Double Tagged

Apparently I'm so popular that I got tagged twice by and (I'm sticking with ten things about myself because I'm boring like that.) I'm also two years into this account and have yet to post a journal, so that changes today!

1. You must post these rules.
2. Each tagged person must post 10 things about themselves on their journal.
3. You have to choose and tag 10 people and post their icons on the same journal.
4. Go to their pages and tell them you tagged them.
5. No tag backs.
6. No bunk in the tagging section about "you are tagged if you read this." You legitimately have to tag ten people.

Welcome to ten random facts about myself! Now go post ten random things about yourself , , , , , , , , , and !

1. I blaim my gearheadedness on Herbie. Ever since I saw the little 1963 Volkswagen Beetle run around race tracks, I fell head over heals in love with cars. Since then it has spiraled out of control, checking up on autoblog and jalopnik every time I log on, spending too much time on Forza 3 (will buy Forza 4 when I have enough cash [and free time]), identifying cars at a glance, taking pictures of cars, getting my family to watch Top Gear, and talking too much about cars in general. Which leads to...

2. My dream car is a MkV Volkswagen GTI (2006-09 North America market, 2003-09 Euro market). As awesome as a McLarne MP4-12C is, or how usable a Porshe 911 is, they still stick out like a sore thumb and pretty much cry out to be either stolen or vandalized. The GTI can do everything well. It can go (relatively) fast in a straight line, it's dead steady in the corners (if Forza 3 is to be believed), it can hold four people comfortably, the seats can fold to carry bigger things, and it doesn't stand out in a crowd...at least not to you regular non-petrolhead crowd. Not my first choice for a road trip car (2011 Dodge Challenger thank you very much), but I think it would be a comfortable cruise missle. It would certainly be handy if I wanted to visit all of the places I've lived. Speaking of...

3. Before I turned ten, I lived in nine different cities (eleven different houses in total). Wasn't a military kid, Dad's job just required him to move a lot. Born in Chicago in 1986, I have no memory of the appartment where I spend the first few months of my life. My first memory would be at our home in McPherson, Kansas, where my brother was born. Then it was off to Houston, first in an appartment, then in a blue ranch house. Reason I remember it being blue was that it stuck out in the snow. (Yes, it did snow in Houston that year, though I grew up thinking that was the norm until I got a look at it on a map.) We weren't done with Kansas yet, as we moved back up to Kansas City into a duplex, where my sister was born into the family. One childhood memory I have is that the wolves howled along with the emergency sirens at night. Then, back to my birth state in the little town of Mendota, Illinois. Didn't stay long in the duplex house as we moved up the block to a yellow house. From the yellow house in Medota we moved to the Chicago suburb of Naperville were we lived with our grandparents for a year, seeing as how we coun't find a house that fit our needs until we found a duplex in Glen Ellen, another suburb of Chicago, where our littlest brother was born. The thing that stuck with me from those two towns was that it seemed like everywhere you went there was always construction, from the highways to the main streets. Two years in, and Dad got a job in Rockford, Illinois, so off we went to a ranch house in the best neighborhood that I've lived in. Too bad about the school system. Apparently all the propperly behaving kids were in private school, while the public schools got kids who when the teachers were out of the classroom they jumped from desktop to desktop (well, not all of them, just the one). And finally we settled down here in eastern Iowa, where I've lived for the past fifteen years. (If you ask nicely, I'll send you a note exactly which eastern Iowa city I live in.) That's not counting the appartment that I lived in when I interned at Disney. Oh yeah...

4. The community college I attended offered an internship at Walt Disney World. I figured, "Why not? Would be interesting to add to the resume." An interesting addition it is, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth for doing any more fast food jobs. Basically we interns were down there to give the regular working folk a chance to go on vacation or have sick days. Not to say that the job was total crap. We weren't given ridiculous hours (most of us weren't) or slave wages. In fact they gave us nice appartments to stay in, where I met some awesome people. And, on your days off, you got to go to Disney World! Just working at the Backlot Express (at Disney Studios between Indiana Joenes Epic Stunt Spectactular and Star Tours) things tended to get busy a lot, and working at Disney World, people expected the food to be there RIGHT NOW! When I got out of it, I vowed never to work at a fast food restaurant again.

