Thanks to Meg of Get In, Hang On for the softball. I love easy memes, because it makes it so easy to come up with a post, and this is a fun one. It's all about food, baby, so here we go.
What's the last thing you ate?
I whipped up a couple packages of ramen noodles and added some leftover chicken and frozen peas. I can go a little crazy with ramen if I have a couple of extra minutes, or I can just make them plain, or I can land squarely in the middle as I did tonight.
What's your favorite cheese?
Cabot makes a really nice chipotle cheddar that's really nice, and in general I'd have to go with cheddar as a fave. I also like Manchego and really good Parmesan.
What's your favorite fish?
I don't like much fish at all, but I do like tuna. It's good and fun to play with. I can also do scallops usually, and I love calamari when it's done well, but it's so easy to fuck up if you don't know what you're doing.
What's your favorite fruit?
Probably my fave fruit is mango, but it has to be ripe enough, otherwise it's really not good at all.
When if ever did you start liking olives?
I'm up and down with olives. I tend to like them, but so many of them are new to me and can be a bit much. I'd say, if asked, my favorite is the basic Kalamata.
When, if ever, did you start liking beer?
I'm a bit of a lush, and I tend to go with beer almost exclusively. It was in Charlotte, NC somewhere around 12-13 years ago, that I started drinking better beers than the typical American stuff, though I tend when on a budget to stick with Miller High Life.
When, if ever, did you start liking shellfish?
I really only like scallops, and I've liked them since I first had them, but like anything, they really have to be cooked right, because they are so easy to ruin.
What was the best thing your parent/s used to make?
My mom's lasagna was my absolute favorite food growing up, though pretty much everything she cooked was good. Her biscuits began my lifelong love of them, but I tend to use Alton Brown's recipe these days. It's actually not that different from my mom's, and while Alton calls for half shortening and half butter I just use butter.
What's the native specialty of your hometown?
Atlanta, where I grew up, doesn't seem to have a native specialty that I can think of. If you want to go with my current home of Knoxville then I would have to guess something like mets and beans or a full house which is a tamale and chili dish. These were popularized in my town's early days, and they aren't as readily available now, but that may the closest we have to a native specialty. Anyone showing up from around these parts is more than willing to argue this point and give me something different to check on.
What's your comfort food?
Probably beer. It gives me comfort. Other than that I might go with biscuits.
What's your favorite kind of chocolate?
Dark, dark and dark.
How do you like your steak?
I like them just past rare, almost medium rare, and I think the only cut of meat worth eating as a steak is a ribeye with a nice bit of fat around the edge, the fat a little crispy from cooking.
How do you like your burger?
Medium rare to medium, mayo, mustard, ketchup, bacon, cheddar, tomato, onion, dill pickle slices, messy and dripping down my fingers.
How do you like your eggs?
Scrambled usually, but I also love them fried till the yolk is firm and the edge of the whites is brown and crispy, and I love boiled eggs as well, but the latter two tend to give some irritating gas.
How do you like your potatoes?
Cooked, all sorts of ways, fried, baked, mashed, roasted, stuffed . . .
How do you take your coffee?
Strong with maybe half a spoon full of sugar and just enough half and half to lighten it a wee bit.
How do you take your tea?
I'm southern, so I like it cold and just a little sweet.
What's your favorite mug?
My coffee mug was in the house when we moved in, is rather large and has two finger wholes for a handle. Beyond that I like a large glass mug full of a hoppy pale ale.
What's your cookie of choice?
Chocolate chip or oatmeal, raisin, walnut. It's a toss up. I'll also take walnuts in the chocolate chip if it's all the same to you.
What's your ideal breakfast?
usually coffee, but given the chance I'll load up on eggs and sausage and bacon and grits and biscuits with gravy. I won't argue with some ham. A nice scone is always nice if a bit simpler.
What's your ideal sandwich?
I love a Reuben, but I don't like crappy Swiss cheese, so I usually opt for whatever other cheese is available wherever I happen to be.
What's you ideal pizza (topping and base)?
Basic thin-ish crust with pepperoni and green olives or ham and pineapple.
What's your ideal pie (sweet or savory)?
Hands down a good pecan pie is perhaps the greatest food ever created. I'd kick a nun in the cunt for a good piece of pecan pie.
What's your ideal salad?
Okay, here's my southern coming out again, but I don't give a shit so long as there's ranch dressing. I can eat and enjoy all sorts of salads, and I do love vinaigrette if it's well made, but give me ranch if you want me to be really happy.
What food do you always like to have in the fridge?
beer, milk, butter, soy sauce, ranch, mustard,
What food do you always like to have in the freezer?
I don't use the freezer a whole lot honestly. It's always nice if there's some ice cream, but other than that the only thing that regularly goes into and out of my freezer are chicken parts. We always have some amount of chicken parts so that we can always be a very few hours away from having stock.
What food do you always like to have in the cupboard?
ramen, peanut butter, graham crackers, steel cut oats
What spices can you not live without?
oregano, thyme, kosher salt, paprika, chili pepper (not powder because I can make that) cumin, coriander, peppercorns
What sauces can you not live without?
soy, I like to have some fish sauce tucked away in the fridge as well and Sriracha
Where do you buy most of your food?
Food City
How often do you go food shopping?
every couple of days. We tend to decided at the last minute what's for dinner, so we are often running to the store for last minute things. We try to keep the pantry stocked to the point where we don't need more than the basic ingredients for any meal
What's the most you've spent on a single food item?
I don't buy really expensive stuff usually. What I have spent money on are things that are just hard to find in a small town such as lemon grass. We pay a decent little bit for coffee, and I've spent over ten dollars on a six pack of beer before. Other than that it was probably a turkey or some fish that Momma got for something.
What's the most expensive piece of kitchen equipment you own?
I'm not counting appliances, so it would probably be the Kitchen Aid stand mixer, though it was a gift from my parents. Most everything I have was either a gift or hand me down.
What's the last piece of kitchen equipment you bought?
Probably the hot air popcorn popper I got for Momma last Christmas
What piece of kitchen equipment could you not live without?
Probably my knife. I can make do with lots of stuff or without lots of stuff, but a good knife can do so many things, and there are so many things you can't really do without a knife.
How many times a week/month do you cook from raw ingredients?
Almost daily, though there are a few things we get for convenience sake.
What's the last thing you cooked from raw ingredients?
I made a sausage and mushroom frittata and biscuits. I finished the leftovers for lunch today.
What's your favorite thing to make for yourself?
biscuits or scones. I know I seem a little one track with the quick breads, but I do love them so.
