Declaration of Intent

The voices have spoken.

Well, today is Monday. Mondays are usually hit or miss at work. Today was kind of both, I guess. I slept in a little longer than I planned to, although I don’t do a lot of planning in that regard. Anyway, I still had enough time to get ready and pack a lunch (as well as eat breakfast).

Maybe it’s allergies, but my left eyeball was pretty much bloodshot when I woke up. Even after eye drops and a cold cloth I still looked like a drug addict. Oh well, I suppose the folks at work are used to it by now.

(Garbage) Chutes & Ladders

My dream-inspired abstract collage.

01.25.09

Last Sunday, I decided to take a nap in the afternoon. I changed into my flaming Superman S-shield pajamas and a gray sweater and got under the covers, eager to get some rest and hopefully heal from my cold. Five hours later, I woke up.

And this is what I dreamed…

I was at work and Oksana gave me three little slips of paper. She didn’t tell me what was on them, but I noticed some writing and a couple of numbers. She made it clear that I was supposed to read them as soon as possible, but our assistant manager Pat told me I had to take care of the garbage first. So I did my best to quickly round it all up as the other employees were getting ready to leave (it was time to go home). Oksana waved goodbye from behind a chain-link fence and I suddenly remembered I was supposed to read her notes.

No Strings Attached

Yeah, that's me.

A few months ago, I found myself in a situation very much like the picture on the left. It happens every so often, and it’s always because I try being a nice guy. I don’t think it’s wrong to be nice, but it’s been a problem of mine for a long, long time.

It’s not that I struggle with burning rage and/or a desire to rip people’s arms out of their sockets (most of the time, anyway). It’s not that I’m so incredibly selfish I don’t care about other people. Well, I am incredibly selfish, but that’s not where I’m going with this.

Wednesday at Cannon Beach

Well, I don’t really have any significant updates to make, so this will be short and sweet. Speaking of short and sweet (not a shameless segway into romantic matters, fear not), our vacation is already drawing to a close.

It didn’t hit me until today, but I realized I’ve been enjoying vacation so much I failed to take my usual slew of photos. So I took a good number of them today and shot a little video of my journey to Haystack Rock. It’s probably not as exciting as I thought it would be, and my entertaining narrative was kind of… well, lackluster at best. I was too busy trying to keep from stumbling and getting my pants wet to crack any good jokes. Oh well, I’ve got at least one goofy photo to make up for it.

Sunday at Cannon Beach

Daniel Predmore wanted to share. In my face.

So I’ve come to realize that updating each night this week would prove fruitless for the following reasons: one, all we really do is eat, and two, I’m on vacation.

Checking Out

That's my name, but not my handwriting.

Well, it’s that time of year. We’ve packed our bags, thrown on some shorts, and piled into the family ‘95 Ford Aerostar van, heading for the coast. It’s been four years since we last visited Cannon Beach, Oregon. I’ve got mixed feelings about going back, but overall I’m thrilled to be on vacation.

We’re still driving there as I write this on my iPhone. My thoughts are very stream-of-consciousness, but I’ll do my best to be coherent.

This Old House

Paint the town green.

It’s been a while since I had a memorable dream, and I mean that literally. Most of the time, I only have a foggy recollection of what goes on in my head during the night. Wednesday morning was an exception. As soon as I woke up, I started typing on my iPhone in a desperate attempt to record every bit of nocturnal weirdness before it faded away. What follows is a slightly edited version of what I wrote:

There’s a big remodel/construction project going on at my parents’ new house. Mom and dad are still living in the old one. My sister Sarah is here and Oksana (an attractive girl from work) is in the kitchen. Apparently, she forgot to put some kind of food in the oven and asks me if I did. I say I didn’t, and she pretends it’s my fault. Sarah walks down the hallway, enters the kitchen, and gets one of those weird expressions on her face. She tells Oksana that I’m already married (which I’m not), just to make me mad. Oksana has no response.

Chocolate Mostly Dark

So bitter, but so sweet.

About a year ago, I wrote a blog entitled “Chocolate Most Dark.” It was a naïve and simple-minded attempt at sharing my musings on life in general with the rest of the digital world. Yeah, that was stupid.

My ex-good-friend, who shall remain anonymous, promised I would feel great pain and embarrassment for dropping my guard and getting sentimental, and he did an admirable job of keeping his word. Thanks, Luca.

Leaps of Faith

Where goldfish dare.

This wasn’t the photo I originally wanted to accompany this blog. I was hoping for a screenshot from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, but everything I found was either too small or too blurry to be of any use. It’s probably just as well, as this photo works better.

There’s a familiar adage, an old saying, an oft-clichéd phraseology that goes something like this: “Yeah right, when salmon fly!”

What Really Matters

Not King Jimmy's bible.

[29 April 2008 | Tuesday]

Since this is the last time I get to talk before Awana’s over, I really want to use this time to tell you guys some of the things that are on my heart, and encourage you to pursue the one thing in life that matters the most—seeking and following after God.

Now, if you’ll allow me to lecture for a bit, I’ll begin. For starters, I’m a bit of a slow learner regarding important life lessons. If you’re like me at all, and you probably are (with or without the meager Obi-Wan Kenobi facial hair), you’ve had or have some misconceptions about your role in life in respect to God’s divine plan.