Crumpled Notebook

So, I found this book, Do Fish Drink Water? on our bookshelf that was in our closet. It’s not my book, it was left here. I’ve seen it before, but never taken the interest in looking at it until my friend Ross was here and started looking at it. Anyway, it’s a book full of interesting facts and answers to strange questions by Bill McLain.

Today I was reading about the real Count Dracula. Apparently he was based on a guy named Vlad III Dracula, who was the Prince of Wallachia (the present-day Romania). His father was Vlad Dracul. Dracul is the Romanian word for “devil,” and the prince was called Dracula, which means “the son of the devil.”

The name seems quiet fitting based on what I read about this guy, Vlad III Dracula. He would have his enemies or those to opposed him skinned, beheaded, boiled, blinded, burned, or buried alive. His favorite method though was to impale his victims on stakes (he was also know as “Vlad the Impaler”). Once, he impaled 20,000 Turkish prisoners.

If that wasn’t enough, he believed poor people were worthless and theives. He held a feast at his domain and ordered all the poor and sick people in his kingdom there. At the end of the feast, he had the hall boarded up and set it on fire. No one survived.

Despite all of these horrible things he did, there isn’t any indication or record of him being a vampire. Some think Bram Stoker modeled his character on him because of a friendship he had with a professor at the University of Budapest who supplied him with information about Vlad III Dracula.

On a side note, I learned that legend has it that vampires have an almost obsessive compulsive-like desire to count, especially things like seeds. People used to sppread mustard seeds or something like that around their house because supposedly it would distract the vampire and take their interest off you, hopefully until the sun comes up. I was quiet surprised I didn’t know this actually. I knew about the obsessive complusive thing, but didn’t realize it was about counting (gives that Sesame Street Count Dracula guy a whole new meaning). I have this thing about knowing strange things about fictional monsters, werewolves, vampires, etc…so that is why it surprised me so much that I didn’t know that little fact. I guess you can only learn so much watching The Monster Squad a few hundred times.

I haven’t did one of these in a while, I think it’s about time. Actually I had a pretty interesting week. I had a friend, Ross who was in town so we did a lot of the touristy stuff around here. We went to the San Jose Science and Tech Museum, to Big Sur Camping at Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park, and to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. It was a great time and fun was had by all. We also went to Pebble Beach and drove the 17-Mile Drive. It got me to thinking that I haven’t done that much touristy stuff since I’ve been out here. I did a little when I got here, but not too much. I think it’s funny how locals never do the tourist stuff, but when they do, they always have a good time. It makes me wonder why we don’t do it more often. We have all these fun things to do, right where we live, and most people spend all their time looking for something to do or sitting in front of the T.V. at night watching the Olympics. So yeah, I’m gonna try to start doing more tourist things. At least one touristy thing every two months. That is my goal at least. I figure it’s the least I can do since I get to live in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

4 states, 2 Buddy Holly planes, 2 sodas, 2 airlines,
12.5 hours, 1 failed engine, 1 special security screening, and 0
Starbucks…what a day!

It started with me knocking on my friend Sarah’s window at 5:30am, praying that it wasn’t one of her roomates’ window. A quick trip to the Monterey Airport where I hit the long line of people waiting for their early Thursday morning flight. And of all those people, it was me, little ol’ me, who is just trying to get to a funeral, that gets “specially selected” for extra security screening and informed I need to go straight to security (as if I had anywhere else to go when my flight leaves in 10 minutes). I still think that I was selected because of my “Pitch to Barry” San Francisco Giants shirt and was headed toward DogerLand. They must have figured I was on a suicide mission, either that, or my blond hair and blue eyes makes me
totally look like a terrorist.

Arrive in L.A.–I barely remember this, except I was given the wrong
departing gate, and only because I chose to find a seat away from people
that happened to be facing away, did I realize that MY flight was boring
across the way. Then, off to Denver…which I didn’t realize I was going to,
until I woke up, looked out the window and decided it was too brown to be
Houston and then the flight attendant welcomed us to the “Mile High City.”
Talk about panic. Next time I’ll listen when they do the beginning
announcements before going to sleep and read my flight agenda better. From
there, it was off to Houston, which I was happy about. I like the Houston
airport, even if it is named after one of them right-winged Republicans
(haha!). I’m comfortable there, and of course, there is my all-time
favorite, Chili’s Margarita Bar. Except paying $8.50 for a margarita is
NEVER going to happen again. It was more than my meal. No matter how good it
may have been, totally not worth it.

Then we get to the fun part of the trip…one more buddy holly plane from
Houston to Lake Charles (plane #4). We get on the plane and apparently the
engine shut itself off. 20 minutes later, after mechanics whom I never saw,
looked at the plane, we restarted it up, and took off. Talk about paranoid.
You hear every little noise on those plane, especially when you are sitting
in the very rear. Luckily it was only a 30 minute flight, so not too long to
fear for your life I suppose. After that, I’m greeted by my step-siblings
and off on an hour long drive to B.F.E., the Cajun version of it, alligators
and all (if you don’t know what B.F.E., I’ll explain later).
All and all, I made all my flights, arrived on time, and didn’t have a plane
crash or get hijacked. I got lots of compliments on my San Fran shirt AFTER
I left L.A. (I got a few evil stares too, but I chose to ignore them).

Ready to do it all again on Tuesday!

Yeah, I say I’m not a big fan, but I have to admit, this summer I have been glued to my television for Last Comic Standing (and actually was glued to my TV for The Apprentice in the spring). I even stopped The Sound of Music last night so I could watch Last Comic. I think I like this even better than The Apprentice. In fact, I think now, I want to attempt a stand-up comic career (ok, not really, but what fun would that be!). But yeah, I have no reason for this post except to say I LOVE this show. It’s the best show I’ve seen in a long time. In fact, I would choose to see an episode of that over Friends right now (pick up your jaws). So, yeah, if you haven’t seen it, the Finals are next Tuesday and the result on Thursday…watch it.

I realized tonight that I had lost something. I lost it and didn’t even realize it until just now. I’m sitting here, waiting on midnight to roll around, and thought to myself wow, I’d love to go for a drive. And granted, I do have my car back and ready to go and have had it for a few weeks now, maybe a month, but it’s still in my driveway, waiting on stupid County Attorneys in stupid little counties in Kentucky to help me settle my little car problem (it’s a long story, you don’t wanna know). So being the good citizen that I am, I leave my car sitting in my driveway day after day, til I can legally drive it again.

Now, that may not seem like that big of deal to some of you people, at least I have a car you may say. But you have to understand something about me. I love to drive. I always have. I’ve been known to get in my car and drive a few counties away, just because I was bored. One of my friends even wrote a poem about it. I can easily put over 100 miles on my car just joy riding in the country. All that being said, I realized tonight I haven’t done that in a while. And when I say a while, I don’t mean since my car was stolen and all the other stuff going on. I mean, in years. I seemed to have lost my thrill of driving. It was kind of a sad realization because driving, in the past, was my way to clear my head, to ease my mind, and to help me just not go completely insane. Maybe that explains why I’ve had a harder time over the past few years of controlling my “mental state.” Maybe I’ve not been joy riding enough. At any rate, you can bet, as soon as this little problem is solved, driving is going to be my favorite pasttime again. I don’t care how much the gas costs, its going to happen. Even if I have to give up little liberties like food to put gas in my car, it’s got to be done. You have to do what you have to do. After all, my sanity depends on it.