Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Oh baby, I feel so down, and I don't know why

I shouldn't have bothered going to work today. My commute there wasn't ill-effected by the snow, save for some rough patches in Andover, but, knowing it was going to get worse as the day progressed, I wondered why, especially considering we were going to have a short day anyway because of New Year's Eve, they had us come in at all.

I was there a couple of hours when Jeff announced that anyone who wanted to leave, could. I wanted to leave, but I also figured I should get some work done in order to justify coming in. About fifteen minutes later, Jeff announced that he had changed his mind and that in the interest of our safety, he was ordering us to leave.

It took me close to two hours to get home. If I get in an accident for two hours work, I'm going to be pissed, I thought. I made it home without incident, though there were a few close calls with idiot drivers, and immediately broke out the yoga mat and released myself of whatever tension I had built up on the ride home.

I took a nap in the afternoon and called Mara upon waking. We're going to get together at some point to celebrate New Year's. We're invited to a party at Aleister and Jane's but Mara may go it solo for a couple of hours and meet up with me later. It's not that I don't want to go, it's just that I don't really want to go. Ya dig? I'm not even going to make an attempt at clarification.

Sometimes you just need to be alone for awhile.

Alright, let's finish up these awards since the year is just about up.

Hoax I Never Would Have Believed If Not For A So-Called Reliable Source Signing Off On It Award

The Georgia Bigfoot hoax over the summer. These two yokels claimed to have a body and got Tom Biscardi, snake oil salesman du jour, involved and created a circus. I didn't believe it, but tried to reserve judgement until the day the body was shown to the public. Then Loren Coleman, King Crypto extraordinaire, comes along and posts on his website that he's seen pictures of the body and says it looks to be the real deal. Loren Coleman is well-respected, intelligent, thoughtful, and not easily fooled. So, of course, when he wrote that I got all giddy. Later, when it was revealed to be a hoax, Coleman back-pedaled, but not successfully, in my opinion. I felt betrayed. Oh, well, I still love you, Loren.

Greatest Turn Around Award

The Bruins and Celtics. Luke Warm and I had stuck by a truly awful Celtics team only to witness the acquisition of KG and a subsequent championship last season. And the Bruins? Well, I used to love them like Craig loves Milanos but, just like what happened with Craig and those cookies, I was betrayed. I think the final nail in the coffin was the Joe Thornton trade. I stopped watching after that. I still followed them afar, though, hoping in my heart they would make some sweeping changes and beckon me back into their loving embrace. Last year's playoffs was a good start. It was a good series and I watched every game. And this year? Well, they're playing out of their minds, as are the Celtics, and look like they might go deep in the playoffs. Hell, people are predicting they win it all. Of course, in this town, with these two teams absolutely dominating, sports radio basically ignores them and focuses on more important matters, like whether Manny might decide to buy a new pair of shoes in the next year or two. Yes, baseball reigns supreme, no matter what time of year and no matter what the other teams are up to. Ugghhhhh.

Film I Loved And Tried To Get Everyone To Watch Award

The Fall. Looovvveeed it!

Camping Trip That Went Well Despite A Bunch Of Whiny Bitches Bailing Out Award

Vermont in October with Luke Warm. Sure, it took me over three hours to get to his house the day of the trip, but the weather was fantastic, the food we made was tasty, the altered state of consciousness we settled warmly into at night was also tasty, and the hike we took the next day was picturesque and wholly gratifying. And, no, there were no Broke Back Mountain moments. That was just an awful rumor.

Best Passive/Aggresive Display Involving Handwritten Notes Award

Goes to Rich. A few weeks ago, Craig asked me if I had defaced the note Rich had left on the door in the foyer that leads to the porch. I had noticed the note before. It read: "Please keep this door shut tight" and there was a little smiley face at the bottom. It was a little irritating seeing it up, mostly because the door is pretty much always shut anyway, only because of it's construction, it's not easy to shut it tight, as Rich requested it be.

I told Craig I hadn't done anything to the note and went downstairs to inspect it. The note was most definitely defaced, but not by someone else, as I expected it would be, but in all probability by Rich himself. The request, which, let's face it, was a demand, to keep the door shut tightly, had key words like "shut" and "tightly" underlined several times in what looked to be a violent fashion. And the smiley face that had let the reader know that "Hey, even though I'm exerting my will on you, I'm being a nice guy about it", now had a frown, with angry, arched eyebrows drawn over it. I guess people weren't doing a good enough job keeping the door tightly shut.

I tore the note down. It was a ridiculous display and I felt it innapropriate for Rich to be putting up notes -- any notes -- in an area outside our apartment. When I checked the door the next morning, I saw that there was a new note up. This one read: "Mail Man, keep door shut tight!" Great, get the Mail Man all pissed at us so he'll fuck with our mail. I took that note down, too.

There were no notes forthcoming.

A few days later, I saw that Craig's name was scratched out on the door (our names are listed on a small piece of paper). I figured Craig had done it himself because he was moving out in the next few days. He told me he didn't do it. Rich said it wasn't him. Me? I'm convinced it was Rich. Who else would do that? I think he thought Craig was the one who took down the notes and retaliated.

It hasn't slipped my mind, by the way, that I was acting equally passive/aggressive by tearing down the notes and not confronting Rich directly. Yeah, but in my defense, that dude has a lot going on internally and doesn't take criticism very well (wow, we're like twin souls!). So, in the interest of keeping the peace, I acted accordingly.

Alright, I'm all tapped out. I'm sure I missed some big, important awards, but what are you going to do. See you next year, bitches.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Me body run down, me feeling weak, the more I try to climb up this mountain peak

I had a post started that detailed my inner struggles of late, but I just couldn't get far with it. Probably for the better. Truthfully, it would take a few posts to explore just what the hell is wrong with me, and it's not worth the time and effort. At least not in this format. What good would it serve? It's not like any of you are going to come to my rescue, and why should you? These days, it's proper form not to get involved. Or maybe it's only proper form for me, but I digress. So, anyway, I'm not writing that post and I'm happy about it. Let's move on to other things, shall we?

Janelle is just about all moved in. She was by last night with her mom and Zico, dropping off some stuff. Rich hung out for a bit, and I think he's feeling good about Janelle and Zico moving in. He just needed to see what they were about.

Speaking of Rich, for about the last two days at work, during trips to the bathroom or windows of down time, I visualized a meeting between him and his boss. Yeah, I know -- what, the fuck? But, it made me laugh and laughing makes the world go round, no?

The premise of the meeting was Rich being called into the boss's office and being toyed with psychologically for some reason. Now, in this case, his boss is the BIG boss -- I'm talking CEO level -- and Rich, like many of us would be, is a little intimidated. And a little nervous because he thinks this meeting with the boss with a capital B will result in him being layed off. Because the company has warned of potential layoffs recently, his nervousness is not far-fetched.

I'm sure at this point, most of you have abandoned ship, but to those of you who are intrigued by this silly fantasy and are still with me, I applaud your sense of adventure and promise to do my best to entertain.

