Almost in the very middle of the back of my left hand is a little bit of a scar, a crescent moon in red indenting my skin about an inch below the second knuckle. It's not even really noticeable, I assume, to the casual observer. That happened when I smacked the back of my hand into the fish cart.
We have a cart roughly one foot by three feet, maybe four feet tall. It's on wheels and has three shelves and lives during service next to the door between the kitchen and the dish room. It holds the fish, tomatoes and onions that are the fry station's output as well as the requisite flour, panko, corn meal and egg wash.
Rushing through the kitchen one night, not accounting for the fish cart being moved to the opposite side of the doorway next to which it lives, my arm's usual swing brought my hand into the end of the fish cart with some amount of force. I was concerned for the rest of the night that I'd broken a couple of the bones because it hurt so much. The skin was a broken a bit, and the sign of that ordeal is the tiny scar that will probably fade eventually.
While Frenching racks of lamb recently, paring knife in my right hand, lamb in my left, I found the paring knife dragging its point across my second finger. It's barely a cut, just enough to get a couple of grains of salt and maybe a bit of black pepper in while salting the chips. It didn't bleed even, though the blood from the lamb made it hard to be sure until after I'd washed my hands. The sad part of that is that I nearly cut myself a second time before finishing that job.
There are a couple of burns on my right hand, though none are fresh. They are currently slowly fading pink spots, barely reminders that, indeed, the oven is in fact hot. The most sore thing on my right hand would be the knife callous.
At the base of my index finger, on the inside, is the callous where the back of my knife blade rests. It's a healthy little fucker until you work with something really wet or really firm. Wet soaks in and softens the skin sometimes, and the callous wants to escape and peel away.
Firm foods have a different effect. Perhaps you need to dice half a bag of parsnips. It's almost as if the dull back of the knife is doing its own slow cut into the callous as you slice the parsnip. It's also not unlike the callous is getting spread around like cool butter, mashed and forced across the bread that is my finger. The callous generally rights itself soon enough, but it's certainly a fun little friend halfway through the bag.
If you like callous stories then consider the ring I wear on my right ring finger and that same knife. Of course any ring you wear all the time will form some amount of callous, but press the handle of a knife into that hand for a large percentage of your work day. At least you don't feel the pinching as much when it finally forms a callous. Some days however, the ring and callous, for whatever reason, don't quite align. The blister you don't realize you have is a thoughtful reminder.
And don't get me started on the fact that I can't manage not to hit my head on certain things. Don't get into the fact that I have three tiny (seriously not visible two days later tiny) cuts on my hand from falling ice. Ignore the twinge in my back from the slick spot which I slipped in but did not actually fall all the way down, opting instead for a graceless half spin/twist movement that I'm not really capable of making. I'll also ignore the recurring foot pain for which I can discern nor remember any cause whatsoever even considering several years past. Perhaps it's the cheap Sears boots, but I don't really think so.
I'll leave you with that, my litany of nearly woes. None of these are really that great or horrid a source of pain. They are as described, just tiny little motes that don't really warrant complaint. None of them are bothering me at the moment other than the cut on my finger, and it's not really even bothering me so much as it is sort of asserting itself to be noticed almost. The only scab on either hand is one whose cause I don't even remember, a scab I absentmindedly picked off at some point earlier tonight. All of this I have now milked unabashedly, forcing a blog post from where there was none. Even I can't believe I'd stoop so low, but what's done is done. The cat is for real out of the bag.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
it isn't really early
I may be expert in little else, but I'm at least pretty darn good at explaining away why I don't post more often. I was so regular a blogger at one point. I had decent stats (decent enough for me) and the occasional comment. Life was good in the world of my own little corner of blogland.
Then things got crazy. Momma did some things and I came out and then there was the depression and then the sun came out and reminded me that life, like a mountain range, is not a series of peak so much as it is a bunch of wrinkles with peaks and valleys, hills, dales and hollers even.
I should tell you about the boyfriend, though the new why-I-don't-post-more excuse is a little about him. He knows about the blog and has read some of it, but all of what he's seen was really before his arrival on the scene, and though he knows, I haven't really discussed it with him. I haven't talked about how he's going to figure in the blog. He's going to have to.
He wasted no time in becoming a huge part of my life, and I wasted no time in falling madly for him. He has tattoos and piercings and ear holes much bigger than mine. He's slightly younger and has been out since high school. My children adore him. If all his coolness hadn't won me over, then I was certainly done when he went to the fair with us and rode kiddy rides with me and The Boy. Or maybe I was hooked the first time I saw him laying in the floor with Big Brother and The Boy building with Legos.
So there he is, though that doesn't come close to describing him. And now I need a name, something to maintain that air of privacy that I've taken pains not to bother that much with. Yes, I do know how easy it is to figure out who I am, but I can still pretend some amount of anonymity. To further reduce any chances of remaining anonymous I may just post a picture, though the pictures of him and me are all really gay to be honest.
And finally, let's not forget Momma. She loves my boyfriend too which really helps. She's seeing someone as well, but he keeps being busy with some sort of schooling/test thing. He needs to take the damn test already, but that's not really even a little my business. He seems cool enough, though I haven't really hung out with him that much. I did think briefly about giving him the typical guy speech wherein I threaten his well being with violence should he ever be anything but the absolute most wonderful person to Momma, but that's a little redneck for me, so I'll probably not.
This is possibly slightly more update than the last time I didn't update, but it also isn't.
Then things got crazy. Momma did some things and I came out and then there was the depression and then the sun came out and reminded me that life, like a mountain range, is not a series of peak so much as it is a bunch of wrinkles with peaks and valleys, hills, dales and hollers even.
I should tell you about the boyfriend, though the new why-I-don't-post-more excuse is a little about him. He knows about the blog and has read some of it, but all of what he's seen was really before his arrival on the scene, and though he knows, I haven't really discussed it with him. I haven't talked about how he's going to figure in the blog. He's going to have to.
He wasted no time in becoming a huge part of my life, and I wasted no time in falling madly for him. He has tattoos and piercings and ear holes much bigger than mine. He's slightly younger and has been out since high school. My children adore him. If all his coolness hadn't won me over, then I was certainly done when he went to the fair with us and rode kiddy rides with me and The Boy. Or maybe I was hooked the first time I saw him laying in the floor with Big Brother and The Boy building with Legos.
So there he is, though that doesn't come close to describing him. And now I need a name, something to maintain that air of privacy that I've taken pains not to bother that much with. Yes, I do know how easy it is to figure out who I am, but I can still pretend some amount of anonymity. To further reduce any chances of remaining anonymous I may just post a picture, though the pictures of him and me are all really gay to be honest.
And finally, let's not forget Momma. She loves my boyfriend too which really helps. She's seeing someone as well, but he keeps being busy with some sort of schooling/test thing. He needs to take the damn test already, but that's not really even a little my business. He seems cool enough, though I haven't really hung out with him that much. I did think briefly about giving him the typical guy speech wherein I threaten his well being with violence should he ever be anything but the absolute most wonderful person to Momma, but that's a little redneck for me, so I'll probably not.
This is possibly slightly more update than the last time I didn't update, but it also isn't.
She served me up a softball, threw me the easiest of bones, and I failed for over ten days to craft my response. Sadly, I've failed to blog often enough that I may actually be forgetting how to type. My WPM is lower than frog balls.
First we thanks Molly for the meme tag, because even though I sat on it for over a week, I am using the post fodder she gave me. I'm going to answer the questions, though I won't post or follow the rules. It doesn't seem right to tag others when I've been so lax in posting myself.
So on with the questions. I'm given the option of changing any quesions I want, but along with not posting or following the rules I'm going to not give myself the option of making it easier for me.
1. How many songs are on your ipod?
I don't have an ipod, but I do use itunes when I listen to music using my computer, and for me that's close enough. I'd love an ipod, but I'm not yet willing to pay for one myself. Since I do have isomething I'll admit that I have 1072 songs in itunes, and that translates to 2.4 days of music. That's somehow different though mostly the same.
2. What music would you want played at your funeral?
I don't know. I'd much prefer that the people at my funeral after party would listen to music that helped them remember good things about me, but more importantly for my funeral is the full body bong I want my funeral attendees to be sucking at.
Full body bong equals having a pothead taxidermist make my body into a bong. Believe me, I've thought of this, and here's the proof. You will hit me (suck the intoxicating smoke) through my mouth. The head of my erect penis will be the bowl (the place you put the pot.) The carb (the part that, when released, allows outside air to force the intoxicating fumes into your ready face) will be my butthole, properly sealed with your thumb until you are ready to inhale the sweet reefer.
I really do want the full body bong to happen. I've dreamed and schemed of this for many years. Please promise that you will smoke weed through me if you are able. Also please wait till I'm dead.
