Glade of the King

Desperation

2010-07-12T23:09:00.000-05:00

In the darkest depths of desperation cavern
men with purpose shine like beacons
though they reek of blood and bowel

These desperate men may be found near bottom
though the fight within may see the top
of whatever challenge piles upon them

Driven and most desperately hoping to feel
they rise and rise again looking for
success to rise from such fallow field.

Mental Illness

2010-07-04T23:01:00.000-05:00

Does the fact that I hate everyone around me make me crazy? At what point can you decide that the people around you deserve to be hated? Is that mental Illness? They continuously do rude uncharitable inconsiderate things and I get more and more tired of them.. Wanting them to be as grown up as I have to be when they are older than me? Does that make me crazy for despising and loathing them?

At what point do my feelings become normal instead of every instant of my growing anger being more and more wrong with me?

Does anyone here care about what my feelings are around here? When SHE says of her daughter: She is slow and easily distracted and plans too much and whatever you can't be mad at her for that... Is that true? I always thought if someone is late to meet you, late for supper late for pick-up late in general it shows a lack of respect for the person you're showing up late to. When you have a job interview you make sure you're not late because you know it will cost you the job. How is that different when someone gives you a dinner time and you show up late? Sure it doesn't cost you a job but does it show any respect for the one who sweats and labors over making a tasty dinner?

I am under the assumption that everyone who lives with me thinks I have a mental illness, Does that make them right? Can't we assume until proven otherwise that her children take advantage of me? They eat the food I make without thanks, they show up late for dinners they have asked me to cook!

I hate this, all of this and all the little things that travel along with this.
I don't think I'm crazy I'm just unhappy.
They're rude but I need to be on Prozak?

This is getting me nowhere

2010-06-29T06:06:00.000-05:00

Still working on the books, slowly. Drank last night, half a bottle of red wine and barely hung over this morning. Woke up at 3:30am haven't been able to fall back asleep due to waves of anxiety and depression. I realized tonight that my father at my age had a house a car and 6 children already. I wonder why I don't feel older, or more mature. Maybe it's normal but I still don't feel ready for children. If men have biological clocks though mines chiming away like mad. I think I really do want to have at least one child, but not yet. I can't until I can make something of myself. I don't make enough money now, and I really need to focus (Much more than I have been) on getting several of the books I've written published. Then at least I won't feel like an utter failure. I can convince myself that these first 34 years have just been me learning people, getting to know the world and understand interactions. Ha! Don't think I'll drink again soon. Can't abide such deeply emotional nights when I'm up and alone. My mind is sometimes unkind.

A week later a mom shorter

2010-06-19T21:02:00.000-05:00

Well Mom's on her way back home tomorrow is down with her brother today. Blues picnic in the parc today, no work done on my book but did do a lot of writing on possibly the next one. Have decided I need to print out a copy of my book in a format where I can read through it and make corrections or improvements while at work. Since I cannot take my laptop into work I need to find a new way to possibly work on my most active and urgent book, instead of always moving forward with writing other ones.

Mum's the word

2010-06-14T08:07:00.000-05:00

Mom's in town. Any excuse not to get work done right? I know we're poor right now but was it bad I took today off work? I didn't think so until I saw the incredulous look and she said "you're not going to work tomorrow either?" Then it doesn't bother her on her days off that I leave work after an hour to come home and take her shopping. Oh well I learn a lot about tension between different women when my mother comes to visit. This is only the second time to this house, god knows how my sisters will be when they come out next since I'm sure they'll have made up their minds about how to act here before they get here. I was much happier in my ignorance, I usually had more than one woman around (Girls really I was still a teen back then) I was oblivious to their interaction, saw their snarls and glares and was able to completely ignore them. Now anchored in a strong relationship every one of those glares is a tempest, on sweet sounding false word between the women sends rolls and crests deep into my future. Already I must plan for the next visit, keep these two separate, don't mention this or that. Aching eyeteeth batman! I never had to watch what I said before. I am not a gossip but if you say something , repeat something and some woman looks at you with a prefatory gleam in her eye as if she'd just seen a three legged wildebeest run behind you, Shut your mouth and never return to the subject! These innocent recollections feed the small fires of feminine jealousy and spite creating holocausts of bruised feelings and future enmity, I thought men were the territorial and jealous ones.
So as I said Mom's in town and I'd better watch my tongue around the little woman, and in reverse around my mother.

fool and far between

2010-06-12T09:02:00.000-05:00

Silly I guess to think that I would be able to come back to writing all the time on my blog. I spend about 3 hours everyday handwriting and try to get 2 to 3 hours of typing in converting my chicken-scratch to digital text. After that it's unrealistic to think I might want to write here too, but I want to try. So starting at least a once a week writing update.

This week: wrote a triumphant 7,000 word grand climax to Carolyn's Adventure, still unsure on what title to use, have absolutely no ideas. I need to find an impartial reader to proof for me, the people I know think of reading as some sort of slow torture, maybe if I film myself turning the pages, mix in pictures of pretty people. Oh well, not finished in any case, still have post climax slowdown to write, the happy ever after. Then I need to continue my progress through updating my verb usage, some of my early writing on this story is really passive. I was in story telling mode, more interested in getting the story and the various ideas I was juggling together in one place and I think my action scenes suffered somewhat.

On Josey and Glen, also need a real title, I've got to start thinking on this subject earlier, I've been done with the full rough draft for over a month now. It's too short right now 55,000 words, and a little too racy. Not really shooting for young reader I know I never would have read anything back in my teens that was dumbed down and emotion-ed up like some of those are. It's really amazing theres such a market for it, but I guess theres a lot of young readers wanting to get into fantasy without the heavy complication of classic epic fantasy. But it's a little to R rated, kind of takes over the story, also shortens it quite a bit if you take out all the romance and early relationship struggles and jump straight to sex.

