With all the snow we've been assaulted with this winter, the side roads have become narrower and narrower and, consequently, more dangerous. To wit, I almost got into a couple of accidents on my way home from work today that had everything to do with the snow. Well, the good news is winter is half over. The bad news is we're about to be leveled with at least another twenty inches of snow. We're good for one major snow storm a week. At this rate, we're due for about eight or nine more. What a winter.
We're almost at 20,000 hits. Not much of an achievement when you compare it to, say, a popular blog, where 20,000 hits can occur in a blink of an eye, but by my standards, it's fairly impressive. I've been at it for a number of years of now and while my readership hasn't multiplied like the mice that have completely taken over my kitchen, I'm happy with what I've got. I've never been interested in the numbers game anyway.
My initial purpose for this blog was to have a forum that would keep me writing on a regular basis. That I've done; I've kept my chops up, such as they are, but if there's been any improvement, I don't see it. That's okay, I'm not being graded.
I also had in mind to have no parameters as far as content went. I could write short stories, poems, character studies, essays, plays, you name it. As it turned out, I've for the most part treated this blog as a journal and have relegated my more ambitious and creative material to my other blog. Sometimes I wish I would have gone with the initial idea, but this framework has worked for me.
Increasingly, though, I've entertained the idea of shutting it all down. I've wondered if things have grown stale, if anyone, including myself, still finds anything of value in this blog. More so, I've been bandying about the idea of closing up shop and starting over, only this time telling only a select few people. In this new format, I'd be able to write more freely about my life and the people in it. Not that it'd be that different than what I'm doing here, but there are people who read this blog, or people they know, that could be featured in it at times in a less than flattering light. I'm not about the business of hurting anyone unduly, especially in a public forum. There's plenty of that type of behavior that I don't need to contribute. With that said, sometimes I resent the self-imposed restraint. Sometimes a brother may just want to vent. Ya dig?
Ah, but to go through the effort of starting a new blog just so I don't have to edit as much isn't worth it to me right now. I do know that if I'm to continue with this blog, a kick in the pants needs to happen. Whether that means altering the format, taking a hiatus, or some other outcome, I'm not sure. Frankly, I've got greater concerns to contend with. Best keep things status quo for the time being.
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I had a good yoga session this afternoon, despite my mind chattering up a storm throughout. It was therapeutic. I've had a few aggravating things on my mind of late, and the yoga helped keep me in balance. Still, in the interest of peace of mind, it will probably benefit me to take a lengthy break from one or two people in my life. The yoga can't make it all go away.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Summer dress, makes you more beautiful than the rest
We rid ourselves of two mice the other night. Baby Boy Z took care of the first one and Janelle disposed of the second. Their eviction was long overdue and I'm hoping there aren't more roaming around the house, but, let's face it, there probably are.
So, I'm petting Pooch Edward Bottoms in the kitchen, Janelle's heating soup on the stove, and I hear a skittering sound behind the stove, one of the hangouts of the mice. PEB heard it, too, and rushed over to the table in the corner. He had caught one before, but it got away. Will he be a bridesmaid once again, or will he seal the deal? He waited the bugger out. I moved the bread maker out of his way, giving him more room to operate. A few minutes went by and then, suddenly, he pounced! I could tell by the squealing that he caught the mouse. He brought it into the living room and poked and prodded it. It was then that I felt bad for the mouse, despite the aggravation it and its brethren had been causing. Baby Boy Z was killing it slowly and the abiding image I have is of the poor little mouse on its back in agony. The thought crossed my mind to intervene, but I begged off, deciding to let nature, as brutal as it can be, take its course. And, besides, my interference could have been demoralizing to the baby boy, who, after days and days of frustration, finally caught his prey. Still, I would have preferred a different outcome, but at least we were down a mouse.
The second capture occurred not long after. Janelle went to grab a bagel and discovered another mouse inside the bag. Wanting to avoid more carnage, she brought the bag outside. These mice had become brazen. Initially, they operated under the cover of darkness while we slept. Lately, they've relaxed their caution to their peril. Maybe now, if there are any left, they'll take heed of Baby Boy Z, mouser extraordinaire.
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A fine weekend. Last night, Janelle, Aviv, and I went up to Tracy and Ray's house in New Hampshire for a dinner party. In attendance were Rachael, Mike, Shane, and Jenni. After some delicious Middle Eastern food and wine, we played Cranium. Many laughs with some great people. It went late, which was a testament to the good time we were all having. Tracy was shocked that it was approaching midnight when things began to wrap up. Even the kids were still up, which, for them, was a new experience.
I began today by making some maple bacon and eggs. I never eat bacon, but I figured it would be a good occasion to have some, since Spira was coming by to eat. Say what you want about it, but there is little else that incites hunger as forcibly as the way bacon does as it's being cooked.
That being said, it's not a food I'll be eating for a while. Don't tell Pooch Edward that; he was entranced by the whole bacon experience.
After breakfast, Janelle, Aviv, Spira, and I went over to the Capitol Theatre to watch Seven Samurai. One of my all time favorites and I finally got to see it on the big screen. Scratch one of the bucket list.
Back at home, I was able to catch most of the second half of the Celtics/Lakers game. The C's brought the ruckus. Sorry Kobe, not today.
Been chugging through Fowle's A Maggot. So far, an enriching read.
More snow is on the way. I hear we could get significant amounts. It's becoming a problem, all of this snow. Where to put it is the central issue. Spring, hurry thine ass up!
Ok, I'm done with you.
-
So, I'm petting Pooch Edward Bottoms in the kitchen, Janelle's heating soup on the stove, and I hear a skittering sound behind the stove, one of the hangouts of the mice. PEB heard it, too, and rushed over to the table in the corner. He had caught one before, but it got away. Will he be a bridesmaid once again, or will he seal the deal? He waited the bugger out. I moved the bread maker out of his way, giving him more room to operate. A few minutes went by and then, suddenly, he pounced! I could tell by the squealing that he caught the mouse. He brought it into the living room and poked and prodded it. It was then that I felt bad for the mouse, despite the aggravation it and its brethren had been causing. Baby Boy Z was killing it slowly and the abiding image I have is of the poor little mouse on its back in agony. The thought crossed my mind to intervene, but I begged off, deciding to let nature, as brutal as it can be, take its course. And, besides, my interference could have been demoralizing to the baby boy, who, after days and days of frustration, finally caught his prey. Still, I would have preferred a different outcome, but at least we were down a mouse.
The second capture occurred not long after. Janelle went to grab a bagel and discovered another mouse inside the bag. Wanting to avoid more carnage, she brought the bag outside. These mice had become brazen. Initially, they operated under the cover of darkness while we slept. Lately, they've relaxed their caution to their peril. Maybe now, if there are any left, they'll take heed of Baby Boy Z, mouser extraordinaire.
