Went for a run with Spira earlier this evening. It was a good one. We did close to three miles, which included a couple of steep hills, and probably could have gone more. I was really proud of Spira; she never complained once and she really pushed herself.
Even though winter is fast approaching, I'm planning on stepping up my game and significantly increasing my running distances. By spring, I hope to be ready to enter myself in a few races. Short ones, though. Baby steps, baby!
I've got things to do and I'm going to squash the bug that is this post. I thought to throw in my two cents regarding the election, but all my change is silver, which is to say I'd be writing all night -- can't do this thing small. Now, I know you feel like I've deprived you of something deep, significant, and abiding --- and I have---but, trust me, you don't want to hear it tonight. I'd be what the youngsters call a "buzz-kill" and I'm pretty sure you're still mid-coitus with your candidate du jour. No need for me to get involved.
Well, the C's are on and I've got laundry to do and some ice cream to eat. Cheers.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Remember it's true, dignity is valuable, but our lives are valuable too
A short post tonight. I'm about to finish watching Gates of Heaven, which so far is very good, and I want to hear the rest of Ted Gunderson's interview with Noreen Gosch that I started last night before I fell asleep. This means I don't have time to convey to you how boring my day was. Don't panic : I predict there will be plenty more like it.
Ann looked so pretty today that I was in danger of her catching me checking her out. You may think that on some level I wanted to get caught. And you would be correct, only that level is buried beneath the one labeled "chicken shit", which does not want Ann to have even the slightest notion that I'm into her. As evidenced by the fact that I've more than once secretly wished for my coworkers to realize that Ann and I would be a great couple and commence to playing matchmaker, I'm not too prideful to accept a helping hand, however. Who knows, it could happen. People love playing matchmaker.
Ok, I'm out. Told you it was going to be a short one.
Ann looked so pretty today that I was in danger of her catching me checking her out. You may think that on some level I wanted to get caught. And you would be correct, only that level is buried beneath the one labeled "chicken shit", which does not want Ann to have even the slightest notion that I'm into her. As evidenced by the fact that I've more than once secretly wished for my coworkers to realize that Ann and I would be a great couple and commence to playing matchmaker, I'm not too prideful to accept a helping hand, however. Who knows, it could happen. People love playing matchmaker.
Ok, I'm out. Told you it was going to be a short one.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Dreams are nothing more than wishes, and a wish is just a dream you wish to come true
I got to visit with "N" yesterday. She has been going through rehab and is living in a half way house in Worcester. She's there during the week and leaves on the weekends. Yesterday, Spira picked her up and brought her to Somerville. I met up with them in the afternoon at Spira's apartment. It was good seeing N; she looked healthy and was in good spirits.
Spira was going to drive her to her mom's place in Newburyport and N asked if I'd like to come along for the ride. I told her I'd be honored to, and N replied that we could make the drive naked. We all laughed and she told us that she had done that before when she was in her late teens and regaled us with the story. It bears repeating.
She had been in a car drinking with a few male friends behind a stadium one night. One of them suggested they take their clothes off and, thick with drink, they all did, thinking it was a brilliant idea. They were enjoying their nakedness when they saw someone staggering out of the woods towards the car.
When the figure got close, they saw that it was a woman with torn clothes and a bleeding mouth. In a panic, she told them she had just been raped by four guys in a van and barely escaped. As she told them her story, she realized that everyone was naked. She must have wondered, coming upon a stray car filled with three guys and one girl, and all of them nude, whether she had left one rape scene for another.
N ended up being a witness in the subsequent trial. It wasn't to be a smooth affair. One of the guys who was in the car with N had told the police an entirely different break down of events than N witnessed. When she asked him why he lied, he told her that the girl who got raped deserved it because she was a prostitute. He became the star witness for the defense.
To complicate matters even further, this guy's uncle happened to be one of the cops who investigated the rape. And both of them were friendly with the defendants, having grown up in the same town. Consequently, N was subjected to harassment by her so-called friend, his uncle, and numerous other friends of the defendants.
In the end, N stuck to her story and the accused each received a four year sentence. They got off easy. When they got of jail, N had the misfortune of running into a couple of them when she was waiting tables at a restaurant in a nearby town. They bullied and threatened her on more than one occasion.