Fried and True

2010-06-05T12:07:00.000-05:00

Those were some of the worst excuses for not writing I've ever come up with. Not that I would tell you what they were, they'r e the type of excuse which only sounds good in your head. Saying them out loud reveals how witless and weak they really are. Far worse than the dog ate it or a pack of rabid kindergarteners stole it from me after viciously beating at me around the knees.

Got a lust for life...lust for life..

2010-05-26T21:04:00.000-05:00

Never liked Iggy Pop but sometimes I gotta respect his lyrics. Is self destructive behavior character building? Will I stop stalling sometime soon? These questions and more will be answered in our next exciting episode..

Soulful sunday

2010-05-23T17:36:00.000-05:00

Reached 40k words in my current almost ready for production novel. Beginning to wonder what my title should be, or if I need to change the Character names.. Or if I need to go back and rethink my entire idea and development of that story line, because honestly I've only re-written this entire thing once. Maybe if I rewrite it again I can sell the original as a completely separate book.

Oh well still only a little more than halfway through. We'll have to see what happens.

Hating the rage waves

2010-05-22T15:59:00.000-05:00

Like riding a surfboard right up into the rocks and pylons. You feel it going wrong, steering slowed and just starts you spinning but you are already in the current. There's no way to avoid those jagged enemies of your skin, all the frantic paddling now will only tire your arms, you need them fresh if you're just about to try to swim out from under the raging white water. Already your knees, your prominent ankle bones are scraped and raw, something floating in the water rasps against you gone before you realize it was ground you might orient on because you're tumbling end over end bouncing the hard parts of yourself, gouging the soft. Anyone near you at this point will suffer the same fate you can;t help but to lash out drag them down with you because this deep into the powerful current there's nothing but instinct and terror.

The doctor says this simple pill can fix this, this condition I don't remember having before I took the pills. I was always a little manic, always a deep black funk waiting to happen, but was I ever this lost? Example was moving my stuff and the powercord on my laptop caught the corner of the table. Irritated I back up and while freeing it I drop my laptop, now I'm not even angry so much as terrified and tears form in my eyes, I don't even dare open it yet because as soon as I pick it up I want to throw it as hard as I can for daring to fall. I want to bite through the godd@mn power cord for daring to get stuck. I want to curl up and die because it's easier for me than crying. I take my pills again and in a half hour my girlfriend dares to talk to me again because I'm like a wounded animal at theses times and I'll snap at anyone.

Friday, planting day.

2010-05-21T19:27:00.000-05:00

Planted vegetable seeds and some various flowering plant seeds today. My first official garden i won't run to hide if the police knock on my door. Not too sure what I'll do with all the vegetables but I think my girlfriend and other roommates might eat them.
Have not worked on my writing at all today, was busy all morning and waited until 3pm to eat something. Then I ate too much, so now I'm drowsy and lazy. Huh, only 5 more and a pretty girl away from being a classic, go figure..

3 years gone by..

2010-05-20T14:27:00.000-05:00

Wow! Three years since my last post. Can't believe this is still here.
Hmm...Updates? Is anyone still reading? I doubt it, but I need the extra motivation this might give me. Writing my goals in public will make them more solid.

So in the past three years I have a new job I've been at over a year now. I have written 7 complete books in pen and ink in a large stack of notebooks. I have completely typed 1 1/3 , but the one I have typed has issues, so I benched it to work on the second one until I can find a way to bridge the mess I made in the middle of the first. I have quit drinking for almost an entire year, so the drunken poetry fits have been replaced with sober poetry fits. I make more sense, but it is less exciting since I know what the poem says when I write it, not the next morning.

The job I have now allows me to write for several hours every day, but I can't type any of it so it's all going into notebooks. I switched from bic pens to calligraphy dip pens to fountain pens which are my new favorite. This post is so boring it is no wonder I avoided coming back to this.

bad drunken poem, though it does rhyme somewhat

2007-09-26T19:44:00.001-05:00

Let me hear your voice ringing deep down in my core.
Something of your voice touches places ne'er seen before.
Let me feel the tickle of your laughter in my pants some more.

God I'm sucha pervert but I can't stop thinking of,
places that I would like to have lubricated latex glove
When we are together I see the heights of heaven above.

Never let it be said that I'm an unfulfilled whore
I like sex, I like porn, bet you couldn't tell before.
let me touch you in some place that makes you cry out more.

Then you'll see the real me all wrapped up in latex wow!
Like a giant dildo, ready to get up in your privates now!
I'll make you scream, make you shout this poem sucks, and how..

A year later.

2006-11-14T09:39:00.000-06:00

It took a year to get this blog back online. So many things have changed, and lucky for any readers it's well documented on other blogs.. I'm fond of this one, so I will continue here.
How do you know if you're clinically depressed? Recently my own thoughts have been disturbing to me, and at least twice I can recall having vivid imaginings of seeking psychiatric help, what I would say ask of them, possible remedies to my condition... Anyway cries for help? From myself? Well I guess this blog makes three officially. I feel safer of course having this blog dormant for over a year. One birthday to another really. Hopefully anyone who knows me has stopped checking. If not, could this be cry for help # four? I am just so unhappy sometimes I stop and say to myself.."Where is this coming from?" I can't locate a physical cause, yet I get so pent up and angry for no reason.. Slam cupboard doors if my coffee cup is on the wrong shelf, even when I put it there. Then there's the outbursts of definitely unmanly emotion. During too happy movies, or, of course) sad movies, I get weepy, tear up and choke back my big womanly sobs.. Or at least that's what I feel like. Even TV serials can tug at these phantom heartstrings once in a while.. Ever cried at an episode of Angel? Or Scrubs? I have, and it's not pretty watching the fat bald guy cry.. This year I have broken a foot, and put on 25 pounds. I have sprained my back (very recently) thus the restart of the writing. Still going to work though. They don;t have much for me to do with the restrictions I have, but it's still better than letting me sit home and recuperate.. Anyway the self pity in this entry is starting to gag me. Cry for help number five.. Still counting and wondering.. Anyone know the signs of clinical depression? Can I self diagnose and treat said depression?

