Latchkey Kid

Apparently, I am a klutz.

Last night started off like pretty much any other night. I got home from work and let the dogs out. After feeding Layla, I put Jag in my car and took her up to Memorial Park for a walk. Jag loves the park, as do I, and last night was an exceptional evening for a walk in the park. We even met a jogger who has an 11-year-old border collie of his own. According to him, border collies become good house dogs at around age 8. Great, I thought, only five more years of insanity. Of course, his dog is now blind, so that might have something to do with how chill his dog is. Anyhow, we wrapped up our walk and I dropped Jag off at home and went downtown to meet Ian at La Bouvette for dinner.

We had a nice shenanigan-free evening. Ian just got back from the Austin City Limits Festival, and told me all about his trip. The only thing that kept me from going into a jealous rage, was my experience at the first Tibetan Freedom Concert in '96. After dinner we went over to Ian's and traded some mp3s and I called it a night.

I got home and started getting ready for bed. I let Jag out one last time and kenneled her up for the night. Then, I took Layla and Kudos out and inexplicably locked myself out of my house. I say inexplicably because the doorknob turned to open the door to go outside, but when I wanted to go back inside, well, the doorknob would no longer turn.

Did I mention Megan is out of town?

Yeah, it sucked.

So, I'm standing outside in my undershirt and pants at a little after 11:00 trying not to panic. I went around and checked all the other doors to see if, by chance, one might be unlocked. No luck. Then I tried the windows that I could get to. All locked. By this time it was about 11:30 and Layla and Kudos were looking at me like "Are we sleeping out here tonight, or what?" Thankfully, I actually had one resource with me, my cell phone. Now, you may wonder like I did, how I managed to have my phone and not my keys, but at that point I was just happy to have something.

My first call was to Megan's mom. She has a spare key and lives off 72nd St., making her the closest and best chance at a rescue. Unfortunately, she's in Minneapolis. Obviously, she wasn't going to be much help. Next, I called my mom, who also has a spare key. I knew it was a long shot, since they never answer the phone after 9:00, but I tried anyway. No answer. Finally, I called my dad. Luckily, he answered the phone. Not so luckily, he doesn't have a spare key.

My dad was nice enough to come over and pick me and the two pooches up (I didn't want them unattended outside at midnight, as they would probably wake up the entire neighborhood with their barking) and take us out to my mom's. I used the keyless entry pad to go in the side door and probably scared the shit out of my mom who was awakened by the security system. I disarmed the alarm, assured my mom that it was "just Christian," grabbed the spare key, and split.

Got back home at about 12:30, fed Kudos, and went to bed. Quite the little adventure. Next time, I'm just going to break in.

My First Time

Megan was house-sitting most of this week, so it was my first extended period of time alone in the new house. And I can't say that enjoyed it very much. It's funny, because we've been married over 3 years now and during that time there have been several nights where we've been apart. Usually, it's no big deal, and in fact gives me the opportunity to do things that Megan's not into, like watching japanese horror flicks. Sure, I'll miss her, but sometimes it's nice to be alone, y'know? Anyhow, these last couple of days just felt a little weird at the house and I'm not sure what it was. I think that now that we finally have something that is ours together, I associate that with her. So, when she's gone, it just feels kind of empty.

Add that to the fact that for some reason when one of us is gone, the dogs get super jumpy. Tuesday night I almost pissed myself when Layla went into a barking fit in the middle of the night. Normally when Megan's there and this happens, I yell at the dog to quiet down, and roll over and go back to sleep. In fact, sometimes Megan will want me to go see what the dog is barking about and 9 times out of 10, I just tell her it's nothing, and you guessed it, roll over and go back to sleep. The other 1 time out of 10, I simply give Megan a flashlight and the .38 under my pillow and tell her to go check it out herself if she's so goddamned concerned (just kidding... it's only a .22.) But the other night I could not get back to sleep. Suddenly, every little noise would jolt me back awake. The good news is the dogs seemed to fall right back asleep. Looking back on it now, I'm almost positive they were just messing with me.

Wednesday night I decided to go check out a movie and caught The Aristocrats up the street at the Dundee. The Aristocrats is a documentary by Penn Jillette and Paul Provenza about this joke called "The Aristocrats." The joke is an old burlesque joke that is basically told by comedians to other comedians and the documentary is essentially something like 100 comedians telling this same joke... sort of. Each comedian starts at basically the same place and ends up with the same punchline, but it's what they do in between that makes the movie worth watching. It's sort of like jazz, as one of the comedians put it. But before you start thinking that this some high-brow examination of the art of joke telling, keep in mind that the joke itself is kind of lame, so the goal of the joke teller is to take the joke and make the build up as disgusting and offensive as possible. And boy, does it go places I never thought that I would hear. In other words, this movie is not for everybody, and definitely not for the easily offended. In fact, the Dundee had to put a sign reading "No Refunds," as they had so many people walking out. Personally, I found it absolutely hysterical, as well as fascinating as comedian after comedian took the same joke and went "too far."