So, Rich gets called in to the boss's office and his loyalty to the company is immediately questioned.

As you know, Rich, the company is going through a rough period and some people are going to lose their jobs as a result. Unavoidable, I'm afraid.

Rich grows tense. His boss looks him hard in the eyes for several seconds.

It's going to come down to loyalty, Rich. The ones who stay on board are going to be the most loyal, the most dedicated. Tell me, Rich: Where do you see yourself three years from now?

Rich knows he needs to answer this question carefully. If he's honest, he'll tell his boss "anywhere but here", but presently he needs this job, so he can't say that. But if he tells him he hopes to still be with the company, his boss mightl know he's bullshitting and just telling him what he wants to hear. And then he might tell Rich to take a hike. But what if he does say "anywhere but here"? Might his boss appreciate his candor and keep him on board for that very reason? Oh, what a pickle! Not knowing how to answer, Rich takes what he believes is the safer route.

I guess I could see myself here, hopefully in an advanced position.

Good, good. Y'know, the word on you is that you're a rat, but I like your style.

Rich is thrown off by the rat comment. He gets along with everyone and stays out of trouble. Disturbing to hear he's thought of as a rat.

So, tell me, why should I keep you over someone else?

Rich slips into job interview mode and recites from the script he's used at every job interview he's had in the last ten years.

Well, I'm hard-working. I work well with others. Uhh, I've been here a few years. I don't call out that much.

Really? I seem to recall reading in your file -- oh yes, Rich, we keep files on everyone -- that you have this mysterious illness that overtakes you only on weekends and prevents you from coming to work on Mondays. If my memory serves, you were afflicted by this illness over five times in the last year. So five Mondays missed. Is that some crazy virus you've got, or is it just bad timing? Well, bad timing for us; I guess, because you get a long weekend out of the deal, it's good timing for you. Anyway, what does your doctor think it is?

Uhh, well, I mean.... I guess it's just timing more than anything. It hasn't been like one illness; there have been other....

Okay, I get the point. What I need to know is if you're loyal to the company. Are you?

Yes. Totally.

Good, good. I think we can make this work.

Now this is where things get a little strange. After Rich assures his boss that he's a company man, his boss tells Rich the company will be having a Follies in the coming weeks and he wants Rich to take part in it.

So, what do you mean by Follies, sir?

You know, like a variety show, that type of thing. Lots of singing and dancing and stuff. We're going to get all the branches together --- there's going to be thousands of people in attendance --and I've gotta say, I see you all over this.

Well, I've never really done....

I have a couple of roles in mind for you, Rich. The first is Baby New Year. Here's the scene: As the MC is doing his thing, you crawl onto the stage wearing diapers and a top hat and everyone applauds because people go ape shit for Baby New Year! And then you tug on the MC's pant leg. He asks you what you want and you say into the microphone with a big, rosy smile "I want to wish all of you a happy, healthy new year!" What do you think?

Uhh, well, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable...

And the second part you'll be playing will thrill the crowd like you wouldn't believe. Have you ever heard of Little Lord Fauntleroy?

Uhh, no. Who's that?

Here's a picture. I can't believe you've never heard of him.



So, who is he?

He was a famous character from books and films. Anyway, we get you all dressed up like him and you prance around the stage like a petulant child. I might have you deliver a lengthy monologue, too, but we'll talk about that in pre-production.

Ok, I can't go on with this. I'm burnt. You get the idea or you don't. I promise my next post will be normal, or as normal as I can make it.

Monday, December 29, 2008

All the pearls of China fade astride a volta

Had a dream last night that seemed to last hours. I've been thinking about it all day and I've come to the conclusion that it has some significance because A) It lasted a long time. In fact, I woke up at one point to the sound of Steve noisily dragging his trash barrels to the end of his driveway and, not only did I fall right back asleep, but I returned to the dream. B) it was based on a reoccurring dream and C) Most of the people in the dream I hadn't thought about in a long time. That means something, right? Anyway, I won't get into the meat of it because it would take too long . So, more for myself than for you, I'm going to offer up a quick summary for future reference. I know, I should probably keep a dream journal, but I'm afraid some of you might think of me as a New Age softy if I do.

Dream:

---On a plane. Nervous

---Plane as long and wide as a cruise ship.

---Ken's little sister, who I've never met but have seen on MySpace, on the plane and I flirt with her and ask her out. She's pretty interested.

---Plenty of distractions -- my sister, select friends, Dennis Leary, a holodeck like on Star Trek that simulates a small beach at sunset -- that keep my attention away from the fact that we're flying.

---Our destination is Florida.

Okay, that's enough for me to recall the dream by. Now, let's hand out some more awards, bitches.

More Fun Than Surfing For Porn Award

Bigfoot Podcasts. Sure, sometimes the sound is a little herky-jerky, and a few of the hosts are pretty dim, but overall, these shows rule! I just listened to an utterly engrossing interview with Dr. Jeff Meldrum on Crypto Corner the other night. Enough said.

Runner Up: Bill Simmon's Sports Guy column at ESPN.com. He's my hero. He blends sports with pop culture better than anyone. He's a smart, funny man. Oh, and he's from around here, if that means anything to you.

Song That makes Me Want To Go Running Down The Street Shirtless Like a Norse God

The Strokes Vision of Division. It'll get you pumped up, I tells ya. The musicianship is impressive. Love it when bands hone their skills. If you haven't heard the song before, check it out on their MySpace page.

Colonel Sanders Award for Best Fight Over Chicken Bones That Almost Ended In Murder

Goes to Craig. When he told me the story I'm about to share with you, I wanted to hear it again and again. It was pure gold. You may think it's nothing special --you're a fucking idiot if you do -- but for my money, it doesn't get much better than this. Because events transpired a few months ago, I may be off on some of the facts, but I believe I've got most of it down. Craig, if I misrepresent the truth here and there, you're encouraged to correct me in the comments section.

Okay, so one time when Craig was working at the liquor store, a customer came in and commented that there was a man in the parking lot eating chicken wings in his car and discarding the bones on the ground. Craig did not approve. Not one bit. One of the reasons for this was because Craig had a bad experience with chicken bones involving one of his former, sloppy, roommates. I think she left a batch of them in the toaster oven for a period of weeks or months. Anyway, it grossed him out and, ever since, he and chicken bones have not gotten on well.

I'm not sure if that was the impetus that sent Craig out into the parking lot to confront the chicken bone guy (I told you this was gold), but out he went, his ire up. When he approached the guy's car and asked him to cease and desist with the tossing of chicken bones on the ground, the man, who Craig described as appearing to be middle-aged and normal looking, shouted "Those aren't my fucking bones!!"

Oh, my! Frankly, even if nothing happened after that, this story would still rock the party because of that line. I'm betting Craig didn't expect that response. Maybe "I'm sorry, man, I'll clean 'em up", or even "Why don't you go back inside and let me worry 'bout these bones, you nosy little cunt!", but "Those aren't my fucking bones"? Nope, I wouldn't have seen that one coming.