Thinking back on the experience, N was amazed at how convoluted and bizarre the whole affair was. She concluded the story by telling us that the fact that she was in a car full of naked people was brought up by one the defense attorneys. And because the story had been picked up by the national media, the whole country, she laughed, knew about it.
N has led a very interesting life.
We drove her to mom's, said our goodbyes, and later, back at Spira's place, we talked for a bit before Spira kept nodding off during one of my riveting monologues. As she prepared for bed we made plans to meet up in the morning for a run.
I ended up staying up mega late reading from Top of the World, Peter May's new tome about the Celtic's improbable and triumphant season last year. I had bought the book earlier in the day and by the time I called it a night, I was almost finished reading it. Great book!
Daylight savings was my friend and gave me an extra hour to sleep this morning. After breakfast, I surfed the net for a bit over coffee and then, after finding out from Spira that she was going to get some groceries before our run, I did some laundry and started cleaning my room.
Our run was relaxed. I was energetic and really wanted to push it, but Spira wasn't feeling up to it. I ended up at various intervals running ahead and then back-tracking to Spira. This was a good compromise: I was able to add some vigor to the run while still managing to spend most of it with Spira, at her preferred pace. It's good having a running partner. We plan on doing it again in a couple of days.
I've noticed that whenever Spira introduces me to someone new, they'll always say something like "Oh, you're that Kevin! I've heard a lot about you." And often, when I'm present, she'll speak glowingly about me to whomever we're with. Sometimes it's a little embarrassing, but only because I don't want them to think I'm a cocky son-0f-a-bitch without any modesty, who not only only agrees with these sentiments, but perhaps even put Spira up to expressing them. But that's just me being squirmy. In the end, it illustrates to me what a good friend Spira is. The fact that, in spite of my shortcomings, she speaks of me with pride and affection, means a lot. So much, in fact, I have trouble putting it into words. I love her. Those three will have to suffice.
I had intended to set some goals today. Some short term, some long. I was set to put these goals into writing, but I never got around to it. I will, though, just not sure when. I was productive today, though, so I don't feel as if I was useless layabout.
With that, I'm signing off. I'm going to watch Errol Morris' Gates of Heaven, a documentary about people's attachments to their pets, or The Trials of Henry Kissinger. We'll see which one gets the call.
Spira was going to drive her to her mom's place in Newburyport and N asked if I'd like to come along for the ride. I told her I'd be honored to, and N replied that we could make the drive naked. We all laughed and she told us that she had done that before when she was in her late teens and regaled us with the story. It bears repeating.
She had been in a car drinking with a few male friends behind a stadium one night. One of them suggested they take their clothes off and, thick with drink, they all did, thinking it was a brilliant idea. They were enjoying their nakedness when they saw someone staggering out of the woods towards the car.
When the figure got close, they saw that it was a woman with torn clothes and a bleeding mouth. In a panic, she told them she had just been raped by four guys in a van and barely escaped. As she told them her story, she realized that everyone was naked. She must have wondered, coming upon a stray car filled with three guys and one girl, and all of them nude, whether she had left one rape scene for another.
N ended up being a witness in the subsequent trial. It wasn't to be a smooth affair. One of the guys who was in the car with N had told the police an entirely different break down of events than N witnessed. When she asked him why he lied, he told her that the girl who got raped deserved it because she was a prostitute. He became the star witness for the defense.
To complicate matters even further, this guy's uncle happened to be one of the cops who investigated the rape. And both of them were friendly with the defendants, having grown up in the same town. Consequently, N was subjected to harassment by her so-called friend, his uncle, and numerous other friends of the defendants.
In the end, N stuck to her story and the accused each received a four year sentence. They got off easy. When they got of jail, N had the misfortune of running into a couple of them when she was waiting tables at a restaurant in a nearby town. They bullied and threatened her on more than one occasion.
Thinking back on the experience, N was amazed at how convoluted and bizarre the whole affair was. She concluded the story by telling us that the fact that she was in a car full of naked people was brought up by one the defense attorneys. And because the story had been picked up by the national media, the whole country, she laughed, knew about it.