3. What magazines do you have subscriptions to?
At one time Popular Science, National Geographic, but sadly I believe we've let them run out. There were more at one time, but the other ones were allowed to run out. I don't even remember anymore, and that seems sad. We really did used to get a couple of good magazines.
4. What is your favorite scent?
There are a few. Roasting meat and vanilla are a couple of food based scents. There's a certain combination of cow, landfill and wastewater treatment that smells like the place I grew up. There's a certain musky something that guys' balls get that drives me crazy. But perhaps my favorite scent is old books and old pages.
5. If you had a million dollars that you could only spend on yourself what would you do?
I'd buy myself a car and a restaurant and then I'd travel somewhere with my favorite boys. I'd buy up a bunch of cd's I've wanted as well and probably a new pair of black leather Converse.
6. What is your theme song?
7. Do you trust easily?
I do, and I get fucked over pretty easily. I also have great things happen pretty easily when I can stop not trusting long enough to get fucked over. It's a fine line between gullible and cynical with more good than not when it happens.
8. Do you generally act before you think or think before you act?
I feel as if I'm doomed to act first and think/question later, but I'm also more than likely to put way too much thought into anything I stumble across.
9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?
Smallish petty things are messing with me differently these day. Not seeing a certain cute boy is not fun. My job isn't the worst thing I've dealt with even when it seems like it. I could make lists of how not bad it is or how bad it isn't, but it still isn't and is respectively.
10. Do you have a good body image?
I'm realizing lately that I just might have a body image. I don't know how much that concept has really occurred to me in the past. I think I'm okay, but my problem isn't my body so much as it is that I just don't do shit to be more healthy. Maybe I do have a skewed body image.
11. Is being tagged fun?
It really is. It's proof that at least one person you sort of know thinks you suck at least a little less than you feel you do.
12. How do you spend your social networking (i.e. Facebook, etc.) time?
My Myspace account is basically for anyone who knows me and is a place I'm out. I usually just skim a couple of bulletins, maybe check out some bands, try to keep in touch with friends who aren't as close as I'd like.
Facebook is a place where I'm not yet out and is filled with family (with whom I'm also not out) a couple of blog friends and lately lots of old friends from the christian school at which I spent my younger years.
13. What have you been seriously addicted to lately?
There are no new addictions to speak of, though I've been on a bit of an energy drink bender if a bit of a tiny bender. It's all because I've suddenly not gotten as much sleep as I was, and when you consider how little sleep I get anyway. I don't generally like the nasty flavor of energy drinks, so it was nice to see that they are being made in coffee like flavors. So far, Monster Java is my favorite with Rockstar being the least.
14. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
Molly? She makes pretty babies, and she writes. She talks about red wine once in a while, though I'm personally a beer and tequila type. I'm sure she's funny and often self deprecating. She seems like an all 'round swell gal, and I'm never wrong about this sort of thing. Never!
15. What was the last song that got stuck in your head?
Right now there's a snippet of bluegrass, but I can't remember enough of the song to call it stuck in my head. Webb Peirce's Slowly and/or Wondering are the two that get stuck in my head most often lately.
16. What are your favorite items of clothing?
Probably my jeans because they are so comfortable. As it's beginning to be cooler, especially at night, I can wear another favorite, an Old Navy fleece jacket, mostly black with gray shoulders and gray stripes down the sleeves. The gray and black are separated by a bit of white something I don't know the name of. They aren't clothes as such, but I have a new to me pair of ear rings that I "stole" from the boyfriend. They are bigger than my old earrings increasing my ear hole size up a gauge to four and reminding me that, once upon a time, I was going to stretch the bastards. That was the original plan, but I fell in love with a pair of six gauge captive ball hoops and couldn't stand to part with them. I recently remembered the stretching and decided it was time.
17. Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy?
I must say that I don't. They may be second only to puffed wheat in terms of unpleasant cereals. I might pick them over Fruity Pebbles or anything with those dried up little marshmallow turds, but that doesn't really say much for the Rice Krispies.
18. What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground?
Maybe buy some weed, but certainly I'd buy some nice beer for the house, and most importantly I'd do something nice for or with the boyfriend.
19. What items could you not go without during the day?
I'm trying like hell not to answer this question with cigarettes, but that may be the single thing I really "can't" do without. The sweet answer involves my phone and texts from a certain cute boy I know, but his phone was off for a couple days, and the one way texts from me didn't kill me, so, though I'd prefer not, I suppose I can live without.
20. What should you be doing right now?
I've got my coffee, and there's a load of pants in the washing machine. Momma is at work and all my favorite boys are sleeping. There's not much I should be doing that I'm not right now. Oh, sure, I could be making breakfast to surprise all those favorite boys, or I could be cleaning something around the house. I could go so far as to . . . no . . . I'm doing what I should at the moment.
Because Molly ended her meme post with a video I feel it's only fair that I do the same. The problem here is that I'm just not sure what or who. The only band/song that really comes to mind is Los Straitjackets' Tempest. I hope you like rockabilly and luchador masks, 'cuz they are the shit, and so is this.
First we thanks Molly for the meme tag, because even though I sat on it for over a week, I am using the post fodder she gave me. I'm going to answer the questions, though I won't post or follow the rules. It doesn't seem right to tag others when I've been so lax in posting myself.
So on with the questions. I'm given the option of changing any quesions I want, but along with not posting or following the rules I'm going to not give myself the option of making it easier for me.
1. How many songs are on your ipod?
I don't have an ipod, but I do use itunes when I listen to music using my computer, and for me that's close enough. I'd love an ipod, but I'm not yet willing to pay for one myself. Since I do have isomething I'll admit that I have 1072 songs in itunes, and that translates to 2.4 days of music. That's somehow different though mostly the same.
2. What music would you want played at your funeral?
I don't know. I'd much prefer that the people at my funeral after party would listen to music that helped them remember good things about me, but more importantly for my funeral is the full body bong I want my funeral attendees to be sucking at.
Full body bong equals having a pothead taxidermist make my body into a bong. Believe me, I've thought of this, and here's the proof. You will hit me (suck the intoxicating smoke) through my mouth. The head of my erect penis will be the bowl (the place you put the pot.) The carb (the part that, when released, allows outside air to force the intoxicating fumes into your ready face) will be my butthole, properly sealed with your thumb until you are ready to inhale the sweet reefer.
I really do want the full body bong to happen. I've dreamed and schemed of this for many years. Please promise that you will smoke weed through me if you are able. Also please wait till I'm dead.
3. What magazines do you have subscriptions to?
At one time Popular Science, National Geographic, but sadly I believe we've let them run out. There were more at one time, but the other ones were allowed to run out. I don't even remember anymore, and that seems sad. We really did used to get a couple of good magazines.
4. What is your favorite scent?
There are a few. Roasting meat and vanilla are a couple of food based scents. There's a certain combination of cow, landfill and wastewater treatment that smells like the place I grew up. There's a certain musky something that guys' balls get that drives me crazy. But perhaps my favorite scent is old books and old pages.
5. If you had a million dollars that you could only spend on yourself what would you do?
I'd buy myself a car and a restaurant and then I'd travel somewhere with my favorite boys. I'd buy up a bunch of cd's I've wanted as well and probably a new pair of black leather Converse.
6. What is your theme song?
7. Do you trust easily?
I do, and I get fucked over pretty easily. I also have great things happen pretty easily when I can stop not trusting long enough to get fucked over. It's a fine line between gullible and cynical with more good than not when it happens.
8. Do you generally act before you think or think before you act?
I feel as if I'm doomed to act first and think/question later, but I'm also more than likely to put way too much thought into anything I stumble across.
9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days?
Smallish petty things are messing with me differently these day. Not seeing a certain cute boy is not fun. My job isn't the worst thing I've dealt with even when it seems like it. I could make lists of how not bad it is or how bad it isn't, but it still isn't and is respectively.
10. Do you have a good body image?
I'm realizing lately that I just might have a body image. I don't know how much that concept has really occurred to me in the past. I think I'm okay, but my problem isn't my body so much as it is that I just don't do shit to be more healthy. Maybe I do have a skewed body image.
11. Is being tagged fun?
It really is. It's proof that at least one person you sort of know thinks you suck at least a little less than you feel you do.
12. How do you spend your social networking (i.e. Facebook, etc.) time?
My Myspace account is basically for anyone who knows me and is a place I'm out. I usually just skim a couple of bulletins, maybe check out some bands, try to keep in touch with friends who aren't as close as I'd like.
Facebook is a place where I'm not yet out and is filled with family (with whom I'm also not out) a couple of blog friends and lately lots of old friends from the christian school at which I spent my younger years.
