Doug Thompson Leadership Camp (Part II)

I decided to post some pictures of the trip to West Virginia for the annual Doug Thompson Leadership Camp.  Enjoy

Saturday: Evening Arrival

Awesome Ultimate Frisbee where many injuries occurred

Lance's Burnt Pudgie Pie

 Sunday: Canopy Tour

Morning Chow to prep for the big Canopy Tour

A good way to get injured right before a cool day

Awaiting our fateHigh above the trees

Jeffro

Monday: White Water Rafting

Fearless Leader: ChadThe Mystery Hole?Gabe, Eddy, Jeffro, Will, Ryan, Chad, Michael, Dr. Greist

Tuesday: Ride Home

Exciting!It got to me too!

The annual Chinese buffet visit

The End

Doug Thompson Leadership Camp 2008

Today is my first day back from the Doug Thomson Leadership Camp in West Virginia.  I was reviewing the photos from the trip and I have determined that whenever a camera flashes I turn into a complete idiot.  It’s like I have an epileptic seizure for that split second and I go back to normal when the flash disappears. 

Anyway, the trip was completely awesome and I would love to do it again.  I hope they ask me to do it again next year because I would love to do it.

#2 Worst Date Ever

Last night was yet another defining moment in the life of John.  I met with a young lady who I had previously met at a friend’s wedding.  If anyone has read the previous posting they would know that I called her by the wrong name on the dance floor.  Anyway, I managed to get together with her, where we went out to eat at Texas Roadhouse.  I wasn’t sure how to approach this situation because texting was the only form of communication besides one short phone call.  Was it a date or just “hanging out?”  Well, I wanted it to be a date simply because I haven’t been on one in such a long time.  I followed suit by purchasing flowers to give to her, I drove from 45 minutes away to pick her up, and I paid for the dinner/dessert.  I don’t think she was looking for a date, and that was the starting of a long, uncomfortable ride.  I knew as soon as I gave her the flowers that she just wasn’t into me like that.  Wishing at that moment that flowers were the sign of the end of the date and not the beginning, I didn’t realize that it would all be over in just an hour and a half anyway.

If we were just hanging out, it was one of the worst “hang outs” that I have had in a long time but that can be explained by the misdirected notion that I thought it was actually a date.  If for some odd reason she thought it was a date, then it ranks as #2 on the worst date experiences list beat only by a date that lasted only about an hour because I told my incredibly incompatible (but hot) date that I had to go home and sleep.  I have never had that hard of a time trying to get someone to talk.  I felt like I was blabbing on and on about myself the whole time.  When she was asked about her life and things she likes, she gave me real simple answers.  It was like pulling teeth to get her to talk and the awkward silence between each corny little question didn’t help.

I was pretty nervous going into the evening, and the tension continually raised as the night went on.  Swallows of saliva lumped down my throat, and trembles shuttered through my fingertips from anxiety.  She walked way in front of me everywhere we went.  And when people she knew started greeting her at the Roadhouse she seemed ashamed.  Finally dinner wasn’t punishment enough I just had to take her out for ice cream afterwards.  One hour and 30 minutes later it was all over.

I just want to thank the beautiful Stephanie/Jennifer (Stephaner) for the wonderful evening, and making it another memorable story.  Unfortunately, our different views on the evening were drastically different.  It makes a top ten worst date experience when one person thinks it’s a date and the other person doesn’t share the same desire.  That plus me looking like an idiot helps!

Black Market Blood Products

On a muggy July evening, I discovered something that I never would have dreamt in a million years.  I was sitting in the back seat of a silver car, when we pulled up to the front of an apartment building.  There were no street lights around so the lighting was dim.  A gentleman wearing black clothes and a shaved head approached the car with two Ziplock bags in hand.  His elbows leaned up against the window during the whole transaction.  Nonchalantly the front seat passenger handed him $80 in exchange for the two baggies.  The clear bags had small white boxes in them, and they were stuffed full with about ten or twelve boxes combined.

I knew it wasn’t illegal drugs like weed or coke in the bags.  It wasn’t until I was introduced to the man in black as a fellow hemophiliac that I realized what was traded was a couple bags of Kogenate, a blood clotting product.  I had just witnessed a black market transaction of recombinant Factor.

For those who aren’t familiar with hemophilia and the healthcare costs, hemophilia is second only to multiple sclerosis in costs of healthcare coverage, ranging upwards to $200,000 per year, assuming nothing is wrong physically.  And I came to find out later in the evening that the man receiveing the products had just lost his job and his insurance.  I was under the impression that there were many programs in the state of Indiana that allowed hemophiliacs to continue to receive Factor even if insurance was not available, but I guess he had already exhausted most of those options.  It is just too expensive to go those routes despite Indiana being one of the best states to live in if you have hemophilia.

