Here's a quarter; can I get 3 more?

It hit me the other day. I'm almost 25 years old. A quarter of a century. Here are some thoughts I have about this:

I always wanted to be married by 25. As I have just 56 days to accomplish this, let's go ahead and chalk that up to being an unsuccessful dream. Clearly, it's time to change the goal. 27? 28? Yikes, I could be in trouble.

"Derrick, you have plenty of time..." Blah blah, hibbety jibbety.

A moment occurred last night at the High School basketball game in Pretty Prairie that made me want a daughter. I seem to have these moments more and more lately. Something about a little girl sharing a laugh with her dad--who is just two years older than I--causes me to be overcome with a mixture of hope and jealousy.

Here's a sad, yet powerful song that I've always loved. Enjoy.



I didn't set as many New Year's resolutions as I probably should have--I usually go through a stage every few months where I attempt to better myself by doing certain things. So I'll work on it for my birthday. While I was unprepared to do it at New Year's, one thing I plan to do is cut out all pop-drinking on my birthday. Ahem, March 6. I do love pop, so it is tough, but one thing I'm very proud of about myself is my willpower. So I have no doubts about my ability to do it. I will not drink pop for a year, at least.
My record: 1 year, 2 months, 3 weeks, 3 days. (Dec 10, 2007-Mar 6, 2009).

I think it would be awesome to live to 100. I hope I'm only a fourth of the way through. I am already thoroughly convinced that I will not die of an illness of any kind. I'm never sick even a little bit--most of you hate me because of this. So unless the Big Guy decides to throw some irony my way (entirely plausible), I'm relatively certain my demise will come from old age, or an accident of some sort. Just a theory I have.

Other monotony:

- I had an entire blog written last night about the recent epidemic in collegiate football, with coaches losing jobs due to alleged misconduct toward players. Erased because I know few if any of my normal readers would have even cared. Short version: Big whoop. If you can't handle it, don't play. Sissies.

- Still haven't figured out how to put background music on my blog (as opposed to inserting video clips, etc). I'm hoping to figure that out soon, so y'all will have some regular background tunes to accompany your reading. If anyone knows how, or has some song suggestions, send them my way. Or if you'd prefer not having any...?

- I may not blog again until I finish my current book. Unless of course I come up with something more meaningful to say than what I've written lately. I've lagged behind a bit lately and am still only on page 93. Hopefully in the next week or so, I can knock out a much more substantial chunk of the book.

- NFL playoffs start today. My team went 7-9 and didn't make the playoffs, but it's still exciting stuff. If nothing else, something to get me closer to baseball season.

Do the right thing,
Derrick

[insert holiday fire joke here]

This blog will be short and sweet. Not sweet like in a tasty way--like candy, though. Mmm, candy...wait, where was I? Oh yes...

In the spirit of the New Year, new beginnings, habits and whatnot, I've begun reading again before bed each night. Hopefully I can keep this trend up. The current book of choice was actually a Christmas gift from mom in 2008. Only on page 60, but very gripping book so far...


For those of you who don't know, here's a short summary:

Pat Tillman was a star football player for the NFL's Arizona Cardinals. After 9-11, he decided to give up millions upon millions of dollars playing professional football, and join the Army Rangers. He was killed in Afghanistan on April 22, 2004. The circumstances leading up to--and following--his death are perhaps more intriguing than his story itself.

Other bits of randomocity:

- Happy New Year to you, too, Mr. Fireman: Hung with my friend Teri at her place in Wichita. Big fire in her complex forced everyone to evacuate, and sit around waiting for about 8 hours on firefighters to do their jobs. Quite the ordeal for those involved. I'd personally been there before (see: Christmas Eve house fire--2002), and actually felt a bit guilty not having much at stake this time around. But alas, New Year's 2010 was memorable, if nothing else.

The moral: You should probably never invite me to hang out with you on a holiday--your place of residence will more than likely catch on fire.

- Someone just gave me the Byrd: On December 31, my Cubbies finally got themselves a center fielder--Marlon Byrd. Welcome to Cub nation, Marlon.

- Just call me Mr. Productive: I did not spend way too much time today editing my blogger layout, only to end on one that I'm still not sure I like enough to keep. OK, yeah I did. *Sigh*

- ...or Mr. Sneaky: Let's see if you notice a difference, a subtle nuance, if you will--in this blog. I'm probably not as sneaky as I think. Still, indulge me, won't you?

- I kind of want to say something about _____, but I can't (or won't): _____...see? Told you.

Anyways, I'll try to write something more substantial soon. Until then...

Do the write thing,
Derrick