13. What have you been seriously addicted to lately?
There are no new addictions to speak of, though I've been on a bit of an energy drink bender if a bit of a tiny bender. It's all because I've suddenly not gotten as much sleep as I was, and when you consider how little sleep I get anyway. I don't generally like the nasty flavor of energy drinks, so it was nice to see that they are being made in coffee like flavors. So far, Monster Java is my favorite with Rockstar being the least.
14. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
Molly? She makes pretty babies, and she writes. She talks about red wine once in a while, though I'm personally a beer and tequila type. I'm sure she's funny and often self deprecating. She seems like an all 'round swell gal, and I'm never wrong about this sort of thing. Never!
15. What was the last song that got stuck in your head?
Right now there's a snippet of bluegrass, but I can't remember enough of the song to call it stuck in my head. Webb Peirce's Slowly and/or Wondering are the two that get stuck in my head most often lately.
16. What are your favorite items of clothing?
Probably my jeans because they are so comfortable. As it's beginning to be cooler, especially at night, I can wear another favorite, an Old Navy fleece jacket, mostly black with gray shoulders and gray stripes down the sleeves. The gray and black are separated by a bit of white something I don't know the name of. They aren't clothes as such, but I have a new to me pair of ear rings that I "stole" from the boyfriend. They are bigger than my old earrings increasing my ear hole size up a gauge to four and reminding me that, once upon a time, I was going to stretch the bastards. That was the original plan, but I fell in love with a pair of six gauge captive ball hoops and couldn't stand to part with them. I recently remembered the stretching and decided it was time.
17. Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy?
I must say that I don't. They may be second only to puffed wheat in terms of unpleasant cereals. I might pick them over Fruity Pebbles or anything with those dried up little marshmallow turds, but that doesn't really say much for the Rice Krispies.
18. What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground?
Maybe buy some weed, but certainly I'd buy some nice beer for the house, and most importantly I'd do something nice for or with the boyfriend.
19. What items could you not go without during the day?
I'm trying like hell not to answer this question with cigarettes, but that may be the single thing I really "can't" do without. The sweet answer involves my phone and texts from a certain cute boy I know, but his phone was off for a couple days, and the one way texts from me didn't kill me, so, though I'd prefer not, I suppose I can live without.
20. What should you be doing right now?
I've got my coffee, and there's a load of pants in the washing machine. Momma is at work and all my favorite boys are sleeping. There's not much I should be doing that I'm not right now. Oh, sure, I could be making breakfast to surprise all those favorite boys, or I could be cleaning something around the house. I could go so far as to . . . no . . . I'm doing what I should at the moment.
Because Molly ended her meme post with a video I feel it's only fair that I do the same. The problem here is that I'm just not sure what or who. The only band/song that really comes to mind is Los Straitjackets' Tempest. I hope you like rockabilly and luchador masks, 'cuz they are the shit, and so is this.
Friday, September 12, 2008
more or less still not an update
This is so the wrong time to try to write a blog post, mostly because I'm supposed to be getting ready for work, but it's been an entire week since the last time I didn't really give you an update, so I'm using this wrong time to attempt to not not do so again. Also, I have to wait for a chef's coat to dry, and I can't do shit till then anyway.
I'm not looking at the calendar or doing the math in my head, so I will have to be vague with the timeline. I met a really cool guy between three and four weeks ago. A mutual friend had invited Momma and me and the boys to her house for a wee bit of a party. She also invited the cool guy to whom I've referred.
We seemed to hit it off pretty much immediately, though it may have actually taken a couple more minutes than that. I ended the night at his apartment (up the hill from the friend's party in the same apartment complex) to enjoy a certain combustible intoxicant. As I left, he walked me to the outside door of the building for an awkward moment of are we going to hug and kiss or just hug or just hit our heads together trying to make sense.
Fast forward a week from that night, the cute boy and I have at this time spent nearly every night hanging out together. There's some certain something that neither of us can deny or avoid, and he points this out and asks if I'd like to be his boyfriend.
Thankfully there wasn't a lot of traffic as we were driving when he asked this. Momma, at the time, felt as if things were moving a little quickly. I quite agreed, to an extent, but I tried to help her understand that it wasn't a bad quickly. It does indeed seem quick, but there's that undeniable and also unexplainable something.
Since then we've hung out nearly every night. He lays in the floor with my kids and builds Lego cities. They sprawl on the sofa and watch cartoons. He went to the fair with us, and while Momma and Big Brother wandered toward some of the bigger rides, he hung out with The Boy and me and even rode some of the kiddie rides with us. He even took me and the boys out to dinner last night for a late birthday dinner for me. Even Momma likes him and enjoys hanging out with him.
Oh, and he's given me flowers on two different occasions, though one of those occasions the flowers were perhaps not legally attained.
Momma has also very recently befriended a cute boy of her own. My own cute boyfriend and I have discussed him briefly and have decided that he is okay. We'll see where that goes and hope for the best.
Now you know the newest reason I'm having trouble getting to the computer. As more proof of the little time I have lately my unread Google reader items are now approaching the five hundred mark which for me is nearly twice the old record. I keep trying to check in, and I certainly miss all the blogs I love. Perhaps soon the whirlwind will slow down a tiny bit, and I can get back to some of the old drudge I miss.
I'm not looking at the calendar or doing the math in my head, so I will have to be vague with the timeline. I met a really cool guy between three and four weeks ago. A mutual friend had invited Momma and me and the boys to her house for a wee bit of a party. She also invited the cool guy to whom I've referred.
We seemed to hit it off pretty much immediately, though it may have actually taken a couple more minutes than that. I ended the night at his apartment (up the hill from the friend's party in the same apartment complex) to enjoy a certain combustible intoxicant. As I left, he walked me to the outside door of the building for an awkward moment of are we going to hug and kiss or just hug or just hit our heads together trying to make sense.
Fast forward a week from that night, the cute boy and I have at this time spent nearly every night hanging out together. There's some certain something that neither of us can deny or avoid, and he points this out and asks if I'd like to be his boyfriend.
Thankfully there wasn't a lot of traffic as we were driving when he asked this. Momma, at the time, felt as if things were moving a little quickly. I quite agreed, to an extent, but I tried to help her understand that it wasn't a bad quickly. It does indeed seem quick, but there's that undeniable and also unexplainable something.
Since then we've hung out nearly every night. He lays in the floor with my kids and builds Lego cities. They sprawl on the sofa and watch cartoons. He went to the fair with us, and while Momma and Big Brother wandered toward some of the bigger rides, he hung out with The Boy and me and even rode some of the kiddie rides with us. He even took me and the boys out to dinner last night for a late birthday dinner for me. Even Momma likes him and enjoys hanging out with him.
Oh, and he's given me flowers on two different occasions, though one of those occasions the flowers were perhaps not legally attained.
Momma has also very recently befriended a cute boy of her own. My own cute boyfriend and I have discussed him briefly and have decided that he is okay. We'll see where that goes and hope for the best.
Now you know the newest reason I'm having trouble getting to the computer. As more proof of the little time I have lately my unread Google reader items are now approaching the five hundred mark which for me is nearly twice the old record. I keep trying to check in, and I certainly miss all the blogs I love. Perhaps soon the whirlwind will slow down a tiny bit, and I can get back to some of the old drudge I miss.
Friday, September 05, 2008
more not not an update
It hasn't been that long that I actually had Blogger open and looked at how long it had been since I'd posted. I found myself posting so sporadically, and I felt as if each post was at least slightly whinier than the previous post, and I think I subconsciously forced myself to quit posting for a while.
Things have gotten better for me in general, and I'm once more gaining some sense of life not having some sort of grudge against me. The universe doesn't hate me any more than it hates anyone else. Life has a way of doing stuff, and sometimes that stuff is better than other times. Sometimes it matters what you do, while other times it doesn't. The ol' weltschmerz just aint what she used to be.
At the same time, just as I seem to have found something, Momma finds herself thinking about things she hadn't considered quite as she suddenly is. It's all really more than I'll get into at the moment, but it does add fuel to whatever is going on, adding to the weirdness that our family has become lately. It's a good weird, and we are working to maintain good weirdness given that some amount of weird is inherent in our situation.
And now I've got supper cooking. Momma made a roast with the requisite vegetables. I in turn have taken those leftovers and am turning them into beef stew. It's bubbling away happily and I'm returning to a blog post I actually began yesterday. It still says what I'm willing to give away right now, and that's fine.
I'm sure I've claimed numerous times lately that I was going to attend to this blog more often than has been my habit lately. It's something I really miss, but as I've said, I was at a point where the blog was the last thing I needed bothering me.
The road to some bad place is paved with the very best intentions as we all well know, so any claims toward more blogging should be taken with the very best grain of the very coarsest of sea salts.
