Saltshakers and sleepwalking

I was listening to one of my favorite podcast's yesterday, Hamish and Andy. They're two Australian radio hosts, who I first discovered years ago via YouTube. I listen to them now on a pretty much daily basis. Well, yesterday, their on their show they were talking about sleepwalking. It made me think of one of the funnier stories from my life.

When I was in high school, my older brother Chris moved back home and stayed with our family for a while before he got married. One of his great pleasures in life during that time was messing with me. One of his favorite tactics was to come into my room when I was sleeping, stand directly over my head, and knee the bed until it shook enough that I woke up. Then Chris would silently stare at me for a few seconds, then slowly turn and leave my bedroom.

One morning, I woke up to get ready for school, I rolled over and saw in the middle of my floor a salt shaker. I stared at the salt shaker feeling quite confused. I got out of bed, picked it up and walked out into the hall. Chris was getting ready for work, looked at me and asked why I had a salt shaker in my room. I looked at him confused and said I didn't know. Chris looked me for a few seconds then said, "You must have been sleepwalking or something," then went about getting ready for the day.

A few days passed, and the same thing happened again. I woke up in the morning and there in the middle of my floor was a salt shaker. This time, I suspected Chris must be messing with me. I got out of bed, marched out of my room and questioned him. He denied all involvement. Then, I headed downstairs to ask my dad. He'd tell me the truth.

I told my dad the story of what had happened, then told him I suspected Chris was the culprit. My dad laughed and told me Chris wasn't doing it and suggested maybe I really was sleepwalking. I walked out of his room feeling even more confused.

This continued for months. Every few days I'd wake up and find something sitting in the middle of my floor. Sometimes it was a phone, or a remote, often times though. It was the salt shaker. I became thoroughly convinced that I was sleepwalking. There was no other explanation. My own father wouldn't lie to me for the sake of a joke!

So I started to accept the fact that I was sleepwalking. I'd tell the story to friends and family. Every morning that i'd find something in my room i'd tell my dad and laugh about it, saying how I wished I knew why I was collecting random household objects.

In May of the next year, my brother got married. He moved to a small apartment downtown with his wife. Around this time, I started to notice my sleepwalking had stopped. No longer was I waking up to find objects on my floor. I started to put the pieces together in my head. I waited a few days letting everything sink in, then confronted my dad. After a long session of me questioning him, he cracked. It had been my brother all along. A few times my dad had been in on it as well.

After thinking about it for a while, i'm pretty sure this has to be one of the better pranks ever pulled. The sheer amount of dedication and time it took to pull it off makes it absolutely brilliant. It's like something you'd see Jim Halpert do to Dwight on the Office.

The impact of a life

Last night, Honduras played El Salvador in the CONCACAF Gold Cup. As I was flipping through the channels and came across the game, I instantly wanted Honduras to win. I don't have any favorite players on the Honduran team, but Honduras reminds me of a favorite person I knew.

I don't remember exactly how I met Mike Murdock, it must have been in school though. We probably knew each other in middle school, throughout the first two years of high school I knew him casually, but my first real experience being around Mike was in our junior year. We were two juniors stuck in Keith Leppert's sophomore geometry class. As we were the only two junior in the class we sat next to each other.

Throughout that year, I have countless memories of Mike. He was from Honduras and him and I quickly became friends. Not a day went by that he didn't make me laugh some how. I remember the time he smuggled gummy worms into class. I remember him trying to sing country music songs as Mr. Leppert always let us watch CMTV. I remember Mike and I working together trying to figure out our assignments. I remember him telling me about his many car-related incidents. But the best memory I have of Mike came out of class.

One day we had an assembly, I decided I wanted to skip it but not having a car, I planned on spending the hour or so just walking around town. I'd gotten a few hundred yards from the school when Mike pulled up in his car next to me and asked me if I wanted to get in.

I got in and was instantly handed one of those little bottles of juice that are usually reserved for little kids. I looked around and Mike had whole case of them from Sams Club. That day, we went to a park and spun cookies, then headed back to the school after getting chased out of the park by a neighbor.

Mike was easily the happiest, most genuine person i've ever known. He loved life and loved people. After graduation, I fell out of contact with Mike, a few years later while I was in the Philippines, I got an email from a friend who told me Mike had passed away. It's been about six years since I got that email and not a month goes by that I don't think of Mike at least once.

