Sunday, January 31, 2010

Sneaky as an Elephant

This next story takes place during the summer after my 8th grade year. Big changes had occurred in my life. I was now living in Central Oregon, residing in a quaint town called Redmond. I was an entirely different person as well. That does not indicate that I received a sex change, but my personality was night and day from 6 months earlier. One could say that I had burst from my shell into the spotlight. School was taken less seriously, and I was a much more sociable human being.

The day started with my partaking in a young lady's birthday party. Yes, it's true! I was actually being invited to the parties of females, with numerous in attendance. I was pretty much a big shot at this point. Something had happened in my move from Kansas City to this small town in Oregon. I was the same dorky kid, so I don't think it had anything to do with me. It likely had more to do with the fact that I was seen as the cool kid coming from the big city to this town of about 12,000. Little did they know that I was not cool at all, but I put up a good facade I suppose. It must have had something to do with those amazing Jnco jeans I was rocking at the time. I hear those were a real chick magnet.

So, I attended this party full of ladies whom were having a sleepover as part of the festivities. For some reason the couple of us fellas were excluded from this 8th grade sleepover. I can't figure out a reason for this, but fair enough. I wandered home after an alright party. What can really be expected from an 8th grade birthday party? It was acceptable, but not all too rambunctious. I don't recall much of the actual party, because it was far from memorable. That evening, as I was at my home, I received phone calls from the ladies at the party. For some reason they still wanted to chatter with me about various random things. During the meantime my good friend and I were plotting a plan that was somewhere on par with Operation Valkyrie. It was a bold maneuver for us to sneak out in the depths of the night and scurry back over to this "party." My guess is that we never passed this information along to the ladies, but I'd still like to blame them for what would transpire that evening.

As midnight approached, I made my move to escape from the home. The parents were sound asleep, with their bedroom door open ajar. In order to secure my escape I would have to creep past their room and quietly journey down steps to reach the exit. I took my cordless phone with me on the trek, so that I could contact said friend once I had safely reached the outside perimeter. As I crept down the hall I was very careful to make any noise. It was very much Mission Impossible as I would catch my sweat beads before they hit the turf. I slowly made my motion for the steps. This was the tricky portion of the plan. There were a few steps that would creak when you would step on them. I had to be careful to avoid creating too much sound as I crept down the steps. After what seemed to be 20 minutes I had finally reached my destination at the back door. I slid it open to reveal the fresh scent of freedom. I quickly scurried into the backyard where I proceeded to call my companion, followed by sneakily stashing the phone behind a bush. From there I ran towards the bright lights of the neighborhood street lamps. We met outside his abode which was only a couple blocks away. That is where the journey would begin...

The final destination was a good jaunt from our homes. In approximation it would be about a 30 minute trip to reach the end. However, along the way we would stumble upon obstacles that would only prolong our trip. About 5 minutes in we encountered some other hooligans also wandering around in the midst of the night. They were 4 classmates of ours doing goodness knows what at that hour. One of them was being held up by two of the others. Apparently at some point during their outing 2 of them had somehow collided head first into one another. Well the one being held up was vomiting, and clearly out of it. There was rampant speculation that she had suffered a concussion, so we figured we would take a slight detour and assist them with taking her home. This would take us in a completely different direction than where we were headed, but we figured it was best to make sure she made it home alright. Once we had helped lift her into her bedroom window and gotten her safely inside my friend and I were assured that they would take it from there. So we continued onward. About 30 minutes later or so we finally saw the lights of the home for which we were searching. Once we reached the front of the home, he went around to the side to see if he could get the attention of the ladies while I stayed out front as a sort of spotter I suppose. Not sure what I spotting for, but I would certainly spot something in the next couple minutes. As I stood there waiting for him to return I saw a car approach in the yonder with the headlights trained on me. As they glared in my eyes, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't make out the car, yet I knew exactly who it would be...

