Alex's Blog of Awesome

Name My Journal!

I think I might con one of my sisters into wood-burning something onto the cover of my (wooden) journal (it’s made of wood!) (wood!).

I was thinking of something like “The Autograph Book” or “The Awesome Book of Signatures” or “The Da Vinci Code II - Rise of The Silver Surfer”.

Any suggestions?

"It's Made of Wood!"

My journal arrived! My journal arrived! My journal arrived!

It’s smaller than I expected - but it’s made of juniper wood and smells awesome!

By the way, I’m well aware that no grown man should be this excited about stationary - much less smelling it. However, I don’t care because it’s made of wood… awesome-scented wood.

Wood!

Drunken Men With Brooms.

I went curling for the first time yesterday.

Contrary to what you may think, curling is actually harder than it looks. It’s even harder after a couple of beers.

My team consisted of me, my dad, and Matt Damon from “The Informant”. We only won one game, due to a technicality rather than skill, but we had fun. I must say though, middle-aged men get awfully competitive and serious for a sport where falling on your ass is a constant.

After curling, we had dinner. Since this was work event for my father’s company, I knew no one there. Let me just say right now: I hate small talk. It’s weird and painfully forced and makes me even more anti-social than normal. If, at any point in the dinner, one of the cute daughters of my dad’s co-workers came up to me and said “My vagina just farted”, I would have been ecstatic. At least that would have been interesting and I would have had follow-up questions. I would have been able to form a deep, personal connection off of that. Much more than talking about the weather at least.

So here I am, the morning after. To say my legs are sore would be a serious understatement. Walking and/or standing under my own power has become an interesting challenge. Thankfully, due to the invention of the Lazy-boy and the Mystery Channel, that shouldn’t be too much of an issue.

As for curling, I’d definitely do it again; I had a lot of fun sliding around on ice and hitting things with my broom. Alas, I’m moving to a country that has never seen curling… much less ice.

Maybe I could start my own Indonesian curling team, kind of like the movie “Cool Runnings”.

“We are the Indonesian curling team!”

Yeah, I like the ring of that.