Photoblog: Swollen Toes (Part 2)

What follows is one hundred percent fact. I would swear to that, if it were not for the two relatively minor embellishments for literary effect. See if you can spot them.



…So on with the story… or rather series of events which inevitably led to two damaged toes.




Where were we?

Oh yes, The Spanish Inquisition. No Wait. We were past that.




Manifest Destiny.




Fast Forward




Penguins… oopse Rewind.

Concert.




Sand.




Penguins






Bar fight.




There we are. Gambling. No wait, I covered that.




….ah yes.

Upon returning home, the grind started again. But there is respite. And it comes in the form of giant aardvarks…



I mean giant baseballs, which we shall affectionately call softballs… Because when people get bigger, they get softer, generally.




So there I am playing a game of baseball with oversized balls. What a fun break from the normal work week (or weak… pending what I'm told to do). My coworkers and I don our black shirts and black caps and head to the field.



Amber joins as our expert amateur photographer.



She documents my impressive talent at bat. I won't say that I am great, but every time I get up to bat, I hit the ball, sometimes out of the park, but I blame that on those pesky foul lines.



While I may shine at bat, I am something to behold in the field, not because I am so damn good, but rather because I am the epitome of sadness out there. One might be inclined to believe that when I field, I am playing an entirely different game—Dodgeball.



But I really do try. It's just sometimes I'm busy drinking my beer, or it's the fact that the last shot of tequila has me seeing two softballs… one of which I always catch. Unfortunately, it is often the imaginary ball.

Eh, so what if I am an offensive player. I know that I have fun. In the end I look at the winning team, not as the one that has scored the most points, but rather the team that has managed to consume the most drinks… that way I am always a winner… and often the most valuable player.




So how does this all relate to my toes?




It's really quite simple. You see on my team is a coworker by the name of Vanessa. I went to a concert with her. Well first I went to a concert with my dear friend Ula (Lauren)



...which is a-whole-nother story.

Through a series of events, leading to more ups and downs than bedsprings in a Swedish brothel have seen, I found myself at the Decemberists concert out at Edgefield.



Colin Meloy, the lead singer started the show by making the remark that he would start out with the happy songs, but "Fear not, there will be death, oh yes, and plenty of it."

Well there was. As if Edgefield doesn't already carry a haunted past for me. While I was there, I saw Grace Buderus,



who as you might recall was the maid of honor at my wedding. I heard her say my name to a friend, and then turn a blind eye to my presence. Whatever happened to civility…to be humored with acknowledgement, a wave or a nod? Oh well, the night will not be ruined.

But wait, was that "Jericho"? Why yes it was. "Jericho" is the best friend of a former co-worker and quasi-ex-girlfriend of mine. This means that she was probably there.

And then, during the show I stood behind who I presumed was the twin sister of one of my dearest friends who moved to Hawaii, and has since stopped talking to me.




But I would not be broken by all these ghosts from my past. I resolved to enjoy the show, which I did. However as I was leaving, I passed Katie,



a friend who recently decided that I "irritated her and bothered her friends." (Ouch)

I left the concert feeling rather dismal.

But things looked up. I had another concert coming up; to remind me that concerts don't all have to be filled with drama. Unfortunately they do. I was interested in seeing "The Dandy Warhols"



with Amber, but she was set on never going to a show with me, as a result of repeated drama surrounding the shows I attended. I asked until she got upset… resolving to accept her firm stance.

A day after she told me to ask someone else for the twelfth and final time (slight exaggeration) I asked someone else. Two hours later, Amber says, "I was thinking that I've carried it long enough, and if you haven't asked someone else, I would like to go see 'The Dandy Warhols' with you."

Crestfallen, I told her I had asked someone. She quickly dismissed her interest and encouraged me to enjoy my time at the show with Vanessa.

The show arrived on time. Vanessa did not. The band played late. Vanessa did not.



As she had a migraine, she left early. I enjoyed the concert, but I chalked it up to another summer concert that did not go as planned.

Now, you ask, what does this all have to do with my swollen toes.





In due time.


------------------To Be Continued.