Defeated, I approached the car with my head slumped. As I got closer my suspicions were quickly realized. Inside, both of my parents were sitting with penetrating stares in my direction. I simply got into the car, and my dad's first question was, "Where's Nick the Dick?" Yes, it's true, he affectionately gave all of my friends nicknames such as this one. "Nick the Dick" was his personal favorite I believe, and he knew that Nick was somehow involved in this. During this time, Nick had caught on to the fact that I had been apprehended. This is his story as to how he made his escape from the situation. How much of it is truth I cannot say, but I'll go ahead and trust his version of events because it sounds like a great adventure. As my parents circled the area searching for him, as my dad was looking to unleash a hell of fury, he did everything in his power to remain out of sight. He rolled across the dark road and hid behind bushes in order to remain hidden. He continued to dodge around the area in the dark, hiding behind whatever objects he could to remain out of the line of vision from this circling Jeep Wrangler. Eventually, he decided to simply make a run for it. From all accounts he made it home before my parents had finally decided to call off the dogs and head home. I say this because my dad still seething at the mouth actually called Nick's parents in order to try to get him nabbed. Turns out he was already chilling in his room by the time they got there. Well played sir.

How had they found out about my late night excursion you ask? Well, it turns out I didn't really cover all my bases before making my stealthy getaway. I actually had a second phone in my room. Yes, they had once again made the mistake of giving me my own phone line. Not only that, but I actually had 2 phones within 10 feet of each other! What a truly absurd notion, as there was absolutely no reason for such nonsense. In all fairness one of them was attached to my Acer (oh yes, top of the line) computer, so it was a pseudo-phone in my opinion. Well, I didn't exactly turn off the ringer on that phone. The ladies at this "party" had decided to continue to try to call back a few more times, not realizing that I had set out on my daring expedition. The ringer awoke my parents, and alerted them to the situation. Apparently my cleverly placed pillows under the blanket were not exactly fooling anybody. Especially since I would have supposedly been comatose as my phone rang off the hook. From there they were able to figure out where I had in all likelihood set out to go. Given our detour on the trip, it gave them an ample amount of time to meet us at the location.

Now to the aftermath. My dad quickly morphed into the Hulk. This is no exaggeration as he literally began throwing things around my bedroom. He picked up my TV and threw it, all of my CD's were snapped in half and flung at me, amongst other things. Needless to say the man did not appear pleased with the lack of thoroughness I had put into my plan. I have not seen him that angry in my life, and the guy has a bit of a temper. Things were getting ugly as I listened to venomous words spewed at me for a good couple hours. Eventually the jury had decided my sentencing and it was not an entirely pleasant one. Basically, the plan was to cut me off from civilization as a whole. Computer out, TV no longer, phone line was finally eradicated (that puppy would never come back), and the house would not be exited for the entire summer. For a week that was pretty awful. However, at that point I had luckily been booked to head to Germany to visit family for the summer. There couldn't have been any possible better timing. Essentially when I returned the summer was over, thereby the punishment had been lifted. The break gave him a couple of months to cool off, so I think at that point the anger had well subsided. Alarms were most certainly installed, and to this day any time a window or door is opened in the house a loud beep echoes throughout the building. I can be thanked for such innovations being brought in to modernize the home. I was just trying to make it a safer place to be. The night was a complete failure as I never even came in contact with the subjects that we had gone through all the work to meet with. Thus ends the story of my failure to rebel against the system.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Class Field Trips = Dangerous

Alright, I don't have the energy to go into a long story this fine day, so I will simply tell a short tale of a class field trip gone wrong. During the 3rd grade my class took a field trip to a farm. I do question why it seems like every class takes this trip to the farm. Honestly, how many kids are all over that stuff these days? As exciting as watching cows get milked can be for some, I personally never really cared for it. Nonetheless, one always welcomed a trip outside the classroom regardless of how boring the potential trip may have been.

Here we were wandering about this farm that was very reminiscent of the one featured in the movie Billy Madison. The class circled the farm like a herd of sheep looking at all the various exciting activities that go on at a farm! Finally it was time to see what seemed to be the main attraction. They did save it for last, and the tour guide was really talking it up. There was a lot of hype going into it, so the class was quite excited to experience this closing act. Well, it turned out to be a barn hayloft. Oh yes, it was terribly exciting. In order to get up to the hayloft the class had to climb up some steps and bales of hay to reach an area that was much like an attic of a barn filled with even more bales of hay. This was the Mt. Everest of barn haylofts. Once the class finally reached the peak, and was safely in the hayloft they asked us to all take a seat on a bale of hay. I saw a bale of hay unoccupied near the entrance that we had just come through. As I approached the bale I called out to my friend, "Hey Jay let's sit over he..." From there I have no recollection of the next 5 minutes or so. I had stepped over or next to the bale of hay and actually fallen out of the hayloft. True story.

