you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

Coming home is always a let down.

And this afternoon proved to be no different. I was ok when walking through the door, still laughing as Jeff and I returned to Rose Avenue. Then I looked at the shit storm on the table. Consider the following: the mailman dumps his truck on your dinner table, a bad bakery unloads day-old cookies and/or pies, and an Asian market explodes in your living room. That was just the beginning of a bad, bad moment in time in which I pictured all of the shit cleaning that I would have to do in the next three days, work and otherwise.

But, my friends, perspective: Jeff was still there, thus, the weekend was not over…. and what a weekend we had in Chandler. Some highlights:

1. GETTING AWAY FROM ORANGE!!!!!

2. Going through Blythe (twice!). The second time we went through Blythe, the Chevron attendant was outside (in his orange vest) having a smoke. As we drove by, he took the cig out of his mouth just long enough to yell, “BOX CAR!!!” Yes, you are entirely correct… and you can credit Blythe’s public school system for that wisdom. Conclusion: Blythe is for lovers.

3. Halfway through the Seton dinner/auction, Blake had a great idea to start an “Ace” chant. Ace is the Americanized name that we gave to our mom’s fiance. He wasn’t sure what to do…. any of the 4 times we chanted. Conclusion: ACE! ACE! ACE! ACE! ACE!

4. The best auction/raffle prize I have ever seen was at the Seton event: A WALL OF ALCOHOL. Yup, everything you could imagine: wine, hard liquor, beer… it was all on the wall. Conclusion: there were 104 chances to win; my table bought 10 of them. We lost. We are angry.

5. Jeff went into Aldo and bought some sick high tops and some glasses that make him look like the white Kanye. Conclusion: Putting them on in the middle of the auction was a great idea.

6. After visiting Tiffany Lyon (who makes vodka drinks with 4/5 vodka, 1/5 cranberry), Jeff, Blake, and I were completely drunk. In fact, we had a three-way hug the entire elevator ride to the bottom floor. Conclusion: Tiffany = great bartender.

7. Blake decided that he was no longer going to talk with my mom unless she referred to him by his self-proclaimed rap name, Kibbles and Tits. Conclusion: not necessary.

8. Jenn was able to successfully deal with all of us this weekend. This is the second weekend in a row that we actually got to spend time together and be away from work… probably the best two weekends I’ve had this semester.

9. We spent Friday at two different bars (plus Tiffany’s). At the second, Jeff found two middle-aged women who didn’t exactly understand that he wasn’t going to be leaving with them… but they bought him drinks anyway. Win!

Lots more happened this weekend that I’m either forgetting or it’s inappropriate… so as it comes back to me, I’ll post more. All in all, this was exactly the weekend I needed. As for this week: it’s not going to be a pretty three days.

So, my friends, I will leave you with these two tips. First, if you’re unloading the dishwasher, be like me: put everything away, whether it’s yours or not; don’t be a beez and leave someone else’s stuff all over the counter. Finally: for quality tv, buy the cox bundle.

the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

I suppose I’m three months late in “announcing” this, but I’m engaged!

Not sure why I haven’t written about it yet, but it’s just one of those things that I wasn’t exactly sure how to blog about. There’s lots of topics like that which include – but are not limited to – my obsessive compulsive behavior and my mom’s impending wedding. Well, good news: I think that they are all coming together in my head and will be finely sewn together through this-here blog.

Let’s talk about my mom’s wedding. The following are the attractions of the weekend:

1. 2 Mexicans getting married on MLK, Jr. weekend (…wrong holiday?). One of those Mexicans ACTUALLY has a green card…. well, we think he has a green card.
2. The reception is at Serrano’s (if you’ve been to my house, we’ve taken you to Serrano’s). It’s awesome and I’m glad I’m actually going to get some good food at a reception.
3. There will be mariachis!!! You better believe that I’m going to request ‘De Colores’ and ask for a microphone to sing along. Mom, consider this my gift to you. Since there will be real mariachis, I have abandoned my original plan of dressing in a mariachi outfit for the ceremony and reception. I think this was a plot….
4. My mom’s last name will now be Murga… with excessive “R” rolling. Rrrrrrrramona Murrrrrrrrrrrrrga.
5. There is one wedding color: purple. I’d call it lilac, even. So maybe the theme for this wedding could be, “The Color Purple?” Appropriate?

