8 years ago
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Like With Glue
Bonding with someone is strange in general. With all the billions of people, that two should happen to meet and connect and want to stay connected- the odds must be staggering.
And so they bond like with glue, like skin does to skin with glue. Their actions, likes/dislikes, thoughts, feelings become more and more similar, more connected. Even though there are and should remain some differences. Like with glue, two dislike but somewhat similar things are stuck together.
But when you become bonded to someone and they begin to pull away- you get torn...or warped...or twisted...bent out of shape.... The skin, your very person, that's bonded to the other get ripped off you- like with glue.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Still Evolving
Life fascinates me.
Just when you reach the point where you believe it's impossible to fall lower, you do.
And when you reach the point that you give up and accept your meager existence, you find more than you could have ever hoped for.
Monday, August 1, 2011
State of Sales
I'm a yard-sale junkie. Yard sales, garages sales, rummage sales, you name it.
Estate sales are the most telling. Everything someone once owned at "name your price" deals. I enjoy them most because you can see how the former owners lived; it's almost intimate. You see their photos, taste in clothes, music, art, where they ate and slept, all the clues about their worldly life.
Plus there's usually a treasure waiting to be found. Something that makes me laugh or smile, or a child's toy I too once owned, or a book I've read- something that makes me feel a connection to these people. Sometimes a real find like an old book. My own tastes are so random that finding something is easy.
But there's something nasty about estate sales. That the possessions that defined someone mean so little and go for pennies once the people have gone. That all that they leave behind are knick-knacks and junk that people will haggle over. They sadden me because one day, this will happen to my things, in my home.
In a way, I look forward to that day and it makes me wish I believed in an afterlife where I could watch as a spirit or ghost. Watch people look an awe at my bizarre collection of curios, like a civil war cannonball next to a silver spoon (sooo waiting for someone to ask about that so I can say "there is no spoon"), next to a coffin nail with my age engraved on it. See people laugh a random object, like my photo album of B/W snapshots of Yellowstone Park from the 1950s. View people's eyes widen at my stairwell, mixed with mementos of my favorite films, music, and the like and weapons ranging from swords to axes to more exotic hand-to-hand objects de mortis. I wonder how many people will try to figure out who I was or what kind of person I was or whether they met me at some point.
Estate sales are why I stopped caring about my future. Knowing that everything I do leave behind will eventually be divided up and sold to the highest bidder? Ha, why worry about it?
I live for my amusement, my enjoyment, me. And right now, I'm laughing my ass off ;-P
Estate sales are the most telling. Everything someone once owned at "name your price" deals. I enjoy them most because you can see how the former owners lived; it's almost intimate. You see their photos, taste in clothes, music, art, where they ate and slept, all the clues about their worldly life.
Plus there's usually a treasure waiting to be found. Something that makes me laugh or smile, or a child's toy I too once owned, or a book I've read- something that makes me feel a connection to these people. Sometimes a real find like an old book. My own tastes are so random that finding something is easy.
But there's something nasty about estate sales. That the possessions that defined someone mean so little and go for pennies once the people have gone. That all that they leave behind are knick-knacks and junk that people will haggle over. They sadden me because one day, this will happen to my things, in my home.
In a way, I look forward to that day and it makes me wish I believed in an afterlife where I could watch as a spirit or ghost. Watch people look an awe at my bizarre collection of curios, like a civil war cannonball next to a silver spoon (sooo waiting for someone to ask about that so I can say "there is no spoon"), next to a coffin nail with my age engraved on it. See people laugh a random object, like my photo album of B/W snapshots of Yellowstone Park from the 1950s. View people's eyes widen at my stairwell, mixed with mementos of my favorite films, music, and the like and weapons ranging from swords to axes to more exotic hand-to-hand objects de mortis. I wonder how many people will try to figure out who I was or what kind of person I was or whether they met me at some point.
Estate sales are why I stopped caring about my future. Knowing that everything I do leave behind will eventually be divided up and sold to the highest bidder? Ha, why worry about it?
I live for my amusement, my enjoyment, me. And right now, I'm laughing my ass off ;-P
Sunday, July 24, 2011
My Drunken State of Affairs
As I sit in my porch swing, the scent of the lilacs in bloom in my yard is all around. It's funny how the smell of these flowers reminds me of soap.
It's warm out. Only mid-80s but with 85% humidity. The last week had seen a record-high (109 with the heat index). But I bought a new A/C unit which is awe-some. So much so I might have to take out my thermal socks soon.
Yesterday I did as little as possible, mostly couch-potatoing (although I did an 8-mile bike ride in the morning which, on a bike 1 year older than myself, is a lot of work).
Today I did gardening and repainted half of my garage roof. I bought a great old Corona metal cooler this morning at a flea market, filled it with beer, and emptied it of beer. I'm mostly sober now. Mostly.
Life is pretty good (the house is great, Fred is well, the fridge is fully stocked with beer and meat, I have money in the bank (!!!??!!), and my new smartphone kicks ASS).
And that... bothers me. Life hasn't been this good for this century. I keep expecting the trapdoor to open then I will plummet into the shark-filled tank. When you've gotten used to pain and challenges at every step, what do you do when things go your way?
Not that everything's perfect. Despite dating and what can only be described as "booty calls", there's no long-term relationship anywhere in my future. Apart from the companionship I miss, I find I'm OK with that. Truly. I've become too territorial.
I'm back to taking pills daily to try to cope with my insane blood pressure. They do their job, but the side-effects (weight gain and lethargy) suck monkey balls.
But that's it. Nothing else circling over me like vultures.
Then there're those still in CA.
Got a text Friday from a friend there, stating her company laid off herself and 3 others. That's horrible for her. Seriously. I've been there far too many times.
And that makes only one person left that I know in CA who has not been jobless since I've known them.
One person.
One.
I keep wanting to tell them to come here. "Hey", I say, "move here; I have beer".
Everyone seems so weighed down in CA. All those chains that only I can see because they're no longer manacled to me.
