Last night, as I lay with Mara on her couch, I marveled at how different my life had become in only a matter of days. Last week, I had a job and was single. This week, I'm unemployed and have started seeing someone. I'm almost afraid to think about what next week might bring.
I hung out with Mara on Monday and Tuesday. I'll get into why I don't think it's too much too soon a bit later. First, I should introduce you to her.
Mara's a photographer (whose work is impressive, I might add) and she reminds me of a cat (after telling her this, she laughed and told me she's allergic to cats). I can't really articulate why this is so, except to say I think it has more to do with the way she expresses herself in a fluid, feline kind of way, than with her fondness for mice and milk.
The time I've spent with her so far has left me coated in a soft tingling buzz. On Monday afternoon, we met up at TrueGrounds to discuss which type of moving truck she should get (a topic I was schooled in because of my last job) to move a couch and sundry out of her old apartment. She was a little stressed over the prospect of not knowing if she'd find anyone besides myself to help out. It being the end of the month, she only had a couple of days to do all of this.
Once we figured out a plan, we spoke of other, less pressing, things. Moments like when she casually reached over and held my hand while we talking are sweet to reflect upon. We walked back to my apartment afterward and hung out on the couch. We kissed, fondled, and talked. At no time was it awkward, even during pockets of silence. It's been surprising how effortless this whole experience has been so far. And being surprised in a positive way is a surprise in itself.
Yesterday, along with her roommate, Matt, we moved the stuff out of her old apartment, which, especially regarding the couch, was a lot easier than it looked like it was going to be. She had rented a truck at Penske, where I was able to get her a discount because of my association with them at my dreaded last job. Strange being there in a different capacity, but it was good being able to say goodbye to one of the guys I knew there.
When we finished with the move around ten thirty, we went to the grocery store for some snacks and went back to her place and watched an episode of Lost on the couch we had just moved (The fact that it's a great black leather couch made moving it all the more worthwhile). I left after the show; we were both groggy and needed sleep.
Ok, now I'll address the too-much-too-soon issue and any other concerns in the form of a Q&A.
Let me get this staight, you had your first date with this woman on Saturday night, you hang out with her on Monday, and by Tuesday you're HELPING HER MOVE? Explain to me how that doesn't qualify as too-much-too-soon.
It's going to be hard, I think, for my response to be perceived as anything but a cop-out, but I'll forge ahead anyway and hope that at the very least it will seem like I believe it even if you don't. Here goes.
On paper, I'm dead to rights on the too-much-too-soon thing. I readily admit that. However, (I can already here you groaning) we've been conscious of taking things at a slow pace (e.g. not having sex, even when we really, really wanted to) and necessity shaped our last two encounters more than a giddy urge to be together in new-couple bliss. Look, there was no way I was going to decline to offer her any help with the couch, especially when I had recently ended up with a lot of time on my hands. And it was me who offered to help; it wasn't her idea, in case you're wondering if she's that kind of woman.
Are you worried that she might distract you from searching for a job?
The thought has crossed my mind on more than one occasion. I can see how easy it would be to brush off the job search and spend all my time thinking about and being with her. It's a common pitfall, and one I'm not saying I'm too smart to avoid, but I think I'll be alright. I think this way for two reasons: 1. Beginning a new relationship at this time will make me get a job sooner for the simple reason that there's nothing worse than dating someone when you have no money. I don't want to be that guy any longer than I have to. 2. Being unemployed again, and being fired to boot, isn't exactly a confidence boost. Having Mara in my life has made it easier to stay positive and focused. And confident. Having someone not only say yes to a date offer, but actually seem to be into me, has given my esteem a nice jolt of energy.
All in all I like the tempo of this relationship. We're both similar in that we enjoy our independence and are not into the idea of rushing things. I don't think we're going to be spending all of our free time together. That being said, I've really enjoyed being with her and I'm not about to take our relationship with a rigid approach (just in case you're wondering, when I say relationship, I'm saying it with a small "r" and not a big "R"). If we feel like seeing each other, we will. We're adults (although in my case, that's a dubious claim) and I'd like to think we're capable of navigating things in a healthy way.
In the truck last night, Mara told Matt I waited a week to call her after I asked her out.
"But you had gone away that week", I protested.
"I still had my cell phone on me", she joked.
"No, there was no way I was going to call you while you were away. That would have not have been courteous."
"I definitely agree", Matt said.
"What if I called you the next day?", I asked.
"I wouldn't have minded", she said as Matt and I laughed in disbelief.
"Of course you would have minded", I said. "And rightfully so. That would have been too soon."
"That must be a guy thing, because I think girls don't mind when they get the call".
Matt and I weren't having it. We agreed I had called her at the appropriate time, that any other time would have been inconsiderate and strange. I asked her if she would have minded if I called her that night, immediately after I asked her out. She thought that would have been a little odd, but she still wouldn't have minded. Matt and I weren't buying it.
There have been a lot of things about Mara that I like, but I won't go into all of them here. I don't know where things are headed, but I'm not in the business of trying to determine that. I'm having too much fun being in the moment and letting things unfurl as they might. When Spira asked me how things were going with Mara, I told her it was nice, that things were progressing organically. I wasn't exactly sure what I meant by that, but it was the closest I could come to articulating something special that's arrived in my life.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The King called up his jet fighters, he said you better earn your pay, drop your bombs between the minarets, down the Casbah Way
The sweet and the sour. My grandmother's back in the hospital for another surgery (she fractured one of her ribs) , making this the sixth one since December. I just spoke with her and she kept saying "Please, God, let this be the last time". I didn't know what to say.
My date with Mara went well. Better than expected, actually. We went out for Greek food and then went over to Christopher's for a drink. The mood there was low key and a touch somber. I found out why when I looked up at the TV and saw that the Celtics were about to lose a game to Atlanta. Guess I picked a good game to miss.
Afterwards, we went to her apartment and watched an episode of Lost in her living room. I checked out her roommate's turtle and Mara showed me how to get it sexually excited by tapping the glass of its tank. Never saw a turtle so animated before.
And that is where I will end the recap, because some things needn't be retold.
It was a good night.
--
It's a cool, gloomy day; the perfect climate to be a layabout. I'll probably get some reading done and maybe watch Sweeney Todd at some point. And maybe, just maybe, I'll see if I can win a game of basketball on PS2, something I've been unable to do of late.
My date with Mara went well. Better than expected, actually. We went out for Greek food and then went over to Christopher's for a drink. The mood there was low key and a touch somber. I found out why when I looked up at the TV and saw that the Celtics were about to lose a game to Atlanta. Guess I picked a good game to miss.
Afterwards, we went to her apartment and watched an episode of Lost in her living room. I checked out her roommate's turtle and Mara showed me how to get it sexually excited by tapping the glass of its tank. Never saw a turtle so animated before.
And that is where I will end the recap, because some things needn't be retold.
It was a good night.
--
It's a cool, gloomy day; the perfect climate to be a layabout. I'll probably get some reading done and maybe watch Sweeney Todd at some point. And maybe, just maybe, I'll see if I can win a game of basketball on PS2, something I've been unable to do of late.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
You're not the only one with mixed emotions
It feels strange being home on a Saturday; I haven't had one off in over a year. There are more adjustments to come. I woke up intermittently this morning with scenes from my former job dancing like sugar-plums in my head. I tried valiantly to rid myself of these images, but they were as persistent as horseflies. I told myself to ride it out, that my ego's just trying to make heads or tails out of this sudden and dramatic change in my life.
I like the perspective I have right now. Sure, I'm not quite filled with glee at the moment, but why would I be? Even though I'm much better off away from that job, it doesn't change the fact that I don't have one right now. And that is cause for concern. Yet, I believe I'm viewing the situation with clarity and that is what is going to get me through this. Below are several insights I've garnered concerning the matter.
--- Just because I've gone through the experience of having the experience of losing my job loop
in my head on auto pilot, doesn't mean I'm depressed over it. To be sure, I'd have a lot more
fun having a sexual encounter or a good conversation spin around in my head, but I'm seeing
this for what it is, something I've already mentioned above: my ego's reaction to a sudden
and dramatic change. And we all know the ego is not too keen on changes of that stature.
---I believe that at another time in my life, I'd be beating the shit out of myself for getting fired.
I'd equate it with failure and embrace my ego's interpretation that the apocalypse has landed
right on my head. I would eventually get over it and gain some perspective, but it would take
a lot longer than it will this time around.
---I'm allowing pockets of fear, despair, worry, what have you, have their moment in the
Sun. It's healthy and natural for these emotions to be expressed, but they will be given short thrift . They will be sat at the kids table where they belong.
I look forward to seeing Mara tonight. The timing does kind of suck, but as I mentioned in my last post, it's probably not a coincidence. Whether I like it or not, I'm entering a new phase in my life, at least concerning work, and, though it's a little daunting to think upon, it's also a bit exciting. Tonight with Mara, I will ask her to join me in celebrating my departure from that toxic hell hole of a job. No mourning allowed.
I like the perspective I have right now. Sure, I'm not quite filled with glee at the moment, but why would I be? Even though I'm much better off away from that job, it doesn't change the fact that I don't have one right now. And that is cause for concern. Yet, I believe I'm viewing the situation with clarity and that is what is going to get me through this. Below are several insights I've garnered concerning the matter.
--- Just because I've gone through the experience of having the experience of losing my job loop
in my head on auto pilot, doesn't mean I'm depressed over it. To be sure, I'd have a lot more
fun having a sexual encounter or a good conversation spin around in my head, but I'm seeing
this for what it is, something I've already mentioned above: my ego's reaction to a sudden
and dramatic change. And we all know the ego is not too keen on changes of that stature.
