Jarrod Needs ______.

Inspired by Elisa Beeson I googled "Jarrod needs."  Heres what I need according to google. TOP 10.

1. Jarrod needs a lip ring. 

2. Jarrod needs a new cell phone. 

3. Jarrod needs all your prayers.

4. Jarrod needs a room. 

5. Jarrod needs none of those explanations. 

6. Jarrod needs to be given more detailed and challenging assignments. 

7. Jarrod needs to regularly dominate VFL games this year. 

8. Jarrod needs female vocals and screaming guitar licks. 

9. Jarrod needs a ride to his hometown to fight his high-school nemesis. 

10. Jarrod needs a home in Cape Town. 

This is awesome. Google " (your name) needs."

Random phrase

Wonderful cloud stress really about?

Pretty crazy event just happened.

I wake up this morning and can't open my right eye. "What the hell" (Statement, not question). I rub my eye with my palm in a twisting fashion while making my way to the bathroom. 

"Wow, that is shocking." I think to my self. 

My eye is swollen and is covered in a yellow goo. Thinking straight at this moment I grab a nice white towel. Well, it's not a nice white towel any longer. I start inspecting at a comically close distance from the mirror. Blood shot and irritated, my seeing mechanism is presumably stressed out. 

"Crap dude." I say that out loud in a slightly whining voice, elongating the pronunciation of "dude." I start running my finger over the surface of my eye ball which doesn't really bother me since I wear contacts occasionally. My eyes are used to being handled. "Ah." I wore contacts last night. But I knew I had taken them out. 

"Ah, nice." Shaking my head as in agreement. I didn't actually see the one from my right eye pop out but only figured I had dropped it. It was midnight at the time and I held my hand up covering my left eye then switching to my right eye and everything was definitely blurry. "Boom. No contacts in my eyes. Lets go to bed." Thats what I say every time I take out my contacts. "Boom." Followed by "No contacts in my eyes. Lets go to bed."

Anyways, I start pulling my eyelids out and blink. I felt something. There is something there but I can't see it. I actually, no joke, jam my index finger underneath my eye. It's surprising how far you can go with this. 

"Freakin sick." Emerging was a folded contact (I wear soft dailies). A folded piece of rubber/plastic emerging like a worm from underneath my eye. I didn't think it was possible for this to happen. I've always been afraid of my contact working its way behind my eye and causing some massive brain infection. 

Life is short. It could be shorter because of soft dailies. 

(After doing a bit of internet research I pulled this quote from a optometrists website. "If you think you have a contact lens someplace in your eye, and you can't find it, call your eyecare practitioner." — Dr. Dubow

Yeah. Maine.

I'd love to spend a summer in Maine. I could become a lobsterman for three months of the year. Waking up before dawn, fry some eggs, grab my cup of coffee, leave a note for the family and head for the docks. I would love that. Board a creaky wooden boat, catch my bearded reflection in the water below and breathe in the salted air. That would be wonderful. Drop traps for the first part of the day and pull traps the rest. Dock the boat just before evening and peel off my waterproof overalls. Yellow waterproof overalls. I'd look down the wooden walkway and see the smile on my wifes face as I  bend down to hug my daughter. I'd take them to the pier for dinner and some salt water taffy. On the weekends we could search the beaches for driftwood and starfish. We could spend afternoons sitting beside famous lighthouses. We could have picnics and eat ice cream on a cone. With sprinkles, chocolate sprinkles. Thats what I would do if I could spend a summer in Maine. 

First 20 minutes of my workday. 7/01/08

nothing special, really random 

Sandy sand.

The ocean is so far from

these eyes,

these ears,

my senses.

Beauty. Sound. Smell. 

Raise thy voices all yea seagulls

fill the air with your freedom

let me hear.

Waves, crash and linger

bring all thy memories.

Tell of thy journey for I shall listen. 

Clouds, dance. 

Sun, set. 

Moon, rise. 

For day shall pass and night just as fast.

A glimpse I take at my fighting past 

a sadness of loss and love and belief 

and security and freedom and confidence 

and direction and foundation. 

I picked a leaf from a tree. It hasn't dried out yet.

"Do all you can do." A note that Vincent Layton had scribbled the day he found out he is losing his mind. Red ink on a blue Post It note and jammed in his levi's pocket. He was on a high which was unusual for the situation. So what if the doctor had also diagnosed Vincent's grandfather. So what if Vincent's grandfather turns up lost every few weeks. He's always been found. Besides Vincent is only 29 and he has a four year old daughter who needs him. There is no reason for him to be afraid of anything. He has things to do. 

wow.

filing cabinets made of crappy particle board and wrapped in vinyl oak print. my feet tingle a bit while sitting in office chairs. a mind is a useful wasted thing. flowers that bloom and work their way through snow. a huge condo with ocean views and a seagull. feeling hungry my stomach tells me. forward thinking. this tree has limbs so tiny, so many, it looks like the vascular system of a living thing. flies buzz a bit. thinking hurts sometimes. a cat prowls. lazy ass. don't hit me in the back of the head. this too is a running man. fifth grade bubble gum tattoos are stupid. 949-718-3557. french fries.

Finally got an IPOD

I could never bring myself to spending ~$300 for an Ipod so I took the plunge and got an new but old IPOD Nano off Ebay for $40. I'm pretty happy with it, 2 gigs is enough to hold a grip load of songs and the thing is freakin small and light so that's nice. 

LOST

I've been wanting to blog about this for a while but really it is just too overwhelming of a task. I can not do it justice within a post or even one hundred posts. More than a few times I have stared at my blank blog post and backed out because I just can't do it. Can't do it. It's like trying to break a Tupperware bowl. 

So this is only a tip of the hat from me to LOST. I watch you every single thursday and talk about you to all of my lostie friends and even those friends that do not watch it, although they just shake their heads and smile at me like I am slightly crazy. They just don't understand. 

The freakin show is a masterpiece. 

If you have not seen it or if you have seen an episode here and there and then proceed to flipping the channel because it makes no sense to you. Just rent it. Start at the beginning (Season one, episode one) go from there and you won't look back. Actually you will look back quite often but you'll understand that when you start so don't worry about it now.  

(sigh)

Best show ever. 

Man Bag

Satchel. Messenger bag. What do you think about them? 

No coffee outside.

Snow falling in April

the flakes melt in an instant

as the sun somehow throws itself

through these clouds.

Above my head 

in front of my eyes

but not underneath my feet.

The ground is not white

it is not dry.

The ground is covered 

with the remains of hopeful snowflakes. 

Ready Set Go. #1 (two minute session)

A song bird sings as if it scratched the score
to a life that claims the pulse of my heart
breaking through the air surrounding the skin
that holds my insides inside...

A mistake that's easy to make
when two eyes are so unsure of what they see
and two ears unsure of what I think they hear
the music pulls me away from myself
revealing twisted ties of unsurprising lines
drawn in black ink or possibly blue
depending on my mood...

Is this the way that I love you?

One of Gods wonderful gifts.

I have that fuzzy feeling. The state where your body wants to lie down and close its eyes. Somehow gravity gets stronger. Coaxing me to fold my arms in the shape of a pillow. Such a great gift God gave us. Our very own personal portable pillow. Comes in handy at work.