Back from beyond

2005-10-30T17:52:00.000-06:00

So I have recovered use of the internet.
I am now of the Blue collar working class having given up my desk for the pleasure of toil, sweat, and a new respect for myself as a man. I had doubts about being able to handle such intense manual labor, though myself a little too softened by the years I sat bound to a desk (not for pleasure unfortunately) My body has changed drastically in response to my new regime. I have lost close to 25 pounds, and also lost 4 waist sizes. Odd how large I must have been but never noticed. now I work regular 12 hour days 5 or even 6 times a week, and find little time to myslef where I'm not eating or sleeping.
I'm really enjoying my new life, I have more money than I've ever had, though I still waste it as readily as I did before. I'm feeling healthy, happy, and even if I don't have much time off right now I enjoy that time off more, as I no longer have to deny myself the small pleasures I did when I was working a lot less. I miss writing though, which is of course what prompted me to get back onto my blog which surprisingly after almost 6 months of inactivity is still here. I'm going back to finish my story now, because despite the happiness I feel now I know I am not going to be able to do this forever. I already have days where my back feels like I've been kicked, and I'm pretty sure that's only going to get worse with age.
Welcome back Goodkingalan, Welcome back dreams of creation and the fantasy that lurk behind my everyday life. i will trap you with my pen, and if failing then my keypad...

Almost...

2005-04-13T12:48:00.001-05:00

There's like a feeding frenzy here at work today- there's a birthday in the office and everone brought something for a little party, only thing is someone decided they would make sure they could have lunch so they all brought a dish and a desert. I brought a dozen donuts shaped like pretzels (because they were cheap)

Anyway we have 13 people who are in this dept since they combined Operations, A.R, and A/p. We have enough food for about 35 people. There is a steady line of people with little bitty plates stacked in ginormous piles marching in and out of the breakroom- The very air smells like garlic chocolate chip cookies and barbeque. The smacking crunching slurping sounds of 10 bovine representative individuals is like a wet humming noise in the air.

I for one just don't feel hungry.. But I thought I would share.

I am anxiously awaiting a call today from my new job, what could be my new job anyway. I did my final interview last night and teh guy said he would give the go ahead, but I should still act surprised when they offered it to me. It is now 12 noon and she has not called me yet. I'm usually more patient than this but this time I will actually be doubling my salary. Double. Wow. Can't even imagine.

It's a totally different line of work with a guaranteed raise every year until 2007 and we renegotiate the contract. Thanks to a very kind recomendation from my very excellent cousin I will be getting this job. If she calls.

I've had 4 interviews 3 tests 2 tours of the new workplace. I've met my future supervisor, a different supervisor, the Production manager, and the Hr director. I put in an application on Monday of last week and not counting the weekend so far today is the first day I have not heard from or talked to someone at the company. It is only noon of course, but I'm impatient.

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sigh

2005-03-31T15:51:00.000-06:00

I think my landlord is planning on making us move out. I guess one of the downfalls of renting from a guy instead of a company. A company would let us live there as long as we wanted, provided of course we paid our rent and didn't disturb anyone. My landlord on the other hand I think is under some pressure to give our apartment to his grand-daughter, a recent high school grad and slightly snotty little bitch. She's been unhappy we moved in there from the beginning. More than that I just feel paranoid and having him lurking around is making me uneasy. Everything lately has been skirting the edges of the maelstrom and I'm just waiting for that one stray breeze or odd wave to push us over the edge. I need FW to start working again, and she knows it. She feels terrible she's been out so long, I
don't really want her to go back to work, but we need the money now more than we need our health I guess. I'm going to try to get a night job, difficult with the long hours I work, at least on those 4 days I work my regular job. My littlest sister is getting married in a month and a half. It was set for fall but has been pushed forward due to pregnancy, probably the number one reason for proposal in my entire family. My older brother is the only sibling to marry without someone being pregnant. The quick wedding is a little difficult for me right now, basically having no money or prospects for getting any is going to mean another bus trip to NJ, sleeping on someone's floor, bumming rides around town. This time is difficult my best buddy in NJ is leaving for Boot camp the day before the wedding, so I don't really have anywhere to stay. My brother whose sharing a house with my
mother would be my other choice (back when he had his own apt) but I haven't spent the night in my mothers house since she tossed me out as a teenager. We get along great, now. But even if FW doesn't understand I just feel weird asking to stay there. Oh well just feeling the weight of my world these past couple days. I need to stay busy, depression lurks around every corner, and I feel the grayness crowding in. More coffee is called for, then less time sitting up at night contemplating my life.

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Rambling

2005-03-29T14:28:00.000-06:00

I was fighting to survive the bad choices I'd made earlier in life. My childhood sins came back to haunt me and I wasn't savvy enough to have a plan to avoid the repercussions. It was easier before I'd let some roots grow- no cares or worries. The dark clouds that chased me, creditors and heartbroken friends kept pace but couldn't overtake me, my eyes were always to the horizon, the next great adventure. Then a woman came into my life I couldn't shake free of, didn't want to honestly. She was as wild as I was and we partied and played the nights away, working this job and that just making it, but not really caring. Soon enough though we both started making more money, we had better hours and nicer things. True we spent the money as fast as it came in, but now we bought things for "the house" mementos of our lives together that collected dust and drew eyes from our guests until we
tired of them and tossed them out to replace it with other designs and artworks. The money was worse than most of the drugs we played with, there never seemed to be enough of it, and even though I was making twice what I'd started at I never had any extra, was always scraping bottom by the time the next check came along. I went looking for better jobs, opportunities, promotions, and I found them, I was working pretty hard though and It was taking a toll. I started enjoying sitting home nights, just watching old movies and swilling martinis. She was happy with that, unknown to me the seeds of domesticity had taken root in the desires of her heart, she only was waiting for me to catch up. She didn't want me to freak out when I realized how deep I was in to the domestic world so she followed along encouraging hobbies or activities that kept us together. We started going to farmers markets
on weekends and then to other festivals and events in the summer. I thought it was all good though, we drank beer and stumbled through the streets listening to bands laughing at the world. Ducked into back alleys to get a little high with our friends then giggled madly after we'd pulled the best sober impersonation in front of the passing officers. In truth though I was being saturated in healthy family activity, all around us fathers and wives towed smiling children around goggling at the sights and smells. We smiled at the cute ones, laughed at their antics, rolled our eyes at their tantrums.