Earlier I was adding some photos to an album and came across a picture of someone I hadn't thought of in a while (which is good). I had forgotten what she looked like (and, it turned out, how to spell her name). Out of drunken boredom/curiosity (same thing?), I read some of her blog.
wow.
Things had really changed with her over the years, and not in an upward momentum kind of way. Beyond her Dog and copious alcohol binges (which could go whether way but I'll give the benefit of the doubt (J/K- hers are on the Dark Side of the Drink)), I could locate in her tales nothing she thought of as positive. Sure I only went through 2 pages of blog entries but still!
She seemed like most everyone else in CA- crushed by the weight of trying to make a life in a state that actively works against people trying to make a life there.
But they won't move. California has a certain status. California has culture. It's a clique of sorts. I miss that part of it.
And I miss my friends in CA. That's part of why I want them to move.
In my little drunken way, I want to help them. I stupidly want to fix their problems. I hereby offer them what I can- kind words, laughter, advice, really filthy porn sites, the knowledge of how to kill rats and chickens, beer money, anything I can as I can't offer them a shoulder when they need one.
I now believe life isn't always so hard. Not always. Not forever, not forever ever. Even if they don't.
I wish things were better for them. I believe life will improve.
Even IF they stay in CA
It's warm out. Only mid-80s but with 85% humidity. The last week had seen a record-high (109 with the heat index). But I bought a new A/C unit which is awe-some. So much so I might have to take out my thermal socks soon.
Yesterday I did as little as possible, mostly couch-potatoing (although I did an 8-mile bike ride in the morning which, on a bike 1 year older than myself, is a lot of work).
Today I did gardening and repainted half of my garage roof. I bought a great old Corona metal cooler this morning at a flea market, filled it with beer, and emptied it of beer. I'm mostly sober now. Mostly.
Life is pretty good (the house is great, Fred is well, the fridge is fully stocked with beer and meat, I have money in the bank (!!!??!!), and my new smartphone kicks ASS).
And that... bothers me. Life hasn't been this good for this century. I keep expecting the trapdoor to open then I will plummet into the shark-filled tank. When you've gotten used to pain and challenges at every step, what do you do when things go your way?
Not that everything's perfect. Despite dating and what can only be described as "booty calls", there's no long-term relationship anywhere in my future. Apart from the companionship I miss, I find I'm OK with that. Truly. I've become too territorial.
I'm back to taking pills daily to try to cope with my insane blood pressure. They do their job, but the side-effects (weight gain and lethargy) suck monkey balls.
But that's it. Nothing else circling over me like vultures.
Then there're those still in CA.
Got a text Friday from a friend there, stating her company laid off herself and 3 others. That's horrible for her. Seriously. I've been there far too many times.
And that makes only one person left that I know in CA who has not been jobless since I've known them.
One person.
One.
I keep wanting to tell them to come here. "Hey", I say, "move here; I have beer".
Everyone seems so weighed down in CA. All those chains that only I can see because they're no longer manacled to me.
Earlier I was adding some photos to an album and came across a picture of someone I hadn't thought of in a while (which is good). I had forgotten what she looked like (and, it turned out, how to spell her name). Out of drunken boredom/curiosity (same thing?), I read some of her blog.
wow.
Things had really changed with her over the years, and not in an upward momentum kind of way. Beyond her Dog and copious alcohol binges (which could go whether way but I'll give the benefit of the doubt (J/K- hers are on the Dark Side of the Drink)), I could locate in her tales nothing she thought of as positive. Sure I only went through 2 pages of blog entries but still!
She seemed like most everyone else in CA- crushed by the weight of trying to make a life in a state that actively works against people trying to make a life there.
But they won't move. California has a certain status. California has culture. It's a clique of sorts. I miss that part of it.
And I miss my friends in CA. That's part of why I want them to move.
In my little drunken way, I want to help them. I stupidly want to fix their problems. I hereby offer them what I can- kind words, laughter, advice, really filthy porn sites, the knowledge of how to kill rats and chickens, beer money, anything I can as I can't offer them a shoulder when they need one.
I now believe life isn't always so hard. Not always. Not forever, not forever ever. Even if they don't.
I wish things were better for them. I believe life will improve.
Even IF they stay in CA
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Life Update: 7/6/11
This morning I finished the house. Barring normal repairs and upkeep, it's done.
OK, the garage still needs an overhaul but I'll hire a contractor for that.
Work's work. Good days, bad days, and a good paycheck.
The next 4 weeks are going to be feh though; I'm covering for someone for half of it.
Fred's still Fred. I worry she gets lonely when no one's here. I may get her a friend soon.
My parents, sister, and brother-in-law are in town. Been hanging out with them as much as possible. Only 1 fight so far with Mom, but that's really good for us.
Last Friday night, a deer hit their rental car and trashed the front end. We were OK and the deer only lost a tuft of hair and crapped down the side of the car. Hopefully it lived without internal injuries. A woman stopped to see if we were OK (don't forget- I live in Wisconsin; people are known to be considerate here). She's 47, looks younger than I am (and I am in no way exaggerating), a teacher's aide and freelance photographer, and is a grandmother. She gave me her cell#, which I used to invite her and her 2 youngest (she has 3 offspring, the eldest being a Marine) to our July 4th pig roast. They came, we ate, we talked, we laughed, we blew up stuff, etc. I like her kids: a 10yoa boy who's a typical lad of his age and 16yoa girl who's a typical brooding, "everything's lame and different from when you lived with the dinosaurs, Mom" lass of her age. The woman was visibly weirded out when she found out our age difference (not that I mind), so that was the end of that.
If nothing else, I brought the most attractive woman to the party :)
Been biking everywhere I can. People laugh at my '72 Hawthorne while they ride their insanely priced 15-speed bikes with GPS and shock absorbers. I laugh at them 'cause I'm getting 4 times the exercise, and riding a cooler looking bike.
That's it, peoples. Life's still going on.
OK, the garage still needs an overhaul but I'll hire a contractor for that.
Work's work. Good days, bad days, and a good paycheck.
The next 4 weeks are going to be feh though; I'm covering for someone for half of it.
Fred's still Fred. I worry she gets lonely when no one's here. I may get her a friend soon.