What meats have you eaten other than cow, pig, chicken and turkey?
elk and lamb, didn't like the lamb really, and that may be about it
When's the last time you ate something that fell on the floor?
I have no qualms about eating things that fell on the floor, depending of course on the floor.
What's the last time you ate something you picked in the wild?
um . . . perhaps never, though the church I grew up attending had pecan trees, and I may have eaten some of the pecans, but that's been nearly twenty years, give or take a couple years
Place the following cuisines in order of preference (greatest to least) Italian, sushi, French, Chinese, Indian, Thai:
Thai-absolutely love Thai food when I've had it
Indian-I'm putting second, but it's been years since the Sunday dinners at the Krishna temple
Chinese-I'm a sucker for soy sauce and what Chinese food I've had. I'm thinking my experience may be somewhat less than authentic, but it's really hard to know
Italian-cured meats and olives and roasted peppers and bread oh my
French-I think we're more used to a lot of French styles as their cuisine has so influenced western cuisine
sushi-texture issues and dislike of nori make it nearly impossible for me to enjoy sushi, but I want to love it because it may the single prettiest food
Place the following boozes in order of preference (greatest to least) whiskey, vodka, tequila, gin, brandy, rum:
Tequila-I love good tequila, chilled without the training wheels
Rum-mmmhhmm mojitos-spiced rum is also really good with sweet, iced tea
Gin-gin martini? yes please, though it has been too long. Gin makes me goofy
Vodka-is a giant meh for me because the whole point in distilling vodka is to make it as clear and flavorless as possible. At this point the only point is to get drunk, and I'm enough of a lush without insisting on it.
Brandy-really, I associate brandy with the smell it leaves on your breath, think bum asking for spare change in your personal space, and it's only not last because . . .
Whiskey-ick, gives me immediate heartburn. I don't mean some heartburn. I mean whiskey goes down, heartburn comes up, immediately.
Place the following flavors in order of preference (greatest to least) garlic, ginger, basil, aniseseed, lime:
Lime, ginger, garlic, basil, anise
Place the following fruits in order of preference (greatest to least) cherry, apple, orange, watermelon, pineapple:
Watermelon, apple, orange, cherry, pineapple
Bread and spread:
Have we covered this already? Biscuit with butter or apple butter or a mixture of mashed together butter and molasses
What's your fast food restaurant of choice and what do you usually order?
A) Chic-fil-a and I go with the chic-fil-a sandwich, waffle fries and sweet tea, or
B)Krystal where I tend to order the bacon-cheese Krystal, Krystal chik and fries, though their fries are only good when they're really hot and salty.
What are the three best dining out experiences you've ever had?
1. Probably Cha-Cha's which is sadly no longer open, and sadly, Momma and I were able to watch their demise as the food lost all relevance to the tapas bar that they were when they were good. The standout menu items were the calamari and the wild mushroom risotto
2. Brasserie(forgetting the whole name)-Christmas party for the sushi bar where Momma used to work. Standouts there were the escargot which I had for the first time and the calamari which they served with a tomato jam
3. Possibly, and this may be kind of gay, but the day I had to run errands and Cute Boyfriend went with me and took me for Mexican. Nothing really stood out other than getting to hang out with him and having most of the day to do the hanging out.
What's your choice of tipple at the end of a long day?
My new favorite beer would be Sweetwater Brewing Company's IPA, but at the end or the beginning or in the middle of any day, long or short, I'll generally be happy to enjoy a beer or two.
Favorite cookbook?
I still stand proudly by the Joy of Cooking. It's a great all around cookbook, especially if you know how and when to fix the recipes. Aside from that I love just reading any cookbook Julia Child wrote because I just love the voice she carries over into her writing, and I don't mean her actual voice voice.
Got any favorite food blogs?
Yes, David Lebovitz is probably the very top of my favorite list.
What's the next thing you'll eat?
If I can manage to get up in time tomorrow I plan to make some apricot scones, and given the state of my stressed out tummy, that needs to be the next time I eat, and I do need to be up in time to make scones, because Cute Boyfriend will be here and deserves them.
And I'm not tagging anyone. This damn meme didn't seem nearly so long when I was reading it at Meg's or at Frankie's. Go visit both those lovely ladies and see how they answered, then go back to your blog and play along. It's a true delight, and it's fun to see how others answer.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
meme the food yo
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
eureka
In a moment of clarity, driving past the mall on our western side of town today, I realized something. I may have figured out why so many people are so sincerely opposed to allowing gay people to marry, and it's both sad and understandable at the same time.
This sort of thing happens often in music and fashion. It happened somewhere in the '80's to the punks. It happened when The Cure's Just Like Heaven hit it big and again when Green Day released their album Dookie.
I remember time it happened to me, shortly after Nirvana's debut as a band with a hit song. I fell in love with it and was soon to purchase what I could of their earlier releases. I was into that kind of thing then, and I felt it went well with the Fastbacks and Mudhoney I was discovering.
Suddenly the music I felt was so much a part of me was huge and everywhere. Everyone had that same album and was wearing short sleeve shirts over long sleeve shirts. The flannels I'd grown up wearing were suddenly cool, and I was suddenly seen as one more person buying into this thing that someone decided to call grunge.
And I didn't like it. I was the cool one. I was the one that really liked it. This was my music and the damned usurpers didn't get it, only liked it because it was suddenly cool. All they were really doing was ruining what was once a great scene by making my fashion sense available at the mall.
Perhaps that's an unsaid reason for the anti-gay marriage revolt. We gays are diluting their thing. The straight people have been working on this marriage thing without us for so long that they feel some connection, that they are known by this thing. The goths wear black and the straights marry.
What if suddenly the gays start marrying each other? Before long it won't have the same value, the same street cred. It will be like anything else, and then everyone will start doing it. Before you know it Abercrombie and Fitch will start selling marriage at the mall and white boy vanilla rappers will write family friendly tunes about weddings. Soon enough it will become so passe' that, like random metal-ish riffs in a Food Network show about making Smarties candies, it will be safe and bland, will lose its power to shock.
Maybe it's not that, and I'm more than willing to admit that I could be wrong. There could be other reasons to keep us from marrying people we love, but I'd kind of like it to be my reason. Seriously, there really is only one other reason I can think of but would prefer it not be true. That reason is that they are just douche bags, and I don't want to imagine that all those people are just douche bags. It's better to think of them as Cure fans or late '70's punks. They don't want their scene watered down and usurped.
This sort of thing happens often in music and fashion. It happened somewhere in the '80's to the punks. It happened when The Cure's Just Like Heaven hit it big and again when Green Day released their album Dookie.