Now I had a future, where before I'd always just floated there were goals on the horizons. I wanted to own my own house, I wanted a garage and a private room to work on my creations. Now those clouds were looming pretty heavy on me- I wasn't running from them anymore and they smirked at my hopes to have any sort of normal life now. No house for you they giggled into my ear. Snakelike whispers no new cars, you have bad credit. You have debt, you can't get out from under us.

Frustrated at each turn I had to give up my dreams, started playing the lottery and spent any free time dreaming of what I could do with the riches. The martinis grew more frequent, I had bills to pay and work to do, I had no time to play, no time to create. My free time was spent drinking and ignoring the crumbling shell I'd built around my happy carefree self. She and I fought now- screaming arguments about money, or things she or I'd bought. She thought I drank too much- I thought she lived a little too easy in the shelter I'd earned for us. I carried the burdens of my choices from youth and though she had never made those choices she was living with them, whether I recognized it or not. We struggle on though- it doesn't seem as fun now, but we've crossed the first hurdle of "big trouble" we stayed together through the crunch, the fights and recriminations. We have understanding
now, even if that doesn't put food on the table, when we're hungry we can hang onto each other, sate other types of hunger. Share our dreams of house and freedom, share our memories of the wild things we'd done less than 10 years ago and marvel at how fast we'd changed. But now I'm restless, unhappy with the path I've taken. The promotions and job hunting has landed me in a dead end no future job. Something that no college or formal education has led me too. Another thing that I can't go back and fix. It seems odd but all I seem to face anymore are consequences. I think anything new that comes along is tagged early by some action or inaction of mine and becomes indistinguishable from everything else.

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Starting another week

2005-03-20T02:44:00.000-06:00

Wow, looks like I'm not laid off- but the month is still young. I guess we'll have to wait and see. Damn the man!

I spent almost the entire weekend in the hospital visiting my uncle & family-

One of my grandfathers brother, my favorite great uncle, finally succumbed to cancer and is in a hospice wing of the small town hospital. It's really messed up- he's been a farmer since the 50's raising chickens and then cows then hybrid corn and soybeans. Seems that all those years of being out in the sun have cost him- he has melanoma (skin cancer) but it's in his liver 5 or six large tumors that are literally eating him alive. I love that old cranky man, but kept a brave face on when I first heard he was taken to the hospital- he'd been unable to move or speak for a few hours and his wife wasn't able to get any response from him- He was in and out of conscious while we sat in the small room the hospital provided for gtreiving families next to the "Death Room" or "Hospice Care and Grieving family suite". Every time though that he was aware he still knew who was in the room. He told me

"wisht I was sitting out there" he's funny.

It's a long running joke between us- for years every time I see him (almost every weekend I live about 5 miles away) he'd say "Wisht I was young like you" then he'd poke fun at me or FW for a little while- maybe show me a new clock he'd been working on. No matter how late you stayed he'd always say "You don't have to run off" Funny growing up when I was much younger he's always say the same thing to everyone who stopped by- only back in the day he'd say "let me get this done then we can talk for real" and he'd go on with his chores whether it was milking or haying and when he got done, usually pretty late, he'd be ready to talk the night away regardless of him needing to be awake again at 4 or 5 the next morning to do it again.

He's only got a few more days to live- he's had nothing more than a few sips of broth or water over the last 2 weeks, his fall has been so fast, so much faster than even the doctor anticipated, but to see such a strong, hard working, lovable guy like that brought so low it seems like it's stretching on forever, all we can do is hope he can go ahead and let go of his body- but that stubborn old man just won't. My grandfather was the same- they both just fought too hard their whole lives, and when cancer took them both they just didn't know how to lie down and just give in.

I guess this isn't the best way to start the day, but I'm realizing this is the first time I've been alone to think in days.

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Another off-the network e-mail

2005-03-17T11:56:00.000-06:00

More interesting yet puzzling developements at the office-

We have a rather large customer that purchases regularly 10 items from us. We were recently underbid by a different company for 3 of those items, these items earned us more than 100k in the last half of last year alone. The remaining items only earn us roughly 10k to 15k per quarter. So we still are earning 40k to 60k a year from their sales alone. But when they told us that we had lost the bid for those 3 items someone in our (much smaller) sales department increased the cost of the remaining 7 items by 15 to 20%???!

I realize I am not one of our salesman, i don't even talk to purchasing agents on a regular basis, and yes it makes sense to try recoop some of the business we are no longer getting by adjusting our prices, but.....

Who the hell is running this? All previous theories aside, does this help us increase our profits? This doesn't even sound like they're trying to whittle us down to make us a division of another company because they're purposely alienating large purchase customers. This isn't the first one either, someone else in my department had heard from a very disturbed customer whose pricing had gone up a significant percent between orders- with no discussion at all, only he was returning all of it and never speaking to our company again.

I just don't get it.