My parents, sister, and brother-in-law are in town. Been hanging out with them as much as possible. Only 1 fight so far with Mom, but that's really good for us.
Last Friday night, a deer hit their rental car and trashed the front end. We were OK and the deer only lost a tuft of hair and crapped down the side of the car. Hopefully it lived without internal injuries. A woman stopped to see if we were OK (don't forget- I live in Wisconsin; people are known to be considerate here). She's 47, looks younger than I am (and I am in no way exaggerating), a teacher's aide and freelance photographer, and is a grandmother. She gave me her cell#, which I used to invite her and her 2 youngest (she has 3 offspring, the eldest being a Marine) to our July 4th pig roast. They came, we ate, we talked, we laughed, we blew up stuff, etc. I like her kids: a 10yoa boy who's a typical lad of his age and 16yoa girl who's a typical brooding, "everything's lame and different from when you lived with the dinosaurs, Mom" lass of her age. The woman was visibly weirded out when she found out our age difference (not that I mind), so that was the end of that.
If nothing else, I brought the most attractive woman to the party :)
Been biking everywhere I can. People laugh at my '72 Hawthorne while they ride their insanely priced 15-speed bikes with GPS and shock absorbers. I laugh at them 'cause I'm getting 4 times the exercise, and riding a cooler looking bike.
That's it, peoples. Life's still going on.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
3 Weekends
The last 3 weekends have resulted in several life lessons for me.
1st weekend:
A girl (I can call her that as she was only 18 (which I found out later)) picked me up at the beginning of the year. She was a texter- over 2500 in 1 month. In person, all she did was complain. Turned out she also disliked animals and eating out- obviously it would never work. The clincher was that she brought up babies twice (remember that I knew her less than a month). So the end all of it was that I called it off. She did not take it well. I started out being polite but over the days I got blunt ("would you PLEASE fuck off and leave me alone?"). Finally she asked to see me to "clear the air" (this was on a Saturday). I accepted in hopes it would end. Rather than have her explode in public, she came over. When she got here, she asked for something to drink to which I complied as I consider myself a good host and I thought being nice might make things easier. She drink her drank, tossed one of Fred's toys into another room so Fred ran after it, thanked me for the drink, handed back the glass, full-on kicked me in the crotch, and walked out.
I spent the next 2 days with ice packs on my groin.
I have not heard from her again (hooray!).
2nd weekend:
My house was being a pain.
My thermostat is battery operated and when the batteries die, the furnace shuts off. Which happened on a night with -6 temperatures. I woke up at 3am on Saturday morning to go to the bathroom and noticed I could see my breath. I quickly deduced the problem, along with the additional one that I didn't have any AAs. So I had to get dressed and go to Walgreens (the only place open). When I got home, I put in the new batteries and went back to bed. About 2 hours later, Fred jumped into bed and crawled under the sheets, shivering. It was now even colder inside the house. As no one I know would normally read their 50-page furnace instruction manual at 3am, I was previously unaware that I had to manually reset the furnace after it shuts down.
Later in the day, I took a shower... of sorts. I had recently installed a new showerhead with a long flex so I can wash Fred. It had fallen off the holder the day before and, unknown to me, cracked. So when I turned to the water, the showerhead blew up. Pieces of plastic flew and the headless hose flipped around spraying water everywhere.
I had jut finished replacing it (around 5pm) when I received 3 calls within minutes of each other from 3 different groups inviting me out for drinks. I accepted all 3 and began an 8-hour pub crawl during which all my drinks were free. The last group were forcing drinks on me ("you'll drink it, or wear it!") after I cut myself off. Thankfully the last place was 3 blocks away so I was able stagger my ass home. I spent that Sunday recouping.
3rd weekend:
Out again on Friday and didn't get to bed until 3am Saturday. Went out again Saturday night, brought someone home, and did not get to sleep until noon today. I spent the remaining day sleeping.
These 3 weekends have taught me:
1) My choices in women are not improving. I seem to deliberately avoid anything where I can have a stable relationship. Perhaps I'll write more tomorrow and explain my other WTF situation I currently have with a lady (neither one from this tale).
2) I'm not getting younger. While I can still drink FAR too heavily, I'm feeling the after-effects. As I've never had hangovers before, I'm not certain if these are them. I think the pub crawl's was actually alcohol poisoning. Either way, I need to watch this shit.
3) I'm in terrible shape. Although my weight's fine and I can still wear the same sizes I did 10 years ago, my bodily damage and the weather have caused me to be more lazy than normal. I've cut my exercise routine down from an hour 4 times a week to 30 minutes 3 times. And the jogging I started went right out when the temperature dipped below freezing and stayed there. This morning proved I need some cardio asap.
4) Speaking of cardio, the occasional ciggie I've had isn't helping either. I need to quit again.
5) Sundays are a good day to do nothing.
1st weekend:
A girl (I can call her that as she was only 18 (which I found out later)) picked me up at the beginning of the year. She was a texter- over 2500 in 1 month. In person, all she did was complain. Turned out she also disliked animals and eating out- obviously it would never work. The clincher was that she brought up babies twice (remember that I knew her less than a month). So the end all of it was that I called it off. She did not take it well. I started out being polite but over the days I got blunt ("would you PLEASE fuck off and leave me alone?"). Finally she asked to see me to "clear the air" (this was on a Saturday). I accepted in hopes it would end. Rather than have her explode in public, she came over. When she got here, she asked for something to drink to which I complied as I consider myself a good host and I thought being nice might make things easier. She drink her drank, tossed one of Fred's toys into another room so Fred ran after it, thanked me for the drink, handed back the glass, full-on kicked me in the crotch, and walked out.
I spent the next 2 days with ice packs on my groin.
I have not heard from her again (hooray!).
2nd weekend:
My house was being a pain.
