<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:16:04.267-08:00</updated><category term='Boyz II Men.'/><category term='Oh Brother Where Art Thou'/><category term='Beard'/><category term='facial hair'/><category term='breakups'/><title type='text'>Iv'e just stopped being surprised anymore</title><subtitle type='html'>Some time back in 1992 as a high school sophomore I was fairly sure I knew the gist of everything I needed to and what I was going to do, be, and what basic path I would use to get from point A to point B.  What followed... and followS, is nothing short of incredible.
This is a scattered accounting of that.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-8178014556673315110</id><published>2010-12-14T14:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T14:15:32.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the actual progress</title><content type='html'>Click &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ss1CXo8QMi8"&gt;HERE &lt;/a&gt;to see what I am doing grave injustice to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curly:When we on one rollin' tru da hood,&lt;br /&gt;Red Bone, aint no truf misunderstood.&lt;br /&gt;You set up in my big body wif All Days Flossin'&lt;br /&gt;My ride be dripping and it is all good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken heads and Hos bet jus scurry&lt;br /&gt;My P-ride bumpin base dat'l bury&lt;br /&gt;My P-ride Bumpin base Dat'l bury de rest on my block&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Rims Bling cause I drops da cheddar&lt;br /&gt;If you holla "shotty" den you sittin on some leathar&lt;br /&gt;Crack heads dat triffle find dat dey gettin deader cause my 9 go pop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My anchors be choppin' an dey 24k, &lt;br /&gt;an even at night dey glowin'&lt;br /&gt;My windows so tinted dat even in the day, you ain't even know where you goin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aftermarket halogens a grinnin',&lt;br /&gt;You my shawty like I said in duh beginnin'&lt;br /&gt;Get dat badonk in my ride get to sinnin' or it's time to hop&lt;br /&gt;Out my P-ride bumpin base out beside the pawn shop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eller:  Is it tru yo Woofers 15 inch?&lt;br /&gt;Curly:  Bitch you know dem shits are 15 inch.&lt;br /&gt;Laurey: Does it really have a Custom Crome wrap Package?&lt;br /&gt;Curly: Yes it's Chrome, a sure as you my wench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;below is untranslated, I will be coming back to work it through... That is the first part... then memorizing and figuring out a scooby filtered Borat... Hmm I don't know, I might have to make two versions, a Pure Borat word structure with some ebonics thrown in (a la his trip to ATL in the movie) and then simply scooby voice that. it's not easy....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the world'll fly in a flurry&lt;br /&gt;When I take you out in the surry&lt;br /&gt;When I take you out in the surry with the fringe on top.&lt;br /&gt;When we hit that road, hell-for-leather&lt;br /&gt;Cats and dogs will dance in the heather&lt;br /&gt;Birds and frogs'll sing all together and the toads will hop!&lt;br /&gt;The wind'll whistle as we rattle along,&lt;br /&gt;The cows'll moo in the clover&lt;br /&gt;The river will ripple out a whispered song,&lt;br /&gt;And whisper it over and over&lt;br /&gt;Don't you wish you'd go on forever&lt;br /&gt;Don't you wish you'd go on forever&lt;br /&gt;Don't you wish you'd go on forever And you'd never stop?&lt;br /&gt;In that shiny little surry With the fringe on the top.&lt;br /&gt;I can see the stars gittin' blurry&lt;br /&gt;When we ride back home in the surry&lt;br /&gt;Ridin' slowly home in the surry With the fringe on top&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the day gettin' older&lt;br /&gt;Feel a sleepy head near my shoulder&lt;br /&gt;Noddin', droopin', close to my shoulder Till it falls kerplop.&lt;br /&gt;The sun is swimmin' on the rim of a hill&lt;br /&gt;The moon is takin' a header.&lt;br /&gt;And jist as I'm thinkin' all the earth is still&lt;br /&gt;A lark'll wake up in the meader.&lt;br /&gt;Hush, you bird. My baby's a sleepin'&lt;br /&gt;Maybe got a dream worth a keepin'&lt;br /&gt;Whoa, you team an' jist keep a creepin' At a slow clip, clop.&lt;br /&gt;Don't you hurry little Surry With The Fringe On the Top.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-8178014556673315110?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8178014556673315110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=8178014556673315110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8178014556673315110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8178014556673315110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2010/12/actual-progress.html' title='the actual progress'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-8461737819711271701</id><published>2010-12-14T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T14:28:32.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>work in progress</title><content type='html'>Once upon I time, I fancied myself an actor.  Late one night over some beverages, my friend Margarita challenged me to do the following to Surrey with the fringe on Top of Oklahoma fame by Rodgers and Hammerstein&lt;br /&gt;1. Translate this song into Ebonics. (with possible modernizations if it seems a good choice artistically)&lt;br /&gt;2. Learn to sing it in a voice whereby Borat is talking like Scooby Do. Or is it, Scooby Do talking like Borat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't recall, but I Will do which ever seems the most appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;This should prove quite challenging.  I have been given march as my deadline to deliver.&lt;br /&gt;This is just me writing it down and holding myself to the fire about it. Below are the original Lyrics, the next post will be the original lyrics at first, and then I will edit them over time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curly:When I take you out tonight with me&lt;br /&gt;Honey, here's the way it's gonna be&lt;br /&gt;You will set behind a team of snow-white horses&lt;br /&gt;In the slickest gig you'll ever see.&lt;br /&gt;Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry&lt;br /&gt;When I take you out in the surrey&lt;br /&gt;When I take you out in the surrey with the fringe on top&lt;br /&gt;Watch that fringe an' see how it flutters&lt;br /&gt;When I drive them high-steppin' strutters&lt;br /&gt;Nosy pokes will peak through their shutters and their eyes will pop!&lt;br /&gt;The wheels are yellow, the upholstery's brown&lt;br /&gt;The dashboard's genuine leather.&lt;br /&gt;With eisenglass curtains you can roll right down&lt;br /&gt;In case there's a change in the weather&lt;br /&gt;Two bright side-lights winkin' and blinkin'&lt;br /&gt;Ain't no finer rig I'm a thinkin'&lt;br /&gt;You can keep yer rig if yer thinkin' that I'd keer to swap&lt;br /&gt;Fer that shiny little surry with the fringe on the top&lt;br /&gt;Eller:Would you say the fringe was made of silk?&lt;br /&gt;Curly:Wouldn't have no other kind but silk&lt;br /&gt;Laurey:Has it really got a team of snow-white horses?&lt;br /&gt;Curly:One's like snow, the other's more like milk.&lt;br /&gt;All the world'll fly in a flurry&lt;br /&gt;When I take you out in the surry&lt;br /&gt;When I take you out in the surry with the fringe on top.&lt;br /&gt;When we hit that road, hell-for-leather&lt;br /&gt;Cats and dogs will dance in the heather&lt;br /&gt;Birds and frogs'll sing all together and the toads will hop!&lt;br /&gt;The wind'll whistle as we rattle along,The cows'll moo in the clover&lt;br /&gt;The river will ripple out a whispered song,&lt;br /&gt;And whisper it over and over&lt;br /&gt;Don't you wish you'd go on forever&lt;br /&gt;Don't you wish you'd go on forever&lt;br /&gt;Don't you wish you'd go on forever&lt;br /&gt;And you'd never stop?&lt;br /&gt;In that shiny little surry With the fringe on the top.&lt;br /&gt;I can see the stars gittin' blurry&lt;br /&gt;When we ride back home in the surry&lt;br /&gt;Ridin' slowly home in the surry With the fringe on top&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the day gettin' olderFeel a sleepy head near my shoulder&lt;br /&gt;Noddin', droopin', close to my shoulder Till it falls kerplop.&lt;br /&gt;The sun is swimmin' on the rim of a hill&lt;br /&gt;The moon is takin' a header.&lt;br /&gt;And jist as I'm thinkin' all the earth is stillA lark'll wake up in the meader.&lt;br /&gt;Hush, you bird. My baby's a sleepin'Maybe got a dream worth a keepin'&lt;br /&gt;Whoa, you team an' jist keep a creepin' At a slow clip, clop.&lt;br /&gt;Don't you hurry little Surry With The Fringe On the Top.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-8461737819711271701?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8461737819711271701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=8461737819711271701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8461737819711271701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8461737819711271701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2010/12/work-in-progress.html' title='work in progress'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4025494388295421279</id><published>2010-04-27T22:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T22:45:40.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mas y mas aqua blanca!</title><content type='html'>Man o man.... I have been such a slacker with my blog.  And, as I have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;previously&lt;/span&gt; set forth... this is how I had hoped to leave at least a slight record of my life.  And really, all I can say is that life is good.  I keep taking my beat downs coupled with new &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;achievements&lt;/span&gt; in my Kayak.  I continue to enjoy my job and Football.  As Captain of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Greenman&lt;/span&gt; Coed, the little team that could is having it's best season to Date and I am so proud to be a part of it.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Greenman&lt;/span&gt; open is also doing well and as one of the old farts on the team I am happy to actually be wanted and needed in the success of that team.  Jack of the Wood, my Over 30 team, has also had some great matches as of late and that warms my heart as well.  I love the brothers and sisters that I get to share the pitch with.  These are blessings in my life. &lt;br /&gt; And now I must elaborate on the kayaking.  I have two guys in particular that are taking me under their wing.  They are Justin &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Doroshenko&lt;/span&gt; and Aaron &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oswaldt&lt;/span&gt;.  Both are quite good on white water and they are both so excited to watch me move forward as a paddler.  I know so little, but I am learning fast.  They keep me safe while I take my lumps.  I love how they really get excited about my progress.  Each new eddy out, each new clean line run on increasingly bigger water, every time I ferry across faster and chunkier sections of white water, each time a charge through a bigger hole, and even each time I eat it and then have another successful swim.  With each of these guys I feel like they just kind of drifted away from running rivers, but they now find new joy in bringing a newbie along in the sport.  I just love the challenge, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; I think they love that I love it.  A few weeks ago I did the French Broad at 4000 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cfs&lt;/span&gt; and REALLY got my arse handed to me.  I had 4 swims including one that started with a massive &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;unintentional&lt;/span&gt; stern squirt at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kayaker's&lt;/span&gt; ledge.  I feel that that day was a critical junction for me in the sport.  Seeing as how I do not have any sort of Roll yet, when I get up-ended, it means that I must wet exit and swim.  One of these swims took me though the bottom half of "ledges" which is the longest rapid on the French Broad.  I also had a good swim on the last half of Pinball a few days ago.   Sure, a swim is scary when you don't plan for it, but now I do it with composure and relative calm.  The other thing that makes me and my mentors happy is that, in each of the last swims I first made some strong attempts to keep the boat upright before finally rolling upside down and ejecting.  All these things are just marks of progress.  When I look back at where I was this fall and what I knew it is so great to be where I am now.  I hope that in another 6 months I can see that I am yet again nothing like what I was...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4025494388295421279?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4025494388295421279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4025494388295421279' title='32 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4025494388295421279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4025494388295421279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2010/04/mas-y-mas-aqua-blanca.html' title='Mas y mas aqua blanca!'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>32</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4038486720581330407</id><published>2010-03-09T16:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T17:03:06.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some thing Old, some thing new</title><content type='html'>Something Dorky,  When I was 15 A few upper &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;class men&lt;/span&gt; on my swim team in high school introduced me to the band, They Might Be Giants.  I have most of what they have done.  I just love them.  The new Album, "The Else" is really solid.  It very well be my favorite.  They are musical savants.  These guys just keep cranking out music.  Music I like.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;TMBG&lt;/span&gt; is not an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;acquired&lt;/span&gt; taste... you pretty much know from the get go if it is for you.  Some of the most nasal singing you have ever heard, use of all sorts of odd ball instruments.  But it is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;technically&lt;/span&gt; brilliant stuff, tight vocal harmonies (one can harmonize even with the nasal).  They are one of the tightest groups you will ever see in terms of live play.  The other thing is that they simply revel in their &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dorkiness&lt;/span&gt; and the crowd is always on board.  Pure cheese.  Congo lines form at the bands request.  We do whatever silly thing we are asked to do, because it's fun and who cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;TMBG&lt;/span&gt; is an experience.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am off to go have some fun with these guys, just like I did in the 90's... and the 00's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4038486720581330407?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4038486720581330407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4038486720581330407' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4038486720581330407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4038486720581330407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2010/03/some-thing-old-some-thing-new.html' title='Some thing Old, some thing new'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-2726121364578138556</id><published>2010-02-12T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T21:36:30.960-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Olympic games random thoughts</title><content type='html'>1. The Inuits rock. They are my favorite aboriginal people of Canada.&lt;br /&gt;2. The winter games are so white even the guy (the only one) from Algeria looks white.&lt;br /&gt;3. Why don't they have like... snow Wrestling... or ice boxing?  I'd watch that shiite.&lt;br /&gt;4.Dude, I'd totally love to be some punk trust fund Kid from the Caribbean and be in the Winter games... SOOO much better than being doing it the other way... a la Eric Moussambani.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zjCc_VyxM4"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zjCc_VyxM4&lt;/a&gt; (PS those other two dudes were punk ass B*tches)&lt;br /&gt;5.Of course the Germans put the ladies in Pink Vests and the guys had Powder Blue ones... Always practical...&lt;br /&gt;6. So those Aboriginal Canadians have been dancing for the entire parade of nations, did they give them E?&lt;br /&gt;7. Common on India, yall got a billion of you and those little mountains... what are they called, oh yeah, the Himalayas... and you bring 3 people?&lt;br /&gt;8. Awww man! no cool runnings this year!  Damnit.&lt;br /&gt;9. Dude that Flag bearer for Switzerland... the ice skater... Just take the L out...&lt;br /&gt;10. Ok all the Folks in white along the entrance corridor are making the best Canadian Soul Train evs!&lt;br /&gt;11. Um, no, I don't actually think my mom likes Shawn White...&lt;br /&gt;12. 82 nations... so if global warming continues, how many are we going to have next time?&lt;br /&gt;13. China... precise. Canada, cool and wavy.&lt;br /&gt;14. In Canada, men must have big hair.  It's kinda like Tennessee for Women...&lt;br /&gt;15.Ok wait, one of those Aboriginal Canadians looked like he was in the cure. How am I supposed to feel about this?&lt;br /&gt;16. Donald Sutherland is Canadian too???&lt;br /&gt;17.Trippy.... they got good weed in BC, this is common knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;18.Orca spouts... niiiiice.&lt;br /&gt;19.It needs repeating... Canadians... Cool and wavy.&lt;br /&gt;20.Of course the French Canadian part would start all weird and douchey.&lt;br /&gt;21.Wondering what 1.3 Billion Chinese think about fiddle jams.&lt;br /&gt;22.Note to self, do not attempt tree pose with built in lit sparklers on your shoes.&lt;br /&gt;23. Indoor Flag Stuff, A good blow job is hard to come by... just look at those flags just strugglin'&lt;br /&gt;24. Ah yes the finest in Canadian engineering... enh 3 out of 4 aint bad eh?&lt;br /&gt;25. I wonder which of the four of them got punked, I really hope it was not the Handicapped guy.&lt;br /&gt;Um, that is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-2726121364578138556?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2726121364578138556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=2726121364578138556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2726121364578138556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2726121364578138556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2010/02/olympic-games-random-thoughts.html' title='Olympic games random thoughts'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-1000214168360613646</id><published>2010-02-02T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T18:32:03.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quizzo HOOOOOOOOOO!</title><content type='html'>Once again we are winning team names. (see the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;november&lt;/span&gt; post to see said names).  And at this point we are in the midst of a 6 week championship at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;quizzo&lt;/span&gt;.  Last week we were in a 3 way tie for third, this week a tie for second. I figure we are solid top 3 if not in first place at this point.&lt;br /&gt;  Oh life is good. And &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;quizzo&lt;/span&gt; is a small fraction of it.  This past weekend we had the second solid one foot snow of the year.  Myself and many of my best friends in town holed up in the most awesome house down in Fletcher and had a rip roaring good time sledding, drinking, playing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;farkle&lt;/span&gt; and watching movies.   There really is no point in the retelling of such an epic weekend.  It's one of those you had to be there kind of things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-1000214168360613646?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1000214168360613646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=1000214168360613646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1000214168360613646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1000214168360613646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2010/02/quizzo-hoooooooooo.html' title='Quizzo HOOOOOOOOOO!'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6005226260120492349</id><published>2009-12-23T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T00:05:37.005-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something I have to say</title><content type='html'>"Dear life, thank you for being mine.&lt;br /&gt;Dear friends and family, thank you for being in it."&lt;br /&gt;-me&lt;br /&gt;just now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I googled the two sentences separately... nothing came up as an exact match on either.&lt;br /&gt;so, maybe it is a quote attributable to me... But I wish it wasn't. Other people should feel this too.&lt;br /&gt;And here's to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hoping&lt;/span&gt; that for anyone I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6005226260120492349?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6005226260120492349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6005226260120492349' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6005226260120492349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6005226260120492349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/12/something-i-have-to-say.html' title='Something I have to say'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6474094068587386197</id><published>2009-12-22T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T10:27:46.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To cold to paddle.</title><content type='html'>Well that is fine I need to be running anyway.  What is also fine is that the solstice has just passed.  More light, more sunshine pouring down on the earth to warm it back up.  Though it is odd how sunlight and the seasons work.  The hottest and coldest times always lag behind the simple number of daylight hours.  I suppose my running is like that.  For the past few years I have coasted on old fitness from 2006.  but that is gone gone now.  I really need to put a solid year of effort back into it to get myself where I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;What I need to do is adopt a policy where I don't get to go paddling until I have run X amount that week or something like that.  Maybe every 10 miles means I get to play on the water for a few hours or every 30 earns me a proper trip. this would work... you know if I stick to it... well time to go for another clunky calf deep crusty snow run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6474094068587386197?