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Off the network e-mail

2005-03-08T08:52:00.000-06:00

I had to send you a message off our e-mail server- incase "they" are watching- Yesterday (while I was out) the president of our company issued a memo first thing in the morning chopping our sales department in half- his hit list also included our facilities manager- several of our merchandising- purchasing dept and a couple position in our HR dept. not all the people on his list were fired however. Some of the people in merchandising will be allowed to apply for their jobs. I don't know if I'd want to. Everyone else except our facilities manager was escorted out of the building as soon as they got in. The president continues his practice of sitting with each department for a week or so- taking notes quietly- his mind churning. No lucky guesses needed as to which departments he's sat with yet (customer service, inside sales, facilities) unfortunately he still has not come
near accounting, or accounts receivable, but then again he needs us, or we hope he does- the question now is how many of us does he need now?

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dry spell

2005-03-07T12:01:00.000-06:00

Thank all of you for wondering where I was.. Unfortunately for me m Bosses in their infinite wisdom have deemed my own blogs as innapropriate material for the workplace, It seems to many people could come read something offensive over my shoulder and be uncomfortable.. bastards- so I have been given an executive warning, they will fire me if this innapropriate material continues- so I was forced to desist.. Unfortunately this is far too addicting so I had to set up my cpu at home and now I can e-mail my posts in and then read while away from work. I suppose I can understand their concern over the amount of time I might have spent online reading when I should have been working, but honestly- If my numbers were good ( which they were) they should leave well enough alone.

Bastardos....

Antisocial behavior.

2005-02-02T08:10:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting at lunch, by myself reading a book. The lady that used to be my boss sits down and asks "What are you reading?"I have several problems with this. Number 1 obviously I am reading and will have to stop to answer her question. Number 2 if she is an avid reader and thinks there's an off chance I am reading a book she's read before and therefore can be related to she should know better than to interrupt Me while I'm reading. Number 3 If she's not an avid reader what chance is there that possibly she's ever heard of the book I'm reading. Ok obviously I don't like to be bothered when I'm reading, I was under the impression that most people don't, except maybe for a portion of the population that reads only because they have absolutely nothing better to do and are just killing time. So my next problem is the next day I'm walking to lunch and pass by the same lady in the hallway "That's a different book from yesterday, isn't it" Astounding! What a sharp mind to deduce that because the book is no longer a large blue hardcover book without a dustjacket, and is now a small paperback with a white cover. But I just say "yes, it is.": and continue trying to get to the cafeteria where I can enjoy this "New" book, but nosy lady is not to be denied. "Did you finish that other book?" now I want to just say yes and end this conversation, maybe knock her down as I pass by, a swift elbow to the windpipe to ensure a future without questions from her, but to be perverse I say "No, I like to read part of a different book every day, so I don't get bored." The look on her face was priceless I probably should have smiled or something to indicate I was joking but I didn't, and she hasn't asked me about books again. Another antisocial reaction accomplished. Yay!That reminds me of a favorite episode which also happened at work. This guy from sales came up to me and another coworker and started to talk about the upcoming Brett Favre day thing this state had. We weren't talking about sports, but two guys standing together is enough cause to bring up anything sports related. He says "What do you think of this Brett Favre day?" I say "I think it's stupid, who cares who found the damn beans, and they taste like hell anyway." I stomped off to my cubicle, my coworker waited a few stunned seconds before he got the joke and busted out laughing. The other guy won't even acknowledge me in the hallway anymore. He must feel I made a joke at his expense, or else he's just not comfortable trying to talk to other men about something that is not sports related. At least he got the message.

Sickness

2005-01-27T07:14:00.000-06:00

When i was a child I used to get very sick at least once a year. I mean sick as in 104 temp and convulsions on the floor ill. This continued up until I was in my low twenties then seemed to stop. It's actually happened twice since I've been with FW and scared her enough that every time I get a little sick she starts walking around holding the phone a squirt bottle and periodically checking my eyes for glazing.
The first time around FW was the worst, it was the first time I'd been ill around her and she unfortunately was not prepared for a man who doesn't like being babied or fussed over when he's sick. I was just plain mean, she informed me later. I curled up in a ball under a blanket and everytime she came near me I growled like an injured dog. When My fever started raging she started really worrying because I was half asleep and was yelling random things and when she tried to check on me I patted her cheek smiled at her and called her a "sweet child"
She called my mother first (the nurse) which is probably good, because she was thinking of calling the paramedics, that might have been overkill. My mother told her I needed to be in a lukewarm shower, not cold but cooler than me until I calmed down and began to act rationally, and my eyes no longer looked glazed or hazy.
Bless my mother for that one, little FW at 120lbs was supposed to drag my 250 into the shower? So she started gently and I rolled over and ignored her except for my nonsense I was spouting pretty steadily. She tried nagging, begging yelling, but I wasn't budging and I guess my fever was getting worse. I sat up suddenly on the bed a death grip on the sheets swaying and trying not to fall off. I was shouting about the legs falling off the bed and she called my mother again. This time mother could hear my shouts and she started to worry, as a child she'd always had my dad or brothers wrestle me into the shower if I got bad enough. She told FW to get some cold water and bath my head with it until she could bet me to get up and into the bathroom. FW didn't think of a washcloth or a sponge, nope my littel ray of sunshine got a spraybottle filled it full of crushed ice and water and started spraying me in the face. I actually quieted after some spluttering and gasping, she had breached the haze of the fever and I did get up and stand in the shower for quite a while trying not to fall over as she snuck in and gradually shut off the hot water.
The second time i got ill like that she didn't wait for full on nonsensical rantings when I was lying in bed half asleep feverish and mumbling hse started squirting me in the face again with that damn spray bottle. She wouldn't stop until I got up and took a shower. So aside from being terrified at the thought of getting sick, every time I don't feel well Fw makes me look at her every time she passes by me and checks my eyes for glaziness. (ha)
Yesterday at about 10 I left work feeling a bit ill and getting worse. When she came home and found me there she started the eye thing again. i was in no mood so I locked myself in the bedroom and fell asleep. About two hours later she picked the lock came in and shook me gently trying to feel my forehead to see how feverish I was ( I don't think I was, thank you) She said "You feel kind of hot." I was still mostly asleep and maybe a little out of it because I kind of jumped out of bed, in a monster little temper tantrum, stomped over to the bathroom muttering curses and got in the shower. When I got out I was feeling very clear headed and went into the living room. FW sitting there watching me so I say "Happy now?" I was still a little mad. She just started laughing, tears rolling down her face laughing, slapping the table with one hand holding her stomach in the other gales of laughter. What was so funny? Turns out she had come into the bedroom to tell me my cousin was on the phone and I had jumped up muttering about squirtguns and sleeping and stormed into the bathroom slammed the door and then proceeded to spend over an hour sleeping in the shower leaning against the wall with almost completely cold water running. Damn Alka seltser cold packs quite a wallop.