My thermostat is battery operated and when the batteries die, the furnace shuts off. Which happened on a night with -6 temperatures. I woke up at 3am on Saturday morning to go to the bathroom and noticed I could see my breath. I quickly deduced the problem, along with the additional one that I didn't have any AAs. So I had to get dressed and go to Walgreens (the only place open). When I got home, I put in the new batteries and went back to bed. About 2 hours later, Fred jumped into bed and crawled under the sheets, shivering. It was now even colder inside the house. As no one I know would normally read their 50-page furnace instruction manual at 3am, I was previously unaware that I had to manually reset the furnace after it shuts down.
Later in the day, I took a shower... of sorts. I had recently installed a new showerhead with a long flex so I can wash Fred. It had fallen off the holder the day before and, unknown to me, cracked. So when I turned to the water, the showerhead blew up. Pieces of plastic flew and the headless hose flipped around spraying water everywhere.
I had jut finished replacing it (around 5pm) when I received 3 calls within minutes of each other from 3 different groups inviting me out for drinks. I accepted all 3 and began an 8-hour pub crawl during which all my drinks were free. The last group were forcing drinks on me ("you'll drink it, or wear it!") after I cut myself off. Thankfully the last place was 3 blocks away so I was able stagger my ass home. I spent that Sunday recouping.
3rd weekend:
Out again on Friday and didn't get to bed until 3am Saturday. Went out again Saturday night, brought someone home, and did not get to sleep until noon today. I spent the remaining day sleeping.
These 3 weekends have taught me:
1) My choices in women are not improving. I seem to deliberately avoid anything where I can have a stable relationship. Perhaps I'll write more tomorrow and explain my other WTF situation I currently have with a lady (neither one from this tale).
2) I'm not getting younger. While I can still drink FAR too heavily, I'm feeling the after-effects. As I've never had hangovers before, I'm not certain if these are them. I think the pub crawl's was actually alcohol poisoning. Either way, I need to watch this shit.
3) I'm in terrible shape. Although my weight's fine and I can still wear the same sizes I did 10 years ago, my bodily damage and the weather have caused me to be more lazy than normal. I've cut my exercise routine down from an hour 4 times a week to 30 minutes 3 times. And the jogging I started went right out when the temperature dipped below freezing and stayed there. This morning proved I need some cardio asap.
4) Speaking of cardio, the occasional ciggie I've had isn't helping either. I need to quit again.
5) Sundays are a good day to do nothing.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Mr Sunshine
That's what I've been called as a joke.
I'm not the most positive person ever.
So if I were to say that things are looking up for me, that gives even myself pause.
Employment:
I have a good job that I enjoy. Very little stress, more than adequate pay, and perks (like feeding me). Before the year's up, I'm getting a raise and a double-wide cubicle. Sure there's some crap that happens but that happens everywhere and in comparison to some jobs I've had, this job is gold.
Housing:
I close on my house on the 30th of this month. Structurally sound, beautiful landscaping, great interior, with just enough to redecorate and update that it'll keep me occupied for quite some time. And very affordable- less than an efficiency apartment affordable. Less than 15 minutes roundtrip to work- on 25 mph streets.
Relationships:
Most of my family still lives in the area so that's nice. Plus I've already made a few friends. I've deliberately avoided starting anything with women until I get fully on my feet, although flirting still OK ( ;) ). The women are quite different here than in TX or CA- they all seem to have personalities rather than issues- even the hot ones (!!!). There're 2 problems though: 1) most women up here get married in their early 20s so the number available in my age-range is limited & 2) there's one who's one of my new friends which may cause... concerns later on. For those who know me, add my history of women I work with to what I just wrote about women in WI and you can figure it out.
Weather:
Barring the rain that seems to occur every 3 days, I like it! The hottest it's been was still fine with me and the coldest (so far) had me still in shorts while actual Wisconsinites (Wisconsinians..?? I should know this...) were wearing jackets and wool hats. But I am preparing for sub-freezing conditions with loads of heavy clothing, extra prep on my vehicle, and I'll be purchasing a snow blower soon (gonna have 300 feet of sidewalk!!).
Food:
Mostly chicken and beef. Some seafood, hardly any pork. That's all well and good but I wouldn't mind a bit a variety. When I get settled into the house, I plan to venture out and try some north-central WI versions of Mexican and Asian cuisine. I think it'll be amusing. I do enjoy that the food's all cheaper here.
Basically, I like the way my life is turning around. The dread and depression hammering me for the last couple of years is lifting.
I'm not the most positive person ever.
So if I were to say that things are looking up for me, that gives even myself pause.
Employment:
I have a good job that I enjoy. Very little stress, more than adequate pay, and perks (like feeding me). Before the year's up, I'm getting a raise and a double-wide cubicle. Sure there's some crap that happens but that happens everywhere and in comparison to some jobs I've had, this job is gold.
Housing:
I close on my house on the 30th of this month. Structurally sound, beautiful landscaping, great interior, with just enough to redecorate and update that it'll keep me occupied for quite some time. And very affordable- less than an efficiency apartment affordable. Less than 15 minutes roundtrip to work- on 25 mph streets.
Relationships:
Most of my family still lives in the area so that's nice. Plus I've already made a few friends. I've deliberately avoided starting anything with women until I get fully on my feet, although flirting still OK ( ;) ). The women are quite different here than in TX or CA- they all seem to have personalities rather than issues- even the hot ones (!!!). There're 2 problems though: 1) most women up here get married in their early 20s so the number available in my age-range is limited & 2) there's one who's one of my new friends which may cause... concerns later on. For those who know me, add my history of women I work with to what I just wrote about women in WI and you can figure it out.
Weather:
Barring the rain that seems to occur every 3 days, I like it! The hottest it's been was still fine with me and the coldest (so far) had me still in shorts while actual Wisconsinites (Wisconsinians..?? I should know this...) were wearing jackets and wool hats. But I am preparing for sub-freezing conditions with loads of heavy clothing, extra prep on my vehicle, and I'll be purchasing a snow blower soon (gonna have 300 feet of sidewalk!!).
Food:
Mostly chicken and beef. Some seafood, hardly any pork. That's all well and good but I wouldn't mind a bit a variety. When I get settled into the house, I plan to venture out and try some north-central WI versions of Mexican and Asian cuisine. I think it'll be amusing. I do enjoy that the food's all cheaper here.
