Still Here

It's been a tough week here at the office, but we're surviving. Haven't got a whole lot to say other than that.

Shout out to Karen for housing me when I was in CS, Nick's gone for good, so I was nearly homeless. Props to Nick for his first day on the job. Talked too him at lunch and all was good.

Clinton and I solved a tough case this week in regard to some suspicious activity we saw. We really should open up a Detective Office.

Last topic to address is the number of people that read my blog through facebook. Just to let you know, this is done through Blogspot, facebook imports info from here automatically. I'm surprised at how many people told me they read it. I don't know if they ever comment on it though as I dont check facebook very often. http://chriswilson06.blogspot.com/ is the best way to have me read any comments you make. Word to all my readers, I'm looking at you Ched.

Alright, longer, more thought provoking post coming in the future, I promise. Until then, let me share with you a blog that Karen sent to me asking "Is It True?":

Look…

I’m about to shed some light on the bizarre brains of men.

This impending enlightenment is the fruit of 30 years of male observation.

So go get your cute little journals girls...oh...and your colored pens.

I wish what I was about to tell you was something incredibly fantastic, but you see, that’s one of the illusions called man.

When you are single, you think that men are mysteries waiting to be solved.

You think they are deep because they’re silent.

You think they are strong because they are solemn.

No. Not hardly.

Men are very easy to read.

They are quiet because they either don’t know what to say, they aren't aware they are supposed to be saying something, or they weren't even sure you were talking to them in the first place.

They can be calm, grounded and solemn because they don't know they should be trying to impress you, even though you’re practically hula hooping with your hair on fire to get their attention.

Here’s a little known tidbit about men that should alarm you.

Got your purple pen?

They all play this game in their minds called, "The What If Game."

For the first half of my life I lived with a brother who would randomly say, "What if we had to walk backwards everywhere we went?" "What if we had to chew our food 50 times, spit it out and then eat it again?" "What if dogs could talk, but only in French, so we still couldn’t understand them?" "What if I had to sleep with my legs sticking straight up in the air?" "What if this roll of wall paper was stuck in my forehead? I would be like a unicorn. How would I put on my shirts?"

That was my life with Jason.

I thought I would be saying goodbye to this WASTE OF TIME thought process once I finally got my new double consonant name (I would have married a man with the last name of Hoogleberry to obtain this).

Wrong.

After I said, "I do," I quickly said, "This cannot be happening." I got married and found out that Aaron plays the same insane little game. I don’t know why, but "The What If Game" makes me want to hit him in the face with a cookie sheet.

He and Jason were both so serious about their "What Ifs." That's the most unsettling part. They really and truly expect you to begin problem solving over these made up scenarios. Really. I'm not joking. They see nothing wrong with logically trying to solve an illogical problem.

Aaron will pick the most inopportune times to amuse himself with the what ifs. We'll be getting ready for a birthday party or for company to come over and it will hit him..."What if I were a goat?" I'm trying to hurry, and he's chewing on napkins.

How are we still married?

Moments before I catapulted myself out of the bed to type this man betrayal, I was lying there next to my husband. He looks at me and says with his jaws clenched together, "What if I couldn’t open my mouth ever again."

Unfortunately I don’t keep cookie sheets in our bed. I will from now on.

I made a loud, "UGGGGH."

I then told him I had to know what is wrong with men. Why do they do this? It must be all men, because I’m no mathematician (actually, I can’t even tell time properly) but what are the chances that my brother and husband BOTH play the dumb "What if Game?"

Aaron informed me that he and Mike have already discussed this and they both do it and think all men do. I had him immediately call Allen. Allen was my only hope. I thought for sure Allen would not partake in this pitiful past time. Even Allen does it. Allen.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why waste brain time thinking about what ifs…and not what ifs that matter. They aren’t trying to save the world in case a meteor strikes. They are not endeavoring to solve global warming. They aren't trying to lower our gas prices.

They aren’t even trying to get ready for this "what if"… "What if the electricity goes out?" I don’t think we have one flashlight that works around here.

Oh no.

They spend their time thinking about if their legs could only fold backwards, or their skin was inside out or if everyone had to keep their wallets in their cheeks.

Aaron informed me that one time when he was taking a bath (I can’t believe I’m even saying that since I hate that everyone knows this sad fact about my darling husband) he took a whole bath not using his arms because on the way into the bathtub, this thought unfortunately crossed his mind..."What if I didn’t have arms."

Why?

Why?

Why?

He even came to the conclusion that he would have to invent a faux arm that stuck out of the bathroom wall so that after he squeezed the shampoo onto his head, using his feet, he could rub his soapy head up against the prosthetic fingers. The phony fingers would aid in the lathering process so his hair could be nice and undandruffy.

What?

So, ladies…if you have ever thought that men are a mystery, now you know that they in fact are…just not an exciting mystery…more like a disturbing, what the heck is wrong with them mystery.

Fess up boys, you know you do this.

I’m so on to you.

So on to you.
posted by Hendrick Family @ 5:45 PM

I did not know this was a huge mystery ladies. I thought it was widely known... My response to Karen was:

Unfortunately Karen, this is true. Here's a question for you. Do you think Nick and I would have dropped out of Accounting if we spent more time studying and less time asking, "Hey, what if I was sitting here across the table from you and all of the sudden a guy broke that window and pulled you through it? Would I keep studying? I think I would."

This What If game also affects camping preperation. "What if we need toilet paper, what if we run out of food. What if we need a shopping cart on the 4 mile hike??" Thus, extra toilet paper, extra food, and a shopping cart were taken to Lake Somerville.

How do you think we keep ourselves entertained? We don't sing Kelly Clarkson songs in our head or play matchmaker. If you know Nick and me, you should know that this game is constantly played and eternally fun. It is the basis for many in depth conversations as well as arguments. I never knew this was a mystery to you, I thought it was the way things were... Maybe it's the Boy Scouts' fault. "While ya'll are baking brownies, we're taught to "Always Be Prepared." "What if I need to skin a rabbit?" goes hand and hand with "What if I couldn't walk, but could only hop around like a rabbit?" And remember, there's only one way to skin a rabbit, but there are lots of preperations to make if you wake up as a rabbit. What would you eat? What kind of clothes would you wear? Would you move into a hole? (The rent is cheaper...)

Alright, later on peeps.