C Note(s)

First, the only man involved in this story of woe is yours truly. This is a story of my first foray into the world of internet dating. More importantly free online dating websites. You get what you pay for, and while I didn’t pay one red cent I certainly “paid” for this experience. You’ll need some background information. At the time of the story I was in the early stages of my divorce in 2008. I was still living in the house which, thank Christ for small favors, was a split level. Basically divided the house into downstairs and upstairs. I claimed downstairs. While I was down there for months, I signed up for Plenty of Fish , a free online dating (POF). I wanted to hook up, and hook up immediately. So I was cupcaking with anyone and everyone that would pay attention. One lovely young lady paid attention to me. Her name was Robbi Lynn. She had a couple of photos posted but they were the self portratits from a cell phone but only from her left side. She and I made plans to meet up at

Speaking of iguanas (see C Note Bamboo Chicken), I have a story about one that became Godzilla. I was playing NASCAR '98 in 1998 on the Play Station that was purchased by my girlfriend at the time. She had the cats and two iguanas. It was Animal Planet up in there! My then-girlfriend entered into the living room to interrupt me. She was crying as she said, "Edward is dead." That's the name of one of her iguanas. After phasing the video game, "Wait. What? How?" She goes to explain that while cleaning their separate tanks, she accidentally switched the iguanas. She put Francis in Edward's tank and vice versa. Edward was frustrated so he busted out. He wandered out to the cold bathroom floor. She nudged him but didn't react so she assumed he's dead, because being a cold-blooded animal and died of lack of heat. "He's not dead," I grumbled in response. I then located some leather gloves to pick up the carcass. I searched the 2n

So this just happened. I was rolling home a.ka. the C & C Crash Pad after tutoring the child assigned to me for the Costco Volunteer Reading Program. After detailing the Sapphire Sled inside and outside, and placing a new Seahawks emblem on it yesterday, I was feelin' good, like the Michael Buble version. With the windows down and the sunroof open, and the music blasting out from Mark VI, I noticed a smoke plume from under the hood. My heart sank. I was no longer carkaraoke [see what I did there?] the Pentatonix song "Sing", but focused on the hood. I continued my way home. I kept the engine running as I lifted the hood. The pungent smell of cooked anti-freeze was present but I couldn't locate the source. Finally able to realize that while I'm no mechanic like Doctor Auto but I know enough that there's a leak in the radiator where all this anti-freeze should be. I logged into the Costco Travel website to locate a nearby rental car. They called

Since I've been a cashier for a Costco warehouse for three months, I've had the unique opportunity to be around more varieties of chicken than imagined. Raw, frozen, prepared, and mostly, rotisserie chicken. It reminds me of the time, I dined on bamboo chicken. I turn back the clock to June 2003. This is actually a sub-story to a larger tapestry of adventure, but I'll focus on the sub-story. It was my honeymoon with my then-wife, Charlene. We were married on famous Miami's South Beach, then departed on the Carnival Paradise, at the time the only non-smoking cruise ship for our exotic Western Caribbean cruise. One of ports of call was Belize City, Belize. We elected to buy an extensive shore excursion of cave exploring and lunch. All the cruisers piled on the bus. Another couple we were seated with at the dinner table was Lauren and Sean from Connecticut, so it was comforting to have a friendly face on the tour while we were away from the ship. The tour guide advis

I'm so happy to be reunited with an old 'friend' that's sporting an addition - my messenger bag with my NYC patch! You see my messenger bag is adorned with patches from my travels around the world. For a long time, I've sewn on those badges myself but a dear friend of mine showed me a different way. She held it hostage for several months as Totem Lake Shoe Repair sewn on each patch professionally. I've since quit my layman ways and only have them do this job like a boss. I digress. The story of this bag is one I'm proud to tell as it's been with me on many an adventure! Why a messenger bag, you ask? I know it's no longer the late 90's to the early 2000's. Or that I'm a former cyclist courier. Why I have it is manyfold. It provides the largest landscape for displaying patches, it's versatile for carry capacities (expands via zipper on the main pouch, also coverts to a backpack!), it's stylish to me, it's neo-vintage b

Athletes, military folks, and mothers have a keen sense of SA (Situational Awareness) After I learn a life lesson from my dad, I have that same developed SA. I'll digress for a grip. You see, my dad was a basketball coach for a couple of years, but I wasn't on the team. So I would travel with dad to each game. As you can imagine, I've been running my mouth about as long as I've been living. Well, my dad warned me several times that if you're on the court (field, pitch, whenever the ball is) you better know damn well where the ball is. One particular afternoon, I was talking loudly on the basketball court. Surprised? Well, he yelled my name so I turned my head in the direction. All I saw was a large orange basketball filling the space. I woke up sprawled out on the court, with my nose blown open like a cantaloupe. Got it, message delivered - know where the ball is. I know my dad didn't mean for that happen, but it did. Let's fast forward tonight, shall we

Usually my mouth finds trouble for me, and Friday night at work was no exception. Friday nights at the warehouse tends to be busy but mundane. So to spice up the microvisits I have with members, I ask what is the plan for Friday night fun? Again, I usually receive the following safe and mundane answers: Dinner / drinks with a spouse / loved one / friend Movie and eats Chillaxin' at home due to long work week One couple's answer took the cake ... literally. I asked the standard aforementioned question, they said blah, blah, blah. I retorted, "A good looking couple such as yourselves should and probably could tear up the town and paint it red instead." The wife pipes up, "Oh! I know. Something better." The husband and I wait for her to continue with baited breath. "I'll run back to bakery, buy one of those Red Velvet cakes, I'll smear it on you (she's looking at her husband), and I'll lick it all off." She punctuates h

To be honest, I didn't plan on another entry until a month from the last one ... but life's funny like that. I had a challenging day today, which was mostly self-inflicted by breaking one of my personal rules. "To be early is to be on time, to be on time is to be late, and to be late is to be forgotten." ~ Anonymous I slept craptastically last night, so after running errands, and breakfast, I decided to lie down for a disco nap prior to my work shift. I posted up on time, but right on time, so I was asked not to clock in then get to work instead of the 30 seconds I spent dropping my backpack into the break room. Fair enough, but no leniency was a grip ticky-tack for me. I volunteered for the Costco Volunteer Reading Program at the local elementary school to tutor a child that needed additional attention to bring his/her reading level up to the class. Today was my 2nd session which was scheduled in the middle of the shift. So I felt that I had to really fight for