The Trivial Pursuit of fun up-north*

I've recently noticed that some of my pals stopped blogging due to their...what's that word I'm looking for? You know, that thing people wake up grumbling to go do...um...tip of my tongue here...ah, yes - a job. If your employer really has enough down time to Google you in the middle of the work day, I can only assume your job is not that secure. Besides, unless you're writing about suspicions concerning your boss of diddling the mail room chick or insider trading, I think you're in the clear. Having little to no concern for my current employment status, I will freely admit that the 2 burglars bosses running the joint are tip-toeing the line of most poorly managed firm in the greater Milwaukee area. I'm pretty sure they are aware of this so it's not really malicious libel, right? Look at it this way, if blogging gets me canned there's another job opening for you! Uncle Haru gave me some future employment suggestions anyway. I'm suppose to be looking into gas station management and the exciting world of solar energy. Considering my qualifications to take on either of these endeavors is on par with my aptitude for bio nuclear engineering, I think I just found my dream job(s).

Plans to go up-north this weekend. (Up-north being my house located north-ish, less than 3 hours away.) I don't particularly enjoy these weekends since we built the house. We used to have a trailer on the land, thus forcing everyone to find entertainment in the woods. As Swiss Family Robinson as this sounds, I prefer the rustic creativity of events. When we were little we would catch grasshoppers and recreate their natural environment in a giant cardboard box filled with dead leaves, a stuffed animal for entertainment and usually a shallow dish to drown swim in. Sometimes we'd play pioneers and I'd make delicious meals of questionably poisonous mushrooms and berries. Long walks to the lake through tick infested woods, thus ensuring a good hour spent "tick checking" afterwards. Hell, we even had tick races! (Rules: Draw a circle, pull a tick off your neck and place in circle. Whichever tick leaves circle first gets burned with a match.) Now we tend to sit indoors and watch movies, play games and isolate ourselves from nature. I always find myself wondering why we drove 3 hours to do what we could have done in our own homes? Seems pointless. We rarely even have campfires. Well that's not entirely true. I make campfires every night, but no one feels compelled to join me in staring at my wondrous creation. This gets boring rather quickly as my mind turns to bitter thoughts towards the band of city slickers in the house, ultimately forcing me to abandon my efforts and join them in Trivial Pursuit. Which by the way, is one of the worst games ever made. I'm not a fan of activities that highlight my lack of obscure knowledge or my first grader level of patience. (I used to swallow the little pie pieces when I was 12 little so that no one could win.)

I do enjoy spending time with my family, but no one wants to sleep in tents anymore, so we all end up on top of each other in the house the entire weekend. Our house is a moderate size, but we're cramming an entire little league team's worth of people in there. Not to mention, this weekend there will be 8 dogs, 6 of which will be in the house. I'm a dog lover (not really, I love MY dogs) but we're kenneling a band of unstable misfits with emotional issues. My dogs are as picky as I am in choosing friends and will completely shun any canine that doesn't conform to their high standards of doggy excellence. I know for a fact one of the dogs vehemently hates most people and smells funny. Seany's dog is the largest and has the uncanny ability of making you feel bad about yourself (Aunt D swears she gives her dirty looks). She's still a pup but has the capability of taking down a lion. Should be interesting in a house filled with dogs the size of large gerbils. The other 2 dogs are up in the air, but I'm pretty sure my dog Rebel once made them both cry. I'm envisioning a poop filled weekend of finger pointing and UFC level brawling. Thankfully my dogs are the quickest, so I'm not too concerned. There might be some tears and mental breakdowns though. Standby.

*I agree, this title is both clever and capable of inducing a hearty groan. Your welcome.