5. So for the past four years I've been working full time, the majority of those years were detailing cars at a collision center. Now I'm working two jobs. One is through a temp agency that has me working at a warehouse at six in the morning building display cases for Rice-a-roni and the like. Not my favorite job. (Almost makes me want to go back to Backlot Express.) The second job is the fun one, working at a movie theater, selling overpriced popcorn and cleaning up the overpriced popcorn when they spill it in the auditorium. Despite that somewhat grim description, I love it there, my co-workers there being so fun to work with, and I get to interact with people having a fun time going to the movies. So why since the internship have I not gone back to college? Well, I really didn't have any idea what career I wanted to get into, until very recently.

6. Be it God's will, my dream job would be Product Planning Manager at Chrysler. Basically, I would be in charge of what cars came to market, working with designers and engineers to make cars. This is perfect for me because math and I don't get along well (need to be good at math to become an engineer), and my left hand is often befuddled by what's in my head and doesn't translate it well to paper. Already I have several ideas. (an entry level rear wheel drive car, a cheap car aimed older folks [based on the fact that they buy Scion xBs that are aimed at my generation], a small car that can actually tow a camper without struggling [specifically for the European market, and to get Clarkson to stop whining], a hybrid station wagon) Basically, make cars that people stop and stare at, something that would look good in a movie. A movie that I can star in. Almost...

7. Whenever I get bored (which is most of the time) and I'm alone (which isn't most of the time), I burst into sounds of gunfire, running around like I'm in a Michael Bay movie, taking cover behind objects and shooting at invisible enemies with my Nerf guns. (Admit it. Some of you still do that.) Even when I'm in public and I see an area, I play a little action movie in my head, wondering where guys would take cover, where the car would burst through the glass, how the fight would go down on top of a moving semi (I thougth of it first Wachowski bros!), and so forth. This even gets down to when I listen to a good song a mini trailer plays in my head. (Try not to have one play in your head when you hear Everybody Loves Me www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oyhjy… Frigga www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLAUMO… or I'm Shipping Up to Boston www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-64Ca…) Dangerous stuff to listen to when I'm driving, or in a fight with Nerf guns.

8. Which I have pleny to choose from. I have a REV-6 Mavrik, CS-6 Recon, REV-8 Firefly, and an IX-2. That doesn't include my two Super Soakers (yep, the clip loaded one in my profile picture) and my airsoft gun, but the trigger is broken on that, so it's reduced to glorified prop when a Bay moment siezes me. I've even got the accent to back up the secert agent thing. Sort of...

9. Apparetnly I have an accent. Not like a Southern or Norther accent, but a British accent. This, despite the fact that I've never been to fair Blightly nor do I have a drop of British in me. (Scandanavian forebears) This might have something to do with the fact that with some words, I like to inflict an accent. Like when I'm working at the theater serving popcorn I say "Large Dr. Pepper with a Bunchacrunch commin' oop!" inflicting a Scottish accent towards the end. All I know is that during a recent family reunion, Grandpa, Dad, and me all sound alike. Dunno if that goes for my brother.

10. Who introduced me to this site with this picture. jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/R… After I got a look at the awesome tribute to Top Gear, I started poking around looking at other Top Gear fan art. When I realized that some of it was the work of Mr. Jackson, I started looking at his work. Then I started looking at some of the work that he favorited. Then I started looking at more art on here. At one point I realized that I spend a lot of time on deviantArt, and that I might as well start up an account and show off the pictures I've taken. Since joining, I like to think that I've improved in my skill, without even glancing at tutorials. Just sitting back and looking at all the awesome art that's on here. I watch you guys for a reason. I'm inspired by your colors, your angles, your shutter speed, your line art, your concepts, all of it! And don't you dare quit.