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6474094068587386197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6474094068587386197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6474094068587386197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6474094068587386197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-cold-to-paddle.html' title='To cold to paddle.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4039701742485563098</id><published>2009-12-10T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T17:23:58.177-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet another reason why I am going to hell</title><content type='html'>If it exists, I am. Today's reason? While I was piddling around the house doing a little work this product concept pops into my head.&lt;br /&gt;"Christ-ums"&lt;br /&gt;with slogans like&lt;br /&gt;"Christ-ums, savior flavored snacks!&lt;br /&gt;Can't make it to mass? Or just hungry for a little taste of the lord?&lt;br /&gt;Why open up a box of Christ-ums!"&lt;br /&gt;and a few other ads popped into my head along those lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I can't help it... this is funny to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My Good Friend Doro also suggested Jezits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4039701742485563098?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4039701742485563098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4039701742485563098' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4039701742485563098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4039701742485563098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/12/yet-another-reason-why-i-am-going-to.html' title='Yet another reason why I am going to hell'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-8284227545774441275</id><published>2009-12-01T06:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T11:00:13.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Consequence free learning.</title><content type='html'>I had a wonderful 5 and a half hour run down the lower green with my Jedi Master Doro. Nice easy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;consequence&lt;/span&gt; free class 1's and 2's with long washouts after them. He is teaching me that you can become a total bad ass on whitewater without ever touching a class 4 or 5 rapid. And in fact that you really aught to be one before before you hit the big stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The basic concept is to do extremely difficult &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;maneuvers&lt;/span&gt; better faster and quicker on small water. In fact that is how I managed to flip soul train for the first time. Of course, Justin won't teach me my roll until I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;proficient&lt;/span&gt; at everything else so I had to eject and swim. For the last day in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;November&lt;/span&gt; honestly it was not that bad. I DID have a semi dry top on that Justin let me borrow and that really helped matters. He also says, if you ain't swimming, you &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ain't&lt;/span&gt; trying. And that is valid. In fact, Justin swam shortly after pretending to use his paddle as a bazooka on the one decent surf wave on the lower green. Earlier he could be seen using his paddle as a helicopter blade stand in on a smaller wave. The concept of course is to illustrate that he is using his weight and balance to keep the boat on the wave rather than his paddle. Other possibilities are of course paddle guitar, the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Crucifixion&lt;/span&gt;, The machine gun, the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;samurai&lt;/span&gt;, etc. He was pushing me to find out what would happen if I stuck my bow into the top of the wave... I had already swam once that day and really didn't feel like initiating a bow stall in a boat not really made for it. Never mind that even if I was in a boat made for it I would still not know what to do about it.&lt;br /&gt;I ain't &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;trying&lt;/span&gt; to swim in January or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;February&lt;/span&gt; without some decent gear.   That being said, x mas should bring me enough goodies to manage messing around on the French Broad soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;Today it is cold and the water is high... so, no fun today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-8284227545774441275?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8284227545774441275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=8284227545774441275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8284227545774441275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8284227545774441275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/12/consequence-free-learning.html' title='Consequence free learning.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-5112493160738608090</id><published>2009-11-28T15:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T06:30:36.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Turning into Don Cornelius</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x48f04_soul-train-intro-1982_music"&gt;Friggen Awesome.&lt;/a&gt; I hope anyone who reads this also clicks on that to see the full glory that was the thing that always pissed us off as kids because it signaled the end of Saturday morning cartoons as it typically aired at 12 or so on Saturdays before college football came on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, but I digress (whats new?), back to Don. My Boat "The Soul Train" I first considered to be long and unwieldy. And, It's true to a minor extent. The Contour of the Animas's hull certainly does not contribute to it tracking straight, however, that curve will also make it easier for me to roll so.... what evs. A few weeks back Justin and I went out and got her in some class II borderline III water for the first time. More importantly he spent a lot of time working my total lack of technique. I have been back out alone 3 times since on relatively flat water to practice. But I really hadn't felt any huge break through until today when stuff finally started to click. The effective pulling force of my strokes has probably gone up %50 and the work load on my arms has been cut in half. I was twisting and dancing with the water. I had my shuffle in my head and I was making my own little music videos. Good paddling is smooth and looks effortless. JUST LIKE DON CORNELIOUS! Spooner likens it to calligraphy, it's a great analogy really. Now the ultimate thing would be if Don Cornelious was highly trained in Calligraphy...&lt;br /&gt;Today The Bent Creek section of the French Broad was running about 2400 or so and the water is REALLY starting to clear up. You can see about three feet into it. Which is rare for a flow rate this high. There is a river wide ledge that is about a foot and a half tall. The geologic feature makes two small standing waves that are each about 20 feet wide and are separated by a 10 foot wide flume of fast smooth water that rolls but does not crest. As I spawned upstream I noticed that my improvement in technique was really shooting Soul Train up the river with not much effort at all. I then Eddied out below the aforementioned ledge and started poking the bow of the boat into the froth. The wave was kind and I slipped in to some tentative surfing. I probably spent 10 minutes just sliding about on both sides of this baby rapid and had surprisingly little trouble crossing the flume as it too was kind of surfable, or could at least be *treated* that way. The afternoon sun shone into the submerged rock ledge and you could see large particles of sand and tiny pebbles spinning wildly in the hydraulic of the rapid. I could see how the presence of my bow was altering the flow in these undercut regions by the dancing of the pebbles. I was rapidly getting comfortable with the surfing so It was ok to watch the sand dance and just feel the boat move and respond with a lean or a quick push or pull of the paddle to stay in the sweet spot. Then I moved into the flume and calmly attained the next calm water 50 yards upstream, a few weeks ago I probably could not have done this at all, and If I had it would have taken a lot of frantic thrashing arm draining strokes. A feeling of pleased surprise washed over me as a Micheal Franti Song came on the Shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;A Little further upriver a larger set of riverwide rocks that are bigger and less uniform create a wider variety and size of surfable waves. I just whip over there and start sticking my nose into all of them moving at will from eddy to eddy including tiny ones that I would not have caught even a week ago. I spend a full 30 minutes playing around on these waves and then head back down stream as I need to get a little 30 minute jog in on the trails before dark. As I return to the easier ledge wave I giggle at how much easier it now is. I paddled straight into it and started surfing with much more understanding of what was going on and what to do. The same held for the other even smaller waves that put me on edge a week ago. &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Smooth, easy, stylish&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;That is How Don Does it&lt;/span&gt;. And the more I learn the more I know that it isn't Soul Train that is hard to handle. Rather, it was and is operator ignorance. But man does it feel good to keep learning the subtle little things that make the boat do what I want faster and more artfully.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-5112493160738608090?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5112493160738608090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=5112493160738608090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5112493160738608090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5112493160738608090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/11/turning-into-don-cornelius.html' title='Turning into Don Cornelius'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-2093189819217761201</id><published>2009-11-22T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T23:18:36.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have nothing to say, and, I, am, saying it.</title><content type='html'>John Cage you strange strange man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HypmW4Yd7SY"&gt;4:33 for your listening pleasure.&lt;/a&gt; What-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tha&lt;/span&gt;-F$%#-ever. I personally would see fit to summon a thunderous fart 69 seconds into this "song".&lt;br /&gt;Oh and look here, you can &lt;a href="http://www.sheetmusicplus.com/look_inside/1008430/image/33"&gt;BUY the sheet music &lt;/a&gt;for this if you really want to play it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's true. Life has rocked along at a steady clip with no real "news" to report. I am getting myself on the water a lot in my kayak that I have dubbed "Soul Train". My buddy Justin has been kind enough to take me under his wing to teach me what I will need to handle a kayak properly. Side note, many of the ladies have dubbed Justin and I a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bromance&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;1. They just &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hatin&lt;/span&gt;' cause they jealous.&lt;br /&gt;2. yeah, it is. I do enjoy acting like a smart ass and punishing my liver with this cat. We pretty much grew up doing the same stuff. He is definitely "my people" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Spooner&lt;/span&gt; called that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just started running a bit as the fall soccer season grinds to a halt. Nothing on the lady front. Work is busy as ever. When I see folks I have not seen in months I really have almost nothing interesting (and factual) to tell them.&lt;br /&gt;I have two and a half hours to kill before the soggy and cold regular season finale of Jack of the Wood &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;FC&lt;/span&gt;... a rough season by any metric. And I can say with a high degree of confidence that our sister team, Green Man &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Untd&lt;/span&gt;. is going to hand us our asses in clean neat deli thin slices. But whatever, I like playing for Jack of the Wood. They are my peeps. I don't care to whore myself out to a winning team full of strangers. I played my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt; successful &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;futball&lt;/span&gt; from age 6 at glen &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;arden&lt;/span&gt; elementary all the way to state finals my senior year in high school. Winning was expected. Here its a blessing. Just balancing karma I '&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;supose&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is this post REALLY about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Quizzo&lt;/span&gt; team names.&lt;br /&gt;first, I must say that we have pulled second place 2 weeks running now and that really helps make the drinking cost less. BUT for the last 3 months I have made a conscious commitment to come up with team names in efforts to win free pitchers of beer. It's been going well.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to try and go back and think of some of these names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reaching way back, there was "The University of Michigan Center of Excellence" when &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ASU&lt;/span&gt; upset Michigan in football.&lt;br /&gt;Jane Carter has one of my all time favorites with "If Clinton didn't inhale then how did he come to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; High?"&lt;br /&gt;And I think &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Spooner&lt;/span&gt; used something her ?brother? said which was, "It's all fun and games until someone soils the yoga mat."&lt;br /&gt;some of my recent gems are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Show me on the Doll where the stock market touched you.&lt;br /&gt;Obama supports big girls, initiates the cash for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;chunkers&lt;/span&gt; program.&lt;br /&gt;What we have here is a failure to Co-masturbate (you &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nazi&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;In a perfect world she would have stuffed the tennis balls down &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;kanye's&lt;/span&gt; throat.&lt;br /&gt;NASA adopts hit it and quit it policy with the moon.&lt;br /&gt;Summers Eve to Sponsor Next Moon mission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am starting a stock pile of non-secs (for when nothing fun happens in the news)&lt;br /&gt;Quiz me in the morning and just walk away.&lt;br /&gt;Pearls of wisdom strung smartly into a necklace for you &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;muh&lt;/span&gt; lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Spooners&lt;/span&gt; "No means Yes, Yes means Harder"&lt;br /&gt;Don't Post Porn Joy, Unless she says "It's OK"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and there are others... I think of them and then they float off into the ether, but no more because I will just update this post and drop them here.&lt;br /&gt;Since the post, 5 additions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every Kiss Begins with Kay, and some Kisses end in KY"&lt;br /&gt;"Four Calling Girls, three french tarts, two skanky hos and Tiger is really sorry."&lt;br /&gt;"The worst white thing to hit the eastern seaboard since the pilgrims"&lt;br /&gt;"Toyota: Moving Forward, Whether you like it or not."- Spooner finished this team name after I popped the first part.&lt;br /&gt;Spooner alone gave us.&lt;br /&gt;"Obama White house New Yorker and the Economist Mag subscriptions, still trying to cancel Bush's highlites subscriptions."&lt;br /&gt;"UNC Poised to win Gold in Mens Downhill in Mens Downhill Basketball."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now team name winners, retired into the HOF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Smarty Pant Sweater" (Pronounced Smarty Pants Wetter)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-2093189819217761201?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2093189819217761201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=2093189819217761201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2093189819217761201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2093189819217761201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-have-nothing-to-say-and-i-am-saying.html' title='I have nothing to say, and, I, am, saying it.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-3760642137047291884</id><published>2009-10-01T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T16:35:57.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gay guys have it made</title><content type='html'>Well, I mean there are down sides to it due to rednecks and other sorts of right wingers.  But what I saw today was pretty funny.  The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;boyleston&lt;/span&gt; highway bridge park has a boat launch and some picnic tables.  It's rather unremarkable.  My Dad and I usually put in there when we float trip in the mad river canoe and fish for small mouth bass down to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;glenn&lt;/span&gt; bridge road or bent creek if we want to a. catch more fish and b. drink more beer.&lt;br /&gt;  Anyway, There are always guys hanging out in their cars or trucks down there... My dad joked that it was guys hooking up.  I was like "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;enh&lt;/span&gt; whatever".  But today when I went there to take my kayak out for my first time I paddled up and down that section of the river and noticed ALL the dudes just hanging out in their cars.  One would get out and walk into the woods, then another would go.  Then they would come back out a few minutes apart, but it was always two guys.  And there were more of them that started showing up just after 5.  Big burly redneck dudes, old guys, younger guys.    Some kind of sex collective, brilliant actually.   I mean think about it, had a bad day at work? Just go get some.  Straight people don't get to do that... or at least I don't know where to go for it... Well anyway.  I am sure that might lead to some nasty diseases.  Other than that it seems like a great thing.  To bad I am just not into dudes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-3760642137047291884?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3760642137047291884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=3760642137047291884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/3760642137047291884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/3760642137047291884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/10/gay-guys-have-it-made.html' title='Gay guys have it made'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6014275003237661434</id><published>2009-09-21T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T12:55:38.591-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my friends</title><content type='html'>The reason I know they are my friends is that they all want the best for me. I am crazy, everyone knows this. I am also an athlete, a survivor, a quick study, a high school record holder as a swimmer. I am a kid who played in water, loved it, respected it, and watched it move for as long as I can remember. I take it all into account when I figure out what I want to do. And when you go to do something crazy, ALL the people who really love you come forward and either offer opinions or straight up tell you what to do. The same sort of thing happened when I launched my own business. It is going wonderfully, and I am so happy that I have found a way to make my parents happy. Honestly it means more to me than making a decent living and slowly earning "freedom". I was always the kid that they feared for, not because I simply had no mental artillery, but because sometimes, I just skipped out on target practice so to speak. :-) My parents, Mom especially, had to suffer the anguish of watching what she is convinced is a super smart kid not achieve some great purpose in life. That annoyed me from age 5 to age 21. Then, I had to admit that I felt me same for my own daughter who has limitless potential as far as I can tell. I want so badly for her to be happy. I don't care how she does it but I want it for her more than anything. I don't care what she does, I just want her to have good life according to her. I'd like to think that my mom has less stress now because she knows I am happy. I love my job, I love my life. The route by which I came to here is a rocky one, but I am here. And I will keep doing what I do here living the life that has worked for me so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a hippy, kinda, I am not really driven, but I can be inspired. I am the only person in my family that does not have a masters degree, and in no uncertain terms I can tell that I'd rather eat excrement and die before going back to "formal" school. School and I do not agree. As you all know, I do what I do. I have just always lived, because that is what I do. I love life, and sometimes doing seemingly crazy stuff is a way to celebrate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter, my parents, my siblings, my friends, you all mean a lot to me, damn near everything in fact, and you always will. I'm going to have a pow wow tomorrow with some folks whose opinions and knowledge I have come to value. Then, we shall see. But I will make a decision based on the odds as I see them at that time. I think I have a pretty good handle on the consequences of falling out at the top of the series of rapids above big pillow, ledges or the top of frank bells. It is something I don't want to do, in fact, I don't want to fall out tomorrow at all if I go. There is no place at all minus maybe windy flats or the bottom of frank bells where a swim is no big deal... I have been told full well by folks that KNOW what they are talking about that a river in flood stage can mean death because of the way the water moves a layer or two down. Like a rip tide but with a chemical imbalance like Jack from the shining. I get it.&lt;br /&gt;I love living, I plan of doing a lot more of it for years and years. But I am not going to refuse to live at any point in time if I think that something that is going on "insane" but probably something you could live through if you go. My dad talks about the Gauley as a "bucket list" item. My sister has already done it. Well, I want to see the french broad raging. If things look good when I wake (by this I mean a big group with lots of guides and people I trust in a large group...) well, maybe we put in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nov. 21st, 2009 update.  Um, we did not. it was like 16000 cfs or something insane like that. A few days later we did rock it out at 6-7000 somewhere in there.  That was way fun.  