Things have gotten better for me in general, and I'm once more gaining some sense of life not having some sort of grudge against me. The universe doesn't hate me any more than it hates anyone else. Life has a way of doing stuff, and sometimes that stuff is better than other times. Sometimes it matters what you do, while other times it doesn't. The ol' weltschmerz just aint what she used to be.
At the same time, just as I seem to have found something, Momma finds herself thinking about things she hadn't considered quite as she suddenly is. It's all really more than I'll get into at the moment, but it does add fuel to whatever is going on, adding to the weirdness that our family has become lately. It's a good weird, and we are working to maintain good weirdness given that some amount of weird is inherent in our situation.
And now I've got supper cooking. Momma made a roast with the requisite vegetables. I in turn have taken those leftovers and am turning them into beef stew. It's bubbling away happily and I'm returning to a blog post I actually began yesterday. It still says what I'm willing to give away right now, and that's fine.
I'm sure I've claimed numerous times lately that I was going to attend to this blog more often than has been my habit lately. It's something I really miss, but as I've said, I was at a point where the blog was the last thing I needed bothering me.
The road to some bad place is paved with the very best intentions as we all well know, so any claims toward more blogging should be taken with the very best grain of the very coarsest of sea salts.
Monday, August 25, 2008
busy-ness
There are so many things in Google reader because I haven't checked it in a couple of days. I honestly haven't had time, and given how easily I get sucked into the computer, for me not to have time means I must have been very busy. Given the whirlwind that last week was in general and add to that a weekend of roller derby and I'm surprised there are as few things there as there are.
Speaking of roller derby, the team from the western end of the state won all their bouts while the team from the eastern end of the state won only one. The team from the middle of the state lost both their A team bouts, but they won against a team of mostly rookies from the eastern end combined with some skaters from the northeast corner who don't quite have enough skaters to form a team, essentially rookies.
A scrimmage bout that was part of the weekend saw me cheering on some girls I'd only cheered against as well as sitting and cheering with some girls I'd only cheered against. As part of the weekend we had several scrimmage games with the teams made up of a mixture of girls from all teams. We had tattooed girls versus clean slates, for example, but the game I cheered the most was gay versus straight. I think you can imagine who I cheered for, and when family won I declared it a moment of proof of gay cultural superiority, whether or not it really was.
To my credit, I drank a lot less this weekend that I would have in the past. For some reason, hanging out with a hot boy who just doesn't drink anywhere close to what I do has prodded me toward drinking less. That's so not a bad thing and one more reason to like this new boy.
And speaking of that, he's the other reason I've been a bit busy this past week. At some point I'm assuming we can all settle into some reasonable pattern, but just now I sort of like being caught up in all of this. It's a great kind of crazy.
Speaking of roller derby, the team from the western end of the state won all their bouts while the team from the eastern end of the state won only one. The team from the middle of the state lost both their A team bouts, but they won against a team of mostly rookies from the eastern end combined with some skaters from the northeast corner who don't quite have enough skaters to form a team, essentially rookies.
A scrimmage bout that was part of the weekend saw me cheering on some girls I'd only cheered against as well as sitting and cheering with some girls I'd only cheered against. As part of the weekend we had several scrimmage games with the teams made up of a mixture of girls from all teams. We had tattooed girls versus clean slates, for example, but the game I cheered the most was gay versus straight. I think you can imagine who I cheered for, and when family won I declared it a moment of proof of gay cultural superiority, whether or not it really was.
To my credit, I drank a lot less this weekend that I would have in the past. For some reason, hanging out with a hot boy who just doesn't drink anywhere close to what I do has prodded me toward drinking less. That's so not a bad thing and one more reason to like this new boy.
And speaking of that, he's the other reason I've been a bit busy this past week. At some point I'm assuming we can all settle into some reasonable pattern, but just now I sort of like being caught up in all of this. It's a great kind of crazy.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
aggravation
The neighbor who hates my grass is calling the city again, or so I assume, and I don't know exactly which neighbor, though I have an idea. This time there's a twist.
Momma's grandfather got a letter very recently saying that he had till tomorrow to mow the grass. It's been mowed, though it did once again grow over long because, once again, the mower didn't want to work.
Grandfather came over recently and got the mower working and the next day was on his way to Texas to visit family. The letter from the city had to have arrived at his house during the time he was away, and by the time he got to it, his ten days to rectify the situation had become two.
The grass is mowed and should be short enough, but he's convinced that he needs to mow it more. And that's just what he is doing. Momma tried to explain to him that we will happily mow again, but he insisted that he had to come mow. I took Momma to work, and now, when I should be adding a couple hours to the couple hours of sleep I got, I'm sitting here not sleeping and not doing shit else.
I only got two hours of sleep because I went to visit a boy after work last night. Nothing happened but lots of talking. I didn't even drink beer. None of that's the point, but it is why I need to be asleep right now and why I got only two hours of the precious stuff.
There are a few maintenance issues that we've overlooked around the house, things that very much need to be taken care of as well as some minor issues that are really more aesthetic. The grass is the main irritant in that I just don't care. There, I've said it. I really don't care about the grass. I'm more than willing to keep it short enough for the kids to be able to play, but the very back part where the rabbits live, well I'd just as soon let that part grow a little. It's not hurting anyone for my grass to be slightly longer than theirs.
There's the big pisser for me, that someone has so little to do that they can take the time to be upset that I'm less concerned about the appearance of my yard than they are. Someone who doesn't have to live my life or raise my children or whatever is forcing their ideals of proper lawn maintenance onto me. And yes I do realize that there are other concerns and that I'm somewhat simplifying the issue. Trust me, I don't give a shit.
Momma's grandfather got a letter very recently saying that he had till tomorrow to mow the grass. It's been mowed, though it did once again grow over long because, once again, the mower didn't want to work.
Grandfather came over recently and got the mower working and the next day was on his way to Texas to visit family. The letter from the city had to have arrived at his house during the time he was away, and by the time he got to it, his ten days to rectify the situation had become two.
The grass is mowed and should be short enough, but he's convinced that he needs to mow it more. And that's just what he is doing. Momma tried to explain to him that we will happily mow again, but he insisted that he had to come mow. I took Momma to work, and now, when I should be adding a couple hours to the couple hours of sleep I got, I'm sitting here not sleeping and not doing shit else.
I only got two hours of sleep because I went to visit a boy after work last night. Nothing happened but lots of talking. I didn't even drink beer. None of that's the point, but it is why I need to be asleep right now and why I got only two hours of the precious stuff.
There are a few maintenance issues that we've overlooked around the house, things that very much need to be taken care of as well as some minor issues that are really more aesthetic. The grass is the main irritant in that I just don't care. There, I've said it. I really don't care about the grass. I'm more than willing to keep it short enough for the kids to be able to play, but the very back part where the rabbits live, well I'd just as soon let that part grow a little. It's not hurting anyone for my grass to be slightly longer than theirs.
There's the big pisser for me, that someone has so little to do that they can take the time to be upset that I'm less concerned about the appearance of my yard than they are. Someone who doesn't have to live my life or raise my children or whatever is forcing their ideals of proper lawn maintenance onto me. And yes I do realize that there are other concerns and that I'm somewhat simplifying the issue. Trust me, I don't give a shit.
Monday, August 18, 2008
switching lanes
In derby related news we have a story that isn't nearly as new as it could be. My own place in the beautiful thing that is Hard Knox Roller Girls is changing. I've considered some different options lately, trying to decide what or even if I wanted in terms of derby.
Announcing derby has been fun, and I'm glad I got to do it. It will be interesting to see what the new guys have to say. I hope they take the time to think about it. I hope they know the game and can help people understand and appreciate derby. I think fan's ability to get the game is so important in making derby something that will be around.
Instead of a microphone I get a microphone and a camera. I get the camera either tonight or tomorrow or Wednesday. There's old(srsly old) bout footage on it now. The person who has the camera is uploading it and will get it to me tonight if it's done in time for the meeting at which she'll see and give it to Momma. If not then the camera may or may not show up by tomorrow, and if it's not, Wednesday is the key day. I have to figure out how to operate it, and with my techno slow style that takes time.
Also I have to figure out what I'm gonna do. I get a camera and get to walk around making video. We're going to post what I record on YouTube and possibly on the local version KnoxTube. There are much more professional people concerned with getting bout footage, so my job will be to find things worth watching, interview skaters and family and fans and refs. I hope it doesn't suck, and I hope the sound of my voice doesn't make me any more mental than I already am lately.
Whatever happens I'll try to post as I know more.
Announcing derby has been fun, and I'm glad I got to do it. It will be interesting to see what the new guys have to say. I hope they take the time to think about it. I hope they know the game and can help people understand and appreciate derby. I think fan's ability to get the game is so important in making derby something that will be around.
