Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Only in the Bush

When I was three years old I saw God. It was no big deal. Mom said God was all around us and one day we'd see him in Heaven. I guess God couldn't wait that long and I got to see him in the park.

It was a bright day, no clouds in the sky, which I guess makes sense 'cause I'd always heard that God liked to travel on beams of light. Anyway, I was in the park playing in the sandbox. I was trying to dig my way to China, or maybe I was burying one of my sibling's toys. I don't really remember all of the details; like I said, I was three. So I was playing in the sand, minding my own business when God came out of nowhere. He picked me up and ran into the woods. I wasn't scared, though, because Mom always told me that God loves everyone, and that God especially loves me.

While he was running with me he said, "Don't worry, I'll see you again in ten years."

I wanted to ask him why he didn't have any clothes on, all of the pictures in our house had him in flowing robes and stuff, but before I could he threw me into a bush. I began crying and my mom heard me and came and found me. She asked why I'd wandered so far and why I was crying. I told her what happened but she didn't believe that it was God. I didn't understand why. She always told me that she believed in him.

When I was thirteen I saw God again. I was in the park with some of my friends. We were out in the trees. My friend Jimmy said he'd found a cool new thing to do. So a couple of us followed him and he showed us our first joint. At least it was the first one I'd ever seen. He showed us that you were supposed to smoke it, and he let us know that the coughing was actually a good thing. So he let us try it and we were coughing and complaining about how he'd just had to choose a place near a nest of skunks. He just told us that we'd begin to enjoy the smell after a while. Then all of my friends began to giggle and I couldn't tell what they were giggling about. Then I started laughing too, I made sure not to giggle like the other guys, though. Then all of a sudden some guy came and picked me up and ran off with me.

I looked at him and said, "You don't need to carry me you know, I can walk." I was glad that he had clothes on this time, but I thought the business suit looked a little wierd. He just smiled and kept on running.

"I'll see you again in ten years," he said.

Then he threw me into a bush again. It might have been the same one, I don't remember. It sure felt like the same bush.

"What a jerk," I said to myself.

Sometimes I talk to myself, like right now. Some people call me weird but I prefer unique. I decided I was gonna give him a piece of my mind the next time I saw him. I went to go find my friends and I told them what God just did to me. They just laughed at me, well, I laughed a little too. I was gonna have to ask my mom more about this whole joint thing, and especially why she'd never told me about it before. I figured she would like it too.

When I was twenty-three I saw God again. The park had been cemented over and turned into a shopping center. I was at the bar, having a good time at Jimmy's bachelor party. Drinking, strippers, it was turning out to be a lot of fun. My mom was so wrong about that. Well I went outside to smoke a cigarette. Before I could even light up, though, God had picked me up and ran off with me. I was fuming. It was time that I finally gave him a piece of my mind. Before I could, though, he spoke again.

"I'll see you again in ten years." Then he threw me into a bush again.

I saw him running off, all dressed like a cowboy and I yelled after him, "I'm gonna kick your ass the next time you throw me into a bush." It made me feel better to yell at God. Mom always said he worked in mysterious ways, but I thought that this was getting a little bit ridiculous.

Now I'm thirty-three. It's been ten years to the day since I last saw him. I found the bush he threw me into last time, and maybe both times before. I decided that rather than having him throw me into the bush that I would just wait for him there. He finally showed up and he didn't look very happy.

"What are you doing in that bush?" he asked.

"Well I figured you must've wanted me to be in this bush for some reason or another, plus it hurts whenever you throw me in, so I thought I'd save you the trouble. By the way, why are you all dressed like a Buddhist monk?"

"Get out of the Bush," he said. Mom taught me to obey God's commandments, at that had sure sounded like a command to me. As soon as I got out of that bush God picked me and ran around the block.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what?" God asked me right back.

"Why do you keep throwing me into this bush?" I asked.

"Because it's fun," God said and ran off.



I don't know why, but I thought it was kind of funny.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Spring Break

When I finished my bottle of Budweiser I let out a yell and rolled down my window so I could wait for my opportunity. It came in the form of a sign that said ‘Newport 7’. It was a perfect hit and my companions hooted and hollered as the noise of shattering glass faded and we flew forward without caring about a speed limit.

“Shit. We’re almost out of beer guys,” Simon said as he handed me another beer.

“Well we’re almost to Newport, so let’s finish what we’ve got and then we’ll pick up some more when we get there,” said Jake. “Hey, I’m sorry but what’s your name man?”

“Seth,” replied my good college buddy. We had stopped by Corvallis to pick him up earlier in the night. Jake, Simon and I had decided that on a road trip more meant merrier.

“Could you grab the wheel for a second?” Jake asked.

“Sure man,” said Seth.

