The Moore You Know: November 2009

Happy Thanksgiving from Ada and Jimmy Superfly Snuka

Click to see Ada in all her high flying glory. And the intricate leopard print detail in Superfly's spandex. Warning: One of those is cuter than the other.

May your Thankgiving be happier than that guy on the mat. Also, I don't want to confuse anyone so I feel like I need to let everyone know that Ada and Jimmy Snuka have never actually shared the squared circle together. This is an artist's rendering of how the situation might look. But if they had been a real WWF tag team, there's no doubt there would have been all kinds of records broken. Like Tim Tebow, only fake. But I'm sure Ada would have worn those black strips under her eyes with bible verses printed on them and would be atop the Google trending topics the next day after a championship match leading people to Christ by merely trying to protect her eyes from glares.

Letters

Dear Ikea Coffee Table,
I know you haven’t been in our living room very long, but you can’t put constraints such as time on our relationship. In a store the size of a small country, we picked you over all the other coffee tables. We hung out late that night the day we brought you home while I knit you together using the prepackaged hardware kit you so graciously provided. Just you and me, bonding over sweet tea, Cheez’um Pringles, Allen wrenches, and a little MacGyver season 2 on TV on DVD. It was wonderful, we were forming the perfect relationship: you helped me feel like a man by allowing me to build something, I helped you feel like a table by connecting four legs to a flat surface. Everything was going great, after a little time you became a great place to store my pizza rolls during football games and I never let Ada climb on you…we were clicking.

Then out of nowhere, 3 times in the past week you’ve stubbed my toe? What gives? Did I forget to take my shoes off before propping my feet on you? If so, I’m sorry. I really am Ikea Coffee Table, but this can’t continue to happen.

I have seen some Youtube clips of people breaking tables with their foreheads and I went to a Power Team presentation when I was younger. Is that a threat? Your call. I’m just saying, you were only $60 and we bought you with a gift card, so choose wisely my friend.

I’m not bluffing,
Scott

Dear Big Toe on My Left Foot,
I wrote Ikea Coffee Table a letter. I don’t like confrontation and am never really good at it. I’m nervous I may have been too harsh. I’ll let you know what he says. Hope you feel better soon.

Condolences,
Scott

Dear 8th Grade Timberland Boots,
We had a great run didn’t we? I still remember the day I brought you home. I also bought my first Gin Blossoms CD that day. It was a good day and I was very excited. I knew that next Monday at school, my coolness factor was going to be upped ten fold and I knew that coolness would last forever as long as I never wore you with shorts. And don’t worry, I know that it was no coincidence that the next week Coach Hester named me a starter on the JV football team.

You must be surprised getting this letter out of the blue like this, but I just wanted to write and let you know how thankful I was for you and that I never took you for granted. Some recent things have happened with someone close to me, I won’t name names, but will just say I thought they were solid and now they keep trying to trip me up. It has caused me to reevaluate some things. So, I wanted to make sure you know I am sorry.

I’m sorry that after all you gave me I let LB talk me into just giving you away to Goodwill. She was pregnant and all crazy and hormonal at the time and I think it was something that she called a “nesting effect.” Whatever it was, obviously her judgment was impaired. (BTW, we’re expecting our second now!)

Anyway, I hope you have forgiven me and are making someone else’s feet look awesome this very minute. If not, I hope you at least have a nice pair of Birkenstocks to hang out with.

Thanks for the memories,
Scott

Dear Hawaiian Sno-Ball In Front of the Piggly Wiggly On Sunset Dr.,
I don’t think I told you enough in high school, but you are awesome. I apologize for not telling you more than I did, but that was back when I was a teenager and thought I was better than everyone and knew that I was cooler. So, it’s really 8th Grade Timberland Boots fault. But anyway, I have grown up a lot since then and have really matured. Or at least gotten older.

