At my brother's request...

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the future top lawyers of America.

One of those days

Need to preface this post with the fact that I recognize there are many people out there that have had many bad days. There are friends out there right now who are in much worse places than me and this post is in no way, a comparison to some of the days you're having.

But today wasn't necessarily a bad day. It was a combination of the guy from Office Space who was just rolling with the punches, and a series of events that I cocked my head to the side and said to myself, "Huh... That didn't go as planned."

A few minor things happened in the morning but we're going to skip ahead to the new bane of my existence, ITunes one touch ordering. Most of the days, I admit, the ordering is completely by choice. I have no excuse for some of the music I've spent music on. Yes, your Honor, I did click the button. BUT, today, yes at work (I had a lunch meeting! I get make up time right?), I was looking through the catalogue for a long lost song (Eric Carmen, Make Me Lose Control, can't wait to hear what my brother Chris has to say about that one) and ended up in the movie section. Wanting more information about a movie, I clicked what I thought was the link to see more. Nope, all of a sudden, I see download start pop up. Huh... That's not right...WAIT! DAGNABIT!!! Cancel button! Cancel button! Hell any button! Yep, caps lock does nothing...

$14.99 later, I'm the proud owner of My Best Friend's Girl. Um, yea? But I smiled...

A few hours later, I walk into my boss's office and see some baked goods on her desk. I'm always up for finding a new tasty treat so I ask to take a look at the ingredients. What do you know? No eggs! No nuts! Jackpot! I turn to her, not in a cool, calm, or collected way. Nope, it was more of the way a five year old looks when their parent take the cookie out of the jar, places it on a napkin, and hands it down to them. Not exactly when it hits their hand, but that moment as the cookie is in the air. (Side story, can't wait to see this look on my own child's face... one day...) Quickly grabbing one of these tasty treats, I take a huge bite and think they're not half bad. Chatter back and forth soon followed that I have no recollection of because I was thinking, "Sweet! New treat to put on the list!". I left her office and finished. About five minutes later, I cocked my head to the side and thought, "Huh... This doesn't feel right." I could mentally picture the name of the item being crossed off the safe list as I could feel my mouth swelling and my teeth start to hurt. I go back to take another gander at the ingredients and they look safe. But sometimes that's just the thing. As best as people try, sometimes things get tossed around and something not Jeff friendly ends up in the wrong place.

This wasn't an epi-pen type of incident. There's a protocol for that if it were to happen at RIT.

But the Benedryl that I did take contributed to my next incident. I've started cooking more and tonight was a nice herb tilapia and salad. A few minutes after taking the Benedryl, I put the fish in. Well, the drugs take about 20 minutes to kick in and the fish was done in 15. Yep, didn't time this one out right. As I go to grab the pan, it slips and the fish falls to the bottom of the oven. Cue the freak out about the fire alarm going off. Thankfully it didn't but dinner was ruined. I put the pan, with the destroyed, unintentionally blackened fish, on top of the stove, cocked my head to the side, cracked a little smile, and thought, "Huh... That didn't go according to plan"

To be honest, I should have expected that last one. Same, exact thing happened the last time I tried to cook tilapia. I blame the drugs for clouding my memory. So maybe it did go according to plan? Third time will be the charm!

Thanks for reading...

My new desktop background

it's all about the lines in our lives

Didn't really see this theme until a few updates in but it can't be denied. We all cross some lines in our lives. Whether by tripping, pushed, or testing the other side, it's how we get back to the other side of the line that defines us. So with this, some updates:

• My dad is doing much better. The lines cut in his chest and arms are healing nicely. While a still a little sore, the whole family is happy to report that he's doing well.
  
• Just got back from a placement conference in my field. University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh hosts an an annual placement exchange in which a number of schools come together and interview a large number of candidates seeking a position in residence life. Year after year, schools try to one-up each other with the different swag or advertising idea. RIT came up with a pretty neat idea involving a grade school right of passage. Ever do those origami fortune tellers? For example, sometimes after asking a question, you pick a color and for each letter you fold the paper a certain amount of times, then picking a number, you fold it that number again, revealing your final choice of number. VOILA! Future. Well, we changed it up a bit to make it RIT specific like "You'll find your career in RIT Res Life!" I might invent an origami paper folder because after a few times of trying to fold the darn things, our minds turned a little batty, and eventually, a throwdown was issued. It then turned into this:

• We probably have all been there whether through our parents yelling at us in the back seat saying, "Hey! Look it! I'm drawing a line down the center of this seat. You stay on this side, and you on the other. Don't cross it!". Or it's the awkward knees or elbows touching where you pull away quickly once you realize they're touching. But on an airplane, there's only so much room to play nice. In addition, they build two separate seats. There's already a line built into the row! And you'd think people would have the sense not to cross it. Oh no. On this recent plane trip, it happened twice. First time, I think the guy only gave me half a seat. Literally, Mister I'm going to spread my legs like I'm doing a ski jump and cross my arms like posing in a music video, decided to ignore the line. Then, his half brother sat next to me on the way back trying to emulate the ski jump (He skipped the video). Ever once in a while there would be a shift of position and I'd quickly reclaim some space. It was an ongoing battle that I didn't do so well in.
  
• This brings up another airline traveling question. Are you the type of person to rush onto a plane once they start boarding? Me, I'm thinking, "Why rush on there only too sit for another 20 minutes while I wait for everyone else?" Maybe they're trying to stake their claim in the seat space war? I like the lobby and the 20 minutes of fresh air and open space I'm going to get. Maybe it's just me?
  
• Love is like hopscotch. You get some friends together and draw out the pattern of lines you want to go with to start, always having a place for two feet to land somewhere along the way. You throw the pebble and jump through course skipping the square where you landed the pebble. I thought I was at the end of my course having done the whole one foot, two foot thing. But if you're playing in my game, you miss some steps, there's a crack in the pavement you trip on, you miss the square you really want, and you've always got to watch out for the school bully who's there clapping with a big smile on their face only to knock you down when right as you think you've reached the end. So here's what I've decided, I've worried for too damn long about the pebble, the crowd, the cracks, heck, even the rules. I'll draw the board how I want it to start. And when I get to the two feet, I'll turn, grab my partner, break the chalk in half, and we'll go the rest of the way together. Our rules. Our game. Now where did I put the chalk...

Thanks for reading.