My mom gave birth to my younger sister at home. I watched. I was 2.

For some reason that I still don't understand, my mom thought it was important that I know the proper terminology for everything I was going to see. Several months later we were in line at a McDonald's when an obese woman walked in. I loudly announced: "I BET THAT LADY HAS A BIG VAGINA."

My mother was absolutely mortified.

My dog has a FB page

He has friends in Philly and Chicago that don't see him any more so he posts what he does during the day, where I took him, when he gets a new toy or destroys something in the house.

All his friends enjoy keeping up to date with his activities

when i was in junior high

someone took an extra wide marks-a-lot and wrote "dawn grainger has hairy armpits" on one of the bleachers in the gym. it had apparently been there for several years before i arrived as ms. grainger had long since left the hallowed halls of our fine institution.

several years later, during my high school years, i was at a party. my sister was back from college and she was there, too. my sister was standing there talking to a dark-haired lass i had never seen before. i went up to say hello. it went a little something like this:

me: hey
sister: hey. *turns to brunette*. this is my brother. *turns to me* this is dawn.
brunette: hey. what year are you?
me: junior.
brunette: oh, you probably know my brother mark.
me: mark...
brunette: grainger.
me: oh, sure, mark grainger.

let me stop for a moment to talk about what a wonderful thing the human brain is. it's capable of storing and processing massive amounts of information.

me: so you're dawn....dawn grainger...

let me stop for a moment to talk about what a terrible thing the human brain is. it's capable of storing and processing massive amounts of information.

me: dawn grainger has hairy armpits?
brunette: #### you. *turns and leaves*

poor dawn. that little piece of graffiti had probably tormented her most of her adolescent life. she had finally graduated and left town for college. she was once again just "dawn grainger" and no longer "dawn grainger has hairy armpits". here i was reminding her that her and her hairy armpits would forever be burned into the brain of every person that passed through that junior high.

poor, poor, dawn.

(while this story is true, the names have been changed to protect the hairy)

I locked myself inside the house.

First of all, you need one of those big janitor key rings to live here. There's a lock on everything and they're all keyed differently. But that's another story.

Anyway, I came home, unlocked the front door, and closed it (the locks are keyed inside and out). And I grabbed the things I needed and prepared to head back out...but where are my keys? They're not in my pocket, not in my back pack, not on the counter. Oh shit, they're in the door...outside.

There is a drawer with a bunch of other keys in it (of course), but none of them will unlock the front or back door. Should I call my wife to come home from work to let me out of the house? Should I call the landlord? Should I knock on my own door as someone walks by to let me out of the house?

Then I turn the knob.

Guh.

Back when I was in the 4th grade, I wanted to be a botanist when I grew up.....

I don't think I knew the word "botanist" but I knew that I liked to grow things in my little corner of mom and dad's big garden. Part of my fascination with gardening came from my parents, but a big part of it came from my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Komarek. I was fascinated by her, and we shared a love of gardening.

At the beginning of the school year, she had on her desk, a weird seed that I had never seen before.



She explained that it was an avocado seed and that, over time, it would grow into a big tree. I immediately knew that I had to have one, so I begged mom to pick one up at the store. Of course, they didn't have avocados at the Philo Eisner so I had to wait until mom had a reason to go uptown to Champaign. Mom couldn't see buying something just for the seed, so she made me try the avocado itself. 35 years later, I still won't eat them.

On my first attempt, the seed got all moldy before it ever cracked open. But I tried again, and it finally worked. Avocado growing definitely takes a lot of patience.



I grew my avocado for months, but I don't think it ever got big enough to transplant to soil. During the summer after 4th grade, without Mrs. Komarek's encouragement, I let the plant die. I'm not sure if Mrs. Komarek came back the next school year or not, but I never remember talking to her after that. I was probably too embarrassed to tell her that my plant had died. My last contact with her was this letter that I received that summer.




I just decided that I'm going to buy an avocado soon. And I'm going to grow it into a tree in honor of Mrs. Komarek.

dumbass =======>

When I got home from work, my wife asked me if I'd go put gas in her car while she made dinner. She has to go to a meeting tonight and her car is near Empty. Of course, I said yes. I went down to the gas station, topped it off, stopped by the bank and came back home.

My wife just called me from Champaign, saying that she was almost out of gas, and wondered if I forgot to put gas in her car. I said "Of course I put it in! I did that and then went to the bank." She sounded doubtful, and I had to try to convince her that I did do it.

Then, it dawned on me. I actually took my van and put gas in it instead. :wall

She said "You're such a dumbass. I mean that in a good way."

FYI

I just had me some birfday xes.

Boo to the Yah.

Teh bonerz are in full effect since I got off the crazy meds. I think I may have gained an inch.
(EDIT: BTW, I got an awesome Illini mug for my birfday. It's prolly the coolest Illini mug ever made.)