I look pretty young, but I'm just back dated

I finally had my car looked at today. For months my brake light had been going every time I stopped, and lately it pretty much stayed on all the time. I never got it looked at because I feared it would cost me more than I could afford. Based on performance, it seemed I would need new brakes, which wouldn't come cheap. I couldn't wait any longer, though. I at least had to have a mechanic diagnose the problem.

Fortunately, there's a garage right next to where I work, so I was able to have them look at my car without missing out on any pay. All day, I did my best to keep focus on the work at hand, but my thoughts kept straying to nightmarish scenarios concerning my car. What if they tell me it's much more than my brakes, that I'm better off getting a new car? What if the bill runs in the thousands?

I got the call around two thirty and was told there was a hole in the brake line and brake fluid had gotten everywhere. I needed new shoes and a couple of other parts I can't recall the names of. My cost: $ 180.00. I couldn't believe it. I can't remember the last time I've payed less than four hundred dollars for repairs. Still, I'm a poor son of a bitch, and $ 180.00 is still a lot of money for me to be spending, but it could have been much, much worse. I came out on top, son!

Now that I share an office with Therese, I'm starting to get a little annoyed with her. Only a little, though: I don't think I could ever get past that stage of mild annoyance. She's so nice. Anyway, what I've found annoying is that almost every day she says something to the effect of " I can't believe it's three o'clock already! Where does the time go? There aren't enough hours in the day." And when it's nearing the end of the month, she'll say something like "I can't believe it's almost October." I usually don't respond beyond the occasional "Yes, time does fly" or some other lame response, but every so often I feel like I should sit her down and explain the nature of time, so that in the future it won't be such a surprise to her when it passes. But, I could never do that to sweet Therese. As I said, she's nice. Yet, she can be annoying. I guess we'll just have to see how this unfolds. We may be looking at a cage match down the road.

After work, I did some yoga and went for a run. I came home and made a salad with about fifty ingredients. I'm pretty beat and I think I'm going to get my clothes out of the dryer, take a nice, long, soak, and relax the rest of the night.

In the wee small hours of the morning

A long day. I just got home (it's about 9:30) and I'm beat. So beat, I'm going to make this one short. I want to curl up in bed and read from Abraham and David Ray Griffin's 9/11 Contradictions: An Open Letter To Congress And The Press. I've had the book for a while -- read only about a quarter of it and put it away, though not because it wasn't riveting, but for some distracting reason I can't bring to mind. Anyway, I'm full throttle with it.

I faxed so much shit at work today -- had to hand feed each individual page, which numbered in the hundreds and hundreds -- I'm certain I'm going to dream about it in some twisted manifestation or other. I'll be at it again in a few days. Not so bad and kind of fun if it you treat it like a game.

Went to my parents after work for dinner and computer training. I figured out, well mostly, how to use their new printer/scanner. My parents are definitely not ready to handle 98% of its fuctions, but they're okay with that; as long as they can print, they're happy. And by they, I mean my mother; my dad's interest level isn't that high.

I've got to get my car serviced soon. It's getting to the point where I'm scared to drive it. It's been a trooper, but it needs some help.

Anyway, let's move on to something that makes me very happy, one of the best snacks I've ever had. An ex-friend of mine turned me on to them. I was skeptical, but once I gave them a try, I was in a state of ecstasy, the likes of which I'd never, ever, experienced before. Ok, I'm engaging in hyperbole, but I'm telling you, I love these little devils, and maybe you do to. If you haven't tried them yet, you owe it to yourself to stuff this yummy and healthy (I think) snack down your gullet. And, I don't know if this will sway you one way or the other, but it's rumored that Bonus Jonas is a big fan.I've got to finish this; this website is making things difficult. Wonder if this will post.

He was due home yesterday, but he aint here

In the dream I was with someone I can't name here. We were sitting together and she made an advance, which delighted me to no end once the surprise wore off. How she made her intentions known, I'll leave to your imagination, but it did the trick. She explained this new dynamic in our relationship by telling me she wanted to see me happy. I did too, and obliged her. About thirty seconds into it, I felt the urge to pee. Better do it now and get it out of the way, I thought (Don't do it!). I had a faint notion she'd be gone when I came back, but I shrugged it off, told her I'd be right back, and headed to the bathroom (Turn back! Turn back! She will be gone if you don't!).

So, just like every other dream with the same plot, I went off to the bathroom, got distracted by all sorts of shit upon my exit, struggled to find my way back to the room and woke up before that could happen. This time, though, I knew I was going to wake up, and tried to hurry my progress, but to no avail. I woke up.

