So today I was going to storm the local insurance companies. I donned my suit, equipped my laptop and binder, and mapped out my plan of attack. I would take on the national headquarters of two mid-large insurance companies on their home turf. I would be charming. I would smile. I would be confident, walk tall. I would sell myself. I would shake hands, look them in the eye, and say "Thank you for the time. It was a pleasure. I look forward to speaking with you again." I would leave with my head up. They would think to themselves, "Boy, we need that guy in our company. How have we gotten along so long without him?". . . Um. . . Ok. . . reality. . . I would realize that the location Google maps gave me for the first place I planned to stop is nowhere near the headquarters of this company (nearly opposite sides of town, actually). I would curse under my breath. I would take an unintentional detour on the way to the next place because I apparently can't curse under my breath and remain in the appropriate lane at the same time. I would take an unmarked detour after facing a road that more resembled a dirt parking lot for construction machinery. I would drive past a road with a name strangely similar to the road I was looking for, but the road I was looking for didn't have a 'c' in it. I would drive past the expressway, realize that I wasn't supposed to drive past the expressway, and look at the map to realize that the street I was looking for did indeed have a 'c' in its name. . . When I finally did arrive at the second place, I went into the wrong building. "Personnel is across the street." Wow. The building across the street was something. A big, flowing water fountain. Nice furniture. Ambient lighting instead of blue-white flickering fluorescence. I would like to work in that building. Unfortunately, all of the recruiting agents had left for the day. Gone by 2:00 on Friday? I would like to be a recruiting agent. So, I filled out one of the forms and I'm supposed to stop by sometime next week. . . Damndamndamndamndamn. I was hoping for some kind of hope. I should've left earlier. I should've gotten up earlier. I should've lots of things.
I'm going to a writer's conference tomorrow. I think I've already mentioned that I was planning on going to it. It should be interesting. I got hold of the schedule of events. The last session doesn't really have an event that I'm interested in, but the second session has three. Doesn't that just figure? I'll probably go to something during that last session, just in case there are some networking/friend-making opportunities, and maybe flit through a couple of the events during the second session. I'm looking forward to it. It should be fun.
I'm grateful that I'm somewhat familiar with the area and able to say that I was never really lost today, even though I strayed from my path several times (20).
Friday, April 13, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
As promised. . . the plunger
It seems like every time I'm looking after the kids and my niece needs to go into the bathroom there's an incident. The first time, I was helping her with something (maybe washing her hands?) after she had finished, and I didn't notice that her brother, the sideways-looking type, was aiming a nerf ball at the toilet. Let me tell you something: you haven't really lived until you've fished a urine-soaked nerf ball out of the crapper. . . As for the plunger incident, last night I put my niece on the toilet, and. . . well. . . I lost track of her brother again. At some point, he stuffed a big wad of toilet paper into the toilet and then flushed. His sister, announcing that the water wasn't going down, proceeded to flush the toilet again. That's where everything went into slow motion: "Nnnnnnnnooooooooo!!!" I hollered as I lunged far too slowly to stop anything. Water, water everywhere. . . In case you were wondering, they keep the plunger next to the mops and stuff in the hallway at the top of the basement stairs.
I went to my old lady yoga class again today. There were two more old ladies than the first time I went. I'm thinking I may actually stick with this class as long as my schedule will allow it. If there were a bunch of young, flexible women around, I may be distracted from the yoga or a bit more self-conscious about my poor form. Plus, the instructor has really helped me to feel welcome in the class. She's given me advice on the job search and recommended a book for me to read. I've really enjoyed the class the two times I've been to it. And during this second class, we did a lot of poses different from the poses we did the first time I went. I think the new lady had some hip issues, so we did a lot of poses that work on the hips. Which is good for me, because my hips may be my weakest part. At least, I seem to feel it most whenever a pose works the hips. . .
Oh, one more thing. I just found out that this MA program doesn't require the GRE for admission. So that's a bit of a relief for me. I wasn't really sure I'd be able to get the test in in time to meet the deadline. Now that I know I don't have to take it quite yet, I can relax a bit more and focus more on the writing samples and the job search.
I'm grateful for not having to take the GRE. . . yet (20).
