I was going to say 'sorry' for being gone and not updating, but apparently, I'm not the only one. So, fuck it. I'm not sorry. Heh. Anyway, about the rest of my trip.

Friday was boring. My mother grabbed Jr. when he woke up and fed him while I slept in a while and then I got up and we both watched a little bit of the memorial ceremony for Gov. Carnahan. I got bored and went upstairs to watch TV and took a short (5 minutes) nap. Later, I took Jr. to my old high school to look around and then showed him off to some friends in town. That killed most of the afternoon and then I headed home for supper. Like I said, pretty boring.

Saturday was the fun day. My dad and I got out to the high school around noon and had chili. The freshman or sophomore class was providing lunch for donations. Then we headed up to the football field. On the way, I had to stop and register at a table for the football alumni. The lady at the table made the joke that she was going to have to go "way back" to find my name. I just grinned and said "Yup, I'm old skool". I got my name tag and then headed up to the field. I hung out by the 'locker' room and listened to the coaches talk and then we headed back up to the field for the start of the game. My home town was puttin' a pretty good hurting on the other team before the first quarter was even ½ over so I decided to wander around and see if I could find any other alumni.

I ran into two guys from my class, turns out the only two to show up, and also met some of the other guys I played with. At halftime, they had us line up by our senior year season (mine was '89 even though I graduated in '90) and we walked out onto the field by year and then took our positions in line in front of the crowd. Even though it wasn't a really big deal, I felt pretty special. I haven't been recognized for too many things, if any, and this was nice. I liked it.

Afterwards, we retired to the gym and had some good food waiting for us, and then gathered for a group picture. It was cool. I wish I could have seen more people from my class, but I still got to see guys I haven't seen for almost 10 years. We all got together after the photo to make a pact that we're going to try and do this every 2 years. I think it's a good idea. For some of us, living in the past, it's a bit of an ego boost. I hate to admit it, but I need that.

Sunday was a nightmare. Jr. woke up at 10:30 Saturday night screaming bloody murder. I couldn't get him calmed down. I thought maybe it was his teeth, he's already cut two, so I stuck my finger in his mouth. Bad move. Little fucker nearly bit the tip of my damn finger off. My mother came down, scared the shit out of me by being all sneaky, and told me to fix him a bottle. After the bottle, she got him calmed down to where he would sleep. He was in my bed however and I kept an eye on him, nodding off and on. Finally, at 4:00 AM, I decided he's out and put him back in his playpen (crib) and I went to sleep. That, fortunately, got me out of going to church the next morning. I took a nice nap instead. My sister and her family came over for lunch, and afterward, we headed to KC to the hotel. Nothing really worth mentioning after that. We got to the airport at 5 AM, mom cried as she helped me get Jr. in the carrier and he slept most of the way home. Luckily, this time, I didn't have to change planes so things were cool. When I got home, the wife met us and we headed out. We dropped Jr. off at mother-in-law's for an hour or so and then went home and fucked like we were in a porno. That was nice. I'd missed that. Anyway, that's about it for my trip. I had fun, but was ready to come home.

While reading Uncle Bob's entry today, I thought about the one and only time I've ever really been in a "haunted house". It wasn't even really a haunted house. At least, they didn't call it that.

When I graduated from high school, me and three friends took a little road trip to Florida. Buddy, who I've talked about before, Shane (ditto) and Steve, who I'm not sure I mentioned. At the time, Shane and I were 19, Buddy was 18, and Steve was 17. Buddy, Shane and I all graduated together, Steve was a friend from school. Anyway, we had originally planned to drive straight to Florida, but as most well planned things go, we ended up deviating. Buddy's family is rather wealthy and they have a place down here in Florida, and before that, they used to come down every year. Well, during Spring Break the year before, Buddy had met these two girls, sisters, who had given him their address and said that if he was ever in Louisiana to look them up. So, as you guessed it, we planned our trip to go down through LA and then across to Florida. At first I was pissed, but then he said that these girls were hot, around 18 and 19 and that they were looking forward to meeting us. Ok, I'm in.

So, after driving for a day, we get to their house, but they're not there, they're at church. So, we kill time until they get home. Turns out that they lied to Buddy, they were only 14 and 16. I was ready to move on. After a short stop in Alabama to check out the USS Alabama, we got into Florida. Sadly, about the furthest into FL we got was Ft. Walton Beach or Panama City (I can't remember which is further south). Anyway, we'd been sleeping in the van and shit so we decided to get a hotel room. That night, we hit this place, I believe, called the Miracle Mile. It's like a small amusement park. And this is where the "not haunted house" comes in (I know, long way to make a point).

Now, I don't scare easily, but I startle at the drop of a hat. And I hate to be startled. You know, when someone waits until a tense part in a movie and then jumps at you and yells BOO! That shit pisses me off. Now, I'm telling you this because Buddy knows this. And we're going into this house at the same time. Most of the stuff in this "haunted house" were gimmicks. Like, a sign by a door that tells you to look up and when you back up a step to look up over the door, you step on a pressure plate that blows air up your ass. Goofy misdirection shit like that. Well, one of these tactics that they used in abundance were long, twisty passages that were lit only with blacklights and had glow-in-the-dark paintings all over them. They weren't scary, but were very disorienting. This will turn out to be a good thing.

Now, as I mentioned before, Buddy knows how easily I startle and that I don't like it so he immedialely, walks in, gets ahead of me and hides behind a corner. I come around, he jumps out and yells, I jump back and fall down. Now I'm mad. He's just getting started. He takes off running down a dark hallway past day-glo aliens and skulls and I tear off after him. The halls end up to be one long back and forth. You'd run down one long hall only to make a 180 turn at the end and head back the opposite direction in the next hallway. And this place was full of them. So, off we go. Around one turn and then another and then another. Buddy staying far enough ahead of me that I can see him just before he turns the corner. And then the funniest thing I've ever seen happens, and not to me.

As Buddy goes tear-assin' down a long dark hallway, I see him slow down, turn to his left and then *BAM* he runs head first, smack dab into the wall. Remember how I told you the halls were lit only with black lights and how they had all these fucked up things painted on the walls? Well, one of these fucked up things was a door. A very realistic looking door. Buddy went zippin' down the hall full speed, wasn't sure where to go, saw the door and sped to it. Only, there was no door there. I almost pissed myself I as laughing so hard. We meandered our way through the rest of the house (which was rather dull), Buddy holding his head the whole time. And that was pretty much my one and only foray into the realm of "haunted houses". And go figure, it's one of the funniest, not scariest, memories I have. Leave it to Buddy to take the scary out of a haunted house.

Well, that was a totally shitty entry, but at least I'm back and updating. I've missed it. I would have updated yesterday but I was just too worn out and it's been bothering me since. This diary is like an addiction for me. Anyway, I'll try to have something more read-worthy next entry. Till then.

"Where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?"

Icebear

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