-
A fine weekend. Last night, Janelle, Aviv, and I went up to Tracy and Ray's house in New Hampshire for a dinner party. In attendance were Rachael, Mike, Shane, and Jenni. After some delicious Middle Eastern food and wine, we played Cranium. Many laughs with some great people. It went late, which was a testament to the good time we were all having. Tracy was shocked that it was approaching midnight when things began to wrap up. Even the kids were still up, which, for them, was a new experience.
I began today by making some maple bacon and eggs. I never eat bacon, but I figured it would be a good occasion to have some, since Spira was coming by to eat. Say what you want about it, but there is little else that incites hunger as forcibly as the way bacon does as it's being cooked.
That being said, it's not a food I'll be eating for a while. Don't tell Pooch Edward that; he was entranced by the whole bacon experience.
After breakfast, Janelle, Aviv, Spira, and I went over to the Capitol Theatre to watch Seven Samurai. One of my all time favorites and I finally got to see it on the big screen. Scratch one of the bucket list.
Back at home, I was able to catch most of the second half of the Celtics/Lakers game. The C's brought the ruckus. Sorry Kobe, not today.
Been chugging through Fowle's A Maggot. So far, an enriching read.
More snow is on the way. I hear we could get significant amounts. It's becoming a problem, all of this snow. Where to put it is the central issue. Spring, hurry thine ass up!
Ok, I'm done with you.
-
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
In the back yard, in the living room, residential neighborhood, I've come for you
I feel lethargic. A direct result, I'm convinced, of the weather and its attendant dreariness. Or it could be a whole assortment of other factors that I'm too lethargic to contemplate. It's not yet 7:30 and I'm yawning frequently. If I make it through this post without falling asleep, I'll be in good shape.
More snow is on the way and, from the scuttlebutt I hear, the amount could be substantial. Whatever. The good thing about all the snow we've had already is the resignation that settled in. Give us what you got, gods of winter, we've seen it all.
Our house is in the process of being overtaken by mice. Judging by Zico's nose, which often has him sniffing furiously throughout the common areas in search of them, the welter of droppings scattered throughout the kitchen, the packaging of dry goods being infiltrated, and numerous eyewitness reports, it's safe to say they've taken up residence. Aside from Pooch Edward's vigilant attempts at catching the critters (He got one last week. He came prancing out of the kitchen with a tail hanging out of his closed mouth. Somehow, though, the little guy got away), nothing has been done to remedy the problem. I'll have to buy some Decon. Generally, I'm okay with mice as long as they keep to themselves and, I don't know, not shit everywhere and eat my food. Once they cross that line, it's on, son! Time for some all out murder.
I'm halfway through the DMT book and it's fascinating. I'll try to share some of the good parts. Concurrently, I'm reading Jacques Vallee's Confrontations and John Fowle's A Maggot, which I bought for a penny on Amazon.
This weekend they're showing Rashoman and Seven Samurai at the Capital. Can't miss Seven Samurai. Don't let me forget. At some point I'll watch The Kids Are Alright, the recent movie with Annette Benning , not the who biopic. I have been listening to a bunch of The Who, so maybe I will watch that, too.
The Celtics are playing tonight. I'll catch some of it if I'm not entrenched in a book or working on music. They're only playing Cleveland, who stink this year, so we'll see.
More snow is on the way and, from the scuttlebutt I hear, the amount could be substantial. Whatever. The good thing about all the snow we've had already is the resignation that settled in. Give us what you got, gods of winter, we've seen it all.
Our house is in the process of being overtaken by mice. Judging by Zico's nose, which often has him sniffing furiously throughout the common areas in search of them, the welter of droppings scattered throughout the kitchen, the packaging of dry goods being infiltrated, and numerous eyewitness reports, it's safe to say they've taken up residence. Aside from Pooch Edward's vigilant attempts at catching the critters (He got one last week. He came prancing out of the kitchen with a tail hanging out of his closed mouth. Somehow, though, the little guy got away), nothing has been done to remedy the problem. I'll have to buy some Decon. Generally, I'm okay with mice as long as they keep to themselves and, I don't know, not shit everywhere and eat my food. Once they cross that line, it's on, son! Time for some all out murder.
I'm halfway through the DMT book and it's fascinating. I'll try to share some of the good parts. Concurrently, I'm reading Jacques Vallee's Confrontations and John Fowle's A Maggot, which I bought for a penny on Amazon.
This weekend they're showing Rashoman and Seven Samurai at the Capital. Can't miss Seven Samurai. Don't let me forget. At some point I'll watch The Kids Are Alright, the recent movie with Annette Benning , not the who biopic. I have been listening to a bunch of The Who, so maybe I will watch that, too.
The Celtics are playing tonight. I'll catch some of it if I'm not entrenched in a book or working on music. They're only playing Cleveland, who stink this year, so we'll see.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Her man's been gone for nigh on a year, he was due home yesterday, but he aint here
Game night at Spira's last night. Boggle and Trivial Pursuit were played, but I abstained and jammed with Pat and Craig. It began with Craig piecing together The Who's Amazing Journey on piano. I grabbed Spira's acoustic and from there we tackled as much of Tommy as we could muster. As the evening wound down, others joined in the mix and we sang some Beatles, David Bowie, Moody Blues, and Oasis (we performed a killer version of Wonderwall). Ali made some turkey chili, which was tasty, and beer and wine was consumed. How can you ask for a better evening.
Synchronicity. On the way to Spira's last night, Craig and I stopped off to get some beer. In the store, a Puff Daddy song was playing (not exactly sure if it was one of his or Biggie's, but he was featured on it, nonetheless). Craig commented that he had just heard the song earlier while at work. Minutes later, in the lobby of Spira's building, I note that the concierge looks almost exactly like Puff Daddy (or Diddy, as he's called these days). Later, I tell Craig about this, and he agrees. "Now, what if, fresh from hearing a Puff Daddy song, one of us started whistling or humming it in front of the concierge, and the concierge took offense at the not so subtle way of
pointing out his likeness to Puff Daddy?" I said. Fortunately, that didn't happen, but it does illustrate how synchronicity has the potential to be troublesome.
I saw Ella last night for the first time in almost two months. We laughed at how our opposing schedules makes it almost certain we'll never run into each other. I told her it was nice seeing her. I'll same the same when I see her again in a month or two.
Used my Barnes & Noble gift card my sister got me for Christmas and picked up DMT: The Spirit Molecule. Strange how that came about. I had a dream last night that I was at the book store and the three books I was interested in picking up weren't in stock. Disappointed, I spied the DMT book on the shelf. I had almost forgotten that it was a book I'd been meaning to pick up for a while. I bought it, thankful that my trip wasn't in vain.
On my way to the store this morning, I wondered if the dream would prove to be prophetic. As in the dream, there were a few books I was interested in purchasing or, at the very least, checking out. I was particularly interested in John Fowle's A Maggot, but it wasn't in stock. None of the books I was interested were. Just like the dream. Guess which one was? Looks like I'll be reading about DMT in the near future.
More snow is on the way. We're not even out of January yet and we've been overwhelmed with it. Surprisingly, with as much snow as we've gotten, and with its attendant difficulties, I haven't had the incredible urge to move somewhere warm like I usually do every winter. Maybe it's resignation, who knows.
