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As a married father of two, I don’t get to go to as many concerts as I did when I was a free-wheelin’ teenager. My lovely wife has been gracious enough to accompany me to a few shows over the years, and I’ve always had a blast. I love her for taking one for the team to spend time with me doing something she knows I enjoy. It’s epic amounts of brownie points.

A few weeks ago, we went to go see Barlow Girl and Benjamin Shafer. The tickets were a present from my mother-in-law; however, my wife agreed to spring for the upgrade to VIP tickets. That’s when the lulz ensued.

We showed up nice and way early for the show to go to the VIP event. After sitting around the lobby for 15 minutes, surrounded by 14 year old girls, we overhear someone say the VIP meet & greet hullabaloo was down the hall. We go down, expecting to find some adults. We found them, escorting their 12 year old daughters. It was the most awkward half hour or so of my life thus far. My wife and I surrounded by little girls during a Q&A session. Granted, this is a band comprised of three girls. But they’re all in their mid/late 20s, like myself. I didn’t expect it to be a 7th grade party.

We then moved into the auditorium and waited around for an hour with nothing to do. Older people started showing up, and the balcony started filling up with teenagers, which left me feeling a little less weird. Apparently it was just the little girls parents and my wife who shelled out the VIP tickets. At least I got a cool souvenir pass.

Benjamin Shafer opened up the show. Even though he did a really short set, it was great. I hadn’t ever heard of him before but immediately recognized him as the front man from a local band, 10th Hour Calling. We ended up getting his CD later. (You probably should too. It’s great!)

Finally, BarlowGirl came out. It was worth the wait and humiliation. They really rocked the house and delivered. Like a schmuck, I forgot our camera and was able to capture some horrible video and pictures on my cell phone. To show you how bad they are, this is the best of the batch.

It really was a great show, though. Very cathartic with a lot of the stuff we’ve been going through lately. Words of truth were spoken. Jesus was proclaimed. And I got some Barlow Girl drumsticks.

Rawk.

So, if you haven’t been blessed with the opportunity to rock with BarlowGirl yet, check ’em out. Buy some CDs. Become a fan. If you do, maybe my wife and I won’t be the only people over 20 willingly at the next show.

On a personal tangent, I’m waiting to hear from a potential employer later this week on a decision. I’ve got my fingers crossed. I’m really loving the time I get with my girls, but, financially, we’re going to what’s left of our savings in another paycheck or two. Then, we’ll be in real trouble. So, if you’re inclined to pray, it would be most appreciated.

I’m still waiting to hear from B-town, Sarpy County, and Papio on cop jobs, but those won’t happen at least until March. I’ve preliminarily signed up for testing with OPD, much to my wife’s chagrin. Their testing process takes 3 months to even finish though. I liked doing them all in one day better. :/

Mosecrest out.

Since I’m home more during the day now, I’m privileged to see more day-time basic cable classics. PBS is pretty good from 6AM-7AM. Just a few minutes ago, we were watching Golden Girls. You know, it was boring when I was 10. HIGHlarious now. The highpoint of my morning, really. (Yes, it’s a sad existence.) So, we’re at the breakfast table and my daughter looks towards the TV and utters the most profound questioning of the stimulus in front of her. “Daddy, is the girl in the pink a boy or a girl?” I told her, “It’s a girl, sweetie.” “Well, it kind of looks like a boy.”

Of course, she was referring to the lovely, beautiful Bea Arthur.

Well, today was a good day of honest, hard work. We took care of business, got stuff done, and made it home through the ice-storm in one peice. It was also my last full-time day working with my good buddy Bob. With the economy tanking, there really isn’t going to be enough work going forward to keep me around, and the schedule was taking its toll on both my wife and the kids. I’m needed around here more than I’ve been able to be. We also need to pay bills, so I’m still looking for another job until Bellevue PD, Sarpy County Sheriffs, or Papillion PD realize how awesome I am. Technically, I still work there, but (extremely) part time. I’m effectively on-call for nights and weekends. When the other guy is out of town (like today) or doesn’t want to go out at night, I’ll take care of it. It’s a good arrangement.

I applied for a help-desk job yesterday, that may pan out. If anything, I’m overqualified for the position, but not so much that it should prevent them from considering me. If you know anything about my self-deprecating nature, you know that I’m not a braggart by any stretch of the imagination; but, this company would be foolish not to hire me for this position. We’ll have to see if I can make them see that.