I went to my old lady yoga class again today. There were two more old ladies than the first time I went. I'm thinking I may actually stick with this class as long as my schedule will allow it. If there were a bunch of young, flexible women around, I may be distracted from the yoga or a bit more self-conscious about my poor form. Plus, the instructor has really helped me to feel welcome in the class. She's given me advice on the job search and recommended a book for me to read. I've really enjoyed the class the two times I've been to it. And during this second class, we did a lot of poses different from the poses we did the first time I went. I think the new lady had some hip issues, so we did a lot of poses that work on the hips. Which is good for me, because my hips may be my weakest part. At least, I seem to feel it most whenever a pose works the hips. . .
Oh, one more thing. I just found out that this MA program doesn't require the GRE for admission. So that's a bit of a relief for me. I wasn't really sure I'd be able to get the test in in time to meet the deadline. Now that I know I don't have to take it quite yet, I can relax a bit more and focus more on the writing samples and the job search.
I'm grateful for not having to take the GRE. . . yet (20).
Monday, April 9, 2007
I wish I were 4
So my niece is right now at the point where the whole toilet training thing is starting to come together. Which is really good. Tonight, she was so excited about her success for the day that she was running/skipping/trotting/bouncing/crazying around, waving her hands, and shouting "I peed and pooped today! I peed and pooped today!" I wish I were in that place in my life. I can't imagine how blissful my life would be if I were able to count days as successes if I both peed and pooped during them. Maybe I'm just expecting too much out of life? I don't know.
After that downer post from this morning, I got a little bit of the fire in my belly going. I want more from my life. I want it now (Verruca?). But now doesn't seem to be completely realistic. So I want it at the soonest now I can get. My first move was to look around on careerbuilder.com (again). There were several promising looking postings, but they seemed similar to others that I've already applied to with no real positive end for me. But I'll apply anyway. But I started admitting to myself one thing that I was trying to avoid admitting to myself: I probably need to go back to school. . . crap. . . crapcrapcrap. . . So I looked at the graduate programs at MSU, and they've got an MA in Digital Rhetoric and Professional Writing that looks pretty good for me. The website says that the degree is a professional degree and also preps students for PhD programs in Rhetoric and Writing. Sounds good to me. Looks like working toward the degree will give me the opportunity to gain experiences like internships and even publishing that are distinctly lacking from my resume. Cool. The fact that it can feed in to the PhD at MSU is another plus. Looking back on my BA, I've realized that it was mostly the literature classes that burned me out on studying English. I loved my linguistics, rhetoric, composition, editing, and other similar classes. But the lit classes were just so much of the same thing. I loved reading all the different literature. But I hated writing papers about literature because it was always so clear what the professor was looking for from a paper (regurgitation and imitation), and I rarely got the opportunity to express my own opinion instead of an opinion that synced with what the professor expected. . . That last bit probably makes more sense to me than anyone else. Sorry. . . But I loved my classes that emphasized writing and the mechanics of language and what have you. So if I were to get a PhD and maybe even teach someday, it would probably be best for me if it were to be a degree in Grammar and Rhetoric. . . Oh yeah. School would be a good place for me to meet people, especially since I'm now in the mindset of trying to meet people. . .
OK. So here's the plan: I'm going to take the GRE real quick and apply to the program before the May 1 deadline. At the same time, I'm going to keep looking for work. If the work I find seems like a career that I would like to stick with, then I probably won't go back to school. If the work I find involves a nametag or a mop and I get accepted to the MA program, I'll probably go back to school. So that's the plan.
When I got back to my sister's place, my sister told me that one of her friends from work thought I should apply to work for one of the insurance companies in the area that's going to be opening a new branch in the area soon. As my brother's-in-law barber, whose wife works for that same insurance company, had also recommended that I apply there, I feel like I really need to do that.
I was going to tell you the story about how, while I was looking after my niece and nephew, I got to find out where my sister and her husband keep their plunger, but I think I'll maybe leave that for another post.
I'm grateful for the fire in my belly (20).