I can’t really lie- the whole thing is going to be pretty weird. It’s even more weird that my mom emailed me about a month ago to tell me that she needed to clean out my closet. This must be part of the same process where she needed to move my bed downstairs and why I now (when I come to visit) need to sleep on an air mattress. I responded that she didn’t need to do any of that- she chose to do it because she is getting remarried and MY room is now going to Ace’s small Mexican child. The travesty! Life lesson: not even the things that are yours can be claimed for long – it’s all a part of the universal give-and-take to which you just have to submit, waiting for the “give” part to bring something better.

Speaking of give-and-take, I have my own wedding/marriage/rest-of-my-life stuff that I get to plan out. I’ve already been told that I’m not allowed to wear the mariachi costume to my own wedding. Damn. As with all events, there are some non-negotiables on either end. The following are mine:

1. I will absolutely not be wearing ugly, uncomfortable tuxedo shoes. My hopes are that I’ll be in some comfy Rainbows or Converse. That’s all. Can’t a guy get a little comfort around here?
2. There will be no feeling of mechanical rote or theatricality. This isn’t a song-and-dance for the guests – this is a joint celebration that should reflect our personalities, our feelings for each other, and our feelings for our guests. So many weddings I attend feel like a manufactured home: there’s a cookie cutter that made 500 other of the same thing.
3. And to address the “our personality” issue…. the following: when the groomsmen and I come out or are standing there or whatever we do waiting for the ceremony to start, we’re not going to be playing some lame song. I want them to play “Hail to the Chief.” It’s metaphorical. And awesome.
4. I don’t want some weird wedding website (again, very cookie-cutter); I want a blog. Where both of us can write from our own perspectives, post whatever pictures we want, have people interact with us… you know, like real life and not some “look at us up here on this pedestal we just built for ourselves!” thing.
5. They will play “De Colores” at the reception.
6. I’m toying with the idea of making a ranked invite list. As we save more money to invite more and more people, I will send out an email that says, “Congratulations! You’ll actually get to be invited now!” Not really, but that’s kind of how I feel as the wedding fund slowly (ever so slowly) increases.
7. It will be a party.

Aside from those things, I’m agreeable to most things. Now let’s hope that Jenn doesn’t dump me; fingers crossed.

I’m excited for everything the future holds (minus the possibility of the INS raiding my home in Arizona to find Ace)… but most of all, I think I’m excited about everything that’s not typically exciting. I’m excited for the day-to-day; I’m excited about making dinner together; I’m excited about being able to sit on our couch, watching our tv (football Saturdays, of course), in  our (very humble) place; I’m excited about not agreeing on how to furnish different rooms or how to dress the kids (in sweet baby-sized Converse  or Rainbows and argyle sweaters, of course); I’m excited because of the person that comes with all of this stuff.

You can’t always plan for things to happen the way they do – and, as much as it pains me to say it… sometimes that’s ok. Things have strange ways of working in parallels and giving more than they take away.

the novels of susan sontag are self-indulgent, over-rated crap.

If you’ve ever seen Bull Durham, you’ll understand why I use that as my title.

…that and the fact that I really do believe that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, over-rated crap and there is no way I’ll ever get to say that in another blog. So, inspired by one of the greatest baseball movies of all-time, I decided to detail what it is I actually believe…

I believe that the best smell in the world is fresh cut grass on the first tee.

I believe that what sunlight, water, and chlorophyll are to plants, beer is to man-friendships. For standardized testers out there —
sunlight, water, chlorophyll:plants::beer:man-friendships

I believe that we should spend more time recognizing brilliant contemporaries.

I believe the best sight I’ve ever seen is the hills of Assisi.

I believe in a thing called love… just listen to the rhythm of my heart.

I believe in throwing a fast ball down the middle of the plate in a 3-2 count in the bottom of the 9th. If you don’t challenge people with your best, why do anything at all?

I believe in paying it forward…. and reminding those whom you help that it is their future duty, as well.

I believe that everything should be counted in a series of points- witty comments +1, being a jack ass and not replacing the 5-gallon tank at the work water cooler -2, helping to find solutions to problems +2, avoiding meetings because you don’t want to talk about problems -3, etc. (I’ll develop something and get back to you… maybe my next blog).