N has led a very interesting life.
We drove her to mom's, said our goodbyes, and later, back at Spira's place, we talked for a bit before Spira kept nodding off during one of my riveting monologues. As she prepared for bed we made plans to meet up in the morning for a run.
I ended up staying up mega late reading from Top of the World, Peter May's new tome about the Celtic's improbable and triumphant season last year. I had bought the book earlier in the day and by the time I called it a night, I was almost finished reading it. Great book!
Daylight savings was my friend and gave me an extra hour to sleep this morning. After breakfast, I surfed the net for a bit over coffee and then, after finding out from Spira that she was going to get some groceries before our run, I did some laundry and started cleaning my room.
Our run was relaxed. I was energetic and really wanted to push it, but Spira wasn't feeling up to it. I ended up at various intervals running ahead and then back-tracking to Spira. This was a good compromise: I was able to add some vigor to the run while still managing to spend most of it with Spira, at her preferred pace. It's good having a running partner. We plan on doing it again in a couple of days.
I've noticed that whenever Spira introduces me to someone new, they'll always say something like "Oh, you're that Kevin! I've heard a lot about you." And often, when I'm present, she'll speak glowingly about me to whomever we're with. Sometimes it's a little embarrassing, but only because I don't want them to think I'm a cocky son-0f-a-bitch without any modesty, who not only only agrees with these sentiments, but perhaps even put Spira up to expressing them. But that's just me being squirmy. In the end, it illustrates to me what a good friend Spira is. The fact that, in spite of my shortcomings, she speaks of me with pride and affection, means a lot. So much, in fact, I have trouble putting it into words. I love her. Those three will have to suffice.
I had intended to set some goals today. Some short term, some long. I was set to put these goals into writing, but I never got around to it. I will, though, just not sure when. I was productive today, though, so I don't feel as if I was useless layabout.
With that, I'm signing off. I'm going to watch Errol Morris' Gates of Heaven, a documentary about people's attachments to their pets, or The Trials of Henry Kissinger. We'll see which one gets the call.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
It's like a dream to be with you again
At Mara's place last night, we watched Jules & Jim until Obama's infomercial came on. On both counts, I was along for the ride. I've seen Jules & Jim before and didn't like it very much and, with all due respect to Obama, I've had more than my fill of him. The film was only slighter better this time around and Obama did his Obama thing, which is to say he was well-spoken, magnetic, and partial to the word change.
I could tell by her behavior that Mara had decided to curb her affection for me, which is probably not a bad idea. Several times throughout the night, if we were sitting or standing close to each other, she'd move away. I'm not sure if the distance will increase to the point where we no longer communicate, but I get the sense that it could go either way. It would be a shame if that were to happen. I really like Mara-- she is sweet and kind and deserves more than I can offer.
--
I ended up getting a few hundred smackers from the insurance company that represents the woman who bumped into my car last week. Not bad for a few scratches! I won't see a penny of it, however; all of it will be applied to bills. Still a fine feeling, coming into money.
--
Hey, FB! Are you done with MySpace, or what? If so, you better create an account on this site muy rapido and start posting. That is a direct order. Oh, and we need to be social soon. What d'ya say?
--
At work yesterday, Deb, and a few others, were discussing the poor condition of the ladies room. By the sound of it, the women of our building are a filthy, unsanitary lot. Aside from an occasional unflushed toilet, the men's bathroom isn't so bad. I've definitely seen worse. Like today. Today I saw worse.
When I got to work I had to pee. In the bathroom I approached one of the urinals and saw drops of blood in it's basin. Smartly, I moved to another urinal. Somebody was not in a good way, to be sure. Pissing blood or bleeding from the balls is no one's idea of fun.
--
Ellen was talking about going somewhere to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show this weekend. I told her not to. "I really, really dislike that movie", I added. "Makes me want to puke on my shoes just thinking about it." She was taken aback at my response, but it needed to be said. She'll still see the movie, I bet, but if she tells me she enjoyed it on any level, I will never, ever, speak to her again. I will, however, communicate with her in writing if need be. I'd finally be able to put the chalkboard I wear around my neck to good use.