---I believe that at another time in my life, I'd be beating the shit out of myself for getting fired.
I'd equate it with failure and embrace my ego's interpretation that the apocalypse has landed
right on my head. I would eventually get over it and gain some perspective, but it would take
a lot longer than it will this time around.
---I'm allowing pockets of fear, despair, worry, what have you, have their moment in the
Sun. It's healthy and natural for these emotions to be expressed, but they will be given short thrift . They will be sat at the kids table where they belong.
I look forward to seeing Mara tonight. The timing does kind of suck, but as I mentioned in my last post, it's probably not a coincidence. Whether I like it or not, I'm entering a new phase in my life, at least concerning work, and, though it's a little daunting to think upon, it's also a bit exciting. Tonight with Mara, I will ask her to join me in celebrating my departure from that toxic hell hole of a job. No mourning allowed.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Can you picture what will be, so limitless and free
It's funny how things happen in life. A number of things had gone right for me today at work. I was expecting a shipment to arrive from UPS that had to go out this afternoon, and it arrived this morning. And since I was the one who had placed the order--an involved assembly of pipe and drape-- I was pleased that there were no errors. And there were a few other orders that went well, too. By 12:00, I felt like I had the day in hand. Everyone was working well together and even Kim was nice towards me.
As I drove home for lunch, I didn't allow myself to be too happy, though. I've conditioned myself ---and, believe me, I'd rather have it otherwise--- to always be suspicious when things seem to be going too well. Though I was having a good day, and though it seemed my job was safe, at least for another week, I still didn't feel right about my place there. Every time Kim or someone else got on the phone with Karen, I had the strong feeling they were talking about me.
My gut has served me well, as true as a compass. When it tells me something is amiss, it's usually right. I knew, from the way Karen and some of my coworkers had been acting, that I wasn't long for Taylor Rental. So when Karen pulled into the parking lot around two thirty, I was almost positive that I was going to be let go.
She came inside and Kim made herself scarce. Gio had just come in from a tent job and said he needed help on it. I tested the waters and volunteered to help set it up. Karen immediately said no, and that was when I knew for sure that I was done.
She then addressed me and told me that last week someone had called to place an order for delivery right before we closed and that I told them we were about to close and didn't have any drivers available. And then I guess I told them to try calling Taylor Rental in Arlington, since that's where they were calling from.
It was for this type of thing that Karen had wanted to fire me over in December. I told Karen I didn't remember this particular incident (and I still don't) , not in an effort to salvage my job, but to state the simple truth. Karen responded that she knew for a fact that the incident occurred and I wasn't going to argue with her about it. No point. She handed me an envelope with my last check and told me to give my keys to Gio.
I smiled to myself at her feeling the need to have Gio there, as if I was going to freak out on her. I've been nothing but relaxed and civil with Karen from day one, but I guess she didn't want to take any chances.
I left in silence. No goodbyes, except a quick one to Gio, who has seen so many people get fired there that he acted nonplussed. As I walked out the door, I heard Karen utter a soft "take care, Kevin". I didn't bother replying.
When I got in my car, I looked in the envelope she gave me and inside was a week's amount of pay. She had advanced me some money way back, so I didn't get my full two weeks worth. Fucking great.
Yes, I am screwed financially. Paying over four hundred dollars for car related bullshit this past week doesn't help my situation. And neither does the small paycheck. Still, though, at least I've got the tax gift from Uncle Sam coming in the mail. That should help.
Yes, it's funny how things happen in life. I just secured a date with Mara for tomorrow night and now I'm jobless. I can't tell if I'm on the cusp of some good changes in my life---different, better job/possible girlfriend--- or if this is the universe fucking with me. I'm inclined to think it's not, because if it is, well, hell, I might as well just stop living, because who wants to live in a world like that?
Without doubt, I needed to leave this job. The fact that I got fired will not look good on my resume , but I'm pretty sure I'll find a better job than this one regardless. In the end, I'm happy to see the back of that place. I won't be part of the insanity of the summer--I'll leave that to Kim, who is probably excited at my departure, and the rest of the fools---and that is a great relief.
I put in a lot of hard work there. I stayed late many times, despite Karen's judgment that I wouldn't go the extra mile, and I tried to do my best. No one will convince me otherwise. My send off was insulting, but I wasn't offended. I didn't leave in disgrace; I left victorious and relieved. I am better than that place. Yes, I am.
I don't expect the coming days to be easy, but at least I'm out of that den of vipers. I will look hard for a job and I will find one. I will remain positive and proactive. And I will, at least for a day or two, not fret about my sudden hardship.
I'm still absorbing the blow of being fired, but it's a nice day and a run should help my outlook. It's a little scary, my situation, but I believe I'll be the better for it. I sure hope so.
As I drove home for lunch, I didn't allow myself to be too happy, though. I've conditioned myself ---and, believe me, I'd rather have it otherwise--- to always be suspicious when things seem to be going too well. Though I was having a good day, and though it seemed my job was safe, at least for another week, I still didn't feel right about my place there. Every time Kim or someone else got on the phone with Karen, I had the strong feeling they were talking about me.
My gut has served me well, as true as a compass. When it tells me something is amiss, it's usually right. I knew, from the way Karen and some of my coworkers had been acting, that I wasn't long for Taylor Rental. So when Karen pulled into the parking lot around two thirty, I was almost positive that I was going to be let go.
She came inside and Kim made herself scarce. Gio had just come in from a tent job and said he needed help on it. I tested the waters and volunteered to help set it up. Karen immediately said no, and that was when I knew for sure that I was done.
She then addressed me and told me that last week someone had called to place an order for delivery right before we closed and that I told them we were about to close and didn't have any drivers available. And then I guess I told them to try calling Taylor Rental in Arlington, since that's where they were calling from.
It was for this type of thing that Karen had wanted to fire me over in December. I told Karen I didn't remember this particular incident (and I still don't) , not in an effort to salvage my job, but to state the simple truth. Karen responded that she knew for a fact that the incident occurred and I wasn't going to argue with her about it. No point. She handed me an envelope with my last check and told me to give my keys to Gio.
I smiled to myself at her feeling the need to have Gio there, as if I was going to freak out on her. I've been nothing but relaxed and civil with Karen from day one, but I guess she didn't want to take any chances.
I left in silence. No goodbyes, except a quick one to Gio, who has seen so many people get fired there that he acted nonplussed. As I walked out the door, I heard Karen utter a soft "take care, Kevin". I didn't bother replying.
When I got in my car, I looked in the envelope she gave me and inside was a week's amount of pay. She had advanced me some money way back, so I didn't get my full two weeks worth. Fucking great.
Yes, I am screwed financially. Paying over four hundred dollars for car related bullshit this past week doesn't help my situation. And neither does the small paycheck. Still, though, at least I've got the tax gift from Uncle Sam coming in the mail. That should help.
Yes, it's funny how things happen in life. I just secured a date with Mara for tomorrow night and now I'm jobless. I can't tell if I'm on the cusp of some good changes in my life---different, better job/possible girlfriend--- or if this is the universe fucking with me. I'm inclined to think it's not, because if it is, well, hell, I might as well just stop living, because who wants to live in a world like that?
Without doubt, I needed to leave this job. The fact that I got fired will not look good on my resume , but I'm pretty sure I'll find a better job than this one regardless. In the end, I'm happy to see the back of that place. I won't be part of the insanity of the summer--I'll leave that to Kim, who is probably excited at my departure, and the rest of the fools---and that is a great relief.
I put in a lot of hard work there. I stayed late many times, despite Karen's judgment that I wouldn't go the extra mile, and I tried to do my best. No one will convince me otherwise. My send off was insulting, but I wasn't offended. I didn't leave in disgrace; I left victorious and relieved. I am better than that place. Yes, I am.
I don't expect the coming days to be easy, but at least I'm out of that den of vipers. I will look hard for a job and I will find one. I will remain positive and proactive. And I will, at least for a day or two, not fret about my sudden hardship.
I'm still absorbing the blow of being fired, but it's a nice day and a run should help my outlook. It's a little scary, my situation, but I believe I'll be the better for it. I sure hope so.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Come on , baby, do you do more than dance?
I had a big, juicy post all ready to go yesterday, but there were posting issues and I couldn't publish it. Since it's already dated, I'll leave it be. However,I'll sum it up for you, just so you don't feel cheated.
The rest of the post documented my problems with trying to pay off parking tickets and renew my registration. I devoted at least two fairly long paragraphs to bitching about it. Consider yourself lucky I wasn't able to post anything last night.
And that was pretty much it. I finally made it to the registry and renewed my registration and, after I get it inspected, the only thing I'll need to do with my car is drive it. And make out in it, of course. Inspiration Point is calling my name.
I called Mara tonight and, though I was a little nervous about calling her, I feel I acquitted myself well in the conversation and managed to secure a date for Saturday night. I'm feeling pretty good right now, I must say.
--
KG and the Celtics once again made mincemeat out of the Hawks last night. And once again, KG was an insane motherfucker! I am very happy he's on our team.
I just received two movies from Netflix: Sweeney Todd and Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. I'm going to try and watch one of them tonight, but I'll probably just end up playing with my action figures. What, you don't play with yours anymore? All grown up, eh? Yeah, whatever.
And that was pretty much it. I finally made it to the registry and renewed my registration and, after I get it inspected, the only thing I'll need to do with my car is drive it. And make out in it, of course. Inspiration Point is calling my name.
I called Mara tonight and, though I was a little nervous about calling her, I feel I acquitted myself well in the conversation and managed to secure a date for Saturday night. I'm feeling pretty good right now, I must say.