I may very well have been unconscious for a few moments. My first memory after the moment right before I took the plunge, is of being slowly picked back up by the woman that was providing the tour. Everything around me was spinning and felt fuzzy for the rest of the field trip. My head was absolutely pounding as I was sat down on the exact same hay bale I had missed before falling from the loft. The more I think about it, it is very possible that I suffered a concussion from this fall. However, the teacher didn't seem terribly concerned about that, so if it did occur it remains undiagnosed to this day. The good news is that I did apparently make it home that day, and in what seemed to be a conscious state. Therefore I was able to turn a seemingly harmless field trip into near disaster.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Enter Awkward Teenage Years...

For this next story we will have to fast forward about 5 years or so. I had just entered junior high school in Kansas City. At that time I had an entirely different personality than I do today. I completely evolved within the span of about 2 years after I had moved to Oregon. This is critical to understanding why I would allow myself to be duped in such a manner.

At the time I was a very shy kid that was always immersed in a book. I had a very serious personality (complete 180 from today) and worked very hard in school. This was likely because I was worried about the consequences if I were to not receive A's down the board. As I would later find out they were not too severe, though getting straight A's was never much of a challenge at that level. Anyway, long story short I was an awkward young child. To go along with this charming personality, I stood at a sturdy 5 feet tall (might be a generous estimate) and was pushing a good 100 lbs. One can safely assume that most young ladies towered over me. Puberty was still somewhere on the horizon, and I'm quite certain 76% of the female population had a lower voice than I did. Needless to say the ladies weren't getting in line to be wooed by this young stallion. I feel it was entirely necessary to explain all of this in order to give some background into this story.

The evening began innocently enough. I was hanging out at home doing whatever it is that a 12 year old does on a school night. Suddenly my private phone line rang. Now why did I have my own phone line in my room? I'm not terribly sure why I had it, as the phone was certainly not blowing up with calls for me. I had a couple buddies that would call it every now and then, but certainly not anything that would require my own line. I've never really been one to talk on the phone much, so I would consider this an error in judgment by the parents. I have diverted a bit off topic, so let's get back to where I left off. I walked swiftly towards the phone and answered the call assuming it was a friend of mine. However, I was shocked to hear that it was in fact the sweet, lovely voice of a female. I was immediately taken aback as this was not a common occurrence for me at the time. "Who could this be?" I wondered.

She stated that her name was Sarah. This did not necessarily narrow down the possibilities much for me, as there seem to be a few Sarahs prancing around the world these days. I was still intrigued and quite frightened that I was on the phone with a female. What should I do in this situation? As my voice crackled into the phone, she explained that she was in my math class and had her very watchful eye on me. "Oh my," I thought to myself. After thinking things through for a few moments I realized there WAS in fact a Sarah in my math class. I had rarely, if ever, spoken to her however. Things were getting very real very quickly.

Panic quickly spread throughout my body as my mind continued to race. How was I to maintain this conversation? Should I bring up a comment about the weather? Perhaps she would have an interest in Goosebumps books as I had quite the wealth of knowledge on the subject. I can't honestly remember what exactly was discussed in the discussion. What I do recall is all this talk of this crush that "Sarah" supposedly had on me and what else. Eventually the banter ended and we parted ways on the telephone.

Later that night, I discussed with a friend this incident of mine that had occurred earlier. Word quickly reached another friend and that is where things turned south. They insisted that we find this girl's number (oh yes, I would not have thought twice to get that during the conversation...I was just focusing on formulating sentences thank you) and give her a call. Now this was all based on the assumption that it was the girl named Sarah from my math class. (Here comes a 90's flash back) We utilized the 3-way calling component on our land lines to contact a source that was friends with said female. He provided the number and we were one step closer. Now, why would I call this Sarah girl to confirm that it was in fact her that had called me earlier? I have no idea. I was a 12 year old with very little logic. I could have certainly waited for class in a couple days and allowed fate to run its course, but this was not the route I chose.