I could tell by her behavior that Mara had decided to curb her affection for me, which is probably not a bad idea. Several times throughout the night, if we were sitting or standing close to each other, she'd move away. I'm not sure if the distance will increase to the point where we no longer communicate, but I get the sense that it could go either way. It would be a shame if that were to happen. I really like Mara-- she is sweet and kind and deserves more than I can offer.
--
I ended up getting a few hundred smackers from the insurance company that represents the woman who bumped into my car last week. Not bad for a few scratches! I won't see a penny of it, however; all of it will be applied to bills. Still a fine feeling, coming into money.
--
Hey, FB! Are you done with MySpace, or what? If so, you better create an account on this site muy rapido and start posting. That is a direct order. Oh, and we need to be social soon. What d'ya say?
--
At work yesterday, Deb, and a few others, were discussing the poor condition of the ladies room. By the sound of it, the women of our building are a filthy, unsanitary lot. Aside from an occasional unflushed toilet, the men's bathroom isn't so bad. I've definitely seen worse. Like today. Today I saw worse.
When I got to work I had to pee. In the bathroom I approached one of the urinals and saw drops of blood in it's basin. Smartly, I moved to another urinal. Somebody was not in a good way, to be sure. Pissing blood or bleeding from the balls is no one's idea of fun.
--
Ellen was talking about going somewhere to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show this weekend. I told her not to. "I really, really dislike that movie", I added. "Makes me want to puke on my shoes just thinking about it." She was taken aback at my response, but it needed to be said. She'll still see the movie, I bet, but if she tells me she enjoyed it on any level, I will never, ever, speak to her again. I will, however, communicate with her in writing if need be. I'd finally be able to put the chalkboard I wear around my neck to good use.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
It's the aim of existense, to offer resistance, to the flow of time
I got a little misty during the ring ceremony that preceded the Celtics game tonight. You may think I'm a Nancy, but when I saw Paul Pierce weeping openly as they handed out the rings, I couldn't help but get a little choked up. If it's a criminal act to be in tune with your emotions, than lock me the fuck up. Now, would Bogart or Mifune approve of my actions? Of course not ---I'd be less than human to them --- but they'd have to admit my display of emotion denotes sophistication and a quiet, abiding strength. And, anyway, they're dead so who cares what they think?
--
Rich has been avoiding me again. I don't think I'm being paranoid, but I'll let you be the judge. Last night I came downstairs and headed to the kitchen. I could hear Rich in there and, based on his frequent bouts of avoidance, I didn't expect I'd run into him. What I expected, and what happened, was him making a hasty retreat to his bedroom which is just off the kitchen. I only managed to catch a glimpse of him as he bolted into his room.
In the kitchen, I saw that he was boiling something on the stove. If he doesn't want what he's cooking to burn, he better get over what's making him hide from me because I've got some dishes to do and probably won't be through anytime soon, I thought. So I did my dishes, wondering all the while what he'd do.
After a few minutes went by, I felt bad --- I don't know exactly why he behaves this way, but I believe it has more to do with a general social anxiety than it does with me personally. So why play this game with him? I decided to throw out the trash, providing him a window of opportunity to gather his food in relative peace.
Outside, I saw through the window that Rich was in the kitchen, preparing his meal like a line cook on a hopping Saturday night. I confess to laughing at his expense, but just because I felt bad about his predicament didn't mean what I was watching wasn't funny. To give him a little extra time, I hung out in the driveway for a couple of minutes after the trash was thrown out. When I made it back inside, I heard the sound of his door closing. I imagined him on the other side of it, sliding to the floor in sweaty relief.
Another close call tonight. I don't think he heard me come down the stairs this time, because he really had to scramble to get into his room ( it's occurred to me that these encounters with Rich are not unlike ones I've had with squirrels and other skittish members of the animal kingdom). I was about five feet away from him as he faded into his room. I was so close! I felt like Roger Patterson.
Like last night, I had some dishes to do, but when I saw that in his haste, Rich had left behind his dinner (a Chicago-style pepperoni pizza --yum!), I abandoned the idea. No need to make another night's dinner an adventure, I thought.
