hanu | needless to say, we're needles in hay

Höstlovet är till ända. Imorgon bär det av till Kil igen. I sju veckor. Sedan är det jullov. Om 37 dagar kommer Alicia hem. Det är inte så mycket. Ju färre dagar det är kvar, ju närmare känns hon. Idag mötte jag Alicias föräldrar, de höll med.

Julklappshandlandet är redan långt gången. Jag har hittils köpt sex julklappar. En till pappa och fyra-fem till Alicia. Och mer ska det bli, jag är på inget sätt färdig. Jag vet inte vad jag ska köpa till mormor, morfar, farmor, farfar och mamma. Till Alicias föräldrar har jag några idéer, och Rickard får lite pengar insatt på sitt konto lagom till jul. Jag tror att jag kommer att hitta bra julklappar till allihop. De svåraste är morfar och farfar. Dessa gamla män, de skyltar inte så vidare värst med uppslag till julklappar. Och om jag skulle fråga morfar t.ex. så skulle han komma med de mest billiga förslag han kan komma på, som en öl. Men jag ska allt komma på något.

Nu sitter Rickard på ett flygplan mot Malaysia tillsammans med Fredrik och Philip. Resan går under namnet "The undispleasant Journey of perpetual summer". Det blir konstigt att han inte är här i ett helt år. Men det blir säkert roligt för honom. Om man önskar följa deras resa kan man söka upp Ricci på resedagboken.se eller kanske titta in här. Får se vart det dyker upp lite bild och text först.


Jag avslutar med ett blogginlägg från en rolig basketspelare vid namn Gilbert Arenas. Basket är hans yrke, men knappast det enda han sysslar med. Hans blogg är väldigt läsvärd. Här kommer en historia som gjorde mig glad.

Reminds Me of a Story

This is kind of a feel-good story, in a sense. I had a friend in high school, named Eddie. We called him 'chicken wing' because he was skinnier than Tayshaun Prince before he came into the NBA.

There was five of us and we had our own little team when we were 14-years old. Well Eddie used to always say that he could dunk. Every time we'd show up to the park and he'd already be there he'd be like, 'Oh man, I dunked it today! I dunked it today!' And we were like, 'Yeahhhh, rigggghhhht.'

This used to go on for years. It started when we were 14 but then we were sophomores, juniors, seniors and none of those years he could dunk the ball.

So when I went off to college and the summer before my freshman year, I got a phone call. My friend was on the other line and he's like, 'Yo, Eddie passed away.' And I was like, 'What?! What happened?'

And he started laughing.

So I was like, 'What the hell are you laughing for?'

He goes, 'It's funny, but it's not funny ''

'OK, can you explain why the hell you're laughing?!'

He was like, 'Well we were playing five-on-five ''

'All right ''

'And Eddie went up and dunked it and he got so excited that he collapsed.'

And you know what? I totally forgot about him dying and I was like, 'Eddie dunked?! You got to be kidding me. He really dunked it?!'

They said he really dunked it and he got so happy he finally dunked in front of his friends that he passed away. He died right there on the court we grew up on.

For a kid who plays basketball, if I had to pass away, that would be the way I would want to pass away -- like if I won the championship and I was so happy that I passed out right there.

That's a memory that I can always live with.

He didn't pass away from a gun shot or this or that. He passed away doing something he loved. It wasn't a feel bad story when I first heard. I was so excited that he finally proved us wrong and he dunked, and he was so happy that he finally proved us wrong and he dunked that he passed away from it.

His favorite player was Allen Iverson so we buried him with an Allen Iverson jersey and No. 3 was actually going to be my number going into college, but it was already taken so I had to go with zero.