Rainy Day

I love a good rainfall. We had one of those today in California. It was POURING down. We hardly ever get it like it was today. And of course, I was out trying to get something done for once, so I was too busy to really sit back and enjoy it. It seemed like it was pretty great too! One cop had parked his vehicle in front of a huge lake of water on the 101, blocking traffic, and I guess, keeping cars from going in and stalling out or something. All I know is that it looked awesome and it bottlenecked the flow of traffic. At the time, I was too frustrated to smell those roses, but looking back, I think the little boy in my was trying REAL hard to enjoy it, and look at it, and want to strap some boards together and float in it.

For some reason, whenever I see rain coagulate like that, it takes me back to when I was a young lad. I guess I was around 10 or so, but I remember when it rained hard, and maybe it was just this one time, but I remember coming home and seeing this gargantuan puddle in our yard, in front of our peach tree. At lest I thin it was a peach tree. Anyway, we (I don't remember who did it with me) set sail on this wooden crate. Wait. As I am thinking about it, I'm picturing our vessel in my head, and it doesn't really seem like it would stay afloat with us on it. Actually, it probably just sank down into the muddy water, but seeing as how it was only a rain puddle, it probably wasn't that deep... Wow. The things we have to do with our memory to distort it so that it makes sense to us.

What if it really did float us?! What if it defied logic, and because we, as children, didn't fully understand it, we weren't held accountable to the laws of science, but now, as an adult, I (we) have to look back and assemble the pieces together until they all make sense and are explained away. Well, I don' think I like that very much.

Oh, I guess I need more photos in my blog. So, here you go. This is my nephew Wyatt. He loves to wear my helmet, but it's really heavy and he can only wear it for so long. Also, he loves chips.

Malts

Watched the Golden Globes at my brother's house tonight. Robyn made pork roast but was planning on making pot roast. It was still really delicious. I forgave her though. I had my heart set on pot roast. I have to be honest. I figure, if I can't be honest here, where any stranger with some electricity and an internet connection can see and read anything that I type on this page, then where can I? It's a good practice too. The whole, be honest in a public place, I mean. I figure, some day, we will have to sit in front of a judge and he will look down at us and ask us if we want to cross examine the witness or something lawyerie/judgy like that and we'll just be like, I don't know what to ask him your 'honor", and then the judge will look down at us with that look, like "are you being sarcastic?" and we'll look back just kind of confused and play it off like we weren't trying to be, when sure we really were. I mean, come on. How are we supposed to cross examine an eye witness that saw the murder take place in broad daylight, and they were the one that just happen to be there with a video camera catching the whole thing on tape. And they're really a good person and you couldn't find any dirt on them to try to discredit them in court, and they just look like some angel, better than everybody else, when, even if they are, they shouldn't go around town bragging about it or showing it off with just the way they dress and behave themselves in public.... Wait. I think that was a question. Pretend I ended that sentence with a question mark. Yeah, I know I could just back space and delete all this crap, but then again, why would I do that when I was taught all growing up, that I need to show my work. So, you're seeing my work. In writing.

Waiting

I have to get my car. It's been sitting at the mechanic since yesterday. I wasn't going to take it in, because I thought that the problem might just be the thermostat. The guy from AAA was trying to tell me to just change it myself, and that it could be real simple. Then, he gets in the car to move it and says that it feels weird.... the same weird feeling you get when you blow a head gasket.. So, I take it in.

It was the thermostat.

Now, I don't know how easy it is to change the thermostat in a 2000 Volkswagen Jetta. And I guess that's what bothers me. If I knew that it was hard, then, I could feel much better about paying someone $150.00 with the tools and the know how. But, as it is, I don't know. I'm so close to the answer too! I could just, open another tab, click some letters on the old keyboard in the appropriate order to form the words that pertain to my certain situation and the internet does it's job. I don't know what that is actually. I have no idea what happens one I punch those letters in.

My educated guess is that there's a magic wizard sitting at a crystal ball, just peering into it. I guess he would have to be paid to be doing this. Also, he would need an internet connection to respond to everyone's inquiries, since we don't have a receiver crystal ball. But, then again, why don't we? That's what we need! We all need a receiver crystal ball. Each and every one of us. In fact, if President Obama can't provide every american with our own receiver crystal ball, then I guess the terrorists have won.