I tried to re-enter the dream, but that's a near impossible feat. I knew it, but tried anyway. You've got to try. I did, however, have another dream, almost as sexy, with her in it. And another a while later. All three were intimate and warm. Why am I dreaming about her?

I felt like tearing through my skin today at work. I don't know if it had to do with being denied sexual pleasure, and cruelly so, in the dream, or if the multitudinous negative aspects of my life had decided I'd gone too long not feeling overwhelmed. I did my best to get through it, but it wasn't easy. It was not easy.

I went for a run after work and made a salad for dinner. I plan on doing some yoga soon. Hopefully, these measures will go a ways in counteracting the blues.

The arbitrary:

I'm listening to madrigals on Pandora. I love madrigals. Bet you didn't know that about me.

Here's some unsolicited advice: Beware the Obama cult of personality. Getting scary out there.

I've managed to see portions of all three Patriots games this season. I find, because of the welter of commercials in any given game, I'm able to get a lot of reading done. One minute I'll be stalking the streets of Machi, Abraham's winter city, and the next I'll be watching Belichek frown on the sidelines.

During my run, I spent some time thinking about Bare Naked Ladies and whether I'd listen to them over Jimmy Buffet, if forced to make the choice. With a shudder, I thought that I would. I hope I never have to make that choice, because either way, I'll be miserable. Shoot, let me reconsider."If I Had A Million Dollars" has got to be worse than anything Jimmy Buffet ever put out. It's just got to.

On a similar note, here are some of my relationship deal breakers:

1. If she's a fan of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Even if she likes it only a little, I can't abide that.

2. Same goes for the aforementioned Buffet and BNL.

3. Doesn't appreciate Herzog or Kurosawa. Okay, that sounds snooty, but I really like those two and if she didnt, well, golly, I don't know what I'd do.

4. Wears crocs. They are so gross. Yeah, I hear they're comfortable. Wear slippers if you want comfort, son! Enough with the crocs, already!

5. Wears those gross ballet slippers more than once a month. I just don't get them. Not flattering. No, sir.

Okay, time to get on the mat.

Eyes wide open, naked as we came

Matt Stone, on Bill Simmon's podcast, made me break out in applause. He was talking about how needy Harley riders are. He opined that their bikes are so eardrum-pulverizingly loud because they want everyone to look at them. They may as well wear neon signs around their necks that flash " HEY EVERYONE, LOOK AT ME. PLEASE!", he said. Couldn't agree more. And then he wondered how many conversations and thoughts a Harley disrupts driving down the streets of New York City. Thousands, he figured. In the span of seconds. All because of some needy ass hole.

I suppose we're all needy in our own ways, to varying degrees, and, no, I don't believe all Harley riders on their their noise machines are needy -- only about 98%, I figure -- but I thought that was an astute observation by Mr. Stone. I wonder how many other people find Harleys oppressingly loud. I know there are different models, and some are more loud than other, but in my experience at least, most of them are pretty fucking loud.

Someone told me they make them that way as a safety precaution; if the bike is loud, people, drivers and pedestrians alike, will be aware of its presence and, consequently, accidents will be less likely to occur. I'm not sure I'm entirely on board with that notion, true or not. For one thing, they're so fucking loud that they're probably more likely to cause an accident than prevent one. For the latter to occur, one must have his bearings about him (or her bearings about her -- let's not be sexist). There's a reason why people listen to soft, pleasant music and not the beastly roar of a Harley when they want to relax.

Stone said they're making a South Park episode about the topic, and he's actually kind of nervous he'll offend some Hell's Angel and get beat eight ways to Sunday. In the interest of preserving my own skin, though I find it extremely unlikely members of the Hell's Angels read this blog, I'll state for the record that, despite my having my world tossed around like a seal at the mercy of a pod of Killer Whales, every time a Harley rides within a two mile radius of where I am, I think they'd be pretty cool to ride. Well, at least the less noisy ones.

Oh, and about those Killer Whales.

Top Facts about Killer Whales

1. Killer Whales are one of the fastest creatures in the sea, traveling up to 30 miles per hour.
   
2. Killer Whales are able to control the flow of blood to their hearts and brains, which keeps them from suffering from a lack of oxygen when they are deep underwater.
   
3. killer Whales eat up to 5% of their body weight each day. This averages out to over 500 pounds of food for each Orca.
   
4. Killer Whales do most of their socialization within their own pods. However, pods do socialize with other pods as well.
   
5. When breeding, Killer Whales do not breed with relatives. They only breed with killer whales that are not closely related to them within their own pods.

