Airport Shenanigans (V.2)
My brother and I headed to the airport to fly home for Thanksgiving. I didn't know how, but I knew that something semi-bad had to happen to me...because I can't go to the airport and have a really good, event free time. It started with me forgetting my boarding pass. Luckily Chad had printed mine out for me, somehow foreseeing my inevitable forgetfulness. We got through the security line and I saw everyone taking off their shoes before going through the metal detector...well this is new. So I took my corkscrews, ice picks, automatic weapons, retractable blades, and explosives out of my pockets and put them in a little plastic bin to be scanned under the x-ray machine. I walked through and heard the dreaded BEEP of my third arch nemesis, the metal detector (#1=the sun, #2=my own penis). I had forgotten to take off my hemp and metal bead necklace and my chains from my wrist. They ushered me into a little plastic box where I stood for a good 10 minutes before they would check me for something illegal. I finally got scanned by the magic wand by some guy with a really bad temper who, at the point where I accidentally lowered my arms too early, said "Oh...we're not EVEN done yet." Then Chad and I got some food at the John Wayne airport sports bar. My hamburger cost me $8.25. My Seabreeze (the cost of which was not on the menu) cost me $9.00. Yes, I was raped at the airport. The rest of the trip was uneventful.
The day before Thanksgiving...a day of vacation...one of the few that I ever get...I was woken up at 6:00am to go golfing. "Hi, I'm Grant," "Hi Grant!," "I've been masochism free for 17 days." ::apathetic applause:: I'm not really a golfer. This means that I get really frustrated when I do golf because I do it so poorly. Somehow I got through the 18 holes with a 127, which I guess isn't too shabby considering that I hadn't golfed in nearly 2 years. We got our 23 lb. turkey on the way home, then met up with my mom and sister to go cut down our Christmas tree. Yes...you heard me right...we were getting a tree BEFORE Thanksgiving. Soon we'll be getting a tree in March...watch out...Christmas is taking over. After that, my family and I went bowling and then out to eat. I started the day at 6:00am and didn't stop doing stuff till 10:30pm. I went to sleep after that.
Thanksgiving day would have been eventless if it were not for Chad going to visit the gravesite of his x-pug that he had for 13 years. He buried it in the mountains last year and wanted to go visit him. He came home with the skull to put in his bedroom.
Chad and his friends have been going to San Francisco for the past 6 years on Thanksgiving night to go clubbing at 330 (the last wheezing gasp of euro-trash brit-pop in the world). I've gone with him the past 2 times. So we show up for a Smith's tribute night and enter the room full of Thanksgiving ditchers (much like ourselves) and meet up with Chad's other friends. Matt hands us all a Kamikaze and we toast. I drink it because, hey, he paid 50-something dollars for all of them and I wanted to show my thanks. I really shouldn't have because they were SO friggin sweet (and poorly made) that I almost vomited right there. WEE almost vomiting! We then danced the night away to some really good music. 2:00am rolled around and we were ushered out into the parking lot. Chad and I were the only ones not completely sloshed, so we watched as Friend 1 jumped on Friend 2's car while Friend 2 was too drunk to do anything about it. Friend 2 then puked in the corner while Friend 3 tried to un-dent the car from the inside. Friend 1 and 4 then argued with Friend 2 about whether The Matrix: Revolutions was any good or not. This was all very amusing, but I was so dead tired that I just wanted a bed. Even if it were right there in the parking lot.
The next morning Chad and I ate pizza for breakfast and headed to the San Jose airport to fly back to The OC (nobody calls is that...I promise). Amazingly I didn't have any major problems, other than being forced to buy some really crappy chapstick because my lips were chapped and they only had one brand. It tasted like cherry Dimetapp (which is the devil in liquid form) and I paid $4.00 for it. It's now in the garbage.
Oh, and P.S. I'm clairvoyant. I had a dream a couple nights before coming home that my cousin Heather was pregnant. I then went home and one of the first pieces of news that I was given was that my cousin Heather was pregnant. Creeeeepy. In my dream it was a boy and they named it Toby. If those 2 facts are right...I'm gettin' my own TV show.