self inflicted head wounds continued

2005-01-25T16:11:00.000-06:00

When I was 15ish i did it again. We were in the converted basement of my Buddy R, the basement had an average height ceiling with large wood beams every 6-8 feet. For some reason R and E were walking side by side, and since I'm a hyperactive freak I ran up behind them leapt at them putting a hand on each of their shoulders and tried to vault between them. My head hit the beam squarely with a loud thwock and I crumbled to the floor in a puddle. I was not knocked out but my head was ringing so much I couldn't hear them laughing at me for quite some time.
Before then When I was in fourth grade I fell out of a jungle gym flat on my back the back of my head bounced off the ground hard enough I bit through part of my tongue.

Self inflicted head wounds.

2005-01-25T10:46:00.000-06:00

When I was in 6th grade about 10 or 11 my first self inflicted head wound came from a sod cutter. This is a half moon shaped blade at the end of a long handle. One afternoon after too many kung fu movies at my buddy's house I took the sod cutter which to me resembled one of the shaolin great bladed spears. I was doing ok spinning it around slowly, My buddy was waving a pair of bamboo sticks around like swords. I got faster an faster and of course eventually forgot one end was bladed. As I spun it around attempting to spin it from in front of me to over my head I felt a tremendous clunk. I shook my head a little then laughed, my buddy looked at me smiled then his face dropped into what can only be described as terror. He said I looked normal then a line across the side of my head started oozing blood. I reached up and patted my head and my hand came away dripping blood, as I leaned forward the blood rolled down my face and dripped off. I'm not scared of blood, but I was definitely beginning to feel a little woozy as more and more seemed to pour out over my hands. My buddy helped me get my hands in position to hold the cut closed and we walked the 3 blocks back to my house, trying to think of a way to explain this to my mother (the nurse) without getting my ass beat for being stupid. My mother went a little whiter than usual at seeing me injured, but otherwise handled it really well. She got my pal to tell her the truth (wus) and then just looked at me. "You are lucky you didn't cut your ear off." That was all she said. My dad later said "If you're going to be stupid aim lower and cut your whole head off next time, it will hurt less."It didn't seem that bad after I got cleaned up, the cut was about 3 inches long an almost perfect straight line 1/2 inch above my ear. I didn't go in for stitches ,but I did get the side of my head shaved and 4 butterfly bandages to hold my scalp together. The second I was 13 and just starting to grow my hair out and start smoking. On Halloween evening after a few meager attempts to get some free candy my friend and I realized we were too old for that kind of fun. My costume consisted of my leather, a wooden bat and my hair carved into some 1950's do with crisco. It wasn't really anything, I just wanted to wear my leather, and figured with a cool hairstyle I would be seen as having a costume. I had the bat because older boys in the neighborhood liked to jump me, beat the hell out of me, so once I started high school I never went out at night without my bat or my bronze tipped walking stick. We were walking the neighborhood and came upon a local boy who began mouthing off a little, after the verbal sparring boys have so much fun with he grabbed a rock and threw it at me. I lunged towards him but he was a fast runner and took off I just missed grabbing him. If I'd caught him It probably wouldn't have been that bad, we were just screwing around and he was kind of a friend. I forgot of course that I was holding a bat and as I pumped my arms trying to catch up I rammed the end of the bat into my right eye socket. I saw a white flash and left my feet. When I opened my remaining eye, my friend was standing over me looking concerned then laughing as I tried to sit up and kept falling back over. I was so dizzy from the massive blow I had struck myself the kid I was chasing had to come back and help my friend carry me home.

The Picture of Dorian Grey, Oscar Wilde

2005-01-20T13:50:00.000-06:00

I knew who he was, knew the story (sort-of) had the general idea even before league of extraordinary gentleman came out, but today I actually took the time to read it. Well technically I stole the time toread it since that's what I spent the last 2 hours or so doing at work. I love project gutenberg !!
I liked the story itself, it's a devilish idea dealing with all the possible follies of youth and the physical impact moral degradation can stamp onto your features. After a thorough examination of myself in the bathroom mirror compared to the mental picture I have of my face, I can see some signs of my past. The heaviness of my face attests to excesses in booze or food. A few scars and a slightly crooked nose do map out sordid parts of my life so far, but any of these could have been received innocently. Then again I probably would not have got the same scars if I only engaged in innocent behaviors. So all in all i'm probably still too young to really see the stamp my cynicism, or hypocrisy, or contempt has left on my face I wonder if it will show.
Just thinking.

Ok I'm better now.