It's amazing the impact that one person can make in your life. The really amazing thing is, I wasn't that close with Mike. We were good friends in school and always talked during classes, but I only hung out with him a handful of times outside of school. I can't imagine the impact he had on lives of those who knew him better.

I've been bad at keeping this blog up, but i'm going to try again

I want to start blogging again regularly. I really miss having a regular outlet for my writing. The problem is, I'm not sure what to write about. I'm sure my legion of followers (all three of you) have missed me writings (not really.)

But I do miss writing, I've been trying to think whether I want to make this a serious blog, full of my musings on life or if I want it to be filled with funny stories and experiences from my life. Or if I should make it full of sports related posts, or some combination of the three.

One thing I do know though is that i'm going to do better at posting. I want to get a new post up every week, even though I only have three followers at the moment, it's still fun for me to have an outlet for my writing.

Falling in love again (with a soccer team)

A few months ago, I did something stupid and rash. I broke up with my one true love, Tottenham Hotspur. It's something I've come to regret. I've gone back to my first love, I know i'll get some crap from some people, but that doesn't matter to me. What matters is that I realized Tottenham is the team for me.

I'm mostly writing this blog post for me. I doubt the three people who follow my blog care about this, but it's something i've been thinking about for a while and wanted to talk about.

I realized the problems I had with the team were silly and in the big picture don't matter at all. I complained about the fact some fans acted, the way some decisions were made at the club and the fact that they were constantly disappointing fans with their late-season collapses and a few other petty reasons. None of that matters though. I can put up with some stupid fans and disappointment. It's the team I love and they're worth it.

I know I shouldn't have left them in the first place, but I did and now I've come crawling back on hands and knees. Even with all the flaws, it's still the team I want. Isn't that what love is anyway? Feeling so enamored and caring so deeply about someone or something you still want to be with them despite their shortcomings and problems.

I have been a fan of the club for 13 years now. I never stopped loving them, I think I just really needed a break from them for a bit. But i'm back and ready to recommit myself to the team I love. I'm sorry for straying. I promise i'll be true from here on out, you're the team for me Tottenham,

I get in awkward situations ... a lot.

For some reason, I often end up in really weird, uncomfortable, awkward, and humorous situations. Maybe I just have bad luck. Maybe it's the fact that when i'm nervous or uncomfortable I try to make jokes (which usually don't go over well, and tend to make things worse.) Anyway, the other day, I was remembering two of these situations during a class I took in college.

A few years ago at college, I took a first aid class, When, I think about that class two things stick out in my mind. My teacher coming in half way through an inside joke and wrongly assuming i think child abuse is funny, and the fact that I had one of the oddest, and funniest phone call experiences in my life.

In class, we had been learning how to perform CPR and the Heimlich manuver on infants, and babies. We were instructed to turn the baby onto his stomach, and hold him, then give three pats on the back to try and dislodge what was stuck in his mouth.

We were given dolls to practice on, and I was talking to my friend Todd and not totally paying attention to what I was doing. As I went to hit the back of the baby, Todd started laughing, and I realized the doll was facing the wrong way, and I'd hit it in the face.

A few days later we were reviewing for a test, and the teacher asked what to do if a baby was choking. I jokingly leaned over to Todd and said "you just hit in the face right?" As I looked up, I saw the teacher was staring directly at me. Not knowing the back story she assumed, I was humored by (and possibly participated in) slapping babies.

Lets just say, she was not amused.

I got a five minute lecture in class, and then had to stay after and got yelled at more. And was given a pamphlet about the dangers of child abuse. I'd tried to explain to her about what had happened, and that she'd just come in half way through an (understandably bad) inside joke. But she didn't buy it, so that made the rest of the semester quite awkward.

A few weeks later in one morning while I was walking to class, I was texting someone and had sent them a text right before class started asking them a question. About 10 minutes into class, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, assuming it was a reply to the last text I sent, I pulled my phone out and flipped it open. When I looked down at my phone, I realized that it was a phone call not a text, and I quickly hung up my phone.

When class was out, I looked at my phone and thought the number looked familiar and I thought it was my sister's new number, so I called them back.

Expecting to talk to my sister as soon as the phone was answered I said "Hey, you called me sorry i was in class and had to hang up on you." Instead of my sister's voice I was answered by an angry old woman. She told me "I did not call you! And if YOU had called me, I would have hung up on you!" Then, the line disconnected.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud, as I walked across campus.