Since I don't have all that much to talk about as far as the trip to Memphis is concerned (see Episodes 4 & 5 -Ed), it's back from blog vacation (which mostly involved phoning in blog updates and humorous rants about shoe salesmen) time! Also, it might have to do with the fact that I'm a really lazy blog writer and forgot most of the trip in the thousand days it took me to write this thing. So, to ease you into the transition from hilarious misadventures to my typically solid mediocrity, I present a special feature. And as a bonus, a new interactive portion of the blog. Yes, dear readers, it's time for:
JON'S TOTAL STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS BLOG
First, I think I've hit the point in the Baby Having Experience(tm) where excitement has been bludgeoned to submission by apprehension. I got to thinking the other day that eventually this little bundle of joy and poop will grow up to be a whole, self-sufficient, employed, and hopefully stable (read:non-stabby) human being. But, between those two stages comes the long middle part. The part where he'll be asking me things. A lot of things. Like, "Why is the sky blue?" and, "Why are the goldfish swimming on their backs?" and, "Why does Mommy swear so much when you get home?". Questions that, honestly, I have no real answer to and that certainly will not satisfy a little child's curiosity. I mean, I COULD tell him why the sky is blue (Smurf magic) and where aquatic animals go when they die (the toilet, obviously). But, really, if I tell him those things he'll probably grow up believing that I'm a brilliant man that deserves his praise and respect for my many accolades, super-powers, dashing good looks, killer abs and mean right hook.
Then, he'll hit his teens and discover that it's all been one gigantic lie and wear black clothes, eyeliner, and a long mane of greasy hair while writing bad "introspective" poetry and listening to *cringe* Muse....
(Side note: To all of you who have known me for more than 18 seconds, you know I'm a Guitar Hero fanatic. I love that game. As such, I will NOT be buying GH5. Shocking as that may be, the reason is simple. I had a Facebook update that had screenshots of said game featuring the lead "singer" from Muse as a playable character. I don't really need that level of fail sullying my stalwart PS2, thank you so very much.)
Yes, yes, I know. I'm going to be a wonderful father, and I can't second-guess myself all the time, I have to play it by ear and always do what we think is best for our child and I am an amazing slice of triple chocolate man-cake. I get it.
But, it is a big burden to shoulder. And, I know that tons of people have done this before me. It's hard to wrap my brain around it. Once he gets here though, I'll forget all of this, I'm sure. I'll roll up my sleeves, change some diapers, and get over it.
Aside from my self-indulgent whining, things have been pretty calm here at Chez West. Lily kept us up almost all of last night. First, she got her paws caught in the blanket we had on the bed, and screamed us awake. After we got her out of that debacle, a storm kicked up and she flipped out. Then, she wanted to go outside only to find that *gasp* it was raining (she's a dainty lady and hates having her paws get wet)!
School's started back up for Carly, and my classes start on Monday. Not looking forward to getting back in the classroom, but I need to get this over with and get a degree and a real job so I can support my family and stop being a lazy bum that writes blog entries all day (or fails to, as the case may be).
Finally, on to the interactive portion of the blog! Carly wants to get a pool going of when the baby will be here and how big he will be. Please, write your guess in the response portion of the page. Just click where it says "Comments" and type away! Don't copy guesses and the 4th of October is already taken. In all fairness, the baby is measuring about 34 weeks now and the due date is October 10th. The winner will receive a fabulous prize of absolutely nothing but bragging rights and a temporary feeling of smug superiority! (Please note: these prizes will be null and void if you already have an existing smug feeling of superiority or are French.) Happy random guessing!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Babymoon: Episode 5: The Vegans Strike Back
In our last episode, the evil forces of treats were mightily vanquished by the brave Lily...
Onward to St. Louis! While there, we stopped off and visited some friends and their adorable kids. Then, it's off to lunch at this little pub tucked away near an overpass called O'Connell's.
Sometimes fortune smiles on me in the most devious ways. Such as making me go to a party I really didn't want to go to in the first place and meeting my future wife there. Yes, fate is a tricky mistress. She gives freely, but then asks a lot in return. Case in point:
The special that day just so happened to be the Reuben sandwich. For those that don't know, the Reuben is a corned beef sandwich with sauerkraut and Thousand Island dressing. It is the third most awesome sandwich creation in history (the second being the Monte Cristo sandwich: an amazing creation consisting of a ham sandwich dipped in batter, fried, sprinkled with powdered sugar and served with maple syrup or raspberry sauce. And the most awesome creation being the Luther Burger. This burger is the most awesome thing since Lance Uppercut, the cyborg ninja, traveled to Awesometown to fight the rampaging hordes of dinosaur-riding pirates. It is an Angus burger topped with melted cheese and bacon, served on a sliced and deep fried Krispy Kreme doughnut.) Not only did I eat this marvelous creation, I also finished my fries, Carly's onion rings and part of a Coney Island chili dog.
