Vacations anyone?

I usually feel a little weird when people talk about traveling ... with that sound in their voice like absolutely nothing would make them happier than seeing destination A or B. I've never really gotten it. I guess if I'm going to spend a lot of money on something, I like to spend it on an object that I can keep/see/touch/use everyday.

I'm not much for seeing tourist sites. The museums and such around here? Boring. My skin doesn't take too well to tanning, so it bores me to lay out on a beach knowing it will do nothing for me ... though it MIGHT cause me some pain from a burn at day's end.

That's probably why I can barely remember the last time I took a "vacation" that wasn't to fly home to Indiana to see family and friends for a holiday or event. While that honestly suits me just fine, it isn't very interesting, so I finally came up with a couple of options.

The first is a ballpark tour. I hadn't really thought about it until talking about someone in the process of completing one a few months ago, but it seems a good way to have an excuse to see various areas of the country while doing something that is a LOT more fun than sitting out on the beach or visiting museums.

I could say I have some crossed off the list already, but to do it right, I guess I should go back to the three still functioning and document them with photos other than me in my seat with a beer or something ... A trip to New York will be must-schedule for next season as well.

I have little doubt I can find people to accompany me on this mission, but the second is a whole other story. It's an expedition to Antarctica. I haven't really started asking anyone, but how do you suggest taking a cruise somewhere you'll be walking around on ice?

I say there is nothing better than the chance to have a penguin come sit on your lap, and surprisingly the ice looks amazing, too. I don't know though. That could just be me. We get to leave from Buenos Aires at least. Any takers? :)

Weird lunch situations continue

It happens to all of us every now and again. You walk toward a stranger on the sidewalk, you side-step to not run into them, both of you go the same way ... then both back the other way. You get hung up. You smile and laugh. You apologize. You go about your way.

Never in all of my 28 years have I been a part of such a ridiculous encounter.

On the way to lunch, Melina and I waited to cross the street. The walk sign came on. We started to cross.

Coming toward us was an older guy in ridiculous '80s running gear. A sweatband on his forehead, those too short running shorts, the mesh tank top over a t-shirt ... a real train wreck.

I'll admit there have been times when I have decided I'm standing my ground and make the other person dodge. NOT this time. I wanted out of this guy's way.

On my left, Melina took the outer maneuvering route. There were strangers on my right, so I decided to follow suit and go left, too.

He kept going straight, but wavered a bit as if in a drunken stupor. Wavered a bit TOWARD me. Melina made it, but I couldn't get out of the way.

I stopped to see which way he would go before continuing.

He never stopped his forward motion, kept mumbling something like a crazy person ... and continued going straight.

I couldn't go anywhere. Still, he went forward ... continuously bumping into me like a Roomba does when it hits a wall and needs to turn around.

Correction ... continuously bumping into my BOOB.

First there was a boob graze, and I expected the usual recoil and apology when an accident such as that happens.

Instead, he looked down, seemed to see what had happened, and PRESSED forward two or three more times before brushing past.

I spun around with an annoyed, "EXCUSE ME!!?" He never turned around.

I stood in the middle of the street, speechless. Melina stared at me with her jaw dropped. I said, "He poked me in the boob!" as I instinctively wiped my shirt off. I felt moisture on my hand. I looked down to find a wet spot left on my boob from his sweaty, disgusting hand.

I was molested in the middle of F Street NW in broad daylight! Talk about a ruined appetite. Even the two or three hand washings prior to getting in line couldn't wash away the filth. I considered buying a new shirt, too. Ew.

Division series ... total suckage

This pretty much sums up how I felt about my entire evening last night:

I believe this was taken around the time Arizona was tacking on another run in the ninth inning. Ugh.

As if the double sweep wasn't bad enough for the night, it also became glaringly apparent I belong nowhere near bars where college people hang out. Maybe my mood wasn't optimal, but as more and more of them shuffled in ... all WAY more interested in dancing like idiots to "My Prerogative" than to watching the game (weren't we at a sports bar earlier in the evening?), I wanted to kick them. A lot of them. And even more so because they were all about 4 years old when that song was on the charts (and that is even probably spotting them a couple years). Then it was "Ice, Ice Baby," "You Can't Touch This," "Footloose" ... I could go on and on. It was awful.

So, the season's over ... again. I'd be OK shifting more of my focus to watching the Colts ... but networks around here don't find it necessary to broadcast their games, so you can swap out the Cubs shirt for a Colts tee and reference the above pic for how I'm feeling about that as well.