11 posts tagged “brother”
The shirt and tie were borrowed from me, but I have a feeling I won't ever be using those for work purposes again.
Hope everyone had a great Halloween.
Well lets see, since I last blogged a few things have happened:
My brother unfortunately failed his first attempt at his drivers license. Apparently he rolled into a crosswalk without fulling coming to a stop at the preceding stop sign, thus automatically failing. The terrible thing about it is the fact that it was the very last thing he would have been graded on before pulling back into the DMV parking lot. He is pretty bummed out about the whole situation, to say the least.
He thinks because all his friends passed on their first try that he is somehow a failure for not getting his, but as I tried to tell him; some of the best drivers I know (including myself) failed their test multiple times before finally passing. I know personally I didn't pass until my 3rd attempt. Since then I've never had so much as a parking or speeding ticket, so failing your driving test isn't a lifetime judgment on your driving skill... but of course the wound is fresh for him, so he doesn't want to hear it. I can't say I blame him though, I was a depressed lad after failing mine.
He'll be taking his next attempt at the local driving school, for a 60 dollar fee. I'd love to just have him take the free DMV test again, but between the upcoming start of his school year and my new work schedule I just don't have the time to get him there. At 60 bucks a pop though he better pass this new test on the first try!
On to less important matters; I've pulled all my money out of the bank, and promptly put it into another bank... Yeah. Well my previous bank has just screwed me over too many times for my liking, so enough was enough. I pretty much just walked across the street -- literally -- to the 'rival' bank and opened myself up an account there. I told them exactly where I was coming from and why I was there, and they just about rolled out the red carpet for me. They were practically giddy to hear my story - I guess stealing customers is a time honored tradition among businesses that lay across the street from each other.
In other more Alakan'ish news, but still relating to money, the state has approved what they are calling an "Energy Rebate", which is our politicians whimsical way of saying "Ya'll are gettin' some free cash". 1,200$ of free cash to be exact. They are saying this is to offset the rising costs of heating oil, natural gas, and disel fuel, among others. I don't much care what their reasoning is, all they had to do is mention the fact that I'll be getting free money and that is all I need to know. Of course THIS free money is on top of the regular free money that we already get each year (the PFD), so they are projecting this years check to be in the 3,500 dollar range... Yup, three and a half grand, for free. I already have plans to get myself a TV, new camera, and probably an Amazon Kindle with that money, and I'll still likely have 2 grand left to put into the bank - good times, good times.
There are times I hate being in Alaska (like, uhh... winter) but there are definitely perks to living in this state, for sure.
She's all about bringing the 'authentic' Spanish experience into the school. Is she crazy? We're in Alaska, the most authentic experience we are going to get around here is donning a Conquistador costume and driving to Taco Bell.
I'm all for making school interesting for the kids, but come on, at least make sure the stuff you want the kids to buy is actually sold somewhere within a thousand mile radius. Why can't he get a teacher that wants him to bring in authentic Alaskan snow? Now that would be easy.
I started getting dressed quick, while standing near my bathroom door trying to hear what was going on. I suddenly realize I hear my moms voice, as well as my brothers.
My Mom: *screams* "Help me with this, get out here!"
My Brother: "Why do I have to do it?"
My Mom: "Because usually this is something the man does!" *screams again* "The man takes care of this stuff while the woman stays clear!"
My Brother: "Well that's something we are going to need to change, isn't it!"
I still had no idea what was going on at this point.
My Mom: "Grab it, grab it! Throw that bag on it!"
My Brother: "I'm not getting near it!"
My Mom: "I can't believe you won't help me with this! I'm going to get Josh..."
My Brother: "He's still in the shower..."
My Mom: "I don't careeee!"
Just then someone is pounding on the bathroom door.
My Mom: "Josh! Are you dressed? Come out here and help me with this! Please!"
I tossed on my shirt quick, and my shoes and then stepped out into the hall. I hear my mom screaming again and talking from out in the garage, so I turned towards my brother with a curious look.
Me: "Who is she talking to?"
My brother: "Herself... I guess..."
I open the door and step into my garage to see my mom standing up in the open door of my jeep, wildly pointing towards the other side of the room. I look over and see a blue canvas bag moving around in little hops, each movement accompanied by another scream from my mom.
My Mom: "It's a mouse, it's a mouse! Oh God... Ahh! Ahhh! Get it, Oh my God!"
Me: "It's in the bag? Why didn't you just take it outside?"