I remember time it happened to me, shortly after Nirvana's debut as a band with a hit song. I fell in love with it and was soon to purchase what I could of their earlier releases. I was into that kind of thing then, and I felt it went well with the Fastbacks and Mudhoney I was discovering.
Suddenly the music I felt was so much a part of me was huge and everywhere. Everyone had that same album and was wearing short sleeve shirts over long sleeve shirts. The flannels I'd grown up wearing were suddenly cool, and I was suddenly seen as one more person buying into this thing that someone decided to call grunge.
And I didn't like it. I was the cool one. I was the one that really liked it. This was my music and the damned usurpers didn't get it, only liked it because it was suddenly cool. All they were really doing was ruining what was once a great scene by making my fashion sense available at the mall.
Perhaps that's an unsaid reason for the anti-gay marriage revolt. We gays are diluting their thing. The straight people have been working on this marriage thing without us for so long that they feel some connection, that they are known by this thing. The goths wear black and the straights marry.
What if suddenly the gays start marrying each other? Before long it won't have the same value, the same street cred. It will be like anything else, and then everyone will start doing it. Before you know it Abercrombie and Fitch will start selling marriage at the mall and white boy vanilla rappers will write family friendly tunes about weddings. Soon enough it will become so passe' that, like random metal-ish riffs in a Food Network show about making Smarties candies, it will be safe and bland, will lose its power to shock.
Maybe it's not that, and I'm more than willing to admit that I could be wrong. There could be other reasons to keep us from marrying people we love, but I'd kind of like it to be my reason. Seriously, there really is only one other reason I can think of but would prefer it not be true. That reason is that they are just douche bags, and I don't want to imagine that all those people are just douche bags. It's better to think of them as Cure fans or late '70's punks. They don't want their scene watered down and usurped.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
yes we did
It feels good to say the words:
President Obama
Know what else sounds good?
Democratic senate majority
President Obama
Know what else sounds good?
Democratic senate majority
Thursday, October 30, 2008
don't be a douche
Apparently today is blog-what-other-people-blog-day at the ol' desk full. Yet another of my fave blogs has posted something worth sharing, this time a video. If you live under a rock or outside of the U.S. (is this another theme du jour?) then you may not know what California's Proposition 8 is all about. If this is true then very quickly, judges in CA decided that the state constitution makes it illegal to deny gay people the right to marry. Now a bunch of degenerates want to amend the constitution to deny us that right. Prop 8 is their attempt, and the following video explains what this is all about much more eloquently (another theme?) than I. Hat tip to Todd of Iced Tea and Sarcasm.
worth reading and sharing
Over on the left of the page you can see my shared items, stuff that came up in my reader that I felt was worth sharing with both of my readers. Just as I'm trying to write more I'm also trying to utilize the share function more.
As of this moment, the most recent addition is a blog post from a local, Larry Van Guilder. I can't say that I pick up the paper he writes for very often, but his blog is in my reader, so I do get to read his stuff when he posts.
THIS piece is not only worth reading but is also worth both sticking in my share thingy as well as linking directly to him in a blog post. It seems too many in our country don't seem to care what others think about themselves or us as a nation. I've long felt that, even worse than the Bushco legacy here in our country, the international ramifications of his two miserable terms may be the bigger evil. Go read the post I linked because he says it much more eloquently than I.
P.S. Check out THIS ONE as well.
As of this moment, the most recent addition is a blog post from a local, Larry Van Guilder. I can't say that I pick up the paper he writes for very often, but his blog is in my reader, so I do get to read his stuff when he posts.
THIS piece is not only worth reading but is also worth both sticking in my share thingy as well as linking directly to him in a blog post. It seems too many in our country don't seem to care what others think about themselves or us as a nation. I've long felt that, even worse than the Bushco legacy here in our country, the international ramifications of his two miserable terms may be the bigger evil. Go read the post I linked because he says it much more eloquently than I.
P.S. Check out THIS ONE as well.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
can't fathom the depths
Anyone not aware that we are in the final days of a presidential election and who is not under two years old must be living somewhere far away or be somehow incapacitated both mentally and physically.
It's really that simple, so I'm certainly not breaking news when I point this out. We in the U.S. are in the twilight of a make or break election, a period when we get screwed by the "maverick" and the hockey mom or we see our nation finally elect outside the usual old, white man box. Yes, maverick gets square quotes because he so isn't. He's a bitter and nasty old man who we'll hopefully soon see the last of in the national spotlight.
Of course I'm not voting Obama because he's a black man, but it is historic that of the two major party candidates still left in the fight one of them is indeed black. This has never happened before, and even more insane is that, not only are we likely to finally elect our first black president but this is the first time a black person has actually been a viable candidate.
So close to electing Obama is historic, but what does it say that it's taken us this long to actually have this option? What does it say that no other black person has ever made it this far? What does it say about our nation that the only black people who I can remember running were also so unlikely to win? Who have we had in the past as options? Al Sharpton? Jesse Jackson? Alan Keyes? Okay, try to think of Alan Keyes as viable without pissing your pants from laughing.
Why have we never seen a viable and sensible black candidate before? Where are the Andrew Youngs when we need them?
I don't know what this says about us. I doubt we are as far passed our racist past as we'd like to believe, but I'd also like to believe that Obama represents a huge step forward. I just hope he wins and then lives to show us the change he keeps promising.
This actually began life in my brain as I pondered what sort of person thinks McPalin is worth voting for. I can't fathom the idiocy that I feel it takes to think it's okay to vote for those two. I don't mean to offend, but I can't help but be offended when I realize how close this race is. I really can't accept that intelligent and thoughtful people look at Sarah Palin and are okay with voting for her. McCain? I just don't know. I really just don't know.
It's really that simple, so I'm certainly not breaking news when I point this out. We in the U.S. are in the twilight of a make or break election, a period when we get screwed by the "maverick" and the hockey mom or we see our nation finally elect outside the usual old, white man box. Yes, maverick gets square quotes because he so isn't. He's a bitter and nasty old man who we'll hopefully soon see the last of in the national spotlight.
Of course I'm not voting Obama because he's a black man, but it is historic that of the two major party candidates still left in the fight one of them is indeed black. This has never happened before, and even more insane is that, not only are we likely to finally elect our first black president but this is the first time a black person has actually been a viable candidate.
