An abomination in a pull-up

It was a cold, gray, dreary morning. I was on little sleep, and the scalding cup of coffee I barely managed to get down before I arrived had yet to kick in. Still, I did my best to entertain my sister's twins. It was going fine; I was just checking out the rug burns on my knees from crawling on carpet faster than anyone my age has any right to...when it happened. Twenty four years, five and two thirds months. My time on this earth when it all came crashing down. When everything I knew, everything I'd felt, the sum total of my very being ended. When my niece Hannah gleefully waddled her little cheeks over and shouted "Change me, Jonny!"

Shit.

No seriously, that's what I was dealing with here. I knew it was coming. After chasing both of the toddlers around their playroom and letting them tackle me me for what seemed like forever...I guess she worked something loose. When we went back downstairs to watch Lilo and Stitch (again,) Hannah made her way over into the corner of my sister's front room and demanded I leave her alone. I've never had kids, don't really want kids, but I knew what was happening. I tried my damndest to coax her out of the corner, maybe she could pinch it off and wait till mommy came home...no luck. Instead she insisted, with tears in her eyes, that I leave her alone. When I asked if she wanted a magazine she gave me a look that would turn most people to stone. Ok...no magazine.

So a few minutes after she's done her business, she waddles in to the kitchen and declares she's ready to be changed. I contemplated, at least for a few seconds, letting the little tyke deal with it until her mom and dad got home. A quick check of the clock, though, shot that idea down. I can be mean, but not mean enough to let her sit in her own turd for another two hours. So I bit my lip, picked her up, and held her out at arms length as I took her upstairs to the changing..uh, place. I have to say I was somewhat weirded out by being walked through the diaper changing process by the one whose diaper I was changing, but looking back I think it was probably easier that way. It wasn't messy, there was no crying involved, and she even had herself half wiped by the time I got back from tossing the diaper. My first diaper change ever was a pretty painless process, I'd have to say.

But I'm never doing it again!

(Obligatory cell-phone pic of when I had to get their costumes out for them)

Now it's like this, little breeches...

If there's one thing I'll always need in life, it's a canine companion. It doesn't even have to be mine, but a four legged friend living with me can be the difference between sinking into the depths of depression and, well, keeping my head slightly above water. I feel like I've been fortunate to live with a dog for the vast majority of my life. Aside from the college years, I've always had a Max, Charles, Maulie, Trigger the Psycho and my new German Shepherd guard dog, Aili. Technically she's my sister's dog, but as soon as I moved in she defected. It really blows my mind how quickly she's taken a liking to me. The first thing Aili does when Emily wakes up and opens the door to their room in the morning is come to my door and start bumping it with her nose until I open up and her in. She's already loyal to me; she gets jealous when I show affection to other dogs and when another dog growled at me at the dog park, she got all up in his face like she was gonna kill the punk. Truly I gots a way with the bitches.

At least, the ones on four legs.

I had this long list of things to do when I got Salt Lake that included, you know, important stuff. Like getting a job. Or maybe checking out the dating scene. But it seems like I check off one item on that list per five episodes of Dexter, or a couple sessions of Star Fox 64. Somehow when I moved here, I became addicted to a game that I got the Summer I turned twelve which features a mercenary force of a fox, hare, toad, falcon and a robot helping out a planet of dogs being invaded by an evil ape warlord. That's right. You can't make this stuff up. Despite the ridiculous premise, it's actually an incredibly fun game, and getting the required score to receive a medal on each level was something I labored at for weeks back in the Summer of 1997. This time I did it in a few days, since playing is like riding a bike. The difference is, in '97 I didn't have a care in the world, and I could sink as many hours as I pleased into a game. The Jon Holmes of 2010, though, is probably risking his financial future by prioritizing space dogs. Oh well. Waiting for something to fall in my lap hasn't failed me yet!

I dunno if I can't take this seriously or if I'm taking it too seriously.

I'm starting a blog, Hank Moody's (and my) worst nightmare. God help us all.

I'm doing it out of purely selfish reasons though; I really doubt I'll pick up any sort of following or inspire anybody. My real motive is to force myself to write something, anything, in the hopes that doing so will help me in re fining my craft. I graduated from Utah State University in May 09 and, as of January 2010, I haven't written shit. I've been stuck playing around with the same few stories and made little progress on getting anything together I'd want to submit to a publisher. Well, here's to hoping the blogging world can help get me out of my funk. And if someone reads this and enjoys it, well, that would be nice too. It's also worth noting that I intend to review a ton of stuff here, so this inaugural post may be somewhat unique.

It's kinda hard to look forward without looking back. 2009 was an interesting year for me: I became a college grad, quit two jobs, bought a mountain bike, had three short (i.e. failed) romances and, right at the end, moved from the nurturing college town of my adult infancy to Salt Lake City, the big city around these parts. Putting events into a list like that seems to sort of gloss over the huge ups and downs they represent in my life, but each one had its own impact on what I'm doing with myself these days. Maybe future blog posts will allow me to elaborate further.

For now, though , I'm just getting started in the SLC. Really, it's about the size of the suburb I grew up in back in California, but it feels big after spending the rest of my adult life in Logan, a town whose population is half USU students. Going to Smith's Marketplace last night was quite a wake up call (and quite a clusterf**k, I have no idea who organized that place,) even though I'm from one of the bigger metropolitan areas in the country. Still, for living in a city I'm not having to deal with too many of the problems that arise from that. I can park in a driveway, I have a huge backyard with ample storage space, and my roommate is my sister Emily...so I don't have much in the way of surprises there. Also, Emily has a young German Shepherd who already considers me her best friend, and everyone who knows me knows I love me some canine companionship. And I can't say enough about the shower in this place. It is mirrored on all sides, except the curtain side. Yes, front, back, side and ceiling are mirrors. I can't decide if it's the kinkiest or coolest (or both) thing I've ever seen. There's nothing like getting in a shower and being able to look at your white ass being mirrored in front of you.

Now that I'm all settled in, my new quest is to find some gainful employment. Gainful meaning pays better than the average Mickey D's, which I hear actually have fairly competitive compensation...