Come on man, there's still time.

Another draw

I try to write from my heart on this here blog. I try to keep it honest, and terse. Well, ok, maybe terse is the wrong word here. Why would I say that? I guess it's because I looked it up again just now to make certain it was the correct word for the moment, and, it very well may be... see?!. Honesty. Nothing wrong with a little honesty. I emphasize "little", because it leaves you room for more honesty, without demanding it. There's nothing worse than people who use "complete honesty" as an excuse to be mean. I'm trying to think of a good example... Here you go. "Oh wow! What is that shirt!? Uh, you couldn't find something that makes you look fatter? And what is that.... a design? Yeah, I don't think so. It looks like it was drawn by a psycho old man who was put in a mental institute because he likes to make hand puppets out of dead cats but then one night he decided to get really drunk and make something that he thought would look really pretty on a shirt, and he was just starting his rough draft, and he knocked over a candle and blew up his meth lab! ........ What? Don't look at me like that!? Yeah right, like you weren't thinking the same thing. Whatever, I was the only one who was honest enough to say it." Anyway, I don't care much for those people.

...I have got to stop writing these blogs so late.... OR.. make sure I ONLY do it at night..

Board to death.

I think it's safe to say I'm terrible at Trivial Pursuit. But I would like to know for certain.

I randomly selected a card and I'm going to test myself. I'm officially inviting you along for the ride. Aaaaaaaaaand here we go:

1. What country is the Helvetian Republic? Hmmm.. Good question. But here's a better question: How did I grab such a sucky card right off the bat?! Is that a baseball term? I guess it is, and that it has something to do with where you end up, as a batter, once your ball comes to a stop.

Funny. There's a better question, and one that's more fun to ask people. "Where do you want to be when your ball comes to a stop?" Maybe that's not a good question, because people would just say "I'd like to be there right next to that ball if at all possible." Idiots. That's not the point of the question. You know what I mean? Of course you want to be there right next to the ball. Unless, of course, you don't like your ball and you were trying to lose it or just separate from it in the first place. If that's the case, then it was a good question, because it would reveal a lot about you, the person. Deep dark revelations. I mean, we're talking straight up Book of Revelations, type stuff.

So I guess it's more of a question to weed out the people with ball issues. Unless, you liked those people, then I guess it would be a question to weed out the regular, ball liking people. I think what we learned here is that that age old question really has no moral bias against either group of people. It is a just and fair question, and really, when you think about it, it's one not asked frequently enough.

So, that is my challenge to you. Get out there, and ask people about where they would like to be in 10, 20 or 50 years, in relation to their own ball.

You can't just glide through life.

Switzerland?!.. are you kidding me? No wonder I don't play this game.

Nothing

I feel like my letters have been getting a little too heavy. I know a lot of people like to call them posts, or blogs. Actually, I have no idea what people call their messages they leave on their blogs. Seems like they say, "check out my blog from today". Yeah, actually, I can see that more than, "You should read my post." You know what else? Blogging must have been really hard back in the old west, because, if you were the one that had a blog, you would have to go all over town, on your horse or just walking, and just nail up copies of your thoughts for the day. And just "post" them on wooden structures all over town. I don't know how you would keep track of who's reading your posts either. And then, how could you read their comments. You would have to go all over town and check each and every post you had out there. I guess in some ways it would be better, because you know sometimes someone leaves a witty comment, and you try to come up with something witty, right back at them, and sometimes, you couldn't think of something really killer to come back with until sometime after and it's too late because you've already commented?! Well, you could just say it on your other posts. Man, I really missed out by not living in the old west. Anywhere in the old west actually. I know the west was big place and there were probably some places that were better to live in that others, but I think as a general rule, it would be pretty awesome, I mean as a time period.

Cleaning

My buddy Ben is helping me clean my room. I have a lot of things I've collected over the years, and it's hard to know what are the things I need to hold onto, and what are the things I need to let go. Here are a few items I thought I should hold onto: 2 pair of swimming goggles. Velvet likeness of Abraham Lincoln. Gold sash from when I took Kung Fu in college. Remote control airplane I had in high school.

