The First Eye vs. The Q of C

I had a horrific dream last night (the word "nightmare" doesn't quite do it justice). It involved the two creatures you have all come to know and love recently, but both of which are absolutely the most terrible things that I believe have ever been created other than Glee and sushi. The dream revolved around an upcoming epic battle between the Queen of Colors and The First Eye (in case you missed the description of The First Eye, click here). I'll spare you the details of why they were fighting and how they even knew each other--rest assured, it was all very complicated.  And in the dream, the battle never actually took place. There was just a lot of preparation and anticipation before I woke up in one of those half-screams-half-cries. But it's gotten me thinking all day today what would happen if those two forces of evil ever actually faced off. I'm still not sure who would come out victorious, but I did come up with a list of strengths and weaknesses that would factor into the whole thing:

Ironman Woes

Before I rant and rave about my most recent rantworthy rave, I want to let those of you in or near the Provo area know that I will be telling my story of having major surgery in Eastern Europe on The Porch this Thursday (Jan. 12) at Muse Music at 8:00 PM. For the event page, click here. We would love to see/meet any of you who can make it.

Now to more important things: the ever approaching doomsday, May 5th, 2012. Several months ago, in a panic, I went through the 275 step process to register for an Ironman (I found it quite fitting that the registration process itself was like an ultra-endurance event--one which I felt like I deserved a medal of honor for completing). At the time I thought this was a fantastic idea, partly because May 5th seemed like an eternity away. I have the unfortunate habit of considering anything that takes place no sooner than two seasons in the future to be "an eternity away," which very tragically diminishes my ability to make good decisions at times of great pressure. For this reason I have committed myself to "survive" (the term I use instead of "run") multiple marathons and miserably endure several camping trips in my life. But the moment of panic that led to Ironman 2012 was unprecedented, as was the fruit of said panic (I think it may have all been part of an early mid-life crisis (I hope "early" is accurate)).

The First Eye

This weekend the winds of strange blew me southwest to southern California and Mexico. My friend Dan and I decided sort of last minute to roadtrip our way to the land of tortillas (I'm really not kidding that freshly made tortillas in Mexico was responsible for about 82% of my decision to go). We left Thursday afternoon after a mad attempt to get my affairs in order.

The drive through southern Utah is one often full of great anxiety for me, mostly because of a creature my older sisters created in the late '80s to haunt and terrorize my childhood. Dear strangers, meet The First Eye.

2011

2011 was good to me. It was also my strangest year to date, which is how I measure success. I believe that if I'm living my life the way I should, the best year of my life will always be the last one that I lived. "Best year" doesn't mean that all of my hopes and dreams have come true. And a year where all of my hopes and dreams have come true wouldn't necessarily be my best, but perhaps just be my most unexpected one. Best year for me doesn't mean that everything was peachy. And in fact, for a best year to happen, things probably can't be all peachy. That's because a best year is one full of personal growth and change, variety, accomplishment on both a macro and micro-level, and an endless string of bizarre experiences to relay to you. And by that standard, 2011 has easily been my best year to date.

Character Defense

This morning I received the following text from my mother: 

"Dear Eli, [Cathie always addresses me in her texts by name in case I'm not sure who she's speaking to] I read the comments some people have said about you online and I don't think you should be concerned because these people look weird. And your family loves you."

This was followed by an equally bothersome, "I won't be reading them anymore! Icky!"

Cathie has earned her "Tellin' It Like It Is" award many times over, which is one of the qualities we love most about her.

Wondering exactly what monstrosities about her precious boy she could have possibly encountered electronically, I ventured onto the www to discover what I feared might exist:

Snuggie Texts Part II

The response to last week's Snuggie Texts post has been very entertaining and unexpected, getting near 100,000 views in the last six days. Many of us wondered whether Jane would eventually see the post. Yesterday morning while attending a family Christmas breakfast party I received a text from the same unknown number. Below is our text exchange, which took place throughout the day. Please share it via Facebook or otherwise and feel free to like our facebook page. I love you Jane. Keep being you.

Enjoy.

Snuggie Texts

Perhaps because I've been in a particularly snarky mood lately, I couldn't resist last night when I got an accidental text from an unknown number. The following is our text exchange over the next 24 hours in its entirety. [For follow up, see Snuggie Texts Part II]. Please LIKE us on Facebook or FOLLOW Stranger on Twitter. Enjoy:

Unknown:
Hey Amanda! This is Jane. I was thinking for Beth's wedding gift we could go halfsies on one of those blocks of wood that says words like faith and hope that they could put on a mantle or hang on the wall. What do you think?

Eli:
Hmmm . . . I saw couples snuggies at K-Mart the other day on sale for 9.99 and I think this is probably more of what she's looking for. It's more practical.

Emails From Craigslist Part II

If you missed yesterday's post, you'll want to go back and read it before you read the continuation of my back-and-forth email communication with a stranger from Craigslist who goes by the name of "Ray."
Yesterday he responded with the following email:
______________________________________
Knick knack Paddy Matt,


Although this email is hard for me to write, I fear this is something that must be done. You have provided your number now multiple times, and my fingers ache to delicately pick up my receiver and gently spin the wheel of numbers until I have dialed the magnificent combination of 8-0-1-X-X-X-X-X-X-X. My heart cannot deny the yearning I feel to hear the voice that answers the phone (what type of phone it is, I know not, though I particularly fancy the idea of it being a Cricket Wireless or, dare I let my mind go wild, an I Phone.). Alas, I cannot allow myself to call because mother has returned.

Emails From Craigslist

My roommate Matt is moving out of our apartment at the end of the month (artistic differences) and so is desperately trying to sell his lease. He recently posted it on Craigslist and yesterday got a very interesting email from someone named Ray:


_______________________________
-Matt


This apartment sounds great, and the move in time sounds ideal for my situation. I was so relieved to see that the rent was so affordable, much better than what I have been paying for the past ten years (my mother has charged astronomical amounts, but I've stayed to tend her cats). Please let me know more about the apartment and roommate. Regards,


Ray
_______________________________
 
 
Matt responded:
 

Technology

I belong in 1950. And not a minute later. This is because of technology. I'll explain.


Technology and I have a hard time together (I imagine the feelings are one way. But I'm not totally sure that techology is sans feelings, or that it is apathetic about me if it has them). Already at age 27 I'm that bewildered old man who gets lost in conversations that use words that start with "I" and end with another word that by itself doesn't greatly confuse me, but seems to mean something entirely different in the context I'm discussing here. Normally when people use these words, I nod thoughtfully and respond with something vague like, "communication and entertainment really do drive innovation, don't they . . ." assuming that whatever they're discussing has something to do with either communication or entertainment. I then change the subject to something I'm very knowledgeable on, such as the benefits of having a Snuggy (I'm wearing one right now, and I love it with all of my heart).