I still want to see 10000 some day, but no more than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6014275003237661434?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6014275003237661434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6014275003237661434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6014275003237661434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6014275003237661434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-love-my-friends.html' title='I love my friends'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-7033092519809272569</id><published>2009-09-11T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T19:13:44.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear God how I MISS IT!</title><content type='html'>At this very moment, 12 of my friends are in two vans somewhere between Blowing Rock and Spruce Pine. They are this year's incarnation of Norm's Maggots. A most dominating force in the South East Running Relay world. I cut my teeth back in 2004 at Hood To Coast Relay and continued that trend with an Asheville (basically Norm's Maggots) relay team called the Evil Doers for 2004, 2005 and 2006. "Evil Doers" was a clear poke at G. W. Bushes BS. Anyway, the tiny town of Asheville would scrape together 9-12 local runners, go out to Portland Oregon and stack up against the best teams of runners throughout the USA and typically come in top 40 and as high as 19th (out of 1000+ teams mind you). Not too shabby for a little city that isn't even in the top 200 cities in the US by population, and I daresay probably not in the top 300. The final year, 2006, I served as Captain and created a true Coed Team. We always wanted one, but never had enough girls. There are all sorts of divisions, "open" (people of any age) Coed (must have 6 women minimum) submasters (all runners 30 or over) When I was 29 I was the lone reason that we did not win a top six award in "submasters". We always ran as "open" But had women, and 40 year olds and all sorts of people. Anyway, Norms Maggots finally won 6th in the coed division in 2006 when I was captain... But the drama that surrounded me being captain made all of that a phyrric victory. I have to blame most of it on my ex girl friend and a guy on our team. It took a lot of composure to survive that weekend. I did manage to have fun though. That is what matters, that and getting the first medal for an Asheville Hood to Coast team was nice as well. It was funny, we all partied so hard that the next day, only myself and my ex girlfriend stumbled down to the shoreline to collect our awards. Me... in a &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Hot pink Mohawk&lt;/span&gt; that I fashioned just for the relay... Jesus I was a cocky badass that year... But I had my reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me back up a minute. Every Tuesday, Norman Blair, Owner of Jus' Running and "lifer" in the sport or "activity" of running has been hosting a Tuesday track workout. Norm Has run over well over 100,000 miles in his life, and might hit 200,000 before it's all over. In his younger years he did things that few humans ever will in terms of running. He is truly an amazing person, but he isn't going to tell you about it unless you force him to. Anyway, he is a great guy, with a huge heart. Both Physically and metaphorically, so go get some shoes or gear from his shop. SERIOUSLY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the story, the Maggot workout leaves from the Shop on Merrimon ave. and a mile and a half later you find yourself at UNCA's track where you may do two more laps if you like to round it up to 2 miles even. At that point you are given "the workout" which is usually 6000-6400 meters of run like hell interspersed with 2000-2500 worth of stumble jog suck wind and get ready to run like hell again. Then, you get to haul your broken and tired body back to Jus' Running a mile and a half away. It is nasty, it is &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;hell on earth&lt;/span&gt;, it is typically the hardest workout you will do all week. And for folks who don't ever do track workouts, or do them alone without the eyes, legs and lungs of your peers to press you onward, it's harder than anything you have ever done save an actual race where you leave it ALL out there. Anyway, if you want to become a "serious" runner, Norm's Maggots is the best way in town for you to make that happen. It's got something for everyone, from the newbie trying to go from a 30:00 down to a 25:00 5K all the way to crazy fast folks trying to go under 14:00 for a 5K. The only groups this thing does not service is world class Olympic athletes and folks more than 50 pounds overweight... But all the way up to AND including semi pro folks who do show up at races and win decent money... Yup, this one's for you.&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE running relays. They are, in my opinion, the most amazing thing that you can do as runner. Individual races are fine, I have done the Boston Marathon... it's cool, I LOVE shut in ridge Trail Run, It is so challenging and visually stunning. But nothing beats these relays that are roughly 200 miles long and use 12 folks. The format is simple, there are 36 legs, you go in order. If you have 12 folks, god bless you, each person runs 3 times. Hood to Coast Relay is 197 miles or so, If you don't have 12... well, everybody just runs more. H2C starts at Mount hood and goes, you guessed it, to Seaside Oregon. Do the math, and as you can see, each person on a "full" team is facing an average of 16.5 miles each. Some get a little more, some a little less. Anyway, you arrange your team according to the abilities that they have. I am a sprinter and a downhill runner... I personally got to run down mount hood twice. Which I count as an honor and a badge of courage, because it does destroy your legs. One time, we wound up with 10 folks and injuries setting in on others. I ran 4 times and polished off 23 miles I think. It was painful, I was not particularly fit for that one. In fact, 2006 was the only time that I was really fit.&lt;br /&gt;I will go back and run hood to coast again, I swear it. It is really fun, and a great experience. When? who knows, but I will. Those races taught me how to survive running hard 3 times within 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt;Now then, back to my 12 sweaty, tired, aching friends winding through the mountains of western North Carolina in the pitch black.... Back in 2005 the blue ridge relay was started. 10 teams came together and participated. H2C is always the week before labor day, BRR is always the week after it. I had just killed myself in H2C and was not going to do the BRR just two weeks after (though some maggots actually do this some times). Norm's Maggots won the first year and beat the other 9 teams. They ran a crazy 208 hilly miles through a much rougher course than hood to coast. In 2006 I once again said, no I am running Hood to Coast and must pass on the dreaded double. Then in 2007 while launching my own business I proceeded to get totally out of shape. The Maggots had won again in 2006 and were looking to defend the title. I was out on a date on Thursday night and I was... to be honest, getting drunk and enjoying the company of a young woman. Gary, the Captain of the Maggots called me with a situation. They were two runners short and he was looking for someone to fill the gap. I told him the following.&lt;br /&gt;1. I WAS getting drunk,&lt;br /&gt;2. I was going to have a lot of "relations" that night and would not get much sleep.&lt;br /&gt;3. Yes I would be there at 8:00am on Friday morning and be ready to roll but I wouldn't be worth much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up that morning and dropped the young lady off at her dorm room... um yes... and then I went to CSV and got " the essentials" that I did not have. Those were as follows.&lt;br /&gt;1. immodium. (you just need it for this kind of relay)&lt;br /&gt;2. Duct tape ( for your feet if anything goes wrong)&lt;br /&gt;3. String cheese&lt;br /&gt;4. Tums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already had "endurolytes" which are salt pills. You take those and drink a lot of water to fix the hang over and it's nasty effects on the body and also it helps from leg to leg during the race.&lt;br /&gt;So, I turn up at home trust bank all disheveled and post hook up at 8am... And I ask the "rookies" on the teams if they have the essential items and list them... oh it was sooooo cute, they are looking at me like I am crazy. Before it was all over, they all needed these items (and it was not pretty sometimes). Anyway, I ran myself sober during the 2007 relay, we won again. 2008, I was put out of commission by an injury but toed the line with my Maggots woefully out of shape. I ran smart and did my little part, but the team was uber stacked and we ran away from the competition again and smashed our own record by almost an hour . In 2007, with only 11 runners I helped keep other folks from suffering the 4th leg agony but didn't make us faster. In 2008, to be honest, they would have ran faster if there were only 11 and left me at home, but the 12 is a nice team concept. And I KNOW how to do these sort of relays. I was there for my knowledge, not my legs.&lt;br /&gt;That brings us to right now. For some reason, People scheduled Asheville Half Marathon a week early, and thus it went to the same weekend as the BRR. Asheville Half is one of my biggest races of the year. I simply can't walk away from it and what it means to my business. This meant that, for the first time since 2003 I could not do a running relay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I ache for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hauling ass through the night, no noise except for the slap of your feet against the road, your breath visible in the head light in front of you. Just pounding forward, Scared for your team, running for the record, grinding your flesh in carefully and painfully measured portions into the all important clock, running to keep your team ahead of the team that is there to challenge you (because in Blue Ridge Relay, there is always at least one) Then after the painful lonely unknown, a light ahead, the exchange point, you lift your knees and heels and drive the whole suffering mass of one leg down and one leg to go homeward, screaming "MAGGOT!!!!!" at the top of your overdrawn lungs to let your team mates know that the Maggots relay is coming and it's time to send another of your 11 friends tearing up the road in their quest for the team's greatness.&lt;br /&gt;At 8:00 tonight I called Matt Roane, one of the team members to get an update, the first van ran smart and was 2 minutes behind team Mizuno, this years big threat. Team Mizuno= a super star team of guys from all over the southeast trying to be the first team other than Norm's Maggots to take the Blue Ridge Relay, which has now grown to over 100 teams. The second van took over and extended a 10 minute lead over team Mizuno. Word is one of team Mizuno became injured or is getting Ill. The Maggots are weathering well.&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, I hope my maggots all ran smart and persist through the night. Trials of Miles and Miles of Trials, not to mention trying to not get lost in the dark. I just wish I was there... Oh well, back to work.&lt;br /&gt;I made a silly video of last years race from the Maggot point of view. Well OK, the Prancer Maggot point of view. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FPG6mcZmqzQ"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FPG6mcZmqzQ&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully The Maggots Defend the title... Either way the relay record is going to fall. I give it a 98% chance of this happening. The record pace is a blistering 6:19 per mile over hills and some gravel, it's not all paved. Some of the mountain passes are a pain to walk never mind run. That was good for 21 hours and 53 minutes...&lt;br /&gt;This is an edit to last nights post.&lt;br /&gt;The Maggots did defend the title.  They did so despite a wrong turn that cost 10-13 minutes and then a train that cost them more time (can't cross the tracks till the train passes).  Despite all that, they still beat the record from last year.  Team Mizuno put up a hell of a fight, I didn't hear the official time they ran but i may well have been within last years record.  They had the lead at times but were eventually vanquished by the disciplined and methodical hammering acceleration that only a seasoned Maggot team can administer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-7033092519809272569?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7033092519809272569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=7033092519809272569' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7033092519809272569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7033092519809272569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/09/dear-god-how-i-miss-it.html' title='Dear God how I MISS IT!'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-1665590837818682470</id><published>2009-08-31T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T00:52:56.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>Spindley elderly man well dressed with good hair cut stumbling drunk= Hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;Spindley elderly man in threadbare clothes with unkempt hair stumbling drunk= Sad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nearly impossible to disagree with this i think... why, a more complicated question.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-1665590837818682470?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1665590837818682470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=1665590837818682470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1665590837818682470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1665590837818682470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/08/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4406876655386768033</id><published>2009-07-31T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T18:52:46.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What this blog is actually for.</title><content type='html'>Yup...  my friends who care to view it, which isn't many as best I can tell, but if they want to know what is going on with me, I live my life straight up, my regrets are few.  My musings on life are a way to work things out to myself.  It's also a way that I can have a look back see what I was doing or feeling at a certain time.  Yup friends and neighbors, come on in and have a look.  But as far as I can tell, there are not a lot of people wandering into this corner of cyber space.  One time, a while back, when the crazy old redneck swung an axe at me, I threw it out on Face book that people should read this story, and if you don't know it, let me now link that back, especially since that other biker recently was SHOT at here in Asheville.  The bullet cracked the mans helmet, literally an inch from death.  The circumstances around that one are totally insane.&lt;br /&gt;Anywho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/mess-with-bull.html"&gt;http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/mess-with-bull.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for that little trip down my memory lack of bike lane. &lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I don't call attention to my blog, never have, never will.  Also if there is something the least bit sensitive, names are left off.  So, yup, this blog is for me. I look back and see what I have going on, what I was thinking, what ever.  But it won't ever be a place for me to bash specific people at specific times in plain print, well, not people I know personally.  Presidents, red necks with axes, people in the news, sure.  If I have taken the time to get to know someone, I do care about them.  I don't mean them harm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4406876655386768033?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4406876655386768033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4406876655386768033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4406876655386768033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4406876655386768033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-this-blog-is-actually-for.html' title='What this blog is actually for.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4732643538715290665</id><published>2009-07-30T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T08:29:40.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When you are indifferent</title><content type='html'>Well, I am in a really laid back state of mind these days.  I started to get into a relationship, and then I just kinda lolly gagged around and that ran her off.  I just wanted to hang out and enjoy some womanly company, I wasn't trying to really make the relationship go anywhere yet, just let it breath.  Meanwhile I think she was holding her breath.  People are strange.  All of us.  I am, she is, everything is.  I suppose when I stumble across somebody that I can't stand to not be around I suppose I'll put effort into it.  I have done it before, I'll do it again.  Some day.  It's just not happening now.  This last little thing was an exercise in indifference.  Id like to think that if I do meet some one that I can't resist that I'll be able to summon up enough of what I just did to keep everyone in the right spot in terms of interest and power.  A relationship is sustained in that way, both people staying interested, the give and take of control.  And then people giving each other what they need, but not always.  That is the fascinating thing about human nature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4732643538715290665?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4732643538715290665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4732643538715290665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4732643538715290665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4732643538715290665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-you-are-indifferent.html' title='When you are indifferent'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6198690391819762003</id><published>2009-07-10T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T11:44:02.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy little life</title><content type='html'>As I sit here and ponder what I am going to do with myself this weekend I am quite happy. I have these cool additions to my life and while Asheville Triathlon is bearing down on me I feel like I am a little bit ahead of where I was last year. Hopefully I can get some sleep in the days and hours leading up to it. Food is taken care of, awards and shirts are coming together, All I need to do is the normal pre-triathlon "stuff" at this point. I might even have some time to relax and breath a bit. My new hobby of getting on the river is something that I am about to go do again this afternoon. Since I basically refuse to get into a gym I must paddle to work my arms out. A little run in bent creek and then some flat water paddling upstream until my arms fall off and then just turn around and come back. good times, good times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6198690391819762003?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6198690391819762003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6198690391819762003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6198690391819762003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6198690391819762003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/07/crazy-little-life.html' title='Crazy little life'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-3947467937924885412</id><published>2009-06-18T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T07:21:07.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>why now?</title><content type='html'>I am busy as hell and have to get out of town... Historic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Badin&lt;/span&gt; Triathlon... I am "the dude" and I must abide everything for the next 72 hours... it's gonna be crazy.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I can't get this out of my head. New and inexplicable dress up party themes. New options in case the old classics, School girls and Professors, Tarts and Vicars etc. prove mundane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Construction workers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Geishas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Primates and Accountants&lt;br /&gt;3. Hookers and stuffed animals&lt;br /&gt;4. Aliens and Vikings&lt;br /&gt;5. Terrorist and Celery&lt;br /&gt;6. Surfers and Serial Killers&lt;br /&gt;7. Dictators and Smurfs&lt;br /&gt;8. Circus characters and Family Circus Characters&lt;br /&gt;9. Sex change patients and Star Wars Characters&lt;br /&gt;10. Sushi and Illegal substances&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are parties that I would like to see pictures of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh and to comment on the last post, still running solo and that is a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-3947467937924885412?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3947467937924885412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=3947467937924885412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/3947467937924885412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/3947467937924885412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-now.html' title='why now?'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-8927155340848685951</id><published>2009-04-10T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T20:27:29.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Homeward (beetchez)</title><content type='html'>AS the weather warms, I am so very happy to roam around downtown and get into all sorts of trouble.  If Asheville is the Paris of the south, then there can be little better than late spring in Asheville.  I can tell it is going to be a fun summer.  Nothing really deep to reflect on at this time.  I am really happy to be single right now.  This of course means that I will more than likely find myself in a relationship pretty soon.  I have been single for a good long time now... and life never sits still, so I must assume that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; is on the horizon.  Till then, long may I run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-8927155340848685951?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8927155340848685951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=8927155340848685951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8927155340848685951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8927155340848685951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/04/look-homeward-beetchez.html' title='Look Homeward (beetchez)'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-1542483121657341803</id><published>2009-03-26T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T18:21:17.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Takes a lick</title><content type='html'>And keeps on ticking.  