Now, this is not all that I have. These are just SOME of the things I've felt that I should hang onto because I just NOW that some day, there's going to come a time when someone is going to cross my path, and they are going to have to wear some sweet kung fu outfit, or they are going to have an audition for some old time-y chinese martial arts film, and I'm going swoop right in to save the day. Or, sometime in the future, I'll be sitting around watching old Bruce Lee movies and my kids are going to talk about how they think Bruce Lee is really cool and they are going to look at me and ask me if I could ever do something like that, and of course, I'll be able to look back at them with confidence and say "yes, yes I DID do something like that". And I'm going to reach over to the cabinet in the t.v. room and with perfect timing, I'll pull out that gold sash and say, "I received the gold sash." And my kids will look at me with respect, and fear, and awe, but mostly the fear, and they are going to know that I am just as bad "a" as Bruce Lee, and it's all going to be worth it. They really don't have to know that the gold sash is the first sash you can get. I think it's what you get automatically. I don't even think you have to do any sort of punch combinations for it. Definitely not any kicks. That seems like it would be too much. And they CERTAINLY don't need to know that my biggest martial arts accomplishment, by far, is that I won a Bruce Lee yelling contest at the community college that I went to... And how will I be able to accomplish/avoid that?!..

by hanging onto that r.c. airplane, the extra lap goggles, the velvet Lincoln, and of course, that beautiful golden sash. And, oh yes, there are plenty more what that come from...

Orange juice.

My faith in humanity was restored again. And it is due to an orange juice my friend was drinking.

It's 2010. We are now officially living in the future. I suppose I have no 'authority" or "government post" which would allow me to make such declarations, but I don't care. Desperate times and all that jazz. And since I never use my God given power for a "Citizen's Arrest", I just used it to make that announcement.

Actually, that raises some good questions. How come we were never properly trained in the procedure of a citizen's arrest? When would one be appropriate? And, if it's so dangerous, are there any "Citizens Doughnuts" available? You know they say use it or lose it. Well, I'm just saying, you better not get all illegal around me from now on. All the regulars, or "cops", as I called them before this last paragraph, are usually pretty busy. I know, because I was pulled over last month, and given a citation for registration. The person who's car I was driven, had neglected to pay it. It's not really important to figure out "why" he or she hadn't paid, or taken care of it for so long. In fact, I think it's best if we just kind of gloss over this, clearly, accidental mishap, and look at all the good qualities that this person has. Qualities like: good blog writer. (maybe. I guess we don't know for sure) and good car driver. Registered OR non-registered.

Anyway, I feel like our scientists over the last several years have kind of dropped the ball. I've seen depictions of what it's supposed to be like for us these days, and it's a little depressing. We're not even CLOSE! I don't know if I should be mad at our inventors, or the scientists. They both need a good long talking to!

As I was saying, I was feeling a little down by the rate of technological advancement when my buddy shows up with an orange juice box. He pulls off the straw, and it's looks a little short. That teeny straw was putting a smile on my face, when my buddy looks closer and sees that the concept of that simple straw, had finally evolved. It's like and old pirate ship scope or a little light saber or something. It extends into double it's length. Pretty awesome. Here's the thing: I was pretty convinced that everything related to the human straw had been invented, when out of blue, I get blindsided by it's greatness. I thought they had outdone themselves in the straw world when they made the bendy. It was a thing of beauty, never to be rivaled.

Never say never! Apparently.

Tired

I'm tired. That may have been apparent from the title of this entry. You may have noticed also, that I have switched from merely numbering my entries. I will call these the "title" of my piece. It's easier for both of us that way. For you, because I'm up front and honest about the whole thing, and for me, because that's how it's listed on the page I'm typing on.

Dang. I kind of wish I called this entry "short", because that's what it's going to be. I'm tired, don't get me wrong, it's just that, I'm starting to feel like I should go to bed, and stop typing, thereby, making this, short.