He grabbed the wheel and Jake leaned out the driver’s side window. He threw his beer at a sign on the other side of the road and narrowly missed. But it didn’t matter because the bottle exploded when it collided with the ground. Simon and I began dancing in the ludicrously large back seat. I now understand why people would buy cars that people call boats. There is just something special about being able to dance in a car.

As we entered Newport Seth asked us, “So what am I picking up for you guys then?”

Jake and I started laughing. Jake said, “Actually all that you need to do is take over driving duties once we get to the store.”

Once we had parked in the Safeway parking lot Seth took Jake’s seat and us three (Madrasians, Madrasites, Madra- you know sometimes coming form a small town can be very confusing) entered the store. We walked around, seeing where the employees were in relation to the beer and the exit. We saw two people, one stocking the shelves and chatting with the other employee who didn’t seem to be doing anything productive at all. The beer was in the corner of the store that was the farthest away from the exit as possible.

“Okay guys are you ready?” Jake asked. Simon and I just nodded our heads and began to grab cases. Four cases each. One in each hand and one held above it by the crook of our arms. It took us about a minute to situate ourselves with twelve cases. Two hundred and eighty-eight beers can be a little bit tricky. “Let’s go then.” Jake broke into a run and Simon and I followed suit trailing closely behind our more athletic colleague.

Jake had made it out side and I had made it to the last check-stand before the door when suddenly one of the employees noticed what we were doing. “Hey, stop. This isn’t funny,” she yelled as the chase began. But it was too late. We had too large a head start and were able to jump into the car and yell, “Drive fucker,” before she had even made it out of the store.

“What the hell is that guys?” Seth asked as we began to speed northbound on the 101.

“That was not having to worry about running out of beer this weekend,” Jake said.

We stopped five miles down the road in a Kingdom Hall parking lot. Jake and I quickly transferred two cases worth of beer into our school bags for easy access for the rest of the trip. We would have one bag in front and one in back. Smoking cigarettes and drinking the plunder were the ways that we attempted to bring ourselves down from the adrenaline high. It didn’t work very well though. We threw our beers into the bushes, hopped into the car, and began to talk about what our next mischievous act would be on this cloudless evening.

“C’mon guys, what are we gonna do tonight?” Jake cracked his beer as he let out a yell. He then took a fresh beer from his bag and threw it under the rear right left wheel. It burst over the road like a sort of liquid grenade. It made Simon and I break into an awkward mosh to the sound of “You’re Only Going To Die For Your Arrogance”.

The car was bouncing around in a way that was testing its suspension when Simon hit me so hard that I actually fell over the front seat. Both Seth and Jake were given a hand to the back of the as my arms spread out in an effort to maintain my balance. As I realized what was happening I saw two beers fly towards the ceiling and begin to pour all over it. Then suddenly Jake’s head appeared and I saw him fumbling for what I assumed was his beer. He was raining expletives when he made a grab for the offending beverage as it easily rolled to his left and to the realm of safety. At this point I fell forward as I heard the sound of a one-ton car going through three inches of solid wood and a stop sign puncturing a hole in the roof of the car. As my face hit Seth’s feet I could hear the sound of metal bouncing along the road behind us. Jake could hear the sound of my feet hitting him in the back of the head. It seemed to knock him into taking action because he floored it as he fought to bring the road into his line of sight. One the car stopped bouncing me around I sat back upright. Between Seth and Jake. I put an arm around each of them.

“What do you guys say we drive twenty miles down the road to find a campsite? And then we’ll never speak of this horrid event ever again,” I said.

I then slid back over the seat and resumed my post behind Jake. I sat quietly sipping my beer until we reached the campsite.


Writing makes me happy.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Boring

So a week goes by and I wonder if anything has actually happened to me. I mean I've started a new job, but the new job is really just like all the other jobs. I went out with my friends drinking this weekend, and that was fun, but I went out drinking with them last weekend. I feel like I've hit an unending cycle that afflicts the young adults of America. Go to work at a boring job. Come home and try to stave off boredom until you go to sleep. Then you wake up and begin again. The weekends are only slightly different in that a person gets an extended period of play before work. I don't know why I never felt this way at school. It was really the same thing, but it still always felt like I was actually doing something. By the end of a term I had accomplished something. Now at the end of the term I just have to keep working while the students are taking a break. I honestly think that graduating from college may have been the worst thing to ever happen to me.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

Now I've Done It

So I finally did it. I created a blog. I've become a blogger. The words almost as much fun to type as it is to say. What a strange world we've become where we now actually have people making a living off of these things. Being let into legitimate press conferences so they can go home and create an entry for their blog.

So I'm starting a new job on Wednesday. Office job with Wells Fargo. It should be interesting. Well actually it will be unbearably boring, but that's alright. When I'm bored I just end up thinking a lot. And thinking is good, usually.

Anyway. I guess we'll see how much I end up posting on this thing. Eventually I'll maybe even figure out how to post pictures.