Suicide Base Jumping

So Mattface were on the roof of our 8 story building smoking a cigarette on the deck when we noticed a man on the roof of the building next door with his leg up on the ledge, peering contemplatively over the edge. Having put much discussion into the eminence of certain death (or probability thereof), we were vaguely concerned by this sight. So I yelled across, "Don't do it, buddy! We can talk this out!!" Sadly, either he ignored me or my sound waves were washed away in the chaotic confusion of construction work being done across the street.

Oh well.

Mentoring

Earlier this week I got to play mentor when a 14 year old boy named Demetrius escaped from a group home for boys and was outside knocking on my resident's windows while I was performing cares. I went out to investigate and he made these weird animal clawing/waving motions in the air at me from his little spot in the bushes. So I said, "Hey, woah there! How 'bout you come inside and have some juice and crackers and we talk about it." I'm not sure what possessed me, exactly (seeing as how I was at work and all and he was clearly a delinquent and MUCH taller than me, etc.), but I think I was subconsciously inspired by a short story by Willa Cather I'd read recently about a country school teacher who was only 14 years old teaching all these kids bigger and older than her.

At any rate, the juice and graham crackers seemed to have a calming effect on young Demetrius, so we got to talking about how he'd busted out of the group home. Apparently they had confiscated his PS2 because of some disciplinary issues. I wasn't sure exactly what a PS2 was, but I suspected/gathered it was some sort of video game type deal. He was pretty upset about it. So then I asked how his nose got all messed up, cuz it was red and had abrasions... turns out it was a severe rug burn from a restraint they had put him in during the PS2 confiscation ordeal... they'd forced him down to the ground and told him they weren't going to give it back even unless he worked out his behavioral problems. I didn't bother asking what those were. Anyways, we kept talking. Well, he kept talking, I just listened... until we got to the part where he explained how his PS2 was so important because it was HIS, and because it made it easier to be there without being there. Now THAT I understood. I asked him how he felt about reading and I think was piquing his curiosity on that one as a readily available (and effective) pastime.... and then a couple of cops showed up in the lobby where we were chatting. Demetrius bolted. Seriously, he was just GONE, in a flash, down the halls of the nursing home. The cops took off after him (trying to retrieve him for the group home), but they weren't particularly motivated. A few minutes later an alarm went off as he found his escape out an alternative exit on the opposite side of the building.

Two hours later the cops were outside again. They said that apparently he'd liked whatever I'd said to him cuz he came back again, and that's when they nabbed him. Poor Demetrius. So desperate for someone, anyone, to listen to him over some juice and graham crackers. I wish I'd have thought to have given him my book, but he took off so quick when the cops showed up. Maybe some literature would help him escape into a more pleasant and inspiring world and ease the loss of his PS2... his only distraction from reality. Buuut I didn't, and it was Phil's book anyway (though I'm thinking he'd have empathized with the cause), so I guess I'm just gonna have to hope that our chat and the suggestion were enough to get him to pursue it on his own... seriously, I pray he does. I never met anyone so unknowingly starved for the fruits of good literature before...

Anyone who writes a post entitled, "Boring boring boring"...

... and then criticizes me for not having posted at all in the comments section of said post?

Well. That person should really have a good sit down and reasses their values. I think we'd all benefit from that.

Speaking of Toilet Paper...

This gave me a good chuckle. How kind of her to clue us all in so we weren't overcharged during the holiday season. I know speak for many when I say that all that holiday wiping nearly broke us financially. That's the kind of Christmas spirit I like to see! One for all, and all for one. No more unjust toilet paper tax!!

But really, who knew it was tax exempt?

And more importantly, WHY IS IT?

Bounty Hunting

So I was just watching the news and heard a little ad about the $25 million bounty the U.S. is offering for Osama Bin Laden- dead or alive.

I wonder which would be easier for someone like me: assassinating bin Laden or winning the lottery.

I have a plan, though.

First, I'm going to obtain a kick-ass firearm. A really mean fighting-machine firearm... but one without too much kick back. Cuz that freaks me out.

Second, I'm going to learn how to use it. I'll also probably read up on "Gun Facts," as cited in the links on the right-hand column. It's good to be informed on these issues, after all, especially as the owner of a firearm.

Third, I'm going to learn how to say "Hey there. You boys seen Osama lately?" and "Where is the bathroom?" in arabic. You know, essentials.

Fourth, I'm getting me a plane ticket to Iran or somewhere like that. Or maybe a ticket for "Destination: Ultra Secret Hiding Place Probably in the Middle East."

Fifth, I'm gonna find that bad man.

Sixth? Deactivation:

Locks of Love

Today on an impulse I got a hair cut!! A serious hair CUT. I've been thinking about it for a long time, but today I was doing some errands, saw a shop, and just pulled on over. I donated over a foot of hair to Locks of Love (who incidentally recently upped their minimum to 10" in case anyone was wondering for their own purposes). The remains are around shoulder length and have layered. My hair hasn't been shorter than, say, bra-closure length for over a decade! I feel so free... The rest of you short haired people might not think it's a dramatic change, but I sure do. I'm used to being able to tie my hair in a knot and have it stay. Now I can barely pull it back into a ponytail.



I've been wearing a lot of red lately. Hmm. Anyways, if anyone sees my hair on a leukemia patient's head, be sure to say Hi to it for me.