What followed was a bunch of bickering, and I wasn't able to eke out of Craig exact quotes. Let's imagine, then, what might of have been said, while keeping in mind what transpires afterward.

Craig: If they're not your bones, then whose are they?

Chicken bone guy: Get the fuck out of my face, Sally!

Craig: Look, just clean up your mess. You don't have to get into name calling, sir.

Chicken bone guy: Oh, what's the matter, Marybeth? You don't like name calling?

Craig: No, I don't.

Chicken bone guy: Well, either get used to it, you wretched piece of shit, or go the fuck back inside your little gift shop, or whatever the fuck it is.

Craig: Sir, I'm gonna ask you one more time to clean up your trash.

Chicken bone guy: Or what, Jenny? I oughta horsewhip your face for you, you little piece of shit. Get away from me.

Ok, other things were probably said, but I was going after the essence of the dialog and not exact words. So, after they argued a bit, the chicken bone guy started driving away; slowly, though, so he could hurl some more insults at Craig. It's possible he may have called Craig a dirty, cocksucking whore, but that's mere speculation on my part.

At one point during all of this smack-talking, the chicken bone guy got out of his car, opened the trunk, and pulled out a tire iron, or something close in appearance, and threatened Craig's life. Again, I'm iffy on what he said, but let's just assume he yelled "I'll kill ya, ya son of a bitch! I'll rip out your spine, form it into a noose, and hang your slack form from it! I'll chew off your flesh and regurgitate it down your throat! I'll hunt down your family and friends and conduct mental and physical atrocities on them that would make Baphomet himself shudder in fear! You picked the wrong guy to fuck with, Shortcake!" (I'm assuming he was a big fan of Happy Days)

Realizing his life was in jeopardy over chicken bones, Craig went back in the store and called the police. Can't remember if the cops came by or not, but who cares? You get the gist of it. If you see Craig, have him tell you the story. I just love the fact that Craig had an aversion to chicken bones and it almost got him killed. Well, I don't love the fact about him almost getting killed, but you know what I mean.

Alright, bitches. Seacrest out!

Saturday, December 27, 2008

I just wasn't made for these times

Christmas is but a memory, and I'm relieved. In another life, I would lament it's passing for a few days, wishing the holiday hadn't gone by so quickly. Things change, and because they do, next year I may return to my old form and want to hold Christmas in my arms forever, to loosely borrow from a song I can't remember the name of. All in all, it was a pretty good day. Before I dive into the events that transpired, let's give Christmas eve it's due.

When I showed up to work on Wednesday, there were a bunch of wrapped gifts on my desk. I quickly went about opening them. Jeff, and his wife, Chris, gave us all a nice bonus, a beautiful gold bowl, ala Pier 1 Imports, some Godiva chocolates, and a tin of assorted candies. Marcy gave out Dunkin Donuts gift cards. It was the most I've ever been given at any job. I felt appreciated.

We got out around 12:30 and I took advantage of the early release to pick up a few more things. One of those things was a gift, nay, two gifts to myself: The Dark Knight on dvd and Guns n' Roses Appetite For Destruction, an album I used to love but never got around to getting on cd. The other stuff was wrapping paper and a gift for my grandmother. Traffic was outrageous and I barely managed to maintain my sanity, which was already in question.

Later in the day, I got a call from Janelle. Her car had overheated on her way down to our place. She made it to a gas station on Mystic Ave and when I arrived, she decided to chance driving it back to the house. Fortunately, she made it and took the whole thing in stride.

That night, in the spirit of Christmas, I sat in bed and watched Herzog's Cobra Verde. I fell asleep at some point and when I awoke it was after midnight and the image on the TV was distorted beyond recognition. I wondered if that was it for the ol' boy. I got up and tried to turn it off. It wouldn't. Somehow, through a series of arbitrary maneuvers involving the dvd player and the TV, which I won't bother trying to explain,I managed to turn it off. I couldn't get it to turn back on. Well, I thought, that's it for the ol' boy. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. I went back to sleep.

At my parent's on Christmas morning, I suffered an odd sort of break down. Maybe it wasn't odd at all -- maybe, it was quite natural and healthy, even -- but if felt odd, nonetheless. I've questioned whether I should share this with you, whether it's one of those facets of my life that, to save me some embarrassment, should remain private. Though I do share quite a bit of myself in these virtual pages, there is much I don't reveal. But, I feel comfortable enough with myself that I won't be reduced in any way by people reading this, even if the majority of them think I'm a little Nancy boy as a result.

So there I was, sitting in my parent's living room watching everyone open their gifts when a terrific sadness overcame me all of a sudden. I was able to suppress it enough so that my features did not betray what was happening internally, but it wasn't easy. The sadness subsided and I took a deep breath.

I'd been feeling a little overwhelmed in some areas of my life for a while leading up to Christmas, so it wasn't shocking to me that I had that surge of emotion. The fact that it was happening in a room full of people, though, was out of the ordinary. Some time passed until I was struck by another wave of sadness. I say sadness, but it was a little more complex than that. Anyway, this time I had to remove myself from the room because I felt like I was going to start crying. That would have been uncomfortable, to say the least, for everyone to witness.

I grabbed the gifts I had opened and used them as a pretext for going out to my car. As I put the presents in my car, I started weeping. I laughed at myself between sobs and marveled at the fact that I didn't really know why this was happening.

I managed to compose myself and headed back into the house. As I made my way up the porch stairs, I saw the curtain close in the dining room window. It was my mother and she was concerned. When I entered the house, she pulled me into the dining room and asked me if I was ok. Apparently, I wasn't, because I broke down in a fit of sobbing. She led me upstairs to her room and we sat on her bed. She rubbed my back and kept asking me what was bothering me. When it became evident that I was having trouble speaking, she told me to take my time and to explain what was happening when I felt ready.

I felt like a child again, safe in my mother's arms. You can't go home again, but sometimes you can visit. Do we ever lose the bond between mother and son? I calmed down and we talked about what was bothering me, despite the fact that I wasn't so sure.

When we went back downstairs and joined the family, I felt much better and went about my business almost as if the episode never occurred. If anyone was privy to what happened, they didn't let on. Periodically, throughout the rest of the day, my mother would quietly ask me if I was ok, and every time I told her I was because, well, I was.

We went to my grandmother's house in the afternoon. It felt good having my family around. My niece Colleen used my grandmother's cane as a microphone and sang "Goodnight, Irene" for everyone and then we opened our gifts. When that was through, we watched the Celtics/ Lakers game. It was refreshing watching something other than football at holiday event.

I went for a run when I came home. The streets were deserted and the weather was warm. As I ran, I thought about the day's events and determined that I probably needed that weep-athon, the poor timing notwithstanding. So, I'm a little crybaby, I guess, but don't worry, I'm still drawn to grown up activities like violence and deceit.
--
I went over to Mara's on Friday night. We watched some Alan Partridge and were about to watch the documentary Paradise Lost, but switched to Fantasy Island. That was her call, but I went along with it for the sake of nostalgia.

