Back again. At least you didn't have to wait an entire month this time around, suprisingly enough. I'm not going to do so much of a recap tonight. Instead, I'm just going to ramble on about whatever I happen to be thinking.
I got back from a walk in Pioneer's Park less than an hour ago. It was almost 100 degrees outside, but I'm glad I went as I haven't been to the gym yet this week. (Although, generally speaking, I have been pretty good about hitting the gym a few mornings every week.) I brought my MP3 player with me. Man, do I love that thing. It's kind of amazing how music can change your perspective on everything. Depending on what's playing, you may find an extra spring in your step. . .or that you're plodding along in boots of lead. For instance, Guns'N'Roses' version of "Hair Of The Dog" makes me want to strut. When I hear it, my face reflexively takes on a smirk and I feel as though I can get away with pretty much anything. Likewise, when Cher songs such as "If I Could Turn Back Time" play over the company muzak system on a Monday morning, I feel sapped of my will to live.
This pondering has me wondering if some kind of perfect song exists out there in the ether. One that, when played, could elicit whatever emotions the player desired the audience to feel. Sort of a "Pied Piper Of Hamlin" effect. If I wasn't so lazy, I'd work on discovering such a tune. But don't worry; if I did find it, I'd only use my powers for good. :)
Really, though, I don't think I'm too terribly lazy. If I was, well, I'd have more time to write in this blog. Most of my evenings, I usually have something going on. Mondays are usually reserved for lifting weights and walking in the park. On Tuesday evening, I have bowling league with Mike, Tom, and Andrew (a really good time, I might add, but more on that later). Wednesdays are generally reserved for exercise and spending time with Angie. On Thursdays, I go watch Angie play sand volleyball at Spikes on a team with my friends Jen and Cam. Friday through Sunday are filled with the myriad things that always consume weekends.
This past weekend, though, was lovely in that nothing was going on. Angie and I spent most of Friday at the hospital awaiting news on her grandmother's surgery. (She took a fall and broke her leg, but the surgery went just fine.) On Saturday, though, we just took it easy, poking around the Nebraska Bookstore and then renting some movies later on. And I cooked dinner.
I wasn't joking, either. I did make our dinner, and it didn't turn out too bad. I followed a stirfry recipe that I found in Men's Fitness last month. It had a lot of ingredients. . .enough that I realized that I had forgotten a few crucial ones as I started preparing the meal. So, I made a frantic trip to the grocery store to pick up soy sauce. Later, I realized that I didn't have corn starch, but we simply did without because I was past the point of no return in terms of cooking the ingredients. It was pretty good, I thought, and neither of us got sick. So we'll count that as a cooking victory for me. I'll also add that up to that point, I had never cooked for anyone before. Nor did I ever feel compelled to do so, until Angie came along. Just thought I'd throw that out there. ;)
On Sunday afternoon, I went with the twins and Aubrie to visit their grandma in the hospital. It was good to visit her again, but I felt bad for her because she was clearly uncomfortable in the hospital. But seeing Aubrie sure did cheer her up. That's what the Aubrie Effect is all about, after all. Ha! Grandma Vera did remember me, too, for the most part, from our visit to her place in York a few months ago. She told me I was a very pretty young man. :) I think seeing her family did her a lot of good. I wish her a speedy recovery.
I've had a really bizarre dream a week or two ago that merits a mention here. I dreamed that I was in a sinking ship of some kind, or a room that was partially submerged, at any rate. There was a huge great white shark (think "Jaws") that was eating the people in the room, one by one. It was down to myself and a lady who I didn't know. It got a hold of her and started to pull her under. I told her to rip the shark's eye out. She did, but it still ended up eating her. Then it got a hold of me, so I killed it by reaching into its gills and tearing it apart, as one is wont to do when attacked by a great white shark.
I don't know why I end up fighting for my life in so many of my dreams. I guess that's the price you pay for a vivid imagination.
More recently, I dreamed that Bill Callahan hired me as part of his staff of assistants for the Huskers, and later, that I attended a Big XII coaches convention. This, of course, was undoubtedly born of my unconscious longing for the upcoming football season.
It's almost here! In about three weeks, the Huskers will play their first game of the season, against Louisiana Tech. I'm really optimistic about this season. We've got a good shot at winning the Big XII North, and, who knows, maybe even the whole conference. It has been a lot of fun reading up on the Huskers Illustrated Web site about the summer practices, recruiting efforts, etc. The departure of Harrison Beck and Zack Bowman's season-ending injury definitely stung, but we'll recover. Bowman will heal and be back next year (barring a departure for the NFL), and Beck is already to be replaced with a promising JUCO QB that was one of the Elite 11 back in 2004.
I could undoubtedly write a lot more about the college football season tonight, but I'm going to hold off before I get too carried away.
And now for some cool news about Dad. Somehow, this past weekend, he got roped into racing mini-trucks (like Rangers, S10s, etc. I think.) at the Jefferson County fairgrounds. And he won! Not that I'm surprised, mind you. Dad used to race a lot when he was in his 20's. Up until I was about 6, he had a really souped-up Mustang that he kept covered up in our machine shed, which was specifically a race car. Its roar could strike fear into the hearts of men. But I digress. Anyway, Dad was really humble in recounting the race to me, but he did mention that he only used his brakes once. ;) I wish I could've been there to see it.
Well, I think I'm going to cut this short tonight, as it's time for bed. I do have a lot of pictures I want to share, but they'll wait until next time. I'll leave you with a haiku.
Football season rules.
I adore the Cornhuskers.
Kansas State sucks a lot.