Saturday, November 29, 2003
Monday, November 24, 2003
Saturday, November 22, 2003
My Doppelganger and Me
Today Naomi and I went to a place called Bagel Me, which sounds somewhat like a lewd comment a passerby in just a trench coat would make. Despite the name, it is just a bagel place. We ordered and stood around in the crowd, my attention going from person to person...coming up with stories for each of them...wondering where they had come from and where they were going. One guy caught my attention in particular...probably because he was really small, but perfectly in proportion. I gave up my story making and waited for my cheese bagel with cream cheese. The lady walks up to the counter with a bag in her hand and yells "GRANT!" I start to walk forward as the little guy walks up and grabs my bag. He heads for the door and I thought that maybe she had already called his and mine was still at the counter. I walked up and said, "I'm Grant." She asked me if I had ordered the cheese bagel with cream cheese, I nodded yes, and she looked very confused. "GRANT! GRANT! THAT'S NOT YOUR FOOD...IT'S HIS!" she yelled out, pointing at me. He stopped at hearing the name Grant, and came back looking confused. It seems that two Grants came into Bagel Me at the same time, both ordered and gave their name for recognition, and both assumed that the same food was their own. As he handed me the bag we looked at each other somewhat confused and somewhat amused. You have to understand...we Grants don't usually bump into each other. I have met 2 Grants in my entire life. Now 3. I had the strange urge to sit down and find out who he is, find out his story, just because we share a name. But alas...my bagel was getting cold and that would be a little creepy. So I left.
Today Naomi and I went to a place called Bagel Me, which sounds somewhat like a lewd comment a passerby in just a trench coat would make. Despite the name, it is just a bagel place. We ordered and stood around in the crowd, my attention going from person to person...coming up with stories for each of them...wondering where they had come from and where they were going. One guy caught my attention in particular...probably because he was really small, but perfectly in proportion. I gave up my story making and waited for my cheese bagel with cream cheese. The lady walks up to the counter with a bag in her hand and yells "GRANT!" I start to walk forward as the little guy walks up and grabs my bag. He heads for the door and I thought that maybe she had already called his and mine was still at the counter. I walked up and said, "I'm Grant." She asked me if I had ordered the cheese bagel with cream cheese, I nodded yes, and she looked very confused. "GRANT! GRANT! THAT'S NOT YOUR FOOD...IT'S HIS!" she yelled out, pointing at me. He stopped at hearing the name Grant, and came back looking confused. It seems that two Grants came into Bagel Me at the same time, both ordered and gave their name for recognition, and both assumed that the same food was their own. As he handed me the bag we looked at each other somewhat confused and somewhat amused. You have to understand...we Grants don't usually bump into each other. I have met 2 Grants in my entire life. Now 3. I had the strange urge to sit down and find out who he is, find out his story, just because we share a name. But alas...my bagel was getting cold and that would be a little creepy. So I left.
Wednesday, November 19, 2003
Lord Kill the Pain...
Ah the Red House Painters. Seriously...how can a guy be that depressed for that many years and not have killed himself? Well...his words ring true right now.
My penis is broken again.
You might recall the somewhat hellish/horrific/terrible experience I had somewhat recently that involved surgery and my genitalia. Well...guess what? It hurts when I pee again! Hooray! I went to the urologist today and I'm now on antibiotics (again) and I will have to go back in a week to have some minor dialation done in the office. That's a nice way of saying, "We're gonna put some stuff inside your urethra, then expand those things. It's gonna hurt...allot." Oh joy. And if that doesn't work...I get to have surgery...a-frickin-gain.
I'm getting really tired of this.
..............................................................
On a completely different note...it's amazing how something like a song can bring you back to an earlier time in your life. It can suddenly cause emotions in you that you haven't felt in a long time, and maybe never wanted to feel again. Or maybe things that you never wanted to feel again because you were afraid of them, but in reality they are things that you need to face. Inner demons if you will. I am suddenly sitting in my dorm room, in the dark, with my headphones on, a phone call just ended, the room dark and I am the only one left awake. I am suddenly crying silently to myself again, a sense of deja vu since this happaned weekly. I am suddenly staring blankly at my computer monitor which is the only light in the room. I am suddenly afraid to go to bed again because that's possibly an even lonlier place than I am at right now. And I am suddenly snapped out of this waking dream and reminded that this is only a memory. One that I will never be able to get rid of.
Ah the Red House Painters. Seriously...how can a guy be that depressed for that many years and not have killed himself? Well...his words ring true right now.
My penis is broken again.
You might recall the somewhat hellish/horrific/terrible experience I had somewhat recently that involved surgery and my genitalia. Well...guess what? It hurts when I pee again! Hooray! I went to the urologist today and I'm now on antibiotics (again) and I will have to go back in a week to have some minor dialation done in the office. That's a nice way of saying, "We're gonna put some stuff inside your urethra, then expand those things. It's gonna hurt...allot." Oh joy. And if that doesn't work...I get to have surgery...a-frickin-gain.
I'm getting really tired of this.
..............................................................
