Craigslist with the Best of em...

I was reading some of my blogs and everyone was talking about things they are good at... and I started thinking about myself - selfish, I know.  But... I came up with one thing that I'm rather proud at being good at - that being Craigslisting.  And yes, it isn't just a proper noun anymore.  I think it's gotten to the ebay-ish status where it can be turned anywhich way you like it.  Regardless, this is what I'm good at...

First off, there's free stuff on Craigslist - did you know?  And not crappy stuff, good stuff!  Secondly, people will buy anything.  About 5 months ago, I bought kitchen cabinets on Craigstlist for $190 bucks, and I sold them last week for $250... granted it was going to be for $300 but they were with a church, and she was saying, "lord help us," and, "oh sweet Jesus."  I couldn't resisit... I told her I'd go $250 and she was like, "Heaven praises! there is a God!"  It was worth it...  One of my better C-List experiences (PS - thats short for Craigstlist).  Another favorite of mine was at Christmas.  A few of my friends were going to spend time with some less fortunate kids, and I happened to get a few bags of ornaments and decorations from a lady and she was upset because they were her grandmother's and she was going to give them away for free.  But after we started talking and I told her what I was using them for, she gave me the biggest hug ever... I must say, at first, ackward, but after I returned the hug, it was pretty sweet... if I were less of a man, I may have choked up.  Regardless Craigslist isn't for the faint of heart, but I think I've done pretty well in my 2 years of continued service.  My best haul was with Lowell Turner - nicest man on the Earth!  Lowell's son used to own a used book store and when it went under he moved all the books into Lowell's house... Now Lowell was on the up and up and was ready to move out, so the books had to go... he posted on C-List and I tried to get ahold of him for 3 days.  Being upwards of 80 and serving in a few wars doesn't make you the most savvy on the Internet... but my persistence paid off, with a few book cases full of classics.  My friend made the about the same haul as I did... not to mention we spent about an hour just chatting with Lowell and asking him about some of the things he had in his house.  It was an awfully rewarding experience...

I'll tell you... I've got some new things in my house that are nice, and people ask about them... I can say - "oh, I got that at Target, or I picked that up from Pier One."  But I really enjoy being able to say, "I bought that painting from the daughter of an Art Professor at Wash U," or that, "I got that from Lowell Turner, one of the nicest old men I've ever met."  I really treasure the things in my house that have a story along with them, and I think that's the main reason I love Craigslist so much.  Its not just a purchase, its not just a deal, its almost an adventure every time... and I do enjoy a good story, or a great adventure... Thanks Craigslist, how bout a few more!

One too many aliens

    So, this past two days, I've had an inner monologue discussion about alien lifeforms; all the usual debates one would have.  Firstly, the last time I had even thought about aliens... months ago, maybe the last time I... wait, I saw Men in Black on Spike TV about a month and a half ago.  So, theres a month and a half...



    Alright - now begins my story.  Yesterday, I'm as calm as can be at my desk, and I went to google something for work.  And what do I read, but a story reporting that 'British astrophysicist Stephen Hawking warns intelligent alien life-forms would almost certainly be dangerous to humanity.'  The report goes on to say 'Hawkins is near certain such life forms exist, but warns that trying to communicate with them is "too risky."'  I know what you are thinking... yikes right?!  Well, like any fantastical mind, mine dwelt on it the entire day... and in doing so, I remembered that I inadvertently recorded Roswell because we got Showtime free for a month... I'm weirded out already!  I continue my debate in my head, should we extend the space program, or just limit their outer limit communication funding...  I digress... So, my mind is a flurry.  I rush home early because I am going to go to the Cardinal game... open the door, and there is a half-dead alien paused on the screen... I'm like, what the hell!  Matt, my roommate, is watching Roswell... deep breaths...

    So, we start talking, I bring up Stephen Hawkins article, matt starts telling me how he was talking about how it was brought up in one of his classes... we both agree something fishy is going on...  All the while, the movie goes to where the alien warns that more alien species and kinds are coming!  So weird at this point... we decided that Jon, other roommate, is an alien.  Case closed, right?  So I thought!?  I'm at the cardinals game, and I'm watching Albert Pujols at bat, and Freaking A, I'm bugged out by an airplane I thought was an alien spaceship.  I'm on edge people... Game over, at the bar, I'm being hit on by a 40 year old, probably 48... kinda looks like an alien... I'm laughing about it; things are better, I've reached my beer limit, heading home...

    Lucky for me I listen to talk radio, something to keep my mind off aliens... well... Coast to Coast with George Norris comes on and Blamo! they're talking about aliens... I am engrossed with the conversation... while my eyes are on the sky... more about how 'Hawking argues that the arrival of extraterrestrial life forms would be analogous to Columbus landing in the Americas, which, Hawking notes, "didn't turn out out very well for the Native Americans."'  What the hell!?  So, I'm a buzz... and then they have a guest on, that cools me down... He basically says that Hawkings statements deny the fact that aliens haven't ever been to Earth, which is aburd (I agree) and if they wanted to harvest our brains and kill us off like Native Americans they'dve already done it if they have the technology to reach earth... he goes on with tons of great things to say... and I pull into the drive convinced that the aliens are not going to harvest my brain... I'm going to take all this alien talk in stride, but I'll still keep my eyes to the sky, just like they did in Fire in the Sky. PS: someone gets an anal probe in that movie... 