Synchronicity. On the way to Spira's last night, Craig and I stopped off to get some beer. In the store, a Puff Daddy song was playing (not exactly sure if it was one of his or Biggie's, but he was featured on it, nonetheless). Craig commented that he had just heard the song earlier while at work. Minutes later, in the lobby of Spira's building, I note that the concierge looks almost exactly like Puff Daddy (or Diddy, as he's called these days). Later, I tell Craig about this, and he agrees. "Now, what if, fresh from hearing a Puff Daddy song, one of us started whistling or humming it in front of the concierge, and the concierge took offense at the not so subtle way of
pointing out his likeness to Puff Daddy?" I said. Fortunately, that didn't happen, but it does illustrate how synchronicity has the potential to be troublesome.
I saw Ella last night for the first time in almost two months. We laughed at how our opposing schedules makes it almost certain we'll never run into each other. I told her it was nice seeing her. I'll same the same when I see her again in a month or two.
Used my Barnes & Noble gift card my sister got me for Christmas and picked up DMT: The Spirit Molecule. Strange how that came about. I had a dream last night that I was at the book store and the three books I was interested in picking up weren't in stock. Disappointed, I spied the DMT book on the shelf. I had almost forgotten that it was a book I'd been meaning to pick up for a while. I bought it, thankful that my trip wasn't in vain.
On my way to the store this morning, I wondered if the dream would prove to be prophetic. As in the dream, there were a few books I was interested in purchasing or, at the very least, checking out. I was particularly interested in John Fowle's A Maggot, but it wasn't in stock. None of the books I was interested were. Just like the dream. Guess which one was? Looks like I'll be reading about DMT in the near future.
More snow is on the way. We're not even out of January yet and we've been overwhelmed with it. Surprisingly, with as much snow as we've gotten, and with its attendant difficulties, I haven't had the incredible urge to move somewhere warm like I usually do every winter. Maybe it's resignation, who knows.
Friday, January 21, 2011
I embace a moment, I'm in love with a dream
Not so much a crappy week, but a trying one. Being pelted with snow every other day didn't help matters, but I dealt with it. Didn't go to work today because of last night's snow fall. I did, however, manage to squeeze some work in at the courthouse in Cambridge. Not quite a full day's work, but it was something. And, with finances looking grim, something is better than nothing.
I had gone to the courthouse yesterday on behalf of Jeff, who wanted me to research some files in Probate. When I returned to the office with copies and info, I learned that I neglected to obtain a particular document that Jeff needed. So, if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have had any work today. It pays to screw up every now and again.
Despite the roads being in fine condition by the time I left for Cambridge, there weren't too many people out and about. I pulled up to a meter near the courthouse and questioned whether I should park there. There were no cars parked nearby, which I found suspicious. Maybe the parking ban was still in effect? I thought about it for a minute and decided to give it a shot. There wouldn't be any more plowing - the sun was out and there was no snow on the roads - perhaps the ban had been lifted. I got out of the car and, just as I was about to feed the meter, an older couple came upon me on the sidewalk and informed me I would be towed if I remained there. Not finding that outcome desirable, I parked in the garage at the Gallereia.
The courthouse was virtually empty, particularly Probate. It was refreshing. Probate is usually crammed tight with ornery people dealing with paternity and divorce issues. And worse - lawyers abound! Not a place you want to hang out in for very long. Today you could hear a pin drop and the clerks, relieved of the hustle and bustle, were kind and helpful.
While I was waiting for my file to brought down from another room, I walked across the atrium to the Registry to see who was around, and by that I mean the woman I've had a bit of a crush on for a while now. I've mentioned her before - she's the one I'd envisioned to be kind of flaky in an Annie Hall kind of way, though I had no basis to support the notion. Maybe, because I'm attracted to that type, it was a case of wishful thinking on my part. Anyway, she was nowhere to be found.
I walked back to Probate, grabbed my file, and spread it out on the surface a long cabinet. Someone did the same next to me and when I looked over I saw that it was her. I'd never had the occasion to speak to her before, had never even been this close. It would be unfortunate if I passed up on this opportunity. I promised myself I'd say something to her. I just had to figure out what I was going to say. I ruled out "I love you", figuring that would be a bit much, and "Please like me", figuring that would come off as being a bit needy.
She left Probate, leaving her work atop the cabinet. I wondered if she had forgotten to return it to the clerk or if she intended on coming back. I figured the latter scenario was more likely. It was. She returned a few minutes later. My word to myself is bond, so when she appeared, I said, "Just so you know, I made sure no one took your file while you were gone. I watched it like a hawk."
She smiled, folded her hands prayer-like under her chin, and said "Thank you soooo much!". It was a funny display. I said, "Oh, it was nothing. It's what I do. I had to fight a few scoundrels off, but, in the end, it turned out okay."
"I keep wondering if someone will take my stuff and I think it will happen eventually, but it doesn't and I ....." Ok, I let the above comment trail off because I can't recall exactly what she said and can't convey the manner in which she said it, except to say that it was a bit rambling and kind of goofy. In a word: endearing. My suspicion that she was an oddball, or at least had the tendencies of one, was confirmed, yet I was still surprised. Remember, I had never spoken to her before and could only guess at how I thought she'd be. There is the gut, though, and mine, more often than not, has guided me true. I tend to interact well with people who are left of center, but it doesn't happen too often these days. It was nice having someone play along with me and not look at me like I was a drooling derelict. I may drool, but I am most certainly not a derelict.
Now here's where a bit of synchronicity comes into effect. Last night, Janelle and I were watching The Office and there are two characters on the show, Erin and Holly, that have quirky, endearing personalities that I adore. Last night's episode focused on Michael and Holly's relationship, and throughout I kept thinking how I'd like to date someone like Holly, someone offbeat, flawed, and kind. Months ago, I had a dream, which I may have related in this blog, about having such a strong kinship with a woman I met at the Registry in Cambridge, there was no question we were meant for each other. It wasn't clear who this woman was, save that she was blondish, worked there, and was a playful oddball.
I always associated the way we interacted in the dream with the way Michael and Holly interact in The Office. Not specifically, but more in the way they seem to be kindred spirits. And there was a correlation to Holly in personality; the woman in the dream was not your normal, run of the mill woman. After the dream, whenever I saw this woman at the Registry, I always wondered if she was the one in the dream. It seemed as if she was, but I didn't put too much thought into it, especially given the fact that we had never interacted and I suspected she was married.
So, on the heels of watching last night's Holly and Michael episode of The Office, I finally get to meet this woman, whose name I still do not know, and the first thing I think of when she speaks to me is, "She reminds me of Holly". What does it all mean? Am I suggesting I've found my sould mate, that it was preordained and I've been given signs of its eventuality? I hesitate to make that leap, though there is a part of me that is rooting for that to be the case. The best thing I can do for myself is to stay present and let matters pan out the way they'll pan out. Today I was just happy to have broken the ice; now, when I see her again, there will be recognition. Hopefully, anyway. I'd be lying, however, if it didn't put a grin on the rest of my day. When she left, she looked over her shoulder and said, "Thank you so much!" in a playful way.