I finally feel that I kicked the core muscle pulls.  It is time to round the corner.  After several false starts back into running, I finally feel like this one is going to stick.  running feels good, the legs are tired but they keep going.  I can tell that I'll hit a big upswing in April. During that time, skinny boy is going to show up.  It's really all I can think about right now.  I need to be mindful and balance my life.  Yoga needs to happen soon.  I should not take this good luck and good health for granted.  I also need to get some meditation in.  I will need my mind and body to be tip top as summer comes on, my workload gets &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;heavier&lt;/span&gt; and my running weekly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mileage&lt;/span&gt; hits 90.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-1542483121657341803?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1542483121657341803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=1542483121657341803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1542483121657341803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1542483121657341803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/03/takes-lick.html' title='Takes a lick'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6769302394376635173</id><published>2009-03-21T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T17:00:22.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shadows to substantiate</title><content type='html'>For the first time since 2006 I raced locally. Last fall I did a race in complete anonymity down in Beaufort SC. It was a night time 5K and I ran a modest 19:19, I was 9th of 200. Dead flat short races are my forte however, downhills? even better. A hilly 12K on trails is far more challenging for my skill set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became hurt playing soccer (again) after that race and had to shut down till January. I have done a few races in the past few years, the Blue ridge Relay twice... playing the role of the fat kid on a winning relay. I am now in better shape than I was for anything since 2006 but that is not saying much. Starting in July of 2006 I went on a tear PR'ing every distance from the 800 meters out to the marathon.&lt;br /&gt;That man, is a shadow of my current self. He weighed 157 pounds, had a resting heart rate of 34, and ran 90 miles a week and did the occasional bike ride as well. That man would have completed today's 12k in 48 minutes or less. This man, the 180 pound 45 mile a week guy, ran it in the upper part of 55 minutes. There were 207 people racing. This man was 29th, that man would have been top 10 easy. This past few weeks I have started to build into the 40 mile a week range, it is just enough to start the transition. Muscle for fat. It causes my weight to drift subtly downward if at all but there is the blessed trade off. More power, less weight. My belt buckle comes in another notch every few weeks, easy runs are fun, faster and take less effort. The Engine is sputtering to life. Actually as my friend Jay Curwen might put it, the &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;furnace&lt;/span&gt; is lit. And if the &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Furnace&lt;/span&gt; is hot enough, anything will burn, sugar, fat, everything. Beer, Pizza, ice cream, whatever. Once I get above 60 miles a week, caloric intake is a concern only insofar as I must eat to fuel the effort. Hungry? then eat, eat till it hurts, I'll need to.&lt;br /&gt;It was a simple and humble beginning, 77 minutes of jogging during the first week of January. This week I am looking at 340 minutes which included my first track workout since 2006 and a tough but fun race.&lt;br /&gt;That is about halfway for this portion of the plan. by June 600 minute weeks are planned, and by then, speed and fitness should see all runs paced at 8 minutes per mile or below. Today's pace during the race was 7:29 per mile. Which is the pace I will be training at for rolling hill trail runs this summer.&lt;br /&gt;Why? I love the way it feels to be able to run that fast on basically no effort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6769302394376635173?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6769302394376635173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6769302394376635173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6769302394376635173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6769302394376635173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/03/shadows-to-substantiate.html' title='Shadows to substantiate'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6355679215513360781</id><published>2009-03-09T08:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T08:43:12.428-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breakups'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oh Brother Where Art Thou'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facial hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boyz II Men.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beard'/><title type='text'>Good bye my fuzzy friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311210900325484594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SbU2LIEVSDI/AAAAAAAAACw/AAyQAhEFe7E/s400/IMG_0607.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I suppose this is my break up letter with my beard. And Beard, it's not you, it's me. It's been fun, you kept me warm, especially at Snow Shoe last week when it was 1 degree F and 30 mile per hour winds. That F of course stands for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fugginheight&lt;/span&gt;. My cheeks were cold, but you, my beard, kept the rest of my face reasonably comfortable, and then used my breath and the snow that was falling to create nifty ice fangs. Long had I wished to be "that guy" on the slopes at least just once. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; made that dream a reality. Young guys who were really good riders just came up and asked me how the western territory runs were holding up. They came to me because, I was the guy. Beard you lent me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;credence&lt;/span&gt; and approachability. At the Acoustic Syndicate show you got me blended right in. These nice married girls who were very attractive approached me for protection from sketchy drunk guys because they saw strength and kindness in you oh beard. I have grown comfortable with you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Senoir&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Barba&lt;/span&gt;. You don't really itch anymore, I am not getting nearly as much food in you as I once speculated. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know you must be hurt, confused, and betrayed by this, but it is just a change of seasons, and well, they got this depression on....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If it is any consolation, I'll always remember you, but I don't think I can have you in my life to this extent any more. If I ever get trapped on an island, well of course you can come back, I'll need you for companionship then. Yes, I know that many of our friends are saying that they like us together and that I shouldn't break up with you... But, ultimately the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt; is mine. I'm sorry beard, I'm sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah recently made mention of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Boyz&lt;/span&gt; II Men in her blog. So this one's going out to you beard, my beard. Te &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;amo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Siempre&lt;/span&gt;. By the way, the guy with the cane cracks me the hell up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZcG0NBMcDA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZcG0NBMcDA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6355679215513360781?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6355679215513360781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6355679215513360781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6355679215513360781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6355679215513360781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-bye-my-fuzzy-friend.html' title='Good bye my fuzzy friend'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SbU2LIEVSDI/AAAAAAAAACw/AAyQAhEFe7E/s72-c/IMG_0607.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-502945876993404782</id><published>2009-03-05T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T20:28:02.535-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Michael Franti Workout program</title><content type='html'>I have made no secret about the fact that the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Franti&lt;/span&gt; and Spearhead show in the Orange Peel this Late Feb 2009 is the best show I have ever been to in my life. I have seen all manners of show. Crazy huge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rockin&lt;/span&gt; shows, quite small introspective listen and appreciate it shows. All points in between. And I rate each one of them for what they are. I don't just rate the big time noisy shows as tops. Any show is up for grabs for top honors. If sitting and listening is the order of the day then I look and see how amazing it is. A dead quiet audience that does not make a peep and then erupts in applause between songs can be what is called for.&lt;br /&gt;This show that I went to was amazing for 3 reasons.&lt;br /&gt;1. The band was on and expected &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; to really bring it.&lt;br /&gt;2. The audience knew that they knew they were in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; and brought more energy.&lt;br /&gt;3. The interaction between the two was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;unprecedented&lt;/span&gt; in my experience and they built on each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Band asked us to jump, we jumped. Hands in the air? Done. Clap? done. Sometimes just clap even when nobody told us to. Sing the song for the band, done well, done &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;LOUDY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;LOUDY&lt;/span&gt; LOUDER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here is what I learned about such a show. In order to fully prepare for it, you need to train. I consider myself in roughly average fitness for myself all time which puts me top 95&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; percentile of all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Americans&lt;/span&gt; my age. My friend Charley was at the show with me and she too is of similar fitness. But I must admit, the show was physically taxing for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you wanna see what it's like to be at this show do the following things.&lt;br /&gt;1. Set a timer for 120 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;2. Once every 12 minutes, jump up and down for 4 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;3. Once every 6 minutes put your hands up in the air, wave them, swing a towel or a shirt around. Something, or another, for 3 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Note that sometimes these things over lap.&lt;br /&gt;4. During the times when you might not be jumping. You are probably going to be shaking your ass and dancing pretty hard. So do that in between. 3 times during the show... tops, keep standing and just sway for 3 or 4 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;5. During all of this, be prepared to scream really loud, or sing some song lyrics as loud as you can quite often.&lt;br /&gt;What I learned,&lt;br /&gt;You need to come to the show with the following.&lt;br /&gt;1. not much clothes.&lt;br /&gt;2. a hand towel to wipe sweat and to swing around in the air.&lt;br /&gt;3. it. Bring "IT"&lt;br /&gt;The audience did all of this together for two hours plus. The show ended around midnight.&lt;br /&gt;I noticed some odd and amazing things.&lt;br /&gt;1. Not much beer being bought because the show is so intense, the front is packed and you really don't want to leave to buy beer or then the peeing that follows. I left the front once I think.&lt;br /&gt;I saw this show with 2 glasses of wine and a beer and a half in me total. Which means hardly buzzed. Which only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;enforces&lt;/span&gt; how good the show was.&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on about amazing moments during the show. All of the fun interactions and give and take of the band and the crowd but words would not do. But it was really special.&lt;br /&gt;I'll close the reasons that this was the best show with the following.&lt;br /&gt;1. After the encore, curtain calls, and bows. Mr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Franti&lt;/span&gt; hopped down into the pit and then walked across the front and touched hands, high 5's, clasps, the occasional word he took a solid 7-10 minutes to get from one edge to the other.&lt;br /&gt;2. It was midnight, and Charley had to get up in six hours and go to work. We had to leave after Michael came by where we were. But as we left we saw something else amazing. Even after that 2 hour workout, nearly everyone was staying and music (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Franti&lt;/span&gt; songs that we had not heard live) were playing on the PA system, AND everyone was dancing their ass off. House lights up and all. We danced our way through the crowd and had to go home. I wonder how many more songs were played and how long everyone stayed and danced. It was amazing and we hated to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an amazing show. I just got a total since of truth and purpose from Michael. At one point I leaned into Charley's ear and yelled, "This must be what the crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Jesus&lt;/span&gt; people feel when they are jumping up and down and singing!" I totally get it. Because Michael is just a man and he'd be the first to tell you that i bet despite how amazing he is. Imagine you are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;jumpin&lt;/span&gt; around like that for someone that you really feel is saving your eternal soul. That must really be something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-502945876993404782?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/502945876993404782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=502945876993404782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/502945876993404782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/502945876993404782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/03/michael-franti-workout-program.html' title='The Michael Franti Workout program'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6085920279116836476</id><published>2009-02-12T05:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T06:01:52.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Neti Pot is for babies.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SZQoK1dw89I/AAAAAAAAACg/fa2EwQqf6uc/s1600-h/neti.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301906827937641426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 127px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SZQoK1dw89I/AAAAAAAAACg/fa2EwQqf6uc/s200/neti.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A friend of mine mentioned that she had been using a neti pot every morning. I had no idea what that was. Turns out it is basically a little tea pot that you fill with warm salt water and you put the opening in one nostril and then let gravity do the rest. It is supposed to pour out the other nostril. It cleans you out and helps your sinuses... Well that is just great. good for those folks. I recently became sick. Did not feel like doing anything. Every morning there was the perfunctory &lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;brownish&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;green&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;yellow&lt;/span&gt; with &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;flecks&lt;/span&gt; of red united nations of crap pouring out of my head thus indicating that this cold mean business, liked my head, and wanted to settle in. Well I didn't very much like that idea. I rummaged around my disorganized bathroom sink cabinet looking for my silver bullet. A Neti pot you ask? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aw hell no.  H E L L no! I am not going to rely on gravity and gentle streams to penetrate the crud in my head and throat.  No, I go for "Saline Irrigation".  I have not had to do it for a long long time, but this is the first time I have been sick in recent memory and I just won't stand for it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     I take one of those ear wax removal bulbs (obviously a fresh one that has NOT ever been used for ear wax removal) and fill it with the hottest salt water and a pinch of baking soda that I can stand.  Then I put the tip in one nostril and pinch my nose shut with the thing in there.  I then exhale (to keep with salt water from going down my wind pipe) and smash the bulb as hard as I can.  Hot salt water flies all through my knoggin.  Drips in the back of my mouth down my throat, fills everything.  I then stay bent over the sink to let all the mess flee my head. I repeat for each nostril usually another time or two.  I used to cough or gag, but I have gotten used to the sensation and I tolerate it fairly well now even though it has been a few years since i have done it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rest of the day I can breath and I also know that I have really cleaned myself out.  Typically just one session does the trick, but if I wake the next morning stopped up at all, out it comes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Musinex commercial, kiss my ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6085920279116836476?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6085920279116836476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6085920279116836476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6085920279116836476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6085920279116836476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/02/neti-pot-is-for-babies.html' title='Neti Pot is for babies.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SZQoK1dw89I/AAAAAAAAACg/fa2EwQqf6uc/s72-c/neti.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4958850792014368747</id><published>2009-02-03T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T08:28:51.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clear the state...</title><content type='html'>...Of Mind&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SYhrO2qsVSI/AAAAAAAAACY/rprWmOYCppY/s1600-h/Monocle-man.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298602864538309922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 104px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SYhrO2qsVSI/AAAAAAAAACY/rprWmOYCppY/s200/Monocle-man.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have sat for a few minutes before and after yoga clearing the mind (as instructed). I don't drive much with my job, but when I do, it's often a few hours. It's nice to be alone with my thoughts some times. But sitting and meditating for 20 minutes. That is a new one. Sitting still, eyes closed and "thinking" but not thinking. Hauling a Trailer down I-40 at 60 miles an hour with eyes closed and not moving for 20 minutes would be ill advised. The Yoga instructor typically says clear the mind, not "think"... or, specifically think about one thing. No, with Meditation, My mind becomes the truck and trailer moving at 60 miles an hour... at first on the highway... but then pretty soon it just goes off road and then I think starts jumping through the occasional worm hole. I was told to allow thoughts to come in but then just let them pass. For a few minutes, honestly, nothing came to mind... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Was it a kink in the garden hose? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or was it a water melons worth of thoughts trying to push their way out of a spigot? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who knows? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who cares for that matter?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally a few started coming and then free association just kept issuing a new thought that was sometimes loosely connected to the previous thought, sometimes not. I am certainly not comfortable with it yet so I bumble around a bit in my own mind. I grinned occasionally and giggled a bit once at the bizarre non &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sequiturs&lt;/span&gt; that came forth. I also likened the thoughts to some turn of the century walk on a spring evening in Paris after the work day had ended, the thoughts were people all dressed up in their finest to see and be seen kind of strutting around in a slightly over dramatic manner. (a top hat and monocle sort of thing.) The thought comes up with a grand sweep of the hand coupled with a slight bow and says "How do you do?"  I say "Fine thank you how are you."  It then Ambles on into the pleasant night air.  Then another one strolls by.  And this is odd because I am in North America and it was clearly 11:30 in the morning. (which ironically puts it at early evening in Paris).  I had many layers of thought going all at once.  Some of it was simply commentary on each thought, some of it was trying to find the pattern in the thoughts.  And then thankfully, most of it was just the passing thoughts themselves.  I feel that this is what it is supposed to be... but hell I don't know.  It's my meditation and the bottom line is this.  What must I do to gain a little clarity?  Clearly its a Chinese finger trap.  It is something that I must allow rather than force...   At any rate, it's something new for me.  And I think I'll go sit down and &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;SEEMINGLY&lt;/span&gt; do nothing at all for another 20 minutes.  But things are happening non the less.  I do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; that much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4958850792014368747?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4958850792014368747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4958850792014368747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4958850792014368747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4958850792014368747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/02/clear-state.html' title='Clear the state...'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SYhrO2qsVSI/AAAAAAAAACY/rprWmOYCppY/s72-c/Monocle-man.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-8817311246793931732</id><published>2009-01-31T07:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T08:50:52.468-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't be clumsy twice in a row.