So close to electing Obama is historic, but what does it say that it's taken us this long to actually have this option? What does it say that no other black person has ever made it this far? What does it say about our nation that the only black people who I can remember running were also so unlikely to win? Who have we had in the past as options? Al Sharpton? Jesse Jackson? Alan Keyes? Okay, try to think of Alan Keyes as viable without pissing your pants from laughing.
Why have we never seen a viable and sensible black candidate before? Where are the Andrew Youngs when we need them?
I don't know what this says about us. I doubt we are as far passed our racist past as we'd like to believe, but I'd also like to believe that Obama represents a huge step forward. I just hope he wins and then lives to show us the change he keeps promising.
This actually began life in my brain as I pondered what sort of person thinks McPalin is worth voting for. I can't fathom the idiocy that I feel it takes to think it's okay to vote for those two. I don't mean to offend, but I can't help but be offended when I realize how close this race is. I really can't accept that intelligent and thoughtful people look at Sarah Palin and are okay with voting for her. McCain? I just don't know. I really just don't know.
maybe about to freak out
There was a time, and I was a little proud of this, when I felt as if I could walk into any restaurant and fill out an application and walk away with a job. Things are suddenly not even close to like that.
I've spent two days filling out applications, and I decided today to take a break. Yesterday Cute Boyfriend hung out with the kids for a bit while I went job hunting. I dropped an application off at the awesome local used book store, and then I heard nothing. Of all the places I've applied this one would be the coolest to work.
Other than the three-ish years I wasn't a very good stay at home dad, I've pretty much done nothing but restaurant work for nearly twenty years. Okay, there was a stint as a security guard, and there were the random months of random jobs through a temp agency, and there was the drywall labor position where I sanded and carried out scrap and smoked pot in the back of the new unit and jumped in the bed of that one guy's truck to scram from the job site when OSHA showed up.
Suddenly, perhaps because of the financial climate, no one is hiring cooks. I haven't gone to every single restaurant I could, so perhaps there are jobs I'm distancing myself from, and really, I should swallow my pride and try, but I really don't want to work at Cracker Barrel or Waffle House or the steak house with the zillion item hot bar or any fast food ever. Also, I don't want to have to take out my ear rings, because I don't want my ears to shrink back to normal size.
The problem really is that I need money. I'm sitting on the last few dollars from my last paycheck, and I'm trying like hell not to even think about that because that makes me think about the place I've most recently been fired from, and the whole story about how/why I got fired just pisses me off.
It's all a bit depressing. I finally gave up for the day yesterday out of a depressed frustration. I should be able to find a job. I have experience and skills, but it's the same every place I've been to.
"Your application looks good. You have a lot of experience, but we're full up right now. If something comes up, and you know how restaurants are, we'll give you a call."
I do know how restaurants are. I wrote a report about this thing at the shitty business college I'm still paying off. Annual average turnover in restaurants is three hundred percent. That means that over the course of a year, the average restaurant hires and loses enough staff to fully staff itself three times over. That's fucked up to say the least, and I'm part of that, or was.
There's a local produce company, the kind that sells and delivers to restaurants, a place I'm familiar with, having used their services at a number of restaurants at which I've worked. They have a marquee on their sign that has read "now hiring drivers" for as long as I can remember. I've contemplated this, but I know the sort of hours required, think three in the morning start time. If Momma and I had our own cars, as opposed to sharing one, this job would be more likely, but as it is, there just isn't a reasonable way to even think about this one, though I do think if I could get used to the hours that I could actually enjoy doing this.
So I find myself still jobless, still searching, still unhappy with my lack of options and unhappy with those things that seem like options. I could start looking outside of the restaurant industry, but I really don't know what else I could do. I just don't feel like I know how to do anything else.
Maybe it's time to suck it up and just take whatever I can find. I'm really not so proud that I wouldn't take a good job if it showed up, but I need something I can be proud I'm doing and that pays the bills and helps me buy a new car and find a new place to live. The Powerball is up to fifty nine million. I have not invested in the luck machine in quite a while, and I know it's a bad sign when Powerball tickets start to seem like a not unwise purchase.
Yeah, that's a bad sign.
I've spent two days filling out applications, and I decided today to take a break. Yesterday Cute Boyfriend hung out with the kids for a bit while I went job hunting. I dropped an application off at the awesome local used book store, and then I heard nothing. Of all the places I've applied this one would be the coolest to work.
Other than the three-ish years I wasn't a very good stay at home dad, I've pretty much done nothing but restaurant work for nearly twenty years. Okay, there was a stint as a security guard, and there were the random months of random jobs through a temp agency, and there was the drywall labor position where I sanded and carried out scrap and smoked pot in the back of the new unit and jumped in the bed of that one guy's truck to scram from the job site when OSHA showed up.
Suddenly, perhaps because of the financial climate, no one is hiring cooks. I haven't gone to every single restaurant I could, so perhaps there are jobs I'm distancing myself from, and really, I should swallow my pride and try, but I really don't want to work at Cracker Barrel or Waffle House or the steak house with the zillion item hot bar or any fast food ever. Also, I don't want to have to take out my ear rings, because I don't want my ears to shrink back to normal size.
The problem really is that I need money. I'm sitting on the last few dollars from my last paycheck, and I'm trying like hell not to even think about that because that makes me think about the place I've most recently been fired from, and the whole story about how/why I got fired just pisses me off.
It's all a bit depressing. I finally gave up for the day yesterday out of a depressed frustration. I should be able to find a job. I have experience and skills, but it's the same every place I've been to.
"Your application looks good. You have a lot of experience, but we're full up right now. If something comes up, and you know how restaurants are, we'll give you a call."
I do know how restaurants are. I wrote a report about this thing at the shitty business college I'm still paying off. Annual average turnover in restaurants is three hundred percent. That means that over the course of a year, the average restaurant hires and loses enough staff to fully staff itself three times over. That's fucked up to say the least, and I'm part of that, or was.
There's a local produce company, the kind that sells and delivers to restaurants, a place I'm familiar with, having used their services at a number of restaurants at which I've worked. They have a marquee on their sign that has read "now hiring drivers" for as long as I can remember. I've contemplated this, but I know the sort of hours required, think three in the morning start time. If Momma and I had our own cars, as opposed to sharing one, this job would be more likely, but as it is, there just isn't a reasonable way to even think about this one, though I do think if I could get used to the hours that I could actually enjoy doing this.
So I find myself still jobless, still searching, still unhappy with my lack of options and unhappy with those things that seem like options. I could start looking outside of the restaurant industry, but I really don't know what else I could do. I just don't feel like I know how to do anything else.
