I've decided to undertake an even grander project than my project to build my wife a quilt rack, my project to front a killer band, my project to become a wide receiver for BYU. Yes, this project involves me buying an external hard drive and putting all my music on it. Are you overwhelmed with this project? You should be. It might take me years to complete. But, oh the sweet reward at the end of completion. If this doesn't make my wife proud of me, then nothing will. But this is only the tip of the iceberg, gentle reader, yes, I am going to make...playlists and mix cds the likes of which the world has never seen (except for that small portion of the world that visits Itunes) Anywho, Mr. Brad Hennessey proved his worth yet again by shutting down the mighty Padres. Once again, I have to question the wisdom of idiot sportswriters who constantly maintain that the NL West is the worst division in baseball. Check out the East where the Mets feed on a bunch of bumbling clubs who don't even sniff .500. The Giants have gone on a slump typical of their post-1993 pre-1997 days, except usually this slump happened around 60 games in. It's so refreshing to see them collapse with only 60 games left.
My boss has a list of A, B. and C contacts for various listservs that he has when he publishes an article. I've decided that I need something like this in my life. I'm going to go through all my acquaintances and tag them with an A, B, C, or Outer Darkness tag. A contacts are core contacts, those who are always in contact. B are Key contacts, those who get contacted most of the time, but not all time. C are Other contacts, those who get contacted every once in a while. I'll just change this from "contacts" to "friends" and we have a great hierarchy system. If some angers me, I'll just make them a B friend instead of an A friend. If someone pleases me, they'll move up. I toyed with the idea of making a chart and making it a post, but my wife advised against it. I threatened to move her down to B friend. Needless to say, the chart will not be posted. But all of you who read this solipsistic piece of drivel will be pleased to know thath you're all A friends. I mean, that's obvious as readership is an exclusive club for this blog. I don't let anybody just read this thing. You have to give a bumpity bump about the little things in my life that I find oh so fascinating.
There are a couple things that I should mention. On Saturday, the family will be flying down to Bakersfield, CA to attend my grandmother's funeral. This is the first time I will visit the fam in Bakersfield in over ten years, and it's very strange. I guess I figured this would be the only way that I would return to the place where both my parents grew up, where their parents still live and where I have 3 sets of aunts and uncles. 1995 was a particularly traumatic visit to Bakersfield and I think somewhere in the back of my mind I swore I would never go back. I don't think my sister (who was also on that trip) has ever gone back since then either. So, this is a big weird moment for me, something straight out of a short story or indie movie. In the end, the road always leads back to Bakersfield. I should mention that my grandparents on my dad's side are straight out of the Grapes of Wrath, and if you look at pictures of my Grandma from the Depression Era, you can see the poverty and misery. I'll have to post it some time. It's really surprising. She was the last link of mine to the unbelievably stereotypical Utt clan. The pictures and the names from that era could not be made up (Pappy Utt, Jiggs, Bud, Unc). Okay, enough of that.
Sufjan. My brother-in-law covered his love for Sufjan in excruciating detail in his blog upto12.blogspot.com. I decided that I wouldn't check out Mr. Stevens until the time was right. The time is right. The man creates some of the wussiest sounds, and yet, it tugs at your heart strings or, in some cases, horrifies you like the worst Death Metal could never do (see John Wayne Gacy, Jr.) One song keeps beating in my brain like a Scottish tattoo. It's the Wasp song (the real name is much too long). It could be coming from the perspective of a 12-14 year old girl, and I likes to think that's what it is (the other choice is a gay 12-14 year-old boy). Some how, this song painted a picture in my mind and managed to evoke feelings from my early teenage years long buried under layers upon layers of bitterness. That constant hope I had in 7th grade that a girl would like me and kiss me, which of course never happened in that era (it took until I was 21 to have girls officially "like" me). When I listen to the song, the same feeling of yesteryear are brough back COMPLETE with the burning in my stomach I often felt when I thought about girls and wishing one would like me. The very same burning, where if I thought about getting kissed I also felt like puking. Okay, I need to go bounce my newborn. However, there are plenty of people out there who complain about junior high and high school and say that everything was stupid, but those people actually experienced relationships and love interests and things of that nature. I still feel bitter towards all of them. I guess I wish people would say, "Yeah, Jr. High was great. All these girls/boys liked me" instead of the stock "Oh I HATED jr. high" In the end, you'll never know what it was like to hate Jr. High, just as I 'll never know what it was like to really hate junior high like Jeff Adling did after Dan Balling accused him of peeing in the shower in 7th grade PE.
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