"My pleasure", I replied.
And it was.
I had gone to the courthouse yesterday on behalf of Jeff, who wanted me to research some files in Probate. When I returned to the office with copies and info, I learned that I neglected to obtain a particular document that Jeff needed. So, if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have had any work today. It pays to screw up every now and again.
Despite the roads being in fine condition by the time I left for Cambridge, there weren't too many people out and about. I pulled up to a meter near the courthouse and questioned whether I should park there. There were no cars parked nearby, which I found suspicious. Maybe the parking ban was still in effect? I thought about it for a minute and decided to give it a shot. There wouldn't be any more plowing - the sun was out and there was no snow on the roads - perhaps the ban had been lifted. I got out of the car and, just as I was about to feed the meter, an older couple came upon me on the sidewalk and informed me I would be towed if I remained there. Not finding that outcome desirable, I parked in the garage at the Gallereia.
The courthouse was virtually empty, particularly Probate. It was refreshing. Probate is usually crammed tight with ornery people dealing with paternity and divorce issues. And worse - lawyers abound! Not a place you want to hang out in for very long. Today you could hear a pin drop and the clerks, relieved of the hustle and bustle, were kind and helpful.
While I was waiting for my file to brought down from another room, I walked across the atrium to the Registry to see who was around, and by that I mean the woman I've had a bit of a crush on for a while now. I've mentioned her before - she's the one I'd envisioned to be kind of flaky in an Annie Hall kind of way, though I had no basis to support the notion. Maybe, because I'm attracted to that type, it was a case of wishful thinking on my part. Anyway, she was nowhere to be found.
I walked back to Probate, grabbed my file, and spread it out on the surface a long cabinet. Someone did the same next to me and when I looked over I saw that it was her. I'd never had the occasion to speak to her before, had never even been this close. It would be unfortunate if I passed up on this opportunity. I promised myself I'd say something to her. I just had to figure out what I was going to say. I ruled out "I love you", figuring that would be a bit much, and "Please like me", figuring that would come off as being a bit needy.
She left Probate, leaving her work atop the cabinet. I wondered if she had forgotten to return it to the clerk or if she intended on coming back. I figured the latter scenario was more likely. It was. She returned a few minutes later. My word to myself is bond, so when she appeared, I said, "Just so you know, I made sure no one took your file while you were gone. I watched it like a hawk."
She smiled, folded her hands prayer-like under her chin, and said "Thank you soooo much!". It was a funny display. I said, "Oh, it was nothing. It's what I do. I had to fight a few scoundrels off, but, in the end, it turned out okay."
"I keep wondering if someone will take my stuff and I think it will happen eventually, but it doesn't and I ....." Ok, I let the above comment trail off because I can't recall exactly what she said and can't convey the manner in which she said it, except to say that it was a bit rambling and kind of goofy. In a word: endearing. My suspicion that she was an oddball, or at least had the tendencies of one, was confirmed, yet I was still surprised. Remember, I had never spoken to her before and could only guess at how I thought she'd be. There is the gut, though, and mine, more often than not, has guided me true. I tend to interact well with people who are left of center, but it doesn't happen too often these days. It was nice having someone play along with me and not look at me like I was a drooling derelict. I may drool, but I am most certainly not a derelict.
Now here's where a bit of synchronicity comes into effect. Last night, Janelle and I were watching The Office and there are two characters on the show, Erin and Holly, that have quirky, endearing personalities that I adore. Last night's episode focused on Michael and Holly's relationship, and throughout I kept thinking how I'd like to date someone like Holly, someone offbeat, flawed, and kind. Months ago, I had a dream, which I may have related in this blog, about having such a strong kinship with a woman I met at the Registry in Cambridge, there was no question we were meant for each other. It wasn't clear who this woman was, save that she was blondish, worked there, and was a playful oddball.
I always associated the way we interacted in the dream with the way Michael and Holly interact in The Office. Not specifically, but more in the way they seem to be kindred spirits. And there was a correlation to Holly in personality; the woman in the dream was not your normal, run of the mill woman. After the dream, whenever I saw this woman at the Registry, I always wondered if she was the one in the dream. It seemed as if she was, but I didn't put too much thought into it, especially given the fact that we had never interacted and I suspected she was married.
So, on the heels of watching last night's Holly and Michael episode of The Office, I finally get to meet this woman, whose name I still do not know, and the first thing I think of when she speaks to me is, "She reminds me of Holly". What does it all mean? Am I suggesting I've found my sould mate, that it was preordained and I've been given signs of its eventuality? I hesitate to make that leap, though there is a part of me that is rooting for that to be the case. The best thing I can do for myself is to stay present and let matters pan out the way they'll pan out. Today I was just happy to have broken the ice; now, when I see her again, there will be recognition. Hopefully, anyway. I'd be lying, however, if it didn't put a grin on the rest of my day. When she left, she looked over her shoulder and said, "Thank you so much!" in a playful way.
"My pleasure", I replied.
And it was.
Monday, January 17, 2011
In the old time, it was not a crime
Oh, boy, do I love listening to Deerhoof. If everyone on the planet was a fan, we'd all be happy. There would still be plenty of violence and strife, but we'd all be happy. Don't bother asking me how that would be possible, just accept everything I say at face value.
So, Troll 2 lived up to its billing as worst movie ever. It really brought the ruckus. I found it thoroughly watchable.
The Patriots lost. I had a feeling that might happen. Any given Sunday, they say. Very true. So, here's my prediction: Green Bay vs. Pittsburgh in the Super Bowl. Green Bay wins. Take it to the bank.
Been reading Jacques Vallee's Dimensions and my mind is being stretched thin. Vallee was one of the first to put forth the idea that what we refer to as UFOs and ETs might actually be locals, meaning they're not from Mars or some distant galaxy, but have been here the entire time, existing just outside our reality. He makes a good case and explores our myths and legends to support it. Elves and fairies, gnomes and trolls, might not just be flights of fancy. Intriguing, well thought out, stuff.
Earlier today, I felt uneasy, doom-ridden, but as the day progressed, I felt much better. In fact, I've been feeling positively cheery these last couple of hours. I went out for coffee earlier and, I can't say this with absolute certainty, but there may have been a spring in my step as I walked the sidewalks of this fine city.
I'm debating whether to watch Ugetsu or The Celtics/Magic game. Maybe I'll just work on some music and eat one of Janelle's cookies. Maybe I'll go say hi to Pooch Edward. Maybe I'll shut up about my possible plans.
With that, I'm out this piece. Holla!
So, Troll 2 lived up to its billing as worst movie ever. It really brought the ruckus. I found it thoroughly watchable.
The Patriots lost. I had a feeling that might happen. Any given Sunday, they say. Very true. So, here's my prediction: Green Bay vs. Pittsburgh in the Super Bowl. Green Bay wins. Take it to the bank.