Basically, I like the way my life is turning around. The dread and depression hammering me for the last couple of years is lifting.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
The Night Sky
I stood outside for about an hour tonight, smoking the last of my Cuban cigars. I spent the time staring up through the trees to the sky. Watching the full moon dance in and out from behind the clouds, I felt old and young.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Life 6-29-9
Cripes!
You only realize how taxing an 8-to-5 job is when you start one after an 8 month break. It's now been 2 weeks and I still haven't gotten used to waking up at 6am- especially when I had been going to bed at 3-4am!
I like the job- if only for the nearly complete lack of stress. I do my job and that's it. The work is very dull and repetitious and there's an assload of it. So far, I've never had to twiddle my thumbs and search for something to do. The people are OK- not fun like from ZippyMail (and a few certain others from other jobs) but they don't tend to annoy me too much- which I like. And I do love OT you get paid for! Being on salary sucks when I worked 12-hour days.
Fred's been acting up the last few days because I've been gone so much. She feels neglected and I feel like a bad parent or something.
My computer got virused BAD right after I got back from L.A.. I mean- like that within hours "right after". A worm got in and started eating the linkage to any program that might be able to stop it. I finally got it quarantined ONLY by cutting off my access to my CheckDisk and Defrag programs. Feh! Luckily, I found better ones online- faster and with more options. Still sucks monkey though....
For a bit now, my car has had a gasoline smell when it first started up. I had attributed it to the new radiator and later, spilling some gas from the emergency tank in the trunk. But last week the smell was overpowering. I took it in Sunday and all it was was a loose clamp on the fuel line. HOWEVER (or should I say- naturally) the mechanics found about $1400 worth of further problems- like needing new rear wheel bearings, rear differential, rear brakes, & front half shafts. I laughed when I got the list- partly as I don't have $1400 to spend on the car, partly because the Blue Book on it isn't much more than $1400, and partly because this type of occurrence is so "me".
I have to get the repairs done piecemeal. I'm going to buy the parts myself and save about $250 then shop around for the best labor costs.
Because this will be sucking up all my extra cash (and I was already penny-pinching for my trip in September), I can't make it to the San Diego ComicCon this year. And I could have gotten in free, thanks to my sis. CURSES- foiled again! Maybe next year....
Apart from this The Drama, not really much is going on. Just trying to get back in the "gotta get up and drive to work" groove.
Well, if I don't hear from ya- have a good 4th!
Be like Michael Bay 'n blow some shit up- just don't be like him and spend $100 million doing it....
You only realize how taxing an 8-to-5 job is when you start one after an 8 month break. It's now been 2 weeks and I still haven't gotten used to waking up at 6am- especially when I had been going to bed at 3-4am!
I like the job- if only for the nearly complete lack of stress. I do my job and that's it. The work is very dull and repetitious and there's an assload of it. So far, I've never had to twiddle my thumbs and search for something to do. The people are OK- not fun like from ZippyMail (and a few certain others from other jobs) but they don't tend to annoy me too much- which I like. And I do love OT you get paid for! Being on salary sucks when I worked 12-hour days.
Fred's been acting up the last few days because I've been gone so much. She feels neglected and I feel like a bad parent or something.
My computer got virused BAD right after I got back from L.A.. I mean- like that within hours "right after". A worm got in and started eating the linkage to any program that might be able to stop it. I finally got it quarantined ONLY by cutting off my access to my CheckDisk and Defrag programs. Feh! Luckily, I found better ones online- faster and with more options. Still sucks monkey though....
For a bit now, my car has had a gasoline smell when it first started up. I had attributed it to the new radiator and later, spilling some gas from the emergency tank in the trunk. But last week the smell was overpowering. I took it in Sunday and all it was was a loose clamp on the fuel line. HOWEVER (or should I say- naturally) the mechanics found about $1400 worth of further problems- like needing new rear wheel bearings, rear differential, rear brakes, & front half shafts. I laughed when I got the list- partly as I don't have $1400 to spend on the car, partly because the Blue Book on it isn't much more than $1400, and partly because this type of occurrence is so "me".
I have to get the repairs done piecemeal. I'm going to buy the parts myself and save about $250 then shop around for the best labor costs.
Because this will be sucking up all my extra cash (and I was already penny-pinching for my trip in September), I can't make it to the San Diego ComicCon this year. And I could have gotten in free, thanks to my sis. CURSES- foiled again! Maybe next year....
Apart from this The Drama, not really much is going on. Just trying to get back in the "gotta get up and drive to work" groove.
Well, if I don't hear from ya- have a good 4th!
Be like Michael Bay 'n blow some shit up- just don't be like him and spend $100 million doing it....
Monday, March 30, 2009
New Digs
Well, here I am. All settled into my new place. And somewhat down about it.
It's my pride that's causing the problem. I loved that house- it was perfect for me, my needs (current and future), and had a huge yard for my dog. Now we live in a condo where the backyard is approximately the same size as the room I rent. No more sitting in the grass on clear, starry nights, drinking beer and playing fetch with Fred. And it kills me that I lost it.
Last night (which, coincidentally was my last night there), I was curled up with my pup, scratching her belly. But unlike most times, it didn't make me feel better. I felt like I had failed her. My dog (if you're completely oblivious) is the closest thing I have (and will probably ever have) to a child. So I felt like some kind of bad parent.
Yeah, I'm insane- I realize that.
Don't get me wrong- I greatly appreciate my friend for taking me in. She didn't have to and the offer itself was enough to stun me. As much as this is an adjustment for me 'n the dog, it has to be several magnitudes greater for her (Fred can be very MEMEMEMEME!!!HEY!LOOKATME!!!!).
I'll feel better soon.
I may not have loads of cash or a job or my own place, but I have family and friends and the unconditional love of my "daughter" who's currently snoring gently at my feet. I have more than some people so it's foolish to whine for too long. I'm fortunate enough to have people who care.
To any of my friends: if there's anything I can ever do to help you, I will. It's who I am. Take it or leave it.
Enough sentiment. G'nite.