Instead of a microphone I get a microphone and a camera. I get the camera either tonight or tomorrow or Wednesday. There's old(srsly old) bout footage on it now. The person who has the camera is uploading it and will get it to me tonight if it's done in time for the meeting at which she'll see and give it to Momma. If not then the camera may or may not show up by tomorrow, and if it's not, Wednesday is the key day. I have to figure out how to operate it, and with my techno slow style that takes time.
Also I have to figure out what I'm gonna do. I get a camera and get to walk around making video. We're going to post what I record on YouTube and possibly on the local version KnoxTube. There are much more professional people concerned with getting bout footage, so my job will be to find things worth watching, interview skaters and family and fans and refs. I hope it doesn't suck, and I hope the sound of my voice doesn't make me any more mental than I already am lately.
Whatever happens I'll try to post as I know more.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
aaahhh Paris
Isn't it amazing how the least little thing can elevate one's opinion of another? Take the pointlessly famous Paris Hilton for example. Only in the US can someone so seemingly vapid actually find that she has a chance at the White House. Okay, not really, but when John McCain decided to use her in an ad, she fought back with her own ad, presented below. I might have to vote for her instead.
See more Paris Hilton videos at Funny or Die
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Just for the heckuvit I'm sticking a video in here. A friend of mine likes to spend his days searching music on YouTube so that he can send thousands of Myspace bulletins per day(okay, maybe just several-ish) containing those same videos. Much of my Myspace time is spent opening then ignoring his bulletins as I just don't have time in my life for the doom filled black metal he too often enjoys.
One of today's video offerings was New Bomb Turks Leaving Town
As soon as the song began playing, okay after the little piano sort of sound, The Boy immediately began dancing. The thought suddenly occurred that the friend responsible would enjoy seeing what his video offering had caused. I filmed The Boy, nearly thirty seconds worth, and now I share with you.
One of today's video offerings was New Bomb Turks Leaving Town
As soon as the song began playing, okay after the little piano sort of sound, The Boy immediately began dancing. The thought suddenly occurred that the friend responsible would enjoy seeing what his video offering had caused. I filmed The Boy, nearly thirty seconds worth, and now I share with you.
finally
Remember this post from just over a week ago in which I complained about a pain in my chest from hanging halfway into the bath tub so I could wash my hair? If you don't remember feel free to go back and look. It's easily one of my more recent posts. Seriously.
Okay, the point here is the picture of the hair. I swore then something about cutting it, and I finally did. It's not as short as I originally thought I might go, but it's also not bad.
Yes, I also agree that this isn't the greatest picture. I took it myself, and this is the best of the four. The only one that doesn't have the light in the background is also the very worst one of the four, and this is the one in which you can best see the hair while also best seeing me in a somewhat less than greenish cast.
Also, please do not point out that the haircut gives me a certain big nosed Shirley Temple quality without the dancing or being annoying. I too have eyes.
Okay, the point here is the picture of the hair. I swore then something about cutting it, and I finally did. It's not as short as I originally thought I might go, but it's also not bad.
Yes, I also agree that this isn't the greatest picture. I took it myself, and this is the best of the four. The only one that doesn't have the light in the background is also the very worst one of the four, and this is the one in which you can best see the hair while also best seeing me in a somewhat less than greenish cast.Also, please do not point out that the haircut gives me a certain big nosed Shirley Temple quality without the dancing or being annoying. I too have eyes.
Monday, July 28, 2008
tears and questions
My family has a message board that we use to keep in contact with each other, and if you know my family then you also know that they are Christian. I no longer claim any religion and in fact am quite agnostic in my lack of beliefs. Knowing this it should come as no surprise that I don't really believe in prayer. Sometimes however it doesn't hurt to ask for it anyway, so I'm posting my prayer request to my family here, though I'll add a bit at the end to help explain yet another reason that this has touched so many lives.
Again, I'm not a person who prays or tends to believe in prayer, but if ever a community needs it I think now is that time.
This post is also posted HERE at my other blog.
Sunday morning at Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church the main service was a play being performed by children. In addition to church members, several non member families with children were in attendance. A man entered the church with a shotgun and began shooting later revealing that his initial plan had been to shoot as many people as could before the police arrived and killed him.Because it doesn't really have a place in my family's message board I didn't add that the shooter's motivation in picking this church had to do with the liberal leanings as well as the openness to and acceptance of the gay community. This is why it touches so many people, because this church is such a presence in our community in fighting for social justice, acceptance and equality.
Two men were able to subdue the gunman while other people were able to lead the children away to another church next door.
We have many friends who are members at this church and who were in attendance. We've also used some of the church facilities for homeschool meetings, bad weather days, potlucks, etc.
Everyone involved needs prayers at this time including the gunman as well as so many random people in this town. So many people who are not members of this church know and have friends who do attend. This church has quite a reach so that so many people have been affected without being directly involved.
Again, I'm not a person who prays or tends to believe in prayer, but if ever a community needs it I think now is that time.
This post is also posted HERE at my other blog.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
get mom out cuz she like totally needs to get some
Below find the newest spam message I've recieved via Myspace. It's a new one on me. I love the way the writer/sender starts out, complementing my weapon grade eyes, but they what follows is sort of a dick-in-the-dirt kind of let down.
I actually slipped away from Myspace for a moment to post this, leaving another message that I was sure was spam, knowing I'd go and flag it as soon as I posted my funny. Wouldn't you know the next spam message was nearly the same thing. The message was worded differently, but it was the same. It began with the same claims toward my beauty and hawtness, but very quickly we get the bait and switch and it's all about getting mom a man. The mother in the secong message enjoys wine and tequila, so maybe I should . . . or likely . . . yeah, let's go with no.
Heya there! Do you carry another weapon with you besides your eyes?Yeah, that's awesome and totally the sort of thing that's going to lift someone's soul and let it fly free in a rain of joy and love and good feelingness. The ol' switcheroo. The ol' you're-cute-meet-my-mom. Yeah, just what one needs on a Sunday morning.
Well, I know, it's sweet. You'll have a great time but not with me, I'm just helping my mother find a nice guy to date. She's entirely new to online dating. So don..t be shy and write her back, but not directly to this address. Instead, send your reply to her e-mail address at perettefmarie at yahoo. I'm positively sure that you will enjoy talking with her. She's easy-going, friendly, loyal, outgoing, funny, smart and kickass. She enjoys relaxing, she loves listening to music from iTunes, trying new exotic recipes, reading, painting � she's very talented and when she has time, she likes taking leisurely bicycle rides around town. She loves guys who are smart, charming and adventurous. Surprise her with chocolate or with some flowers, she'd really be pleased with that!
I hope you write back, ask her for pictures. She's beautiful. I havta run, thanks for your time btw! Bye.
I actually slipped away from Myspace for a moment to post this, leaving another message that I was sure was spam, knowing I'd go and flag it as soon as I posted my funny. Wouldn't you know the next spam message was nearly the same thing. The message was worded differently, but it was the same. It began with the same claims toward my beauty and hawtness, but very quickly we get the bait and switch and it's all about getting mom a man. The mother in the secong message enjoys wine and tequila, so maybe I should . . . or likely . . . yeah, let's go with no.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
more tales of balance
As Momma has continued to mention, and as I've come to realize has more merit than I've given credit, there is a certain beauty in striving for balance. I can't say it's always easy, because it's actually seldom easy. It's . . . well . . . it's a balancing act.
There is a certain balancing act that I face a certain five days of the week. I call these work days. There are myriad semi-battles with balance I face that don't occur each work day, and honestly those semi-battles could easily hinge on which particular server happens to be working that particular shift and whether or not it's that one guy I can't make myself not have a crush on, but that's a whole other story for a different day and a different blog.
My underwear of choice has been boxers for everyday wear and boxer briefs for soccer. Not finding ourselves in soccer season, I've worn only boxers for quite some time. I have two choices of them, one slightly thicker/heavier than the other, and I have an equal number of pairs from which to choose between the two different fabrics. When I took my shower yesterday, I found that my only clean option was the last of the thicker fabric pair.
On a whim I chose to go with the boxer briefs that I tend to save for soccer. They are snug fitting though thicker than the less thick boxers. I hoped that perhaps the boxer briefs might be more comfortable for work.
Work . . . unless you've done the job you can't really appreciate what I have in mind when I think of choosing underwear based on work. It's a hot and sweaty job, and if you are even close to as anal retentive as I am then it only makes sense.
We finally get to discussing balance with my anal need to have my clothes fit just so. I have to wear pants with a belt, and if you are familiar with typical chef's pants then you know you don't get that. I wear jeans, not the wisest choice, but I'm okay with it. Add to this the chef's coat and the apron. I'm not comfortable unless my apron is tied below my belt. For this to work I have to give myself plenty of space in the chef's coat.