Of course, you don't want to just test fate. It hates that. It's like God in that way. He doesn't want to be tested. Wait. I guess I don't know that for sure. I know he says, "Don't test me", but I don't know for sure about Him ever saying "I don't like to be tested." He's never been big on telling us His likes and dislikes. Has He?...I guess I'm not really sure about that one either. I mean, He'll certainly answer our test, if we put it out there to Him. Especially the ones where we come out looking like idiots. Maybe it's like a student, unhappy with the results of a pop quiz, approaching the teacher and seeing if THEY in fact, know any of the answers. And of course they do. And, on top of it, they get the attention of the other students in the class, not by calling their attention deliberately, rather, through speaking loudly, pointing out the really simple things I screwed up, and acting all jerky about it, not super obviously, but subtly, so that only I know what's going on, and he really only wants me to know, that I know that he knows........ok, I don't know what I'm talking about, and I fell asleep a bunch of times just now...

Poetry

Why not.

I look at this blog as a safe place.

A place where I can try new things.

Without fear.

It's ok to make a mistake.

To fail.

In fact, I've heard it said that if you aren't failing, then you're not trying hard enough.

I look at my life in awe, sometimes, when I realize all things I must be trying really hard at.

Working out. I guess I can tone down the effort on that one.

Writing that screenplay. I finally came up with a script idea that has me excited. It's been weeks since I've done that.

Well, I was excited about it. Now it's kind of boring, and I'm beginning to see that it wasn't that great of an idea. Time for a new one...

So I guess, I should try a little less hard at screenwriting.

What else...

Cleaning my room. I'm trying too hard there.

Doing my laundry.

Doing my taxes.

Returning phone calls.

Man. I didn't realize how exhausted I am.

I'm going to need some me time.

Wow. That was a pretty poem. I'm a poet! Officially now. Right? If you write one poem, then I guess you are. It's weird, because I don't feel like I know that much about it. You know? I mean, I have the spacing down, but my rhyming could use a little work. Oh well. I guess that's what next time if for.

I still feel like I have more to give. I know. Something more traditional:

Oh! Friday night!

You are a cruel mistress!

Caring not who I see you with.

Dressed in cold and windy clothing.

You make me wear my scarf,

when you know how I feel about scarves.

You abandon me, yet I hear your voice

mingled with those of strange men.

But, how can I blame you?

You are not my mistress.

I just wish you were.

In a creepy way.

Part 7

Well, this should be interesting. I screwed up the internet. Well, hold on. It wasn't my fault, really. Our connection was awful. It kept cutting out, so I decided to give it the old "unplug and plug back in" routine. Apparently, when you don't pay your internet bill, they send you some sort of "disconnect" notice. THEN, if you don't pay after THAT, they "disconnect" it. The thing is, nobody tells the router. Unless it communicates with the service provider, the router doesn't know that it shouldn't be pumping out service. So, here I sit, typing on my phone to make my daily blog entry. Surprisingly, I would say this turns out to be a win-win situation. I win, because I complete another day of blogging, marching on, towards my goal, and you the reader win, because you get another wildly fascinating read.

Actually, it might be fair to call this a win-win-win, because you ALSO learn a little something about internet routers. So, remember: If you get one of these "disconnect" notices, make sure you get a nice fresh re-start on your router the day before it shuts off.

And enjoy the free Internet.

Chapter 6

I feel like this just might be a chapter.

I finally did some writing today.

It was very painful, and it took a long time to do it, but I think at the end of the day, I'm going to look back, and be very proud of myself. A day well spent.

I was hoping to do it in the morning. But I had to check out a couple of really important things on facebook, like: anything somebody had commented or posted on another profile.

You know. You kind of can't get your day started without that caliber of information. It's just going to nag you all day.