After that downer post from this morning, I got a little bit of the fire in my belly going. I want more from my life. I want it now (Verruca?). But now doesn't seem to be completely realistic. So I want it at the soonest now I can get. My first move was to look around on careerbuilder.com (again). There were several promising looking postings, but they seemed similar to others that I've already applied to with no real positive end for me. But I'll apply anyway. But I started admitting to myself one thing that I was trying to avoid admitting to myself: I probably need to go back to school. . . crap. . . crapcrapcrap. . . So I looked at the graduate programs at MSU, and they've got an MA in Digital Rhetoric and Professional Writing that looks pretty good for me. The website says that the degree is a professional degree and also preps students for PhD programs in Rhetoric and Writing. Sounds good to me. Looks like working toward the degree will give me the opportunity to gain experiences like internships and even publishing that are distinctly lacking from my resume. Cool. The fact that it can feed in to the PhD at MSU is another plus. Looking back on my BA, I've realized that it was mostly the literature classes that burned me out on studying English. I loved my linguistics, rhetoric, composition, editing, and other similar classes. But the lit classes were just so much of the same thing. I loved reading all the different literature. But I hated writing papers about literature because it was always so clear what the professor was looking for from a paper (regurgitation and imitation), and I rarely got the opportunity to express my own opinion instead of an opinion that synced with what the professor expected. . . That last bit probably makes more sense to me than anyone else. Sorry. . . But I loved my classes that emphasized writing and the mechanics of language and what have you. So if I were to get a PhD and maybe even teach someday, it would probably be best for me if it were to be a degree in Grammar and Rhetoric. . . Oh yeah. School would be a good place for me to meet people, especially since I'm now in the mindset of trying to meet people. . .
OK. So here's the plan: I'm going to take the GRE real quick and apply to the program before the May 1 deadline. At the same time, I'm going to keep looking for work. If the work I find seems like a career that I would like to stick with, then I probably won't go back to school. If the work I find involves a nametag or a mop and I get accepted to the MA program, I'll probably go back to school. So that's the plan.
When I got back to my sister's place, my sister told me that one of her friends from work thought I should apply to work for one of the insurance companies in the area that's going to be opening a new branch in the area soon. As my brother's-in-law barber, whose wife works for that same insurance company, had also recommended that I apply there, I feel like I really need to do that.
I was going to tell you the story about how, while I was looking after my niece and nephew, I got to find out where my sister and her husband keep their plunger, but I think I'll maybe leave that for another post.
I'm grateful for the fire in my belly (20).
Homeless
So, I'm here at my parents's house after the holiday weekend. I'm heading back to my sister's later in the afternoon, but I haven't posted in a few days and I want to get this thing updated while I have the chance. The first sentence and the clause that followed it to start this post reflect a recent revelation of mine: I have no home. After spending a few weekends here at my parents's house, I realize that it depresses me. A lot. The house has come to be a symbol of everything that I've been struggling against in the past few months, and it depresses the hell out of me. Earlier, I went up into my room to gather my stuff up, and I nearly started crying. It was as if the room was haunted by the daysmonthsyears of my life that I had killed in the space, and I was overwhelmed by the loss of such valuable time. I may not be able to come back here until I get my life a little more in order. However, I'm not really at home at my sister's house either. Her family has done so much to make me feel comfortable and at home, but it will always be their house. I will always feel the need to ask before doing certain things. I will always feel like I'm not contributing as much as I should. I will always feel slightly out of place and in the way. And there's nothing anyone can do to change it. It's the way things probably should be. I'm extended family, not immediate family. I should be living in my own place, making my own immediate family. I'm planning on using my lack of a home as motivation to get my shit together and get out on my own. Not my sister's own. My own. I need an all out attack on the job market. . . On that note: I got another job rejection today. It was actually a position that I don't even remember applying for. . .
While here at my parents's, I got out my classical guitar for the first time in a long while. I had forgotten about how soothing playing the classical guitar can be when compared with playing a regular acoustic. I'm considering taking the classical guitar back to my sister's, but I'm not sure if there's enough space for me to have two guitars there right now. . . That's it for now.
"Homeless, homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake." Paul Simon, "Homeless"
I'm grateful for always having a roof and clothes and food, even though I've been homeless and jobless for quite some time now (20).
While here at my parents's, I got out my classical guitar for the first time in a long while. I had forgotten about how soothing playing the classical guitar can be when compared with playing a regular acoustic. I'm considering taking the classical guitar back to my sister's, but I'm not sure if there's enough space for me to have two guitars there right now. . . That's it for now.
"Homeless, homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake." Paul Simon, "Homeless"
I'm grateful for always having a roof and clothes and food, even though I've been homeless and jobless for quite some time now (20).
Friday, April 6, 2007
Maybe I wasn't being sarcastic. . .