Yesterday, I was determined to get a TV and I did. I trolled through Craig'slist all morning and found a couple of TVs that looked appealing. I sent out some feelers and the first guy who called me back was the one who had the set I was most interested in. It was a 27" Toshiba and the price was good. I called him and we decided to meet at a Mcdonalds off 93.

I took Spira along for the ride and before two o'clock, I had a new, bigger than I realized, television set. Before dropping Spira off, we went to Starbucks and chatted over some lattes. Alley, someone we hadn't seen in a long while, came in at one point and we had a nice, if brief, reunion.

I dropped Spira off and headed back to the house to meet Janelle and Rachael. They were dropping off a mattress. When they arrived, we managed to get its queen-sized bulk up our narrow staircase and into her room. The box spring, however, wasn't so lucky. Afterward, we stood around in the kitchen for a spell and had a nice, intelligent, discussion about politics. Refreshing.

This has been a long post. I hope your eyes aren't sore. Or did you just skim? Yeah, you skimmed. That's ok, I do it myself with your blog.

I'm off to do some relaxin'.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Oh, baby think what you're doing, my love for you is gonna drive you to ruin

Going to spit this out real quick like because I'm effing tired and need to be engaged in some kind of passive activity. So let's give out some awards.


Most Listened To Award

Vashti Bunyan's Just Another Diamond Day. I listened to it in the shower, in my room, during sunny walks in the city, before bed, upon waking, during sex, when I was happy, when I was blue, in Maine, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts. It's probably one of the gentlest, prettiest, and purest records I've ever heard. Great, lovely songs. When I listen to her, I am taken away to an innocent, almost fairy-tale-ish existence and long to remain there.

Worst December 23rd of 2008 Award

Yeah, today was lame. I was a half hour late due to a shit load of traffic caused by an iddy biddy fender bender in Medford. I found out that Ann is probably going to quit next week. I did the bulk of my Christmas shopping (there are reasons for this other than procrastination, just so you know) and it was a tiring affair, to say the least. I think there's more, but whatever, I'm ready to move on.

Yup, it's official: You No Longer Have The Christmas Spirit Award

That one goes to yours truly, but I'm giving it back. I'm not ready to give up on Christmas, my friends. Sure, it's a pain in the ass, but that's not Christmas's fault. We're the ones who have made it into the monster it has become. Even though I have better holiday seasons in mind for the future, I"m making the best of this one. Not everything about it has been lousy. Even amid all the ka ka, today had it's positives.

1. Therese gave me some home made jam as a Christmas gift. Very nice of her.

2. Had a good, challenging run after work. I needed it, despite the fact that conditions were hairy at times. Running in the ice, slush, and snow is not easy, but it is has its rewards. You're forced to watch every step and often you have to be creative, like in rock climbing, in how you choose them. The only time I slipped was when I entered the house after the run.

3. Got to see Janelle when she stopped by to drop off some boxes. Oh, and almost the first words out of Rich's mouth were heat and plastic. I heard him from upstairs and rushed down as fast as I could before he got all worked up. Despite his misery over the hardships of winter, I think it's his favorite season because I believe that in his head he thinks This is the time of year I really get to shine. I'm like a fucking surgeon when I cover the windows with plastic. With a hair dryer in one hand and a piece of plastic in the other, I'm a God among men. I work miracles on windows and if it were up to me, this whole apartment -- windows, doors, walls, ceilings -- would be covered in plastic. When I leave this earth, probably due to lack of plastic, I want my headstone to read "He never met a window he couldn't seal with plastic".

4. I was in line at CVS and a register opened up to the left of me. I made eye contact with the cashier as he said "next in line". He waved me over, and as I approached the counter, the guy who was in front of me in the previous line said "I believe I was the next in line" rather loudly in a voice that sounded like Rosie Perez, only gayer. I apologized for being too quick on the draw and switched places with him. I discovered that the guy was better off staying in the first line because the person in front of him had just finished paying. So, when I cashed out before he did, I shot him a little smirk that said "Ok, so I really wasn't the next in line and took your spot, but you were a little too loud and bitchy about it and look where it got you, you god damned son of a bitch."

Monday, December 22, 2008

Just as soon as my pocket book was empty, not a friend on Earth to be found

My ride to work was a difficult one. Because I didn't have access to my wiper fluid, I had to hang my arm out the window and splash bottled water on the windshield. The method had worked ok late last week, when I first started employing it, but today it most definitely did not. I wasn't on 93 more than two minutes before my windshield was a salty, murky, mess. I did the water trick, but that only made it worse. The water froze instantly and my wipers, probably due to ice build-up at their base, weren't making enough contact with the windshield, which meant, in a nut shell, my visibility was for shit.

I made it to work without totaling my car and determined early on in the day that I had to take it to Sam's garage a little ways up the street. There was no way, if the roads were as salty as they were in the morning, that my commute home was going to go very well. So, I brought the car to Sam's and, yada, yada, yada, I'm out seventy smackers.

Earlier this evening, I took Spira to CVS so she could get some supplies. Her car's snowed in and she's been sick, so I was happy to oblige. On the way to the store, I tried several times to start a conversation, but each time Spira interrupted me. I asked her to try not to interrupt me whenever I speak --- she does it all the time --- and she said she'd try, but that it would be difficult because she has attention issues.

We'd discussed her interrupting me before, but nothing really changed. Mara interrupts me as much or even more than Spira. I understand that perhaps they don't mean to do it, but it seems they only do it with me, and not only is it irritating, it's disrespectful. I know I'm not the most riveting of people, but I like being afforded the ability to speak without being completely disregarded.

To illustrate what I'm getting at, here's a taste of Spira interrupting me in the car tonight.

Me: You know, I was listening to the radio this morning and they were talking about...

Spira: Hey, pull up a bit, I want to see how bad my car's snowed in.

Me: ...teachers not wanting to work...

Spira: Oh, wow, it really is snowed in.

Me: ....the week of Christmas. So maybe....

Spira: I wonder if they'll have my prescription ready.

That's about when I gave up trying to speak. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut with certain people. Less frustrating.

I finished McMurtry's Dead Man's Walk last night. What a great book! I'm going to dive right into Comanche Moon later on. And when I'm done with that, I will feel lousy about reaching the end of Gus and Call's epic story. How will I fill the void?
--

Ok, I'm out of here. I still have more awards to give out, but it's not going to happen tonight, I'm afraid. Yeah, I can tell you're devastated.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Oh these days seem so cruel, but honey child what can I do?

Overall, a shitty weekend. The weather was obviously a factor, but there were other little things that gnawed at me enough to prevent me from enjoying myself on any meaningful level. Here are the highlights of today.