Been reading Jacques Vallee's Dimensions and my mind is being stretched thin. Vallee was one of the first to put forth the idea that what we refer to as UFOs and ETs might actually be locals, meaning they're not from Mars or some distant galaxy, but have been here the entire time, existing just outside our reality. He makes a good case and explores our myths and legends to support it. Elves and fairies, gnomes and trolls, might not just be flights of fancy. Intriguing, well thought out, stuff.
Earlier today, I felt uneasy, doom-ridden, but as the day progressed, I felt much better. In fact, I've been feeling positively cheery these last couple of hours. I went out for coffee earlier and, I can't say this with absolute certainty, but there may have been a spring in my step as I walked the sidewalks of this fine city.
I'm debating whether to watch Ugetsu or The Celtics/Magic game. Maybe I'll just work on some music and eat one of Janelle's cookies. Maybe I'll go say hi to Pooch Edward. Maybe I'll shut up about my possible plans.
With that, I'm out this piece. Holla!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
You know that I love you, you know I don't care, you know that I see you, you know I'm not there
The other night I had a dream in which I was in an apartment with people not known to me. It was around Christmas and there were children clustered around some lights hung from a window. A kindly middle-aged woman was sharing a story about them. They were awestruck. This would have been a sweet scene if it wasn't for the fact that I knew the adults in the room were Satanists and had evil plans for the children.
The next thing I knew I was murdering people indiscriminately. I was in the process of hacking up a woman with a sword or an axe - I can't recall which, but it doesn't really matter - when it dawned on me that I was one of them, a Satanist, despite only seconds before having possessed a very staunch revulsion towards the religion. Before I could go further, a couple of women disarmed me and pulled me away from my foul act. I woke up, wondering where the dream came from and what it meant. I hadn't watched anything remotely scary, hadn't had spicy food before bed. I better keep an eye on myself, I thought. I still haven't been enlightened regarding its meaning.
Later the following day, I walked over to the convenience store and while at the counter paying for my goods, behind me someone shouted at the top of their lungs, "GET THAT DEVIL OUT OF HERE!" I nearly shit myself for two obvious reasons: 1. I was startled by the shouting and 2. This person knew about my dream and was calling me out.
I turned around and, to my slight relief, I saw that the man shouting was the local lunatic, for lack of a better word. This guy is always yelling at the top of his lungs and, aside from the shock of his verbal delivery, he's harmless. And to my further relief, it wasn't me he wanted out of the store, it was some other guy, who, as it happened, didn't need any further prodding and got his ass out of there post haste. That left me trying to pay the cashier while this nutter was screaming at the top of his lungs next to me, explaining to the cashier that he didn't want to go to Hell. Looks like I dodged a bullet. My secret is still safe. Mwuhahahahaaaahhhhh!
--
Watched La Vie En Rose at Spira's on Friday. Such a great film; can't believe it took me this long to watch it. As much as I admire her music, I never knew much about the life of Edith Piaf. This film enlightened me. Tragic, but in it's own fashion, inspiring. As tough as her life was, she kept plugging away at it. I recommend it highly.
Today, I will watch Troll 2. I had heard about this movie through the documentary Best Worst Movie, which chronicles the cult following it has garnered over the years. All over the world, people assemble in movie theaters to watch it. It's become a phenomena. Mostly this is because the movie is so utterly bad that it's good, but also because, while poorly made, a lot of heart went into it. The documentary was great, particularly because the makers of the film, from director to cast, seem so nice. Most of them attend Troll 2 events across the country and seem to genuinely enjoy doing it. I'm looking forward to watching it myself. Perhaps, if the movie takes me in its grip like it does so many others, I'll be attending one or two of these events myself someday.
I vaguely recall having a dream last night about a friend I haven't seen in a few years. He was one of my best friends, one I couldn't envision not having anymore, but alas, he is gone to me. I don't remember much of the dream, except the part where we were saying goodbye. Apparently, we had a random encounter and had a good conversation. As we were parting, I asked if he'd want to hang out sometime. He thought about it for a moment and said he'd rather not. I asked him to reconsider - I didn't want to lose him again - but he said he wanted to keep things the way they were and left. You can't go home again.
But you can watch the Patriots/Jets game today. That's what I'll be doing. It should be a good one.
The next thing I knew I was murdering people indiscriminately. I was in the process of hacking up a woman with a sword or an axe - I can't recall which, but it doesn't really matter - when it dawned on me that I was one of them, a Satanist, despite only seconds before having possessed a very staunch revulsion towards the religion. Before I could go further, a couple of women disarmed me and pulled me away from my foul act. I woke up, wondering where the dream came from and what it meant. I hadn't watched anything remotely scary, hadn't had spicy food before bed. I better keep an eye on myself, I thought. I still haven't been enlightened regarding its meaning.
Later the following day, I walked over to the convenience store and while at the counter paying for my goods, behind me someone shouted at the top of their lungs, "GET THAT DEVIL OUT OF HERE!" I nearly shit myself for two obvious reasons: 1. I was startled by the shouting and 2. This person knew about my dream and was calling me out.
I turned around and, to my slight relief, I saw that the man shouting was the local lunatic, for lack of a better word. This guy is always yelling at the top of his lungs and, aside from the shock of his verbal delivery, he's harmless. And to my further relief, it wasn't me he wanted out of the store, it was some other guy, who, as it happened, didn't need any further prodding and got his ass out of there post haste. That left me trying to pay the cashier while this nutter was screaming at the top of his lungs next to me, explaining to the cashier that he didn't want to go to Hell. Looks like I dodged a bullet. My secret is still safe. Mwuhahahahaaaahhhhh!
--
Watched La Vie En Rose at Spira's on Friday. Such a great film; can't believe it took me this long to watch it. As much as I admire her music, I never knew much about the life of Edith Piaf. This film enlightened me. Tragic, but in it's own fashion, inspiring. As tough as her life was, she kept plugging away at it. I recommend it highly.
Today, I will watch Troll 2. I had heard about this movie through the documentary Best Worst Movie, which chronicles the cult following it has garnered over the years. All over the world, people assemble in movie theaters to watch it. It's become a phenomena. Mostly this is because the movie is so utterly bad that it's good, but also because, while poorly made, a lot of heart went into it. The documentary was great, particularly because the makers of the film, from director to cast, seem so nice. Most of them attend Troll 2 events across the country and seem to genuinely enjoy doing it. I'm looking forward to watching it myself. Perhaps, if the movie takes me in its grip like it does so many others, I'll be attending one or two of these events myself someday.
I vaguely recall having a dream last night about a friend I haven't seen in a few years. He was one of my best friends, one I couldn't envision not having anymore, but alas, he is gone to me. I don't remember much of the dream, except the part where we were saying goodbye. Apparently, we had a random encounter and had a good conversation. As we were parting, I asked if he'd want to hang out sometime. He thought about it for a moment and said he'd rather not. I asked him to reconsider - I didn't want to lose him again - but he said he wanted to keep things the way they were and left. You can't go home again.