You remember how I wrote, "Maybe I should become a yoga teacher. . ." in my last post? Well, after the idea has bounced around in my head for the past couple of days, it doesn't seem as ridiculous as it once seemed. I can think of worse things to do with my time. Yoga has been really good for me. So it's probably really good for other people as well. I wouldn't mind being able to share with other people something that's helped me so much. . . Of course, I don't know that a Yoga instructor can really make a living off of teaching Yoga alone. . . I guess I'm not at the point where I'm taking the idea very seriously or rejecting the idea entirely. I'm just mulling it over. . .
I applied for more jobs around town. No bites yet, but something will come. . . I haven't been able to run during the last couple of days due to the nice Easter snow we've been having. I'm finally getting to the point where I feel like my body's adjusting to the headache medication and where I feel like I'll actually be able to put together a decent run, and the weather says, "Not so fast. I'm gonna be COLD." Crazyspringwinter.
I'm grateful for goodnight hugs and kisses from nieces and nephews (20).
I applied for more jobs around town. No bites yet, but something will come. . . I haven't been able to run during the last couple of days due to the nice Easter snow we've been having. I'm finally getting to the point where I feel like my body's adjusting to the headache medication and where I feel like I'll actually be able to put together a decent run, and the weather says, "Not so fast. I'm gonna be COLD." Crazyspringwinter.
I'm grateful for goodnight hugs and kisses from nieces and nephews (20).
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Holy Crap!
It's 9:00 already? Today just kind of happened. And I'm not really sure if I was here for any of it. I didn't do much. I don't think. But here we are at the end of the day, so something must have happened.
Last night I observed a Ryu Te, martial arts, class. I liked some of what I saw and also disliked some of what I saw. I don't know exactly what the best criteria for picking out a dojo is, but here's something I do know: No matter what dojo you go to, no matter what style they teach, a representative for that organization will come up to you and try to sell their system to you, and their system, no matter what system it is, is the most complete system offered anywhere other than eastern Asia. The other systems are all too flashy with no real substance. They emphasize this aspect of the martial arts by neglecting this other aspect. These other systems are all impractical. . . The head of this dojo I went to last night was a real salesman. He asked two questions, "What didn't you like about your last dojo?" and "What other dojos are you planning on visiting?" Then he depicted his school so that it sounded exactly the opposite of my previous experiences. He told me everything that was wrong with the schools I was planning on visiting. He put me in an arm lock (he called it an arm bar, but it wasn't really what I would call an arm bar) and bent me over at the waist to show how effective his style was. He was a pretty good salesman. But I don't like being sold to. . . Also, the class didn't really include any conditioning or strength building exercises. All of the students, even (or maybe especially) the advanced ones, had large bellies that shook when they laughed. I asked the instructor (sifu?, sensei?, I don't know his title) if he had some sort of routine he taught or recommended, and he said not really, because this system didn't really rely on strength (for some reason I thought of the instructor guy from Napoleon Dynamite right at this moment) so there was no point in building up your muscles. . . What? The way I look at it (though, the more I look, the less certain I am that I'm right), studying martial arts is supposed to develop the entire person physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. Even if I don't need to be strong to use this style effectively, wouldn't it be good for me as a person to be in good physical condition? . . So, I'm not sure about this place. I haven't mentioned the good stuff about the school. But I think I've exhausted myself on the subject.
This morning I went to a yoga class. Most yoga classes seem to offer the first class for free, so I'll probably do a circuit through as many of the free introductory classes as I can find. The class itself was quite good. Having an actual person there to correct my mistakes and offer encouragement tailored specifically to me was incredibly useful. . . On a quick side note: When I said that yoga class would be a good place for me to meet people, I had meant yoga class would be a good place for me to meet female people. And when I say that yoga class would be a good place for me to meet female people, I mean that yoga class would be a good place for me to meet female people that haven't yet reached menopause. When I say that, I am completely inaccurate if I'm discussing the yoga class I went to this morning. . . A kind of funny little factoid about this yoga group is that it meets in a local wedding chapel. I chuckled to myself a bit when we were laying on our backs with our arms stretched out to the side, kind of crucifiedish, and we then turned our heads to the left where there was a big stained-glass depiction of Christ as the good shepherd. I'm not sure if that kind of connection is irony or blasphemy, but. . . Heh, the yoga class had a part during which we all were supposed to say namaste, which literally means "I bow to you" but has more of a 'best wishes' or 'peace' or 'good tidings' or some general message of well-wishing/gratefulness, to each other. That part of the class reminded me of the "peace be with you" part of the Catholic service I went to a while back. It's amazing how similar these very, very different ways of life can be.