"Sarah's" number was dialed into the phone. My friends would listen on the other line as I spoke with the girl that would answer. I should probably have been suspicious that they were so anxious to listen in, but I suppose it never crept into my mind. They seemed quite supportive of my endeavours, possibly too supportive. A young lady answered the telephone, and immediately I was put to the test. How terribly awkward could I possibly make this call? "Are you the Sarah that called me earlier, and has a crush on me?" I uttered into the phone. It may not have been that exact line, but it might as well have been. "Who is this?" she asked of me in return. I passed along my credentials: name, math class, the works. Sarah seemed very unimpressed with this information, and gave me a big no on the answer. Oh yes, let the humiliation run rampant. I thanked her for her time, and let her be on her way.

I suppose the next time I attended math class could have been more awkward, but I don't see how that could be possible. As the bell rang and I exited the class room, I heard behind me, "Hey, are you the guy that called me this weekend?" Oh yes, it was Sarah amongst a group of her friends. Naturally, since I was not blessed with the ability to effectively lie, I told her it was and giggling was heard behind me as I had turned to walk down the hall.

Shortly after this incident, I moved away so luckily it did not haunt me for years to come. Although they would never confess to the crime, I am still absolutely certain that my ever loyal friends were behind this prank. Twelve year old kids are ruthless I tell you! Thus ends the story of the most awkward telephone conversation that I have ever partaken in, though certainly not the only awkward one I have endured in my day.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Trombone + Nose = Blood

Alright, I have chosen to go G-rated with this first story. We are turning back the clock to the 2nd grade. I had just moved to Kansas City late that summer and was attending my 4th elementary school in 2 years. Therefore I was not terribly familiar with the layout of the school which may have played some role in what would transpire in the upcoming moments, however, I'm not so sure that this would have helped one bit.

The bell had just rung and the class was hustling to get out the door and begin their journey back home. I do not recall what caused me to run a little behind that fateful afternoon, but for some reason I was the last one to exit the classroom. As I made my way out the door to head towards the school bus I did my due diligence to check both ways before entering the hallway. At this point I felt that it was clear for me to venture onward. As I took a step forward to enter the hallway I heard to my left the thunderous footsteps of someone rapidly approaching. I quickly turned to my left and my eyes instantly filled with horror.

Ok, let's take a quick break there to set this vision up. Now, when one is at a tender, young age older children appear to be mammoths in comparison to you. For instance, when I was in 2nd grade a 6th grade student would seem like a 6'2 behemoth whenever one would come around. Relatively speaking, they were much larger than I so it felt that way, but that may have also possibly stemmed from the fact that I was always one of the smaller kids in my classes. I didn't hit a growth spurt until the end of my junior year of high school, but that's a topic for another time. Now that this setup is complete perhaps you can envision the next part of the story.

As I turned to my left I saw a giant girl (we're not necessarily speaking of girth here as opposed to her general size in comparison to me) hurdling towards me at what seemed to be mach speed. The deer staring into headlights effect must have overtaken me, because I stood there motionless watching this all unfold in slow motion. In her right hand she held a very large instrument case. My theory is that she was bustling down the hall to reach her bus on time as she was certainly in quite the hurry. As I stood there she continued to rapidly approach apparently not noticing me in her peripheral vision. Granted, I did not likely see her for that long a period of time, but it seemed an eternity because the little memory I have etched in my brain of this event is all in slow motion as if it were some kind of Sportscenter Top 10 play. As I would shortly discover, inside this instrument case there sat a trombone. At full speed she continued charging forward and proceeded to place a world of hurt on my face. The trombone connected squarely on my nose and sent me sprawling on my back to the ground. There I would lie with blood gushing out of my nose until my teacher saw me from inside the classroom. I looked like 50 Cent as I laid there crumpled in the fetal position surrounded by a pool of blood. The only thing missing were numerous bullet holes. Once the teacher arrived she assured the girl she could continue home, and the giant was on her way.

From here on my memory is a little fuzzy, but from what I can recall our classroom was out of any Kleenex or anything that I could use to plug my nose. We wandered around the hallways trying to find a classroom that would have some Kleenex so I could stuff them up my nostrils and proceed on my way home. All the while the blood continued to seep from my nose. Finally, we discovered a room that contained the materials needed to stuff the nose and I was on my way. They had notified the bus driver of the situation, so they had waited around a bit longer in order for me to catch the bus. Thus the bus was the last to leave the lot and I boarded it with my nostrils stuffed to the brim with Kleenex as each child glanced curiously to the front. Finally, the bus left the station and took us on our way home, and thus concludes the story of how I had my clock cleaned by a trombone wielding maniac.