Maybe it's time to suck it up and just take whatever I can find. I'm really not so proud that I wouldn't take a good job if it showed up, but I need something I can be proud I'm doing and that pays the bills and helps me buy a new car and find a new place to live. The Powerball is up to fifty nine million. I have not invested in the luck machine in quite a while, and I know it's a bad sign when Powerball tickets start to seem like a not unwise purchase.
Yeah, that's a bad sign.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
nothing
That's what I have to say here, nothing. For whatever reason I feel compelled to post something.
My current reading is Brisingr, the third book in Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Cycle. I had assumed that the cycle was a trilogy when I first began Eragon, the first book, and I don't really have any idea why I thought that, maybe because trilogies just seem like the way most people go. Regardless, I'm enjoying the book as much as the first two and would recomend it to anyone who enjoys books about young people and dragons tasked with saving the world from evil.
There's a cute boy laying on my sofa watching television, a cute boy that I've been seeing/dating/whatever for slightly more than two months. I understand that two months isn't generally that long an amount of time, but it's got to be worth a couple of years in gay time. I think I'll settle on Cute Boyfriend as his nickname for the blog. It's not my favorite, but I haven't figured out what my favorite is and haven't come up with anything better.
My ears are now stretched to a four gauge, and I could easily get twos in the holes, but I don't have any twos. Cute Boyfriend has a couple of zero gauge plugs that I've already threatened to steal, but I'm not sure if they'd go in yet. I think they might, but I'd spend the next few days in a tiny bit of discomfort while the ears got used to them.
The kids are in bed, Momma is gone to her boyfriend's house for the night and I'm fast running out of things to talk about here. Tomorrow I begin my newest job search. I'm starting at a local bookstore that I hope is hiring and hires me. It would certainly be a break from working in kitchens, a break I'm beginning to think I need. There was that three years of break I took, but somehow that doesn't seem to count.
And with that I do believe I'm done with this post. I'm sorry for the lack of substance here, but that's what you get tonight. Enjoy the fact that I'm forcing myself to post more often and am finally back from the annoying place I subjected you to too often recently.
My current reading is Brisingr, the third book in Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Cycle. I had assumed that the cycle was a trilogy when I first began Eragon, the first book, and I don't really have any idea why I thought that, maybe because trilogies just seem like the way most people go. Regardless, I'm enjoying the book as much as the first two and would recomend it to anyone who enjoys books about young people and dragons tasked with saving the world from evil.
There's a cute boy laying on my sofa watching television, a cute boy that I've been seeing/dating/whatever for slightly more than two months. I understand that two months isn't generally that long an amount of time, but it's got to be worth a couple of years in gay time. I think I'll settle on Cute Boyfriend as his nickname for the blog. It's not my favorite, but I haven't figured out what my favorite is and haven't come up with anything better.
My ears are now stretched to a four gauge, and I could easily get twos in the holes, but I don't have any twos. Cute Boyfriend has a couple of zero gauge plugs that I've already threatened to steal, but I'm not sure if they'd go in yet. I think they might, but I'd spend the next few days in a tiny bit of discomfort while the ears got used to them.
The kids are in bed, Momma is gone to her boyfriend's house for the night and I'm fast running out of things to talk about here. Tomorrow I begin my newest job search. I'm starting at a local bookstore that I hope is hiring and hires me. It would certainly be a break from working in kitchens, a break I'm beginning to think I need. There was that three years of break I took, but somehow that doesn't seem to count.
And with that I do believe I'm done with this post. I'm sorry for the lack of substance here, but that's what you get tonight. Enjoy the fact that I'm forcing myself to post more often and am finally back from the annoying place I subjected you to too often recently.
Friday, October 24, 2008
who's bad?
I'm sitting here, headphones clamped tight, YouTube sharing a song with me. I may have bitched fairly recently about my inability to get YouTube to work on my computer because I was unable to download the newest version of the flash player. I've seen that damned tiny green puzzle piece much too often as of late.
I finally fixed the problem by upgrading the version of Ubuntu that I had and now have not only the newest version of Ubuntu but also a media player that allows me to do the musical thing I just said.
That means, as far as I'm concerned, that it's time to share. I haven't given you a video in much too long, so I will share something with you. It's a song that may or may not be about god, and being the good li'l agnostic I am I don't care.
With absolutely no more discussion by me I give you Black and Gold by Sam Sparro. Okay, there's a tiny bit of discussion because the video is actually not the video because Universal, being the corporate dipshits that they are would rather not share the music as much as they could. They have disabled embedding, so I'm forced to use something that's not the video. Honestly, the song is the thing I'm after, so the video can suck it as can Universal Moneygrubbing Group. I just want to share a song I like by an artist I'm growing to like as I hear more.
Hit the play button and minimize this window while you do something else. That's what I usually do, as videos are so seldom worth watching anyway.
I finally fixed the problem by upgrading the version of Ubuntu that I had and now have not only the newest version of Ubuntu but also a media player that allows me to do the musical thing I just said.
That means, as far as I'm concerned, that it's time to share. I haven't given you a video in much too long, so I will share something with you. It's a song that may or may not be about god, and being the good li'l agnostic I am I don't care.
With absolutely no more discussion by me I give you Black and Gold by Sam Sparro. Okay, there's a tiny bit of discussion because the video is actually not the video because Universal, being the corporate dipshits that they are would rather not share the music as much as they could. They have disabled embedding, so I'm forced to use something that's not the video. Honestly, the song is the thing I'm after, so the video can suck it as can Universal Moneygrubbing Group. I just want to share a song I like by an artist I'm growing to like as I hear more.
Hit the play button and minimize this window while you do something else. That's what I usually do, as videos are so seldom worth watching anyway.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
need something to do?
We all know how much our homeschooled kids and friends love a good essay contest. I think many homeschoolers most love the essay contests in which they are not specifically mentioned as it allows them to feel put upon and gives them an excuse to boycott someone.
Never fear, because the essay contest I've just learned about is open to "home-school" kids even if the contest people don't know that we pretty much decided on homeschool as one word, not two and certainly not hyphenated. I may be wrong about that, but I do know what the consensus seems to be, and that's what I'm going with.
Hat tip to Good As You for noticing this one. High school age kids as well as college freshmen and sophomores may enter. The topic is the preservation of traditional families. Of course, when one sees the phrase "traditional family" one has to understand that what is meant is a very narrow view, a sort of fifties era Beaver Cleaver type family. We all know that those families exist, and often they live right next door to our own just as normal families.
I guess my own family is suddenly not real anymore. Momma and I, though we still share some expenses as well as a house and car, are no longer a valid family. I'd wager that we don't really even equal a family anymore. Perhaps eventually Momma will remarry and will then be okay again, but until I stop being gay, I'm probably not even a father anymore.
