Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Becca and I on our upcoming business trip

Possibly Fav. Photo Ever of Me & Matt

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Rudy!

Today I went to a meeting hosted by the CEO and he mentioned that 2 years ago Rudy Rudiger came to their office to give the employees a speech. I then thought of Steve talking about how that's all he's done with his life, followed by most of the men at 428 chanting "Rudy! Rudy! Rudy!" over and over again. Rudy Rudiger, if you are reading this blog, know this: you are the Person the World Needs Most.

Becca and Rachel Play Lexulous

List time

Rachel's list of...

People that are cooler than me


1. People who brew beer. Come on, who wouldn't want to work in the beer industry? Or the wine industry, for that matter. I'm sure there's a lot of hard chemistry and stuff, but I could learn that. I'm not sure how hard the recession is hitting the industry - I'm imagining that it's not affected, because everyone needs to drink in a recession.
1a. Homebrewers are even cooler, but I couldn't find a good enough picture representing them.


2. Bono. Duh, dude's a millionaire, and gets to bang whomever he wants (like Oprah, see above), and still helps the world and shiz. He's cooler than anyone I know.



3. Kitesurfers. I met some of these dudes in Puerto Rico and so maybe I'm romanticizing it, because they quit their jobs in a cold place and moved to paradise to do a cool and unique sport. But another cool thing about kitesurfing: unlike regular surfing, if there's a shark trying to bite you, maybe you can just jump out of the water and let your kite carry you to safety. Maybe.



4. Jillian Michaels. She's a hot bitch. I mean, I know this is the wrong blog to talk about all my health and fitness bullshit, but she used to weigh more than I do (and she's shorter), and look how cut she is! And she has a job being the trainer on Biggest Loser, which I'm sure is kind of awesome.



5. Seth Rogan. And any dude who is able to have a real bromance and be really funny (so, all the male writers on this blog). Because I want to know what that's like, and stuff.

Post idea: Make a list of your own!

Tall Love

+

=

tall dink love

Does Matt secretly play basketball for Siena?

I think he does. Ryan Rossiter, we know who you are.

Separation Anxiety

I don't know if anyone else has been in the position I was in on Tuesday. If you have, I tip my hat you. If you have not there is still a one in three chance that your ticking timebomb some call an "appendix" will one day too decide its time in your body is over and it wants to move on. To those lucky one third I dedicate this story.



Chapter 1: Appendix

It all started on Tuesday morning. I woke up with pains in my sides, which comparably felt on par with having cramps after heavy exercise. You know that feeling when you're out of breath because you've just gotten up from the couch, gone to the fridge to get another beer, then go back and sit down? Yeah, that kind of physical exhaustion. I went to an interview and charmed the pants off the marketing lady interviewing me (never had a pantsless interview before, but it was better than I thought). After the interview I was in more pain, but I decided that feasting on a buffalo chicken sub would clearly assist in my constipated feeling. Later that evening the pain persisted more strongly on my right side, my appetite diminished, and around midnight I decided my pain was rising faster than it should. I did not want to go to the hospital since I am uninsured, and had been since I quit working at Critical Logic, so heading to the hospital (or what now would be the ER at 1am would be quite costly) was not high on my list of immediate desires. We spent about an hour calling Devon and my parents until we realized that by some tiny tiny loophole I am still qualified for insurance through COBRA, and that I could potentially be insured before going into the ER. Word of the wise to anyone who has relative in latter timezones, it is AWESOME. While now in Troy it is 2am Wednesday in Alaska it is 10pm Tuesday, so while I was on my way to the ER my parents were on their way to the post office to timestamp my insurace renewal forms the day prior. Will this work.....? Who knows, but it's worth a shot.



Chapter 2: Hospital

We arrive at the ER and meet my nurse, who while very nice and funny, is quite incompetent. She left me in a room for about half an hour in pain, then came back in and pressed on my left side and asked if I was feeling pain on my right. I said I was to which she looked confused about. I told her that my right side DID hurt and that she was pressing on my left. After a moment of confusion, followed by a moment of embarassment the nurse went back to work pressing on my sore side and this time getting the desired expression of grimmace from my face. The next few hours went like this: Someone comes in and asks me the same 6 questions as the person before them then leaves for 45 minutes. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I think my favorite time was about 4:30 when I could not sit because I was sore, I was tired, and was in the most pain I had felt all day long...and then there were drugs. Sweet, sweet, painkilling drugs. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.................................................



Chapter 3: Appendectomy

I don't remember it, by this point I was on more drugs.



Chapter 4: Recovery

I woke up with a tan-gone-bad on my stomach, 3 holes, and apparently a body part missing. I was still sore, crazy tired, not wearing pants, but on the plus side I have the best bed in the best room on the whole floor. Corner room facing downtown Albany. The downside was my angry room mate who was growling at nurses and other staff all day/night long, and at 3am shit his bed. Literally shit his bed. Moral of this story: don't be angry or you will soil your pants. I spent a total of about 24 hours in that room in recovery eating food, watching shitty tv, listening to my room mate, and sleeping. It was enjoyable, but still being really sore was definitely a pain in the ass. I think that at least 3 dozen times I imagined Paul doing all the work that I was witnessing and I must say I'm impressed. I don't think I would have the patience to help the angry, crying, unhelpful, messy, old, etc. variety of patients that I saw with as much grace and compassion that I witnessed. Eventually though my doctor finally came and visited me (at 6am the next day) and said I was free to go. I was discharged at 11. Must give them credit for their swiftness...