The beginning...

*warning* This will likely be the most boring, potentially serious post ever done on this blog. Feel free to pass by it unless you want to know the history behind it.

I suppose I will start out with detailing what this blog will be about, and why I have decided to create it in the first place. The current plan for this page is to essentially tell all the embarrassing and humorous tales of my life up to this point. Could it occasionally stray from this topic? Absolutely, but at this current juncture in time that is the plan. How many stories I can create basically decides how long I can continue down this route. I do have a fair share of humiliating stories to provide the world, so it is entirely possible that I will be able to provide a decent amount of fodder for the site.

Now you might wonder why I would want to create a site basically humiliating myself endlessly. That's a fair question. I have always enjoyed writing, and have tried to use various outlets to do so, even resorting to using work emails. Therefore I wanted to create something in which I could try to put my creativity to good use. A sports blog sounded like a good idea, but I didn't want to put in the constant effort of finding sports stories out there that would be required to make a quality sports blog. So I thought, "What can I write about in which the material would come easily and I could still have fun writing about it?" The easy answer is of course myself, but I didn't want it to be a boring page rambling on about my daily life and random subjects. I enjoy injecting humor into my writings, so I figured what's more funny than embarrassing childhood stories? Absolutely nothing if you ask me. Everyone has them and can relate to them. That being said mine may occasionally go over the top, in fact, I am not afraid to post any story which you will likely soon notice if you choose to continue reading these ramblings.

Another reason for this blog is that I'm hoping to give people a little glimpse inside me. Those that know me are aware that I'm a very outgoing person that really doesn't have much of a filter. However, when it comes to talking about myself or, even worse, emotions I pretty much shut down. I would compare it to the mysterious guy that shows up out of the blue on some kind of teen drama like 90210 and nobody knows about his past. They inquire about his past and he gives vague answers and of course shoots mysterious glances into the distance while providing these vague answers. That is basically how I react to these subjects. I might throw in a joke that leaves people wondering whether what I said actually happened or if it's all a joke. Now, on TV shows this shtick often works in the guy's favor as the ladies seem to dig the ultra mysterious persona, but it doesn't seem nearly as effective for me. I've always been able to express myself better on paper, so maybe this is a way to open up a bit to those that know me. We shall see if this truly has that kind of effect.

The final reason is that it seems like these kind of blog deals are making big blockbuster hits these days. I'm just saying...Hollywood writers are running out of solid movie/TV ideas, and they seem to find memoirs or a collection of writings a great movie script these days. Just think about it. Lately we've had Sex and the City, that Shopaholic movie, Marley and Me, that movie about the lady that blogged about cooking somebody else's recipes, amongst other movies and shows. Perhaps this collection of writings will be so eloquent and magnificent that a beautiful woman falls in love with the writer of such brilliant, inspirational words. She contacts the writer of these great stories and wonders if they could meet sometime over a cup of coffee. The blog writer informs her that he does not drink coffee, however he would be willing to speak over a nice glass of orange juice. It turns out they are a perfect match, their love blossoms, and the rest is history. The writer of this blog writes about this ever growing love and their funny stories together on his blog for the world to see. A prestigious Hollywood director stumbles upon the site after receiving someone's recommendation he check it out and reads about this great story of triumph. The director quickly realizes that this is an excellent idea for a movie and contacts Warner Bros. immediately about the idea. I'm just throwing it out there. This could be the beginning of an amazing movie script. I'm quite certain that Ashton Kutcher is already lining up to play the lead role of the charming, boyishly handsome blog writer with a cunning sense of humor. I'll let you decide whom should play the lead female character. Oh yes, this could most certainly be a big moneymaker. I am quite certain that is how this will all turn out. It is only a matter of time in my opinion.

Well that brings about an end to this first entry here. The stories will begin very shortly. I have many of them queued up in my mind, but I am still deciding which ones I want to throw out first. Don't want to go with the heavy hitters right off the bat and have them progressively get worse. Yet, I don't want to go too soft at the beginning either. So there is still much to be determined, but I assure you the madness will begin very shortly. If you actually hung in there for this entire somewhat boring post I salute you, and assure you that from here on out they will be much more interesting. Goodbye now...