Plenty of room in the chef's coat means that I raise my arms and shoulders, stretching and pulling the chef's coat up. The apron goes in somewhere above the tail of the chef's coat but below the belt. If I get everything right the apron keeps everything in place while the stretching gives me enough extra space to reach as far as I might need to without pulling the chef's coat out of the apron string.
Add to all of this the fact that underwear never tends to ride down. Boxers are the worst for riding up. When the waste of your boxers are approaching your ribs and your apron strings are slipping past the belt, you realize you've lost your balance, and everything is riding up and away from where you(I) really want it. You can try to ease everything back down, or you can accept that you don't have time to fix anything and there's food that needs to go out. Finally, at some point, I'm just too anal to deal with it. I have to take the apron all the way off and settle the chef's coat and the boxers and reapply the apron.
But with the soccer underwear, the boxer briefs, the underwear doesn't really quite ride up. It is nice to run your thumbs around the waste band at the end of the night when you finally get a chance to pee, loosen up the sweat stick. But that's the same anytime you finally get a chance to pee. The point is they didn't ride up. I can more slightly easily deal with the rest of my gear riding up if my underwear isn't in my armpits.
I might have just sold myself on my soccer britches being my new work britches too. I don't know just yet as I'll have to experiment more, but we'll know soon enough.
There is a certain balancing act that I face a certain five days of the week. I call these work days. There are myriad semi-battles with balance I face that don't occur each work day, and honestly those semi-battles could easily hinge on which particular server happens to be working that particular shift and whether or not it's that one guy I can't make myself not have a crush on, but that's a whole other story for a different day and a different blog.
My underwear of choice has been boxers for everyday wear and boxer briefs for soccer. Not finding ourselves in soccer season, I've worn only boxers for quite some time. I have two choices of them, one slightly thicker/heavier than the other, and I have an equal number of pairs from which to choose between the two different fabrics. When I took my shower yesterday, I found that my only clean option was the last of the thicker fabric pair.
On a whim I chose to go with the boxer briefs that I tend to save for soccer. They are snug fitting though thicker than the less thick boxers. I hoped that perhaps the boxer briefs might be more comfortable for work.
Work . . . unless you've done the job you can't really appreciate what I have in mind when I think of choosing underwear based on work. It's a hot and sweaty job, and if you are even close to as anal retentive as I am then it only makes sense.
We finally get to discussing balance with my anal need to have my clothes fit just so. I have to wear pants with a belt, and if you are familiar with typical chef's pants then you know you don't get that. I wear jeans, not the wisest choice, but I'm okay with it. Add to this the chef's coat and the apron. I'm not comfortable unless my apron is tied below my belt. For this to work I have to give myself plenty of space in the chef's coat.
Plenty of room in the chef's coat means that I raise my arms and shoulders, stretching and pulling the chef's coat up. The apron goes in somewhere above the tail of the chef's coat but below the belt. If I get everything right the apron keeps everything in place while the stretching gives me enough extra space to reach as far as I might need to without pulling the chef's coat out of the apron string.
Add to all of this the fact that underwear never tends to ride down. Boxers are the worst for riding up. When the waste of your boxers are approaching your ribs and your apron strings are slipping past the belt, you realize you've lost your balance, and everything is riding up and away from where you(I) really want it. You can try to ease everything back down, or you can accept that you don't have time to fix anything and there's food that needs to go out. Finally, at some point, I'm just too anal to deal with it. I have to take the apron all the way off and settle the chef's coat and the boxers and reapply the apron.
But with the soccer underwear, the boxer briefs, the underwear doesn't really quite ride up. It is nice to run your thumbs around the waste band at the end of the night when you finally get a chance to pee, loosen up the sweat stick. But that's the same anytime you finally get a chance to pee. The point is they didn't ride up. I can more slightly easily deal with the rest of my gear riding up if my underwear isn't in my armpits.
I might have just sold myself on my soccer britches being my new work britches too. I don't know just yet as I'll have to experiment more, but we'll know soon enough.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
ouchie
My chest hurts, and I know why. I washed my hair in the bathtub, and the rolled up beach towel on the edge of the tub wasn't enough padding. Or maybe it's just a bad idea to lean over the side of the tub. It's easier than the sink though.
I worked yesterday(Saturday) and actually worked later than I generally would have on a Saturday, but Momma was really busy Friday night, and she and the rest of the kitchen used up nearly everything we'd prepped for them.
Yesterday was also the day of Ska Weekend, an annual, local ska music festival I've blogged about before. It's even had its own tag for maybe a couple of years. Last year even saw me posting videos of some of the bands I was looking forward to seeing. I wasn't that good about it this year, but as an excuse I'll offer that it happened about a month earlier than usual. Also I wasn't horribly interested in most of the bands playing.
As it turns out, the new venue that hosted Ska Weekend this year is truly one of my least favorite of all the venues I've visited in this town. I'm just not a huge fan of the south lawn of World's Fair Park, especially when you sit in the middle of the sun baked field and remember past shows in the Old City.
I imagine having worked nearly nine hours before rushing home to wash my hair and change clothes before rushing back out to stand in more heat didn't help. Having friends in from out of town helped, and it was nice to be able to sit back on the lawn while the boys had plenty of space to run around. Really the only thing missing from WFP is some nice big trees to make some shade.
And now, my chest hurts. It was all that leaning over the side of the tub. And really, the blame goes to me for not having gotten a haircut. It's still growing, though that part really isn't a surprise. I even have to pull my hair back at work because I can't stand the feel of it sticking to my sweaty neck, and then I leave it tied up. And it really is a tiny pony tail and most ridiculous looking I'm sure. I can't actually see it, but I'm quite certain it's at the very least ridiculous.
I've said this to Momma many times, but I'm about ready to cut it all off and end the stupid experiment once and for all. It's crazy and gets big kinks in it and half the time is like a cloud floating around my head. It looks okay right after a shower when it's almost all the way dry. The rest of time it's just . . .
I don't know. It isn't really that long yet, and summer is almost over, so the heat thing won't be a factor. I don't know.
I worked yesterday(Saturday) and actually worked later than I generally would have on a Saturday, but Momma was really busy Friday night, and she and the rest of the kitchen used up nearly everything we'd prepped for them.
Yesterday was also the day of Ska Weekend, an annual, local ska music festival I've blogged about before. It's even had its own tag for maybe a couple of years. Last year even saw me posting videos of some of the bands I was looking forward to seeing. I wasn't that good about it this year, but as an excuse I'll offer that it happened about a month earlier than usual. Also I wasn't horribly interested in most of the bands playing.
As it turns out, the new venue that hosted Ska Weekend this year is truly one of my least favorite of all the venues I've visited in this town. I'm just not a huge fan of the south lawn of World's Fair Park, especially when you sit in the middle of the sun baked field and remember past shows in the Old City.
I imagine having worked nearly nine hours before rushing home to wash my hair and change clothes before rushing back out to stand in more heat didn't help. Having friends in from out of town helped, and it was nice to be able to sit back on the lawn while the boys had plenty of space to run around. Really the only thing missing from WFP is some nice big trees to make some shade.
And now, my chest hurts. It was all that leaning over the side of the tub. And really, the blame goes to me for not having gotten a haircut. It's still growing, though that part really isn't a surprise. I even have to pull my hair back at work because I can't stand the feel of it sticking to my sweaty neck, and then I leave it tied up. And it really is a tiny pony tail and most ridiculous looking I'm sure. I can't actually see it, but I'm quite certain it's at the very least ridiculous.
I've said this to Momma many times, but I'm about ready to cut it all off and end the stupid experiment once and for all. It's crazy and gets big kinks in it and half the time is like a cloud floating around my head. It looks okay right after a shower when it's almost all the way dry. The rest of time it's just . . .
I don't know. It isn't really that long yet, and summer is almost over, so the heat thing won't be a factor. I don't know.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
insert classic monty python line about not beind dead yet here
This blog is not dead. Yes, I haven't posted in about ten days, and it was probably about ten days before that that I posted last before that, or something.
I have in fact had quite a bit on my mind, stuff that I should probably post about, get it out of my head a little bit. Sunshine is a great disinfectant, and airing out my consciousness would probably help me think through things a bit. I might save all that for the gay blog, because I want to get this one back to what it was when I was happiest with it.
What do I need to get back there?
-mindless rants with lots of cussing
-word of the day? what ever happened to that little fucker?
-book sort-of-reviews-nothing but gay fiction lately and an autobiography of Edmund White (totally gay)
-videos of awesome music that you probably ignore
-mindless rants about things other people post that I should read more deeply into so I don't rant and sound like a douche
Yeah, that about wraps up all the stuff I miss doing. It just feels so often that my head is filled to overflowing with thoughts of things I can't quite control, so instead of placing them in a place where I don't obsess, I let those thoughts take over and push aside all the things I should be doing and/or thinking about.