On a completely different note...it's amazing how something like a song can bring you back to an earlier time in your life. It can suddenly cause emotions in you that you haven't felt in a long time, and maybe never wanted to feel again. Or maybe things that you never wanted to feel again because you were afraid of them, but in reality they are things that you need to face. Inner demons if you will. I am suddenly sitting in my dorm room, in the dark, with my headphones on, a phone call just ended, the room dark and I am the only one left awake. I am suddenly crying silently to myself again, a sense of deja vu since this happaned weekly. I am suddenly staring blankly at my computer monitor which is the only light in the room. I am suddenly afraid to go to bed again because that's possibly an even lonlier place than I am at right now. And I am suddenly snapped out of this waking dream and reminded that this is only a memory. One that I will never be able to get rid of.
SHIIIING!!!
I'm trying some little site changes around here...so if you load up my page and see a bunch of little red x's, that's a bad thing...but I'm working on it. If you load the page and see a picture at the top that looks like me trying to be Wolverine but with crayon claws....that's exactly what it is....it's me trying to be Wolverine with crayon claws.
Gosh I'm a dork.
I'm trying some little site changes around here...so if you load up my page and see a bunch of little red x's, that's a bad thing...but I'm working on it. If you load the page and see a picture at the top that looks like me trying to be Wolverine but with crayon claws....that's exactly what it is....it's me trying to be Wolverine with crayon claws.
Gosh I'm a dork.
Sunday, November 16, 2003
An Account of an Ostrich’s Dislike of Rain and Other True Tales
This past weekend Naomi and I planned a little trip to Santa Barbara to see our good friends Jordan (the girl) and Kevin (the boy). I got out of band practice and we got in my car, ready for the 2 1/2 hour drive. Then the fates conspired against us. I forgot that my headlight was out...and a trip to Santa Barbara in the dark is a bad idea. So we went to Pep Boys (bite your tongue Grant, bite your tongue) and I had to replace my bulb in the parking lot. Then, just out of curiosity I asked Naomi to look up a dashboard light that had recently come on. The Germans sure are weird people, because when they were making my car they decided to put in a little dashboard light that looks like a happy little sun and lights up a happy little yellow.......and means that your front brake pads are worn down. It's like, HOORAY!!! You're breaks are bad!!! Yeah...hooray. So we had to switch cars. By this time it was even deeper into the traffic filled hours of the evening, so our 2 1/2 hour trip became an oh so wonderful 4 hour trip. But we made it, and that's all that matters.
We said our hellos and decided to get some food. Kevin suggested Quiznos, since Jordan is a Quiznos fiend and without her fix she will surely go into spazmic convulsions. It was closed, so we went to the somewhat famous Freebirds...home of the monster burrito too big for most humans to physically consume. Then we named Jordan's stuffed turtle Shubert, tried to get Kevin to dance, were freaked out by Jordan's possessed hallway light, and dragged a hundred pound futon mattress downstairs to make a makeshift bed.
The next morning we were off to the Chumach casino. It's an Indian reservation casino that allows 18 year olds to gamble. The original idea of going there came to us when we were not 21. I am now 21...but oh well...it was still my first time gambling. We found ourselves drawn to the bright shininess of the slots and soon Kevin was down a few bucks, Jordan was down a few bucks, Naomi had doubled her original 10 bucks, and I...well...I lost 20 bucks. Let's just say gambling is not my strong point.
Next we were off to Solvang...The Dutch Capitol of America (yeah, the slogan really confuses the heck out of me too) for lunch. It's this little Dutch town in the middle of nowhere. I'm not sure who got high and came up with putting a Dutch town out there...but he did...and we thank him. We found a restaurant and all got very American food except for Jordan...who braved the bratwurst. She was going to get the knackwurst or the slagenwurst...but she chose the bratwurst (ok ok, I might have made one of those words up) Soon we were happily eating our burgers and sandwiches, and Jordan was trying her very hardest to bite into a huge piece of lumpy, off-white meat. Let's just say she didn't eat it all. Then Jordan and Kevin ordered something called able skeivers? They are huge pancake like balls in sauce of some kind. Mmmmm. We then took pictures of the old Dutch people who dance on the sidewalk for no apparent reason. The rain started, I got a caramel apple, and we left.
On the way back, Jordan wanted desperately to go to the ostrich farm...but last time she was there it was raining and they only got to see some emus. I guess ostriches aren't water-proof. So instead we went to K-Mart, bought Taboo, and went back to Jordan's house to see who was the Taboo master.
Alas...the night had to come to a close and Naomi and I had to go home. But I left them a souvenir...my flip-flops. I mean...I kinda want them back, but who knows when that will happen.
Best quotes from the trip:
Jordan: Brian...thank you for Finding Nemo.
Grant: Brian found Nemo?
---------------------------------------------------------------
(one of many comments about Kevin's manhood)
Kevin: Give a man an inch, and he'll take it a mile.
Jordan: Unless that man is Kevin.
---------------------------------------------------------------
(and the winning quote)
Jordan: This is heaven in ball form!