I believe that R Kelly lied about his ability to fly… and about being with underage girls.

I believe that, no matter what room I ever get to sit in, the best gathering I’ll ever be able to be a part of happened every Sunday night during college at 6pm.

I believe that USC is over-hyped smoke and mirrors… sports and otherwise.

I believe that you have to be a closer.

I believe that the best meal you can eat is served at home with the people you love… it also wouldn’t hurt if it was something like halibut, asparagus, and garlic mashed potatoes.

I believe you must be present to win, and not just in 50/50 raffles, but in life.

I believe that good parenting is governed by how parents act towards other people… and not just when parents are “teaching” their children.

I believe in Pacifico, tacos, and Mexican Independence Day… September 16th, not Cinco De Mayo, you gringos.

I believe that you always have enough time to listen; it should be the thing into which you put the most energy.

I believe in going to church every Sunday and not being apologetic about or ashamed of it.

I believe in doing things that reflect your personality. Phoniness can be detected like sour milk, you can only pass it off as real to others with the same bad tastes.

I believe in quick thinking and deliberate responses.

I believe in the power of the rally monkey… but I’m still confused as to why it’s a monkey.

I believe that the way to success is doing the right things for people.

go to your room.

My mom was pretty tough on my brother and me*.

I remember being sent to my room for some pretty minor offenses and thinking to myself, “I will never send my kids to their room for this. My mom is crazy!” As with many things, the further removed I am from each instance, the more that I think it makes sense… especially with some of the tirades I’ve seen in the past couple of weeks.

The first – and possibly most egregious in my book – comes from Joe Wilson, the congressman who thought it acceptable to stand up in the middle of an Obama speech (all of which are highly over-rated, anyway… a hobo could make speeches like that with all of those writers and a teleprompter everywhere he goes) and yell, “You lie!” Number one, any good mother would have taught young Joey that we don’t throw around allegations of people lying – especially in public and in front of cameras!

The second goes to a great pair- Serena Williams and Roger Federer. You are paid millions of dollars to play a sport you love. You have people who obsess over you. But your job is more important than everyone else’s, isn’t it? Threatening people with shoving tennis balls down their throat isn’t exactly good decorum. If I threatened someone in my office to the same degree, my ass would be canned by HR… and fast!

My favorite outburst, though- Kanye West. First, why even go outside with that hair? Second, you are a complete dick for thinking that anyone cares about your opinion of who should win. I whole-heartedly agree with President Obama’s comment of Kanye being a jackass, but my question is, do you think he needed a teleprompter to include that in his speech?

Generally speaking, these sorts of things wouldn’t bother me. I would brush them off as celebrity self-aggrandizement and ego-centrism. But after what I’ve seen the last few weeks at work and around other places, it’s not just the celebrities who have an overwhelming sense of self-importance– it’s a whole culture of self-entitlement. Everyone’s individual mission is so important that it becomes blinding and inhibits social awareness.

I can’t begin to tell you how many parents I see who think their kid is the best…. fill in the blank… no matter what anyone else says. They make their kids feel important so that they can feel important for having the important kid- sort of like importance by association… or importance by rearing. I see it in my 15-year-old cousin’s friends. There’s one guy and one girl out of the group that really get it- they speak to all adults in a proper manner, they use Mr. and Mrs., and they display incredible social awareness. The others may as well have been raised by a pack of wolves- absolutely no clue how to behave around others, especially those who are older.

You don’t deserve anything just because you showed up… and my mom made sure that I knew that. By metaphorically beating that into me, she made me work hard for everything, even around the house. There’s no greater lesson than humility and it’s something that I still have to work at.

Unless we stop rewarding tirades of self-entitlement, we’re just teaching an entire new generation to be self-important…. and that’s not something that I can handle without thoughts of homicide. So please, save me from jail and if you’re a parent already, beat (…metaphorically, of course) your child into humble submission. Teach manners, respect, and social awareness: do your parenting duty. Your kids will thank you for it.

*Yes, the proper word here is “me” and not “I.” In the past week, I’ve had two people “correct” me on the I versus me usage. When you are speaking about yourself in conjunction with other people, the only way to get correct usage is to remove the names of others and see what makes sense: I or me. In this case, I would say, “My mom was pretty tough on me,” not, “My mom was pretty tough on I.” This is for all those who want to insert their incorrect grammar into the lives of others, making all of America sound even more stupid…. this is also something that our previous president always got wrong while speaking. Go figure.

savages, savages- barely even human!

