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Events of Monday October 3, 2005

Alarm goes off after a restless night. “Fuck!” is the first word the escapes my mouth and I pull myself out of bed. I feel like shit. Slam a breakfast bar and pop a couple of cold pills. Listen to some Bob and Tom and head to work.

Forklift glory.
I arrive at work and find that four techs have called in sick. Huh. This should be interesting. My day is spent fielding angry phone calls and working on my rental board (exciting stuff). After work I head home. Call Rachael and tell her that I’m going to be a bum tonight. My plan is to drink a ton of juice, watch some football/wrestling and go to bed early. Since I haven’t slept for shit lately I stop at Walmart and pick up some NyQuil. I love this stuff, always knocks me out. Except tonight.

I chug some feel good juice and hit the sack. Sadly, this is anti-NyQuil. My nose starts running like a damn faucet. I’m coughing and I’m not happy. Add to this that the medicine has made my body wicked tired. I heat up some milk hoping to knock myself out. Nodda. I’m awake and I’m miserable. Around 1am I start swearing quite loudly. I give up and decide to watch some television. History channel tells me that Hitler was a bad guy and Sports Center tells me that the Packers suck. 2am. I return to bed. Still can’t sleep. Around the 4am mark I’ve decided to call into work. I’m out of sick days but there’s no way in Hell I’m dealing with forklift crap feeling like this. I call in around 5am.

Fucking NyQuil.

Less than fun

Events of Tuesday, October 4th

So I’m sick.

I roll out of bed around 10am and take the world’s longest shower. Crash on the couch with a tall glass of orange juice. Nap for a couple of hours while watching horrible daytime television. Head to Martin’s to pick up some cold meds only to discover that the shelves are empty. Apparently I missed the memo that said all drugs are now behind the counter. I ask Rachael about this phenomena (since she much smarter then me) and she explains that hoodlums use these drugs in meth labs. I guess they buy like 20 packs at a shot and cook the suckers up. Again, this just shows how out of touch I am.
Buy some drugs and juice and return to the couch.
The day is a blur of sleep and bad TV. I hate having a cold. Nothing makes you feel like more of a pansy then succumbing to the sniffles. But damn it, my whole body hurts. Rachael comes over after work and takes pitty on me. She takes me to the mall to buy some Orange Chicken (food of kings, people. Food of kings) Then the real fun begins.

So were driving back down Grape Rd. Grape Rd is the major shopping stretch in town and it’s always packed. Middle of traffic and her battery light comes on. Now I have no car knowledge at all. I can put gas in and that’s it. So the light goes and on and her power steering goes off. A touch of smoke starts to appear.

Shit.

So we pull into the K-mart parking lot about a mile from my apartment. She calls her father who diagnoses the problem over the phone. Slipped fan belt. So he says he’ll be right over. 30 minutes later he appears. He pops the hood, he was correct, blown fan belt. Did he bring any tools to fix it? No. So he and Rachael head off to the part store. Me? I’m sick damn it! They drop me off at home. After about a half hour of quilt they still haven’t called to say it’s fixed so I head out there. Now Uncle Mike is involved and both men are fixing the car. I stand on the sidelines like a four-year-old. After much ado the car is fixed and Rachael and I return to the apartment. The poor girl has yet to eat dinner. (This is the part were I make up for my mechanical skills) I run out to Burger King and pick her up a couple of burgers. We watch a bit of TV before we turn in.

Running

Events of Sunday, October 2, 2005.

Woke up at 8:30am after a miserable night’s sleep. Fighting a cold and I’m out of precious NyQuil.

Popped a vitamin, showered, threw on some gear and headed off to Top Notch. Yes, it’s time for the weekly family fun known as Sunday brunch. This is both good and bad. Good in that I get to see the family, bad in that Top Notch has horrible food. Not only that but they have the ugliest wait staff on the planet. I’m talking bowling shoe ugly. For instance our waitress was beyond greasy. Her hair was jet black with grease and her face was so shiny it blinded me. As usual I ordered a waffle with strawberries and I pity the rest of the family for ordering anything more complex. I scarf down my meal and excuse myself because I promised Andy I’d take him somewhere today.

Get to Andy’s around 11:00 and as usual he doesn’t know where he wants to go. I give him the options of a couple of video stores, he chooses the furthest one and we’re off.

I make the rookie mistake of coughing in the car and my brother instantly covers his ears. (Coughing and throat clearing are Kryptonite to him.) I assure him it won’t happen again and cautiously he puts his hands down. Of course this instantly causes a tickle to form in my throat. I dash for the far end of the video store and cough hoping he won’t hear me. Thankfully he didn’t. Andy picks out a couple of Pokemon videos and we’re out. Drop off the boy and head to my Granny’s.