-- Woke up to the sound of Steve's snow blower RIGHT THE FUCK BELOW MY WINDOW. Better than a rooster you are, Steve. (He has been stripped of the moniker Nice Guy Steve. I tried, but considering it's quarter past six and he's still running that beast, he's lucky I don't scalp and castrate him like I was a goddamned Apache.

--Ate a small breakfast of oatmeal and juice and got dressed in preparation for the walk over to Mara's in the driving snow.

--Met Rich in the living room as I was putting my coat on. I'd only seen him for about thirty seconds in the last week and a half and, despite the fact that there were a few things I wanted to discuss with him, I was already late and had to cut the conversation short.

Maybe it's because I don't have a filter between him and me now that Craig's gone, but his antics have been bothering me more than usual. I won't go into the details -- that would require a post of it's own -- but the only thing that makes me feel better about the situation is that Janelle will soon be moving in and I suspect on most fronts we'll be joined in solidarity, so if Rich wants to assert himself in ways we don't find favorable, he's right the fuck out the door.

(After I posted this, I met Rich in the kitchen and we had a nice little parley. We're more or less on the same page about things. I'm happy about that.)

-- My walk to Mara's was a little like the one I made on Friday night, except this time I walked against the wind and was assaulted with horizontal snow for the entire trip. When I got to her place, everyone was situated in her living room, which is pretty tiny. I poked my head in and everyone gave me a quick appraising glance before returning to their conversations. No introductions; nothing. I joined Mara, who was pacing around the kitchen like a line cook on a Saturday night, and tried to make myself useful.

Her friends, Ed and Elaina, whom I'd met when Mara and I were a couple, showed up a little after I did. I'm pretty sure they don't like me. I decided fairly early on in the brunch that the only person worth talking to, besides Mara, was her friend Stephanie. Everyone else avoided me like the plague. Maybe it was because I was the only non-Jew in the room. I'm kidding, but y'know, it was kind of odd to be so.... shunned.

The friends of Mara I get along with -- Joel, Aleister, Sara, and Dave-- didn't show up. I regretted making the trek over. I soon got my stuff together and got the hell out of there. I'm a pretty social person, but this was a tough crowd. I should have wished them a merry Christmas as I left. That woulda showed 'em.

-- Our cable company, RCN, has made the switch to digital and, despite the fact that the TVs in our house are not analog, we lost our feed. A message appears when you turn a TV on that says we need to have a cable box installed. I guess the fact that we ALREADY HAVE ONE INSTALLED doesn't make much of a difference to them.

--Speaking of TVs, the one in my room is starting to go. Seems like a lot of things in my life are starting to go. Least I still have my health.

I managed to watch A Praire Home Companion this weekend. It was good, but I thought I was going to enjoy it more. Maybe if I watch it another time I will. I plan on watching I'm Not There , the unique film about Dylan, sometime tonight. Or I may just watch some Herzog, instead.

Ok, I'm going to go eat some dinner. Cheers.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Sometimes the wind blows through the trees, and I think I hear you calling me, but all I see is snow, everywhere I go

They let out us out early yesterday due to the approaching storm. I was all too happy to get on the road before it hit; horrible remembrances of last years storm, the one that hit hard and fast in it's brutality, had filled the office all week. I did not want to get stuck on 93 with my wiper fluid hose ripped apart and brakes that have of late been squealing their need to be replaced. Even though I paid a garage to replace my brakes just last year, apparently they weren't very good ones. Ah, the timing could have been better, but I'll carry on -- hopefully -- through Christmas when I'll have money to get the work done.

I did some yoga when I got home and then took a nap. I had gone into work earlier than usual knowing the day would be abbreviated and was a little tired when I got home. Later, I bundled up and walked over to Mara's to help her put up some shelves in her closet. It was an interesting journey. At times, visibility was so poor I had to stop and get a handle on exactly where I was. Walking along, I felt peaceful and lonely at various intervals. The walk was a little over a mile and, though I tried living in the moment, I couldn't help but imagine walking these same streets in the honeyed lushness of summer.

Some time last week, Ann and I were discussing our mutual distaste for winter. "Well, we're summer babies, so it's only natural we don't like it.", she said at one point. I thought about it for a bit. Is it possible that the two of us, and anyone else in born in the summer, are predisposed to like it's counter opposite, winter, less than those born in that season? I just figured everyone hated winter, whether they were born in January or July, but when Marcy confessed to me how much she loved winter and that it was probably due to the fact that she was born in a blizzard, I began to wonder if Ann was on to something.

I arrived safely at Mara's and put up her shelves. She's hosting a brunch for her Jew Group, as she calls it, on Sunday and was worried that she wasn't going to have her place put together in time. She's got her work cut out for her: she's only halfway finished painting the place and still has to do some cooking. I will be attending the event and will be the only gentile in attendance. I hope they have mercy on me.

My walk home was a little more taxing. More snow had accumulated and, consequently, walking through it took more energy. Passing Shaws on Elm St, I saw a girl swaying across the street towards me, texting away on her cell phone. It looked like she was on the deck of a ship traveling through choppy waters. Must have come from one of the bars, I thought. I debated whether to help her safely across the street, but she was already across before I made my decision.

I was tired when I got home and fell asleep watching Rescue Dawn with Herzog's commentary. I woke up this morning heavy with the memory of bizarre dreams. So bizarre, I thought I must have been sick, but it soon became evident that I was as hale as ever.

After breakfast and coffee, I went outside to shovel. The end of my driveway was a mountainous region of jagged peaks waist high and I quickly discovered that it was going to take me awhile to clear it. My neighbor Steve saved the day, though, and came by with his snow blower, making my life much, much easier. He cleared my driveway in a matter of minutes. I was grateful.

I yelled out a thank you as he made his way to another driveway. He was out all day helping people out. His kind gesture erased all the bad feelings I had towards him for all his noisy antics outside my window in days past. He was now Nice Guy Steve, friend to all. Of course, hours later, when I was trying to relax and he still had the damn blower going full throttle outside my window, some of the old feelings resurfaced. He loves that snowblower. I think he wants to marry it.

More snow is on the way. They're even hinting that Christmas eve could see more snow. Winter has just begun and we're being assaulted with a Shock N' Awe campaign. I wonder how many more winters I can take.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Now I'm staying there for just a while, I can't think because I'm just way too tired

I mentally document "firsts" with Ann. It's like a little buzzer goes off in my brain when it occurs. Like, the first time she initiated a conversation, I said to myself "Hey, whaddya know, Ann approached me first". And the first time she laughed at one of my jokes, I said to myself "Hey, whaddya know, Ann thinks I'm a funny guy. A damn funny guy." Part of the reason I do this is because my job, for all its positives, isn't exactly a carousel of stimulation, and, in order to stay conscious throughout the day, I've got to give my brain something to do. But, the truth is I say that mostly to dampen the simple fact that I like Ann quite a bit and am acting like any fourteen year old with a crush. Do we ever stop getting them? Only if we've soured to life, I say. Anyway, today Ann offered to make me a puffy skirt (don't ask) and that was the first time she ever offered to make me anything. And that felt good.