After I finish with this, I'm going back down to the kitchen for a drink. I'm thinking I should bring a camera and some plaster in case I need to make casts of his tracks. No one will believe I saw him unless I provide proof.
Back to the Celtics. No tears, I promise.
--
Rich has been avoiding me again. I don't think I'm being paranoid, but I'll let you be the judge. Last night I came downstairs and headed to the kitchen. I could hear Rich in there and, based on his frequent bouts of avoidance, I didn't expect I'd run into him. What I expected, and what happened, was him making a hasty retreat to his bedroom which is just off the kitchen. I only managed to catch a glimpse of him as he bolted into his room.
In the kitchen, I saw that he was boiling something on the stove. If he doesn't want what he's cooking to burn, he better get over what's making him hide from me because I've got some dishes to do and probably won't be through anytime soon, I thought. So I did my dishes, wondering all the while what he'd do.
After a few minutes went by, I felt bad --- I don't know exactly why he behaves this way, but I believe it has more to do with a general social anxiety than it does with me personally. So why play this game with him? I decided to throw out the trash, providing him a window of opportunity to gather his food in relative peace.
Outside, I saw through the window that Rich was in the kitchen, preparing his meal like a line cook on a hopping Saturday night. I confess to laughing at his expense, but just because I felt bad about his predicament didn't mean what I was watching wasn't funny. To give him a little extra time, I hung out in the driveway for a couple of minutes after the trash was thrown out. When I made it back inside, I heard the sound of his door closing. I imagined him on the other side of it, sliding to the floor in sweaty relief.
Another close call tonight. I don't think he heard me come down the stairs this time, because he really had to scramble to get into his room ( it's occurred to me that these encounters with Rich are not unlike ones I've had with squirrels and other skittish members of the animal kingdom). I was about five feet away from him as he faded into his room. I was so close! I felt like Roger Patterson.
Like last night, I had some dishes to do, but when I saw that in his haste, Rich had left behind his dinner (a Chicago-style pepperoni pizza --yum!), I abandoned the idea. No need to make another night's dinner an adventure, I thought.
After I finish with this, I'm going back down to the kitchen for a drink. I'm thinking I should bring a camera and some plaster in case I need to make casts of his tracks. No one will believe I saw him unless I provide proof.
Back to the Celtics. No tears, I promise.
Monday, October 27, 2008
I don't know if I'm an actor or ham, a shaman or sham
Standard Operating Procedure was fantastic. When it ended, I watched it again with Errol Morris' commentary. The film is comprised mostly of interviews with several of the soldiers who were prosecuted for their roles in the humiliation of Iraqi detainees at Abu Grahib.
Like everyone else, I was disgusted when I first saw the leaked photographs. What Morris does in this film, is show how it's possible to have a moral compass and still commit or bear witness to inhumane acts. These soldiers, who were following orders like soldiers are supposed to do, served time while the people in the upper echelons of the military who had given the orders were not even investigated. Another cover-up to add to the growing list.
--
I got a message the other day from someone at the insurance company that represents the woman who hit my car. He wanted to know what type of damage it incurred in the accident. After realizing that I might be able to get some money out of this, I called him back today. Someone will be coming by to take a look at my car in the next few days.
--
Was thinking of throwing a Halloween party, but it's a little late for that, I think. I'm looking ahead to November and a party in honor of Danny DeVito's birthday, which falls on the 17th, sounds pretty good to me.
Like everyone else, I was disgusted when I first saw the leaked photographs. What Morris does in this film, is show how it's possible to have a moral compass and still commit or bear witness to inhumane acts. These soldiers, who were following orders like soldiers are supposed to do, served time while the people in the upper echelons of the military who had given the orders were not even investigated. Another cover-up to add to the growing list.
--
I got a message the other day from someone at the insurance company that represents the woman who hit my car. He wanted to know what type of damage it incurred in the accident. After realizing that I might be able to get some money out of this, I called him back today. Someone will be coming by to take a look at my car in the next few days.
--
Was thinking of throwing a Halloween party, but it's a little late for that, I think. I'm looking ahead to November and a party in honor of Danny DeVito's birthday, which falls on the 17th, sounds pretty good to me.
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