All I have to say is that this really sucks.  I could gripe and moan about how society has messed up because we concentrate more on leaving no child behind but can’t provide honest healthcare for everyone, but I don’t think that will help me this time.  I hate to see people hurt and he was really in need of this Factor.  He was icing his swollen ankle the whole time we were over at his place, and he in infused as soon as we got back.  It sometimes sucks to be a bleeder!!

A Text from an Angel

I got it!

Finally, a response from all my hard work.  After countless “no’s” and endless shut-down’s, a text chimed in at 2:43pm on Sunday afternoon with a positive gesture.  “hey i think i have sun night or tuesday night off work if u still wanna hang out.”  Could I be so lucky?  What was it that I said that makes her want to hang out with this goober.  It doesn’t make sense to me.  I am way too excited to even type this “progress report.”

New Living

I bought a couch this week on my day off.  I also spent a little money on my apartment to kind of decorate it up a little bit.  It was looking pretty drab, which is nothing new to me.  My bedroom when I lived at home was a gray-walled prison cell with dark confetti carpet and the very bed on which I was conceived to lie on.  Anyway, this is my new cocoon!!

Man seeking Women to Bear my Offspring

Well, yet another story to convey to my faithful readers.

I had met an officer for the excise police who was really cool.  We exchanged information and I received a phone call from her about a question she had for me.  The call went straight to voicemail and I didn’t receive a notification for some reason.  Probably because Verizon is totally gay.  Nevertheless, I didn’t get the voicemail until after my four day weekend from work.  Since I met her through work and thought the issue was work related, I thought I would wait until Monday to return her call.  Monday and Tuesday passed by and I didn’t remember to return her call.

Last night, a week and a half later, she called me back.  Unfortunately I was swimming in the pool outside my apartment and again it went to voicemail.  The tone in her voice revealed resentment and frustration.  Dripping in highly chlorinated and sunblock-enriched water, I returned her call amidst scores of screaming kids.  When she answered I gave her the situation and she understood. 

She told me that she had a question to ask but she already kind of knew the answer.  She asked me point blank if I was married and that she had a friend that she wanted to hook me up with.  She could hear the kids screaming in the background and assumed they were my kids.  Little did she know that I can’t even hold on to a serious relationship let alone find a women that is willing to bear my offspring. 

To make a short story long, she told me her friends story and wants to set us up.  I already know that I don’t like the idea of meeting someone with certain expectations without ever seeing them.  I gave her my email anyway and hopefully she will email me.

Why does it have to be so hard?

Well, this past weekend was absolutely incredible.  I participated in a wedding for one of my best friends, and I was honored to be a groomsman in the wedding.  It was a beautiful wedding and the bride was absolutely gorgeous.  I am really happy for them.  The planets aligned that day for the bride and groom but it seemed like my stars were on a crash course to humiliation.

It all started with the Macarena.  Everyone knows how that song continues on and on and on.  Well, when the dance floor was cleared of participants who were tired of shakin’ there hips, my buddy, and fellow groomsman, and I decided to tough it out and stay out on the floor until the end of the song.  Such dedication doesn’t go unnoticed.  The DJ announced that he had a special assignment for the two of us.  We had to pick two lucky ladies out of the audience and bring them to the dance floor.  Of course, we picked the groom’s mother and grandmother.  It was cute!  The Assignment was to start a train.  That’s right!  The dance floor needed to be full again. 

I was the conductor of this human train, and after a quick pass threw the gregarious crowd, the line was astronomical.  Just before reentry to the dance floor, I noticed the brunette bridesmaid who will remain the “brunette bridesmaid” until later in the story.  She was gracefully standing off to the side.  I didn’t know her name but all I did know that she was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen who would be the perfect addition to this fleshy locomotive.  I asked her and she kindly obliged, stepping into line right behind me.

The assignment was complete and I felt accomplished for not only filling the dance floor but for getting to dance with the infamous brunette bridesmaid.  We finally introduced ourselves to each other and I asked her for the next dance.  Unfortunately, the following song was the “Cha Cha Slide” by DJ Casper.  After one too many “slides to the left” the song was completed and I thanked my lovely assistant for taking the time to dance with me during this song.

I said, and I quote, “Thanks for the dance Jennifer!”  I’m just as surprised as you! I can’t believe I said that either.  What I said wasn’t as surprising as her response though.

She replied, “My name is Stephanie” and my stomach dropped through the hard wood maple floor.  How could I do this?!