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SYRzsp38LVI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2k1DJ0BSBr0/s1600-h/IMG_0556.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297486272686468434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SYRzsp38LVI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2k1DJ0BSBr0/s400/IMG_0556.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Writing... I do like how it sometimes forces you to flesh out an idea a little more than you would have if you just thought it out instead and then moved on. This installment is founded on minutia. I made some eggs for breakfast and then with plate in one hand I reached into the fridge for some &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Tabasco&lt;/span&gt;. It was on a ledge rather than in the door where most people would put condiments... but my fridge runs bare most of the time, so stuff just goes where ever. I clumsily grasped at it (that's what she said) and I sent it flying toward the kitchen floor. With the same offending hand I circled around and caught it mid air, plate of eggs still level. And with a lack of humility I hissed "&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Yesss!"&lt;/span&gt; to the &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;morning sun that was flooding the living room&lt;/span&gt; and pumped the first clutching the Tabasco. The pumping was good, both celebration and function... (shake well) I added the Tabasco to the salsa on the eggs, took a bite to test and then made my way over to my desk to 15% work and 85% eat I then managed to unbalance the fork just as I was maneuvering to sit. Once again a hand shot out and caught the fork mid air before it had a chance to stain the nice clean carpet with salsa and egg. Within the space of 2 minutes, two instances of clumsy. No harm done however. A full bottle of un-shattered Tabasco is safely back in the fridge and the salsa and eggs are all safely in my tummy rather than some of them in the carpet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inattention, bad luck, poor thought processes... these can lead to "oops". The cool thing about oops is that many times, if you act quickly and correctly you can then create a solution before the consequences of "oops" fully manifest themselves. The American Public made an Oops a little over 8 years ago. Some how or another, four years later no hand shot out to catch the falling item, no we just allowed four more years of shattered Tabasco all over out kitchen floor and no one stepped up to end sub prime balloon mortgages. At first I thought it was insane with cars... but said hmmm, whatever. But houses? HOUSES? Of course, I have known what it was like to be house poor and then house screwed when i lost my job in 2001 and vowed I would never do it again. I will straight buy future housing after this condo. That is to say that I will have paid the condo off, then I will start working on a down payment on a modest stand alone house out in the woods. I will then have a single mortgage to pay for the period of time during which I sell the condo. Then, with the money from the Condo, that will go to destroy the mortgage of the new house. Done done and DONE. See, there is me not being clumsy twice in a row. I am sure that there are some mistakes that I make over and over again. I think I will take some time the next time I have to drive a long distance and figure out what those things are. It can sometimes be very hard to be self critical. Looking at America, our Oops is plain as day. &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;The middle east,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Dependency on Oil and other fossil fuels&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;corruption of the rich&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;financial retardation of the middle and lower classes&lt;/span&gt;. That just names a few. Let me clarify the retardation. Buying too much house, to many nice things. They couldn't afford it, but we kept making it (or China did I suppose) now all of a sudden... we are all not just kinda out of money... I mean we are OUT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's all too late now. There was no magic hand to grab that bottle before it struck the tile floor. Grab a mop, be careful to not cut yourself, and don't sniff in too deep while you are picking up the glass shards. Clean up in Isle &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;world&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-8817311246793931732?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8817311246793931732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=8817311246793931732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8817311246793931732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8817311246793931732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-be-clumsy-twice-in-row.html' title='Don&apos;t be clumsy twice in a row.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SYRzsp38LVI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2k1DJ0BSBr0/s72-c/IMG_0556.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6147836833913225756</id><published>2009-01-26T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T08:24:17.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Creatures of Habit</title><content type='html'>We all are.  I have changed a good number of habits in the last few days.  I can do that fairly well.  The more I sit here and try to type, the more I understand that I have no clue where I am going with this.  It can't go on the blog.  This is nothing more than a personal mental book mark so that in the future, I can come back, read this and then recall ... ah yes, the thing about the thing.  At any rate, one of the craziest things I can think of is when you do all this work to route the water of your soul into the channels that you feel  best serve it and then a full moon tide sweeps in and lets you know that you actually have no idea what you are doing.  No idea at all.  You stand waist deep in muddy water with sand in your shoes, slightly uncomfortable, a little chilly, and all you can think about is... "well what is this going to look like after the water recedes?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6147836833913225756?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6147836833913225756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6147836833913225756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6147836833913225756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6147836833913225756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/creatures-of-habit.html' title='Creatures of Habit'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6875812598499498877</id><published>2009-01-20T19:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T18:54:28.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day of Days</title><content type='html'>My observations about our 44&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; President. More to come I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am happy that Barack Obama has not been assassinated. I pray he dies an old man many many years from now and gets to see his lovely daughters have children of their own. Like every man, he deserves it. I'd say he deserves it more than me because of the risk he is taking for the common good. I look at our greatest presidents, the brave ones, the barrier breakers, the ones who really made positive change in our nation. That same energy draws evil to it and they are far too often shot at and often hit. Obama is SO positive for this nation, for the world in fact, that I am scared SH!&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tless&lt;/span&gt; for his safety. With the nation and the world in the shape it is in right now, if he is killed, I fear the worst for not just America, but for the human race. THE HUMAN RACE. I'd take a bullet for the man. I have never said that about someone I don't know personally.&lt;br /&gt;2. I watched NBC. In this day and age, the ALL the technology, what a crappy job they did. Lack of sound feeds, poor editing. For a network that did so much to help Obama (subtle ways mind you, but I feel they did). MAN what a crap job of bringing us the day.&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; Speech... well, what can I say, the bar was set so very high...&lt;br /&gt;Out of any other president in my life time I would have said "oh hells yeah". I think the victory speech on election night was much better.&lt;br /&gt;I really would have liked for him to say. Fine, I am a black man. Whatever, I am just the right guy at the right time. This should have happened long ago because slavery should not have happened etc etc etc. Great, whatever... you know what, good for America for making this change and thanks to all African Americans who had to suffer and beat on that glass ceiling (that honestly looks like an Arctic ice shelf with a few holes poked here and there... and i mean like, every few miles here and there) over and over to make this even possible. That aspect needs to keep improving. Then I really wanted him to Really get impassioned and hammer home the green revolution of making new jobs that ultimately get us off oil. And I wanted him to say this more definitively all the other things that got him elected. And I wanted him MOST of all, to tell the American Public that they are lazy and we have to really kick in gear and fix this. We must be accountable for everything we do, each person should strive to do better. With the lines about responsibility, he did it... but in a vague and flowery way. He could have pressed the issue harder. He is an icon, he has emotional capital to spend. I wanted to see him become a peaceful warrior, a drill Sargent of sorts for the boot camp of the American public. Obama more than any other president in my memory would get the response of "SIR YES SIR!" to demands made of it. 300 million people doing a little better each day is a huge thing. It could be personal health, it could be driving less, anything... But when Obama sat back down I didn't feel a call to arms to do much different than I do now. And sure, my goals are aligned with his... But I wanted this speech to drive it home somehow. Because if he really made me think again with his speech then I would know that he might have also really swayed republicans with his speech.&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe our 44&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; is taking a page out of the 26&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th's&lt;/span&gt; play book... today he walked softly. And upon hearing the words a few more times. Perhaps I must say, Obama is not soft... rather he is a professional political boxer. He has not tried to deliver any knock out blows too early in his opening rounds. But he did land scoring punches in every place that he needed to without opening himself up to a counter punch of any significance... well played sir, well played.&lt;br /&gt;Now as for the senate and house that needs to fall in line with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; views... the battle of attrition has already begun. Cheney is in a wheel chair (funny and appropriate) not that I wish ill health on people but I really have nothing nice to say about the man apart from personal matters. And in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; corner, Byrd and Teddy Kennedy BOTH could not make it through lunch, LUNCH. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;. I have no doubt what so ever that both Teddy and Rob have nothing but love for their country and support for our new president. But, you know what, the country needs men and women of youth and vigor to deal with the nations challenges. Hell, my kid is 11 and she is doing things on an I touch that I have no clue about. And I am 32. The men in power.... yes, years and years of experience... but the world... I feel it is changing at a rate never before seen. Lets look back... combustion engine. 100+ years ago now it is possible to sail England to the US in a few weeks, MUCH faster than wind. Then we build rail ways. Things across the nation in a week or so. Lets invent the telephone also 100+ years ago. A message around the world from one person to another in less than a minute. However, getting that message to more than that one person could take some time. Now, entire videos with audio, things that happened minutes ago. can be transmitted anywhere in the world without bias or editing, instantly, but this time around... TO EVERYONE ( now this is truly about 2 years old..). Now the question is not who sends the message, BUT can we trust the message sent? At any rate. within the next ten years anything will be seen live anywhere in the world by anyone if it is deemed relevant. In fact I propose that in a decade a group called the department of relevancy will be more important than any national security unit of government. At any rate, I love change, I love this nation. The future is scary exciting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;challenging&lt;/span&gt; and amazing. And I wonder if I will ever feel so Alive ever again. This could be our time. Our grand fathers fought world war two with new bullets, tanks, planes and Atom Bombs. Perhaps we fight a war of truth this time... there are no regiments, there are no artillery shells. We might fight this war from from comfort of our living rooms. Our weapons are a key board and a connection to a global interface none could have imagined 50 years ago. And so it goes. We bunker down in our living rooms and make claims. Then we kiss our children and loved ones emerging from our bunkers to fight... But in this war, death is not apparent. You can get yourself AND your family killed and not find out until years later. You can go home every day and hug your family, but every next day you had better be ready to fight. Welcome to the global economy and all the trappings that come with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Namaste&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6875812598499498877?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6875812598499498877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6875812598499498877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6875812598499498877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6875812598499498877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/day-of-days.html' title='Day of Days'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-7655197123781594097</id><published>2009-01-17T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T12:14:00.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things We Take For Granite.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SXIgQy3_FzI/AAAAAAAAACA/hCqEBb0GS6c/s1600-h/granite.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292327985020344114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SXIgQy3_FzI/AAAAAAAAACA/hCqEBb0GS6c/s400/granite.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, Yes indeed, someone wrote that on their wall on facebook in reference to something or other that was important to them. And no, this person was not making a joke. They meant the thing that is written to say, things we take for &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;GRANTED&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is a good one right there... Much better than a "&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;moot&lt;/span&gt;" point vs. a "&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;mute&lt;/span&gt;" point. That one runs rampant through Engineering types in the south. It always made me giggle first then be depressed for that fool with a 4 year degree yet apparently no command at all over the English language.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will say no more about the "&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;Granite&lt;/span&gt;" person other than to say I have known them since I was 5 and leave it at that. And, this does not surprise me in the least. Said individual had also recently joined the facebook group "keep God in Schools ". This starts me on a very sad path of discourse. I estimate that for every 50 or 60 christian idiots I can show you 1 smart one. I used to think that the number was something like 2 billion to 1. Having a few christian Friends has changed that for me. They do worship God as best I can tell. It is important to them and it is not lip service. Their actions seem to reflect this daily, yet they somehow live and function as normal people and can relate to us heathens. Which is a very important part of Christianity I think, spreading the word by being with all people in an inclusive manner. The more commonly practiced method is that of exclusion and fear (hell fire etc). Why the carrot of heaven and the stick of hell. My christian friends are like, "hey, here is a carrot, when are we hanging out next?" They don't try to force religion down my throat.  If they are worried about my immortal soul they might pray for it behind my back, if they do, that is very sweet of them, but they certainly don't confront me with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know even more idiots who just claim to be christian because they haul themselves to church once a week and think little else about it as if Jesus Christ is some sort of weekly errand that must be done. "OOOP! It's Sunday, I'm fresh out of the Lord, gotta stop by for some more." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any rate, these christian friends of mine are SMART, they understand the importance of separation of Church and state, and they want to see this nation move forward. It is lamentable that Religion is holding us back politically as a nation. Freedom of religion is an awesome thing, but it must be balanced perfectly with indivdual rights. If only my smart christian friends could some how infect the dumb ones with a "wake the hell up!" virus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As Americans our freedom is not something we should take for &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;GRANITE&lt;/span&gt;. Um... well cause unless it is just a little tiny piece of it, that shit is heavy. And I wouldn't want to carry it very far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-7655197123781594097?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7655197123781594097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=7655197123781594097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7655197123781594097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7655197123781594097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-we-take-for-granite.html' title='Things We Take For Granite.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SXIgQy3_FzI/AAAAAAAAACA/hCqEBb0GS6c/s72-c/granite.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-1444135938557062421</id><published>2009-01-14T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T12:47:05.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The love virus</title><content type='html'>No not the high 5. Something useful. I watched a show on National G that revolved around the concept that &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;viruses&lt;/span&gt; drive evolution and all sorts of things. It makes sense, I buy into it. It also explains all of the "junk code" in DNA... Well, that is crap I think, scientists are calling it junk because they don't know what the hell it does or what the hell it once did. So, anyway, they had these two strains of prairie vol. One type was known to be monogamous, the other type was known to spread his seed far and wide. They took one of these "&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;playa&lt;/span&gt;" vols and injected him with this virus found in the monogamous species. The little pimp turned into a home loving man ( or little furry thing, whatever). Simply amazing! Everyone releases chemicals into their own blood stream during sexy time. There were 3 specific ones named. One is responsible for pair bonding, AKA love. &lt;a href="http://www.oxytocin.org/oxytoc/"&gt;Oxytocin&lt;/a&gt;??? Which is the same stuff that causes labor. At any rate, the playa vol released it but without that virus the chemicals were not reacting in the brain and changing behavior, the virus acts as a catalyst.&lt;br /&gt;There have been a small handful of women that I have been absolutely &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;addicted&lt;/span&gt; to. I would never in a million years have thought of cheating on them, and when we parted, for whatever reason, I was seriously messed up. But with all other women, it's been fine, even some that dump me. I have been like... enh... ok, next.&lt;br /&gt;Put the TV show together with what I just wrote about and it brings all sorts of questions up.&lt;br /&gt;1. Was I infected?&lt;br /&gt;2. Who carried it?&lt;br /&gt;3. Am I now immune?&lt;br /&gt;4. Will I need a booster shot?&lt;br /&gt;5. Do I want a booster shot?&lt;br /&gt;6. Can I keep myself single by using &lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;disinfecting&lt;/span&gt; wipes consistently?&lt;br /&gt;7. Am I a carrier?&lt;br /&gt;8. Can I spread it to others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, the &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;bug... literally, that may be what it is. At any rate, I hope to god that if I come down with love again it does not end in a train wreck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-1444135938557062421?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1444135938557062421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=1444135938557062421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1444135938557062421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1444135938557062421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-virus.html' title='The love virus'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-5341012516403309621</id><published>2009-01-13T23:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T00:09:41.168-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy day... new thought at long last</title><content type='html'>I spent the day doing that which I do best. My job. Meeting with Clients, guiding races to follow the proper path, both physically and metaphorically. I want them to grow, physically, metaphorically, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;financially&lt;/span&gt;. My company is not a Rem&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ora&lt;/span&gt; eel, it is yeast. We provide the catalyst to make the bread rise. That is yet another thing I love about my job. Sure, I live pretty much pay check to paycheck, but in the last two years I have served as a lightning rod for charitable contributions that total well over a quarter of a million dollars. I get this lovely warm feeling inside from that. No other job I have had since I have graduated has given me that specific feeling that I was a vital link in an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;endeavor&lt;/span&gt; that served to provide me a means of living while giving back more than that to causes and communities. My first job out of school was working for a fiber optic cable company... I said to myself and my ex wife, Oh, I am working on a product to make the world closer... My ex horse laughed me. And well, she was a bitch most of the time, but in this instance, maybe she was right. Corning was making money hand over fist. I made a living and supported my wife, who did not have to "work"(not to discount what goes into raising a child) and supported my young child... other than that... I can't see the higher cause now that I look back on it. My next "real job" was working for a company that sold custom printing press products... well, turns out that most of what we sold went into mass produced packaging that turns to waste products after consumption. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; Lame, and completely against what I love and believe in. So now, I am thankful daily for what I do. I work in a business that I was first passionate about because it was my hobby. And now I make that experience happen for my clients while helping organizations raise money for good causes.&lt;br /&gt;Man I am digressing something awful tonight. Well, It is late, I am tired. At any rate the next blog will revolve around love, evolution and the role that viruses play in that. I just watched a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;fascinating&lt;/span&gt; show on national geographic about how it is now being theorized that viruses have created evolution, child birth, the emotion of love.... So many amazing things. Anyway it is going to be a massive discourse of and on thought. stay turned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-5341012516403309621?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5341012516403309621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=5341012516403309621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5341012516403309621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5341012516403309621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/busy-day-new-thought-at-long-last.html' title='Busy day... new thought at long last'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-7954206067748356457</id><published>2009-01-09T08:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T08:39:27.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No, I am fresh out of Moderate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SWd7wMzwJHI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rr9ygTETEa0/s1600-h/IMG_0491.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289332355372164210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SWd7wMzwJHI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rr9ygTETEa0/s400/IMG_0491.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is a lie actually, I have never had any moderate that I can think of. It started with my mom suggesting that I could grab the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bissell&lt;/span&gt; and clean the carpet in my bedroom. Unfortunately the Condos have to have carpet in the bedrooms. The rest of my place is a neat sweep and mop affair. Even during the cleaning, I knew what was happening. My "office" would be moved to the other side of my bedroom and switch place with my bikes. That much made sense. I like the new layout. But by moving a few things it set off the avalanche. ALSO, with clean carpet comes clean responsibilities. Thus I had to get the floor in all other parts of the house clean or else what is the point of having really clean carpet, I'll just track crap back onto it from within the house. So I did the full &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;monty&lt;/span&gt; on the rest of the house including moving all of the furniture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;. I stayed up until 3am doing "stuff" this included a midnight run to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt; to grab hangers and storage bins. It is killing me to stop and blog right now. During this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;multiday&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;exercise&lt;/span&gt; I do take little breaks to have a laugh... all I can say is damn I'm Weird (reference above picture I took while waiting for carpet to dry). I am going to go run right now, then go back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt;, get more organizing crap and then keep going. Luckily nothing is pressing in the office at the moment. And this thing that I have started will be finished before I hit the road next week. But it will literally be 48 hours worth of work to get everything "just so". I sometimes wonder why I don't just keep things in order over time. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; let things go all to hell and sweep in with a fury and fix everything. I used to say, I'll work on that in the future... but I never do. Now I just wonder about it rather than make promises to myself that I won't keep. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;temet&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;nosce&lt;/span&gt;. I think I am doing better there these days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-7954206067748356457?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7954206067748356457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=7954206067748356457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7954206067748356457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7954206067748356457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-i-am-fresh-out-of-moderate.html' title='No, I am fresh out of Moderate'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SWd7wMzwJHI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rr9ygTETEa0/s72-c/IMG_0491.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-6691427579880241737</id><published>2009-01-01T10:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T11:08:10.147-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beard Watch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SV0NLBuaAQI/AAAAAAAAAAs/nKyb6S3AtzY/s1600-h/IMG_0461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286396020695630082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SV0NLBuaAQI/AAAAAAAAAAs/nKyb6S3AtzY/s200/IMG_0461.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have never REALLY really let my facial hair become silly long. It's winter, what the Heck. BUT I must say that making yet another resolution to not cut it till my birthday is quite a tall order. I hope it starts to get less itchy. The other thing is... how does one deal with the in between period when you can't push the stash to the sides yet... I already trimmed it at the lip line once. That was before i decided to give this thing free reign over my face. I promise that there will be no other crazy resolutions for this year. Other than get in shape as I was in 2006. That is the tallest order of all considering my core still aches a bit. I am clearing myself to start road biking now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-6691427579880241737?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/6691427579880241737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=6691427579880241737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6691427579880241737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/6691427579880241737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2009/01/beard-watch.html' title='Beard Watch'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SV0NLBuaAQI/AAAAAAAAAAs/nKyb6S3AtzY/s72-c/IMG_0461.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-7049417341661535743</id><published>2008-12-31T23:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T00:10:30.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy ending.</title><content type='html'>No, it's not that kind of happy ending.  I went to see Donna the Buffalo at the &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Orange Peel &lt;/span&gt; I had first planned on drinking up to midnight and cutting it off.  As it just happened, they had Cold Mountain Winter Ale from Highland Brewing Company on tap.  This is my favorite beer of all time.  And if I am not going to drink for an entire year... that should be the way it ends, not at the hands of a double shot of vodka.  My best Buddy Dan insisted that he pay for it.  I toasted with some of my Brothers from the Jack of the Wood Futball Club, I savored the taste, and drank it slow.  I also enjoyed having my wits all about me for the evening.  I think I can make this sober thing work to my advantage even when I am out.  There is a difference between acting drunk and being drunk.  It's really something. Well, one night down many to go.  But no hang over for this little boy in the morning.  Definitely happy about that.  In other news, right before last call Dan, Clay and myself were definitely hit on by strippers.  They had to be strippers, I'd put money on it... um, so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;   Finally, one note on how the universe speaks to you. Donna The Buffalo opened with a song called Movin' On.  Of all the songs they have, they open with that.  Movin' on... it's what I am doing.  I have gotten past some negative feelings associated with the past, I am really focused for 2009 and I will become a better version of myself.  The Song has a few lines in it "but drinking don't seem to work like it used to, and a freshness is what we need."  It does not seem to work like it used to for me... I think I am going to get my head out of this fog I have created for myself and see what is out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.uulyrics.com/music/donna-the-buffalo/song-movin-on/"&gt;http://www.uulyrics.com/music/donna-the-buffalo/song-movin-on/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-7049417341661535743?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7049417341661535743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=7049417341661535743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7049417341661535743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7049417341661535743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-ending.html' title='Happy ending.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4809845768786815988</id><published>2008-12-31T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T12:37:02.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Dry i am.</title><content type='html'>I am making this announcement publicly here.  Calling myself to the carpet and making this official.  I resolve to &lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;not drink&lt;/span&gt; in 2009.  One notable exception, a glass of Wine with Dinner if and only if everyone else is doing it and it would be totally awkward to not have one in front of me.  Right now, this is easy, very easy to manage.  Monday night, a few too many.  Felt kinda ok in the morning.  Then Last night, Sam's Birthday.  A few more too many.  Got up in the morning, considered a boot.  Couldn't quite make it happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;feel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;poisoned.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;   Rode my bike down to Moe's to get a Homewrecker and Queso.  Food usually fixes my hangovers, and Burritos or "babies" as I like to call them and my ace in the hole when it comes to hangovers.  Alas! I could only eat half of what I ordered.  I bagged it up to go and rode home utterly defeated but at least basically blown homeward by the strongest north winds I have seen around here in months.  I'll eat the rest before I head down town to see Donna the Buffalo.&lt;br /&gt;      I had planned on Taking my last drink before midnight, you know, get a good little buzz going and then rock out and sober up after midnight... but I'll just go ahead and make it a year and a day.  This makes my last drink a doozey.  Sam poured up a double shot of Vodka.  Like &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;regular old vodka&lt;/span&gt;, not even &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;fancy pants vodka&lt;/span&gt;.  After a nice gag face and slobber mouth, I washed my mouth out with water.  Damn that stuff is good... Water, i mean gotta love it.  It's basically free, it keeps you alive and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;    Not to put any Pressure on the guy, but Dan Cannon said he is going to stop drinking too.  I think we BOTH think, yeah right I'll believe THAT when I see it.&lt;br /&gt;I am planning on being really productive and super healthy in 2009. And there is one other thing.  The money, I mean ho- li- crap. holicrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A typical -oh group week in the life of Doug Methvin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, Quizo. a few pitchers at $10 each with the Discount and then usually a high end scotch or two.  THEN on occasion another bar depending on what is going on.  bare minimum, $40.00 on Monday night just to the drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, sometimes nothing... sometimes a few depending on whatever. Lets say $10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday.  Boy's night and sometimes 80's night.  $12 bottle of wine and then pbr or makers at Broadways.  Lets average that part to $10 a week.  So $22 on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday. No weekly plan but Surely we can average $5 per week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday.  NOTHING, it's typically the day before a race and I have to have my shiite together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, It's After a race and time to celebrate.  Lets give it $15 on average... and that is probably a conservative number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, it's after a soccer match and we go to the pub. Also easily $15 on average.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can easily see $107 a week.  5 grand a year? 5? 50 Benjamins?  damn.  I could think of some cool stuff to do or buy with 5K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.  And anyway, I always liked doing extreme stuff.  Just going way out there to an extreme and seeing what it's like "out there".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I throw caution to the wind here on this last day of 2008 when it's gusting up to 60 miles an hour.  How very appropriate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4809845768786815988?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4809845768786815988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4809845768786815988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4809845768786815988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4809845768786815988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-dry-i-am.html' title='How Dry i am.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4794461969238112621</id><published>2008-12-15T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T15:03:09.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If the shoe fits take it off and wing it at an idiot.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SUbhkg_c6FI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Mk3GIIt17Uw/s1600-h/bush.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280155630586095698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SUbhkg_c6FI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Mk3GIIt17Uw/s200/bush.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish that guy had a whole JC Penny stock room worth of them, he really was a decent shot. Both on the mark and Bush had to move each time. I bet Carter, Ronnie and Bush Senior would have been nailed. Clinton probably could have dodged both shoes I think. See, the question for all these others is hypothetical because none of them would have had a shoe winged at them in a press conference in the first place. Shoes, fairly safe, it's like a snow ball fight, so mainly its funny and sad... This presidency... please let it end. How many days till we get rid of the worst president ever. Can you fathom another president who could have had a shoe thrown at him and it have not been an insult to the American public? Its a perfect commentary on Bush as he leaves office. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uIj0YvDBKE"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uIj0YvDBKE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4794461969238112621?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4794461969238112621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4794461969238112621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4794461969238112621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4794461969238112621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/if-shoe-fits-take-it-off-and-wing-it-at.html' title='If the shoe fits take it off and wing it at an idiot.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SUbhkg_c6FI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Mk3GIIt17Uw/s72-c/bush.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-451102096467217682</id><published>2008-12-05T06:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T06:49:48.538-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart Sarah Silverman.</title><content type='html'>what more can i say?  She is perfect at what she does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/b8cfd60edd/sarah-silverman-on-the-night-of-too-many-stars-from-notms-and-sarah-silverman"&gt;http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/b8cfd60edd/sarah-silverman-on-the-night-of-too-many-stars-from-notms-and-sarah-silverman&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-451102096467217682?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/451102096467217682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=451102096467217682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/451102096467217682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/451102096467217682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-heart-sarah-silverman.html' title='I heart Sarah Silverman.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-5461258523285637674</id><published>2008-12-03T15:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T15:23:08.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Call me Hansel</title><content type='html'>With what I assume is my last soccer match of the season behind me I can finally stop and heal.  The back half of 2008 was great fun.  The only bad thing about it was the persistent injury.  The core muscles just kept giving out.  Train a bit, fall apart, stop.  The last two months saw one effort a week.  Show up on Sunday and gut it out for 90 minutes on the pitch.  By the end of the season I felt slow, fat, weak and clumsy from the lack of practice.  I have figured out that it will take a full month of inactivity in terms of running and soccer to heal this thing up.  And even then I will have to come back smart to make it work.  I hate injury.  I will be really careful about how I come back around to proper shape... Maybe start biking a few weeks from now.  Till then I am just going to sit around and get fat.  And that is fun really.  It's just part of the plan.  HOPEFULLY, in 3 months time I will be rocking alongside Stewart Moran and some of those guys on their easy runs as I whip myself back into form.  In 4 months, maybe some track workouts as well.  I want to do it all.  And If I am smart about it, and a little lucky, I think I can.&lt;br /&gt;Till then... In the words of Fat Albert.  "Hey hey hey!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-5461258523285637674?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5461258523285637674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=5461258523285637674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5461258523285637674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5461258523285637674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/12/call-me-hansel.html' title='Call me Hansel'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4028209297929826800</id><published>2008-10-07T09:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T10:14:12.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard data.</title><content type='html'>Well, the first 5k I have run in nearly two years has happened. the last time I laced um up I ran a 17:05 at the 2006 turkey trot, the race before that was a 16:16 out in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bryson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; city on the fourth of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;July&lt;/span&gt; that year. For somebody who professes to be good at 5K I sure as hell do waste a lot of time training for longer races... (I do love my shut in and running relays though....) Anyway, I need to get from 6:15 per mile to 5:15 per mile and then start true speed work.  On paper, it seems &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; easy, just change that 6 to a 5... done.  I know better, there are miles of trials and trials of miles aplenty between here and there.  Amongst my relay running brethren... um and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sistren&lt;/span&gt; when you add Amber Moran who just raced 10 miles at 6 minute per mile pace... the difference between 6:15 and 5:15 pace on a 5K goes from, "&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;aw how cute&lt;/span&gt;", to,"&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;respect&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I must say, for a starting point, I am perfectly happy with a 19:19 on a 5k. Especially one I gave no special training consideration to in terms of resting my body or anything like that. Honestly, I will continue on like that until I feel like I have a shot at breaking 16 minutes. Just find a race and go run the damn thing. I will say that after a 5k on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt;, and a full 90 minutes on the pitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt;, I know better than to waste time at the hill repeats tonight. Instead, I will lazily ride my bike up to craggy and take pictures of leaves and other pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;shiite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I will let the blood flow gently through my legs and cleanse all the built up crud from the weekends efforts while I burn a few calories in the quest to be rid of every single ounce of me that I don't need when it comes to showing most of the world a clean pair of heels.&lt;br /&gt;To that end... I close this post. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Perhaps&lt;/span&gt; I'll add a pic from the day. tonight when I get home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4028209297929826800?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4028209297929826800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4028209297929826800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4028209297929826800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4028209297929826800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/10/hard-data.html' title='Hard data.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-1231363591577188229</id><published>2008-10-02T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T08:45:20.