Update on the World Hunger Front (WHF)

A few more weeks of this and you guys'll need to have a dictionary to read my posts so you can look up every other word cuz my vocabularly's so extensive.

There are so many less hungry people every day thanks to me.

Cars and Craziness and Craigslist

Whew! I just bought my brother Matt's girlfriend's car because she's leaving for spain and it has a heater core that works and will last the winter.

And then I thought, "Shoot. I got to do something with my car because we don't have room for it in the driveway." So I put it on craigslist, here's the ad:

"1996 VW Jetta in running condition (I drive it every day), 5 spd, just had the clutch replaced last year, I think it needs new brake pads (they started grinding a little last week), one of the brakelights are out, trunk doesn't open, and the heater core has been by-passed. It's a california car and it doesn't have any rust. It drives fine and is good on gas, I'm just not mechanically savvy and can't handle another WI winter without heat. I'm looking for around $700, but open to offers. "

So then within half an hour I had 20 people interested, within and hour 35, and 5 were willing to come get it tonight and pay in cash.

So then I thought, "Shoot. I think I may have way underpriced my car." So I changed the listing to $1500. But at this point I'd already been in contact with the 5, and one of them in particular was this young married guy with two little kids desperate to get a car so he can get back and forth to work and not lose his job. He'd tried for 5 different cars in the last two weeks and all of them had backed out at the last minute for a higher offer. And I'd said I'd sell it to him before I realized I could get more. I thought I was lucky to get $700. But then after that, I had a number of people interested in it for $1500.

So I call this guy back and tell him about it. I tell him I hadn't realized what the bluebook price is and subtract all the expenses and then that I have this offer. He's sad and tells me if I should do what I have to do because he can't match that. So I tell him, "Look, I want to sell this car to you. I know you need it. Can you meet me at a more fair price for it?" He says all he can afford is $900. And I've agreed to it.

Now I'm waiting for him to come. I feel a little, no, A LOT, like an idiot given that I have NO money and I could probably get the $1500 if I held out... and $1500 happens to be the magic # for what I need to be able to go back to school next semester. Then I think about his adorable little girls crying and calling "Daddy" in the background. And I think about how hard it is for him to support his family and get to work without transportation. And I think about all the times when the donation basket was passed to me in church and I didn't put anything into it. And yeah. So I've decided to sell it for 40% less. I cringe writing that percentage. The salesperson in me rages and breaks things.

But I think it's the right thing to do. Time to trust God.

I'm going to erradicate World Hunger!

... without spending a dime.

This site is brilliant:
Increase literacy --> Decrease Hunger

(Also, please note the new "free rice" banner on the sidebar for future convenience, compliments of phil's younger, more html-aware than me sister.)

instilling values in the youth of today

I've taken to teaching my 12 year old sister little life lessons in my free time in the form of rhymes. I think she can benefit greatly from these quaint maxims. For example:

"Whiny little girls aren't very nice; whiny little girls, I punish them thrice."

"Tattletales aren't very fun; tattletales: watch out for my gun."

"'Obey me now' is not a playful quip: obey me now or I'll bust out my whip."

I believe the value of Discipline and a firm hand cannot be overestimated in this day and age. Lemme know if you have any other suggestions...

Listerine

So yesterday I bought two bottles of Knobb Creek whiskey and one huge bottle of Listerine. I then transferred the Listerine into a huge rubbermaid thingy, and funneled the whiskey into the Listerine bottle, and packaged it up to ship to one of the guys in Phil's platoon named Eric. Apparently it's really dry in the desert, and that's been pretty tough on poor Eric. So, right. What kind of note do you enclose in a package to someone in Iraq with your boyfriend that you've never met while illegally sending him whiskey when he's at war? (They're not allowed to have alcohol over there, in case you didn't pick up on that.) Also, what else do you put in such a package? Just a hugie bottle of "Listerine"? I threw in some chewing gum and a batch of cookies for good measure.

I really didn't know what to write, though, and something in me rebels against sending packages without SOME form of written communication enclosed. So I opted for a super-smooth:

"Dear Eric, My boyfriend mentioned that you really could use some listerine. He said it's really hard to pretend that you're me and not you, especially when you have such poor dental hygiene. I also enclosed some chewing gum for on-the-run freshness....."

*I* thought it was funny, at any rate... dunno if they will.

Right-o. I'm gonna go get me another swill of all that Listerine I've got...

Goose-Kicking

Today my all my sisters and I took my neice and nephew in their stroller down to the parkway to see all the baby ducks and geese.

One of the ducks was freaking my sister out (whine, whine, whine!), so for the second time in my life I kicked a mean ol' hissing goose as hard as I could in the gut.

The first time was far more noble... and necessity was definitely a bit more of a factor.... I took some little kids I was babysitting to the parkway to play and explore and whatnot, and this goose attacked the two year old!! Damn cocky, over-confident, self-important geese. So anyways, I kicked it. Hard. And it backed off... the hissing was incessant from all the geese in the whole park after that though, but we left soon. Poor lil boy. He was scared of geese for a while after that, so I kept taking him (armed with a big "walking stick") and he got over it. But anyways.

Moral of the story is: if a goose is ever giving you trouble, just kick it as hard as you can. Because it WILL attack your small child.