I'd say no.'s 1 and 3 are where me and Killer Whales are most alike.
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More Herzog tonight? Maybe. I watched The Enigma Of Kaspar Hauser with her last night. She fell asleep through it but professed to enjoy the bits she saw. I didn't tell her it was sacrilege falling asleep through a Herzog film, but my murderous eyes and quivering lip said as much, I'm sure. So, maybe I'll watch a film of his tonight.

Maybe I'll shower. I still feel loose from the yoga I did earlier in the day; maybe a soak will make me even looser. Too bad I don't Twitter, or tweet, as it were. Otherwise, I'd let you know from the shower how it was going. You know, so you wouldn't have to wait any longer than necessary to hear the results.

I've got a feeling, a feeling I can't hide

One thing gets fixed, another goes faulty. It's the way it is sometimes. With the guidance from Mike, I was able to rid my computer of the spyware that had hijacked it. I've learned my lessons from watching horror movies, though, and am not quite ready to slip into the comfort of believing the monster is really gone. Still, I'm thrilled at the absence of pop-ups and the little pucker sound that seemed to emit from nowhere every thirty seconds. And, I'm thrilled I didn't have to shell out a bunch of bills for some anti-spyware software like I thought I was going to have to do. Thanks, Mike!

So, the spyware is gone and, completing the thought I began the post with, some other pain in the ass issue crops up in its place. And that issue is my Netflix account, or more particularly, the credit card I'd been using to pay for it. I just received notification from Netflix that it couldn't access my credit card. Hmm, I thought, I know I've got credit, what's this all about? After some investigating, I discovered my account had been canceled. Not because of lack of payment or anything I did, but because "the program" had ended. I hadn't been aware I was on a program. Guess I should of read the fine print in my contract. A new program will begin in October, I learned, at which time I will be issued a new card. Man, I really should have read the fine print.

I have another card I could use for Netflix, but that one has its own issues that need to be cleared up before I do. What a drag! I was just getting into watching Dexter on Instant Watch. Oh, well, things could be worse. Like my car, for example. Best not to even go there, lest I give myself a headache.
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Last weekend, I was taking a walk with Janelle and she commented that Rich was up to his old tricks again. I didn't know what she was talking about. "Oh, I thought you heard him last night. You had come home and were playing your guitar and I heard Rich at the bottom of the stairs yell "Quiet!!".

I had thought I was past this nonsense with Rich. Like always, I would have been happy to stop playing if he had knocked on my door or called me on my cell and asked me to. It's the yelling I can't abide; I've told him that before and he had professed to agree. It was not my intention to keep anyone up and, though I was trying to play softly, I can't always tell how the sound will travel. This yelling business was uncalled for and I wondered if drastic measures were going to have to be taken.

I was pissed and determined I absolutely had to talk to him about the incident immediately. A week or more leading up to it, he had been wholly unapproachable, he stayed hidden in his room and avoided contact with his roommates as much as possible. He's a study in avoidance. However it played out, I had to talk to him, no matter how isolated he had made himself.

When we got back to the house, I knocked on Rich's door. My anger had abated to the point where I wanted the confrontation to be civil, with an outcome agreeable to each of us. I hoped for the best as he opened his door.

I began by telling him I was sorry if I had kept him up the night before, that, even though I thought he was still up because it was a weekend night, I tried playing softly.

"Oh, you didn't keep me up. I slept through the night", he said.

"Well, I heard you yelled up the stairs for me to be quiet."

He squirmed a little. "Uh, well, yeah, uh maybe I did. I must have been half-asleep when I did it."

Oh, please.

"Well, if it happens again that I'm being too loud, could you just call me or knock on my door? I'd appreciate that. I don't respond very well to being yelled at."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I should get a grip on those outbursts. No problem. I'll call you or knock on your door, like you said."

The tone of the conversation was light, despite what was being said, and at the end of it, I felt really good. I had asserted myself, said what needed to be said, without making matters worse. I think Rich appreciated that. I told him again it's never my intention to keep anyone up and if I do, I will take measures to be quiet.

Who knows if he'll have another outburst -- the odds suggest he will -- but for now, I'm happy we worked things out diplomatically.
--
I smell a Werner Herzog marathon coming. It's about time; the man just has a way about expressing the inexpressible that scratches me where I itch.

Enough of me. I'm off to enjoy the day.

Jumping up, falling down, don't misunderstand me

For whatever reason, I haven't been able to access this site, or, to be more particular, my blog, over the last several days. I thought it had to do with some spyware that hijacked my computer around the same time, but Janelle, on her Mac, was having the same problem. Neither of us could access our Hotmail or Google accounts. Weird. Anyway, just like that, we've regained access. We've wondered why we haven't heard about others who've experienced the same issue. Hmmm.