Anyway, having rambled and made less than no sense, HERE is a link to the contest page. The contest hosts are some group known as the Traditional Family Coalition. As mentioned, people who use words like "traditional" usually don't get that their tradition is a dream that never really existed, but they don't care. Their scriptural guide seems to tell them to lie when it furthers their agenda, so I'm sure I'm the one that's wrong.
Never fear, because the essay contest I've just learned about is open to "home-school" kids even if the contest people don't know that we pretty much decided on homeschool as one word, not two and certainly not hyphenated. I may be wrong about that, but I do know what the consensus seems to be, and that's what I'm going with.
Hat tip to Good As You for noticing this one. High school age kids as well as college freshmen and sophomores may enter. The topic is the preservation of traditional families. Of course, when one sees the phrase "traditional family" one has to understand that what is meant is a very narrow view, a sort of fifties era Beaver Cleaver type family. We all know that those families exist, and often they live right next door to our own just as normal families.
I guess my own family is suddenly not real anymore. Momma and I, though we still share some expenses as well as a house and car, are no longer a valid family. I'd wager that we don't really even equal a family anymore. Perhaps eventually Momma will remarry and will then be okay again, but until I stop being gay, I'm probably not even a father anymore.
Anyway, having rambled and made less than no sense, HERE is a link to the contest page. The contest hosts are some group known as the Traditional Family Coalition. As mentioned, people who use words like "traditional" usually don't get that their tradition is a dream that never really existed, but they don't care. Their scriptural guide seems to tell them to lie when it furthers their agenda, so I'm sure I'm the one that's wrong.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
thanks for that
The place I worked till recently is in the Old City, one of the oldest parts of our town, the place that was once known as the bowery, the place that was built on a swamp, the place that people from the west side of town think is full of whores and pickpockets and muggers and . . .
You get the picture.
I may be forgetting somewhere, but counting in my head I've come up with at least nine different restaurant/bars, though only one of them is my usual, my default, my watering hole. It's been a place that has been friendly to me over the years.
Rewind your calender to a mere few days ago when I was there, early in the evening, the only (and I do mean only) customer sitting at the bar. The place does decent business later at night, but I was there early. The only people besides me at the bar were the owner and the bartender.
I worked at this place for a couple of weeks before taking a better paying/more hours job at the place I worked till recently, and all of this really is part of the point. I really am going somewhere with this.
I quit this bar on decent terms, giving them a full two weeks notice, and the owner seemed pleased with my work. He and I, while not bosom buddies, have remained on fairly friendly terms. I stop when I see him, he stops, we chat for a moment, hail and farewell and all that shit.
So back to sitting solo at the bar, and I'm talking to the owner. He inquires about the job and how I like the place I left him for, and without giving it too much thought I give him my honest opinion.
-the place isn't being run well
-the owners don't really know what they are doing
-the son of one of the owners who does the day to day running of the business is a dumbass and doesn't quite pay attention to what he needs to be doing
-they neglect the many years of experience the kitchen staff has and choose to run the place poorly
-they won't be open a year from now
-the prices are much too high for the location
-they've priced themselves out of business
-they are resorting to some questionable specials in order to try to make money
That last one I will use as an example of what is so wrong with the place. Picture if you will a restaurant trying to be a slightly upscale version of a British pub. Now imagine if you will that they institute a "ladies night" to attempt to bring in business. Yeah, that kind of thing.
Apparently the ex-boss ran into my more new ex-boss at a city council meeting and, in front of any number of local bigwigs and wannabes, told him all that I said. New ex-boss decides to let me go, and he does it in a way in which one can certainly be proud. He took me off the schedule and then said absolutely nothing to me about it.
So how did I found out I'd been fired? After dropping Momma off at work this morning, as I was about to pull away from the place, I realized her phone had slipped out of her pocket. I turned the car off, walked inside to find her and decided to look at the schedule. I was not on it. I don't mean my name and schedule were crossed off, as usually happens when someone gets fired from a restaurant. They completely remade the schedule so that my name didn't even exist.
Several hours later an ex-coworker called to tell me that, indeed, I had been let go. It was then that I heard the story I just related. I was fired because one ex-boss ran his mouth and made a joke out of what I'd told him, me assuming some amount of something not unlike confidentiality. My new ex-boss was quite embarassed, or so I was told. In a rousing feat of standing up and being a man he had someone else do his dirty work and actually call me and speak to me personally.
The sad part, beyond that my newest ex-boss is what we often call a bitch, a friend with no reason to have to was the person to relay the news, a friend with enough issues of his own regarding this place, who has already been screwed over by my new ex-boss. Yeah, he had to start his day like that.
That's my story for the day. It isn't a pretty story, but, all things considered, what's one more weight piled onto me? I'm sure I can take more. I'm not broke enough.
And to the sorry ass that fired me, sorry Mr. N that your pride got hurt, but seriously, you have no more business running a restaurant than I have performing surgery.
You get the picture.
I may be forgetting somewhere, but counting in my head I've come up with at least nine different restaurant/bars, though only one of them is my usual, my default, my watering hole. It's been a place that has been friendly to me over the years.
Rewind your calender to a mere few days ago when I was there, early in the evening, the only (and I do mean only) customer sitting at the bar. The place does decent business later at night, but I was there early. The only people besides me at the bar were the owner and the bartender.
I worked at this place for a couple of weeks before taking a better paying/more hours job at the place I worked till recently, and all of this really is part of the point. I really am going somewhere with this.
I quit this bar on decent terms, giving them a full two weeks notice, and the owner seemed pleased with my work. He and I, while not bosom buddies, have remained on fairly friendly terms. I stop when I see him, he stops, we chat for a moment, hail and farewell and all that shit.
So back to sitting solo at the bar, and I'm talking to the owner. He inquires about the job and how I like the place I left him for, and without giving it too much thought I give him my honest opinion.
-the place isn't being run well
-the owners don't really know what they are doing
-the son of one of the owners who does the day to day running of the business is a dumbass and doesn't quite pay attention to what he needs to be doing
-they neglect the many years of experience the kitchen staff has and choose to run the place poorly
-they won't be open a year from now
-the prices are much too high for the location
-they've priced themselves out of business
-they are resorting to some questionable specials in order to try to make money
That last one I will use as an example of what is so wrong with the place. Picture if you will a restaurant trying to be a slightly upscale version of a British pub. Now imagine if you will that they institute a "ladies night" to attempt to bring in business. Yeah, that kind of thing.
