I was...um...tagged?

So Katie tagged me and now I'm doing this little tag type game. To be honest, I secretly hoped someone would tag me as it would be easier to keep up with my migratory patterns.

Seriously though, I look forward to this.

As I understand it, the object is to describe myself using the letters of my name. I wanted to use my middle [since it has more letters] but La advised against it. So, what I've decided to do is to enact some Bushtitude [the aptitude of making up words - i.e. Bushtitude in honor of the 43rd president of these United States].

My name is as follows -

G E N E [I've actually had arguments with people, usually older ladies, who swear that my name is Eugene; it is, in fact, simply Gene - like Gene Autry or Gene Wilder, etc].

Googloid - [word origin = Google: to google, meaning to search, to inquire, to find + oid; suffix meaning resembling, similar to, like]. I use Google a lot; so much so, that sometimes I think I'm actually beginning to resemble the online search behemoth. Sometimes, I'll even pull out a vanity search [you're lying if you say that you don't, unless this is the first time you've used the web - if so, my bad].

Erroneous - [this word is not, of course, made up]. You may want to check out Merriam-Webster's definition on this - I contain error. Pretty self explanatory, but the more that age adds to me, the more I can see how wayward my mind and heart are. The "archaic" definition seems to apply to me as well - I love to lose myself in a place, or multiple places. I'm also prone to wander.

Night Owlistic - Not to be confused with Nighthawks [although I'm putting the pic up here]. This is a point where La and I can tend to butt heads [only sometimes though]. I am definitely a late nighter, and I usually require a few hours less sleep than she. So, when we go out, it's usually best to be in by 10, otherwise La's going to sleep in, but I'm still ready to be out. The converse of this is my uncanny ability to sleep anywhere. This ability has cost me dearly at times, unfortunately...

Ex-Alabamian - I don't say this as a cut, but as a matter of fact. I am now a resident of PA. I am a registered voter here [fyi: as an independent]. My vehicle is registered here. Most of my belongings are here. What comes as a shocker to most [maybe due to my asianicity? Maybe due to my lack of a thick southern drawl?] is the fact that I grew up in the cotton state. I grew up near a military base in Huntsville that afforded a diversity that isn't necessarily found state wide [I had many friends from mixed Asian American families, some Germans, Hispanics, etc.], but it is part of who I am in a historical sense.

Whew...now that I've done this, I'm glad it was over. Although it was something I've wanted, it's been the proverbial monkey on my back for the past couple of weeks - I haven't blogged anything because I've been wondering "How does this letter best describe me?"

Being the case, I don't know if I'll tag anyone else. I will however hold out an open hand slap - if you're reading this and want to be tagged, then consider yourself as such. Leave a comment that you've written about yourself and I'll post a link from my blog to yours!

Children.

Screaming. Children. Constantly.

Sometimes, there are children outside as late as one or two in the morning [yes, I've heard them because sometimes I'm up that late too] and more often than not I wonder where their parents are and why they're letting them out like that.

That's one of the funny things about our neighborhood though - children are out all the time. When I leave for work in the morning [sometimes before 6:30am], they're there. When I get home, they're there. When I go to sleep, they're there.

This morning Laura and I went to grab a bagel for breakfast at South Street Philly Bagels and I noticed that there was a lot of what appeared to be grease on my truck. If you're at all familiar with our travails, you'll understand that a lot of our life lately revolves around "my truck." I made mention that I bet that kids were playing around it [which has been one of my hypotheses for quite some time]. In our sickened state [as both of us seem to have come down with a cold], we shrugged it off.

Tonight's not too different - except for the fact that we've been holed up in bed for the past 4 hours - both of us coughing, both of us sneezing, both of us miserable.

But not the children - they're laughing, screaming, running...

And hiding in my truck...

Since both of us have been laying down since about four [watching The Breakfast Club on Netflix's watch instantly and then a variety of videos on YouTube], I decided to check the mail - because yes, the mailman sometimes runs after four. I turned on the outside light, unlocked the door, and peered out. I looked at my truck [it's parked in front of our home] and two small eyes peered back at me.

Caught.

I laughed. I asked if he was hiding. He nodded and slowly climbed out of the truck. I unlocked our mailbox - nothing - and went back inside. Laura and I laughed when I told her about seeing this small boy hiding out in the back of my truck.

I opened the door, saw him hiding down the street, and made eye contact. I told him that it was fine for him to hide there.

Sometimes it annoys me when I hear the kids running around. Sometimes it makes me question the mindset that goes behind their parenting. But in the innocence of a game of hide and go seek, it makes me wish I could run around with them [and not sit here feeling like my head is going to explode].

It reminds me that at some point the laughter of children points to a joy and a peace that's not here yet. Not for us anyways.

For them, now, it's pretty much all fun and games.