I finally have a bed here at my sister's place. I'm sitting on it as I type. It'll be nice to be able to sleep without waking up to catch myself from falling over the edge or to rearrange the couch cushions. We also seem to have gotten my Internet issues taken care of, so I can now access the web from my laptop and will hopefully be updating a lot more regularly now.
I'm grateful for yoga instructors who can relate to a guy trying to figure out what to do with an English degree (20). Maybe I should become a yoga teacher. . .
Last night I observed a Ryu Te, martial arts, class. I liked some of what I saw and also disliked some of what I saw. I don't know exactly what the best criteria for picking out a dojo is, but here's something I do know: No matter what dojo you go to, no matter what style they teach, a representative for that organization will come up to you and try to sell their system to you, and their system, no matter what system it is, is the most complete system offered anywhere other than eastern Asia. The other systems are all too flashy with no real substance. They emphasize this aspect of the martial arts by neglecting this other aspect. These other systems are all impractical. . . The head of this dojo I went to last night was a real salesman. He asked two questions, "What didn't you like about your last dojo?" and "What other dojos are you planning on visiting?" Then he depicted his school so that it sounded exactly the opposite of my previous experiences. He told me everything that was wrong with the schools I was planning on visiting. He put me in an arm lock (he called it an arm bar, but it wasn't really what I would call an arm bar) and bent me over at the waist to show how effective his style was. He was a pretty good salesman. But I don't like being sold to. . . Also, the class didn't really include any conditioning or strength building exercises. All of the students, even (or maybe especially) the advanced ones, had large bellies that shook when they laughed. I asked the instructor (sifu?, sensei?, I don't know his title) if he had some sort of routine he taught or recommended, and he said not really, because this system didn't really rely on strength (for some reason I thought of the instructor guy from Napoleon Dynamite right at this moment) so there was no point in building up your muscles. . . What? The way I look at it (though, the more I look, the less certain I am that I'm right), studying martial arts is supposed to develop the entire person physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. Even if I don't need to be strong to use this style effectively, wouldn't it be good for me as a person to be in good physical condition? . . So, I'm not sure about this place. I haven't mentioned the good stuff about the school. But I think I've exhausted myself on the subject.
This morning I went to a yoga class. Most yoga classes seem to offer the first class for free, so I'll probably do a circuit through as many of the free introductory classes as I can find. The class itself was quite good. Having an actual person there to correct my mistakes and offer encouragement tailored specifically to me was incredibly useful. . . On a quick side note: When I said that yoga class would be a good place for me to meet people, I had meant yoga class would be a good place for me to meet female people. And when I say that yoga class would be a good place for me to meet female people, I mean that yoga class would be a good place for me to meet female people that haven't yet reached menopause. When I say that, I am completely inaccurate if I'm discussing the yoga class I went to this morning. . . A kind of funny little factoid about this yoga group is that it meets in a local wedding chapel. I chuckled to myself a bit when we were laying on our backs with our arms stretched out to the side, kind of crucifiedish, and we then turned our heads to the left where there was a big stained-glass depiction of Christ as the good shepherd. I'm not sure if that kind of connection is irony or blasphemy, but. . . Heh, the yoga class had a part during which we all were supposed to say namaste, which literally means "I bow to you" but has more of a 'best wishes' or 'peace' or 'good tidings' or some general message of well-wishing/gratefulness, to each other. That part of the class reminded me of the "peace be with you" part of the Catholic service I went to a while back. It's amazing how similar these very, very different ways of life can be.
I finally have a bed here at my sister's place. I'm sitting on it as I type. It'll be nice to be able to sleep without waking up to catch myself from falling over the edge or to rearrange the couch cushions. We also seem to have gotten my Internet issues taken care of, so I can now access the web from my laptop and will hopefully be updating a lot more regularly now.
I'm grateful for yoga instructors who can relate to a guy trying to figure out what to do with an English degree (20). Maybe I should become a yoga teacher. . .