Man, that was a difficult paragraph to write. I get squirmy sometimes opening up in that way. Oh, well, I did it, so let's move on. Nothing to be embarrassed about.

Two words: Snow and I'm-very-fucking-unhappy-with-everything-about-it. Yes, I heard the forecast for Friday and I'll deal with because I have a pure heart, but I predict I'll be wearing a frown for at least part of the day. Don't fret, I'll be fine for our date.

Too late to issue more awards, so next time around. Peace, lovers.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

May the Lord have mercy on them, for their sad cruelty

It's official: Craig is all moved out. He's back at the Cape with his folks and I wish him luck. He was a good roommate and it's kind of odd not hearing him bustling around in his bedroom. Fortunately for me, Janelle will be moving in soon and Craig will be erased from my memory forever.

My illness never really progressed so I decided to test the waters and go for a run tonight. I feel fine after the fact, but I'm hoping the activity won't make things worse. We'll see.

Ok, I'm getting sleepy, so let's hand out a few more awards.

Best read

Without a doubt, Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove tetralogy. I'm almost finished with Dead Man's Walk and will finish the series with Comanche Moon soon after. Simply and elegantly written, profound, tragic, comical, and often brutal, McMurtry can sure spin a yarn.

Best TV show

The Office. Considering it's pretty much the only TV show I watch, this one's a no-brainer. I suspect that if I watched every show out there, I'd still think The Office was the best.

Favorite Baker

Mara. She sure knows how to bake. I've noticed that a lot of people refer to their baked goods as being their famous this or their famous that. Example: "Oh, you're having a Christmas party? I'll be sure to bring my famous brownies." And usually, they taste pretty much like any brownies out there, which is fine, because I like brownies. Mara's brownies, as well as her other baked goods, should be famous, if they're not already ( I haven't done any investigating into this yet). She brought some over to the house one night and Craig, Rich, and I ate some in the living room while watching a game. They were fucking transcendent! Craig and Rich agreed. Everything from the flavor to the overall texture was exquisitly done. And don't get me started on her banana bread. It is to die for, son!

Favorite Baker (honorable mention)

Janelle. Remember those tasty, artistic, cakes I mentioned in my last post? Well, just thinking about them is making me salivate. Mmmm, me want cake. When Janelle is moved in, I will let her know, firmly, that one of the conditions for living here is that she must --- must, damn it! --- bake something nice for me once a week. And she'll also have to keep the fridge stocked with her tasty sangria at all times.

Why Werner Herzog is the master of cinema and beyond, award

Encounters At The End Of The World. It is brilliant. Herzog is brilliant. Just watch it, alright; there's no way I can do it justice, so I won't even try. I think it's time for me to embark on a Herzog film festival. I'll start with Signs of Life and end with Encounters. Before you tell me to get a life, understand that every time you do that my heart breaks a little more.

"Oh, my God, I'm living with a bunch of animals!" award

When I stepped in Rich's doo-doo. I'm about 99.9 % it was him who left the nug on the floor. He missed the toilet by about a foot and I am just about done reliving that fucking gross experience, thank you very much, so let's continue on.

Best album

Fleet Foxes debut. Lush, triumphant, elegiac, and beautiful. I listen to it all the time.

Best instance of laughing my way out of a developing panic attack

I imagined someone saying all the wrong things while attempting to get me to calm down. Like if someone said to me "Here, chug this can of Red Bull; it's the best thing for you right now", that would be a horrible suggestion, you know? Or if they said "There's no way you're going to live through this one, buddy. You. Are. Fucked", I would question their methods and curse them for making things worse. But thinking about someone saying that type of stuff made me laugh, which made me feel much better. Is that reverse psychology in reverse, or.... whatever -- le'ts move on, I'm tired. Good night.

Monday, December 15, 2008

I want to tell her that I love her a lot, but I've got to get a bellyfull of wine, Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl, some day I'm gonna make her mine.

It was busy at work today, probably because we were shorthanded last Friday. This morning, when I went into the room where Ann works, I was bombarded with every one's account of their post-storm trials. While Ann was telling me hers, Therese butted in to tell me about her mother's recovery from surgery. At that moment, I only wanted to hear from Ann, but I can't blame Therese for being conversational, especially when it concerns the health of her mother. I can, however, blame her for being an interrupting shrew. Oh, calm down, I'm just teasing.

Fatigue was the word of the day. Whatever type of bug I have, it hasn't progressed past a mild sore throat and fatigue. All day, I felt like crawling into bed and sleeping for a thousand years. I wonder if this is all I'm going to get, or if it's the beginning of something bigger. Whatever it is that ails me, I'm not going out running tonight, though it's great weather for it, nor will I be doing any yoga. Nope, it's laying in bed reading reading from McMurtry's Dead Man's Walk, a fantastic read, and watching some Celtics for me.

So, in the interest of reaching that goal, let's get to some awards. If you're not familiar with these awards I speak of, all you need to know is that it's the end of the year and I feel like handing out awards, which, as you'll see, will be arbitrary in nature.

Best beverage award

Poland Springs sparkling water, mandarin orange style. I forget how I got started with it, but it's pretty much all I drink. If you've been in my car or looked in my recycling bin, you'll know what I'm talking about when you see all the empty bottles. It's the perfect storm of a beverage, at least as far as I'm concerned. It's got the carbonated feel, but without all the attendant syrup and sugar that soda provides. And it quenches the thirst better than pretty much any drink. The lime flavor is good, the lemon tastes like Pledge, and the raspberry-lime is a little too cutesy. It's got to be mandarin orange.

Trade of the year award

Nope, not the Chauncey Billups/Allen Iverson deal in the NBA -- I'm talkin' about the Mass/NH blockbuster that sent Luke Warm up north and is about to bring Janelle back to bean town. So who made out it in this deal? Well, I heard Luke Warm and his bff, The Kremlin, did while on a canoeing trip at their secret lake a while back, but that's not what I'm getting at. The winner in this deal is definitely Mass. Sorry NH'ers, but it's true, and I'll give you some solid, irrefutable, reasons why.

1. Janelle has a dog, son! Luke Warm has nothing, and if he did get a pet, he'd get some boring, antisocial house cat. Zico, Janelle's pooch, on the other hand, brings the party with him wherever he goes.

2. Luke Warm hates the movie Adaptation, which is making me angry just thinking about it, and I'm pretty sure Janelle thinks it's a good movie, like most free-thinking, intelligent Americans. So, basically, Janelle has taste and Luke Warm has none.

3. Janelle didn't laugh and laugh over the misfortune of the Katrina victims for as long as Luke Warm did. He just wouldn't stop.

4. Luke Warm doesn't bake tasty, artistic, cakes like Janelle does. All he makes is a mess of every one's good time.

5. Janelle is spiritually inclined and has a deep yearning to uncover life's mysteries. The closest Luke Warm ever got to any of that was when he said "All I want out of this life is to watch TV with a beer in my hand and a barely legal milking my semi-stiff cock dry".

