An End To An Epic

Well, I finally had a chat with T.B. Seems that most of my fears were unfounded. It wasn't a game (at least on her part) and after a few exchanges of "I'm sorry" between the two of us, things seem to be on better footing. She has apparently moved on from "Mr. Obsessive" and I must say that I am glad. She is a great friend and along with the angst that I was feeling, I was also concerned for her. From what little I've been told, I had a reason to be. So, I have a friend back. I told her about this blog because I'm horrible at keeping secrets and I knew she would find out sooner or later. She seemed amused. At least amused enough to ask if she could give her mother the URL. Great, now my friend's mother gets to ogle my sock picture. I have nobody to blame but myself. Anyway, welcome back to team Chad T.B.

In other news, I'm planning a little trip to Florida. The airfare from Nashville to Tampa was $39 one way and after putting $40 worth of gas in my car yesterday, I decided that I had better take advantage of the cheap flight. So, I'm gonna fly down, do a little fishing and take in a couple of Devil Ray games. Hopefully, I will find some time for the beach in there somewhere too. "Sugah" is gonna go with me. I'm not sure that she is interested in fishing or baseball, but she seems content to spend time with me.

My 20 year class reunion is next weekend. I won't be able to go because I am on call. I'm not really all that broken up about it. I went to the 10 year just to see who had hair, who got fat, and who had more kids than fingers. It was pretty sad. The high point of the night was talking to "Charlie" who was kind of a mousy braniac in high school. He was the Salutatorian I think. After exchanging pleasantries we got down to the "so, what have you been up to" business. Charlie paused for a second and said "I'm an agent with the U.S. Customs service." Instant boner for me. I was shrieking like a little girl "Let me see your badge! Let me see your badge!" Pathetic on my part, but that was the most interesting thing that anybody I graduated with has done as far as I'm concerned.

I got a notice in the mail today from the local blood bank. Seems they want me to make a deposit. I feel so used for my O+ blood type, but it did remind me of being poor in college. "How is that?" you might ask. Well, I have this HUGE hole in the inside of my left elbow from giving plasma for drinking money. In those days, they would give you $12.50 each time you gave and you could go twice a week. So my buddy Jorge and I would always go the second time at the end of the week and then head straight to either Bash Riprocks for quad night (four drinks for one, not that they gave you four drinks, they just put four times the liquor in a big twenty ounce cup) or we would wander over to the Annex for buck night, dollar pitchers and ten cent hot wings. On top of the cheap liquor, we were a tad hypovolemic and a very cheap drunk. When I think of the small amount of scratch that I used to live on and be happy, it boggles my mind that I make what I do and still want more. I guess that proves the old adage, "the more you make, the more you spend."

Seacrest out.