Pulled Ham, not Pulled Pork; + the numbers support viewership; and the demise of a course!

Since I have spoken to you, the viewer, last several things have transpired. As one would suspect that things have always and will continue to transpire this is no new concept. However, I say this in the sense of things worth mentioning have transpired rather than merely the prosaic.

My friend and class mate destroyed a vase that I purchased whilst (my wife and cousin will appreciate this) on holiday in Costa Rica. I predicted that this event would occur, with what has been described as unparalled prescience by another friend and classmate. I told "the breaker" a week prior to the "breaking" that he should closely maintain his bony elbows as to prevent the destruction of the vase that would happen a week later. Thank heavens we purchased two vases or we would be Costa Rican vaseless. I was not horribly upset, but mildly somber. It was more of a slow cooking anger. I think that henceforth I shall refer to this variety of anger as "crock pot pissed." Anyway, I was supposed to be studying with these fellas and ended up answering flash cards during the relatively fruitless process of re-assembling this clay item with both crazy and gorilla glues which cleary, upon viewing this vase, did not work as I had intended it would within my minds eye. The "breaker" assured me, more for the alleviation of his guilt than for my edification, that the vase looked almost as good as it had pre-disintegration.

SIDEBAR: Think of the word disintegration for a moment. Integration is 1 : the act or process or an instance of integrating : as a : incorporation as equals into society or an organization of individuals of different groups (as races) b : coordination of mental processes into a normal effective personality or with the individual's environment
2 a : the operation of finding a function whose differential is known b : the operation of solving a differential equation.

However, Disintegration is the blowing into smithereens of some item into a state of complete destruction.

Obviously the vase was not disintegrated because we reassembled many small pieces in something that more or less resembled the original piece, but not really.

Anyway, I should have been studying and this is what I did. Then, the other study buddy and I quizzed each other with more of these surprising and fascinatingly entertaining educational flashcards. I then went to futbol practice in the stiffling 98 degree heat where only 6 fellas showed up. 6 guys. W.T.F. It is hot, but what the F? happened to the love of the game? I was straight up P.O.ed. We played 3 on 3 until my body felt chilled and tingly. Cleary not a good sensation when the whether is hot enough for cities to promulgate warnings to monitor the elderly and the young.

Moving on, I came home and dined at a rib shack favorite of mine with the wife and Non-Breaker study buddy. Delicious and insiteful. We spoke about how we aren't scenesters and how delighted we were all by this fact. It must cost an awful lot of money to go "out" all of the time just so people will think that you go "out" all of the time. If this makes sense than listen to this one. I am an internal scenester. This is why my wife thinks that I am so fucking cool, and I her. WE STAY IN ALL THE TIME SO THAT PEOPLE KNOW THAT WE STAY IN ALL OF THE TIME. soooooo COOL. Anyway, things were starting to look up right?

I had gotten over the broken vase and my growing feeling that I may be underprepared for this stupid damn test that I had to take on Monday.

Sunday we woke up quite early to get breakfast before my first futbol game in a long time, a long time. Well, the first proper game in a long time. We had a wonderful, well, pretty good breakfast. The conversation is always good when I dine with my wife. I think when I dine with her, I am distracted by her good stuff and then rate the edibles perhaps with a higher regard than I should. Despite this breakfast was good. I then suited up for my game. Butterflies a little, but they disappear once I start. I was fucking rocking it. I am a defensive fortress and it takes about 5 minutes for whatever team I am playing with to say "[my name here] starts back center and comes out only for death or severe injury. He is an animal and we are glad that he is on our team. He will stop a ball with his crotch, face, knee, etc." Well guess what happens? 7 minutes before the half, fighting dispicable heat and an opposing team full of dickheads, I make a fast break and POP!

You know when you are watching a game and you see a player succumb to his own body and you watch in slow motion as it looks like an invisible monster is attacking a players body parts. You know what I mean? When the guy takes off and you see him fall because those invisible hands crush an invisible 2 x 4 into the back of his thigh. He drops and rolls still moved by the momentum he gained before diving. Well that happened to me for the first time in a long while. Usually I stand up and shake it off, but this pain was deep in my right hamstring. It felt like a bowling ball dipped in honey and rolled in broken glass was fighting its way out of my thigh from within and it fucking hurt, FUCKING hurt. I gave the hand signal for subbing out and looked like a one legged California Raisin doing that stupid dance where they move their hands around each other hobbling to "I heard it through the grape vine" with a stupid look on my face.