And now you know that. Stay classy, but above all, Keep Hope Alive.
Love,
Nate
I got back from a walk in Pioneer's Park less than an hour ago. It was almost 100 degrees outside, but I'm glad I went as I haven't been to the gym yet this week. (Although, generally speaking, I have been pretty good about hitting the gym a few mornings every week.) I brought my MP3 player with me. Man, do I love that thing. It's kind of amazing how music can change your perspective on everything. Depending on what's playing, you may find an extra spring in your step. . .or that you're plodding along in boots of lead. For instance, Guns'N'Roses' version of "Hair Of The Dog" makes me want to strut. When I hear it, my face reflexively takes on a smirk and I feel as though I can get away with pretty much anything. Likewise, when Cher songs such as "If I Could Turn Back Time" play over the company muzak system on a Monday morning, I feel sapped of my will to live.
This pondering has me wondering if some kind of perfect song exists out there in the ether. One that, when played, could elicit whatever emotions the player desired the audience to feel. Sort of a "Pied Piper Of Hamlin" effect. If I wasn't so lazy, I'd work on discovering such a tune. But don't worry; if I did find it, I'd only use my powers for good. :)
Really, though, I don't think I'm too terribly lazy. If I was, well, I'd have more time to write in this blog. Most of my evenings, I usually have something going on. Mondays are usually reserved for lifting weights and walking in the park. On Tuesday evening, I have bowling league with Mike, Tom, and Andrew (a really good time, I might add, but more on that later). Wednesdays are generally reserved for exercise and spending time with Angie. On Thursdays, I go watch Angie play sand volleyball at Spikes on a team with my friends Jen and Cam. Friday through Sunday are filled with the myriad things that always consume weekends.
This past weekend, though, was lovely in that nothing was going on. Angie and I spent most of Friday at the hospital awaiting news on her grandmother's surgery. (She took a fall and broke her leg, but the surgery went just fine.) On Saturday, though, we just took it easy, poking around the Nebraska Bookstore and then renting some movies later on. And I cooked dinner.
I wasn't joking, either. I did make our dinner, and it didn't turn out too bad. I followed a stirfry recipe that I found in Men's Fitness last month. It had a lot of ingredients. . .enough that I realized that I had forgotten a few crucial ones as I started preparing the meal. So, I made a frantic trip to the grocery store to pick up soy sauce. Later, I realized that I didn't have corn starch, but we simply did without because I was past the point of no return in terms of cooking the ingredients. It was pretty good, I thought, and neither of us got sick. So we'll count that as a cooking victory for me. I'll also add that up to that point, I had never cooked for anyone before. Nor did I ever feel compelled to do so, until Angie came along. Just thought I'd throw that out there. ;)
On Sunday afternoon, I went with the twins and Aubrie to visit their grandma in the hospital. It was good to visit her again, but I felt bad for her because she was clearly uncomfortable in the hospital. But seeing Aubrie sure did cheer her up. That's what the Aubrie Effect is all about, after all. Ha! Grandma Vera did remember me, too, for the most part, from our visit to her place in York a few months ago. She told me I was a very pretty young man. :) I think seeing her family did her a lot of good. I wish her a speedy recovery.
I've had a really bizarre dream a week or two ago that merits a mention here. I dreamed that I was in a sinking ship of some kind, or a room that was partially submerged, at any rate. There was a huge great white shark (think "Jaws") that was eating the people in the room, one by one. It was down to myself and a lady who I didn't know. It got a hold of her and started to pull her under. I told her to rip the shark's eye out. She did, but it still ended up eating her. Then it got a hold of me, so I killed it by reaching into its gills and tearing it apart, as one is wont to do when attacked by a great white shark.
I don't know why I end up fighting for my life in so many of my dreams. I guess that's the price you pay for a vivid imagination.
More recently, I dreamed that Bill Callahan hired me as part of his staff of assistants for the Huskers, and later, that I attended a Big XII coaches convention. This, of course, was undoubtedly born of my unconscious longing for the upcoming football season.
It's almost here! In about three weeks, the Huskers will play their first game of the season, against Louisiana Tech. I'm really optimistic about this season. We've got a good shot at winning the Big XII North, and, who knows, maybe even the whole conference. It has been a lot of fun reading up on the Huskers Illustrated Web site about the summer practices, recruiting efforts, etc. The departure of Harrison Beck and Zack Bowman's season-ending injury definitely stung, but we'll recover. Bowman will heal and be back next year (barring a departure for the NFL), and Beck is already to be replaced with a promising JUCO QB that was one of the Elite 11 back in 2004.
I could undoubtedly write a lot more about the college football season tonight, but I'm going to hold off before I get too carried away.
And now for some cool news about Dad. Somehow, this past weekend, he got roped into racing mini-trucks (like Rangers, S10s, etc. I think.) at the Jefferson County fairgrounds. And he won! Not that I'm surprised, mind you. Dad used to race a lot when he was in his 20's. Up until I was about 6, he had a really souped-up Mustang that he kept covered up in our machine shed, which was specifically a race car. Its roar could strike fear into the hearts of men. But I digress. Anyway, Dad was really humble in recounting the race to me, but he did mention that he only used his brakes once. ;) I wish I could've been there to see it.
Well, I think I'm going to cut this short tonight, as it's time for bed. I do have a lot of pictures I want to share, but they'll wait until next time. I'll leave you with a haiku.
Football season rules.
I adore the Cornhuskers.
Kansas State sucks a lot.
And now you know that. Stay classy, but above all, Keep Hope Alive.
Love,
Nate
posted by Nate | 6:41 PM
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