And that's where we find ourselves as of now. I'm working on getting back to this. I'm needing more than ever to just get my thoughts out of my head. That's what writing is to me, and that's what I need.
That and a tall dark hair/eyed boy, but that's a whole 'nother post for another day.
I have in fact had quite a bit on my mind, stuff that I should probably post about, get it out of my head a little bit. Sunshine is a great disinfectant, and airing out my consciousness would probably help me think through things a bit. I might save all that for the gay blog, because I want to get this one back to what it was when I was happiest with it.
What do I need to get back there?
-mindless rants with lots of cussing
-word of the day? what ever happened to that little fucker?
-book sort-of-reviews-nothing but gay fiction lately and an autobiography of Edmund White (totally gay)
-videos of awesome music that you probably ignore
-mindless rants about things other people post that I should read more deeply into so I don't rant and sound like a douche
Yeah, that about wraps up all the stuff I miss doing. It just feels so often that my head is filled to overflowing with thoughts of things I can't quite control, so instead of placing them in a place where I don't obsess, I let those thoughts take over and push aside all the things I should be doing and/or thinking about.
And that's where we find ourselves as of now. I'm working on getting back to this. I'm needing more than ever to just get my thoughts out of my head. That's what writing is to me, and that's what I need.
That and a tall dark hair/eyed boy, but that's a whole 'nother post for another day.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
two songs in my head
I became aware of Webb Pierce as a person a few short years ago. A local radio station would play songs he'd written being performed by other people from a tribute album title Caught in the Webb. They played a very few of the songs, and I happened to catch them randomly as I so seldom listen to the actual radio.
Caught in the Webb was one of our recent library finds, and as soon as I saw it I knew I was checking it out. Momma and I have both fallen in love with the album. The very first time I listened to I realized how many of Webb Pierce's songs I've known and how few of those songs I'd known he'd written.
One of the songs that jumped out from the very first listen is the song that's been stuck in my head ever since. The song is Wondering and is performed on the album by Emmylou Harris. I've been aware of her as well, but I never really paid a lot of attention. I know I've heard her. I know I've enjoyed her, but I just didn't bother doing anything about.
Then the album was there at the library, and then it was in the cd player of the car as we drove away from the library. Then Wondering came on, Emmylou Harris singing in her voice that I can't even attempt to describe.
A quick search around the dusty corners of YouTube proved that I would not be able to share Emmylou Harris's version of the song, but I did so want to share her voice. So I present two videos, the first being Webb Pierce singing Wondering and the second is Emmylou Harris singing the song Making Believe, another song I love, written by Kitty Wells.
Caught in the Webb was one of our recent library finds, and as soon as I saw it I knew I was checking it out. Momma and I have both fallen in love with the album. The very first time I listened to I realized how many of Webb Pierce's songs I've known and how few of those songs I'd known he'd written.
One of the songs that jumped out from the very first listen is the song that's been stuck in my head ever since. The song is Wondering and is performed on the album by Emmylou Harris. I've been aware of her as well, but I never really paid a lot of attention. I know I've heard her. I know I've enjoyed her, but I just didn't bother doing anything about.
Then the album was there at the library, and then it was in the cd player of the car as we drove away from the library. Then Wondering came on, Emmylou Harris singing in her voice that I can't even attempt to describe.
A quick search around the dusty corners of YouTube proved that I would not be able to share Emmylou Harris's version of the song, but I did so want to share her voice. So I present two videos, the first being Webb Pierce singing Wondering and the second is Emmylou Harris singing the song Making Believe, another song I love, written by Kitty Wells.
Monday, June 30, 2008
if it was . . .
Sometimes I catch myself almost saying things to the kids that I would have no problem saying to any of my grown up friends but that are fairly inappropriate to say to children.
An example:
"I'm trying to find that Spiderman book that Momma used to decorate that cake," Big Brother said.
And the thing I would have said to a grown up friend but caught myself in time not to say to him:
"If it was up your butt you'd know."
An example:
"I'm trying to find that Spiderman book that Momma used to decorate that cake," Big Brother said.
And the thing I would have said to a grown up friend but caught myself in time not to say to him:
"If it was up your butt you'd know."
the fight
Okay, so it never actually ended up in a real fight, but the negativity swirling around between me and the guy we'll call Jim was at a level that no one could have missed. It wasn't something I wanted or looked for, and I completely failed several times to follow up on the request from Jim to, "Go ahead. Hit me."
I'm calling him Jim because, lately, this guy looks like fat, stoned and nearly dead Jim Morrison from the end of The Doors movie.
When I first met Jim he was dating a girl we'll call M. I had hired her at the pizza place I worked at the time, and she turned out to be one of the people I was most happy to have hired. She worked hard, learned fast, had a good enough attitude in general. While I don't currently see her very often she remains a friend and someone I'm always happy to run into. Jim not so much, but I've never disliked him so much. It's that he just tends to come across as a bit of a prick. They haven't actually dated or been a couple for a few years, and some of what I know he's done in terms of relationships with others tends to lower my opinion of him, though honestly the majority of it is none of my business. Sometimes people have a way of making their business become your business as you shall soon see.
Last night saw me attend a going away party for a friend who is all too soon leaving our fair city to move to the west coast. I arrived late to find that nearly everyone else was already well into the keg of beer. I'd had a few beers spread throughout the day, but I was in no way intoxicated as of the point when I arrived.
Jim and M talked throughout the night, and I could tell from the attitudes they displayed that it wasn't a pleasant sort of conversation. She would talk to him until he got annoying at which point she would try to move away. At some point, when the two of them were not talking, I was talking with M and a friend of hers who pointed out M's need to move to a different part of the house in an attempt to avoid Jim who was becoming increasingly belligerent.
The party was mainly in the back of the house and on the back deck, so I suggested that M and I go sit on the front porch. We took our beers and made our way outside to sit on the porch swing where we were having a fine time. She was a bit drunk, and I was on my way as we discussed the most random things. It wasn't long however until Jim again inserted himself into what should have been a fun and peaceful moment.
I could tell that M was in no mood or state to be left alone with Jim who was unwilling to leave her alone. She really needed to not have to deal with his shit, but she also still cares for him very much. I could also tell that my presence at this time was preferable to his, so I stayed in place, trying to allow Jim his space to talk while not allowing him to push me away or make M feel any worse than she did.
And that was really Jim's problem at this point that he was badgering M, trying to guilt her into agreeing with his point, quite likely trying to get her to come home with him. It wasn't going to happen, and I could tell just from M's body language that she was growing more and more upset. Jim was growing frustrated and angry especially when I pointed out how nice a time M and I had been having before he fumbled his way over. He of course tried to use this to further batter M with the suggestion that she obviously loved me more than him. He was acting quite disturbed by this point, especially when he grabbed my shirt in an attempt to forcibly remove me from the porch swing and the conversation he was failing to have.
I jumped quickly to my feet, removing his hands from me and shoving him away from me which only served, in Jim's mind, to prove his accusations. The conversation devolved quickly from that point, though Jim did walk away for the fewest of seconds. I was trying to make sure that M knew I would stay with her or walk away and let her talk to Jim as she wanted, when he came back around the corner in time to hear just enough of the conversation to know that he was the subject. That caused even more drama, though it did almost get rid of him. He had his backpack and actually made it to the street before turning back to once more plead in the most drunken and ridiculous manner for M to please do what he wanted and for me to please leave.
I wanted so bad at different points to just have it out, to hit him, to beat his ass, to fuck his whole world up, but I also am not the kind of person who generally feels that way. I don't fight. I don't want to be pushed to the point where I feel as if I'm being forced to fight, partly because I know precisely what sort of fighter I would be. The rage switch would flip on and someone, either me or him is anyone's guess, would be completely beaten senseless. I'm not saying this as a brag or to sound like some sort of bad ass, but of the few things I know about myself, the flipping the fuck out thing is one that secretly scares me sometimes.
The closest it actually came to a fight I had finally had enough of Jim's shit. We were back in the house, and everyone there, the people who'd been ignoring Jim's shit, were finally seeing it in its full shitty glory. I'd had enough and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and back him forcibly against a wall. I was in his face explaining angrily exactly why what he was doing made him a douche bag and telling him just how much he really did finally need to get his shit and fucking go. He just kept pointing to his face and asking me to hit him. I almost wanted to so much.
The not fight was quickly broken up as various people finally jumped in and pulled us apart. A friend of Jim's went with him as they left, and I followed them to the door, watching to be sure they actually left this time. They were actually nice enough, as they reached the street, to remind me that, in their opinion, I'm no more than a fucking faggot, and I had to point out how easy that was to say with the whole yard and the fence between them and me. They reiterated their opinion about me and continued to walk away.
Then I went in the bathroom and cried, but just a little.