It's my pride that's causing the problem. I loved that house- it was perfect for me, my needs (current and future), and had a huge yard for my dog. Now we live in a condo where the backyard is approximately the same size as the room I rent. No more sitting in the grass on clear, starry nights, drinking beer and playing fetch with Fred. And it kills me that I lost it.
Last night (which, coincidentally was my last night there), I was curled up with my pup, scratching her belly. But unlike most times, it didn't make me feel better. I felt like I had failed her. My dog (if you're completely oblivious) is the closest thing I have (and will probably ever have) to a child. So I felt like some kind of bad parent.
Yeah, I'm insane- I realize that.
Don't get me wrong- I greatly appreciate my friend for taking me in. She didn't have to and the offer itself was enough to stun me. As much as this is an adjustment for me 'n the dog, it has to be several magnitudes greater for her (Fred can be very MEMEMEMEME!!!HEY!LOOKATME!!!!).
I'll feel better soon.
I may not have loads of cash or a job or my own place, but I have family and friends and the unconditional love of my "daughter" who's currently snoring gently at my feet. I have more than some people so it's foolish to whine for too long. I'm fortunate enough to have people who care.
To any of my friends: if there's anything I can ever do to help you, I will. It's who I am. Take it or leave it.
Enough sentiment. G'nite.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday #13
Today was like any other day, only less so.
I've been ignoring things lately. Almost every thing I possibly can. My diet borders on ridiculous, almost to the point that I go out with friends just to force myself to eat with them. My household chores go undone. My playtime with Fred is at a minimum (in my defense- the weather has been very unpleasant). My personal grooming... well, look back to my statement concerning food & going out with friends and you'll get the idea.
I have become completed unmotivated. No job, unemployment is running out, old people I like keep dieing, and frankly- my new "people friendly" persona is weighing on me (ever try to brood with a smile on your face?). Even drinking is no longer effective- as a motivator or a pain-killer.
But I did do something today: I made a decision to move. I've spent a lot of time, effort, and money making this place my home, more than any other, but I can't manage it much longer.
However the decision isn't complete. I still need to figure out where to go. At this time, I have 3 choices and all of them seem like... crushing defeats compared to my current home. With all of them, I lose room, independence, and certain freedoms.
Aside from the simple and very real ache of losing this house, there's also breaking my promise to myself that I would never again live with someone who wasn't "The One". Apart from being late, breaking my word (even to myself) is what I loathe the most. Sadly, my choices are too limited to afford living alone.
And the urge to stay in this city is both lessening due to 2 friends moving away and strengthening due to a growing connection. Relocating to either 1 of the other 2 choices means a different state and relatives (can't you almost hear the sound of canned Halloween screams in the background?).
So I have 10 days to decide my fate. Well- my housing fate. :)
I've been ignoring things lately. Almost every thing I possibly can. My diet borders on ridiculous, almost to the point that I go out with friends just to force myself to eat with them. My household chores go undone. My playtime with Fred is at a minimum (in my defense- the weather has been very unpleasant). My personal grooming... well, look back to my statement concerning food & going out with friends and you'll get the idea.
I have become completed unmotivated. No job, unemployment is running out, old people I like keep dieing, and frankly- my new "people friendly" persona is weighing on me (ever try to brood with a smile on your face?). Even drinking is no longer effective- as a motivator or a pain-killer.
But I did do something today: I made a decision to move. I've spent a lot of time, effort, and money making this place my home, more than any other, but I can't manage it much longer.
However the decision isn't complete. I still need to figure out where to go. At this time, I have 3 choices and all of them seem like... crushing defeats compared to my current home. With all of them, I lose room, independence, and certain freedoms.
Aside from the simple and very real ache of losing this house, there's also breaking my promise to myself that I would never again live with someone who wasn't "The One". Apart from being late, breaking my word (even to myself) is what I loathe the most. Sadly, my choices are too limited to afford living alone.
And the urge to stay in this city is both lessening due to 2 friends moving away and strengthening due to a growing connection. Relocating to either 1 of the other 2 choices means a different state and relatives (can't you almost hear the sound of canned Halloween screams in the background?).
So I have 10 days to decide my fate. Well- my housing fate. :)
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Uncle Sam Needs You(r Money)!
I mailed my Federal Tax forms last Sunday. I owed $92.55 (although this works out as CA owes me $330). What I found both humorous and alarming is that my check was cashed on Thursday. The government received my forms, processed and checked them, and cashed my payment in less than 4 days.
Anybody else got a feeling they were just excited to get the money?
Anybody else got a feeling they were just excited to get the money?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Grace
I traveled to Arizona for Christmas and stayed at my aunt's place in Cave Creek. She has 110 acres there with 5 houses on it and takes care of a 103 year-old woman- Grace Frederick (formerly Voss).
I've known Grace for 25 years. When I first met her (in her 80s), Grace was full of life and stories and humor. She was a Broadway star and literally the first woman ever broadcast on television. I recall being so in awe of her when I was a child. During more recent years, her mind began to decline. She could still remember her stories & her wit and personality were there, but she had trouble with names and faces.
I recall the last time I saw Grace. It was the night before I flew back and we were sitting around a table, talking. Grace was joking with me about my (lack of) love life. It was a bit heart-rending, but she asked my name 6 times in that conversation. When she had to leave, she took my hand and I was impressed at how strong her grip was.
Grace suffered a major stroke the Sunday after I left. Although she still had her faculties (as they were), she was moved into a hospice as her prognosis was "only a matter of days". Last Thursday night, I was online and checked my bank account and was very surprised to see a deposit- a sizable deposit. I called my parents (my mother had extended her stay in AZ after Grace's stroke and my father flown back), and they told me Grace had them put the money in. I was... stunned... to say the least- that she would think of me at all, much less in her situation. As she could not receive calls (and it was past 11pm in AZ), I wrote Grace a "get well"/ "thank you" card before I went to bed and I mailed it out Friday afternoon while doing some errands. A little before 7 Friday night, my mother called to say Grace passed away a few hours earlier- about the same time I had mailed her card.
