5 of the Most Traumatic Experiences of My Life

I feel like I'm fairly open on my blog. I've touched on job hunts, party habits, sports allegiances, but never some of the most awful things that have happened to me. Since I consider you all my friends, I'm ready to share some of my deepest, darkest secrets.

5. Asking a Girl Out for the First Time

As I've freely admitted, I'm not terribly awesome with women. That being said, I was horrifyingly bad with girls in elementary school. I didn't talk to them. Ever. Why would I? Still, I had a new crush every month or so.

When 4th grade finally rolled around, I was finally ready to strike. By strike, I mean meekly write an "I like you" note, cross my fingers and hope for the best. I tried this with 2 different girls (Not at the same time; even then I wasn't that dumb.). I didn't get bad results. The reason? I got no results at all. They got the notes, told all their friends, then said nothing to me about them. Ever. What the hell? At least tell me, "I don't like you or your fat face." The silence cut like a knife. Oh well; bitches gonna be bitches.

4. Nearly Drowned...Twice

My lovely grandparents took the kids from my mom's side of the family on a camping trip to Big Sandy. The campground had a lake with a large swimming area. To paint a picture, I'm still a terrible swimmer. My best stroke isn't the breaststroke or backstroke, it's the struggle and sink. Somehow, my brother and I ventured out a bit too far, and started fighting for our lives. My grampa saved my bro and my cousin saved me. Later that trip, we set a tree on fire trying to make torches with sap. My poor grandparents.

Fast forward to the summer before 8th grade. I was on a sailing trip to the Apostle Islands with my family. We approached the first island, and anchored with my parents' friends' boat. Their son was slightly older and swam like he wasn't wearing concrete shoes. He decided to swim in. I decided to, too. Luckily, he decided to save me when I freaked out halfway and nearly drowned...again.

3. The 1998 NFC Championship Game

Clearly, I've always hated myself, because my first love was the Minnesota Vikings. Some of my earliest memories are of watching heartbreaking Vikings games. The '98 Vikes were different though. They were the best team the NFL had seen in years, they damn near went undefeated and they had Randy Moss in full-on Freak mode. This was going to be the team that finally brought the Super Bowl championship to Minnesota.

Then they didn't. They choked against the rotten, overachieving, stupid dancing, no-good-nothings the Atlanta Falcons. I was devastated. I threw a shit fit in the back room of my grandparents house (Those poor, wonderful people.). I was roughly 5 years too old to cry about a football game at that point, but it sure didn't stop me. Oh well, at least the Vikes have made up for it since. Damn it.

2. Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Again, I'm not real great with women generally. However, one was seduced by my bullshit to date me for about a year. The problem was, we were in college, she went home for the summer, and things went south quickly. Honestly, we were both miserable at the time, although I wasn't ready to admit it then.

Finally, she broke up with me. We decided we would give it two weeks to see if anything would change. I like to think my crisis management skills are much better now, but here's how I coped during those couple weeks. I:

-Grew a Beard
-Drank heavily nightly
-Threw up off the front porch
-Got tossed from a slow pitch softball game

By the time we talked again, I was mostly just relieved it was all over. Eventually, I shaved, the drinking lessened somewhat and I haven't been thrown out of any more games. Yet.

1. Birthday Party Surprise

When I was in the 1st grade, I went over to one of my buddy's birthday parties. His family lived in an awesome house down on London Rd. As I recall, it was quite the event. Games were played, cake was served, I sharted my pants, presents were given. This was such a traumatic experience, I don't even remember how I got out of there. I know I tried to clean myself up and hid in the bathroom. I imagine my mom picked me up and I never spoke to any of them ever again, though I can't say for sure.

Well, I hope you enjoyed the trip into my dark past. I'm sure I'll write about beer or something again very soon.

Lazy Sundays

Sundays are the best. Other than my sisters grad party, this has been a pretty usual Sunday for me. It's Father's Day, so I got my old man a card and all, but I don't have any legitimate children so it's not like I'm getting any presents today.

One of the best things about my new job is we are closed on Sundays, so I'm always off (obviously). Saturdays are my favorite night to go out, so I usually feel like a sandwich that was left on the counter all night when I wake up on Sunday. After awhile, I move from the bed to the couch, flip the TV on, and sleep some more. Golf and baseball are my nap companions this time of year. Fast food is a regular Sunday staple too, because if there is one thing I dislike, it's cleaning, but if there's another thing I dislike, it's preparing food. It seems like it would be cool to learn how to cook, but I have fantasy baseball and this stupid thing to concentrate my "talents" on right now.