I can’t let work get further in the way of my blog.

So, I suppose my promise is the following: I will definitely try to update three times per week (sub-promises therein may include: (1) you will definitely get tired of reading this if you at all feel obligated to keep up   (2) you will be further subjected to my spectrum of emotions and, during the week, I take very little/no responsibility for me wanting to stab myself because of work   (3) speaking of work, at least a couple work hours per week will be spent writing this and not fundraising).

That being said, here’s a brief update on what’s been happening in my uneventful life.

1.) Today, I spent my lunch break at Costco. I just needed a couple bags of salad but, as usual, they made me feel obligated to over-spend and (eventually) over-eat. This sort of obligation generally comes with each visit I make to Costco, but today they crossed the line… and I’m steaming. When I went to pay, some woman named Theresa accosted me to “upgrade to an executive membership.” I said no… the first four times. But then, she followed me all the way to the receipt line. You know the one- where they check everything to make sure you’re not stealing a giant package of napkins that could be easily concealed in the small cart. Unfortunately, I gave in… and it’s because today they were offering an incentive- a free pack of Kirkland Signature water. I informed her that if this was only a one day, Costco is missing an entire upgrade-eligible, dehydrated demographic. I then spent the next ten minutes asking her annoying questions about the different kinds of waters, the CRV tax, and health fairs. That’s 10 minutes you’ll never get back, Theresa. I’m better than you at this game.

2.) I understand why “adults” don’t want to celebrate their birthdays… because the work people take control of it. All I asked for was to have a simple gathering of our seven person team rather than inviting the entire 50-person department. Guess what I got? The whole 50-person department. It’s like a competition- the more birthdays that you can hijack and make into your own parties, the better.

3.) It was my job to hire something like 42 student workers. I had 85 interviews. I don’t think I’m allowed to write about them in depth, but here’s a little peak into my world for the past two weeks… one of the applicants had job experience working with Playboy… in the costume department. Oxymoron? The second applicant (yes, these were the first two applicants I received) had only one “relevant” job: live nude model. I had to pass on those two.

4.) Completely and totally new to this blog: I’m a bit irritated…. with a very discreet group of people. I think in the mid-20th century, if 20-somethings didn’t know what they wanted to do, they were “abnormal,” or looked down upon. Now, it seems like if a 20-something does know what they want to do, THAT is abnormal. Does anyone really need to be apologetic either way? If you’re happy with what you’re doing, more power to ya…. and oh yeah, leave me alone about what I’m choosing to do.

All in all, things are just fine… but like I’ve said before: no one prepares you to be an adult and I’m just trying to keep my head above water.

**title of this post has nothing to do with anything in here. Just don’t go poking around in places in which you’re not prepared to face what you find.

definitely.

the worst night of my life.

paging mr. corry to gate c19

All worlds are converging by departure.

Last weekend, I spent some time in Arizona for Blake’s 21^st birthday. Of course, we had a great time and the details of the big night will surely follow in some list format or mildly-humorous short piece, written solely to mask passing irritation or the solemnity of the ever-present reminders that yes, I am actually an adult. It’s not normally my style to have sentimentalism seeping from the blog, but I’m going there – probably because I’m on another solo “business trip.” Ah, yes, sending the 23 year old out alone, across the country, to meet with parents who are disbelieving when I tell them not to worry, apprehensive about my suggestion for their student to be a dorm-room minimalist, and uneasy about their student turning out just like me: a college graduate who never came back home.

While in the barrio of  (el) Chandler, I helped my brother load his stuff into a U-Haul, fully knowing that this will probably be the last time he leaves West Ivanhoe Street as a permanent resident. It was time for him to move on- he’s more than responsible enough, he found a good roommate, and changes coming on the homefront almost necessitate such a locale change (So as not to be the asshole who alludes to things and doesn’t elaborate, here we go in short version: my mom is getting remarried to a man named Ascension. We like him, but that doesn’t mean that there won’t be a whole separate post explaining the wonder/el wondero and glory/la gloria that will be this wedding ceremony, marriage, and life thereafter… and yes, I know that is not accurate Spanish, but where am I going to find the right words sitting on a plane with a bunch of Midwesterners heading to Columbus, Ohio?). 