--
KG and the Celtics once again made mincemeat out of the Hawks last night. And once again, KG was an insane motherfucker! I am very happy he's on our team.
I just received two movies from Netflix: Sweeney Todd and Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. I'm going to try and watch one of them tonight, but I'll probably just end up playing with my action figures. What, you don't play with yours anymore? All grown up, eh? Yeah, whatever.
Monday, April 21, 2008
When I cannot sing my heart, I can only speak my mind
As expected, the Celtics brutalized the Hawks at the Garden last night. KG brought his insanity level up a few notches for the occasion, scoring and rebounding at will, chattering constantly like a subway derelict, and, along with Sam Cassell, pounding on Leon Powe's chest, after Powe schooled Josh Smith at the rim with a crushing dunk. KG continued barking in Powe's ear well after the play was over. The Hawks watched this display with jaws agape. It will be looked upon as the exact moment when they realized there was absolutely no way they were going to win the series, that they were dealing with a force of nature in KG, and the Perfect Storm of a team in the Celtics. If the Hawks take a game in this series, it will be a miracle of the highest order. I'm not a betting man, but I predict a sweep.
And the Bruins have forced a game 7 with Montreal, which I don't think anyone, even the Bruins, could have seen coming. I convinced Spira to watch game 6 with me on Saturday night, and I'm glad she consented because it was an amazing game. I look forward to tonight, when the B's will attempt to force one of the biggest chokes since the last time these two teams met in the playoffs. The Bruins were the ones who choked in that series, so this would be all the more sweeter if they win the series.
--
Netflix screwed up and sent me a couple of extra movies. One of them, Shoot 'Em Up, starring Clive Owen, I think I'll watch today. I need to finish watching The Tracker first, which, so far, has been a strange film, one I'm not sure I gel with. I do, however, appreciate its mystery and originality.
Old Joy was haunting and lyrical with beautiful imagery throughout and good acting. I've never seen a film with Will Oldham, one of my favorite songwriters, before, and I was duly impressed with his seemingly effortless performance.
I tried explaining the film to Mara, the woman I asked out the other night, but I didn't do a very good job. My description of it got all knotted up. I couldn't believe I had a difficult go at explaining such a simple, Zen-like film. It was actually a comical scene, albeit at my expense.The fact that she didn't excuse herself immediately afterwards is a good indication that she'll be able to, at least in doses, tolerate my sometimes frustrating ways. Ah, but you know, she'll be in the company of a guy with a pure heart, so how bad could it be?
And the Bruins have forced a game 7 with Montreal, which I don't think anyone, even the Bruins, could have seen coming. I convinced Spira to watch game 6 with me on Saturday night, and I'm glad she consented because it was an amazing game. I look forward to tonight, when the B's will attempt to force one of the biggest chokes since the last time these two teams met in the playoffs. The Bruins were the ones who choked in that series, so this would be all the more sweeter if they win the series.
--
Netflix screwed up and sent me a couple of extra movies. One of them, Shoot 'Em Up, starring Clive Owen, I think I'll watch today. I need to finish watching The Tracker first, which, so far, has been a strange film, one I'm not sure I gel with. I do, however, appreciate its mystery and originality.
Old Joy was haunting and lyrical with beautiful imagery throughout and good acting. I've never seen a film with Will Oldham, one of my favorite songwriters, before, and I was duly impressed with his seemingly effortless performance.
I tried explaining the film to Mara, the woman I asked out the other night, but I didn't do a very good job. My description of it got all knotted up. I couldn't believe I had a difficult go at explaining such a simple, Zen-like film. It was actually a comical scene, albeit at my expense.The fact that she didn't excuse herself immediately afterwards is a good indication that she'll be able to, at least in doses, tolerate my sometimes frustrating ways. Ah, but you know, she'll be in the company of a guy with a pure heart, so how bad could it be?
Friday, April 18, 2008
And I will be alone again tonight with you
Went to the Somerville Museum last night to attend an exhibit of local artists. Spira and our friend Sarah each had a painting on display-- both very good, by the way -- and it was nice seeing their efforts being appreciated by the public. Wine and various food items were offered and, had I known I was going to be there a while, I would not have taken the course of abstention. Later on, as the din subsided and people made their way home, I looked at the table with all the empty wine bottles and food platters with regret. But, I was also in the process of asking a woman out on a date, so the regret was short-lived. I see I'm getting ahead of myself. Allow me to back track a bit.
Before we went to the museum, Spira and I hung out at her apartment and waited for her new boyfrie....no, too soon....uh, her new dating partner.....no, no, no, sounds too strange......ok, I've got it--- her new BFF. So we waited for her BFF, Sean, to arrive, and when he did, we walked over to the museum and met Sarah there.
There was a lot of art on display and I silently admired how it was presented. I walked around by myself for a while and then met up with Sarah and was introduced to one of her friends who she'd been talking to. Turns out, this woman was the one who hung all the art. I complimented her on the job she'd done and told her that I had just been admiring her work, even though it probably sounded like I had said it just to be nice.
I proceeded to ask her a ton of questions that had been on my mind. In no particular order, here's a sampling: 1. When you were in the process of displaying all of this stuff, did you drop anything? 2. And if you did drop something and damage it, what would you tell the artist? 2a. Or would you keep silent? 3. Have you noticed anyone criticizing someone's work and the artist overhearing it? 4. Were there any restrictions concerning what the artists could submit?
I'll let you guess at how she answered because, for National Security reasons, I can't divulge what she said. Anyway, we talked for a while and I was a little surprised that we stuck together for as long as we did. Usually, women get their fill of me after a couple of minutes. At one point, she gave me a guided tour of the sub-par submissions, which I was ecstatic about because I knew for a fact that I was the only one privileged enough to receive such a service.
As the night progressed, I was again surprised to find that I was still hanging out with her. Spira and Sean had left (on their way out, Spira came up to me with a big conspiratorial smile and said, "I thought you wanted to leave early to go watch the Bruins?") I hadn't really thought much about asking this woman out, but everything was pointing in that direction, so I gave it some consideration.
She introduced me to some of the artists. One of them, a guy named Tasker, was a glass blower and I asked him a welter of questions regarding his craft. Then we talked about his Swiss Army timepiece and how he should wear it near his heart so that, if he ever got shot, it would save his life. I told him to wear it over his throat if I was around, because that's where I would shoot him.
After pretty much everyone had left, she announced that she was going to go home. And that's when I asked her out. She said yes and took me downstairs so that she could give me a business card with her number on it. I walked outside with her and we parted ways. Not a bad night.
--
I had a busy, busy day at work and I'm too tired to write about some of the strange stuff that went down. Maybe I'll get to it another time. Oh, in case you're wondering, I did manage to catch the third period of the Bruins game and got to see them beat the habs. Of course, now there's another game on Saturday, when I have plans. Oh, well, maybe I'll get to watch some of it.
Before we went to the museum, Spira and I hung out at her apartment and waited for her new boyfrie....no, too soon....uh, her new dating partner.....no, no, no, sounds too strange......ok, I've got it--- her new BFF. So we waited for her BFF, Sean, to arrive, and when he did, we walked over to the museum and met Sarah there.
There was a lot of art on display and I silently admired how it was presented. I walked around by myself for a while and then met up with Sarah and was introduced to one of her friends who she'd been talking to. Turns out, this woman was the one who hung all the art. I complimented her on the job she'd done and told her that I had just been admiring her work, even though it probably sounded like I had said it just to be nice.
I proceeded to ask her a ton of questions that had been on my mind. In no particular order, here's a sampling: 1. When you were in the process of displaying all of this stuff, did you drop anything? 2. And if you did drop something and damage it, what would you tell the artist? 2a. Or would you keep silent? 3. Have you noticed anyone criticizing someone's work and the artist overhearing it? 4. Were there any restrictions concerning what the artists could submit?
I'll let you guess at how she answered because, for National Security reasons, I can't divulge what she said. Anyway, we talked for a while and I was a little surprised that we stuck together for as long as we did. Usually, women get their fill of me after a couple of minutes. At one point, she gave me a guided tour of the sub-par submissions, which I was ecstatic about because I knew for a fact that I was the only one privileged enough to receive such a service.
As the night progressed, I was again surprised to find that I was still hanging out with her. Spira and Sean had left (on their way out, Spira came up to me with a big conspiratorial smile and said, "I thought you wanted to leave early to go watch the Bruins?") I hadn't really thought much about asking this woman out, but everything was pointing in that direction, so I gave it some consideration.
She introduced me to some of the artists. One of them, a guy named Tasker, was a glass blower and I asked him a welter of questions regarding his craft. Then we talked about his Swiss Army timepiece and how he should wear it near his heart so that, if he ever got shot, it would save his life. I told him to wear it over his throat if I was around, because that's where I would shoot him.
After pretty much everyone had left, she announced that she was going to go home. And that's when I asked her out. She said yes and took me downstairs so that she could give me a business card with her number on it. I walked outside with her and we parted ways. Not a bad night.
--
I had a busy, busy day at work and I'm too tired to write about some of the strange stuff that went down. Maybe I'll get to it another time. Oh, in case you're wondering, I did manage to catch the third period of the Bruins game and got to see them beat the habs. Of course, now there's another game on Saturday, when I have plans. Oh, well, maybe I'll get to watch some of it.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I adore mi amor
Alas, the Bruins lost to the habs last night and are now down 3-1 in the series. Can they come back? They're about as likely to come back as I am to laugh at a Dane Cook joke (which, believe it or not, has happened before, so perhaps the B's have a chance after all). Anyway, it doesn't matter what happens to the Bruins because the Celtics begin their playoff run Saturday night and they are going to bring the ruckus.