Remember that time I got a ticket while in your parking lot? It was for going 49 in a 35 which was kind of lame. But you know what wasn’t lame? The large strawberry shortcake with extra cream I got right afterwards. I won’t lie, it was a bit awkward waiting in line right behind the officer that had just given me a ticket, but that is what you do, you bring people together. Your icy fruitiness is tasty enough to mend all burned bridges.

One thing I always wanted to ask you though, why did you charge $.25 to get “cream”? You called it cream, but everyone knew it is just condensed milk you can get 2 for $1 at the grocery store that you just put in your fancy squirt bottle. I understand that it’s a business and you had your bottom line to think about and that is understandable, but I always felt a little cheated. I’m just being honest and vulnerable here because I feel like it is important for a man and his Hawaiian shaved ice provider to have an open relationship.

Anyway, I would still get the extra cream if I had a chance today. It was worth it. I guess that is why you did it. You're smart Hawaiian Sno-Ball In Front of the Piggly Wiggly On Sunset Dr., you always were.

Stay cool,
Scott

UPDATED: Friday Confessions: 2

For a bit lengthier explanation of my Friday Confessions see here, but basically this my way of getting back at myself for involuntarily constantly pestering LB. To LB: I'm sorry.

This week's FC:

I made a wordle.

That seems weak to only give you that, since you probably already knew it. I guess I should add that I kind of enjoyed it...

UPDATE: I posted this a couple of hours ago, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it still wasn't enough embarrassing information, or embarrassing enough information, however you want to look at it. So I wanted to add something else. I tried to come up with something else that was borderline embarrassing but not too much so, hoping that two minor things would equate to one major. That was kind of hard to do but I think I got it...sometimes I hold a competition with myself to try and put my socks and shoes on all while standing up. Rules: 1) One foot on the floor at all times 2) No leaning on the wall 3) No excuses

Satan made an appearance. Asians even showed up twice. But no Ada.

Yesterday was my 2yr Bloggerversary. I didn’t want to say anything though since it was Veterans Day. I didn’t want to steal their thunder. Because I’m patriotic. Also, I would have wished everyone a Happy Veterans Day, but I am never sure where the apostrophe goes. Or if there even is an apostrophe. Is it plural? Possessive? Plural possessive? I'm not sure.

I wanted to do something special for my anniversary, but I couldn’t think of anything. I’ve been on a run lately where I seem to be focusing more on quantity than quality. (Not that I ever really produce quality, but when I post a lot at least I have an excuse.) I think I am on the tail end of the run though because my idea tank is running low. So, here is the best I could come up with: you can go to this website, type in your blog url, and it will create a “wordle” from your blog. Here is mine:

I must say "just" a lot. It's pretty big. Though I don't know if that is how wordles work. I don't have a lot of experience with wordles.

I was looking through it and noticed that Ada never even showed up. The whole point in starting this blog 2yrs ago was to bring Ada updates to the world. Overtime, I have gotten away from that. However, I do think with Ada being as active as she is, a survival guide to catching fire may come in handy one day. But still, I thought I would take some time today to let everyone know how awesome my daughter is.

I know the picture on the left looks elongated, but I don't know how to fix computers so it has to stay that way. My bad.

Yesterday afternoon we were hanging out on the couch, probably watching PBS, and my head was turned away from her. All of sudden she said “Hey daddy” so I turned around. She was holding her little miniaturized fist to my jaw so it popped me when turned my head. She began laughing hysterically and said, “I got you, daddy.” I’d also like to point out that I’ve never done this to her, so really it's like she invented that trick. So not only is she awesome, she’s a genius, too.

Two more quick Ada stories and then I’ll go so all of you can tell me how much this blog has improved your life over the past two years.

1) Ada will watch football with me now. Not the whole game of course, but she will sit with me for a good 15min taking it in. Her main concern while watching is the player’s ability to run. In between plays she constantly asks “why the putballs boys not running, daddy?” (She calls football 'putball', she's 2, cut her some slack.) Then they snap the ball and she gets excited, “They running, they running!” Someone gets tackled and we start the process all over again. It continues like this until someone scores, then she raises both arms and yells, “Touchdown!”