Apparently the ex-boss ran into my more new ex-boss at a city council meeting and, in front of any number of local bigwigs and wannabes, told him all that I said. New ex-boss decides to let me go, and he does it in a way in which one can certainly be proud. He took me off the schedule and then said absolutely nothing to me about it.
So how did I found out I'd been fired? After dropping Momma off at work this morning, as I was about to pull away from the place, I realized her phone had slipped out of her pocket. I turned the car off, walked inside to find her and decided to look at the schedule. I was not on it. I don't mean my name and schedule were crossed off, as usually happens when someone gets fired from a restaurant. They completely remade the schedule so that my name didn't even exist.
Several hours later an ex-coworker called to tell me that, indeed, I had been let go. It was then that I heard the story I just related. I was fired because one ex-boss ran his mouth and made a joke out of what I'd told him, me assuming some amount of something not unlike confidentiality. My new ex-boss was quite embarassed, or so I was told. In a rousing feat of standing up and being a man he had someone else do his dirty work and actually call me and speak to me personally.
The sad part, beyond that my newest ex-boss is what we often call a bitch, a friend with no reason to have to was the person to relay the news, a friend with enough issues of his own regarding this place, who has already been screwed over by my new ex-boss. Yeah, he had to start his day like that.
That's my story for the day. It isn't a pretty story, but, all things considered, what's one more weight piled onto me? I'm sure I can take more. I'm not broke enough.
And to the sorry ass that fired me, sorry Mr. N that your pride got hurt, but seriously, you have no more business running a restaurant than I have performing surgery.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
quandary
This is something you may not know, but I sort of kind of hate my job. It should be a great place to work, and if it was the sort of place the owners intended it to be I would be proud and happy to work there.
The main problem in my humble opinion is that the owners are the sort of people who just shouldn't own a restaurant. The entirety of their experience in this industry is contained entirely in the few short months that they have been restaurateurs. Another way of looking at it is that they don't have a damn clue how to do this right, and they won't likely be open much longer.
As a quick aside, if you are familiar with Anthony Bourdain's books you may remember something he wrote about his own experiences with restaurant owners and his list of people who shouldn't own restaurants. My bosses should be on that list, and I'm sure they are at least somewhat represented.
Momma just texted me that I'm no longer scheduled to work tonight due to labor cost. This shouldn't be an issue because we should be busy enough in general, but we are not, so it is. My options now are to accept not working and the smaller check or to call a coworker and try to pick up a shift. Neither of those are really what I want. I don't want to have to work, but I'm already going to be missing one day on my check because I was sent home for being late.
I can see a bit of a pattern here, and I know from experience that I am within easy view of the end of my employment at this particular establishment. And this brings up another thought.
I feel and have felt as if cooking is pretty much all I know how to do. There have been other jobs in my short years working, but they were many years ago and not the sort of experience I could carry over into a new job. The depressing note here is that I feel more and more as if, though this is all I know how to do, I'm just not really that good at it. I'm not sure where this feeling comes from because I used to be different. I took great pride in my abilities, identified to a large extent as a cook. Add to all this the fact that I have so little to show for anything at my age, and it all starts to cloud over with a tinge of depression.
My life is changing so much and so randomly that sometimes I just don't know what to do. I don't know where to turn. I don't have a lot of confidence in myself right now. Don't get me started on my need for a car and a new place to live.
The main problem in my humble opinion is that the owners are the sort of people who just shouldn't own a restaurant. The entirety of their experience in this industry is contained entirely in the few short months that they have been restaurateurs. Another way of looking at it is that they don't have a damn clue how to do this right, and they won't likely be open much longer.
As a quick aside, if you are familiar with Anthony Bourdain's books you may remember something he wrote about his own experiences with restaurant owners and his list of people who shouldn't own restaurants. My bosses should be on that list, and I'm sure they are at least somewhat represented.
Momma just texted me that I'm no longer scheduled to work tonight due to labor cost. This shouldn't be an issue because we should be busy enough in general, but we are not, so it is. My options now are to accept not working and the smaller check or to call a coworker and try to pick up a shift. Neither of those are really what I want. I don't want to have to work, but I'm already going to be missing one day on my check because I was sent home for being late.
I can see a bit of a pattern here, and I know from experience that I am within easy view of the end of my employment at this particular establishment. And this brings up another thought.
I feel and have felt as if cooking is pretty much all I know how to do. There have been other jobs in my short years working, but they were many years ago and not the sort of experience I could carry over into a new job. The depressing note here is that I feel more and more as if, though this is all I know how to do, I'm just not really that good at it. I'm not sure where this feeling comes from because I used to be different. I took great pride in my abilities, identified to a large extent as a cook. Add to all this the fact that I have so little to show for anything at my age, and it all starts to cloud over with a tinge of depression.
My life is changing so much and so randomly that sometimes I just don't know what to do. I don't know where to turn. I don't have a lot of confidence in myself right now. Don't get me started on my need for a car and a new place to live.
follow up
As I mentioned in my last post I have now come out to my family. There is one brother I have yet to hear from, but he is the brother whose first attempt bounced back to me. I found another email address for him, so hopefully he gets the news. I hate that any of them have to be the last to hear, but I suppose someone has to be.
I know that most of my brothers have gotten their email as all but the one have responded. I can't say I'm surprised by any of the reactions I got, and they were all at least slightly not unsupportive in a sense. They each did at least let me know that they still love me and that I can count on them should I need.
Given the nature of all of this, my homosexuality and their fairly right leaning christian beliefs, the responses were, as I've said, not really surprising. I've got a sister in law whose heart is breaking for us. I have two brothers who disagree with my "lifestyle" though I don't know that either of them used those words. One of the brothers has alerted me to the fact that I'll never be satisfied with fleshly pleasures and assured me that I know the truth or what I need to do or something along those lines. I'm sure what he means has everything to do with his religion and belief system.
While it's certainly a load off my shoulders to no longer have this secret, it isn't really making my life any easier in general. It isn't getting me a better job or a car or a place to live. It isn't going to make my hands any less stiff as the weather turns colder. It isn't going to put any food in my children's bellies. Maybe though the sun is a tiny bit brighter, the late blooming fall flowers a little more showy. Maybe it just seems that way because I've taken one more tiny progressive step toward finally being me. Now if I could just figure the rest of the me part out I'll be in good shape.
I know that most of my brothers have gotten their email as all but the one have responded. I can't say I'm surprised by any of the reactions I got, and they were all at least slightly not unsupportive in a sense. They each did at least let me know that they still love me and that I can count on them should I need.