Anyway, I know you've missed me terribly and your life has become unstructured as a result of my absence. For that I apologize, but, as I explained, it was beyond my control. I've got a little bit of catching up to do, but not tonight. It's getting late and I'm pretty beat. Luke Warm and I just finished practicing and I'm dying to get back to Abraham's An Autumn War, which I just started reading the other day. This is the penultimate book in the quartet and so far it's really good and, if the reviews are any indication, looks to be a lot more epic in scope than the two books that preceded it.

Tomorrow is Friday and I'm glad. I have no plans yet, but I'm sure some will take shape. Ciao!

You grabbed my hand and we fell into it, like a day dream, or a fever

Could have used another hour of sleep this morning -- went to bed pretty late last night -- but Steve, my neighbor who likes to make a lot of noise outside when people are trying to sleep, made a lot of noise outside while I was trying to sleep. He woke me up with a loud spraying sound. It took me several seconds to get my bearings and figure out where the WHSSSSSHHHHH WHSSSSHHHHH was coming from. Fucking prick -- I was having a good dream, too.

Real quick, especially because it's old news at this point, I'll wrap up the post wherein I made a solemn promise to describe my visits with my parents and Luke Warm the other day. I'm sure you've been all squirmy in anticipation.

My parent's house. I made a surprise visit and they seemed pleased to see me. Probably as pleased as I was to see them. It had been a while since we last saw each other. My intention was to make it a quick visit because Luke Warm and I were going to have dinner before we practiced, but it wasn't meant to be.

My mom had lots of computer questions, so we trekked upstairs and I addressed them. As I showed her different applications on the computer, I noticed her disposition regarding it had changed considerably from the agitated and confused one she had previously worn. Now, she was eager to learn and smiled throughout the whole tutorial. Part of that, I think, had to do with having her son in the room with her ( often, out of the corner of my eye, I'd catch her looking at me lovingly), but another, and greater, part, had to do with her having reached a level of comfort with the computer. I showed her YouTube and Hulu; she adored the sites immediately. Progress.

I was happy to help out. I realized that I'm much more resourceful when I'm helping them out on their computer, than I am trying to figure stuff out on my own. Probably because I need to be when I'm helping them out, otherwise, because they're neophytes, their concerns won't get addressed. I'm all they've got in that department. Well, that's not entirely true -- my mom's coworkers have been offering guidance -- but you get the idea.

After fooling around on Hulu for a bit, I saw that it was getting late. Better leave. We went downstairs and, as I was saying my goodbyes, I saw that my dad had the TV stand pulled away from the wall, cables unplugged from their devices and pointing everywhere, looking like a post-modern Medusa.

He didn't say anything about it, but my mom did. She looked at him and said, "Oh, you wanted Kevin to help you with the TV", and then, to me, "Would you mind?"

"Not at all", I replied sincerely.

I won't get into what needed to be done over at the TV because it's pretty convoluted. I helped as best I could; time will tell whether I was successful. I think my parents, like many others of their generation, long for the days of simpler technology, when the only thing you really needed to fiddle with on the TV was the rabbit ears.

I made it to Luke Warms late, but not too late. He made me a delicious rice-based meal and then we got about the business of rehearsing. Presently, Luke Warm is staying with his dad and being at the house was like being in a time warp. Since high school, it was where our friends used to congregate. Luke Warm's dad let our bands rehearse in the basement. Ahh, the good old days.

I say it was like being in a time warp because the house, if it has been changed in any way, it has been only slightly. As Luke Warm and I played in the living room, I'd occasionally find myself reminiscing about the past, about the good times we had there. Long ago, but right at the fingertips, too. Strange, time --does it even exist? Whatever it's nature, Wolf had it right: you can't go home again.
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Saw Life As A House with Mara the other night. Pretty good, but uneven. Kind of like a made for TV movie, but slightly edgier. Good cast: Kevin Kline, Kristen Scott Thomas, Jenna Malone, Scott Bakula, Haydn Christianson, Mary Steenbergen (who had a nice little nude scene and, damn, woman!--age hasn't had it's way with you yet).

Also got to watch the season premier of The Office yesterday. Laughed my ass off. Hope the rest of the season goes as well.

Some time today I plan on watching Knowing, a film I've been eager to see ever since it came out. Looking forward to it.

Almost through with Abraham's A Betrayal In Winter. I might pick up the next installment tomorrow. I've really been enjoying his writing. Might take a little break, though, and give some love to The Pillars Of The Earth, a book I haven't read from in a couple of weeks.

Yoga today? We'll see. I'd like to, but it may not be feasible. It's a good day for it. Sundays and yoga are a great pairing.

Ok, now Steve is painting the side of his house and is blasting talk radio. Am I going to have to choke a bitch?

Stay tuned.