2005-01-19T17:14:00.000-06:00

I didn't have to kill anybody to feel better, bummer. I think I'll do it anyway. I actually got a cup of earl grey tea and now I feel scads better. Right bosh! and all that. harrumph harraumph..
Then again maybe I was just a little caffiene deprived, or else some chemical in the Bergamot oil(sp?) has rebalanced my see-saw.
I've decided to bite the bullet and start working out in the gym at work, it's free it's here and if I wait for everyone to go home at least all the office people I should be able to get a decent workout. They have a treadmill and a skiing machine along with the weight lifting machine (which probably has some name but I don't know it) I use free weights at home, but I need to explore doing some more aerobic style exercises.
FW says I should drink less after working out (seriously what does that woman have against my martini(s)?)
Why does she think I'm working out? to get in shape to pick up girls? no, she'd probably slice me open in my sleep, I exercise so I can drink more without developing what my family likes to call the "extreme fatness" like huge uncle bernard and aunt loveless the cow impersonator.. Not real names, not even real people. We're just farm people, we eat big, work hard, have big muscles and read scripture every night. Well that's what all mly ancestors did until my mothers generation, first ones to ever move off the farm, explore the cities and offices. What do you think was the first thing they did off the ranch?? Blew up like sexdolls on a gas station air pump..
Unfortunately for older brother who works at a bank, has two kids and hates exercise he will probably never recover, my littlest brother has the same problem, my other brother and me bounce back and forth. Lucky for him he loves lifting weights, he was a football player, now he's a chef and doesn't like to eat just likes to taste everything a lot then skips the meal. I have a few run on sentences, but I don't care. Caffiene seems to be the cure..

Waaah! I'm a big whiny baby today..

2005-01-19T16:08:00.000-06:00

I fell totally in hate with my day today. It's all my horoscopes fault. It told me it's ok to take money from savings to buy something that will last, but I don't have any savings, so whatever way cool thing I was supposed to be able to get that would last forever is out of my reach and my stupid horoscope had to taunt me.
FW is going back to work, that's really good. I worry about her mother though, so far FW has been at her house almost every day doing something for her, and if we don't go over often enough her mother actually will mess up her own television so cable won't come in?? Does this really happen? She's so technically illiterate she can't even figure out what the problem is and just randomly pushes buttons without keeping any sense of what buttons she pushes until I go over to put her TV back on the right channel.
I know she does it on purpose too, but she plays all vague when we go over there. She's barely 70 but acts like she's 90, maybe the three packs of cigarettes a day, maybe she has alzheimers. So when FW goes back to work, will I have to go over there more often, or less? Her mother talked to FW's sister and told her she had no water in her bathroom??? Then she said i worked on her shower and she couldn't use it. her sister called us, we go over there
"What did you say to her?"
"Oh I just meant while you were working on it I couldn't use it." I worked on it for like 5 minutes, i just replaced the shower head with one of those hand held showers. I need more money so we can get someone to watch her or something. Fw's terrified she's getting alzheimers, I don't know what to think. I think I need to go kill someone in my story tonight, that always perks me up..

2005-01-18T14:32:00.000-06:00

Less than 10 years ago I used to teach karate in a small school, I was one of several black belt applicants that worked at the school teaching beginning and amatuer students. Our Sensei had made it a requirement ofd receiving you black belt, and even though in other schools it was not a requirement, the extra work just encouraged us to press on. We were paid on an extremely loose pay schedule that pretty much dwelt on the whim of the sensei, sometimes extremely generous.
Anyway when I was 24ish the problem I have with my back flared up again and I was forced to go under the knife. After a long recovery i never went back to teaching, and sadly never received my black belt. This past weekend my cousin asked me to teach his son. His son used to have lessons in town, but it's too expensive for him to continue, and seeing as how we're family I'll probably go ahead and do it. I'm not in bad shape compared to then though I do have more severe flexibility problems. when I taught almost all my exercise was aerobic, anearobic, whatever, typical gym exercise for fighters, lots of running, jumproping pushups sit ups, now it's all strength and weight training, trying to compensate for the weakness I'll always have in my stomach and lower back from the repeated surgeries.
The last few days I've put myself through some of the exercises I used to do daily and have come to the conclusion that I am way out of shape. It's weird I quit smoking, I lift weights regularly, but i guess neither is enough to battle the weekend beers. So now I thought I'd start running again, after all I used to run a mile at the start of every class i taught which sometime would equal 3-4 miles a day between lessons. Unfortunately yesterday it was 3-5 degrees, today I woke up -5, so I'm missing AZ like mad, mostly because I'm a big fat wus.

What's grosser than gross?

2005-01-13T17:04:00.000-06:00

Standing at a urinal and having a ginormously fat guy come stand next to you. (That's not the gross part yet.)
First off he's fat like someone stuffed a sofa cushion in the front of his shirt, all front body mass. Just look at him and you can picture a family sized tub of chip-dip resting snugly on the swell of his stomach wedged between his man-boobs. (still not gross yet)
He starts panting and making this grunting noise as he tries to hunch over to get to his zipper. He sounds like 5 guys in a porno film and his zipper hasn't even made a sound yet. I'm praying to my own bladder to hurry up before anything else happens but unfortunately I drank 4 22 oz coffees and 2 diet pepsi and I'm stuck here for the long haul (as soon as I thought it I had to write it).
Finally his zipper goes scccrrrtcchcc and after some more contortions he stands up a little bit and he's breathing heavy like he ran a marathon or his johnson weighs like 500 pounds. (still not the gross part yet)
He starts pissing and all I hear is splatter splatter, and I jump back just in time because fat dude is peeing straight down and it's hitting the ground between his feet and spraying all over his shoes pants and the floor.
I almost wish my stomach were a little weaker so I could have commented in the bathroom by hurling on him, but alas I did not. I am supremely glad nothing appears to have touched me, I hope he's embarrassed as a teenager getting caught wacking off to the sears catalog.