Given the nature of all of this, my homosexuality and their fairly right leaning christian beliefs, the responses were, as I've said, not really surprising. I've got a sister in law whose heart is breaking for us. I have two brothers who disagree with my "lifestyle" though I don't know that either of them used those words. One of the brothers has alerted me to the fact that I'll never be satisfied with fleshly pleasures and assured me that I know the truth or what I need to do or something along those lines. I'm sure what he means has everything to do with his religion and belief system.
While it's certainly a load off my shoulders to no longer have this secret, it isn't really making my life any easier in general. It isn't getting me a better job or a car or a place to live. It isn't going to make my hands any less stiff as the weather turns colder. It isn't going to put any food in my children's bellies. Maybe though the sun is a tiny bit brighter, the late blooming fall flowers a little more showy. Maybe it just seems that way because I've taken one more tiny progressive step toward finally being me. Now if I could just figure the rest of the me part out I'll be in good shape.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
it's done
Part of me feels a little bad that I used email, but an even bigger part doesn't really quite care. Yes, I emailed my parents and then my brothers to come out to them.
Yes, I know. It does seem a little impersonal for this sort of thing. To them, I can only assume, this is sort of a big deal. This may be quite a blow. I've actually gotten some replies, and while none of them have yet been terribly supportive, they have at least extended their love and help.
And there's a big reason that I chose email. I have to admit that I don't know what any of them are really going to think, but having grown up in the religion most of them still believe I think I have some small reason to believe I can assume some small amount of which direction most of them might go with this.
My memory isn't quite good enough to remember exactly when it was that I first started to think there was some chance I might be gay. It wasn't too long after that before I really began to accept it. And then for whatever reasons I still can't quite figure out I began to pretend I wasn't gay and began the several years of misery that living in the closet is.
There's yet another reason I chose email, that I feel I've spent enough time, somewhere in the vicinity of twenty years, dealing with this. Even five minutes of negativity or even just simple disagreement is more than I'm willing to deal with.
I don't want to be rude to my family, regardless of their beliefs, regardless of how they now choose to view me. At the same time I'm not going to change because of anything they say. I'm not going to suddenly not be gay. I'm not going to let anyone make me feel bad about this, becaue I've already done that. I've already felt bad enough trying not to be gay, and now that I'm finally accepting it, I don't care if others do or don't, but I'm not going to let anyone add to the misery I've already inflicted on myself.
So that is what I did this weekend. It's done and out of the way. Hopefully no more emails bounce so that I don't have to resend the damn thing. I did save it as a draft just in case and because I didn't want to have to write yet another version. I've already written two different versions, one to send the parents and the second for the brothers. Just getting those two versions written was a giant pain in the ass of over editing as I'm a bit anal and am never happy with the first or even the second or third version of anything I do.
How was your weekend?
Yes, I know. It does seem a little impersonal for this sort of thing. To them, I can only assume, this is sort of a big deal. This may be quite a blow. I've actually gotten some replies, and while none of them have yet been terribly supportive, they have at least extended their love and help.
And there's a big reason that I chose email. I have to admit that I don't know what any of them are really going to think, but having grown up in the religion most of them still believe I think I have some small reason to believe I can assume some small amount of which direction most of them might go with this.
My memory isn't quite good enough to remember exactly when it was that I first started to think there was some chance I might be gay. It wasn't too long after that before I really began to accept it. And then for whatever reasons I still can't quite figure out I began to pretend I wasn't gay and began the several years of misery that living in the closet is.
There's yet another reason I chose email, that I feel I've spent enough time, somewhere in the vicinity of twenty years, dealing with this. Even five minutes of negativity or even just simple disagreement is more than I'm willing to deal with.
I don't want to be rude to my family, regardless of their beliefs, regardless of how they now choose to view me. At the same time I'm not going to change because of anything they say. I'm not going to suddenly not be gay. I'm not going to let anyone make me feel bad about this, becaue I've already done that. I've already felt bad enough trying not to be gay, and now that I'm finally accepting it, I don't care if others do or don't, but I'm not going to let anyone add to the misery I've already inflicted on myself.
So that is what I did this weekend. It's done and out of the way. Hopefully no more emails bounce so that I don't have to resend the damn thing. I did save it as a draft just in case and because I didn't want to have to write yet another version. I've already written two different versions, one to send the parents and the second for the brothers. Just getting those two versions written was a giant pain in the ass of over editing as I'm a bit anal and am never happy with the first or even the second or third version of anything I do.
How was your weekend?
Sunday, October 12, 2008
wow, these updates sure are BS
I thought I was finally starting to get back to blogging, back to bothering people with things, and I really felt like it was going to happen. If anything over the past week, this is what probably drove me the most crazy.
Our computer has been slowly dying, likely caused by something malicious that got inside, or so we think. Windows was working really poorly, and online was pure hell as we found ourselves with speeds rivalling the quickest dial up connections.
We have a friend who claims to know stuff about computers and works doing stuff with them, and he volunteered to give it a look to see if he could help. The plan was for him to take the hard drive and save all the folders we actually wanted to his clean hard drive. That apparently was not possible, so he gave the hard drive back. He was nice enough to alert us to the likelihood that our computer is fucked.
It is now back in the computer, and I'm using an Ubuntu disk I burned and even wrote about some time back. It's working just fine, but I can only run the operating system from the disk.
And that's my story. I checked my email once this past week. I haven't looked at my reader at all. I checked Myspace the day I checked my email. It's kind of nice having the computer back.
All of that to say that, on some level, I really am back, even if I disappear entirely, unless I'm not. That would be something different altogether.
Our computer has been slowly dying, likely caused by something malicious that got inside, or so we think. Windows was working really poorly, and online was pure hell as we found ourselves with speeds rivalling the quickest dial up connections.
We have a friend who claims to know stuff about computers and works doing stuff with them, and he volunteered to give it a look to see if he could help. The plan was for him to take the hard drive and save all the folders we actually wanted to his clean hard drive. That apparently was not possible, so he gave the hard drive back. He was nice enough to alert us to the likelihood that our computer is fucked.
It is now back in the computer, and I'm using an Ubuntu disk I burned and even wrote about some time back. It's working just fine, but I can only run the operating system from the disk.
And that's my story. I checked my email once this past week. I haven't looked at my reader at all. I checked Myspace the day I checked my email. It's kind of nice having the computer back.
All of that to say that, on some level, I really am back, even if I disappear entirely, unless I'm not. That would be something different altogether.
Friday, October 03, 2008
cosillas de borega
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.
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.
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.
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