Ramblings

Sunday night's NLDS game 4 between the Astros and Braves is one fo the greatest games I've ever seen. It had everything and is why baseball is the greatest sport.

I was expecting a phone call or two from family and friends when word of the Long Beach pipe bomb made national news. The phone calls never came. There was a pipe bomb outside my apartment and there isn’t even a side note on the national news? I couldn’t even find anything about in the LA Times. This is Long Beach! How does this not make- Never mind.

How cant he movie “Flightplan” hold the top spot for two weeks, but I’ve yet to meet anyone who’s seen it?

Friday night I attended a party thrown by one of my co-workers. Fun, seven-layer dip, and home brewed beer were had. Near the end of the night, the subject of hugging became a part of the discussion. I’m not a big hugger. This apparently means that I have little less of a soul. It’s not that I won’t hug, but I don’t feel comfortable hugging. I need to have at least known you a couple years for me to even consider instigating the hug. Some people who aren’t huggers point to the fact that they grew up in a non-hugging family. I don’t have that excuse. My family hugs. My stepfamily hugs. I’ve had many friends that hug. I even appreciate the thought behind the hug. If you feel comfortable enough to press your body next to mine and embrace me, then I must be doing something right. During the discussion Friday night, a hugging seminar took place. What came from this seminar? I suck at hugging. This isn’t the first time I’ve been told that I’m hug deficient. Perhaps, that’s why I don’t like hugging. I’m not built to hug. Not only is my personal space quite large, but physically not made for hugging. I’m a beanpole with lanky arms. To hug me properly your arms need to be able double wrap around me. My lanky arms only make hugging more difficult. Unless you wear a size 60, I end up touching my own shoulders. All of this doesn’t exactly make me conducive to hugging. I don’t know if I can ever become a good or even adequate hugger, and for that I now apologize. Though, I still refuse to accept the European double-kiss as a proper farewell even if you really are European. You could lose an eye doing that.

I recently found out that there’s a chance my brother might move to the Chicago area to pursue his MA. Yes, I’m happy for him. Yes, I’m also thinking about the Cubs. Yes, I’m actually a little jealous he might get to live in Chicago.

I was planning on writing how I miss that small window in the 90’s when hip-hop was A Tribe Called Quest, Public Enemy, and De La Soul. Then I remembered the Roots, Blackalicious, Doom, Jurassic 5, and etc. Still what they call hip-hop on the charts today isn’t really hip-hop. 80% of it is just pop music.

I picked up the sequel to Brothers In Arms for the Xbox. In a cramped niche of WWII games it is the best out there. It’s a great squad based first person shooter. The game builds upon the first game that was good and makes this one great. What is good about the first game was the visceral thrills of leading your squad across an open field while mortar shells drop around you. This sequel ratchets it up a notch. From watching German rockets whiz right buy you sending dirt over your head to dodging two tanks as they barrel down on you it’s great high tension moments. They also do a great job of making you actually care about your squad. So when you send your squad in the wrong direction only to see them cut down it actually pains you. Also, the enemy AI can be a real bitch sometimes.

I miss the days in school when friends and I would gather to watch X-files, Homicide, and Buffy. Lost seems perfectly made for such get togethers.