Needless to say, I was about to burst with fatty meat and grease goodness.
So, as we reached Memphis, we found out a disturbing change in the status quo. My father had gone vegan. No meat, no meat-based products, no dairy, no eggs. On the plus side, he is healthier and I'm thankful for that. We did have a tofu dish with peanut and ginger sauce that was pretty good.
After a few days, Carly and I needed a burger... with real meat. Hopping in the car, we sprinted to Red Robin (yum!). I'm not quite sure how the burgers there qualify as "gourmet" as they claim (there's not a Luther in sight on the menu). Not that it was a bad burger, it just wasn't what the hype claimed it to be.
We visited good friends had a lot of good meals and a good time was had by all.
INTERMISSION:
A True Pharmacy Story.
A mother comes up to the counter with her 4 year old son
Mother: I need something for my son here.
Son: HI!!!
Me: Hi!
Mother: He has diarrhea and we need something that'll work.
Son: Yeah, 'cause I've got the squirts!
Hilarity ensues.
Onward to St. Louis! While there, we stopped off and visited some friends and their adorable kids. Then, it's off to lunch at this little pub tucked away near an overpass called O'Connell's.
Sometimes fortune smiles on me in the most devious ways. Such as making me go to a party I really didn't want to go to in the first place and meeting my future wife there. Yes, fate is a tricky mistress. She gives freely, but then asks a lot in return. Case in point:
The special that day just so happened to be the Reuben sandwich. For those that don't know, the Reuben is a corned beef sandwich with sauerkraut and Thousand Island dressing. It is the third most awesome sandwich creation in history (the second being the Monte Cristo sandwich: an amazing creation consisting of a ham sandwich dipped in batter, fried, sprinkled with powdered sugar and served with maple syrup or raspberry sauce. And the most awesome creation being the Luther Burger. This burger is the most awesome thing since Lance Uppercut, the cyborg ninja, traveled to Awesometown to fight the rampaging hordes of dinosaur-riding pirates. It is an Angus burger topped with melted cheese and bacon, served on a sliced and deep fried Krispy Kreme doughnut.) Not only did I eat this marvelous creation, I also finished my fries, Carly's onion rings and part of a Coney Island chili dog.
Needless to say, I was about to burst with fatty meat and grease goodness.
So, as we reached Memphis, we found out a disturbing change in the status quo. My father had gone vegan. No meat, no meat-based products, no dairy, no eggs. On the plus side, he is healthier and I'm thankful for that. We did have a tofu dish with peanut and ginger sauce that was pretty good.
After a few days, Carly and I needed a burger... with real meat. Hopping in the car, we sprinted to Red Robin (yum!). I'm not quite sure how the burgers there qualify as "gourmet" as they claim (there's not a Luther in sight on the menu). Not that it was a bad burger, it just wasn't what the hype claimed it to be.
We visited good friends had a lot of good meals and a good time was had by all.
INTERMISSION:
A True Pharmacy Story.
A mother comes up to the counter with her 4 year old son
Mother: I need something for my son here.
Son: HI!!!
Me: Hi!
Mother: He has diarrhea and we need something that'll work.
Son: Yeah, 'cause I've got the squirts!
Hilarity ensues.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Babymoon: Episode 4: A New Babymoon
As promised, I've decided to write the next chapter of this blog on the subject of our trip to Memphis. Nominally, it's a nine hour drive down there, cutting across almost the entire state of Missouri before even getting near Tennessee.
However, with a pregnant lady and prone-to-seizure dog in the car, the rules change slightly. Under doctor's orders we had to stop every two hours and Carly had to walk around the car three times minimum. As we left our little home, our spirits were as high as Lily. Sadly, things were about to take a turn for the worst.
We stopped in St. Joseph for some breakfast at the local Perkins and had our first required pit stop. We left Lily in the car with the windows cracked and a cup of water. The dark cloud that followed us into the restaurant foretold of the horrors to come. Our first indication of trouble came when the hostess decided to seat me and my PREGNANT wife near the smoking section. Now, I'm no genius (truthfully, I'm more of a super-genius... Jon West- Super-Genius), but even I know that that is a monumentally bad seating idea. But, I suppose our choices must have been between that or sitting right next to the leaking radioactive missile near the kitchen. And, now that I think about it, if I'm so concerned about my wife's health, why are we eating at Perkins?
In other news, some restaurants still have smoking sections.
Then, Carly orders two eggs cooked over medium and dry toast. At this point, I'd like to say that my culinary knowledge when it comes to eggs is limited to two settings: "scrambled" and "burnt to a crisp". So, it should come as no big shock that I have no idea what "over-medium" means. Thus, when the eggs arrive and Carly takes a look at them at says, "do these look undercooked to you?", my response is to look at them, then her with my most knowledgeable face on and very suavely say, "I dunno, maybe."