Saturday afternoon, I excused myself from the yard sale I was hosting and called my mother and my aunt. I expressed my condolences and said a few words to my aunt about what a great woman Grace had been. After we hung up, I cried quietly in my kitchen for a moment or so- the first time I have done so for quite a while.
I have not slept since the news of her passing. Although the biological need may soon overtake, I find myself disinterested in sleep. When I close my eyes, all I can think of is Grace's hand grasping mine so firmly.
www.zebramotionarts.com/portfolio/commercial/grace.html
(Grace from 10 years ago)
I've known Grace for 25 years. When I first met her (in her 80s), Grace was full of life and stories and humor. She was a Broadway star and literally the first woman ever broadcast on television. I recall being so in awe of her when I was a child. During more recent years, her mind began to decline. She could still remember her stories & her wit and personality were there, but she had trouble with names and faces.
I recall the last time I saw Grace. It was the night before I flew back and we were sitting around a table, talking. Grace was joking with me about my (lack of) love life. It was a bit heart-rending, but she asked my name 6 times in that conversation. When she had to leave, she took my hand and I was impressed at how strong her grip was.
Grace suffered a major stroke the Sunday after I left. Although she still had her faculties (as they were), she was moved into a hospice as her prognosis was "only a matter of days". Last Thursday night, I was online and checked my bank account and was very surprised to see a deposit- a sizable deposit. I called my parents (my mother had extended her stay in AZ after Grace's stroke and my father flown back), and they told me Grace had them put the money in. I was... stunned... to say the least- that she would think of me at all, much less in her situation. As she could not receive calls (and it was past 11pm in AZ), I wrote Grace a "get well"/ "thank you" card before I went to bed and I mailed it out Friday afternoon while doing some errands. A little before 7 Friday night, my mother called to say Grace passed away a few hours earlier- about the same time I had mailed her card.
Saturday afternoon, I excused myself from the yard sale I was hosting and called my mother and my aunt. I expressed my condolences and said a few words to my aunt about what a great woman Grace had been. After we hung up, I cried quietly in my kitchen for a moment or so- the first time I have done so for quite a while.
I have not slept since the news of her passing. Although the biological need may soon overtake, I find myself disinterested in sleep. When I close my eyes, all I can think of is Grace's hand grasping mine so firmly.
www.zebramotionarts.com/portfolio/commercial/grace.html
(Grace from 10 years ago)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Check It Out
I added PostSecret to my blog list. It was introduced to me in 2007 and is one of the most... emotional sites I've seen. And by "emotional" I mean you can cry, laugh, smile, fume, experience any emotion just from what might be on the first page.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
The King Of Dreams
There once was a man who was the King of Dreams. He lived in a castle with no windows that contained within every thing, every where, every when, and every how. He and his people were happy and content, their every wish a reality. The King of Dreams knew everything and everyone within his castle. Although his realm was forever changing, it was forever the same.
Years and years went by and the King of Dreams began to wonder what lay outside his sight, outside his castle. Finally, one day, he decided to have an adventure and go forth outside his castle. His wisest advisers counseled against this, but the King of Dreams was adamant and his word was law.
So the drawbridge came down and the King of Dreams walked out. Turning on the path, he cheerfully waved to his people in the castle as the drawbridge went up. Once he could no longer see the inside of his beloved realm, he continued on.
On and on and on, the King of Dreams walked. After what seemed ages, the King of Dreams came upon a little girl, kneeling down and picking flowers near the path. The little girl was someone new! Someone the King of Dreams had never met! The joy!
The King of Dreams stopped to greet the little girl.
“Hello, little girl,” he said pleasantly. “I am the King of Dreams.”
“Oh? I am a little girl,” said the little girl, not looking up from her flowers. “If you are a king, where is your castle?”
The King of Dreams turned to gesture towards his realm but realized he could not recall which direction he had come from.
“It is around somewhere,” he said dismissively. “Somewhere far off.”
“Do you have faeries there,” the little girl asked.
“Yes! Yes, we do,” said the King of Dreams.
“And elves and unicorns and dragons with wings and all the great creatures of imagining?”
“Why, some of my best friends are elves,” proclaimed the King of Dreams.
“Fields of singing flowers and houses of candy and rainbows ending in pots of gold,” she inquired.
“At many times and in many places- yes.”
“I know the place,” said the little girl, still picking flowers.
“Oh,” was all the King of Dreams could think of as a response. He opened his mouth to ask a question but….
“Why did you leave your realm when it sounds so grand,” asked the little girl.
“It is grand,” he replied. And the King of Dreams went on to describe all the wonders and beauty within his castle walls.
“Then why? Why leave it all,” she asked, still kneeling.
The King of Dreams thought for a moment. “I wanted to see what else there was,” he stated.
“But your castle- your people- all you could ever want or need or wish for. And you left them. Tsk,” said the little girl, her head still down, looking at her flowers.
The King of Dreams was perplexed and his brow furloughed. Could the little girl not understand his desire for more? His urning for new adventures? And why did the little girl not look upon the King of Dreams?
“Little girl,” said the King of Dreams, “why do you not look upon me?”
Standing up with her bouquet of flowers, she stated matter-of-factly, “you are the King of Dreams and I- a little girl. How can a dream be real?”
At this, the little girl walked away, leaving the King of Dreams all alone.
Years and years went by and the King of Dreams began to wonder what lay outside his sight, outside his castle. Finally, one day, he decided to have an adventure and go forth outside his castle. His wisest advisers counseled against this, but the King of Dreams was adamant and his word was law.
So the drawbridge came down and the King of Dreams walked out. Turning on the path, he cheerfully waved to his people in the castle as the drawbridge went up. Once he could no longer see the inside of his beloved realm, he continued on.
On and on and on, the King of Dreams walked. After what seemed ages, the King of Dreams came upon a little girl, kneeling down and picking flowers near the path. The little girl was someone new! Someone the King of Dreams had never met! The joy!
The King of Dreams stopped to greet the little girl.
“Hello, little girl,” he said pleasantly. “I am the King of Dreams.”
“Oh? I am a little girl,” said the little girl, not looking up from her flowers. “If you are a king, where is your castle?”
