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.

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.

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!

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'.

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."

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.

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.