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's doable...</title><content type='html'>After running a Blue ridge relay where I put forth as much effort as I could given my limited fitness I have begun to actually start down the road to get some (fitness)  Drinking less.  Staying out too late less.  Running an average of once a day or better. All the little things that require nothing more than the will to do them (or not do them as it were).  The cold front that blew in makes running fast much more feasible. My ab muscles still hurt most of the time and that is bothersome, But apart from simple discomfort It is not stopping me from running.  I'll just tough it out and see what happens.  I think I have a focus race coming up.  I'd like very much to go to Uhwarrie and run the 8 miler to see where I am fitness wise.  It is in February and that will give me time to train properly.  It blows my mind how I let myself get out of shape.  I love the feeling, why would I not stay there?  I averaged an abysmal 7:35 per mile for the blue ridge relay.  In 2006 I could have taken those same legs (hills and all) and run 6:00 per mile or just under it.  Just a month later I am ready to run those same legs  in 7:00 pace.  That's nice but I want the whole thing back asap.  Weight loss is not happening quite as fast as I'd like.  Turns out I have LOTS of fat hiding on me and I needed to build up more running muscle.  It won't be as simple as, drop weight and then you are ready to run.  It's more like, whip the mule and have it push away from the feeding trough as well.  I don't care if I look gaunt when it's all done,  I'll work on adding muscle after I get down to race weight.&lt;br /&gt;One other thing that I am going to have to do is break out the spread sheet o' pain.  Basically I will lay out a weekly time target for running.  It must be hit properly.  If I miss a run then other runs get longer and weekly running distances and times are achieved.&lt;br /&gt;I have been talking about this crap for months and done precious little about it.  Time to go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-1231363591577188229?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1231363591577188229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=1231363591577188229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1231363591577188229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1231363591577188229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-doable.html' title='It&apos;s doable...'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-8119649035207713393</id><published>2008-09-01T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T14:48:17.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy and stuff</title><content type='html'>I am working on a wonderful blog posting I promise.  There is just a bunch of stuff stewing in my head right now.  I'm getting ready to taper up for Blue Ridge Relay... GO MAGGOTS!!!! and I am getting pretty pumped about it.  In the next few days this blog idea will have cooked itself properly and come out of the scary oven that is my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-8119649035207713393?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8119649035207713393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=8119649035207713393' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8119649035207713393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8119649035207713393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/09/busy-and-stuff.html' title='Busy and stuff'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-5456280561081331816</id><published>2008-08-19T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T08:35:10.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slack Blogger</title><content type='html'>I was called out on my total lack of new material.  I suppose I had it coming.  It's been hectic.  But the main issue here is a lack of structure.  I thrive under it.  I need it.  One of the pitfalls of owning one's own business is that you can do what you want whenever you want.  That is until you are up against a hard and fast deadline.  And so I play and play, stay out late, act a fool, muddle through the next day and don't get much done, go to bed early that night, play catchup all the next day with the business, then blow it out again that night and repeat the cycle.  I am forcing myself into some structure now to make me function better.  I am now making punch lists for the day.  Today's list included post a friggen blog.  There, done and &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;done&lt;/span&gt;. Now on to my other things on the list. (near the end of that list is... take some time to try and remember something noteworthy to blog about from the last two months)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-5456280561081331816?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5456280561081331816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=5456280561081331816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5456280561081331816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5456280561081331816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/08/slack-blogger.html' title='Slack Blogger'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4283214379033830151</id><published>2008-06-17T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T14:45:23.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The most Bachelorly thing I have EVER done</title><content type='html'>Without a doubt, happened on Sunday, I was fairly sure that I had folks coming over and my place was a wreck. The fall out of a very busy few weeks, a lot of out on the road, come home, drop stuff everywhere... Papers all over. Clothes in heaps, etc. I picked things up and found the floor a mess. I was running out of time. I had to go play soccer soon and then there was a fathers day dinner to be had right after. A stroke of genius hits. I open every window and door, and grab my shop vac, and proceed to Hook the nozzle to the exhaust. I then use it like a leaf blower to clear all the dirt and whatever on the tile and wood floors out of the doors. It worked like a charm. Got under the couch, in hard corners, everywhere really And I could use the force of the air to dust off shelves and tables while I was at it. And then with one last Alamo sort of pile of dust bunnies, sand, and god knows what, I attached the vac end to it's proper outlet and picked up the small remaining pile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have now told on myself... it's funny. Why not share right?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am also actually going somewhere with this. Even as I did this most unorthodox method of house cleaning I was very mindful of the most important analogy that was present.&lt;br /&gt;When you go to "clean up your life", "do personal housekeeping" whatever you want to call it, be wary of cleaning the same way every time. It's Like Brushing without flossing. Or Brushing with a bad pattern and totally missing spots. Then decay can set in. Or those little corners and spots in your house that sweeping does not get... or under the couch. Dirt doesn't just stay in one place. A little breeze can push it out from under those hidden spots. You could have just mopped, and then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bam&lt;/span&gt;, there it is back out in plain sight, with more still lurking out of sight.&lt;br /&gt;   I think this tells me as a person to switch it up from time to time.  Don't Always do things the same way over and over again.  People hate/are scared of change in general.  Anything that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;interupts&lt;/span&gt; their regular day is typically viewed as an annoyance.  But without change there is no progress.  We have to do things differently as people and as a society. Use a leaf blower to clean your house, Elect a colored man the leader of the free world, talk to someone you don't know when out in public, just be aware that the possibilities in this world are limitless.  Every day you go through doing exactly the same things you have done the day before is an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;opportunity&lt;/span&gt; lost.  Do it different tomorrow, do it better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4283214379033830151?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4283214379033830151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4283214379033830151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4283214379033830151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4283214379033830151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/most-bachelorly-thing-i-have-ever-done.html' title='The most Bachelorly thing I have EVER done'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-7936891048547998025</id><published>2008-06-17T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T08:48:58.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mess with the Bull...</title><content type='html'>And we all know what happens. &lt;br /&gt;    I was having a wonderful morning.  After a chaotic Monday Which ended with Jane Carter dropping me at my house (THANKS JANE!), me deciding I was hungry, eating, and promptly passing out rather than running back downtown in the middle of the night with my bike key to unchain and then ride my Bike Back home.  I awoke this morning to a nice cool dry breezy day and ran first to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Biltmore&lt;/span&gt; Village to deposit my Stimulus check, and then on to the downtown &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BBT&lt;/span&gt; to deposit a check for my business.  I was happy to note that I ran a route I had taken a few weeks back a full minute faster.  I then trotted on down Patton Avenue over to Jack of the wood to liberate my commuter which was none the worse for wear after a night out on the town so to speak.  I was eager to head home and take a few minutes to update my blog and knock out a few business items while I wait for some equipment that I ordered for my business to be delivered to me.  It's heavy and I must be home to get it.  That lovely breeze today is from the north and that is a joy when riding homeward.  I scream down &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Asheland&lt;/span&gt; Avenue with the wind to my back.  I also manage to hit the light and the bottom of the hill where it becomes McDowell.  Signs ahead claimed that the right hand lanes were to be closed and only one lane was going to be there for south bound traffic.  Cars were backed up for roughly 200 yards trying to merge over into the turn lane as both normal south bound lanes were closed.  Of Course, on my bike, with all of that speed from the wind and the hill, roughly 40 miles an hour, can see that I have room to proceed unhindered past all of this.  And to boot I caught the green light that kept my momentum going on up the hill heading into the tunnel.  I could feel the ire of a few drivers as they finally caught me as I lumbered up the hill heading into the tunnel.  As if I had somehow wronged them by being able to continue forward while they sat in traffic.&lt;br /&gt;  You know, If I had a nickel for every time a car passed me WHILE in my lane rather than moving to another lane (if a 5 lane road) or not waiting for proper passing zone on a two lane road... OR the WORST of All, passing ME on a two lane road while a car is oncoming in the other lane thus making us 3 wide on a two lane road. &lt;br /&gt;   So anyway, there are those few rare times when traffic is snarled and a biker actually makes better pace than a car.   This was one of them.   I had made my way into the middle of the tunnel and I could hear a large construction truck, one with a flat bed and one solid body coming up behind me.  I could also tell It was in my lane and despite the loud diesel engine I could discern that there were other cars in that surge of traffic.  I could tell I wasn't going to like this.  So I got as far over to the curb as possible in a dark tunnel and gripped the handle bars and waited for it to pass.  The Driver of the Truck thought it a lovely idea to Blow the horn when he was right by me in the tunnel.  Now, Mind you, this was at the crest of the hill, the wind is at my back, and my Adrenal Glands just dumped about a weeks worth of freak out juice into my fragile little mind.  I screamed at the TOP of my Lungs. "&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;M#$@$R F#$@*R&lt;/span&gt;" Jumped out of the saddle and proceeded to immediately use the Wind, Hill and raw aggression to get back to 40 miles an hour and chase down the truck.  Almost at the bottom of the Hill, just past &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; High, Yet another construction delay has the cars pinched to the left lane and waiting for a signal to go.  AH!!! my sweet reward!!  I get to face the cowardly &lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;A$$hole&lt;/span&gt; who from the safety of his automobile wants to be a jerk, but now, he is caught!  I slide past a few cars, swing out to the drivers side of the truck, hop off my bike reach up to the cab and poke my hand in the window and yell at the top of my lungs all at once in order to give him the same shock that blowing a horn in the tunnel gave me.  After the scream I follow with, "What the hell is your problem buddy?"   The driver, of course, was a nasty older redneck (probably 45 but looked like 60) with a medium sized pot belly and a beard down to his man tits.  Typically when you confront someone like this they either just roll the window up scared and wait to get going again, or they fire back with words.  He does, I invite him to get his fat ass out of the truck and explain himself.  Mind you, there are cars behind us and we are on McDowell at the lower edge of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; high.  Before he climbs down out of the truck he reaches under the seat for something.  At first I worry about a gun and I am fully ready to dart behind the truck for cover.  Instead, he hops out wielding an &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;AXE&lt;/span&gt;.  NO kidding, an axe with about a 2.5 foot handle.  The crazy bastard takes a few swings at me, but it's kinda heavy and I don't even have to let go of my bike to dodge the guy.  And honestly, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;coulda&lt;/span&gt; kicked the thing out of his hands after a swing, but it just didn't make any good sense.  So after a few swipes and me telling the guy he is really brave going after a guy in running shorts holding a bike and nothing else with an &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;AXE&lt;/span&gt;.  I decide it's time to hop on the bike and just keep heading home.  The road construction guy stopping traffic a little further down the hill saw it happen and just had this look on his face that I would pay money to see again.  As I rode by I just shook my head and said to him.  "Crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;F'in&lt;/span&gt; redneck huh?"  Of course, I did need to look behind me to see which way this guy was going now that he and his Axe were back in the truck and make sure he wasn't going to use either of those things to come after me.  He didn't, he turned onto Meadow road instead of coming to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;biltmore&lt;/span&gt; village proper. Probably on some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;vague&lt;/span&gt; level it dawning on him that he had just tried to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;assault&lt;/span&gt; me and could go to jail if I wanted to track the guy down.  I am not going to try to find him, I didn't get the plates, it all happened pretty fast and I am not injured so what ever.&lt;br /&gt;     In conclusion, I'd just like to reiterate the name of my blog.  Yet another one of those things that is now on my life list that you couldn't even script if you were a gifted writer of fiction.&lt;br /&gt;June 17&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;... 2008, approx. 10:15am, had an Axe swung at me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-7936891048547998025?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7936891048547998025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=7936891048547998025' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7936891048547998025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7936891048547998025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/mess-with-bull.html' title='Mess with the Bull...'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-2557733871723299748</id><published>2008-06-04T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T10:14:54.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The habit has stuck</title><content type='html'>9 days deep into running or at least running after a ball every day for an hour and I can't not do it. I have lots of work in the office, but I left it for an hour over in &lt;a href="http://www.mtbikewnc.com/trailheads/bentcreek.html"&gt;bent creek&lt;/a&gt;. Sheer joy! I run it, they bike it... I quit you mountain biking, Just like zippers and lesbians, I quit you.  After the run I had a sit in Bent Creek for about 10 minutes.... So good for the legs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-2557733871723299748?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2557733871723299748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=2557733871723299748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2557733871723299748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2557733871723299748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/06/habit-has-stuck.html' title='The habit has stuck'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-1022972241087056856</id><published>2008-05-30T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T15:36:27.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sweaty bastard</title><content type='html'>As with everyone, the more out of shape I get the more I sweat.  It is a VERY good thing that I have never been over 200 pounds.  I'd probably sweat profusely while typing at room temperature.  Today I ran from 5 to 6 oclock.  Not the peak heat of the day, but by far the hottest of the 4 runs I have completed yet.  Just for giggles I checked my weight before and after.  I sweated out &lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;4.5 pounds&lt;/span&gt;.  That is a little over half a gallon for those of you keeping score at home.  That in Just an hour and 8 minutes.  I ran from home and took a check for my business to the BBand T atm downtown, a hilly hot, and apparently horny run, as I was told on the way back that I had a nice ass by a girl sitting in a car.  Which brings up an interesting point.  This little fitness experiment of mine will have some decidedly negative effects.  That ass will shrink by a good bit, my mom will resume telling me that I look like I have &lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;AIDS&lt;/span&gt;.  And by and large I will become less attractive to ladies in general.  At face value, you HAVE to question why I would do this.  The only valid answer to it would be, Become me, and you would know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-1022972241087056856?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1022972241087056856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=1022972241087056856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1022972241087056856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1022972241087056856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/sweaty-bastard.html' title='sweaty bastard'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-5895688692953911057</id><published>2008-05-29T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T20:25:43.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gutting it out.</title><content type='html'>Busy with work, and busy acting silly at boys night carried over to 80's night at Broadway's.  This made for a late (but VERY fun) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt; night followed by a full day of work and family.  After dropping Abby back off at her mom's I at 9:00 tonight or just after I finally found the time to get my run in... But I DID get it in.  This the &lt;em&gt;required&lt;/em&gt; mentality. The run happens, barring a severe lightning storm, you just go do it.  Period.  The legs are of course rather like jello... Well jello if you shot it.  3 hours in 3 days, nearly a marathon worth of running coming back more or less cold turkey, and your muscles (or lack thereof) simply won't like it.  But the mind is stronger, basically just sends a message back to your legs, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;quitcha&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bitchin&lt;/span&gt;"  this won't stop, but it will get easier as you harden back up.  Gliding alongside beaver lake in the dark was nice.  Just a quick tour of the north side of town, over to Charlotte street and back up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Merrimon&lt;/span&gt; to bring it back to the truck parked over near the dam.  Good cool running weather.  Sometimes you have things to think about when you run and it's good.  This time my brain was forced to be on all day, so I spaced out on this run instead.  Honestly, I could tell you where I went, but I can't tell you a single thought I had during a 1:03:04 trot.  And that is nice too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-5895688692953911057?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5895688692953911057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=5895688692953911057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5895688692953911057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5895688692953911057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/gutting-it-out.html' title='Gutting it out.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-2416375350375491140</id><published>2008-05-27T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T08:49:09.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something clicked</title><content type='html'>I can't tell you what happened, when it happened precisely, or even Why it happened.  I guess I was just growing tired of not feeling the true joy of running.  I have a million reasons pounding against the wall of my brain saying run Run RUN! But I just wouldn't do it.  This morning, I DID. a pleasant hour long trot through biltmore forest... It didn't really hurt, it was still coolish but warm enough to get a good sweat going.  The Locusts are out en Masse back there right now.  Their dull roar seemed to cheer me on.  I know enough about running to know that tomorrow, that one hour run won't feel quite as good.  And then on Thursday I very well might consider breaking it into 2 30 minute runs.  But the point is... They will happen.  I am NOT going to NOT run for a great long time now.  I need it for me. Soccer has kept me in Good enough fitness to not make this re-entry to running miserable.  It HAS been in the past.  So, for the next few weeks, before the outdoor 8V8 season fires up, I will slim down, speed up and get sharp both physically and mentally.  