My Mom: "It's NOT in the bag! The bag is just on top of it... Oh my God, do something!"
At this point I walk over and lift off the bag, doing my best to ignore my moms sudden ear piercing screaming. I see a very tiny gray mouse (it was a shrew, actually) and it was locked between the black suction cups of a Gopher Grip.
Me: "What the..."
My Mom: "I thought it was dead! I was going to toss it in the trashcan, but oh God, it's not dead! Hurry and kill it!"
Me: "I'm not going to kill it, are you crazy?"
My Mom: "Well do SOMETHING with it!"
I reach down and grab the bag, and the poor trapped mouse and I start to walk towards my mom. Of course I wasn't really walking towards her, I was walking outside. She just happened to be between me and the door. She screamed in horror and jumped down off my jeep and ran outside, backwards. Yeah, she was running backwards. I think she was too scared to take her eyes off the mouse... I just simply walked down my driveway, bent down and let the mouse go free. The poor thing was screaming about as much as my mom was. It ran across the street, up over the snow hill and vanished.
My Mom: "I can't believe you just did that!"
Me: "Why, I'm not scared of mice..."
My Mom: "But... he could come back now!"
Me: "He was just trying to get warm. I have a few that live in the backyard every winter."
My Mom: "Oh God..."
As I was walking back towards my house I notice for the first time that my jeep was parked halfway outside.
Me: "What were you doing with my jeep? Was the mouse under there?"
My Mom: "Uhh, no..."
Me: "So why did you have to move it?"
My Mom: "I was going to drag the mouse outside, and run him over."
Hearing this, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Me: "You've got to be kidding..."
My Mom: "I couldn't think of anything else to do!"
Me: "The best plan you could come up with was to get in my jeep and run the mouse down? That is gruesome..."
My Mom: "Well I sure wasn't going to touch that thing!"
That poor woman. I admit, I'm as scared of spiders as my mom seems to be of mice, but even I have never contemplated vehicular homicide upon one. I left for work 15 minutes later, and the whole time I was there she kept shuddering and rubbing her arms, while her and my brother argued about who was the bigger wimp for not being able to move the mouse. I wouldn't be surprised if she called in sick from work, claiming emotional stress.
By the way, this is the lil guy that so terrified my mom.
So I walk out of my bathroom sporting my freshly sheared look, and my brother says:
He then walks over and rubs my head a few times."Wow! You shaved your head again. Is that the shortest it's ever been?"
"Nah," I replied "the last time I did it this short too."
I gave his head a glance, and told him he didn't seem to have an oddly shaped head. He told me that he wasn't sure if he did or not, but didn't want to take the risk of finding out. [since apparently the only way of finding out if you have an oddly shaped head is to shave your hair off] You've got to love that kid. He may be 16 years old now, but he'll always be my little brother. Especially when we have conversations that go like this one did."Well at least you have a nice round head. Most people have oddly shaped heads. That's why I don't want my hair short."
My brother: " Did you like... throw away most of our food? "
Me: " No, why? "
My brother: " The cupboard is almost empty... "
Me: " Oh, no, I just cleaned and rearranged stuff. "
My brother: " Wow. "
Man, I must be seriously neglecting my domestic duties if my little brother thinks that half our food is gone simply because I cleaned the cupboards. Though... come to think of it, I might never have done that before. Probably scared the poor kid.
It's amazing how much more usable space you can get when you actually arrange things neatly instead of just tossing it in there. It's almost magic.
Even though I make a decent living, I'd still describe myself as cheap. Or thrifty, I suppose that sounds better. I like to buy my books at used book stores instead of brand new. I enjoy shopping at thrift shops. I love deals. I'd rather be depositing money into the bank, rather than taking it out.
As a progression of my ever evolving cheap nature, I decided I was wasting a lot of money going to get my hair cut. I'm not some sort of fancy guy who needs hair gel and space at a mirror to make myself look presentable. I'm more than comfortable simply buzzing my hair off completely, why should I pay someone to do that for me when I could easily do it myself? So a few years ago I got a haircut kit and the rest is history. You don't need amazing skills to take the clippers and shave your head.
But I have gotten rather good over the years, if I do say so myself. So good in fact that the past half year or so I've started cutting my brothers hair as well. His is a little more tricky, because he's a teen boy, and he of course needs the fancy style. Gotta impress the girls, ya' know? So the other day I spent an hour giving him the perfect haircut. He liked it, I liked it. I gave myself a pat on the back for being the ultimate brother.