This put us at a crossroads. On the one hand, it's a very bad idea to eat undercooked eggs. Especially if you're pregnant. If you do, you might as well just go ahead and inject salmonella right into your belly while singing "What Do You Do With A Drunken Sailor" at the top of your lungs (or your choice of favorite sea shanty. Yes, sea shanties work best for that sort of thing. No, I do not have personal experience in this. Oh, the things you can learn on those interwebs).
On the other hand, if we send it back, the odds increase dramatically that it will return to us with extra spit. And who knows what song to sing while eating spit covered eggs?
We opted for the second choice. If the eggs were befouled, there was no trace of it. Luckily, my Mammoth Muffin was awfully tasty.
We head out to the car, the dark cloud following us, and fall upon what can best be described as a massacre. Bits of the victims lay strewn about the crime scene like pieces of broken glass. The grizzly evidence before us told the story of the horrific events that happened. Carly and I were at a loss for words over the gruesome scene.
Lily had found the treats we packed for her. An entire weeks worth of dog treats, snarfed up by one fat little dog. And she's just sitting there like the Queen of the World.
The heavy metaphorical cudgel I've been using to bludgeon you called the dark cloud following us turns into the real thing as we hit the road again. It starts to rain on us and we need to roll the window up. So, we try. And try. And try again. Carly's window won't go up! Stupid car! My theory is that Lily's big fat bottom shorted out the electrical system in her mad dash to engorge herself on ill-gotten gains.
The rain pelted down and as it got worse Carly was getting soaked. And then, during the worst part of the rain, I decided to try the window one more time and.... IT WORKED. For no good reason, the darn thing rolled up, saving Carly from 9 more hours of drenching ickyness. Someone was looking out for us...
I also learned that my mutant power is making the rain stop for short periods of time. Of course, it really only works when we pass under an overpass, but every power has limitations.
Lily was banished to the back seat for most of the trip.
In our next episode: Vegans, burgers, and flip-flops! It's Episode 5!
We stopped in St. Joseph for some breakfast at the local Perkins and had our first required pit stop. We left Lily in the car with the windows cracked and a cup of water. The dark cloud that followed us into the restaurant foretold of the horrors to come. Our first indication of trouble came when the hostess decided to seat me and my PREGNANT wife near the smoking section. Now, I'm no genius (truthfully, I'm more of a super-genius... Jon West- Super-Genius), but even I know that that is a monumentally bad seating idea. But, I suppose our choices must have been between that or sitting right next to the leaking radioactive missile near the kitchen. And, now that I think about it, if I'm so concerned about my wife's health, why are we eating at Perkins?
In other news, some restaurants still have smoking sections.
Then, Carly orders two eggs cooked over medium and dry toast. At this point, I'd like to say that my culinary knowledge when it comes to eggs is limited to two settings: "scrambled" and "burnt to a crisp". So, it should come as no big shock that I have no idea what "over-medium" means. Thus, when the eggs arrive and Carly takes a look at them at says, "do these look undercooked to you?", my response is to look at them, then her with my most knowledgeable face on and very suavely say, "I dunno, maybe."
This put us at a crossroads. On the one hand, it's a very bad idea to eat undercooked eggs. Especially if you're pregnant. If you do, you might as well just go ahead and inject salmonella right into your belly while singing "What Do You Do With A Drunken Sailor" at the top of your lungs (or your choice of favorite sea shanty. Yes, sea shanties work best for that sort of thing. No, I do not have personal experience in this. Oh, the things you can learn on those interwebs).
On the other hand, if we send it back, the odds increase dramatically that it will return to us with extra spit. And who knows what song to sing while eating spit covered eggs?
We opted for the second choice. If the eggs were befouled, there was no trace of it. Luckily, my Mammoth Muffin was awfully tasty.
We head out to the car, the dark cloud following us, and fall upon what can best be described as a massacre. Bits of the victims lay strewn about the crime scene like pieces of broken glass. The grizzly evidence before us told the story of the horrific events that happened. Carly and I were at a loss for words over the gruesome scene.
Lily had found the treats we packed for her. An entire weeks worth of dog treats, snarfed up by one fat little dog. And she's just sitting there like the Queen of the World.
The heavy metaphorical cudgel I've been using to bludgeon you called the dark cloud following us turns into the real thing as we hit the road again. It starts to rain on us and we need to roll the window up. So, we try. And try. And try again. Carly's window won't go up! Stupid car! My theory is that Lily's big fat bottom shorted out the electrical system in her mad dash to engorge herself on ill-gotten gains.
The rain pelted down and as it got worse Carly was getting soaked. And then, during the worst part of the rain, I decided to try the window one more time and.... IT WORKED. For no good reason, the darn thing rolled up, saving Carly from 9 more hours of drenching ickyness. Someone was looking out for us...
I also learned that my mutant power is making the rain stop for short periods of time. Of course, it really only works when we pass under an overpass, but every power has limitations.
Lily was banished to the back seat for most of the trip.
In our next episode: Vegans, burgers, and flip-flops! It's Episode 5!
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