I tried to reason with her and said, “you can’t expect me to remember your name after one dance.”

As she turned to walk away, she said, “Thanks for the dance, John!”

My heart sank, but after only a few minutes of sulking, I scraped my guts off the dancefloor and continued to have a good time.  I think she noticed my solid recovery and we later danced two slow songs, mind you, in a row.  She made me nervous not because she was a pretty brunette bridesmaid but because she was THE pretty brunette bridesmaid.  And after strong encouragement and slight persuasion from the Maid of Honor, I finally got her number. 

I was sure that this story would end up being another tale of my shortcomings, but I think it all worked out.  I couldn’t believe that she still wanted to talk to me after the mishap.  I hate to be so optimistic but I hope something can develop.  But that is neither here nor there.  The point that I am trying to make leads me to one question: “Why does it have to be so hard?”

Love me like a dog

I remember back in my childhood days, my family had a dog.  She was the most beautiful dog, part dalmatian and part cocker spaniel, and her name was Dixie.  She had all kinds of black spots with floppy ears and a black head with a little white stripe running down her forehead between her deep black eyes.  She was never one to chew things up that weren’t meant to be chewed like my shoes, or a pair of my dad’s slippers, at least I have no recollection of that.  We taught her to smile too!  Every time we approached her she would smile because she knew we would pet her and love on her.  Unfamiliar people would be afraid of her because when they would walk up she would show her pearly whites and they thought she was being mean.  I remember my mom said one time, “the ultimate sign of trust from a dog is when they show you their belly.”  However much that may be true, Dixie would do that for the dirtiest, meanest person who was about to hurt her and she would drop to the ground in hopes of a good belly rub.  She was the sweetest dog who didn’t care who you were or what you had done to her.  She loved you no matter what.

After she had her first litter of puppies we started keeping her in the house most of the time, especially in the snowy winter months.  However, when we kept her outside, we were forced to keep her on a leash.  Her doghouse was located inside a tall wooden fenced in area.  Occasionally she would jump on top of her doghouse and peek over the wooden fence to where all we could see was her head on the other side.  I hated the fact that she had to be on a leash but at the time I thought that the enclosure was very suitable.  She seemed to like it. 

As I look back now I can’t help but realize that her life must have been horrible.  I can’t imagine going through life waiting on a leash for someone to bring you attention.  She was happy when we were there playing with her but what did she do the other 90% of her day.  Waited…

It’s such a sad story but it seems relavant because right now I am spending the majority of my time in life just waiting.  A lot of my friends and coworkers are very busy people, and it becomes more of a hassle to hang out than sometimes it is worth.  I have never had that one person that has withstood the test of time that I can constantly rely on to be there for me, or that I just enjoy spending time with.  It is easy for anyone to play that role for a short period.  The hard part is that I have to keep filling that vacancy with new people all the time. I have been lucky filling that position but the realization is setting in that one of these times the vacancy will remain empty for a long period of time. 

Now the time has come and I am feeling pressure to fill that position.  Who in there right mind would dread a four-day weekend?  But when you just sit at your apartment or maybe go to the pool, it becomes real boring.  Maybe it is karma biting me in the butt for the way that my dog was treated.  I don’t know, but it feels like I go through life just waiting.  Waiting like Dixie for someone to come and rub my belly.

I hope this post doesn’t sound like I go through life in pure misery because I don’t dwell on this issue much, mostly just when I am approaching my four-day weekend.  This is purely an outlet for me to release some pressure that is building up inside.  Or maybe the imaginary audience that “reads” this blog will always be my only one true friend…

Office Plinko

Wednesday was the best day I had ever had a work.  It was a typical day at the office.  Eight hours had passed and there was still nothing to do.  You can only tour your hometown on Google Earth so long before you start to pull your hair out.  My idle mind had discovered a brilliant new office game.  Armed with just a handful of push pins, a cork bulletin board, and a couple of pucks made from cardboard coasters, I collaberated the first Office Plinko.  Everyone remembers the greatest The Price Is Right game ever.  Finally it is available for office use.  It was as close to the real thing except Bob Barker.  Don’t you dare say Drew Carey.  He needs to stick to Whose Line Is It Anyway, but that is neither here nor there.

The board was set up with sheets of paper tacked to the bottom of the board with denominations to represent each section that the pucks could fall in.  The tournament style gameplay rendered three in the final round where the victorious scored the highest possible score, 200 points.  It was incredible and possibly the most fun I have ever had at work to date.  As soon as I get the video from my phone to transfer to the internet I will gladly post the video for your viewing pleasure.