I've also experimented with more spacing. I don't want my blogs to look like the back of medicine containers. You know how they just go on and on listing certain types of chemicals. Does anybody really read that. Actually, what am I talking about. I do. I like to read things. Like when I'm mixing up a protein shake. I like to see exactly how much water I'm supposed to add to a given amount of product. My brothers make fun of me for it, but I really want to know what it's SUPPOSED to taste like. I want to see what these guys have done with all their fancy testing devices and measuring sticks. I want to experience it, as it was designed to be tasted. Then again, maybe I'm giving these guys too much credit. For all I know, they are guessing on that stuff. You know who else does that? The people that make the Trader Joe's Post-Stickers. The back of the bag says to put 2 Tablespoons of oil in a pan and cook the suckers for 1 minute on medium. Then, you put 3 more Tablespoons of water in there, cover it, and cook it for 5 minutes on a low heat. I followed it exactly and guess what?! They're all soggy! I mean, what's the point of browning them if we're just going to get them soggy?! Idiots! So guess what?! I broke all sorts of rules and kept cooking it AFTER 5 minutes were up. Yeah. I even let the water evaporate... I kind of felt bad for that part. But guess what else?! They turned out pretty good. It made me think: How do these clowns know how I like my pot-stickers?! They never asked me?!.. I would have said "Not soggy." This was a case of being led astray by the package, which doesn't normally happen though. One time I was doing my over-reading, and I came across something that seemed sort of important. Actually, I don't remember if I read it on the package or just an article somewhere, but it said to be really careful when taking cold medicine. Sometimes people drink it and feel better, so they think if they take more, they'll feel even better. Seems to make sense, but apparently, if you take more than the prescribed amount, you can experience total liver failure and die, which is probably worse than the original cough they have. You know, the other thing that bugs me (apparently there are only 2 things) is the portions of food you get at restaurants. I always feel like I need to eat all the food on my plate. Like, that's how you know you're done: After you've eaten the proper amount of food, so that the food is not wasted. I think the food is wasted as soon as it's being committed to being cooked for you. After that, it's just a matter of you deciding how much of it you want inside of you for sustenance, and how much extra you want as lard packed on your body. Maybe it's just me, but I feel obligated to eat it all, so I'm not wasteful. Somehow I'm doing my part better if I can pack it around my bells. Seems like I pretty consistently do my part.

Crap. My blog looks like medicine contents.

Section 5

This is definitely going to be section worthy. I can feel it.

I've been falling asleep all day. I had to pack last night and didn't get into bed until about 2:00 am, at which point, I started to think up stories and I had to write some things down before those pearls were forgotten for all of time and eternity. Then I had to get up at 3:45 am to be ready for the shuttle to the airport.

I think my brain fell asleep. This is going to be the worst post ever. Maybe it already is, and I just don't know it yet.

I wish I could put shaving cream on my brains hand and then tickle it's face and watch it smear the shaving cream all over. That would be awesome.

That's all I can think about right now.

I'm sure I had more interesting thoughts today, but I pulling up goose eggs right now.

I'm back it L.A. right now. I had an audition today and I'm waiting for my back to get a little better so I can start to kill it at the gym.

... was THAT interesting?!

Section 4

I'm sticking with sections.

I know I had a bad experience when I first switched from Chapters, but I really think that this entry is going to be short but sweet. There are a few reasons for that: 1. It's late. I don't know how well I'm thinking at this point. 2. I have to get up in very few hours. I got called by my agents in L.A. for an audition for tomorrow.

Marsha wasn't too happy that I am still in Utah, and she, like always, questions my seriousness and dedication. It sounds like a good spot. ... Those dots just there, mark a change in thought, and I felt it only fair that I express it on the page. Let me explain:

I was about to mention what the audition was for, but then I remembered that it might be bad luck or something to talk about it. That's what people say anyway. You just have to go on those things and just forget about them, seeing as how this business is full of rejection, and you just have to kind of accept it, not take it personal, and kind of count on a certain amount of it. Not to sound pessimistic, but it's the nature of the beast. There are really too many factors in each audition to really take any of it personally. Then there's when people know about it and they ask you about it later. It's another friendly reminder that you didn't get that part. And it's even worse if it's not a cool part, and it was some dorky money making role that you just wanted. When people feel bad for you for those ones, it's really awkward. I guess it's not so much bad luck, and just a preemptive strike on lost of awkward moments. I've had a lot of those.

It's an audition for an Audi commercial. I'm supposed to be a cop. Yeah. That's right. It's a different kind of California-hippie-beard possibly wearing Cop. Sounds about right.