This past weekend Naomi and I planned a little trip to Santa Barbara to see our good friends Jordan (the girl) and Kevin (the boy). I got out of band practice and we got in my car, ready for the 2 1/2 hour drive. Then the fates conspired against us. I forgot that my headlight was out...and a trip to Santa Barbara in the dark is a bad idea. So we went to Pep Boys (bite your tongue Grant, bite your tongue) and I had to replace my bulb in the parking lot. Then, just out of curiosity I asked Naomi to look up a dashboard light that had recently come on. The Germans sure are weird people, because when they were making my car they decided to put in a little dashboard light that looks like a happy little sun and lights up a happy little yellow.......and means that your front brake pads are worn down. It's like, HOORAY!!! You're breaks are bad!!! Yeah...hooray. So we had to switch cars. By this time it was even deeper into the traffic filled hours of the evening, so our 2 1/2 hour trip became an oh so wonderful 4 hour trip. But we made it, and that's all that matters.
We said our hellos and decided to get some food. Kevin suggested Quiznos, since Jordan is a Quiznos fiend and without her fix she will surely go into spazmic convulsions. It was closed, so we went to the somewhat famous Freebirds...home of the monster burrito too big for most humans to physically consume. Then we named Jordan's stuffed turtle Shubert, tried to get Kevin to dance, were freaked out by Jordan's possessed hallway light, and dragged a hundred pound futon mattress downstairs to make a makeshift bed.
The next morning we were off to the Chumach casino. It's an Indian reservation casino that allows 18 year olds to gamble. The original idea of going there came to us when we were not 21. I am now 21...but oh well...it was still my first time gambling. We found ourselves drawn to the bright shininess of the slots and soon Kevin was down a few bucks, Jordan was down a few bucks, Naomi had doubled her original 10 bucks, and I...well...I lost 20 bucks. Let's just say gambling is not my strong point.
Next we were off to Solvang...The Dutch Capitol of America (yeah, the slogan really confuses the heck out of me too) for lunch. It's this little Dutch town in the middle of nowhere. I'm not sure who got high and came up with putting a Dutch town out there...but he did...and we thank him. We found a restaurant and all got very American food except for Jordan...who braved the bratwurst. She was going to get the knackwurst or the slagenwurst...but she chose the bratwurst (ok ok, I might have made one of those words up) Soon we were happily eating our burgers and sandwiches, and Jordan was trying her very hardest to bite into a huge piece of lumpy, off-white meat. Let's just say she didn't eat it all. Then Jordan and Kevin ordered something called able skeivers? They are huge pancake like balls in sauce of some kind. Mmmmm. We then took pictures of the old Dutch people who dance on the sidewalk for no apparent reason. The rain started, I got a caramel apple, and we left.
On the way back, Jordan wanted desperately to go to the ostrich farm...but last time she was there it was raining and they only got to see some emus. I guess ostriches aren't water-proof. So instead we went to K-Mart, bought Taboo, and went back to Jordan's house to see who was the Taboo master.
Alas...the night had to come to a close and Naomi and I had to go home. But I left them a souvenir...my flip-flops. I mean...I kinda want them back, but who knows when that will happen.
Best quotes from the trip:
Jordan: Brian...thank you for Finding Nemo.
Grant: Brian found Nemo?
---------------------------------------------------------------
(one of many comments about Kevin's manhood)
Kevin: Give a man an inch, and he'll take it a mile.
Jordan: Unless that man is Kevin.
---------------------------------------------------------------
(and the winning quote)
Jordan: This is heaven in ball form!
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
I have a confession...
I was just about to write a really long-winded, sad, pity-me kinda monologue about how heart-broken I was a little over a year ago. A paragraph or two into it I realized that it was coming across as really pathetic and I was just feeding my inner beast that loves to be depressed.
So instead I'm going to write out the ingredients list for Nyquil:
Acetaminophen
Dextromethorphan
Doxylamine succinate
Pseudophedrine
D&C yellow no. 10
FD&C blue no. 1
gelatin
glycerin
polyethylene glycol
povidone
propylene glycol
purified water
sorbitol special
My favorite is sorbitol special.
I was just about to write a really long-winded, sad, pity-me kinda monologue about how heart-broken I was a little over a year ago. A paragraph or two into it I realized that it was coming across as really pathetic and I was just feeding my inner beast that loves to be depressed.
So instead I'm going to write out the ingredients list for Nyquil:
Acetaminophen
Dextromethorphan
Doxylamine succinate
Pseudophedrine
D&C yellow no. 10
FD&C blue no. 1
gelatin
glycerin
polyethylene glycol
povidone
propylene glycol
purified water
sorbitol special
My favorite is sorbitol special.
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