Once Nap #2 is over, I'm usually feeling less terrible, so instead of napping through TV, I actually watch TV. If I'm feeling especially nimble, I may watch TV and surf the internet all at once. Sunday TV is great, even when football is over. Family Guy, River Monsters, and now Whale Wars is back again! Holy shit what a hilarious show! Don't get me wrong, I'm not pro-whaling, but watching those bumbling pot smoking morons "fight" the whalers is fantastically pathetic. It harkens me back to "Grizzly Man", which is the best comedy I've ever seen. He named the bears, he felt like he was one with the bears, then he was digested by the bears. Maybe some people don't see the humor in someone invading the habitat of a group of bears, thinking they care for him then beaing eaten by them, but I do.

Believe it or not, sleeping all day makes it tough to go to bed early, so I'm usually up pretty late. I think the reason Mondays are so shitty is that it's so hard to get my body clock back to that time frame. Anyway, this was a pretty pointelss post. I was almost too lazy to even do it. I'm being way too productive for a Sunday right now. TV time for Tommy Boy.

Why I Hate the Canucks

I'm a Wild fan, but short of them winning a Cup, watching Vancouver meltdown and blow the Cup on home ice is about as good as it gets for me. For one thing, they are one of the Wild's biggest rivals but it goes much deeper than that.

Let's start with their fans. Until last winter, I had always felt a kinship with Canada and hoped they did well in international sporting events. That all changed in the Olympics last year when Vancouver fans booed Team USA hockey no matter who we were playing against like we were the villains. Same continent, bro! Then last night they booed throughout the trophy presentations and destroyed their own downtown. Canadians are really eh holes (thanks Aaron).

As for the team itself I've hated them ever since Todd Bertuzzi almost committed murder on the ice on the cheapest play the NHL has ever seen. Yeah, it was the act of one man but violence begets violence and maybe that never happens if he is in a different locker room.

When the Wild made their magical run in 2003, coming back against the choking Canucks was especially sweet. Well, let's face it, ending Patrick Roy's stupid career was awesome too.

Fast-forward to this year. The Canucks went up 2-0 in the series along with Burrow's bite and Rome's cheap shot. The thought of them hoisting hockey's Holy Grail was enough to make my stomach turn. Luckily for me, Vancouver is the least clutch team in hockey and Roberto Luongo is a whiny douche who comes up small in big moments. Oh yeah, and the creepy Sedin twins are regular season champions who don't come through when it matters most.

Whew, that rant felt good. Baseball anyone?

Don't Call it a Comeback

I've decided something. If you choose something you really like doing, just Nike it and go for it. For instance, Ke$ha fell out of the terrible singer tree, hit every branch, landed, then had the tree fall on her. That didn't stop her from "singing" and it inexplicably hasn't stopped people from liking her music. Mel Gibson has the whole world telling him to stop being an anti-Semite and to stop abusing women, yet he presses on.

Life is too short. You gotta do what you want to do. Even though I realize my blogging has been as prolific as LeBron in the Finals lately, I will do better. Well, probably not better, but at least more often. Quantity isn't quality but I can aim for one and at least score one.

I've been computerless lately but this is being typed on my phone, so I won't keep that as an excuse anymore. I enjoy doing this too much to not post more often. I also have at least a half dozen readers that are mildly amused by them to worry about too.

The plan is to post more, and hopefully have a couple cool new wrinkles this summer too. I hope the Summer of Tom is treating you all well.

A Typical Night Out

As I'm sure you've already noticed, my buddies and I like to go out for some drinks and merriment. Instead of writing about any specific tales, I will encapsulate every night we've had out in one post. Ready...go!

Guy 1: Where should we go tonight?

Guy 2: I don't know. I don't make it up here much, so maybe we should go to the same bar we go to every time I'm here since it's our favorite.

Guy 3: Yeah, maybe. We always go there though. Switching it up could be cool.

Guy 4: Let's just finish our game of Tiger Woods/NHL Hockey/Dance Central and figure it out after.

Guy 1: Deal.

(4 drinks each later)

Guy 1: Shit it's getting kinda late. Same bar we always go to?

Other 3: Yup!

Guy 2: I'll call a cab. Make sure you watch for it.

(30 minutes later)

Guy 4: (In an awful Pauly D voice) The cabs ahh heeeehhhaaa!

Guy 1: But I just opened a beer!

