Monthly Archives: December 2011

Bode

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I am beyond blessed that my vacation back home was timed such that I get to house sit for a friend.

I get a warm, quiet house to sleep in, which is priceless with my parent’s house being full this time of year. I get a nice car to drive around, saving me hundreds of dollars on a car rental. I get to eat whatever food I find. It’s perfect.

But then there’s Bode. Bode is a boxer, just half of the dogs that I am watching in return for the wonderful benefits bestowed upon me and listed above. And don’t take this the wrong way, he’s not a bad dog, he’s not even hard to deal with. Both the dogs are very well mannered and a lot of fun. Just Bode has some particularities.

He likes sleeping in the bed with me. I’ve spent three nights here and for each night, I have a story.

The first night, Bode waited till I fell asleep to get in the bed with me. And then proceeded to sleep right in the middle of the bed. Bode’s not what you’d call a small dog, and while I’m a masculine guy, in the middle of the night isn’t when my muscles and brain are working at their best. Needless to say, I couldn’t dislodge the dog from the prime bed spot. I ended up sleeping in a narrow strip of a queen bed, only 2 inches from the edge.

The second night, Bode got into bed with me right away. I was able to position him off to one side, so we were splitting the bed in half. Everything was going well till about two thirty in the morning when I rolled over and head-butted Bode right in his head. It scared him and he ran out of the room and didn’t come back till it was time to wake up in the morning.

The third night, or as it’s commonly know in my memory as “Last night”, Bode opted out of sleeping in the same bed and instead slept somewhere else in the house. But when it was time to get up and let the dogs out and feed them, he hoped on the bed, and sat on me. Normally, I do enjoy having animals close to me, but when it’s a heavy dog that’s sitting on your back, and it’s five thirty in the morning, it’s less than enjoyable.

Another issue I have with Bode is that he’s a boxer. Boxers fart. Boxer farts stink. Boxer farts stink bad and will clear the room. In fact, I’m typing this as fast as I can so I can get out of the room.

Katia! Con Katia!

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24. She’s 24 now. I don’t remember when it started. I think it might have been when she was 16.

That’s what, 8 years? That’s eight Decembers that have had a McGrady party. Eight times I’ve prayed for, had cake with, and celebrated a good friend.

I remember the bowl of nacho cheese that she struggled to eat on a dare. I remember the times she would be leaving or just be coming back from changing lives over seas. I remember the times all her college friends came up. I remember the time she flaunted her beautiful bald head.

Decembers aren’t Decembers without three things. Christmas, New Years, and her birthday.

John Carter of Mars

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I was cruising around the interwebs sometime around Thanksgiving, and a trailer caught my attention (link). It had swords, giant aliens, and quite a bit of action. I thought that the name sounded familiar, and I really felt that it was based off some books. I looked it up on my kindle and saw that it was, but not only that, the books were old and free! So I spent money on a collection (a whole 99 cents) and started reading them.

And to my delight, I found them quite entertaining.

So far, I’ve read the first three books, A Princess of Mars, The Gods of Mars, The Warlord of Mars. The basic premise is this: A civil war vet named John Carter get transported to Mars and seems to fight with everything he finds. He makes friends and falls in love with the titular princess. He always seems to find himself fighting incredible odds, which have to be even more exaggerated since he is super strong. His Earth muscles give him super strength on Mars where there’s less gravity.

Like I said before, these books are quite entertaining. They are not award winners and I would actually probably define them as pulp fiction. John is a fully developed character that is incredibly moral and you’re just along for the ride as he gets into these crazy situations and adventures. You’re getting a sermon on how a man should act in a non-boring way. Real men never back down from a fight, they always fight for the woman they love, they don’t stand around and let injustice happen. John teaches those uncivilized people living in a hostile and unforgiving environment how to be civilized.

John himself doesn’t mature, doesn’t come to any realizations or revelations about himself – he doesn’t grow as a character.

Another interesting thing I really enjoyed about these books, was the fact that they are so old. The first book was written in 1917 and the way that Mars was envisioned as a dying planet with canals and life on it, reminds me of the hope and sense of adventure that was so definitive of early science fiction. Other science in the book is completely implausible and at sometimes laughable, but it never really detracts from the story.

Traveling Again

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I’m sitting in the airport alone. People are in groups. Talking, laughing, watching videos on their phones – all for my entertainment. I watch them, study how they look at each other, catching the little looks they give. It’s fun to sit next to a pretty girl and watch all the guys check her out. It’s predicable and quite funny.

I’m sure there’s only a few people in the world and I’ve seen all these ones before. They may have been wearing different clothes, in different groups, but I’m sure it’s the same 200  or so faces I’ve seen before. I wonder if the personalities are as limited.

The kids are entertaining too. They are on an adventure. Some are tired and cry, others are bored and whine for electronic entertainment, but my favorites are the ones running around playing. They just seem so intent on living in this place that is really just waiting.

This place is waiting. That’s all you do here. You wait. You wait to go through security, wait for the plane, wait for the plane to take off, wait for the flight to be over, wait to de-board. And after all that waiting, you’ve got to wait for your luggage.

I always expect to see someone I know. This is part to the fact that there are only 200 or so faces in the world. I would be the happiest person in the world if randomly I saw someone I know and they happend to be going to the same place I am, on the same flight. But I don’t see anyone I know, just those familiar faces. I feel like I should know them. Like that guy over there. Did I meet him at some event? Did I go to high school ten years ago with that woman there? Could that be a friend of a friend that I met once, a long, long time ago?