--
We have a "Help Wanted" sign on our door at work that stays there whether we're looking for help or not. If it were up to me, I'd take the sign down when we're not hiring because, well, we're not hiring. So, when someone comes in and asks about the job and I tell him we're not hiring, nine times out of ten I'll get a valid response like, "So why the hell do you have a "Help Wanted" sign on your door?" Short of telling them I don't know why, I usually just tell them we haven't got around to taking the sign down yet, which is an admittedly lame response, but I never really know what else to say.
Anyway, on the back of the sign it says "No Positons Available", which can be read from the inside of the store. More times than I'd care to recount, people have come in inquiring about the job and, after reading the "No Positions Available" sign, have walked out in slump-shouldered dejection . Once, because I thought someone was being humorous about the dual nature of the sign, I told him the "Help Wanted" sign only applied to the parking lot and the "No Positions Available" sign only applied to the interior of the building. "So what do you need people in the parking lot for?", he asked.
I fear for humanity, I really do.
--
Just received Old Joy, my first Netflix movie, and expect to receive The Tracker, the Australian film I've been dying to see for years but could never locate, some time today. Yeah, I know, most of the population have been Neflixing (I coin terms like nobody's business) for years now, but I've learned to live with being a few steps behind most things. You should take a look at my cell phone; it doesn't even have access to the internet or a camera.
--
So, are you ready to hear me riff about creampies? No? Don't sweat it; it's not a topic one just dives into---well, for some of us it is, but......I guess what I'm trying to say is when you're ready, and there's no rush, we'll travel, hand in hand, to creampie country. And if you think you'll never be ready for the journey? Too fucking bad---as unpleasant as you may find it, you are going through with this, one way or another.
--
Regarding symbols in literature, I used to wonder, and still do, how often they are intentionally planted in the text by the author. If someone, say your college professor, tells you a button in a drawer symbolizes apathy, where was that knowledge gleaned from? Unless the author comes out and says, "Oh yeah, the button represents apathy for sure", isn't it all guesswork on the reader's end? Maybe that's the point, and I'm just too obtuse to realize it, but I was always told what something symbolized, as if it was a known fact. It was never, "Now, I'm just taking a shot in the dark here, but I think that button Kelly kept in the drawer represents the apathy she harbored towards her sister". Ah, it's probably never so either/or. I'm figuring there are numerous combinations of possibilities, such as: 1. author intends symbol/reader doesn't pick up on it 2. author intends symbol/reader picks up on it 3. author does not intend symbol/ reader sees one anyway.
So, in conclusion, I may never get to the bottom of this and, frankly, I don't care all that much if I ever do. What I'm more concerned about is Surri Cruise and her sudden descent into debauchery. Girl, you need to go to baby rehab before it's too late. Pacifier dependence is a serious, yet treatable, addiction.
--
We have a "Help Wanted" sign on our door at work that stays there whether we're looking for help or not. If it were up to me, I'd take the sign down when we're not hiring because, well, we're not hiring. So, when someone comes in and asks about the job and I tell him we're not hiring, nine times out of ten I'll get a valid response like, "So why the hell do you have a "Help Wanted" sign on your door?" Short of telling them I don't know why, I usually just tell them we haven't got around to taking the sign down yet, which is an admittedly lame response, but I never really know what else to say.
Anyway, on the back of the sign it says "No Positons Available", which can be read from the inside of the store. More times than I'd care to recount, people have come in inquiring about the job and, after reading the "No Positions Available" sign, have walked out in slump-shouldered dejection . Once, because I thought someone was being humorous about the dual nature of the sign, I told him the "Help Wanted" sign only applied to the parking lot and the "No Positions Available" sign only applied to the interior of the building. "So what do you need people in the parking lot for?", he asked.
I fear for humanity, I really do.
--
Just received Old Joy, my first Netflix movie, and expect to receive The Tracker, the Australian film I've been dying to see for years but could never locate, some time today. Yeah, I know, most of the population have been Neflixing (I coin terms like nobody's business) for years now, but I've learned to live with being a few steps behind most things. You should take a look at my cell phone; it doesn't even have access to the internet or a camera.
--
So, are you ready to hear me riff about creampies? No? Don't sweat it; it's not a topic one just dives into---well, for some of us it is, but......I guess what I'm trying to say is when you're ready, and there's no rush, we'll travel, hand in hand, to creampie country. And if you think you'll never be ready for the journey? Too fucking bad---as unpleasant as you may find it, you are going through with this, one way or another.
--
Regarding symbols in literature, I used to wonder, and still do, how often they are intentionally planted in the text by the author. If someone, say your college professor, tells you a button in a drawer symbolizes apathy, where was that knowledge gleaned from? Unless the author comes out and says, "Oh yeah, the button represents apathy for sure", isn't it all guesswork on the reader's end? Maybe that's the point, and I'm just too obtuse to realize it, but I was always told what something symbolized, as if it was a known fact. It was never, "Now, I'm just taking a shot in the dark here, but I think that button Kelly kept in the drawer represents the apathy she harbored towards her sister". Ah, it's probably never so either/or. I'm figuring there are numerous combinations of possibilities, such as: 1. author intends symbol/reader doesn't pick up on it 2. author intends symbol/reader picks up on it 3. author does not intend symbol/ reader sees one anyway.
So, in conclusion, I may never get to the bottom of this and, frankly, I don't care all that much if I ever do. What I'm more concerned about is Surri Cruise and her sudden descent into debauchery. Girl, you need to go to baby rehab before it's too late. Pacifier dependence is a serious, yet treatable, addiction.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Mi corazon suere y se llena de enojo
Kim was being a rotten fucking bitch today, which is to say I wasn't very pleased with her disposition. Whenever I asked her to do something, she'd level a contemptuous look at me, one that said, "I will do what you want me to, but only because, as the situation stands, you're my boss. But know this: I loathe you with every fiber of my being and find your managerial style to be comically ineffectual. Now why don't you go to Hell, you weak, weak man."
Unfortunately, I was too busy with my own stuff today to probe her about why she was being so icy towards me. I had the distinct feeling that someone had told her something negative I said about her yesterday when I had the day off. And because I do my best to keep my thoughts private in that nest of vipers I call work, whatever it was I said about her was most likely either greatly exaggerated or completely fabricated. And if something was said, and I hate to say it because we've been getting along, it was probably said by Gio.
Who knows if anything went down at all. My work environment lends itself to paranoia and Kim was probably just in a foul mood. As she was leaving tonight, I asked her if she had a problem with me and she told me she didn't, that she was just going through a bad time in her personal life. Do I believe her? I'm not sure, but I really don't care all that much, either. Maybe, if she was hot, I'd put more of an effort into keeping the peace, but she's not, so I guess we'll have to see how things play out. Is that shallow of me? You're right--- it most definitely is not.
--
I'm planning on watching the Bruins tonight, though I don't have much faith they'll pull out another win against Montreal, who are clearly superior in almost every aspect (they're also better people in their personal lives). But I love rooting for the underdog, so I'm hoping the B's give them trouble.
--
I've finally gotten around to watching the new version of Battlestar Galactica. When it first came out on SciFi, I imagined it was going to be sucky for two reasons: because it was a remake of an old corny tv show starring Dirk Benedict and because it was airing on Scifi, a station not exactly on par with HBO when it comes to producing quality shows.
After hearing how great it was from varied sources, I finally decided to see what all the fuss was about. My verdict? Fucking great show! They were right. Mature plotting, great acting, killer premise---it's got it all. I have to say, I'm impressed. And also, if there had been any doubt, a full fledged nerd. As you may know, that doesn't sit well with me because I fucking hate nerds! Oh, the complexity of life.--
I was just reading about a book called Experiments With Time, that was written in the 20's by J.W. Dunne, who I think was a physicist, or at the very least a scholarly chap. The basic premise of the book is that dreams are actually memories of future events. I can't tell you how many times I've had the feeling of deja vu and thought that it really was just a part of a dream that came to fruition. I'm going to have to check this book out, especially now that I'm a full fledged nerd.
Well, there's still hope for me. I am, after all, about to watch the brutal game of hockey and if I have time in the next day or two, I'm going to trade in my Taurus for a hulking, intimidating pick up truck. I'm going to be Ford tough, bitches. Look out.
Unfortunately, I was too busy with my own stuff today to probe her about why she was being so icy towards me. I had the distinct feeling that someone had told her something negative I said about her yesterday when I had the day off. And because I do my best to keep my thoughts private in that nest of vipers I call work, whatever it was I said about her was most likely either greatly exaggerated or completely fabricated. And if something was said, and I hate to say it because we've been getting along, it was probably said by Gio.
Who knows if anything went down at all. My work environment lends itself to paranoia and Kim was probably just in a foul mood. As she was leaving tonight, I asked her if she had a problem with me and she told me she didn't, that she was just going through a bad time in her personal life. Do I believe her? I'm not sure, but I really don't care all that much, either. Maybe, if she was hot, I'd put more of an effort into keeping the peace, but she's not, so I guess we'll have to see how things play out. Is that shallow of me? You're right--- it most definitely is not.
--
I'm planning on watching the Bruins tonight, though I don't have much faith they'll pull out another win against Montreal, who are clearly superior in almost every aspect (they're also better people in their personal lives). But I love rooting for the underdog, so I'm hoping the B's give them trouble.