Arrive at Granny’s around 1:00. I’m here to move my sister back into her apartment. She had eye surgery (two of them in fact) and has spent the last six weeks lying face down. No TV, no reading, sleeping on your face, for six weeks.

Yeah.

I pack her up and drop her back at her apartment. Return to Granny’s where I disassemble the goofy chair the doctors gave my sister to help her stare at the floor. Sadly I am the least mechanically inclined guy…EVER, so this takes longer than it should have.

Pack up the chair and drop it back off at my Father’s. Return home at 4:00pm. I’m tired.
Check out the Football scores and settle down in front of the television. Rachael gets back into town around 5:30pm and stops by. I haven’t seen her all weekend and by god I missed the girl. We chat and she makes dinner. Some sort of chicken and noodles dish which is quite tasty. (Love that girl). We settle in and watch the FOX cartoons before she heads home. I’m in bed at 10:00.

Fall Ahead

What the hell happened to September?

Events of Saturday, October 1, 2005

Wake up at 8:00 after a miserable night’s sleep. Fighting a cold. Shower, have a couple of eggs and head to the bank. Return home to organize a ton of comics before heading to the Biggs home. I got suckered into helping his Mom back into town. Now it’s not the moving that I mind. Hell, Biggs and I are Olympic level movers. No, what I mind is that we’re moving her in around Noon. This kills the whole day. So I get to the Biggs home and discover his mother is running late. Moving time is now 1pm. Grr.
But, whatcha gonna do, right? God knows I owe the boy. So we get to the house and have at it. As usual we make record time and unload the truck in 50 minutes. Instead of gold metals we are rewarded with alcohol. Coors light and White Russians to be exact. Suddenly my cold feels much better.

I return to the apartment and watch some college football. I should continue sorting through the pile-o-comics on my floor but I’m tired. Not sure if it’s from the cold or the moving. Either way I end up pulling a grandpa and falling asleep in the recliner. Biggs calls me around 5 o’clock. He and Matt and pre drinking for the Notre Dame game. I head on over for quality male bonding time. Irish kick some Purdue ass and I head on home after the 3rd quarter. Really feeling run down now. Set the timer for wrestling (yes, I am that cool) and head to bed.

Mental Health

So I played hooky today.

No real reason, just needed a mental health day. Oh sure there’s a holiday coming up in like two weeks, but damn it there’s nothing like sitting on your ass while others are working. It’s the American way. And now for your amusement (or not….whatever) a brief look at how I spent my day off.

12:00am: I leave a message on the work answering machine because I’m too much of a wuss to speak to my boss. Do a celebratory cartwheel and turn in for the night.

1:00am: Still awake.

2:00am: Sons of bitches! Still awake!

7:00am: Wake up, scrounge for the remote to make sure the world’s not on fire. It’s not. Flip channels and find the horrid Pam Anderson flick “Barb Wire” on USA. I remember when 7am meant news, 1950s sitcoms, or cartoons. Now you’ve got centerfolds spilling out of their gear. Prettier than Buggs Bunny but far less entertaining. Turn off the garbage in favor of the Bob and Tom show.

9:00am: Throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and walk to the mailbox. Normally I’d drive but the weather’s decent so I go for a stroll. Drop the bills in the slot and power walk back so I can watch ER.

9:30am: Realize it’s the episode where Dr. Mark Green gets beat up. Decide this is sad and flip over to Sports Center.

10:00am: Drive over to Kohl’s department store to spy on my brother. He recently got a new job coach and need to know if the woman’s a psychopath. Do my best Incognito Mosquito impression as I observe the boy without him knowing. The woman looks like a kindly school teacher and Andy looks very relaxed. After fifteen minutes of looking like a potential shoplifter I leave the boy to his work.

10:30am: Hit Wal-Mart for my weekly grocery shopping. Spot the “Candy lady” who fills the work candy machine. Duck down an isle to avoid being seen. Much hiding today.

11:00am: Am the 1st person to get Orange Chicken at the mall today. Life is good.

11:02am: The price of Orange Chicken has gone up. Life sucks.

12:00pm: Rachael calls on her lunch hour. It’s her second day and I fear she’s calling to tell me she hates it. Shockingly she’s having a good day. While doing office work for 40-year-old men isn’t exactly her dream job she’s tolerating the place. We talk for a few minutes and I return to watching daytime television.

1:00pm: Kick myself for not watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer when it was on the air. Damn good show that I enjoy in syndication.

2:00pm: Another episode of Buffy thanks to the good folks of FX.

3:30pm: Quick trip to Barns and Noble for a magazine. Find nothing. And head home.

4:30pm: Watch Pardon The Interruption on ESPN. One of the biggest draw backs to working is missing the wit and wisdom of this show.

5:30pm: My sister calls to chat. She’s funny.

5:42pm: She calls again.

6:07pm: She calls again.