Finally, one of my favorite groups, Atmosphere, was in town last night. With Megan gone, I thought that I probably wouldn't be able to make the show, so I didn't buy an advance ticket. I got home last night, let the two poodles play outside for a while and afterwards took Jag for a walk at Memorial Park. With the animals good and tired out, it looked as though I could go to the show after all. Unfortunately, it sold out. So, I stayed in and finished Make Love!* The Bruce Campbell Way. I know that I mentioned this book before, but it really was awful. The premise itself wasn't terrible, but the execution was just all over the place. I mean the structure was terrible, and worst of all, it wasn't funny. Now, Bruce Campbell is funny. Extremely funny, in fact. I read his first book and laughed out loud in places. But what really made his first book so entertaining was how natural it felt, like he was a good friend telling a good story. This may be because it was his own personal story and not fiction like Make Love!, but still, it never felt forced. This new book, on the other hand, just read like he was trying way too hard. And believe me, I tried hard, too. I tried hard to like the book. But, like Bruce Campbell, I failed miserably.

But hey, at least we tried...

Relocation and Dislocation

Yet another weekend has come and gone way too fast. The high point this weekend was definitely some grillin' and chillin' at Ben's on Friday night. It was a beautiful evening and those in attendance soaked it in while slugging down beers and eating some tasty, charcoal-grilled meats. Nick had recently returned from Canada and brought back some tasty beer, most notably Stella. I had first heard of Stella from my stepbrother Matt back in December and have been wanting to try it ever since. Nick was kind enough to take a bottle home to enjoy later, as Megan and I called it an early night since both had a lot to do the next day.

Megan got up well before me at about 6:30 and headed down to the Civic to help prepare for the influx of New Orleans evacuees and their pets. I slept in until almost 9:00 and went to help our friends at Rockbrook Animal Clinic move into their new space. I was more than happy to do it after everything that Marty and Cheri have done for us, but that doesn't mean it still didn't suck. Lots of heavy lifting, including a washing machine. I freakin' hate moving washing machines. The most nerve-wracking moment of the day came when I was put in charge of installing bracket into a wall to hold up a small TV. Now, I have no idea why I was asked to do this, as I am the farthest thing from a carpenter you'll ever meet. But, since someone needed to do it, I figured why not? I 'll tell you why not, because even with a stud finder, I somehow missed the goddamn stud. I drilled three holes, attached the bracket, went to attach the TV, and as soon as I did, it started to pull out of the wall. So, a little embarrassed, I got some help. Thankfully, no one else could get the stud finder to work right either, so I felt like less of a nincompoop. We eventually found the stud by trial and error above the ceiling tiles, and correctly installed the bracket. Lucky for me again, the bracket was wide enough to cover up my mistakes and I was able to relax and not feel like a total idiot.

That was more than enough excitement for me for one day, so after we called it a day at 2:30, I went home to do what I really set out to do on Saturday: watch college football and drink beer. It was great. The games were great, but I'm telling you, that Stella was even better. I truly enjoyed the rest my afternoon and evening doing absolutely nothing.

However, I really felt like a P.O.S. later, because as I was kicking back, Megan was busting her ass down at the Civic. She called and asked me if I could bring some worklights down during halftime of the Nebraska game and I told her it was the least I could do (and for those of you who don't think that this was any sort of a sacrifice, let me tell you, it led to me missing a 57 yard Cory Ross run.) I returned home and finished watching the game, watched the Ohio State/Texas game, and even played some Playstation. At about midnight I called Megan if she was planning on coming home any time soon (keep in mind that she had been working since 7:00 AM!) Megan said that she was finishing up, but wanted to know if she could swing by and pick me so I could go with her to the shelter to drop off the van she was driving and pick up her car. Megan arrived at our house at about 1:00, and As we rode to the shelter together she told me about her day, what she had been doing, and the stories of some of the people she had met. Then, almost in passing, she told me that she had dislocated her shoulder.

Yeah, she dislocated her shoulder at the airport at around 8:30, had the on-sight paramedics put it back into place, ignored their instructions to go to the hospital, and continued working until after midnight. And here she was driving us back to the shelter, talking about it like it was no big deal. I never thought I would say this, but apparently, my wife is a badass.

We dropped of the van at the shelter, picked up Megan's car and some Taco Bell, made it back home by about 2:00, and crashed at about 3:00. They say no good deed goes unpunished, and Megan's was no exception. She was in a lot of pain on Sunday, but I think that we were both proud of what she had done. Not proud of her injury, per se, but proud of what she and those with her were able to accomplish. In turn, I was also able to feel less worthless, as I spent the day taking care of her. And if you're thinking that there's a little reversal in gender roles here, you aren't the only one. But, if you think that I'd rather be the one laid up with a sore shoulder, then you're mistaken. Just call me Christian Thom, Male Nurse.