--
I've finally gotten around to watching the new version of Battlestar Galactica. When it first came out on SciFi, I imagined it was going to be sucky for two reasons: because it was a remake of an old corny tv show starring Dirk Benedict and because it was airing on Scifi, a station not exactly on par with HBO when it comes to producing quality shows.
After hearing how great it was from varied sources, I finally decided to see what all the fuss was about. My verdict? Fucking great show! They were right. Mature plotting, great acting, killer premise---it's got it all. I have to say, I'm impressed. And also, if there had been any doubt, a full fledged nerd. As you may know, that doesn't sit well with me because I fucking hate nerds! Oh, the complexity of life.--
I was just reading about a book called Experiments With Time, that was written in the 20's by J.W. Dunne, who I think was a physicist, or at the very least a scholarly chap. The basic premise of the book is that dreams are actually memories of future events. I can't tell you how many times I've had the feeling of deja vu and thought that it really was just a part of a dream that came to fruition. I'm going to have to check this book out, especially now that I'm a full fledged nerd.
Well, there's still hope for me. I am, after all, about to watch the brutal game of hockey and if I have time in the next day or two, I'm going to trade in my Taurus for a hulking, intimidating pick up truck. I'm going to be Ford tough, bitches. Look out.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Free love on the free love freeway, where the love is free and the freeway is long
I had a frustrating weekend at work and it had nothing to do with orders getting messed up or shitty customers. It was more the lack of confidence Karen showed in me. Her expectations of me, in some instances, are exceedingly high, and if I had the right staff and eight arms, I probably would be able to meet them. I stayed close to two hours late last night trying to put things in order, but I had the sinking feeling that my efforts wouldn't have an impact.
Gio, in his new position as Warehouse Manager, has been feeling the heat, as well, and if he sticks to his guns (something he's not been very successful at), he will relinquish said position and its added responsibilities and return to the simpler days of being a driver. Of course, he wasn't able to handle that job for very long before suffering some sort of break down, but everything is relative and the evil you know and all that jazz.
So what does this mean for me, if he demotes himself? It means more fucking headaches, that's what it means. It also means I better start gathering my gear because this son of a bitch needs to abandon ship.
--
You know the type of guy I'd like to be? No, not a handsome, erudite, pure-hearted, and erotically dangerous one, because, as you are well aware, I'm already that guy. The guy I'd like to be is the guy who, when being followed stealthily, stops at some point and says casually, "Ok, you can come out now". See, that would be amazing to be that guy because he should not have known he was being followed because, and I neglected to mention this, he was being stalked by Native American's who have been tracking their entire lives and were also Navy Seals. Yeah, that's the guy I want to be. Also, I'd like to have lasers shoot out of my eyes.
--
I'm not sure why, but I've been waking up the last few days with the chorus to Build Me Up, Butter Cup looping in my head. I can't say I'm a fan of the song, but it's better than You're Still the One and it is pretty uplifting. That could bode well for me. But who is this Butter Cup I'm telling to lift me up? Hmmmmm..........
--
Netflix is dangerous. One can spend hours browsing its library and toying with one's queue. Last night, I found myself deep in the trenches of possibilities. What should I have follow City Lights? Oh, I know, I'll follow it with Elizabeth because somehow Chaplin and Cate Blanchett will pair up nicely. And should Band of Brothers be sandwiched between The Passion of Joan of Arc and Sword of Doom? Hmm, I don't know. Maybe I should go for a walk and contemplate this.
Yes, Netflix is dangerous.
Gio, in his new position as Warehouse Manager, has been feeling the heat, as well, and if he sticks to his guns (something he's not been very successful at), he will relinquish said position and its added responsibilities and return to the simpler days of being a driver. Of course, he wasn't able to handle that job for very long before suffering some sort of break down, but everything is relative and the evil you know and all that jazz.
So what does this mean for me, if he demotes himself? It means more fucking headaches, that's what it means. It also means I better start gathering my gear because this son of a bitch needs to abandon ship.
--
You know the type of guy I'd like to be? No, not a handsome, erudite, pure-hearted, and erotically dangerous one, because, as you are well aware, I'm already that guy. The guy I'd like to be is the guy who, when being followed stealthily, stops at some point and says casually, "Ok, you can come out now". See, that would be amazing to be that guy because he should not have known he was being followed because, and I neglected to mention this, he was being stalked by Native American's who have been tracking their entire lives and were also Navy Seals. Yeah, that's the guy I want to be. Also, I'd like to have lasers shoot out of my eyes.
--
I'm not sure why, but I've been waking up the last few days with the chorus to Build Me Up, Butter Cup looping in my head. I can't say I'm a fan of the song, but it's better than You're Still the One and it is pretty uplifting. That could bode well for me. But who is this Butter Cup I'm telling to lift me up? Hmmmmm..........
--
Netflix is dangerous. One can spend hours browsing its library and toying with one's queue. Last night, I found myself deep in the trenches of possibilities. What should I have follow City Lights? Oh, I know, I'll follow it with Elizabeth because somehow Chaplin and Cate Blanchett will pair up nicely. And should Band of Brothers be sandwiched between The Passion of Joan of Arc and Sword of Doom? Hmm, I don't know. Maybe I should go for a walk and contemplate this.
Yes, Netflix is dangerous.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
I'm waiting for you in the gloom and the blazing
I awoke shortly after four o'clock this morning to the dull throbbing of music coming from somewhere in the house. All I heard were two notes favoring the low end of the spectrum. Duum dooom, duum dooom, dum dooom, over and over again. I managed to fall back asleep, but only for about fifteen minutes before I awoke again to the insistent pulse of duum dooom, duum dooom, duum dooom.
How could this song still be playing, I asked myself. I questioned whether it was a song at all. Maybe it was from my fan or computer. Maybe I was imagining it. As curious as I was, I needed to go back to sleep. I wasn't feeling so hot earlier in the evening and I tried to make a point to get as much sleep as possible. The way things were shaping up, my plan wasn't going to come to fruition. So, I put on my sound machine in an attempt to drown out the throbbing bass notes coming from who the hell knew where.
Didn't work. A little after five, I got up to investigate. I went out in the hallway and discovered where the sound was coming from---Craig's room. I determined that he had fallen asleep while watching a dvd and when whatever he was watching (my guess was Legally Blond, his all time favorite movie besides K-9) had finished, the menu reappeared and looped the fuck out of a piece of music from the film.
I knocked on his door, but he didn't respond. I heard him snoring and I knocked again. No response, just snoring. I thought about banging louder (that's what she said), but I didn't want to wake Rich up (See how considerate I am? That's what having a pure heart does for you, bitches). I went back to my room and banged on the wall a couple of times. Nope. Nothing.
At this point, it was getting close to six and I was going to have to get up soon. I got out of bed and banged on the wall again. This was to be my last attempt at waking Mr. Stilskin. And you know what? It worked! He got up, turned the tv off and went downstairs to the bathroom to rid himself of some waste his body had accumulated. That was all well and good, but it was too late to go back to sleep, so I hung out in bed for a few minutes before getting up. I'm not going to lie to you, I was pretty effing tired.
Craig and I laughed about the whole thing earlier this evening. I guess the experience was a karmic debt I had to pay because not so long ago I fell asleep to an Alan Partridge dvd that, when the menu reappeared, kept looping the chorus to Abba's Knowing Me, Knowing You. Rich had to suffer through it before I finally woke up and shut it off. I guess if it was a karmic debt, it would make more sense if Craig was the one disturbed by the sound and not Rich, but I'm too tired to argue with you about it, ok? Just leave it be.
--
If I'm not mistaken, The Office is back from its hiatus and there will be a new episode tonight. I may end up missing it because I can't get NBC in my room and when I asked Rich if he any designs on the TV , he said he was thinking about watching the Bruins. I had the same idea, but The Bruins always let me down and The Office never has.
I've been watching The Office (UK) and the more I watch it, the more I realize how truly genius it is. It is one of the most perfectly constructed shows I've ever seen. I am hoping Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant put out a new show soon because I need more funny. How I Met Your Mother is just not cutting it.
--
I thought of her today and wondered if she knows. Something tells me she does, but what the fuck do I know? Maybe instead of sitting in my car in front of her place every night, I should go knock on her door and tell her what's what. Nah, that would be creepy.
How could this song still be playing, I asked myself. I questioned whether it was a song at all. Maybe it was from my fan or computer. Maybe I was imagining it. As curious as I was, I needed to go back to sleep. I wasn't feeling so hot earlier in the evening and I tried to make a point to get as much sleep as possible. The way things were shaping up, my plan wasn't going to come to fruition. So, I put on my sound machine in an attempt to drown out the throbbing bass notes coming from who the hell knew where.
Didn't work. A little after five, I got up to investigate. I went out in the hallway and discovered where the sound was coming from---Craig's room. I determined that he had fallen asleep while watching a dvd and when whatever he was watching (my guess was Legally Blond, his all time favorite movie besides K-9) had finished, the menu reappeared and looped the fuck out of a piece of music from the film.
I knocked on his door, but he didn't respond. I heard him snoring and I knocked again. No response, just snoring. I thought about banging louder (that's what she said), but I didn't want to wake Rich up (See how considerate I am? That's what having a pure heart does for you, bitches). I went back to my room and banged on the wall a couple of times. Nope. Nothing.
At this point, it was getting close to six and I was going to have to get up soon. I got out of bed and banged on the wall again. This was to be my last attempt at waking Mr. Stilskin. And you know what? It worked! He got up, turned the tv off and went downstairs to the bathroom to rid himself of some waste his body had accumulated. That was all well and good, but it was too late to go back to sleep, so I hung out in bed for a few minutes before getting up. I'm not going to lie to you, I was pretty effing tired.