6:45pm: Despite the fact that my fridge is now full of groceries I head to Burger King to indulge in day off fatattitude. Double cheese burgers make me happy.

7:00pm: Watch some old wrestling tapes circa 1998. Wonder what happened to Goldberg.

8:30pm: Call Rachael to chat. As usual she makes me smile.

9:00pm: Watch a full hour of “Whose Line is it Anyway?”

10:00pm: Shower. Watch some M.A.S.H. and head to bed.

11:00pm: In the darkness I realize I haven’t had to deal with forklifts in any way, shape or form. Drift into blissful sleep. (I’m guessing, as I’m about to head to bed now)

schoonaert

Cool kids

You know the biggest problem with being a dork? Everyone assumes your dork level is high. For example I recently attended a comic book show. Here are some of the questions my work cronies asked:

“Did you dress up like a Star Wars character?”

“Did you camp out in front of the convention center?”

Now honestly, do I strike you guys as being that dorky? (Shut up, Nate!)
Noooooo, I was the coolest cat at the party. Pimp’n in my Express T-Shirt, torn jeans, and Wal-Mart Book bag. (Sorry ladies, I’m taken.) Granted my coolness factor went down a bit when I lugged a stack of old comics and a bootleg Godzilla flick back to my room. But come on, that’s a long way from sport’n a Vader helmet.

Isn’t it?

…….

Shit.

Anyways, the show was a blast. I came away with many a comic, lots of pics of costumed basement dwellers, and a handful of “celebrity” sightings. What celebs you ask? Cream of the crop, baby. I’m talking Jason Mewes (“Jay” of “Jay and Silent Bob” fame), wrestling superstar, Mick Foley and the highly sexy Mercedes McNab (“Harmony” on “Angel” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”)

Boys, if you haven’t seen this girl do yourselves a favor and google her right now. Yeah. She’s hot. I’ve got to admit I felt quite sorry for the lass. She was sitting at a table with some joker (I’ll guess an agent) with stacks of 8x10 color pics for sale. She would sign these babies, pose for pics, chat about plot holes on “Angel”, whatever. But hardly anyone came to see her. Oh plenty of guys admired her from afar, but this poor chick just sat their all lonely and such.
Sad.
My theory on this is that most of these kids had spent many an hour in their parent’s basements having little mental dates with this stunning creature. Thus, when confronted with the genuine article they hid behind their stack of Captain American. Still, what must that girl have been thinking?

Vegas, man, Vegas.

So I went to Vegas. Now, there are two types of people in the world: Those who like Vegas and those who don’t. I fall into the latter category. Oh don’t get me wrong, I like shiny noisy things as much as anyone; but damn it the place is too much for me. It reminds me of the scene in Pinocchio where the kids are all in some great big damn carnival. They smoke and drink and gamble and then, in a scene far too graphic for my little brain, they mutate into donkeys. That’s Vegas, minus the whores.

Still it was good to see my boys again. You know the litmus test for friendship? Spend a long time apart and see how you interact. I mean “the group” is scattered across the map. Josh is down in Orlando, Nate’s in San Diego, Dave’s chillin’in NYC, and Jason and I are both Hoosiers. We haven’t all been together in nearly two years. Yet instantly it was old times. I mean we just didn’t talk about the past. It wasn’t one of those deals where you see an old buddy from High School and all you can talk about it something that happened in Gym class. No, we just…I don’t know, we just had that same conversational flow. That’s rare, and I hope to never take it for granted.

Quick

I know, I know I’ve been neglecting the ol’ blog lately. Sorry, but with Vegas and Chicago trips I just haven’t had the time. Big updates soon, I promise. Sunday night….Monday at the latest.

Dinner Time

There are four certainties in the life of Schoonaert.

1) I likes me some comics

2) I can’t cook.

Well, that’s not true. For all I know I could be a master chef. Rather I don’t cook. I just don’t get it. I live alone. It takes me roughly 12 minutes to consume a meal. So I don’t see the point of spending time chopping, dicing, baking, cooking all to pig out while I watch Dawson’s Cr— Uh, I mean, uhm, Football. Yes, manly football. Then ya have to clean all those pots and pans up. So yeah, if I can’t throw it on the Foreman or shove it in the microwave, chances are I won’t eat it.

That being said lets get two those last certainties.

3) My girlfriend is the coolest.

4) She can cook.

Yes, Ms. Rachael takes pity on my poor eating habits and every so often will favor me with some home cookin’. Last night the girl made egg rolls. First of all the thought that people of non-Asian origin cooking egg rolls had never occurred to me. Yet here was my white as rice girlfriend making fat egg rolls. Super fat. The kind of fat that is only cured by lying motionless in front of the TV. So yeah, the girl can cook and I’m rather happy about that.

And then….

Vegas is just a few days away. Bring on the coke and whores!