The King of Dreams turned to gesture towards his realm but realized he could not recall which direction he had come from.
“It is around somewhere,” he said dismissively. “Somewhere far off.”
“Do you have faeries there,” the little girl asked.
“Yes! Yes, we do,” said the King of Dreams.
“And elves and unicorns and dragons with wings and all the great creatures of imagining?”
“Why, some of my best friends are elves,” proclaimed the King of Dreams.
“Fields of singing flowers and houses of candy and rainbows ending in pots of gold,” she inquired.
“At many times and in many places- yes.”
“I know the place,” said the little girl, still picking flowers.
“Oh,” was all the King of Dreams could think of as a response. He opened his mouth to ask a question but….
“Why did you leave your realm when it sounds so grand,” asked the little girl.
“It is grand,” he replied. And the King of Dreams went on to describe all the wonders and beauty within his castle walls.
“Then why? Why leave it all,” she asked, still kneeling.
The King of Dreams thought for a moment. “I wanted to see what else there was,” he stated.
“But your castle- your people- all you could ever want or need or wish for. And you left them. Tsk,” said the little girl, her head still down, looking at her flowers.
The King of Dreams was perplexed and his brow furloughed. Could the little girl not understand his desire for more? His urning for new adventures? And why did the little girl not look upon the King of Dreams?
“Little girl,” said the King of Dreams, “why do you not look upon me?”
Standing up with her bouquet of flowers, she stated matter-of-factly, “you are the King of Dreams and I- a little girl. How can a dream be real?”
At this, the little girl walked away, leaving the King of Dreams all alone.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
My Drunken View On Survival
First off, I apologize for this rant and the rambling, non-sensical nature of it. I realize it and I don't care. This whole thing is tired and dreary. I’m very depressed & down-on-myself right now and especially very... not sober.
I am going on because I have nothing better to do. Take this as both the reason for writing this as well as the end meaning of it.
There’s a difference between surviving and living. To survive, all you need to do is not die. To live, you need to have a real life. Circular logic- yes, but logic nonetheless.
Many years ago (it depresses me even more to work out the actual number), I gave up trying for a life. So many defeats so many times, it was as if G*d was punishing a particularly slow student- repeatedly knocking my head against the wall, screaming “THIS IS AS FAR AS YOU’RE GETTING!!! CAN’T YOU LEARN THIS????!!!!!”.
Eventually, even the most ignorant animal can be trained through repetition.
Every once in a while, someone stumbles onto my path and, for a time, their path merges with mine. I think they’re waylaid into my life for a higher purpose- so they can see the example of what not to do. To see just how much shit someone can have thrown upon them and still be too damn dumb to lay down and stay dead. To view how sad (in every sense) a person can be. And to see how well they really have things.
I have a tendency to try and hold on to some of these better people. They are lifelines, in a way. They are golden strands I try to use to haul my stone soul from the tar. They are my Rapunzels. Is it no wonder I grasp so tightly at these people? Is it no wonder I let some go when I see they lack the means? Is it no wonder the others seek to shake me off? I don’t blame them. I can’t- I’m me.
I don’t care to really try anymore. My trophy cabinet of defeats is oversized & overflowing, and any others scattered about only read “participant”. I grow exhausted of rejection and knowing that any success is fleeting. Towards me, passion, achievement, & intimacy age at an accelerated rate, turning to dust as I watch.
I’m not special. I know this. I have known this all of life. I’m not even special with all the shit in my life- so many have it worse. I am, at best, mediocre. This is why I have no ego- not a real one. My bravado is fake and usually self-deprecating. I know my place in the universe. I will not be remembered in the annals of time. Songs will not be sung about me. Nothing about me, from me, for me shall go on after I’m gone. I am only while I am here.
I exist, many times over, only due to the literal toss of a coin.
My heart beats.
I breathe.
I have mass, volume, and density.
I am.
But I do not live.
I am resigned to survive only.
It’s sad when the reasons to be here don’t justify actually staying.
…
I am going on because I have nothing better to do. Take this as both the reason for writing this as well as the end meaning of it.
There’s a difference between surviving and living. To survive, all you need to do is not die. To live, you need to have a real life. Circular logic- yes, but logic nonetheless.
Many years ago (it depresses me even more to work out the actual number), I gave up trying for a life. So many defeats so many times, it was as if G*d was punishing a particularly slow student- repeatedly knocking my head against the wall, screaming “THIS IS AS FAR AS YOU’RE GETTING!!! CAN’T YOU LEARN THIS????!!!!!”.
Eventually, even the most ignorant animal can be trained through repetition.
Every once in a while, someone stumbles onto my path and, for a time, their path merges with mine. I think they’re waylaid into my life for a higher purpose- so they can see the example of what not to do. To see just how much shit someone can have thrown upon them and still be too damn dumb to lay down and stay dead. To view how sad (in every sense) a person can be. And to see how well they really have things.
I have a tendency to try and hold on to some of these better people. They are lifelines, in a way. They are golden strands I try to use to haul my stone soul from the tar. They are my Rapunzels. Is it no wonder I grasp so tightly at these people? Is it no wonder I let some go when I see they lack the means? Is it no wonder the others seek to shake me off? I don’t blame them. I can’t- I’m me.
I don’t care to really try anymore. My trophy cabinet of defeats is oversized & overflowing, and any others scattered about only read “participant”. I grow exhausted of rejection and knowing that any success is fleeting. Towards me, passion, achievement, & intimacy age at an accelerated rate, turning to dust as I watch.
I’m not special. I know this. I have known this all of life. I’m not even special with all the shit in my life- so many have it worse. I am, at best, mediocre. This is why I have no ego- not a real one. My bravado is fake and usually self-deprecating. I know my place in the universe. I will not be remembered in the annals of time. Songs will not be sung about me. Nothing about me, from me, for me shall go on after I’m gone. I am only while I am here.
I exist, many times over, only due to the literal toss of a coin.
My heart beats.
I breathe.
I have mass, volume, and density.
I am.
But I do not live.
I am resigned to survive only.
It’s sad when the reasons to be here don’t justify actually staying.
…
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