Ok, I'm feeling weak, and not just over Luke Warm's vulgarity, so I'll continue with the awards in a subsequent post.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down

When I came into work on Friday, about half of my coworkers were absent. Through talking with the people who did show up, I realized how severe the overnight freeze had been in large parts of the area. Everyone's power was out and driving was a frozen nightmare. I felt as if I had just arrived from another country. My power never even threatened to go out and the only ice I saw was atop some of the trees while driving through Andover. If I had stayed home, I probably wouldn't have known about any of this. I am not always well-informed.

I was disappointed by the knowledge that Ann was one of the ones who couldn't make it into work-- more than I thought I'd be. I soon got over it, however, and took comfort in the fact that it was Friday and, soon enough, I'd be out carousing like a sailor on shore leave. Without the requisite visit to a whorehouse, mind you.

From all the horror stories I've been hearing, it appears I really dodged a bullet. People everywhere lost power and are still without it. What a shitty way to spend the weekend. Of course, not having power could be viewed as a good thing, you know, with families spending time together and people helping each other out. Mind you, it's easy for me to say that, as I sit in my well-lit room with the heat on.
--
I watched the latest Indiana Jones film yesterday and liked it. It took me a few minutes to adjust to Harrison Ford's voice, which, in spots, sounded, distractingly so, like John Wayne. I was relieved when it became less noticeable further on in the film, because, let's face it, John Wayne is played out.

Tonight, I plan on watching A Prairie Home Companion. I'll let you know if anyone in it sounds like John Wayne.
--
I haven't done any Christmas shopping yet. I am not looking forward to it. Man, I used to love Christmas, but now it's just another day, which sucks. I never thought it would be possible that my Christmas spirit would diminish so greatly and so soon. There are reasons for this: I don't have children of my own and can't see in their eyes the sense of wonderment I used to feel; I am a (so called) adult and spend most of my time with adults, who, for the most part, feel beaten down by the holidays; and I'm not making enough money where I can spend freely on the people in my life. It's going to be challenging, portioning out the money I do have to spend. The good consequence of not having a ton of cash, is I appreciate, more than ever, the true spirit of the holiday, which in my estimation has a lot to do with being with the people who are important to you.
--
Was going to start posting some awards, but I'm not feeling too good, and will put them off another day. I know you're heartbroken, but it is what it is. All day, I've felt a little run down, as if I'm catching a cold. I don't want it, so maybe it will go away. I'm sure Rich wouldn't mind taking it off my hands.

I'll tune in tomorrow, and regale you with a mind-blowing, transcendent, post. I promise.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

This time tomorrow, where will we be?

Went for a nice run with Spira after work. The weather was balmy, especially compared to yesterday, when it felt like the middle of February. We went the Davis Square route we tried a couple of weeks ago, and this time Spira ran the entire distance. She even joined me in a sprint the last five hundred feet or so. I was so proud of her, I gave her a big hug and we exchanged a double high five. That's right: a double high five. We weren't effing around.

For those of you who like music, I've just posted four new songs on MySpace. And for those of you who hate music, then you should not check out my songs, because you'll hate them. And to those of you who like music, but don't how to find me on Myspace, I advise you to type Superstar into the search engine, because that's what I am, son! To Kreg, who pushed the buttons on this project, I owe a debt of gratitude; he put a lot of effort into it. In the end, the songs are bare, a little rough, and honest. Whatever else can be said about them, that much is true.

Ann told me the only thing she wants for Christmas is a snowsuit. "For any particular purpose?", I asked her.

"No, I just think it will be cool to have one", she replied.

That pretty much sums up why I like her.

Okay, I've said my peace. Oh, one more thing. Not that I've ever had much of a hard time with it, but man, I sleep like a baby every night and the bulk of my dreams are pretty damn good. It hasn't mattered whether my waking state is positive or negative. Recently, I've had a couple of dreams about Janelle moving in. Both of them were were highly positive and something tells me they bode well for our future living arrangements. Well, the one I had last night made me chuckle in wonderment went I woke up. I won't even bother attempting to put it into words -- it's pretty damn close to being inexpressable -- but again, Janelle was in it -- oh, let's not forget about Zico, he's in the dreams, too -- and again it seemed to point at a favorable, and perhaps then some, living situation. We'll see, I've never been much of a Shaman, so maybe the dreams are just wishful thinking, but y'know, I don't really think so.

Monday, December 8, 2008

You pass me by and won't come in

The only thing I've found myself able to listen to at night, apart from Rich and Craig's gentle cooing, is Isobel Campbell's Milkwhite Sheets. It's one of the prettiest albums I've heard in a long time, and it's soft textures keep the thoughts in line and the demons at bay.

I'm taking a break from watching Chef Gordon Ramsey perform restaurant make-overs on his show Kitchen Nightmares. I've been watching online and I've seen about twelve episodes in the last forty eight hours. I effing love this show! Maybe it's because I've served my time working in restaurants, but I'm fascinated by it. The memories it conjures recall some dreadful, dreadful times. My last (and final, you can rest assured) job at a restaurant was the worst. Instead of working in the kitchen like I had at previous jobs, I was a server at this one. They threw me into the fire almost immediately, despite my inexperience. We're talking right around Christmas --- insanity! Anyhow, I still have nightmares of being in the weeds on a busy Saturday night. I must get a bit of an adrenalin rush watching Kitchen Nightmares, like fans of horror movies get. Well, whatever it is, this show is my new bff, until you start treating me better.

It seems Ann is warming up to me even more. Ive noticed this development last week. Pretty soon we'll be making out in the utility closet. Seriously, though, I'm glad I'm getting to know her better. I'm discovering how funny she is and I love watching her interact with Ellen and Therese; it's a comedic treat, I tell ya. She's no Sinbad -- not yet -- but she'll put a smile on your face.

Get ready for my annual awards post. Oh, you're gonna love 'em! So stay tuned, bitches, because you're in for a treat and who knows, maybe you might even win one!

Ok, I'm off to the bathroom to palaver with the toilet.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

I am a rovin' gambler, I've gambled down in town, wherever I meet with a deck of cards, I lay my money down

I haven't posted much lately, and what I have posted has been brief and lacked meat. The reason for my absence is simply that I wasn't inspired or, to put it more succinctly, I was inspired in the sense of ideas but not in their application. In a word, I was lazy. It happens, and all you can do is work through it, even if the progress is sluggish.

In a previous post, I made mention of having abandoned a couple of them. Well, I've abandoned a couple more. I have two posts I couldn't finish about my trying night at a local writer's festival. I'm puzzled by this because it was an eventful evening and the post should have written itself.

I think my difficulty in completing the post was because almost too much that happened was worth writing about and I just didn't have the energy to tackle it. This development is slightly disconcerting to me, I must admit, and it makes me wonder whats going on with my psyche when I'm suddenly and inexplicably devoid of drive.