I hurt like a mo-fo, but being not only proud but thinking if I use the leg it will hurt less later I wrapped my thigh in a role of sports tape and went back out for the rest of the game. YOu know what? I was damn proud to do that and I felt a sense of self respect and gratification that I don't think I have felt in about 2 years. I have felt as though I have met little milestones and small measurables I have set for myself. I was proud of my 'B' in a difficult law school class. I was happy when my wife loved her Christmas present and I knew that she really was. But to have a team of 11 strangers that I met online and began to play futbol with look at me, knowing I was in severe pain, and see me wrap my leg and limp back out to that field and say "Damn, that is a hard mother," well that was just a palpable sweetness that I could taste and smell.........

And then I went to school to study. How anticlimactic! Anyway, after things were seemingly on the upswing, a proverbial punch to the balls.

Let us review the score.

Broken vase, impending final, the job that doesn't pay which leads to the running out of hard currency, and the recent hamstring injury that could rob me of my sweetness on the field VS. the great wife, the mild euphoria from almost winning the game, and the thought that the course is nearing end.

So, I study at school and bring the "breaker" and the other study buddy home to review for several more hours on the Sunday before the final. We review as I look for my power cable to my laptop. Where is the power cable to my laptop? Have you seen the power cable to my laptop? Have YOU?

WIFE: "No, I have not seen it. Where did you have it last?"
Me: "You know I love you right?"
WIFE: "Of course, I love you too."
Me: "Well, with that in mind, If I knew the last place I had it, why the hell would I ask you?"
WIFE: "You don't have to be an asshole you know."
Me: "Whatever, SORRY"
____

Me: "How about you study buddy?"
Study Buddy: "fuck you dude! Why don't you check "breakers" bag, he breaks shit and loses his shit all of the time, maybe he has it."
Me: "Fair enough, you don't have to be an asshole you know."
Study Buddy: "fuck you."
Me: "OK... dick" [under my breath]

Me: "How about you, is it in your bag?"
Breaker: "What?"
Me: "Forget it."

Anyway, I can't find the thing. I knew I had it at school, but thought it was in the house. It was in none of the usual places and so I call school. They don't know where it is.

Add this to my ass and thigh on fire and I am getting pretty P.O.ed. Needless to say it is now Tuesday. Again, I should be doing work but am not. I have since 1) taken the final, upon which I hope I did not shit the bed; 2) found my cable with the assistance of the wonderful Mary at the library of my school. I told her that I loved her and that her thouroughness had rejuvinated my hopes for humanity and saved me 79.95 in cold, hard, U.S. curreny, excluding opportunity cost and shipping; 3) realized that my hamstring injury is much better than I had hoped, as if I had torn muscle it would look as described by a teammate, as if "a bull had rammed its head into my ass,"; and finally, have gotten an 180 gram vinyl double pack record as a temporary sign of good faith by the "breaker" who feels more guilty than he should and is also having his mother, the wonderful woman that she is, purchase us something grand and ethnic from Egypt to replace the Costa Rican vase. Word up.

Final Score. GOOD. Leg is healing, class is done, broken item replaced, cable found, 80 dollars saved, "breaker's" guilt alleviated, I am attending a Chicago Fire Futbol game in lieu of practice which will force me to work on strategy whilst resting my leg, and I saw a friend that I have not seen in some months on the train last night.

I know that this has something to do with those lucky pennies that I found.

HECK YEAH.

I will talk to you loyal readers again in the near future.
I hope my cousin has her baby soon. She is patient, but this is ridiculous.
I will have pizza with my wife tonight.
I can ride my bike in the interim to strengthen my injury.

All is well with the world and 42 people have read my blog thus far. I think it is my wife just refreshing my page to make me feel good.
If you stop in leave a message for me.

Therefore,