2) I remember back before I even thought about being married, I couldn’t wait to eventually teach my child to fist pound. The dream started years ago when I saw a toddler give his dad a pound at Niffer’s in Auburn and right then I thought to myself, “One day.” However, just like Ada had to crawl before she could use the oven handle to do pull ups, I had to teach her to give a high five first. But even lame kids can do that, so we quickly moved on to learn the fist bump, then we added blowing the pound up (see Andy Bernard), and now I think we have done what I once thought was the impossible. We’ve topped the fist bump. Just a few weeks ago, I taught Ada how to chest bump. It is everything you are imagining right now, then some.

I hereby vow to post about Ada more because she is 22lbs of awesome and I would be depriving the world not to.

Friday Confessions

I joke on LB a lot. A lot. Too much probably. I’m able to somewhat control it on the blog because I have time to filter. Unfortunately, we hang out a lot more than I blog. Not unfortunately. It’s probably good for our marriage that we hang out. However when we do hang out, I don’t have time to filter and I end up antagonizing antagonizing antagonizing. Most of the time I don’t even know I am doing it, it just comes out naturally. And I admit it’s like 87% my fault, LB makes it very easy for me so she does have to take some of the blame, but still.

I thought I would start doing something to keep me grounded. Starting today, every Friday I’m going to try to admit something somewhat embarrassing about myself. I know it won’t make LB feel better when I’m making fun of her, but it will make me feel better that at least I make fun of myself too. So, I guess it is kind of selfish. By making fun of myself, I am being selfish. We live in a fallen world, people.

This is my first confession. This commercial CRACKS me up:

Happy weekend.

Can you break your neck while sleeping?

I think I may have. Last Thursday, I woke up with a severe pain shooting down the left side of my neck. It was bad. It felt like satan playing the harp using my neck tendons. No, satan doesn’t play the harp. That’s angels. This feeling is not angelic. Why am I writing about this a week later? It’s still here. At first I believed it was just a crick in my neck. But that seems too pleasant sounding. I don’t think 'wretched demobilizing pain' when I hear the word "crick." For some reason I think of fishing? Maybe because crick sounds like creek? I don't know, but do cricks last for a week?

I can’t perform simple daily tasks. I haven’t been able to shampoo the left side of my head for a week now. The first couple days, I tried using a mirror, then realized I was just rewashing the same side of my head. Now, I just wash the right side of my hair extra well and comb it over the greasy parts. My driving is adversely affected as well. I can’t look to my left, which I now realize I’ve taken for granted my entire life and understand how much glancing to left comes in handy while traveling on the interstate. When I get better I am going to look to my left everyday, even if I don't have to. To get to and from work, I have started getting into the far left lane as soon as possible so I don’t have worry about changing lanes until I get to my exit. The hardest part is getting to that far left lane. I just turn my blinker on and give any cars that may be in my way enough time to move. No horns blowing means I’m good. It has worked so far.

The worst part is I somehow injured myself while sleeping. And I used to fancy myself as an athlete. I guess this is what I get for fancying.

3 Hole Punch Jim

I went as 3 hole punch Jim for Halloween. It wasn't that great, mostly because I am about 2.5ft shorter, 80lbs heavier, and have a lot less hair than Jim. Plus, all it is, is putting 3 black dots on your shirt. Even with it being that simple,I still don't think I really pulled it off. Just too different in the physical statures. That's ok, that is why God made Husky jeans. But every one at work was dressed up, so I'd been a Negative Ned if I hadn't done anything.

Since the picture was kind of boring, I decided to take advantage of everyone being able to see where I work. This is my cubicle. I made labels. You can't see them very well now that I uploaded the picture to blogger, though. Maybe you can click on it and make it bigger? I'll try to work on it tomorrow. It's late.