Chapter 5: Aftermath


What can I say? I loves me my fruit flowers. Thanks Paul. Also thanks for everyone else that was concerned about my health.

The Anthology

I'm not joking when I say I want to put together an anthology of stories retelling my/our funniest and weirdest college experiences. I'm starting a list which you guys can edit and add to. Put your intials next to your entries. Or comment, whatever.

- The 428 Shit Party (RW)
- The time Liz, Becca, and I led a gang into C/M after we drank too much Mike's (purchased by Swift) during the Miss America pageant (RW)
- Seeing embarrassing hookups at the COG the morning after a party night. Or being with friends when they see their embarrassing hookups, and laughing. (RW)
- Naked snow woman (RW)
- Living with Old Man Tom (with Becca) (RW)
- The Case of Tooley and The Hopkins Chimney (PF)
- Forecast: Golden Showers (PF)
- George, Washington (PF)
- Paul's Graduation Party (Uncensored) (PF)
- Kent versus Christian (PF)
- Spokanicity v. VD (PF)
- Thanksgiving Junior Year (PF)
- Por qué, Pepé Lopez? ¡¿POR QUÉ!? (PF)
- YURT (PF)
- The Jill and Cory secret affair. (RJ)
- Scotty doesn't know. (RJ)
- Afternoon Delight (being played at Steve and Erin, and the 428 chorus singing it while artfully arranged along the stairs). (RJ)
- The "rape" of Molly? (RJ)
- Tooley getting his lost cellphone back from a bum in exchange for beer. (RJ)
- Can we write about Swift getting picked up for drunkenly riding a bicycle even if it didn't happen to us? (RJ)
- Hat, Mickey Mouse Gloves, & St. Patrick's Day (ST)
- Pants-less Halloween with Special Appearance by Fr. Krall (RJ)
- Miss Spokane Pageant (vodka cakes, hair-dying, and "Danny Boy" singing at the after party) (RJ)

the BIGGEST little school bus

Nutcracker Tomorrow!

Alright kids, we have 6 tickets for The Nutcracker tomorrow at 2. They're at will-call under my name, so either you have to come hang out with me before them, or go to the ticket counter place and convince them you are me. HaHA!

Should we all congregate somewhere before hand? I know we'd talked about having tea... I could whip up some cucumber sandwiches , crumpets, and tea cakes if anyone's interested. Matt and Tooley could also spike their tea. All just suggestions.

Also, tags are fun.

Dear Spokanicity,

We were asked to inform you that Paul Freeman has made a donation to Second Harvest Food Bank of the Inland Northwest in your name, using JustGive.org. You can be sure that this gift will have a valuable impact on the charity it supports and on the important cause it represents. Individuals do make a difference!

About Second Harvest Food Bank of the Inland Northwest:
Through empowerment, education and partnerships, Second Harvest Inland Northwest brings community resources together to feed people in need.

A Personal Message to You from Paul Freeman:
Members & Friends of Spokanicity: Not necessarily a tangible gift, but I have decided to give to charities as Christmas Presents. Merry Christmas Everyone!

Regards,
JustGive Team
http://www.justgive.org

Post-Graduation Wasteland: A Semi-Serious Post, for Once

Pre-requisite reading for this post: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quarter-life_crisis

In a matter of barely-even-months, three illustrious members of Spokanicity will be leaving us for greener pastures. Well, I'm not sure if Albany is greener, but it's certainly freakin' far away. Montana's Flathead Valley is a bit closer, but I won't be surprised if we don't see hide nor hair of Jesse around the Spo for awhile. And it's got me thinking about where *I'm* going to go next.

I have no freakin' clue.

I don't hate Spokane to the core of my being, like some of us might. It has it's meth-frosted charm, and if it comes down to it, I can imagine raising a family here. But it's not my heart's home... though I'm not even sure where that is yet. I daydream about making to move to Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, or Denver - but will I ever really do it? And when? It's a bit financially irresponsible for me to leave Spokietown right now, not to mention that I haven't even figured out what I want to DO. So I am here, for awhile. My social circle is dwindling, and I feel a bit of panic closing in, because of how hard it will be to find like-minded people in this post-graduate wasteland - the type of people who I like to knock back a few beers with (and sometimes have subsequent ridiculous dance parties) as well as pontificate on the meaning of life with. Wine-driven debauchery AND intelligent conversation: is that so much to ask? People like YOU GUYS! But not scattered across the country - here, with me, for now, in Spokane. Thank the Lord that Matt and Becca haven't flown the coop yet.

But, you know, it's not like I don't have ANY friends left in Spokane, and I have a good job, and some family close by, and blah blah blah. These are just strange days for us, and I've never been a big fan of the ch-ch-changes.

Be well, my friends.



And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
- from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," T. S. Eliot

Where is everybody?

Need a bed?

Hey kids! If you're coming up this weekend, I have a bed, a futon, and a mattress with sheets and blankets that can go on a floor that are up for grabs. Also, the love seat can be used as a sleeping device (a la Christian) if we need more room.

A Song for Craven

This is a song that Tooley wrote in approximately 3 minutes, 40 seconds. The title of this is "A Song for Craven", as a pun of the Headband album "A Song for Tooley".


A Song for Craven

Craven, how I love to see you smile.
To not have you as a friend would be a loss, you are anything but weak sauce.
You love beer and music (and so do I), together we drink and sing and they we cry.
I make fun but only in jest, but I think my words have made me a pest.
I work so hard to make you glad, but you say mean things which make me sad.
Oh Craven my remorse is so strong, that is why I wrote you this song.

(followed by several verses of me wailing "CRAVEN!!!" in a very Roxanne manner)