Speaking of the flight to Ohio, that’s where the other one has decided to go. Cincinnati to be exact (For those inquiring minds…. it’s because grad school is there. Were you actually trying to think up something else that might drive someone to Cincinnati?). I see those movies where two seven-year-olds are best friends and all of a sudden, one has to move away because of something as meaningless as, you know, a parent’s job or infirmed relative. To the left-behind seven year-old, the only question that makes sense is, “How dare they take my best friend!?” This is followed by a healthy dose of moping and sulking. Sadly, I’m not too different (in maturity or otherwise) from that seven year-old.

Six cities in eight days, and in each, I had to find those screens – which can never keep up with real-time changes – that give me the list of flight departures. The screens don’t show the departures that mean the most- my two best friends leaving from the only places in which I have known them. I suppose it’s one of those “natural progression” things. The kind that they tell you are coming. The kind that will bring our regular threesome to a twosome…. speaking strictly in golf terms. The kind that temporarily move friendships, but don’t change them.

Adios, brothers. bx.

where memories go to die.

I didn’t plan to do anything that I’m currently doing.

Well- good news: I got a promotion. I’m now the Manager of Annual Giving in University Advancement. This is one of those things that happened quickly – but in my mind, oh-so-slowly. 

So I sat down to think about when I departed from all of my other career plans, if you can call them “plans” rather than whims that flew by as quickly as winter in Orange County. At first, I wanted to be a lawyer. It was glamorous, high paying, and fast-paced. Then there was the kindergarten teacher phase. Yup, I thought people would trust ME with their children. Mostly, I thought it would be cool to “play” all day. Ditched that and went back to the lawyer.

I wanted to go to Notre Dame: chose Chapman. I wanted to study abroad in Italy: chose to stay home and work in student government. I wanted to go straight to law school: chose the work force. The first two jobs I applied for said no to me, so there was no choice there.

While attending the 2009 Commencement at Chapman, I couldn’t help but put myself back in the black gown and mortar board, sitting on the zip-tied, white chairs in the middle of the football field. I vividly remember all of the things that I was thinking – most of the words that were said – and walking across the stage to shake hands with the boss, Jim Doti (for whom I would later work as an office assistant in a transition summer job). I allowed myself to daydream and take a quick journey back over my last year.

There are so many chance meetings, casual conversations, and unremarkable things that happened to me which, at the time, I did not appreciate or see the value therein. One such chance meeting landed me my current job. Another unremarkable thing further forged a friendship that I will have for the rest of my life. Lots of casual conversations taught me lessons that I will not soon forget.

It is with all of these unremarkable things that I will associate the most pivotal moments in my life thus far. How many more of the same unremarkable things will happen to me in the next year? It is quite overwhelming and exciting to think that it’s not only the overwhelming and exciting moments that make a seemingly common existence rather uncommon.

A lot is going to happen in the next few months- my best friend is getting married, my work is sending me out on “business trips,” and my mom’s man-friend (he’s not really a boy if he’s 40) apparently needs to “talk” with my brother and me. Sure I think about these things while they are still weeks and months away, but I suppose it’s more important to really digest them while I am going through the experience. I certainly don’t want the things I simply forget to outnumber the things I value.

I’m not doing what I set out to do. But I am setting out… and I am making sure to take notes along the way.

life updates

Hi! What’s up? That was rhetorical.

FYI-  Sylvia Plath’s son committed suicide today. Extremely sad… but that guy never had a chance.

In a completely logical sequitur, I thought now would be a good time to segue back into what the original post did – talk about my life, my friends, and what’s going on. The blogosphere is the perfect place for self-indulgence of this kind: I spend time writing about me assuming that other people care… so here we go.

1.) As has been my MO for a while now, I’ve been kickin it with my buddies Gabriel Garcia Marquez and John Steinbeck – they communicate much more effectively than my roommates, so I thought I would share a couple quotes from Marquez.

“The heart’s memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good; thanks to this artifice, we manage to endure the burdens of the past.”

“…human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.”

I think these are both important and relevant to my life because I could benefit from a little bit more compassion, a lot more optimism, a dash more patience, and a sliver of regular, introspective signal-calling.