Guy 3: Why? You knew they were coming.

Guy 1: ...I'm an idiot. Screw it, I'll take it with.

(After traveling at the speed of light through town.)

Guy 2: Anyone else have cash?

(Deafening silence.)

Guy 2: Damnit.

Guy 1: I am absolutely drenched in beer right now.

(A few drinks are enjoyed and some sloppy shufflepuck is played. Then...)

Guy 1: Shots?

Guy 2: Nah. I don't want to go overboard tonight.

Guy 4: It's getting late. I'm trying to get on top of something. Who's coming with me!

Guy 3: ...fine.

Guy 4 to Random Girl 1: What winks and screws like a tiger. ::Violent winking::

Guy 3 to Random Girl 2: Your earrings are stupid.

(Painful silence. Both slink away without a word. More time and drinks pass.)

Guy 1: Shots?

Guy 2: YOU KNOW IT!!!!

I would keep going, but that's right around the memory cut-off time for me. The point is, there are many nights like many nights before them, but we always have a good time...except for the days after.

Double Standards

I've recently moved into a new house, and one of my new roommates has a cat. I like the cat, but every tiny thing he does drives me crazy. When he drinks out of my water glass or hops on the counter to get to the window sill, I can't take it. I don't want him knocking stuff over and getting his dirty cat paws all over the place I prepare my food. Since I'm home alone with him often, I think it behooves me (I'm behoven?) to keep him in line.

Contrast that to my sister's cat. I've known her for four years. Also, much of that time I didn't actually live with her and was never responsible for her in any way. Because of that, if she's on the counter when I come over, I don't think that's gross; I think, "Wow, she looks very regal up there." If I was a good person, I would help train her, too, but we already know that I am not.

The same goes for my city. Being from Duluth, I am allowed to rag on its weather, lack of activities in the winter, job market, etc. However, if an outsider starts bagging on my city, I want to tell them to, "Ride your polo horse back to your gilded mansion with your pool filled with caviar and jet skis and never come back! Dick!" Why? Because they don't also appreciate how awesome Duluth really is.

Friendship works in a similar way. When I go out with my buddies and one of us (oftentimes, me) gets out of line, we largely let it slide and it is completely forgotten the next day. One time at the U, a couple buddies told me I could go pleasure myself, left me at a party and locked me out of my own dorm room after the girl I was making out with tried to punch them for some reason. All we could do was laugh about it the next day. On the other hand, if a stranger looks at one of us the wrong way, we want to fight them. We generally don't because we don't want to get arrested or get our faces caved in, but still.

The point is, loyalty matters. In a perfect world, things would probably even out a bit between the ones we know and the ones we don't but...oh, my sister's cat is standing up on her hind legs like a ferret! She is HILARIOUS!!!

Me Hungover, Trying to Save Myself

(It is 1:32 AM, at the tail end of a night out just like many others before it. The following day, an extremely hungover Tom has acquired a time machine, and is attempting to prevent the inevitable sickness which is soon to follow.)

Drunk Tom: Jesus, you are handsome. Who are you?

Hungover Tom: It's me, you idiot! I'm you!

DT: Whoa...I didn't think I was that drunk. Usually my illusions are large women somehow looking small, but nothing like this.

HT: I'm not an illusion. I somehow found a time machine and I'm trying to prevent us from making a terrible mistake.

DT: Calling our exes?

HT: No...well, yes, don't do that, but that's not what I mean. Don't drink anymore tonight!

DT: Why not? I feel amazing! I'm impervious to the affects of alcohol!

HT: Yeah, well I feel awful. I feel like microwaved garbage. I feel like I was drop kicked into a pile of glass. Besides, do you even know what impervious means right now.

DT: ...sex?

HT: Wow. Seriously, it's not worth it. You won't have any more fun, you will probably get angry, and you will pass out immediately when you get home.

DT: Nope. Imma keep drinking so I am confident enough to talk to some of the LAAAAY-DIEES!!!

HT: But you won't! You're going to play half a game of shufflepuck, lose your friends and walk home!

DT: Go away, you're no fun.

(In the background, "Shots, shots, shots-shots-shot-shots!")

DT: EVREEEEEEE-BODAAAAY!

HT: I give up.

DT: Where are you going?

HT: I'm going to go back in time and try to help College Tom get laid more than once in a blue moon.

DT: That sounds even more hopeless than this.

HT: True. Well, I feel like I'm going to throw up. Jackass.

DT: Love you, too!