Craig and I laughed about the whole thing earlier this evening. I guess the experience was a karmic debt I had to pay because not so long ago I fell asleep to an Alan Partridge dvd that, when the menu reappeared, kept looping the chorus to Abba's Knowing Me, Knowing You. Rich had to suffer through it before I finally woke up and shut it off. I guess if it was a karmic debt, it would make more sense if Craig was the one disturbed by the sound and not Rich, but I'm too tired to argue with you about it, ok? Just leave it be.
--
If I'm not mistaken, The Office is back from its hiatus and there will be a new episode tonight. I may end up missing it because I can't get NBC in my room and when I asked Rich if he any designs on the TV , he said he was thinking about watching the Bruins. I had the same idea, but The Bruins always let me down and The Office never has.
I've been watching The Office (UK) and the more I watch it, the more I realize how truly genius it is. It is one of the most perfectly constructed shows I've ever seen. I am hoping Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant put out a new show soon because I need more funny. How I Met Your Mother is just not cutting it.
--
I thought of her today and wondered if she knows. Something tells me she does, but what the fuck do I know? Maybe instead of sitting in my car in front of her place every night, I should go knock on her door and tell her what's what. Nah, that would be creepy.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Swing down sweet chariot, stop and let me ride
On the heels of a productive day at work yesterday, I went in this morning almost, I say almost, with a spring in my step. I wasn't there an hour when Karen came in unexpectedly and things went awry.
Have you ever had an experience that felt scripted? That, no matter how hard you try to sway events a certain way, they remain frustratingly rigid on their preordained path? Well, today that happened to me. Everything seemed to work against me while Karen was in. Even my thoughts and actions actively betrayed my better judgment. If I screw up 5% of the time at work, that 5% represented itself fully during the small window of time Karen was there. I half expected her to fire me, and the way things were going, I probably wouldn't have blamed her.
And to make things more interesting, I was nursing a sore throat that became so painful I could barely talk. I was convinced I was coming down with something. Rich has been sick for a week and a couple of people at work have been, too. It's never a good time to get sick, but c'mon, did I have to start getting sick on a day like today?
Remarkably, though, I felt much better after lunch. My sore throat had dwindled to the point of non existence and things started going my way a bit more. I left work wondering what the fuck that day was all about.
My throat is a wee bit sore right now and I feel a tad fatigued. Maybe I do have something. I think it's probably allergies, though I don't know if I'm allergic to anything. Whatever it is, I'm glad it's leaving my body.
Well, that's all the boring stuff you're going to get out of me tonight. I am tired and need to relax (I almost wrote chill-ax, but I sensed you'd never forgive me if I did).
Have you ever had an experience that felt scripted? That, no matter how hard you try to sway events a certain way, they remain frustratingly rigid on their preordained path? Well, today that happened to me. Everything seemed to work against me while Karen was in. Even my thoughts and actions actively betrayed my better judgment. If I screw up 5% of the time at work, that 5% represented itself fully during the small window of time Karen was there. I half expected her to fire me, and the way things were going, I probably wouldn't have blamed her.
And to make things more interesting, I was nursing a sore throat that became so painful I could barely talk. I was convinced I was coming down with something. Rich has been sick for a week and a couple of people at work have been, too. It's never a good time to get sick, but c'mon, did I have to start getting sick on a day like today?
Remarkably, though, I felt much better after lunch. My sore throat had dwindled to the point of non existence and things started going my way a bit more. I left work wondering what the fuck that day was all about.
My throat is a wee bit sore right now and I feel a tad fatigued. Maybe I do have something. I think it's probably allergies, though I don't know if I'm allergic to anything. Whatever it is, I'm glad it's leaving my body.
Well, that's all the boring stuff you're going to get out of me tonight. I am tired and need to relax (I almost wrote chill-ax, but I sensed you'd never forgive me if I did).
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
The Sons of the Silent Age make love only once, but dream and dream
Busy day at work today. Also frustrating--at least early on-- but I rebounded and the rest of the day went pretty well. Since it was one of the busiest days of the spring, Gio called out and I was stuck with Larry, who's not at the top of the list of drivers I'm confident in. He came to work this morning straight from his night job and though he was bragging to me about how he doesn't need much sleep and is able, due to his superior constitution, to subsist on only a few hours of it a week, by midday he was nearly catatonic and a real downer.
I accompanied him on the last few deliveries of the day and he was either completely silent or complaining about how tired he was the entire time. After repeatedly failing to strike up a conversation with him, I decided he wasn't worth the effort and sunk happily inward to attend to my extremely vivid and wondrous imagination.
One of our stops was at MIT and Larry parked the truck in front of the building at the bus stop. As we made our way towards the building, some kid started jawing at us about having to move the truck. If he hadn't come off as a pretentious weasel, I probably wouldn't have been as curt with him as I was. "Ok, where would you like us to park?", I asked him.
He looked around and when he didn't see any spots available, responded with, "Well, you can't park here."
Larry, still crabby, broke his silence and said "What the fuck does it matter to you where I park my truck?"
The kid, not wanting any part of Larry, clammed up and walked away. The kid had a point, though. I didn't want us to get towed, so once we found out where we were picking up, I had Larry drive around back and I found us a loading dock. I left him in the truck with his misery while I traversed the bowels of MIT looking for a way up to the room we needed to get to. On my way, I walked by a chalk board and solved a really difficult problem that was written on it. One of the professors came out of his classroom and, after seeing what I had done, called after me, but I told him to fuck off and went on my way. Yeah, I solved a problem none of his spazzy nerd students could solve. How do you like them apples?
--
I had some terrible dreams this morning before my alarm saved my ass and woke me up. Alas, I can't remember what happened in them. They faded as quickly as breath on a mirror.
--
Rick, our landlord's brother came by this evening and looked at our boiler with Rich. He said he's going to order a new one for us. I can't wait for this to happen. To once again have effective water pressure and options other than freezing and scalding as far as water temperature is concerned, will be a renaissance.
--
I was watching the Office (UK) last night and my dvd started skipping and pixilating through one of the best scenes of the series. It happened during David Brent's motivational speech in front of a group of strangers. It was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Besides punching the wall and crying, I didn't do much of anything after that.
--
I'm beat, so you'll have to wait until another day to hear me riff on cream pie's. And in case you're wondering, I am absolutely not referring to the dessert. Stay tuned.
I accompanied him on the last few deliveries of the day and he was either completely silent or complaining about how tired he was the entire time. After repeatedly failing to strike up a conversation with him, I decided he wasn't worth the effort and sunk happily inward to attend to my extremely vivid and wondrous imagination.
One of our stops was at MIT and Larry parked the truck in front of the building at the bus stop. As we made our way towards the building, some kid started jawing at us about having to move the truck. If he hadn't come off as a pretentious weasel, I probably wouldn't have been as curt with him as I was. "Ok, where would you like us to park?", I asked him.
He looked around and when he didn't see any spots available, responded with, "Well, you can't park here."
Larry, still crabby, broke his silence and said "What the fuck does it matter to you where I park my truck?"
The kid, not wanting any part of Larry, clammed up and walked away. The kid had a point, though. I didn't want us to get towed, so once we found out where we were picking up, I had Larry drive around back and I found us a loading dock. I left him in the truck with his misery while I traversed the bowels of MIT looking for a way up to the room we needed to get to. On my way, I walked by a chalk board and solved a really difficult problem that was written on it. One of the professors came out of his classroom and, after seeing what I had done, called after me, but I told him to fuck off and went on my way. Yeah, I solved a problem none of his spazzy nerd students could solve. How do you like them apples?
--
I had some terrible dreams this morning before my alarm saved my ass and woke me up. Alas, I can't remember what happened in them. They faded as quickly as breath on a mirror.
--
Rick, our landlord's brother came by this evening and looked at our boiler with Rich. He said he's going to order a new one for us. I can't wait for this to happen. To once again have effective water pressure and options other than freezing and scalding as far as water temperature is concerned, will be a renaissance.
--
I was watching the Office (UK) last night and my dvd started skipping and pixilating through one of the best scenes of the series. It happened during David Brent's motivational speech in front of a group of strangers. It was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Besides punching the wall and crying, I didn't do much of anything after that.
--
I'm beat, so you'll have to wait until another day to hear me riff on cream pie's. And in case you're wondering, I am absolutely not referring to the dessert. Stay tuned.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Though nothing will drive them away, we can be Heroes just for one day
Did my taxes and had lunch with my mother today. Going out to eat with her is often a wince-inducing experience. I love my mother---she's a sweet, caring woman---but when she steps into a restaurant, something demonic and terrible is unleashed in her.
Even at places she likes (there is only one---Luigi's in Bedford), there will be at least two aspects of the dining experience that she'll complain about, and usually to the unfortunate person waiting on us.
So, at The 99 today, we hadn't even sat down yet before she lodged two complaints. As the hostess led us to a table and set our menus atop it, my mother snapped, "I want a booth". The hostess obliged her and gathered the menus off the table and brought us to a booth. Once we were seated mother said with sardonic bite, "Of course we have to be sat all the way in the back. Wouldn't want to sit us at one of the empty tables up front". The hostess, who I'm sure couldn't wait to be done with my mother and tell her coworkers what a bitch she was, said, with as much politeness as she could muster, "I'm sorry, but we have a specific way we arrange seating".