But you can watch the Patriots/Jets game today. That's what I'll be doing. It should be a good one.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Treated you like a rusty blade, a throw away from an open grave
Recently, Rick told me I could once again park in the driveway. His son, who'd been staying with him, had borrowed his car for a few weeks. This morning, I looked out the kitchen window to see how much snow we got and saw a massive tree limb perched on the rear of my car. It didn't look too bad, and it wasn't, but I think it's kind of funny that once I started parking in the driveway again, a tree beats the shit out of it. Oh, well.
I went out and shoveled shortly after waking up. My intention to sleep in was squelched by Steve, who had his snow blower going bright and early. How could I have forgotten? I was halfway finished with the driveway, when Rick came out, shovel in hand, to join me. "Why don't you just let Steve do the driveway?", he asked. I didn't say this, but my thought was the less I hear of that god-damned snow blower the better. Last storm, he had it going all day and well into the night. No exaggeration. This storm produced more snow, so I can rest assured I'll be listening to that confounded piece of machinery all day and all fucking night. It's about one o'clock and he's still going strong. His driveway was cleared off long ago, but he's still going. Fucking prick. Seriously, fucking prick!
I'm beat after the shoveling and tree removal, but a nap seems impossible with Steve's noise pollution outside my window, so maybe I'll just read or watch a movie. Maybe Steve will take a short break and I'll be able to squeeze in a nap. Somehow I doubt that will happen. Oh, well, I'll make the best of the day off.
I went out and shoveled shortly after waking up. My intention to sleep in was squelched by Steve, who had his snow blower going bright and early. How could I have forgotten? I was halfway finished with the driveway, when Rick came out, shovel in hand, to join me. "Why don't you just let Steve do the driveway?", he asked. I didn't say this, but my thought was the less I hear of that god-damned snow blower the better. Last storm, he had it going all day and well into the night. No exaggeration. This storm produced more snow, so I can rest assured I'll be listening to that confounded piece of machinery all day and all fucking night. It's about one o'clock and he's still going strong. His driveway was cleared off long ago, but he's still going. Fucking prick. Seriously, fucking prick!
I'm beat after the shoveling and tree removal, but a nap seems impossible with Steve's noise pollution outside my window, so maybe I'll just read or watch a movie. Maybe Steve will take a short break and I'll be able to squeeze in a nap. Somehow I doubt that will happen. Oh, well, I'll make the best of the day off.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
And the blood from his napper I quickly did draw, and paid him stock-and-interest for Erin-go-bragh
God's vengeful wrath will be visited upon us late tonight, if the weather mavens are accurate, and come tomorrow we will buried in snow. And, consequently, I will not be going to work. So, should I stay up as late as I can with the certainty that I can sleep in, or should I play it safe and go to bed at a more reasonable time, which for me is later than most folk, just in case the storm is much ado about nuttin? My vote is for the former option. Now, how to keep myself awake late into the night...hmmm.
People are always saying to me, " Kevin, you're always unflinchingly positive about everything . What's your secret?" I tell them there is no secret, that indeed I am not always positive. As pure as my heart is, it would be unhealthy to think positively about everything. There are plenty of things I'm not a big fan of. To wit:
- Raisins. I've tried to like 'em, really I have, but unless they're in biryani, it's a no go for this lad. And keep 'em out of my cookies, or I'll slap you!
- People who whip out in front of me on the road only to drive slower than my Aunt Nellie.
- Crocs. I'm sure they're comfortable, but they're gross to look at, especially the neon colored ones.
- People who throw used condoms at me. Okay, that hasn't happened, but I'm almost 100% sure I wouldn't like it.
-Sean Hannity. Just looking at him makes me want to judo chop his face. The same goes for Glen Beck and Rush Limbaugh. I'm not even talking about their politics, there's just something about them that makes you want to smack them. Ok, maybe politics do factor into the equation, but still.
Glee. I fucking hate that show. I gave it a shot but it's not for me. No, sir.
Maraschino cherries. They are really, really gross.
Horseflies. They're just plain jerks. I have not met a single one that was even half cool.
Being interrupted. Look, it happens, and I'm fine with it, but when it's chronic, well, it's nothing short of irritating.
Parents who dress their five year old daughters up like adults and put them through the pageant circuit. It's bad enough they dress them up as adults, but they dress them up like adult prostitutes.
Ok, enough with the dislikes. There are plenty more, but I don't want to overwhelm you. Plus, I've got to get started with my evening. Maybe watch the rest of The Human Condition, work on music, do some reading, listen to the Dick Gaughan cd that came in the mail today. Who knows.
People are always saying to me, " Kevin, you're always unflinchingly positive about everything . What's your secret?" I tell them there is no secret, that indeed I am not always positive. As pure as my heart is, it would be unhealthy to think positively about everything. There are plenty of things I'm not a big fan of. To wit:
- Raisins. I've tried to like 'em, really I have, but unless they're in biryani, it's a no go for this lad. And keep 'em out of my cookies, or I'll slap you!
- People who whip out in front of me on the road only to drive slower than my Aunt Nellie.
- Crocs. I'm sure they're comfortable, but they're gross to look at, especially the neon colored ones.
- People who throw used condoms at me. Okay, that hasn't happened, but I'm almost 100% sure I wouldn't like it.
-Sean Hannity. Just looking at him makes me want to judo chop his face. The same goes for Glen Beck and Rush Limbaugh. I'm not even talking about their politics, there's just something about them that makes you want to smack them. Ok, maybe politics do factor into the equation, but still.
Glee. I fucking hate that show. I gave it a shot but it's not for me. No, sir.
Maraschino cherries. They are really, really gross.
Horseflies. They're just plain jerks. I have not met a single one that was even half cool.
Being interrupted. Look, it happens, and I'm fine with it, but when it's chronic, well, it's nothing short of irritating.
Parents who dress their five year old daughters up like adults and put them through the pageant circuit. It's bad enough they dress them up as adults, but they dress them up like adult prostitutes.
Ok, enough with the dislikes. There are plenty more, but I don't want to overwhelm you. Plus, I've got to get started with my evening. Maybe watch the rest of The Human Condition, work on music, do some reading, listen to the Dick Gaughan cd that came in the mail today. Who knows.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
And I'm the only one who laughs at your jokes when they are so bad, and your jokes are always bad
I watched The Fountain and enjoyed it very much. I regret having put off watching it for so long, but I only did so because of all the negative attention it received. Over time, I've learned to not trust entirely the rulings of the court of public opinion, but there is also something to be said for where there is smoke, there is fire. I don't what people were thinking in this instance, except to say that they were doing very little.
The movie was said to be a disjointed mess, impossible to follow, over done. I must have watched a different movie than everyone else, because I found it quite easy to follow, beautifully rendered, and poignant. To this day, Darren Aronofsky defends this work vehemently. As he should. I can only imagine how frustrating it must be for him to know that so many viewers don't get it. I have to believe that over time, especially in the wake of critically lauded works like The Black Swan, The Fountain will be looked back upon as one of his masterworks. I was deeply affected by it. I'm glad I saw it.