I look forward to it.  On the way back from Biltmore Forest there is a long store front with glass all down the face of it.  Back in 2006 when I was running 60-90 miles a week I'd check my form and make sure I was doing ok... Today I glanced in the glass and did in fact see decent form (for me anyways) but who was doing it was this guy with a big old ghetto booty and some beefy arse thighs and bit of a belly on him.  I totally giggled at myself.  I could see that sleek rail thin runner peek out from behind the 18 pounds of fat that are needlessly on me right now and point and laugh a bit...  Fair enough, fair enough.  The beer and late night snacks were worth it in my opinion.  At any rate, I'll be tracking this things progress over on the side bar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-2416375350375491140?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/2416375350375491140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=2416375350375491140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2416375350375491140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/2416375350375491140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/something-clicked.html' title='Something clicked'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-7828448850105950563</id><published>2008-05-26T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T08:16:59.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What it is and is not about.</title><content type='html'>Personal growth is something that I have long held 2 differing models for. One is a fairly random pattern of flat spots followed by a sudden stair step or two... sometimes more. The other not so &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rosy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; but probably more accurate model is one that actually goes down on occasion, yes generally it trends upward, but it experiences set backs, corrections, and other variations that can snow ball if you don't stay on top of it. I think I can honestly say that over the last 2.5 years or so, I think my own trend line of personal growth could be shown to illustrate that second model. I had a lengthy conversation recently with a really intelligent friend of mine who I have always admired for clarity of vision and logic. Recently this person has screwed up in their personal life, and we began the chat with that and it's ramifications. This was followed by a discussion at large of how people work, and more importantly, how they DON'T work. And It's funny, while this persons life is Actively &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;f'd&lt;/span&gt; up right now, I realized some things about my self that were festering hangovers of my inability to let things go. I realized my faults, the very things that hold me back, were tied directly to my ego. I did a quick search for "&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;g&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;p&lt;/span&gt;i&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;g" &lt;/span&gt;tonight and came up with the following that I found most relevant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A regarding of oneself with undue favor.&lt;br /&gt;Behavior or activities undertaken mainly out of vanity or for self-gratification.&lt;br /&gt;The undertaking of acts to increase your own power and influence or to draw attention to your own importance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like at this time to propose a concept that is a slight play on words, and a new way to interpret ego tripping. And Maybe Flaming lips does hint at this in the song Ego Tripping at the gates of Hell... but I'd like to draw a very hard line at the word Trip and suggest that we use the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;stumbly&lt;/span&gt;-bloody knee-twisted ankle version of trip rather than the Power Trip kind of Trip, and then associate that awkward clumsy trip with the Ego.&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, I came to the conclusion that it isn't all about me. I am no damn where near as important as i thought i was. I have self high self esteem and all that good stuff, maybe too much for my own good. I'd take the actions of others as a personal affront of some kind. It all started back in 2006 with an ex girl fiend (who i cared for very much and was very serious about) cheating on me. Much of the anger, and the bad feelings I had came from an ego trip. Sure, it's natural to be upset when something like that happens. But you have to process that stuff and move on with the absolute truth that you are who you are, no more no less. If something doesn't work out with you and another person, with you and a job you wanted, with you and any external factor in your world for that matter, you simply have to learn any lesson that may be there for the learning and then understand that the reason it didn't work was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; plus this other thing. Your only two options at that point are to:&lt;br /&gt;1.Delude yourself, claim you are perfect, and place blame on everything but yourself. (harboring anger in the process) Or,&lt;br /&gt;2. Come to the conclusion that you did what you did, and this is what the real world outside of your mind dealt you in return. (and at that point truly let it go)&lt;br /&gt;It does tend to sting when you give you best effort and the result is still unfavorable. But I think I needed to learn to treat it no different than if you half &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;assed&lt;/span&gt; something and that didn't work out either. Either way those were my actions, I was being me and this is what came of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At any rate, I had this conversation a little over a week ago and it's effects are both far reaching and ongoing in my own mind. I am finding all manner of things both great and small to let go of and my little chart has&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; jumped&lt;/span&gt; up as my soul seems to be a little more sure footed.  I see it's fruits almost daily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-7828448850105950563?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/7828448850105950563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=7828448850105950563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7828448850105950563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/7828448850105950563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-it-is-and-is-not-about.html' title='What it is and is not about.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-3433837654495273319</id><published>2008-05-20T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T06:54:31.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Down with the sickness</title><content type='html'>I don't get sick, It just doesn't happen.  The only thing I can figure is it came from trying to do too much.  It's true I worked my butt off last week.  I actually skipped quizzo.  That simply is not like me.  I did sit at the computer and get a lot of work done, and I need to.  This 6 week period starting May 3rd to June 7th is my busiest of the year.  In that span I produce 3 triathlons, (lotta work) time 5 running races (six if you count one that is a 10K and 5K together) AND help at two of my buddies Triathlons.  During the Front half of that I was playing both indoor and outdoor soccer.  (but that was a nice release for me) &lt;br /&gt;   So, as I sit here and OD on immodium. I'd like to propose the concept that I was not burning the candle at both ends so much as I simply threw the F'in thing in the microwave and put it on high for 99 minutes and 99 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;(somebody try this sometime and let me know what happens).&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, there is light at the end of the tunnel... the &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;money&lt;/span&gt; from all of these efforts is starting to come in. And it's a good thing because the bidness was getting stretched financially.  And then, in early June, I am working a race for someone else here in town... SOOO relaxing.  And then on the weekend of the 28th I am simply... off.  What a concept. That hasn't happened since march 22nd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-3433837654495273319?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/3433837654495273319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=3433837654495273319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/3433837654495273319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/3433837654495273319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/down-with-sickness.html' title='Down with the sickness'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-8466924555355617164</id><published>2008-05-07T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T09:32:36.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I mentioned that I have re-fallen in love with football?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It is just &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197672048359314338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SCHXMIVvE6I/AAAAAAAAAAU/WhI5htIKcTQ/s200/%239+for+jack+of+the+wood.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; very odd that I went &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;10 years&lt;/span&gt; without playing&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; soccer&lt;/span&gt;.  Why? I was good at it, why would I just up and quit?  It is a physical and mental challenge.  It's full of do or die moments... unlike running or triathlon where you just plod forward and cover ground.  You don't trick anybody in a 5k. Not really... there are a few times where you can put in surges, or choose to sit behind someone and let them work... but it's not the same as nutmegging someone, or playing a perfect through ball while you are looking the other way to sell it to the defense.   And then there is scoring a goal... it's like a giant finish line popped up all of a sudden in front of you.  Completely unscripted! You rarely know that you are going to score even 5 seconds before you actually do.  And who doesn't love surprises like that.  Happy to be back on the pitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-8466924555355617164?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/8466924555355617164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=8466924555355617164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8466924555355617164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/8466924555355617164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/have-i-mentioned-that-i-have-re-fallen.html' title='Have I mentioned that I have re-fallen in love with football?'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SCHXMIVvE6I/AAAAAAAAAAU/WhI5htIKcTQ/s72-c/%239+for+jack+of+the+wood.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-4668859655864814347</id><published>2008-05-07T08:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T09:19:01.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The more you know the less you do.</title><content type='html'>A few nights ago, Clayton (my soccer buddy) and I were trying to analyze this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bizarre&lt;/span&gt; text I got from a woman who in a rather long winded way told me she wasn't interested in dating me. And that is fine, except I never asked her out and didn't even have a game plan to speak of for such a thing. After a few rather pointless hypotheses, we just came to the conclusion that if we knew what women do and why they do it, we could become exorbitantly rich by selling this knowledge to other men. We also concluded that each &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;subsequent&lt;/span&gt; woman we interact with only seems to muddy the waters of understanding the "&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;fairer sex&lt;/span&gt;". When one takes a hard look at a new piece of data relating to a woman, they see that not only is it new, and totally different, but also totally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;incongruous&lt;/span&gt; with previous data. There is but one pattern that seems to hold. Stop paying a woman attention and you can easily get her interested in you. Sure it's a temporary effect but it is highly effective in the short term. I think quite a few men understand the "devil may care" approach to getting somewhere with a woman. But once we have made that first step... it's nearly impossible to predict what a woman may do next.&lt;br /&gt;Below is a great link to a stroll down memory lane... I think a lot of folks forget just how good the muppets were at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vvV9LjBsNw&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vvV9LjBsNw&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-4668859655864814347?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/4668859655864814347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=4668859655864814347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4668859655864814347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/4668859655864814347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/more-you-know-less-you-do.html' title='The more you know the less you do.'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-5452833941304624066</id><published>2008-05-03T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T21:20:27.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>spring has sprung, but I didn't touch anything...</title><content type='html'>Apparently there are females that are friends &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;OF&lt;/span&gt; friends of mine who are looking for "&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt; a hot guy who is nice&lt;/span&gt;".  And these friends, who are indeed wonderful friends of mine, simply don't understand the severe degree to which I have the abilty to just come across as brash, disinterested, or desperate based on my complete and utter lack of need to play "the game".  (I instead just choose to say EXACTLY what is on my mind) These friends only see that nice silly fun Doug... Blind dates are ESPECIALLY hazardous.  It's great though, I have been through enough life, and spent enough time being "&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;" to know that my bizzarre personality will more than likely run them all off screaming.  So at least I will be entertained for the next little while... I know that is cynical, but hey...  So, tonight, I am going to say in and out of trouble for the most part.  Busy day for me tomorrow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-5452833941304624066?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/5452833941304624066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=5452833941304624066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5452833941304624066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/5452833941304624066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/05/spring-has-sprung-but-i-didnt-touch.html' title='spring has sprung, but I didn&apos;t touch anything...'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-915767145261148336</id><published>2008-04-28T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T06:59:29.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the mend</title><content type='html'>I am glad that I am such a fast healer.  All of that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;HGH&lt;/span&gt; and stuff that I am taking has that side effect I guess.  My face is basically a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chewty&lt;/span&gt; factory right now (rather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;obscure&lt;/span&gt; but VERY gross Wonder &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Showzen&lt;/span&gt; reference).  At any rate it is nice to chew food again.  I feel verbally constipated... as in... there are plenty of things I COULD write about in great detail and length, but alas none of them need to show up for all to see.  So I'll close it down, bottle it up, set it aside, put it away, etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-915767145261148336?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/915767145261148336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=915767145261148336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/915767145261148336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/915767145261148336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-mend.html' title='On the mend'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-1141467690013541945</id><published>2008-04-23T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T19:19:51.198-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ah the joys of bike riding...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SA_tB7_TgZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/A18minuaHZc/s1600-h/IMG_0268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192629512920334738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SA_tB7_TgZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/A18minuaHZc/s200/IMG_0268.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well it's been since 2005 since I laid it down... Iv'e seen some nasty wrecks in that time. Happy to say none of them were mine. I guess I was due. My face is "real purty". That and my wrist took the blow... no road rash on the legs arms or hips... really odd. It was this strange uphill crash, just wandered off the edge of the parkway while taking in the view... pretty lame, but if this is my one crash for the next 3 or 4 years... hey, I'll take it. All the joy that I have racked up in the last few years has been well worth it.    I started eating some small solid food today... that's good I figure in a weeks time it will be but a memory, roll by the store and get some vitamin E or something now that everything is solid.  It stinks that I didn't shave my face before the wreck... I am kinda stuck with it for a week or two.  I think I'll go out tomorrow night... most of the pain should be gone by then, and my face is a good convo starter...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-1141467690013541945?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/1141467690013541945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=1141467690013541945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1141467690013541945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/1141467690013541945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/04/ah-joys-of-bike-riding.html' title='ah the joys of bike riding...'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SA_tB7_TgZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/A18minuaHZc/s72-c/IMG_0268.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7165779535011402643.post-759204432771734636</id><published>2008-04-21T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T13:11:10.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not the worst Idea ever... but one of it's neighbors for sure</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, here I am, blogging... at last, April 2008. I think I HEARD the word blog some odd 4 or 5 years ago but was too lazy to go investigate the details of the thing. Then, oh, perhaps a few years ago I wrapped my mind around the idea and mused... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. But then, once again didn't do a thing about it. What nudged me? Other friends doing it mainly, I like the concept of leaving mental bread crumb trails everywhere for folks to follow as they do. Clearly, if my mind was bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I would eat it because I love bread, and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am pretty sure it would be marbleized &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;rye&lt;/span&gt; and dark &lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;pumpernickel&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress, and this is the first of perhaps thousands of those. In spoken word I digress like it is my job. This makes some people love to hear me tell a story, and others, it simply annoys to no end, and yet with others, it depends on the story being told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The topic of this post is perhaps obvious to any who know me. I have no filter between my brain and my mouth, and my brain is a very strange place... it's fun, i love it, but it's not for general audiences by any means. The good part about what comes out of the mouth is that... if it isn't being recorded by anyone, then it very often dries up and leaves no trace much like a light shower on a warm spring afternoon. The WRITTEN word is problematic. I have used email in particular to have very deep conversations with friends of mine that have challenged me to think things out to a fuller extent and grow as a person. I have also done some lovely turns of phrase with a few special women in my life. Things I seriously doubt I could have said on the fly and with such a level of quality and feeling. The other edge of that sword is of course the negative. I can write the most scathing, belittling, air tight arguments for a given persons stupidity or lack of what ever have you that it has really placed me in a bad spot at times after I unload on someone in a work environment. I very well could have yelled those exact things at a person over the phone and been none the worse for it... but here instead is this perfectly crafted email of shame and hate for all the world to see.&lt;br /&gt;Thus, with the ideas that I own my own business, and this blog is public domain, I should be a bit careful about what I write. I am the face of my business and my business IS me... I'll write later about the brave new world of working for yourself, it's fascinating to me. But, this is enough for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One real time update to close with. Tonight is Jane Carter's Birthday at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;quizzo&lt;/span&gt;. If it's anything like mine was, she'd better bring or buy a hat and hold the F$^% onto it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7165779535011402643-759204432771734636?l=ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/feeds/759204432771734636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7165779535011402643&amp;postID=759204432771734636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/759204432771734636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7165779535011402643/posts/default/759204432771734636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ivejuststoppedbeingsurprisedanymore.blogspot.com/2008/04/not-worst-idea-ever-but-one-of-its.html' title='Not the worst Idea ever... but one of it&apos;s neighbors for sure'/><author><name>Doug</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17508637541146807554</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tgeK5WKTXWc/SW-idCT9FlI/AAAAAAAAABo/gnF7xz_JLzU/S220/so+soo+niice.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
