I hate to say it, but it felt good to stay at home and do nothing tonight. I tended to my plants a little bit (thinned them out) and then flip-flopped between watching the tournament games and playing Civilization II. I will say I'm a bit worried that these plants are growing too fast and that they'll be ready to go outside before outside is ready for them. But I digress; it was a nice, relaxing, lazy evening. And the best thing is, it was easy on my wallet. That's the best thing about it.

Tomorrow I go to my parents' house to help hang more drywall, though this promises to be much easier, as my help is needed only to hang the immense 4-foot by 10-foot piece my dad bought. (The ones last week were 4x8 pieces.) So, I'll be able to go there, get that done and get back here to finish up some leftover work due Sunday (I'm working) and to just relax and take my time getting ready for an evening o' fun. Or something...

Go Golden Eagles! They won in grand fashion last night, and that was cool. It was cool to be at Joe's on Weed Street with my cousins and Willie's Marquette friends cheering for a school I almost went to. It was a good game too. Though whoever set up the wait staff screwed up...they put this one waitress to cover the entire smaller-sized room we were in. We waited often as much as 30 minutes to get beer we ordered or food. It wasn't pleasant in that sense. But it was definitely a great time, no doubt about it.

I might just relax at home tonight, unless someone calls me out of the blue. I haven't been home much and I shouldn't spend too much money anyway. But we'll see what happens. If anything, I'll head to the workshop again and do some woodwork or something constructive.

The nice thing about screwing up your NCAA Tournament bracket early is that you get to root for whomever the hell you want throughout the rest of the tourney. Three of my Final Four participants have been eliminated, so I'm pretty much done. That means I can go tonight and root for Marquette to beat Pittsburgh (my only alive Final Four member), because there's no money riding on it. It should be cool, hanging out with my cousin Willie and his friends from Marquette...I'm sure I'll get into it.

Not much time to blog today though...pretty busy at work.

Exciting times are to be had in the personal sports department here at Andy Inc.

Floor hockey starts up again tonight, and I'm pretty excited. Kinda sad to lose Troy the Trumpet Player though...but he's got his heart set on learning hockey (somehow) off the floor before he returns to the floor.

16-inch softball is already set and ready to roll...don't know exactly when, but it isn't too far in the distance.

Today I did late research for the company's 12-inch softball team. Don't know if there's enough interest, but I guess I'll know in the next couple of days. Hopefully there are leagues open around here.

The only unfortunate news came last night, when I learned I most likely won't be participating in the Chicago Triathlon. It goes on August 24, which is a Sunday, and we all know what happens to me on Sundays from mid-August on. I work. This really sucks, because I was actually kinda psyched about doing this. Who knows? Maybe by then I'll be free of my Sunday work schedule, if you know what I mean? :)

All right, I need some lunch.

Here's something that frightened me yesterday.

Evanston. Evanston frightened me, but not in the way it used to always frighten me.

I've hated Evanston from the day I set foot in that Godforsaken suburb. Parking: crap. People: mostly crap. Attitude: pure crap. I swore when I left NU that I'd never again live in Evanston.

Here's what scared me: Evanston didn't look bad yesterday evening. Like, good enough to live in. Even typing that right now sends shivers into me. I don't know why, but I felt yesterday like I could move into Evanston and be cool with it. Again, I don't have a clue why I felt that way suddenly. I hadn't been there in months, and the whole area around the big cinema has really sprung up...nothing spectacular (except a Noodles & Co., which is one of my fav restaurants nowadays) that I'd live to have, but good enough, I guess.

I guess I'm just weird.

Interactive blog time, baby! It's been a couple great days of realization without solution, and I want to share the love.

Problem is, you're going to hate me for this, because I'm not sharing my answer here--I'm not comfy with putting it here...but I want to stir thought, and maybe responses if you all so desire, via this entry.

Think about this, real hard. What's the one thing in this world that, when you see it, you have to avert your eyes, or else you'd be so happy you'd cry, smile, laugh, or whatever you do when you are happy beyond belief, and thus look silly to anyone there? Kind of a personal Medusa, except with obviously a different result. And I mean THE ONE THING...not "well, kitty cats make me smile," or "such and such song makes me cry with joy."

I think I know what my personal Medusa is, but I'm going to act like a 10-year-old and keep it my secret. If no one comments, that's cool. I just wanted to give you all something to think about.

Chew on that one for a while.

Brief blog before I bust into working...

Well, I snapped at my dad yesterday. There was one point where I just got fed up and said: "...and now you're starting to piss me off. Ya know, I don't mind and actually like helping out with this stuff, but stop treating me like a five-year-old, or I'll just leave and you won't have anyone to help you." Some time after that, he let me find and mark the studs in the ceiling...but whatever. I feel bad about it, but he has to understand that I'm not a little kid anymore.

After we got done, around 6 or so, I headed over to see what Luis was up to. He and his girlfriend Monica and his sisters and cousin were watching "Road to Perdition" and said to sit and watch. They were planning on watching the Oscars after. I said OK. It was a great time. We just mocked the hell out of the whole thing...I decided I would keep a running tally of mentions of war in Iraq/pleadings for peace vs. Oscars won by "Chicago." Chicago had a late lead, but Michael Moore's rant pushed "peace" over the top. I had to award "peace" three points for that explosion. "Peace" ended up winning 14-6. Again though, it was close early.

I was glad to be watching the Oscars there, instead of at home by myself. Because, simply put, it would have made me think of where I might have watched them and with whom. Watching them with Luis and Monica at least made me forget some things and have some fun watching the Oscars. But I digress...

...more as it is warranted.

Well, this weekend has confirmed one thing: I'm DEFINITELY not moving back in with my parents and brothers. Forget it. I was at the house yesterday b/c the Sox had a season-ticket holder event. I stuck around for a while to see if my dad needed help b/c he redid all the wiring in the house and is redoing the kitchen. He didn't need my help, so I left. But within the couple of hours I was there it was ridiculous. Everyone pissed at everyone else, making me pissed too.

So today I came back around 10 am, because we're gonna start hanging drywall for the new kitchen ceiling. We've done this before, for the back porch. I'm currently taking a break while my dad cuts a hole in the drywall for where the light fixture goes. But, I wanted to blog because I came to a stark realization. I know why I'm so damn demanding of doing everything myself. It's my dad. Period. I'm here to help, right? But what do I do? Stand around and watch him and occasionally hand him a tool. When I say, "While you're doing X, why don't I do Y?" He says something like, no, we don't need to do that right now.

This all despite the fact that I THOUGHT I had proven myself to be a pretty handy Andy, what with the gardening, landscaping, housework and now table-building I did all by myself. The only thing I've done while he's done something else is measure where the studs in the ceiling are. Anything else I've actually done, he's looking right over my shoulder practically or just standing there, even though the point of me doing something is to save time in the long run.

So, I give up. If all this handywork was nothing but a subconscious effort to prove to my dad that I can do that stuff too, well then, I guess that'll be the end of it. However, if I do enjoy doing it (which I'm pretty sure I do), then I'll keep doing it. But now I know that my dad is very much like me: An I'll-do-it-myself kind of person who occasionally needs help.

It's really cool when you make these realizations in life, but I'm a little depressed to know that there's no way my dad will ever trust me on that type of stuff.

Oh well, back to "work" I go.