I'm excited about the artistic challenge ahead of me.

Wish me a broken leg!

Section 3

I'm experimenting with headings.

I switched it from chapters because they just weren't very long. Maybe once I get rolling, or I get a good topic, I'll switch back, but for now, I think section is better. Crap, maybe it's even too short for section.

I think I established that this will be something that I will be doing on a daily basis. My brothers got a good chuckle at my expense when I told them that I haven't told anybody about this blog just yet. A-holes.

People always say that when you get older, it gets harder to find a mate, because you get too picky. I don't know if I believe that theory. Actually, I DO know that I don't believe it. Well I believe that I don't believe it, anyway..... holy crap...what do I believe? I read one time, something to the effect of: "I don't write what I think. I write to find out what I think." So far I'm not finding out jack squat.

Today I was thinking that dating sure must have been easier in the Old West. (Is that a location? I didn't capitalize that at first, but it didn't look right) I think the whole dating thing was just simplified. We have too many choices. Maybe that's it. We get too picky, because we realize that we CAN. We see all the different varieties and styles out there, and we get into our heads that we can hold off until we find one that's juuuuuuuuuust right. Damn that Goldie Locks. I blame her....AND the people that continue to tell her harmful story. She didn't compromise. She wasn't about to eat some cold porridge. It had to be juuuuuuuuuuuust right! Well, what's wrong with wanting to be like Goldie Locks!? All you critics can just relax. I'm just an adorable kid with beautiful hair, trying to survive in a bear's world. And maybe I want to sit in a nice bear chair while I'm at it. AND I want it to be juuuuuuuuust right too!!

Anyway, I was saying:

Imagine you're some half decent looking dude way on the outskirts of town just whipping his ox, sweating, wearing some old stinky hat, digging in some rocky pile of dirt, trying to plant some seeds when your neighbor comes riding up in the distance for about 30 minutes, because he's on a horse, and he's lives way out in the middle of nowhere too. He rides up to you and he says "Hey, didya hear?" And of course you didn't because you haven't seen another human being since the snow began to fall last winter. But, you're polite, mostly because you're stoked that your communication with a person, and you say "no". And he's all "yeah, we finally got a teacher. And it's a woman." Suddenly your heart jumps, because from his description, she's everything that you had hoped in a woman. You already know that you guys are going to get along because of all the criteria are met. Boy and girl. After the celebration inside of you calms down, you start to get greedy and ask more details. Details that don't matter, mind you. But you figure, since he's here, and maybe he knows, you'd like to know a little more. "So, does she have a full head of hair?" He looks back and is confused because he just realized that in all the excitement, he didn't notice either. "Oh man, I hope she has her limbs and that they were developed naturally, that would be just great". Now, that's not a deal-breaker, it's more of just, bonus material really. Nowadays, if a girl didn't like the editing in Moulin Rouge, I just don't know if we're ever going to make it.

...dang, maybe I should have called this one a chapter.

Chapeter 2

Wow. My goodness how time flies. I just noticed that the day is almost over and I haven't made my post for today... so let's see... something interesting and smart that I can offer to you my loyal readers. Well, since I have no readers yet, I guess I can't really impress anyone but myself. So:

How to impress myself...

I know. I could use less periods. I tend to use those. Is that a problem with modern journalism? Is this considered journalism? I guess it's an online journal of sorts, so I guess yes. And I think I'll use those periods to my hearts content...... as long as it fits.

Chapter 1

Hello and welcome to The Pantry.

I am your host: Adam Johnson.

You may be asking yourself, why am I reading this? Well, you self centered a-hole, let me ask you a better question: Why am I writing this?

Now that I have stumped you dead in your tracks, I guess my job here is done. I'm glad too, because as I started to write this blog, I was confused as to why I was doing it. Then, the answer came: To stump you. It came so quickly, it even caught ME off guard, because I originally thought I started this on a challenge by DeVon, my friend on who's couch I sit even now.

Well, his challenge was to write every day. And that brings us up to date. I guess congratulations are in order.

Congratulations to me. And no thanks to any of you....