The Lost Week(end)

It's been a crazy week. Despite our place still largely being in disarray, Megan and I hosted our first house guest, Mr. Zach Trexler. The whole duration of his stay was whirlwind of fun, food, and booze. Zach flew into town Thursday afternoon. We hooked up at my work, and after a quick wardrobe change, we headed downtown to meet Ian for dinner and drinks at La Bouvette. After that, things get a little blurry, as Zach and I kicked off our weekend in true rock star fashion and never looked back. You know how Dennis Leary used to sum up Jim Morrison's career as "I'm drunk, I'm nobody. I'm drunk, I'm famous. I'm drunk, I'm dead?" Well, that was pretty much our extended weekend, except without the "I'm nobody," "I'm famous," and "I'm dead" parts. And although my liver probably doesn't think so, it was just the kind of break I needed.

So, after being properly pickled, Zach, Ian, and I stumbled to the Goofy Foot from Ian's apartment and checked out Eux Autres. Despite being a little concerned about Zach during his hour spent in the men's room, I had a great time. The show was fun and it was a real treat to see Nick play again. I had only seen Nick play once before, when his band Byron The Bulb opened for Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks at Sokol. This time it was a much more intimate setting, and since there are only two members of Eux Autres, it was a lot easier to focus on Nick's playing. My unbiased opinion was that, despite the lackluster soundboard skills of one Mr. Mike Arnold, it sounded great. But then again I was a little drunk, so none of you should take my word for it. No my friends, you should go check out Eux Autres for yourself. And by the way, I'm just giving Mike shit, I'm sure that he did just fine at the sounboard, despite the fact he had no idea what he was doing!

Again, that was on Thursday night. Apparently, I forgot that the weekend hadn't started yet. So, let's just say that Friday was a little rough at work, and leave it at that. Some of the crew were meeting up at the Goofy to hear Mike's set and catch up. Zach and I declined as we decided to sit around at the homestead and drink instead. We called it a night pretty early. Thank God.

On Saturday, Megan and I had a wedding and reception to go to. We left Zach to his own devices while we went to celebrate the marriage of a pretty amazing couple. You see, this may have been the wedding that we were at, but the couple has actually been married for a little over a year. Kelly and Shawn were engaged after only dating for 7 months, and when Shawn's marine unit was called over to Iraq, the two of them rushed down to city hall to tie the knot before he was deployed. Now that Shawn is back safe and sound, they wanted to have a full ceremony. It was a really nice affair, plus it was cool to see a color guard send off the couple. There's something about marines with swords in their dress uniforms that says badass and elegant at the same time. Plus, free wine and beer at the reception along with decent food got the evening started off right.

After a wardrobe change for Megan and I, we grabbed Zach and headed downtown to meet up with a bunch of our friends at Mr. Toad's. A large group of us gathered outside Toad's on the patio, imbibed a few cocktails, and got lost in conversation. It was great to have a chance to hang out with Nick and Mike. We had a good time catching up and I think that Zach was especially glad to see Nick and Josh again. The trip down memory lane took another detour when Nick detailed his encounter with another old acquaintance the night before, Dave Duckworth. Dave was a hot topic at the Class of '95 reunion a few weeks back and it was just kind of weird that someone had actually run into him. The whole thing was made even more surreal when I went inside to visit the men's room and who did I see? Dave freakin' Duckworth. To be perfectly honest, I was a bit apprehensive at first, since I hadn't seen Dave in a looooooooooong time and wasn't quite sure how things would go. But I gotta tell ya, my reservations were almost immediately put to rest as Dave was warm and seemed genuinely happy to see me. Dave sounds like he's doing well. He and a couple of other guys run a record store in KC that specializes in House music and apparently, they've developed a pretty strong following. We made plans to get together in KC a couple of weeks from now when Megan and I are in the area (Hopefully, I'll be able to get him to start carrying some RJD2 and DJ Shadow.) Anyhow, we closed the place down and made our way home. For most, it would be time to call it a night. But not Zach and me. No sir, we managed to stay up until 5:45 playing college football on Playstation.

Needless to say, we slept in on Sunday. However, after a couple of attempts at home improvement, we started drinking and never stopped. Ben and Max came over and joined us. We stayed up late kibitzing about the hurricane and what could have and should have been done. It may sound lame, but I think that everyone actually had a good time. Zach even commented on how it was nice to have a political discussion, as he doesn't have much of a chance to back home. I was having such a good time that I recounted what I thought was a humorous story about getting trashed, when in actuality it was just a good story to get my wife pissed off. Whoops. Hopefully, I didn't make everyone else as uncomfortable as I was. Sorry about that everyone. Lucky for me, my wife loves me and quickly got over what a dumbass I can be.

They next day we sent Zach off in style with a trip to Valentino's Grand Buffet. In my opinion, it's the best buffet in town. Unfortunately, that's not saying much. We spent the rest of Monday recovering. Luckily, I had the foresight to take Tuesday off as well. I puttered around the house most of the day trying to get some shit done that I had planned on doing over the long weekend.

The rest of the week has been catching up for lost time at work and at home. It's all been a blur as my liver slowly returns to normal size and I've really been trying to get things done at home. I have successfully diminished some of the clutter and the kithen's finally starting to come together. We're still behind schedule as far as I'm concerned, but I'm learning how to stop stressing out and cut loose every now and then. I'd like to say that we should all do this more often, but I just don't think my liver could take it.