-
Keeping an eye on all the odd fish and bird deaths that have occurred recently. Call me crazy, but I'm not really buying the claim that at least in one instance, a flock of birds died as a result of being displaced by the roar and flash of fireworks. Apparently, most of them were displaced into houses and other stationary objects. Hmmm....maybe, but wouldn't we have a record of this type of thing happening before, considering our country's love of fireworks. And how do we account for all the other bird and fish deaths across the world in Sweden, New Zealand, Brazil, and Florida? High strangeness. Perhaps there is a logical explanation, perhaps not, but you've got to do better than fireworks as the cause.
Wanted to be more social this weekend, but there wasn't much going on. I wasn't devastated by this development and managed to attend to matters that needed attending to, like crying myself to sleep, for instance.
Spira and I went out for lunch earlier. Got some burgers at the Rosebud and then coffee at Starbucks. Haven't had a burger in a while - it was good; mushroom swiss was how I rocked it.
Seven Samurai and Rashoman are playing at the Capitol in a couple of weeks. I don't have a bucket list, but if I did, seeing Seven Samurai on the big screen would most certainly be on it. I will not miss it, I declare!
We're almost at 20,000 hits on this here blog, which is kind of significant, right? Maybe we should celebrate when we get there. It'll be a gala affair. I'll brainstorm and see what I can come up with. I'm open to suggestions, too. Oh, it'll be fun, I tells ya!
The movie was said to be a disjointed mess, impossible to follow, over done. I must have watched a different movie than everyone else, because I found it quite easy to follow, beautifully rendered, and poignant. To this day, Darren Aronofsky defends this work vehemently. As he should. I can only imagine how frustrating it must be for him to know that so many viewers don't get it. I have to believe that over time, especially in the wake of critically lauded works like The Black Swan, The Fountain will be looked back upon as one of his masterworks. I was deeply affected by it. I'm glad I saw it.
-
Keeping an eye on all the odd fish and bird deaths that have occurred recently. Call me crazy, but I'm not really buying the claim that at least in one instance, a flock of birds died as a result of being displaced by the roar and flash of fireworks. Apparently, most of them were displaced into houses and other stationary objects. Hmmm....maybe, but wouldn't we have a record of this type of thing happening before, considering our country's love of fireworks. And how do we account for all the other bird and fish deaths across the world in Sweden, New Zealand, Brazil, and Florida? High strangeness. Perhaps there is a logical explanation, perhaps not, but you've got to do better than fireworks as the cause.
Wanted to be more social this weekend, but there wasn't much going on. I wasn't devastated by this development and managed to attend to matters that needed attending to, like crying myself to sleep, for instance.
Spira and I went out for lunch earlier. Got some burgers at the Rosebud and then coffee at Starbucks. Haven't had a burger in a while - it was good; mushroom swiss was how I rocked it.
Seven Samurai and Rashoman are playing at the Capitol in a couple of weeks. I don't have a bucket list, but if I did, seeing Seven Samurai on the big screen would most certainly be on it. I will not miss it, I declare!
We're almost at 20,000 hits on this here blog, which is kind of significant, right? Maybe we should celebrate when we get there. It'll be a gala affair. I'll brainstorm and see what I can come up with. I'm open to suggestions, too. Oh, it'll be fun, I tells ya!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
And the moon shines bright, as I rove at night, to muse upon my charmer
Having vivid dreams lately. Most of them have found me among friends past and current. The one I awoke from this morning had me the owner of a new bike, one I was just about ready to take for a spin before I woke up. Oh, to have a bike again. Come spring, I'll have to remedy that.
Presently, I'm adding music to my iTunes library. This morning, I've added some Bert Jansch, Chris Bell, Beck, The Danielson Family, Belle & Sebastian, Devendra Banhart, The Incredible String Band, Mavin Gaye, and The Beatles. As you can see, I've been sticking to the early part of the alphabet. It's slow going, but I'm getting there. A pleasant task accompanied by the lazy sipping of warm coffee and songs on shuffle.
We got some snow last night, but a mere dusting it was. Still, it's a day that one would rather stay indoors. I've stated it numerous times, but I am not a fan of winter. No, sir. Alas, I look for it's bright spots, few as they are, and try to make the best out of it.
More awards.
Sign of The Apocalypse # 45
One word: Snookie.
Best Concert
I saw a few this year - Sufjan Stevens, Jonsi, and Rufus Wainwright - and each was very good, but Rufus's performance at The Opera House was truly sublime. And, as an added bonus, Spira and I spotted his sister, Martha, in the park before the show. We didn't approach her, but it was kind of cool seeing her for some reason.
Most Overused Phrase
This may mostly be coming from the sports media, but everyone, in reference to the future tense, says things like, "Moving forward, the team needs to focus on effort" or "Going forward, the coach needs to stop watching his players in the shower." As for me, moving forward, I'd like to see this phrase put to rest, or at the very least used a bit less. Let's mix it up a bit, people.
Moving forward.
I started watching The Human Condition last night, but I did so late and thus fell asleep through some of it. I may continue with it today. I love this film so much and am eager to share it with others, but it's a tough sell, being that it's about 9 1/2 hours long. It also has subtitles, which is anathema to some.
Through Netflix, I received a documentary called "In Search of The English Folk Song". I had read about it in an article about June Tabor and it sounded like it'd be worthwhile. The description of it included "...by the acclaimed director, Ken Russell". I must have confused him with Ken Burns, because that's the type of documentary I was expecting. What I got instead was a low budget, Benny Hill type affair. Not expecting that. I fast forwarded until I got to June Tabor singing acappella. I'm a little afraid to watch any further.
It's off with me to McKinnon's to buy some chicken for the Greek dish I'll be making later on. At some point this weekend, I plan on watching Aronofsky's The Fountain, a movie I've yet to see for some reason. One thing I know about it: people either love it or hate it. Kind of like me.
Presently, I'm adding music to my iTunes library. This morning, I've added some Bert Jansch, Chris Bell, Beck, The Danielson Family, Belle & Sebastian, Devendra Banhart, The Incredible String Band, Mavin Gaye, and The Beatles. As you can see, I've been sticking to the early part of the alphabet. It's slow going, but I'm getting there. A pleasant task accompanied by the lazy sipping of warm coffee and songs on shuffle.
We got some snow last night, but a mere dusting it was. Still, it's a day that one would rather stay indoors. I've stated it numerous times, but I am not a fan of winter. No, sir. Alas, I look for it's bright spots, few as they are, and try to make the best out of it.
More awards.
Sign of The Apocalypse # 45
One word: Snookie.
Best Concert
I saw a few this year - Sufjan Stevens, Jonsi, and Rufus Wainwright - and each was very good, but Rufus's performance at The Opera House was truly sublime. And, as an added bonus, Spira and I spotted his sister, Martha, in the park before the show. We didn't approach her, but it was kind of cool seeing her for some reason.