When she left, I tried explaining to my mother what the hostess meant, but I knew it would have no effect. I silently hoped no one would spit in our food as I perused the menu. It was a good meal (I had the fish tacos) and my mother only complained a few more times about the service (When our waitress took our plates off the table well after we finished eating, my mother, in earshot of the waitress, said "She's trying to hurry us out of her so can seat more people. I looked around at all the empty tables and replied, "Uh, I'm not so sure about that. Her other complaints were about how drafty it was---one of her staples---and me getting the wrong drink, even though I didn't).
All in all, I enjoyed myself. Despite my less than flattering description of my mother's actions, I enjoy spending time with her. We've always had a special bond---even when we hated each other during my "difficult" years---and I love her a lot.
--
After my morning run yesterday, I started cleaning our kitchen. Craig offered his help and the two of us spent the next few hours going to town. We were thorough in our work and it shows. Feels good having a clean kitchen.
--
Our boiler has been leaking for well over a month and consequently, our water pressure and temperature has been off-kilter. We notified our landlord when we discovered the problem, but she said she couldn't afford to have the boiler fixed or replaced at that time.
Unfortunately, the boiler didn't heal from its injuries and the problem has persisted. We received our gas bill the other day and it was nearly double what we had paid last month, so Craig called our landlord and basically told her we weren't going to pay most of the bill. She told him not to pay it. From that, I gathered she was going to take steps to remedy the situation.
Rich spoke to our landlord's brother around the same time Craig spoke to the landlord. And today Rich informed me he called our landlord and explained to her the urgency of the situation. She told him her brother would be by in a day or two to assess the problem.
Rich told me if she doesn't move on this soon, he's going to tell her we're all moving out. I understand his need for action---the situation requires it---I'm just not sure I want him speaking for the household concerning matters we haven't discussed. He may have spoken with Craig about moving out and they may have both agreed that they would, but I wasn't part of that discussion.
As I stated, I understand the situation calls for urgency, which means staying on top of our landlord and making sure something is done about the boiler,which if unserviced will most likely go on us. However, I'm of a mind to consider our landlord's point of view. She's elderly and lives alone . According to her, she depends greatly on our rent checks every month to get by, and even then it's just barely. Whether that's true, I have no way of knowing, but from my experience with her, it would seem to be.
For where we live, our rent is considerably low, a fact all of us appreciate. If she was inclined, she could raise the rent substantially. She hasn't and says she wont. For that reason we've been patient with her about things in our house not getting fixed promptly . So, yes, the current situation requires urgency, but I don't believe it necessitates strong arm tactics. And I'm afraid, especially where Rich is concerned, that is the approach that will be put forth.
I spoke to him a little bit about my concerns and I could tell he didn't like what I was saying. All I told him was that I wanted to give her a chance, now that she was enlightened about the gas bill and the rapidly-declining boiler, to do something about it. I completely understand his anger and frustration---I feel it, too; just not as intensely.
Our landlord is probably going to need to buy a new boiler and they are not cheap. If she doesn't have the money to pay for it, she's going to have to figure something out. I'm willing to work with her on that, and I think the guys are too, as long as progress is being made. If I had the sense that she didn't give a shit about what was going on I would be more in Rich's camp, but I don't. Hopefully, things will work out to every one's satisfaction. If not, I see trouble on the wind.
--
Ok, I've got to get back shopping for Suri Cruise pictures online. And I'm crossing my fingers that Amazon will have a signed copy of her biography, which I'm absolutely dying to read!
Even at places she likes (there is only one---Luigi's in Bedford), there will be at least two aspects of the dining experience that she'll complain about, and usually to the unfortunate person waiting on us.
So, at The 99 today, we hadn't even sat down yet before she lodged two complaints. As the hostess led us to a table and set our menus atop it, my mother snapped, "I want a booth". The hostess obliged her and gathered the menus off the table and brought us to a booth. Once we were seated mother said with sardonic bite, "Of course we have to be sat all the way in the back. Wouldn't want to sit us at one of the empty tables up front". The hostess, who I'm sure couldn't wait to be done with my mother and tell her coworkers what a bitch she was, said, with as much politeness as she could muster, "I'm sorry, but we have a specific way we arrange seating".
When she left, I tried explaining to my mother what the hostess meant, but I knew it would have no effect. I silently hoped no one would spit in our food as I perused the menu. It was a good meal (I had the fish tacos) and my mother only complained a few more times about the service (When our waitress took our plates off the table well after we finished eating, my mother, in earshot of the waitress, said "She's trying to hurry us out of her so can seat more people. I looked around at all the empty tables and replied, "Uh, I'm not so sure about that. Her other complaints were about how drafty it was---one of her staples---and me getting the wrong drink, even though I didn't).
All in all, I enjoyed myself. Despite my less than flattering description of my mother's actions, I enjoy spending time with her. We've always had a special bond---even when we hated each other during my "difficult" years---and I love her a lot.
--
After my morning run yesterday, I started cleaning our kitchen. Craig offered his help and the two of us spent the next few hours going to town. We were thorough in our work and it shows. Feels good having a clean kitchen.
--
Our boiler has been leaking for well over a month and consequently, our water pressure and temperature has been off-kilter. We notified our landlord when we discovered the problem, but she said she couldn't afford to have the boiler fixed or replaced at that time.
Unfortunately, the boiler didn't heal from its injuries and the problem has persisted. We received our gas bill the other day and it was nearly double what we had paid last month, so Craig called our landlord and basically told her we weren't going to pay most of the bill. She told him not to pay it. From that, I gathered she was going to take steps to remedy the situation.
Rich spoke to our landlord's brother around the same time Craig spoke to the landlord. And today Rich informed me he called our landlord and explained to her the urgency of the situation. She told him her brother would be by in a day or two to assess the problem.
Rich told me if she doesn't move on this soon, he's going to tell her we're all moving out. I understand his need for action---the situation requires it---I'm just not sure I want him speaking for the household concerning matters we haven't discussed. He may have spoken with Craig about moving out and they may have both agreed that they would, but I wasn't part of that discussion.
As I stated, I understand the situation calls for urgency, which means staying on top of our landlord and making sure something is done about the boiler,which if unserviced will most likely go on us. However, I'm of a mind to consider our landlord's point of view. She's elderly and lives alone . According to her, she depends greatly on our rent checks every month to get by, and even then it's just barely. Whether that's true, I have no way of knowing, but from my experience with her, it would seem to be.
For where we live, our rent is considerably low, a fact all of us appreciate. If she was inclined, she could raise the rent substantially. She hasn't and says she wont. For that reason we've been patient with her about things in our house not getting fixed promptly . So, yes, the current situation requires urgency, but I don't believe it necessitates strong arm tactics. And I'm afraid, especially where Rich is concerned, that is the approach that will be put forth.
I spoke to him a little bit about my concerns and I could tell he didn't like what I was saying. All I told him was that I wanted to give her a chance, now that she was enlightened about the gas bill and the rapidly-declining boiler, to do something about it. I completely understand his anger and frustration---I feel it, too; just not as intensely.
Our landlord is probably going to need to buy a new boiler and they are not cheap. If she doesn't have the money to pay for it, she's going to have to figure something out. I'm willing to work with her on that, and I think the guys are too, as long as progress is being made. If I had the sense that she didn't give a shit about what was going on I would be more in Rich's camp, but I don't. Hopefully, things will work out to every one's satisfaction. If not, I see trouble on the wind.
--
Ok, I've got to get back shopping for Suri Cruise pictures online. And I'm crossing my fingers that Amazon will have a signed copy of her biography, which I'm absolutely dying to read!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
My seat over the wing, I'm the happiest hot potato on the plane
I worked late today and now I don't feel like doing much of anything. Maybe I'll get my second wind and I'll rage through the night like a sailor on shore leave. I doubt that will happen, if only because I don't have enough cake to pay for a hooker. That's what sailors do on shore leave, right? They also gamble, get piss drunk, and fight, too. Yeah, that's right---I'm well versed in the social pursuits of sea faring men. I also know a shitload about the French Foreign Legion, in case you're interested.
--
I'm determined to begin meditating again on a daily basis. I've gone too long without practicing it and I think it's more essential now than ever before that I have it in my life. It's time to venture back to the void. It's either that or I start body building. Yeah, dude, I'm gonna get huge!
--
Was talking to my dad about The Office yesterday and he was telling me about how he's been missing the repeats on cable. I told him not to worry because he can watch the dvds at his leisure. The ones I bought him. Oh, yeah, he said, I have the cd's (he's not ready yet to introduce the word dvd into his vocabulary). I don't think he'll watch them, though. I get the sense that he thinks putting the disc into the player and pressing play will be a lengthy, involved process and thus not worth the effort.
--
Looks like I'll be playing a show with Leesa in June. I think Foley may be playing, too, but I'm not sure. Hopefully, a date will be set soon. I'm dying to showcase my new rapping ability. No more whiny singing for me, bitches.
--
I've been trying to decide who, if forced to, I'd rather fight: a child, a person in a wheel chair, or a frail, old man. Now I'm no Carmine Ragusa, but there's no way I'm losing to any one of them. The question is who would I feel less lousy about beating to a pulp? Well, I'm going to rule out the frail, old man, because most likely I'll kill him if we fight, and there's no way I'm going back to the can. I wouldn't feel so bad about beating up the guy in the wheelchair, but I'm going to rule him out, too, because he'll have a lot of rage built up from not being able to walk and will probably spaz on me. No thanks. So, the child it is. I'm fine with that. Kids are usually deserving of a beating for one reason or another and since they're young, will heal quickly. Now I just have to find a kid to pick a fight with.
--
I'm determined to begin meditating again on a daily basis. I've gone too long without practicing it and I think it's more essential now than ever before that I have it in my life. It's time to venture back to the void. It's either that or I start body building. Yeah, dude, I'm gonna get huge!