And now I've got a whole new subject to brood and obsess over, at least for the day. My brain has to over think everything in order to process it, and that's where I've been stuck.
So, how's your day?
I'm calling him Jim because, lately, this guy looks like fat, stoned and nearly dead Jim Morrison from the end of The Doors movie.
When I first met Jim he was dating a girl we'll call M. I had hired her at the pizza place I worked at the time, and she turned out to be one of the people I was most happy to have hired. She worked hard, learned fast, had a good enough attitude in general. While I don't currently see her very often she remains a friend and someone I'm always happy to run into. Jim not so much, but I've never disliked him so much. It's that he just tends to come across as a bit of a prick. They haven't actually dated or been a couple for a few years, and some of what I know he's done in terms of relationships with others tends to lower my opinion of him, though honestly the majority of it is none of my business. Sometimes people have a way of making their business become your business as you shall soon see.
Last night saw me attend a going away party for a friend who is all too soon leaving our fair city to move to the west coast. I arrived late to find that nearly everyone else was already well into the keg of beer. I'd had a few beers spread throughout the day, but I was in no way intoxicated as of the point when I arrived.
Jim and M talked throughout the night, and I could tell from the attitudes they displayed that it wasn't a pleasant sort of conversation. She would talk to him until he got annoying at which point she would try to move away. At some point, when the two of them were not talking, I was talking with M and a friend of hers who pointed out M's need to move to a different part of the house in an attempt to avoid Jim who was becoming increasingly belligerent.
The party was mainly in the back of the house and on the back deck, so I suggested that M and I go sit on the front porch. We took our beers and made our way outside to sit on the porch swing where we were having a fine time. She was a bit drunk, and I was on my way as we discussed the most random things. It wasn't long however until Jim again inserted himself into what should have been a fun and peaceful moment.
I could tell that M was in no mood or state to be left alone with Jim who was unwilling to leave her alone. She really needed to not have to deal with his shit, but she also still cares for him very much. I could also tell that my presence at this time was preferable to his, so I stayed in place, trying to allow Jim his space to talk while not allowing him to push me away or make M feel any worse than she did.
And that was really Jim's problem at this point that he was badgering M, trying to guilt her into agreeing with his point, quite likely trying to get her to come home with him. It wasn't going to happen, and I could tell just from M's body language that she was growing more and more upset. Jim was growing frustrated and angry especially when I pointed out how nice a time M and I had been having before he fumbled his way over. He of course tried to use this to further batter M with the suggestion that she obviously loved me more than him. He was acting quite disturbed by this point, especially when he grabbed my shirt in an attempt to forcibly remove me from the porch swing and the conversation he was failing to have.
I jumped quickly to my feet, removing his hands from me and shoving him away from me which only served, in Jim's mind, to prove his accusations. The conversation devolved quickly from that point, though Jim did walk away for the fewest of seconds. I was trying to make sure that M knew I would stay with her or walk away and let her talk to Jim as she wanted, when he came back around the corner in time to hear just enough of the conversation to know that he was the subject. That caused even more drama, though it did almost get rid of him. He had his backpack and actually made it to the street before turning back to once more plead in the most drunken and ridiculous manner for M to please do what he wanted and for me to please leave.
I wanted so bad at different points to just have it out, to hit him, to beat his ass, to fuck his whole world up, but I also am not the kind of person who generally feels that way. I don't fight. I don't want to be pushed to the point where I feel as if I'm being forced to fight, partly because I know precisely what sort of fighter I would be. The rage switch would flip on and someone, either me or him is anyone's guess, would be completely beaten senseless. I'm not saying this as a brag or to sound like some sort of bad ass, but of the few things I know about myself, the flipping the fuck out thing is one that secretly scares me sometimes.
The closest it actually came to a fight I had finally had enough of Jim's shit. We were back in the house, and everyone there, the people who'd been ignoring Jim's shit, were finally seeing it in its full shitty glory. I'd had enough and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and back him forcibly against a wall. I was in his face explaining angrily exactly why what he was doing made him a douche bag and telling him just how much he really did finally need to get his shit and fucking go. He just kept pointing to his face and asking me to hit him. I almost wanted to so much.
The not fight was quickly broken up as various people finally jumped in and pulled us apart. A friend of Jim's went with him as they left, and I followed them to the door, watching to be sure they actually left this time. They were actually nice enough, as they reached the street, to remind me that, in their opinion, I'm no more than a fucking faggot, and I had to point out how easy that was to say with the whole yard and the fence between them and me. They reiterated their opinion about me and continued to walk away.
Then I went in the bathroom and cried, but just a little.
And now I've got a whole new subject to brood and obsess over, at least for the day. My brain has to over think everything in order to process it, and that's where I've been stuck.
So, how's your day?
Sunday, June 29, 2008
update=boring post fodder
Here's a bit of a post to prove I'm still alive. I'm stuck in the same rut as ever, go to work, come home, drink some beer, go to bed, go to work, come home, rinse, repeat.
I've been really restless lately, wanting to do . . . something . . . not sure what.
I did quite enjoy watching what I was able to of the Euro 2008 tournament. For anyone unfamiliar with European soccer, please google it and get your own idea of what happened over the past couple of weeks. Basically the national teams of the different countries in Europe all got together at some point in the last year or so and played to find out who would actually go on to the tournament. The final game was played today between Germany and Spain.
In general, because I have a bit of a crush on one of the German players I'd have maybe leaned slightly toward them as far as fandom goes, but today I was a huge Spain fan. They haven't won in something like forty to fifty years (have more hot players.) They were also assumed to be the underdog, and that always gets me. They were certainly no underdog, controlling the ball and the entire game in my opinion, and they walked away with a one to zero win.
Before that I got to watch DC United beat the ever loving shit out of LA, a team I will nearly always cheer against. I don't like Landon Donovan very much, though the episode of Cribs that he was on helped me dislike him slightly less. If he ever decidedes to use his skill for the US men's team then I might change my mind, but his ass turns puss in international games, and I'm tired of seeing that.
I'm having truck problems again. It decided a couple weeks after getting a new battery to just stop working. I discovered one problem was a worn out battery cable clamp and replaced that to learn that there is still something wrong. No amount of attempting to jump start it will help, so we're a one car family again.
Speaking of one car, the one car needs some tender loving maintainence. It's a tiny (lot) bit past due for an oil change which I keep insisting I'm going to do myself, and I will. The brakes are a little soft as I've still not found the time to bleed the brake lines, so we play chicken with our mortality every time we drive (though not really.)
Not sure if I mentioned it, but Momma has rejoined her roller derby sisters and is working hard to get back in shape, hoping to bout as soon as possible. She was sorely missed by both derby girls as well as fans, and her reappearance on the rink will be truly exciting.
I've really run out of anything I'm willing to talk about here. You've got an update out of me, and soon I hope to get back to some reasonable facsimile of my old blogging self. And that's all you get.
I've been really restless lately, wanting to do . . . something . . . not sure what.
I did quite enjoy watching what I was able to of the Euro 2008 tournament. For anyone unfamiliar with European soccer, please google it and get your own idea of what happened over the past couple of weeks. Basically the national teams of the different countries in Europe all got together at some point in the last year or so and played to find out who would actually go on to the tournament. The final game was played today between Germany and Spain.
In general, because I have a bit of a crush on one of the German players I'd have maybe leaned slightly toward them as far as fandom goes, but today I was a huge Spain fan. They haven't won in something like forty to fifty years (have more hot players.) They were also assumed to be the underdog, and that always gets me. They were certainly no underdog, controlling the ball and the entire game in my opinion, and they walked away with a one to zero win.
Before that I got to watch DC United beat the ever loving shit out of LA, a team I will nearly always cheer against. I don't like Landon Donovan very much, though the episode of Cribs that he was on helped me dislike him slightly less. If he ever decidedes to use his skill for the US men's team then I might change my mind, but his ass turns puss in international games, and I'm tired of seeing that.
I'm having truck problems again. It decided a couple weeks after getting a new battery to just stop working. I discovered one problem was a worn out battery cable clamp and replaced that to learn that there is still something wrong. No amount of attempting to jump start it will help, so we're a one car family again.
Speaking of one car, the one car needs some tender loving maintainence. It's a tiny (lot) bit past due for an oil change which I keep insisting I'm going to do myself, and I will. The brakes are a little soft as I've still not found the time to bleed the brake lines, so we play chicken with our mortality every time we drive (though not really.)
Not sure if I mentioned it, but Momma has rejoined her roller derby sisters and is working hard to get back in shape, hoping to bout as soon as possible. She was sorely missed by both derby girls as well as fans, and her reappearance on the rink will be truly exciting.
I've really run out of anything I'm willing to talk about here. You've got an update out of me, and soon I hope to get back to some reasonable facsimile of my old blogging self. And that's all you get.
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