Most Overused Phrase
This may mostly be coming from the sports media, but everyone, in reference to the future tense, says things like, "Moving forward, the team needs to focus on effort" or "Going forward, the coach needs to stop watching his players in the shower." As for me, moving forward, I'd like to see this phrase put to rest, or at the very least used a bit less. Let's mix it up a bit, people.
Moving forward.
I started watching The Human Condition last night, but I did so late and thus fell asleep through some of it. I may continue with it today. I love this film so much and am eager to share it with others, but it's a tough sell, being that it's about 9 1/2 hours long. It also has subtitles, which is anathema to some.
Through Netflix, I received a documentary called "In Search of The English Folk Song". I had read about it in an article about June Tabor and it sounded like it'd be worthwhile. The description of it included "...by the acclaimed director, Ken Russell". I must have confused him with Ken Burns, because that's the type of documentary I was expecting. What I got instead was a low budget, Benny Hill type affair. Not expecting that. I fast forwarded until I got to June Tabor singing acappella. I'm a little afraid to watch any further.
It's off with me to McKinnon's to buy some chicken for the Greek dish I'll be making later on. At some point this weekend, I plan on watching Aronofsky's The Fountain, a movie I've yet to see for some reason. One thing I know about it: people either love it or hate it. Kind of like me.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Blue, blue windows behind the stars
So the year ended before I could finish handing out awards, but I make the rules around here, so I'll be done when I'm done. I could keep going straight through the summer and no one will be able to stop me. Lucky for you, though, I plan on wrapping things up over the next couple of posts.
Favorite Book
There are two, both by Eckhart Tolle: The Power of Now and A New Earth. Maybe I'm cheating here, but let's consider them parts one and two of the same book. Tolle arrived in my life at just the right time. I had heard of The Power of Now, but didn't pursue it because I figured I'd done enough reading on the subject of living in the present moment. I'd gotten the gist long ago. Well, Tolle doesn't offer anything new to the subject, nor does he claim to. What he did, however, was write two masterpieces that nudge the reader from all angles to the reality that now is the only thing that matters. These books resonate with me strongly. No bullshit, no messiah complex; just plainly written truth. They have have, and still are, helping to wake up, to be more conscious. I am immensely grateful.
Favorite Website
When I discovered the Find Bigfoot page on Facebook, I realized immediately how effective this forum could be in Bigfoot research. The mission statement of the page is not to prove Bigfoot exists, but to study its morphology through photographs and video. The admins put a lot of work into the site breaking down film and audio and, while I don't always agree with their claims, I always find what they post interesting.
The Invisible Woman award
In the last two months, I have only seen Ella once. And I mean that literally - I only saw her as she left the house. No words were exchanged. An Ella sighting is strikingly similar to a Bigfoot sighting. And just as rare. I didn't think it was possible to see a roommate less than when Rich was living here. Must be the room.
Gone With The Wind award
Speaking of Rich, he moved out and headed to Colorado. His exit was bittersweet, heavy on the sweet, and it just isn't the same without him. And by that I mean there's no more wall slamming, loud and constant coughing, death metal, OCD behavior (see earlier posts concerning his obsession with putting plastic on the windows), shit on the floor (detailed in older posts - gross business, to be sure), and sneezes that sounded exactly like the phonetic rendering of a sneeze in print: Ahh...Chooo! There was all that, but Rich, for all his baggage, is a good guy and there were more than a few occasions when we had a good conversation. He's overcome a lot in his life and I respect him for that. I wish him well.
My Two Favorite Pups award
None other than Pooch Edward Bottoms and the lovely Missy. One could argue that I'm partial to Pooch Edward, and I suppose that's true - we are BFFs after all - but Missy girl melts me. She is Zen and a cutie pie to boot.
When these two met, it was amore, but when I brought Pooch Edward over to Spira's on Christmas Eve, they kept to themselves. Zico ripped to shred all of Missy's toys while Missy lay on her mat, wondering when this brute was going to learn some manners. Who knows, it's still possible they may get married someday and have a bunch of puppies.
--
Today was a challenge and, while I handled it well, I'm glad it's through. My indirect Christmas present from my grandmother, the DVD set of The Human Condition trilogy, arrived in the mail today and I'm excited to watch it. Not sure when or who with, but I'm excited, I tells ya!
Favorite Book
There are two, both by Eckhart Tolle: The Power of Now and A New Earth. Maybe I'm cheating here, but let's consider them parts one and two of the same book. Tolle arrived in my life at just the right time. I had heard of The Power of Now, but didn't pursue it because I figured I'd done enough reading on the subject of living in the present moment. I'd gotten the gist long ago. Well, Tolle doesn't offer anything new to the subject, nor does he claim to. What he did, however, was write two masterpieces that nudge the reader from all angles to the reality that now is the only thing that matters. These books resonate with me strongly. No bullshit, no messiah complex; just plainly written truth. They have have, and still are, helping to wake up, to be more conscious. I am immensely grateful.
Favorite Website
When I discovered the Find Bigfoot page on Facebook, I realized immediately how effective this forum could be in Bigfoot research. The mission statement of the page is not to prove Bigfoot exists, but to study its morphology through photographs and video. The admins put a lot of work into the site breaking down film and audio and, while I don't always agree with their claims, I always find what they post interesting.
The Invisible Woman award
In the last two months, I have only seen Ella once. And I mean that literally - I only saw her as she left the house. No words were exchanged. An Ella sighting is strikingly similar to a Bigfoot sighting. And just as rare. I didn't think it was possible to see a roommate less than when Rich was living here. Must be the room.
Gone With The Wind award
Speaking of Rich, he moved out and headed to Colorado. His exit was bittersweet, heavy on the sweet, and it just isn't the same without him. And by that I mean there's no more wall slamming, loud and constant coughing, death metal, OCD behavior (see earlier posts concerning his obsession with putting plastic on the windows), shit on the floor (detailed in older posts - gross business, to be sure), and sneezes that sounded exactly like the phonetic rendering of a sneeze in print: Ahh...Chooo! There was all that, but Rich, for all his baggage, is a good guy and there were more than a few occasions when we had a good conversation. He's overcome a lot in his life and I respect him for that. I wish him well.
My Two Favorite Pups award
None other than Pooch Edward Bottoms and the lovely Missy. One could argue that I'm partial to Pooch Edward, and I suppose that's true - we are BFFs after all - but Missy girl melts me. She is Zen and a cutie pie to boot.
When these two met, it was amore, but when I brought Pooch Edward over to Spira's on Christmas Eve, they kept to themselves. Zico ripped to shred all of Missy's toys while Missy lay on her mat, wondering when this brute was going to learn some manners. Who knows, it's still possible they may get married someday and have a bunch of puppies.
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Today was a challenge and, while I handled it well, I'm glad it's through. My indirect Christmas present from my grandmother, the DVD set of The Human Condition trilogy, arrived in the mail today and I'm excited to watch it. Not sure when or who with, but I'm excited, I tells ya!
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