Monday, April 2, 2007
Not a lot of news yet
Well, I don't have much news as of yet. The new headache medicine seems to be working pretty well for me to this point. Of course, my good head condition might have just as much to do with the fact that I've eased up (not abandoned, just relaxed) on the headache diet a bit and am no longer stressing out about every little thing I put into my body. I am still going to try to eat healthier, however. . . Unfortunately, I fear the medicine is affecting my running. I can't seem to make it very far at all before I completely peter out. I have been assured that my body will adjust to the medication after a bit, and I should be able to get back to "normal." I can't tell how much of my drowsiness is a result of the medicine and how much is a result of the rest of my life. But hopefully once I've adjusted to the medicine I'll be a bit more alert again. . .
I got a phone call from myfavoriteaunt yesterday. It was strange that she was calling to talk to me because I have little to no contact with any of my extended family. However, I'm glad that she did call. She called to tell me about a week-long writer's workshop that's going to be held in her area in June, and offered to let me stay with her and my uncle during the workshop if I decide I want to go. She also offered to pay for my application fee because she knows I'm not working and that money is a big concern of mine right now. How nice is that? I've wanted to do one of these extended writer's workshop/getaway things for some time now, but I haven't done it because of school and the fact that during the past tenish years of my life I haven't really had any definite idea about where I was going to be within a couple of months of any given time (as it turns out, a good bet would've been my parents' house). I'm kind of on the fence about committing to the workshop right now because I hope to have a job by then, and if I do, who knows if I'll be allowed time off. At the same time, however, my new no-procrastinating goal would seem to indicate that I shouldn't avoid doing something that I want to do simply because some other obligation may arise later on. I also would like the opportunity to get to know my Aunt and Uncle a little better. I've been hermiting myself away so much lately that I don't really know a lot of the people that I feel I should know. I should decide for sure by the end of the week, but I think that right now there's a 75% chance that I'll end up going.
Now for a story about me being a really bad uncle: So my nephew was sick and throwing up on Saturday. While my sister and brother-in-law were dealing with him, I tried to keep my niece out of their hair by playing with her. Good plan, huh? Well, wait until you hear the rest of the plan. The second part of this plan was to send my niece screaming to her mother's arms while bleeding from the lip. Yeah. Distract the kid with a gushing wound. Good plan. The best part of the story, however, is that after she was mostly calmed down, my niece came up to me and said, "Uncle [Procrastinator], next time try not to do that. Okay?" Okay. I'll try not to make you bleed anymore. I promise.
I'm grateful for myfavoriteaunt (20).
I got a phone call from myfavoriteaunt yesterday. It was strange that she was calling to talk to me because I have little to no contact with any of my extended family. However, I'm glad that she did call. She called to tell me about a week-long writer's workshop that's going to be held in her area in June, and offered to let me stay with her and my uncle during the workshop if I decide I want to go. She also offered to pay for my application fee because she knows I'm not working and that money is a big concern of mine right now. How nice is that? I've wanted to do one of these extended writer's workshop/getaway things for some time now, but I haven't done it because of school and the fact that during the past tenish years of my life I haven't really had any definite idea about where I was going to be within a couple of months of any given time (as it turns out, a good bet would've been my parents' house). I'm kind of on the fence about committing to the workshop right now because I hope to have a job by then, and if I do, who knows if I'll be allowed time off. At the same time, however, my new no-procrastinating goal would seem to indicate that I shouldn't avoid doing something that I want to do simply because some other obligation may arise later on. I also would like the opportunity to get to know my Aunt and Uncle a little better. I've been hermiting myself away so much lately that I don't really know a lot of the people that I feel I should know. I should decide for sure by the end of the week, but I think that right now there's a 75% chance that I'll end up going.
Now for a story about me being a really bad uncle: So my nephew was sick and throwing up on Saturday. While my sister and brother-in-law were dealing with him, I tried to keep my niece out of their hair by playing with her. Good plan, huh? Well, wait until you hear the rest of the plan. The second part of this plan was to send my niece screaming to her mother's arms while bleeding from the lip. Yeah. Distract the kid with a gushing wound. Good plan. The best part of the story, however, is that after she was mostly calmed down, my niece came up to me and said, "Uncle [Procrastinator], next time try not to do that. Okay?" Okay. I'll try not to make you bleed anymore. I promise.
I'm grateful for myfavoriteaunt (20).
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