And then you know what, one of my brothers friends thought it would be hilarious to take a battery operated beard trimmer, sneak up behind unsuspecting kids at school, and buzz off large chunks of hair from the backs of their heads. I found all this out earlier tonight, when my brother knocked on my door and practically begged me if there was any way to "fix" his hair. He really, really didn't want me to buzz the rest of his hair off -- the sort of fix I would have given myself in his position, so I did what I could and it turned out... acceptable. At least he no longer looks like a leper.
He was very thankful anyway, and I told him he needs new friends before he ends up completely bald.
My little brother probably knows -- down to the ounce -- how much food, and what kind of food, I have in my house. As well he should, since him and his friends are responsible for eating about 80% of all the food I buy. But the point is that he always knows what food I have here.
So when he walked upstairs yesterday and saw me chopping up some lettuce for the tacos I was making, he actually asked me if I had got it from the neighbors. He says "Where did that come from? Did you go ask the neighbors for lettuce?"
Come on now, has anyone in the history of the world actually went around their neighborhood asking for lettuce? Sugar, milk, eggs... perhaps, but lettuce? Unknown to him was the fact that I had just been at the store doing a little grocery shopping, so no, I didn't raid my neighbors fridge and take some lettuce on a loan. I find it amusing he would even think something like that. What a kid.
He liked the tacos though.
On a completely unrelated note, I was sitting here wondering at what age I would have to stop referring to my brother as a "kid", seeing how in just two short years he will already be 18. Then I realized... heck, I'm 11 years older than him. I can call him kid for at long as I want. Even when he's 70, I'll be 81! He'll always be my kid brother.
Raise your hand if you have crabs. Anyone? Come on now, you can admit it, we're all friends here. Nobody will judge you harshly - probably.
Well, my brother has crabs. OK truthfully he doesn't have them yet, but he hopes to get them soon. He's been planning for it for awhile now, and he thinks he is ready. I told him, you know, once you get crabs it's a big responsibility. They won't just... go away.
He's determined to get himself some Hermit Crabs though. This is his new adventure. He wants to be a crab farmer. He isn't setting his goals too high though, he only wants a herd of 3 or 4 crabs. Or would you call that a flock? A flock of crabs? [with the help of Google I just discovered a group of crabs is actually called a Bushel. Like corn. Good stuff to know] So yup, crabs. He went online and bought himself a nice little collection of shells, from a reputable hermit crab shell dealer. All sizes, shapes and colors, for the fashion inclined crab.
I guess though, if I were a crab -- which I'm not, by the way -- but if I were, I would want a nice shell too. They are pretty much their homes, and nobody wants a rundown, shabby looking house. Not to mention these are pretty much mobile homes. Imagine if one crab is taking a road trip through the cage, and sees his buddy with a much more luxurious and impressive looking shell - how awful would that be? Poor crab would be shell shocked.
So yup, crab farmer. I'll be taking photos as the adventure begins. Oh, and he's already named his first crab, even though he doesn't have it yet: Zoidberg. I'll give someone a cookie if they know that reference without looking it up.
I had taken my brother out to dinner a few nights ago, to celebrate his birthday (he's 16 now by the way). I told him he could invite a couple friends to join us... we ended up with 9 people at dinner. 9! They almost wouldn't let us eat, because you apparently have to call ahead for large groups, and 9 people is quite large.
Anyway, it turned out to be a rather eye opening dinner experience.
I don't know if I'm just becoming a prude in my old age, but man, times sure seem different. Kids these days -- and yes, I think of 16-17 year olds as kids still -- they just don't seem to be "kids" anymore. Two of the girls there, both age 16, were pregnant. Can you believe that? I mean, at 16 the most important thing to me was getting my license. These kids were talking about diapers, and formula, and getting government assistance.
I was floored. Are kids that much more sexually active these days, or are parents that much more clueless? I can't imagine my brother being a father. Most of the time I don't even feel mature enough to be a father myself, so how can a 16 year old raise a baby?
It just boggles the mind. Maybe this is an old fashioned opinion, but if you are still young enough to be going to high school, you just really don't have any business having a baby. Grow up a little, live some life, get a steady job and a quality place to live - then make the decision to bring a new life into this world. I wish them the best of course, but 16 is just too young.
I was sitting there, looking at these little baby faced kids and all I could think of was; what have they done?
Wrap it up boys, wrap it up. Be responsible.