Coming back to the ice-storm, it kind of hit me out of nowhere. I guess that’s what I get for not watching the news. I didn’t have an ice-scraper in the car, and both of the driver’s side windows were covered with ice. So, I carefully drove to the gas station and proceeded to humiliate myself. I started the gas going and went into the station to purchase an ice-scraper. I also got a Bananas Foster Cappuccino. (Fantastic by the way!) Then I went back out to the car. I put the coffee in the car and start scraping the heck out of the windows. I finally got them cleared, got back into the car and pulled away.

Did you spot it?

That’s right, I drove away with the gas nozzle still in the tank. I’m not even a woman. How is that even possible? I got 5′ away when I heard a thunk. *CRAP* I turn around and, sure enough, there’s no hose hanging from the pump. I get out and find the nozzle still embedded in the tank. I put it back and tried to reattach the hose. I then take a walk of shame into the station to confess my sin. The two girls manning the shop were both watching and one of them was apparently already on the phone with a maintenance guy. I stop and say, “You both just saw that happen, huh?” 😐 Luckily, they make the hoses idiot-proof these days. They shut off and disengage at some sort of release nut. They let me know it was okay and sent me on my way. I screwed it back in to the best of my abilities and slowly drove away with my tail between my legs. The worst part of this is I can no longer make fun of other idiots who do this.

On the good news front, my mother-in-law was super enough to buy us tickets for the upcoming BarlowGirl concert. We’ve got a babysitter lined up and will make a night of it. Yes, I love BarlowGirl. They are my escape from the Christian Hardcore/Metal world, yet they still rock. Check ’em out.

You’re welcome.

Mosecrest out.

I don’t have anything positive to report, so, in lieu of yet another Debby Downer post, I present you with this:

pwnt

Peace

Boy, oh, boy. My foot is killing me. I bought a new pair of running shoes on Saturday and some insoles to go with them. To break them in, I decided to go on a nice long run yesterday. I did 4.5 miles, but about halfway through, I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. By four miles, they were screaming. I really hope it’s the insoles I got with them. They have a really high heel, which I think was putting more pressure on the balls of my foot. Since that’s exactly where my regular insoles are designed to take the pressure off, that’s probably why my right foot is still on fire this morning. I’m going to lay off it for the rest of the day and probably not run tonight. It’s my day to lift anyway.

I’m probably going to suspend the running and lifting altogether Wednesday or Thursday. I’ve got a big day on Saturday and I don’t want to strain anything or risk any injuries. I’m in the best shape of my life right now, taking into consideration I’m almost thirty years old. (God help me.) Still, I have no idea how I’ll do. I’m pretty confident I won’t have a problem, but there’s still nagging doubts. I’ve got butterflies right now just thinking about it. I have to remember that everything that has brought me to this point appears to have been pre-ordained. Every time I’ve thought about not going through with it or examining other options, God slams those doors shut and gently brings me back onto this road, like a shepherd guiding a sheep along the path. “Stop trying to wander. Stay on the road upon which I’ve placed you and see this through.” I have to believe that if He has worked the circumstances to bring me to this point, He’ll help me rock it. If you want the cliche, “If He brings you to it, He’ll bring you through it.” It’s campy, but it works.

I’ll see you, Saturday.

Reason #438,238 to abolish the IRS. Tax season. My life will become infinitely easier April 16th. Well, maybe the 24th. :\

“Rock chalk Jayhawk” is the stupidest chant I’ve heard in my life.

Pepperonis are awesome. Way awesome.

6:00 AM runs are fantastic. They fall second only to 1:30 AM runs. At least that I remember. Haven’t had one of those great nights in 7 years. :\

:\ is the best emoticon ever created, other than Orangeface, #dslr, WP, RIP Logwind, OP, SP

That is all.

April Fools.

Yes, it was lame.

Mosecrest out.

That is all.

So a few weeks ago, I had not shaven for a few days and decided I would let it go until my wife called me on it. By the time she complained, I was sporting a respectable beard. It was still young, but established, so I continued to grow it. Last night, I augmented it; partly to tick her off over an argument earlier yesterday evening, and partly just for fun. I shaved just one razor’s stripe down my chin, resulting in some odd pseudo-redneck-fu-manchu. The results were exactly what I was looking for. She was ticked, and I looked awesome. By Kati’s bedtime tonight, Leigh Ann put her foot down and told me she wouldn’t be seen in public with me until I shaved “that stupid beard”. So, I acquiesced. Kinda. I promptly went over to the sink and began shaving. Little did she know, I was only unleashing the full power of the fu. Now, my awesomeness is impossible to calculate or comprehend.

BEHOLD!

Sorry for no updates in a while. In lieu of a real update, I present you with:

Holla