--
Was talking to my dad about The Office yesterday and he was telling me about how he's been missing the repeats on cable. I told him not to worry because he can watch the dvds at his leisure. The ones I bought him. Oh, yeah, he said, I have the cd's (he's not ready yet to introduce the word dvd into his vocabulary). I don't think he'll watch them, though. I get the sense that he thinks putting the disc into the player and pressing play will be a lengthy, involved process and thus not worth the effort.
--
Looks like I'll be playing a show with Leesa in June. I think Foley may be playing, too, but I'm not sure. Hopefully, a date will be set soon. I'm dying to showcase my new rapping ability. No more whiny singing for me, bitches.
--
I've been trying to decide who, if forced to, I'd rather fight: a child, a person in a wheel chair, or a frail, old man. Now I'm no Carmine Ragusa, but there's no way I'm losing to any one of them. The question is who would I feel less lousy about beating to a pulp? Well, I'm going to rule out the frail, old man, because most likely I'll kill him if we fight, and there's no way I'm going back to the can. I wouldn't feel so bad about beating up the guy in the wheelchair, but I'm going to rule him out, too, because he'll have a lot of rage built up from not being able to walk and will probably spaz on me. No thanks. So, the child it is. I'm fine with that. Kids are usually deserving of a beating for one reason or another and since they're young, will heal quickly. Now I just have to find a kid to pick a fight with.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Here I lay waiting for the bubbles to settle, I'm going down low where your sleep meets your mental
Last night I had one of my flying dreams, but this time I wasn't freaked out by flying. It began with Luke Warm, a couple of other friends, and me on a plane headed to Florida. I thought to myself I should be anxious about flying but I had a great time. Everyone was mingling and laughing and I was excited to see Florida again.
At some point I fell asleep and when I awoke, the plane was landing. I looked out the window and saw that it was snowing and that we were back in Boston. I looked around and discovered most of the people who had been on the plane before my nap were gone. I asked the flight attendant what was happening and she told me I didn't get off the plane in time when it landed in Florida and consequently, I ended up on the return trip back to Logan. I spent the rest of the dream trying to buy a ticket back to Florida and wondering why none of my friends woke me up when we landed in Florida. One of these days, I'm going to have things work out for me in my dreams.
--
I had a feeling today was going to be a difficult one and it was. We lost power for a few hours in the morning which put us behind schedule and I spent what seemed like hours trying to order parts for Bill. I had to wade through a turbulent sea of menu options at every place I called and the few times I was able to get an actual human on the phone, I received nothing in the way of help. There were a ton of other little things that added to the difficult day, but I'll spare us all the details.
A highlight of the day was when I rented some stuff to the father of one the best friends of my youth. The last time I saw him I was a freshman in high school. He filled me in on what my old friend was doing and it was strange hearing him described as an adult. As far as I'm concerned, he's forever etched in my memory as a fourteen year old boy.
--
I've been watching season two of the Office (US) on dvd and I'm always impressed at how well the show was put together. So much of the humor is subtle and true to life. Amanda had it right, though, when she opined that the current season isn't as good as the previous ones. At first I didn't see it, but it's now pretty clear to me that, while the show is still really good, it's become exaggerated in almost every facet. The humor is broader, bordering on slapstick in some instances, and the show suffers for it.
--
Ok, it's been a long day and I'm effing beat. I'm going to do my best to relax tonight and hopefully tomorrow will be a fun and sexy day. Hey, it could happen, you know.
At some point I fell asleep and when I awoke, the plane was landing. I looked out the window and saw that it was snowing and that we were back in Boston. I looked around and discovered most of the people who had been on the plane before my nap were gone. I asked the flight attendant what was happening and she told me I didn't get off the plane in time when it landed in Florida and consequently, I ended up on the return trip back to Logan. I spent the rest of the dream trying to buy a ticket back to Florida and wondering why none of my friends woke me up when we landed in Florida. One of these days, I'm going to have things work out for me in my dreams.
--
I had a feeling today was going to be a difficult one and it was. We lost power for a few hours in the morning which put us behind schedule and I spent what seemed like hours trying to order parts for Bill. I had to wade through a turbulent sea of menu options at every place I called and the few times I was able to get an actual human on the phone, I received nothing in the way of help. There were a ton of other little things that added to the difficult day, but I'll spare us all the details.
A highlight of the day was when I rented some stuff to the father of one the best friends of my youth. The last time I saw him I was a freshman in high school. He filled me in on what my old friend was doing and it was strange hearing him described as an adult. As far as I'm concerned, he's forever etched in my memory as a fourteen year old boy.
--
I've been watching season two of the Office (US) on dvd and I'm always impressed at how well the show was put together. So much of the humor is subtle and true to life. Amanda had it right, though, when she opined that the current season isn't as good as the previous ones. At first I didn't see it, but it's now pretty clear to me that, while the show is still really good, it's become exaggerated in almost every facet. The humor is broader, bordering on slapstick in some instances, and the show suffers for it.
--
Ok, it's been a long day and I'm effing beat. I'm going to do my best to relax tonight and hopefully tomorrow will be a fun and sexy day. Hey, it could happen, you know.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Blue, blue, electrice blue, that's the color of my room
Pretty cool seeing Jesse Ventura risking public ridicule by speaking his mind about 9/11. He has stated for the record that he thinks 9/11 was an inside job and that he regrets not coming to his senses about it while he was still Governor, when he was in a better position to have done something about it. Not surprising that the major media hasn't covered this story. If you're interested in hearing more of what he had to say, check out his interview with Alex Jones. You can listen to it on 9/11 blogger.com. This guy is a brave bastard and a true patriot.
--
When I came back to work after lunch today, Kim told me Gio had quit. What was it this time, I asked myself. Kim told me he had been arguing with his girlfriend all day and was about to blow his stack, so he quit. I wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of having to do the rest of the day's deliveries by myself and hoped Gio would change his mind and come back.
About an hour later he did. He had a gauze bandage on the side of his neck and I knew it was from taking a knife to it. This wasn't the first time he'd done that. I asked him if was alright and he said he wasn't. I asked him how bad his neck was and he said it was a pretty deep cut. He said he had to show his girlfriend that he was serious.
I didn't probe him any further. Throughout the rest of the day, he seemed to be in a much better mood than he was earlier in the day. The bandage, though, told the story of someone who is suffering. Karen has offered more than once to pay for counseling, but he's refused her help. Hopefully, he'll reconsider.
--
It may not seem so, but I had a good day today. It was warm and sunny, work went pretty smoothly, I hit a lot of green lights on the road, and had a tasty sushi dinner. And I recalled something funny she had said to me one summer night in Davis Square that made me laugh harder than I had in a long time. All in all, not a bad day.
--
When I came back to work after lunch today, Kim told me Gio had quit. What was it this time, I asked myself. Kim told me he had been arguing with his girlfriend all day and was about to blow his stack, so he quit. I wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of having to do the rest of the day's deliveries by myself and hoped Gio would change his mind and come back.
About an hour later he did. He had a gauze bandage on the side of his neck and I knew it was from taking a knife to it. This wasn't the first time he'd done that. I asked him if was alright and he said he wasn't. I asked him how bad his neck was and he said it was a pretty deep cut. He said he had to show his girlfriend that he was serious.
I didn't probe him any further. Throughout the rest of the day, he seemed to be in a much better mood than he was earlier in the day. The bandage, though, told the story of someone who is suffering. Karen has offered more than once to pay for counseling, but he's refused her help. Hopefully, he'll reconsider.
--
It may not seem so, but I had a good day today. It was warm and sunny, work went pretty smoothly, I hit a lot of green lights on the road, and had a tasty sushi dinner. And I recalled something funny she had said to me one summer night in Davis Square that made me laugh harder than I had in a long time. All in all, not a bad day.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Just another diamond day
I just typed a bunch of stuff about my job, none of it really negative, and promptly deleted it . I'm leery of taking the job home with me. Of course, all the writing I'd done was accomplished at work, but never mind that. The point is, I don't feel like writing about work right now. Why can't you understand that?
--While eating lunch with my family the other day, my father explained to us the method in which he would like to die. It seems, that much like a wild animal, when the time comes for him to leave this mortal coil, he plans on venturing off into the woods by himself and die. He even has a spot picked out.
"I can't bring any of that stuff because the idea is for me to die out there, not survive", he replied.
"Well, you're going to have to time this out perfectly, then", I said. "If you don't give yourself enough of it, you'll die before you make it to your spot, provided you're even able to begin the trip. And if you are able to make it to your spot, it could be some time before you expire."
"Isn't the point, though, to die as a result of whatever brought you out there in the first place and not as a consequence of being out there?", I asked. "I mean, if the elements get you because of your unpreparedness, then that's suicide. And I'm told the man upstairs doesn't like suicide very much."
The rest of the table joined the discussion and we tossed around the pros and cons of my father's plan. I'm all for the plan; I'm thinking of following suit when the time comes. But how will I know? I guess, as with my father and assorted wildlife, I just will.
--
Is it possible to go wrong listening to Neu? No, but it's possible, probable even, to enjoy the fuck out of the experience. I suggest you commence to listening to some Neu like I am right now. They're almost as good as Fallout Boy.
--
I've been nursing an aloe plant, the only plant I've had in the last ten years, but it looks like it's ready to call it a day. It's so tiny and frail (that's what she said) and I am going to give it my all attempting to restore it to health. I'm feel strongly that I will.
Speaking of dogs, I miss having one. They're not called man's best friend for nothing. My goal is to adopt one in the next two years. I'm thinking of naming it Man's Best Friend.
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