2.) Within the past couple weeks, I’ve had three visitors roll through the Pagoda: Blake, my large brother, and Rachel and Christina. All three were big reminders of what I miss about Arizona and why I need to go back soon.

3.) We’re closing in on 100 days to Teren’s wedding. I’m pretty excited about it. If you haven’t looked at their website yet, check it out: www.briannaandteren.weddingwindow.com (foreshadowing: long website name to save/hoard (all of the) money). I suggested that Teren let each of his groomsmen write a piece about his friendship with the groom-to-be. Since he declined, I thought I would share with all of you, instead: “When I met Teren, he was fat, angry, and Jewish. Now he’s just Jewish… and a real one, at that. He and his dad just got a letter from Costco notifying them that the company would be monitoring the Shaffer family returns (apparently using televisions for a year or more and then upgrading isn’t what the return policy had in mind). He also reads from the Talmud every night after he comes inside from the western wall of our property…” You know, something that really lets people into the world of Teren Shaffer as I know him.

4.) Trent and Amanda are doing well- they’re almost done with their insane testing!!! Only one more to go. I’m pretty happy about this because once they have official licensing, I can be one of their first customers… a lifelong business partnership in a world that values bottom line over enduring relationships.

5.) I had popcorn this weekend and remembered why I hate it… You try to be an equal opportunity guy and buy some popcorn from the Boy Scouts because you bought cookies from the Girl Scouts. What do you get? A $6 box of kettle corn that gets stuck in your teeth and fills your body with butter, like Julia Child. Also, the options they gave me were ridiculous – so many flavors to choose from… why? The bearcub den master who thought up this scheme must have been the love child of Bertie Bott and Orville Redenbacher. Geesh.

6.) I made a deal with Jenn that we would help each other not buy anything that wasn’t necessary. You know, the weird thing aboud having a job and regular income is that you feel like you have no money and lots of money all at the same time. It’s just that your stash is spent in larger quantities at higher frequencies.

7.) Tomas and Kevin are still alive. Kevin had an interesting encounter with alcohol for his 22nd birthday and Tomas had an interesting encounter with a job- as in he got one. We’re all now employed and share stories about the people with whom we work. Our conclusion: the job market is tough, but if every employer fired the useless people, all us people willing to roll up our sleeves and work would be employed and making cash money.

8.) If you haven’t seen it already, check out the posted videos of Delta Tau Delta’s skit night performance…. why go back to amateur night when you already have Broadway? Completely blew my mind and I couldn’t be happier for a group of guys.

Takeaway lessons: keep your head out of ovens, stay away from boy scout popcorn, and never, ever trust anyone from Long Beach.

grandma part 2

Good news- Grandma strikes again.

I’m going to try something a bit different because I don’t really feel like I can do this justice without just going straight for the quotes… so here we go:

Ryan: … I’m planning Teren’s bachelor party.
Gma: Why are you doing that?
Ryan: Because it’s my job as the best man… I think we’re going to Vegas.
Gma: Well, don’t go to Mexico. There’s drugs. And what is this party for?
Ryan: It’s Teren’s last days as a free man before he goes back like a black in the 1800s, nah mean?
Gma: His girlfriend is making him do that? Why does she want the party to have pilgrims?
Ryan: I’m not sure Grandma.
Gma: I feel really sorry for that boy.
Ryan: Oh yeah? Why, Grandma?
Gma: Well, he’s just too young to get married. I see bad things in his scope.
Blake: What do you mean scope?
Gma: You know what I mean… there’s just things in his future.
Blake: What about my scope Grandma? What do you see in my future?
Gma: Well (Grandma starts lots of sentences with “Well”), I see good things… as long as you keep believing what you believe and doing what you do.
Ryan: What about my scope, Grandma?
Gma: I hate to say it… you’re right in the middle.
Ryan: Ohhhhh. Good…. Well, since Teren is the lowest down, maybe we should bring him over and have you bless him.
Gma: No, I don’t think he wants to be blessed.
Ryan: Yeah he does, you just have to do it in the name of YHWH.
Gma: He can’t be blessed. **She stops here and just makes a cup motion on the crown of her head to signal a yarmulke. 

So, tonight, grandma was in psychic mode. She has predicted the future outcome of three people and out of the group, Blake came out on top. Pretty good, right?