Check the Signs

I know it's been awhile since I last wrote something, but to be honest, that was kind of by design since I knew that I would be pretty busy for a few weeks and figured that I might as well just wait and get all of it out of the way, at once, when I finally had some time. If you've shit yourself waiting anxiously in your computer chair for me, I apologize whole heartedly.

Last Monday, I took this picture of a speed limit sign that was posted at 70 mph, and noticed that in some ways it personifies a little about me. One, it shows that something ridiculous but subtle can still entertain the hell out of me, and perfectly taking the snapshot while going (admittedly) over 70 miles per hour shows my ability to act properly and accurately. I used to think that I was good at noticing the signs, like this one, and in many ways I still think I can pick up subtle things with people and read what actions may be taken (for example, would I have been informed about Mike's party had my sister not been there?). Something happened last week, before me and Jay went camping, that made me re-evaluate though, but I think my problem can sometimes be that I see the signs but hold out if not for sheer faith in people I know. I guess one of my characteristics that I feel makes me strong, loyalty, can sometimes backfire and make me weak. The point of what I'm saying is that I'm done ignoring the signs. . . I can read them quite clear now. . . I won't be holding out anymore. I don't feel the need to name names, sorry to leave everyone else guessing.

Now that I have the bullshit out of the way, let's get down to business, although I'm not too sure to begin. I suppose I'll tie the loose ends and just come out and say it: the USA failed, Big Time. For some people, the USA bowing out (more like flunking out) of the World Cup means you can go back to watching baseball and not caring, but I'm still going to tune in. Honestly, I've been able to watch most of the games since they started June 9th, and for the most part, they've been incredibly entertaining. Hell, even today, I saw Italy move on to the quarterfinals after Totti nailed a last minute penalty kick against Australia when the game was tied 0-0, and then a shootout that saw the Ukraine pass by the tough Swedish defense. There's been lots of great soccer being played, with a more than a few beautiful goals. Referee's aside, it's terribly enjoyable.

What may have galvanized me to the negative reaction across the nation is the fact I didn't have to labor through our countries final game because I was on top of a mountain close to a campfire. After finals finished up, Jay and I got our camping trip underway early last week, and I think it was exactly what we both needed after having our brains fried by academia.

We drove a couple of hours down to Virginia and met up with Jay's dad (the camping guru as far as I'm concerned) at Shenandoah national park. Almost immediately after we pulled up to the campsite, the guru's comment that rain might be unleashed was made a reality, and just as quickly, Jay and I both started having flashbacks of the weak of rainy hurricane-induced hell we went through two years ago on the same trip to the same mountain. This time, however, the rain only lasted a half hour, and we never felt a drop for the rest of the trip. The weather shined every day we were there, and we took full advantage, hiking each day on a different trail. Getting out in the wild isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I always like to get away from the concrete jungle once in awhile and soak in nature's beauty. Damn that sounded gay, but oh well, it's the truth. We hiked the trails, took pictures of waterfalls, breaked for some fly fishing, hung around the campfire, saw the most incredible star-filled sky and cooked up manly food every day and it was fucking awesome. With me, I may always have things on the backburner of my mind, but getting away from it all like I can when camping helps me relax.

Checking out shit like this, how could you not? We got back a few days ago, and while I didn't think I'd be doing much of anything, it turns out that wouldn't be the case. Back home in Jerseyland, Mike's parents, for some unexplainable reason, left Mike in charge of the house while they went to visit family. Mike, his house, by himself, on a weekend. . . . . . I'm sure you can already see the possibilities. Well, Ray and everyone made sure that shit went down, and Saturday I got a call saying I should swing by. It was a good time, especially since I hadn't seen those guys in a couple of weeks. The usual suspects were all there, Joe and Dana in tow, and even Darin and Jenny made an appearance (which is nuts cuz I've seen them maybe twice in the last two years). I even had the honor of being the one that buzzed Jackson's hair into a perfectly cut mohawk. And who says that sober people can't have any fun?