I don't know if I'll ever revisit the events of that night, but I will share a portion of it with you. Here is your set up, and it is bare bones, I'm afraid: Me and Spira are at the VFW in Davis Square standing in the back because there are no seats left, listening to local writers speak at the podium.

We weren't there five minutes when I got the vibe from Spira that she was ready to bolt. I knew how she felt; we were listening to the MC, some interpretive dancer slash political activist slash comedian discuss anal sex in a way that was inauthentic to my ears. I sensed she was just trying to be provocative and knew or cared little of what she spoke , which, as you know, is essential when discussing anal sex.

I was attracted to her, though, and found myself equally wanting her and wanting to to be far away from her. I imagined far-fetched ways in which I could bed her without having to hang out with her. In the midst of these imaginings, I peeked in at myself and realized I was behaving like an anachronistic, selfish male. I allowed the backslide in my evolution with the caveat that I would be more conscientious in the future.

The first poet MC Provocateur introduced was tedious to listen to. He was going on and on about his inner demons and was betting that we would be sympathetic to his misery. I, for one, wasn't. The poets that followed weren't much better. I felt like a kid at a boring church service and wanted to flee.

Before I continue, allow me to share my feelings about poetry, if I haven't made them apparent already. When I was in my early teens, I was taken with The Doors, particularly Jim Morrison. One could argue he was my first non-sexual crush. I wanted his looks, his voice, and skill with the pen. I devoured every book I could find on the band and read all of Morrison's poetry, the content of which was as important as the fact that I was reading it. I was so cool, man. Lions in the street and roaming /Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming...

I soon started writing poetry heavily in the vein of Mr. Morrison, the self-professed Lizard King. There's one piece I remember reading to my mother that I'm pretty sure was titled "The Caverns of the Mind". Heavy stuff, but my mother thought my treatise on insanity was about the basic functions of the brain, as if it was a homework assignment I was asking her to peruse. She missed all the pathos! I was offended, but even then, when our relationship was at it's most tempestuous, I gave her a mulligan; she was, in her fashion, only trying to be supportive.

I wasn't discouraged by my mother's reaction -- after all, who wants their mother to dig their poems -- and continued my exploration of the form. I read Baudelaire, Rimbault (both because of Morrison), Thomas, Keats, and Frost. At some point, I had the epiphany that I wasn't really interested in poetry and should probably stop trying to fool myself that I was.

I'm still not, though there are occasions I'll be taken with a poem, usually by one of the masters. The only modern poet I gel with is my friend Kevin. I can read his stuff all day long. And I'm sure there are others out there I'd gel with, but I'm never inspired to look for it, because there's so much shit to wade through in order to get to it.

I was going to riff on my dislike of amateur poetry, and it's self-serving nature, but this post is long enough as it is and I'd like to finally finish one. And also, I don't have the heart to crucify the legions of poets out there, shitty or otherwise. I've known a few in my time, and they were good people. I will offer some advice, however: The locks they put on diaries aren't necessarily there to safeguard against prying eyes. They also serve as a reminder that not everything is meant for public consumption.

So, where was I? Oh, so we were at the VFW and Spira did bail out on me. I had to stay because I was there to hear my friend Loce play a set and didn't want to be rude leaving so soon. Spira lasted about seven minutes before she abandoned me. I was pissed because she refused to stick it out another fifteen minutes until intermission and because she got to leave while I had to stick it out in misery.

It wasn't so bad after she left, though. I kept myself busy thinking about the MC, and my confused feelings for her, while I tuned out the steady drone of the poets. Most of the time she was stationed against the wall on the other side of the room. I made eye contact with her more than once and debated whether I should summon the nerve to approach her or play it safe and avoid the tangled mess I suspected I'd find myself in if I entered into an intimate relationship with her. I played it safe and left by myself when intermission hit.

After I shared an awkward goodbye with Loce -- he felt bad about having me come down when it turned out he was only playing small bits throughout the night -- I stepped out into the frigid night and walked past a small group of older women who were discussing the foul mouth of the MC. "Who talks about anal sex in front of hundreds of people?", one of them asked. "There's a time and a place for that." The implications of those last words unsettled me as I swiftly made my way to my car, trying not to think about that woman having anything to do with anal sex.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Life is very short, and there's no time for fussing and fighting, my friend

My day was peppered with mild dizzy spells; mild enough that they weren't disconcerting, but the fact that I had them at all made me curious. Probably not enough peas in my diet, something. Anyway, I feel fine now. I think doing yoga after work helped restore my equilibrium.
--

Know what? I'm done with this post. I may return to it later on, but I doubt it. It's getting late and I still have some stuff I want to do. You're curious, aren't you? You want to know what I'm going to do. Well, you can cross making love off the list. Probably not going to happen tonight, unless an unexpected visitor arrives or I decide to go it solo. Also, I won't be getting a scalp massage. And, though you might expect it of me, I have no plans to sit in my easy chair and read Sartre while I enjoy my pipe. Oh, and I won't be responding to fan mail, either; there's way too much of it to get to tonight. You'll have to wait until my next riveting post to find out what I did tonight.

Peace, bitches.

Monday, December 1, 2008

I'm going to tell you the way it is, and I'm not going to be kind or easy

First day back to work after the long weekend and it wasn't so bad. In fact, I was actually looking forward to it in a way. It doesn't hurt that I fancy one of my coworkers (Just between you and me, I never, ever say that I "fancy" anything in everyday life. Why? Because it sounds corny, son! But I'm going to let it remain here for reasons that are beyond me). Speaking of Ann...

I think we've become closer, or more comfortable with each other of late. She's initiating conversations more often and the rapport we have is less awkward, unforced. It's not that it was ever uncomfortable between us, but the pace in which we opened up to each other was relaxed and progress took its time reaching us. It's encouraging, no matter what form it takes, to see our relationship evolve.

Sometimes I think she fancies me too and is wondering why I'm not picking up on the signals she's projecting and asking her out. But, I've thought that way before with other women and have gotten burned; not by all of them; just the ones I worked up the nerve to ask out. I won't use the past as a deterrent so much as a reminder that, though it's served me well, my gut isn't always dead on.
--
I finished Streets of Laredo last night and felt lonesome afterward not only because it wasn't a cheery affair, but because I missed it.. On par with Lonesome Dove, for sure. I'm looking forward to Dead Man's Walk and Comanche Moon, the two remaining books in the tetralogy. Until I do, there is still Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian to contend with.
--
Spira and went for a run after work. The weather, nice and cool without being oppressive, was ideal. I wanted to go at least four miles, but we managed only three. Spira is pushing herself more and I'm really proud of her. We went from her apartment down to Davis Sq., got on the bike path that connected to Mass Ave, and once there, we turned around and went back to her place. A good run.
--
Craig and I played some more Star Wars tonight on Playstation. It's an addictive and pleasurable game. One of my favorites.
--
Ok, I'm done with you. As you were.