New thing - Fandom Conventions

So, I’ve decided to fill some of my busier weeks with the 10 minute ramblings and chatterings that so many of my friends do. I was hoping to write a story a week; however I am not as good at juggling a consistent blog as I thought. Consistency isn’t exactly something I strive for in my life anyway… So, I am sitting in my cube taking a break from work and I’m listening to Pottercast which is a podcast that is put on by Harry Potter fans. It is actually one of the longest running podcasts listed, and I’ve been catching up lately on some of the podcasts I missed… But they just started talking about leakycon2011 and I am thinking about going. Universal Studios is close to opening the Harry Potter Theme Park in Orlando and they have a huge fandom party every year or two and they decided to host it at the theme park. I’ve wanted to go to a leakycon for awhile now, but due to the fact that it is going to be at the theme park, it is a pretty awesome and incredible combination… And I’ve got a year to plan… So, I’m going to attempt to get about 20-30 people to go down together and attend this thing… I mean, it’d be a ton of fun.


Alright – on the topic of fandoms… there is a Animecon in St. Louis this weekend and I’m thinking of attending, the only reason I wouldn’t go is because it costs like 35 bucks… and the main reason I would go, is that they have a rave on Saturday night. I’ve never been to a rave, but I’ve seen them on TV and they look pretty awesome… no drugs for me though… Anyway, I’m out… back to work!

Running With Scissors

    Gripping the summer air in my palms, I visualized my flight down the sullied dirt path blistered with dead leaves and boney tree roots. I could see myself slipping through the drained and dried creek, downhill toward the edge of the woods. Continuing the race in my mind, I sprang from the end of the tree line, dashing through the grassy back yard, and then onto the third step of the back-porch staircase... my podium... my finale. I was ready for this race. I had been anticipated it all morning; heck… I suggested it. Another chance to defeat my elder brothers at a game or race was seconds from beginning – I was about to explode. As my imagination soared back into my opening eyes, I swallowed two deep breaths. I dropped my head as my rivals drew quite. Tense air floated between the twisted vines that choked the tree limbs above my head and beneath the woodland canopy. Leaves swayed anxiously in waiting.

    Dirt spit from the souls of my ripped sneakers as I screwed my foot into the dusty surface. Silence rang… then a restless proverbial voice awoke the beginning of the count, "READY!" - I detonated to the left from my stronghold alongside a bare tree trunk. As the youngest of the boys, I had no need to hear the words, ‘set,’ or ‘go for that matter. My loyalty lies within my own victory. Shadows of sprinters exploded behind me in every direction, screaming what I’m sure were obscenities – I could only laugh as their paths were a mere gaffe compared to my route of unrivaled perfection. An engine screamed to my back and I stole a look from over my shoulder to spot both my elder brothers; one ripping down the leveled pathway on the dirt caked three-wheeler; and mind-numbingly, the other pacing hot on my tail. My speech was flooded with curses at the thought of my brother thieving my course, my unrivaled route. I pulsed on, and spat into the air in hopes of it hitting his face. As my bastard red-headed brother caught up to my side, I mustered all of the grit left on my teeth and raced on through the dried creek bed. Gripping onto a tree limb, I ramped over the embankment with ease. I could hear my brother struggling and sinking into the disappearing edge of falling rock along the creek. I smiled with insanity and I reestablished my lead. The clearing toward the finish was just beyond the shadow of evergreens bent in a line along the woods. My brother’s yelling, sounding further in distance every second, only made me run faster. Yearning to rub in my inevitable victory, I turned my face toward my back, tongue extended with a mockery of unabashed loathing that sent me into darkness…
    Shaken into consciousness, I began to feel my body strewn about on a pillow of tree roots and itchy ground. My brother’s screams from above my body were painstakingly loud. I cringed. Lights came into focus, and my brother’s countenance was hazy, at best. Somewhere, I could make out the sounds of celebrating… and slow enough; the reality of defeat sank in. I searched for reason and blame, until abruptly, pain entered into my arousing body… Awakened with fear, I came to realize my breath, too, was knocked from my lungs. All of my realized agony was relayed in gasps and howls for breath. As I gained a few breaths and an ounce of composure, I met my brother’s questioning eyes… “You okay? You ran straight into the fence, ya idiot!”
    With groans like that of an old man, I sat up and stared out at the fence that appeared a mile away. Realizing the barbed wire etched onto the multiple rungs of fencing, I lifted my shirt to see a rain of bubbling and bloody holes in my chest and stomach. Each, seemingly large, barbed bullet hole was connected with red lines, slit with cuts scattered along. As my brother described it to me, “you were flying at the fence like a maniac with your tongue out, and after you hit the fence it threw you back 5 yards onto one of the trees and you were out like a light.”
Squeezing my shirt onto my wounds, I knowingly questioned, “My tongue was out?”
With a laugh he answered, “Yea, I was screaming about the fence on the tree line the whole time, part of the reason I followed you down here.”
Realizing my brother’s warnings I denied ever hearing him…

    Resting on my brother’s arm, we walked back to the house my shirt bloodied with defeat. My brother assured me I’d live, and as he was the proud owner of 4 stitched head scars, I trusted his judgment. As I limped beneath his helping arms, I vaguely remember a sense of guilt and embarrassment for my actions… and even some pride for the concern of my elder brother.  Mom said, "I'dve been safer running with scissors than with such recklessness."  In my most disparaging and embarrassing memories, I seem to find some of my most influential childhood lessons – this one was no exception.