Sleeping

2005-01-13T07:40:00.000-06:00

I woke up at 3:30 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. How messed up. I went to bed at 11 you'd think I'd be able to sleep longer than that. I know what it was too, the two martinis I had last night wore off at exactly 3:30 this morning, and without the effect of alcohol my body was unable to sleep. I'm not really an insomniac because I do sleep every night usually for 4 to 6 hours. If I take a benadryl I can sleep almost 8 hours before my back hurts enough to wake me up.
I dreamed I was standing in front of a policeman on a horse, I was kind of petting the horse- he kept nipping at my hand, but really gently. Then the cop turn away and the horse leaned over and bit me right over my ribs slightly behind my arm. it wouldn't let go and everytime I tried to get the cop's attention I got tears in my eyes and couldn't speak from the pain..

Rediscovering Animal Crackers

2005-01-12T09:48:00.000-06:00

Just got a bag of Animal crackers from the vending machine, and surprisingly I actually feel happier sitting here crunching on them. I took out all the broken pieces and ate them first, then lined up all the unbroken ones in a row and ate the backwards facing ones next, we'll have none of that kind of behavior in my crackers, thank you. In grade school (fifth grade) I was in a musical play called animal crackers. I have no idea what it was about, but I was a rabbit without a speaking part. I did sing several solo songs which I hope justified all the singing and music lessons my dad paid for in forth to ninth grade before I started smoking and ended any chance of an opera career. My mother thought it was adorable, her friends thought it was adorable, my friends laughed at me. My bullies beat the crap out of me. Maybe that's why I stopped eating animal crackers. Stupid crackers. Now I almost don't feel like eating them. But I'm smiling when I say that and I giggle a little as I crunch through the head of a rabbit making grrr noises.

"ooooh!"

2005-01-12T07:50:00.000-06:00

I got my home CPU set up, it's old and slow and I don't have the internet, but finally I can write outside of work. I'm almost useless with a pen an pencil anymore. They're obsolete. I have the technology to write stronger faster.. Or maybe I can finally read what I'm writing. I can write really legibly but only if I print, if I write in script I can't even read it. It's too slow too, once I get onn a roll I can type for hours without pause, but when I write by hand my hand slows me down too much I start having to back up the words in my head to let my pen catch up. It's one of the most frustrating feelings to be rolling on a good idea and have to pause, then try to start again.
Last night I was typing up part 2 to chapter 7 of "This Guy" and FW came up behind me. I don't think she tried to sneak up on me, but she came up behind me and kissed me on the neck. I jumped and yelled, knocking my chair over backwards as I bashed my thighs into the desk, then fell backwards over the chair that was lying behind me, knocked my head against the wall, thankfully not that hard.
FW stood over me her hand halfway to her mouth saying "Ooh." her eyes wide. Then a brief pause before, "Are you on drugs?" she said that completely straight faced. She offered to help me stand up but I waved her away.
"I'm just going to stay here. I'm fine."
She shook her head and went back in the kitchen. Can you guess what I heard next?
"Hee hee snort hee ha ha ha ha."

Nicknames

2005-01-05T08:52:00.000-06:00

Thanks Johnnie- for a little early morning inspiration. Beats actually doing some work.
My nickname is "Double A".
When FW and I moved up to WI she took me around and introduced me to all her old friends, most of which are bikers, or hang with bikers, or want to be bikers, or hate bikers and hang out with bikers so they have someone to fight when they get drunk. This guy she knew "S" was a bartender at all the biker bars, meaning he worked each one a week or two got fired, quit, stopped showing up, or whatever spent a few weeks barhopping then would start at the next bar. There's plenty of bars around here for that to work pretty much forever. FW tried to warn me he has a strong personality, and might tease me, or try to ride me a little. He's probably a foot shorter than me, has a large beer belly bushy black beard long hair looks like a pirate carrying a barrel. So the first night I met him he starts, trying to get between me and FW, lots of winking between them, testing my temper. I slid down the bar a space or two to give them room. Poor FW started to feel a little unloved, gave me a glare for not standing up to him, but I just smiled. So S starts talking a little smack, see FW had told him I have a temper sometimes and to take it easy on me (silly woman trying to get me killed). I was pretty patient for a while, then ordered him and me a shot of jack Daniels. I slid one over to him
"What's that for?"
"So when I beat the hell out of you, you can say you were drunk and I got lucky."
So now we're standing chest to chest glaring at each other, FW pleading with me and him not to fight.So S grabs me by both sides of my head pulls me forward and blows a raspberry on my cheek!! I'm surprised as hell, my face is red, everyone is laughing. FW's trying not to but failing. So I grab S and sort of push / throw him backwards into the wall slap my hand over his mouth and bend him over backwards kissing the back of my hand making horrible horrible slobbery noises. When I let him up his face is red and we walk back to the bar. FW is just wide eyed- I think she thought I really kissed him. The bartender is laughing hard, he could see what I'd done.
S says "What the hell man?"
"Sorry it's the beard, got me all excited."
"Damn I thought that was a double a battery in your pocket."

Pain.

2004-12-30T15:10:00.000-06:00

She had no idea how I felt. She looked at me with her eyes wide, wet eyes with tears that were just beginning to hang at the lip of her eyelids. I couldn't stop the anger I was feeling, it wasn't irrational or excessive. She had hurt me deeply, had strayed over the bounds we had established through the years we were together. I watched a tear spill over, tracing its way down her cheek. It lodged in the corner of her mouth, her normally full lips white with the pressure she exerted holding them together. Her chin quivered slightly then firmed then quivered again. She had asked me to forgive her, just once. She did not let go of her pride and beg or whine or make excuses and for that I stayed to think about it. For that reason alone I stood there looking down at her feeling a snake writhing in my stomach. Her hand fluttered then went to her face wiping the trail from her tear away. The tips of her ears reddened slightly, she was embarrassed to cry right now. She didn't want to twist me with her tears, her sadness, her remorse. She knew the forgiveness would only be complete if I made the decision without coercion. I slowly sat down in the chair across from her.
My eyes locked on hers, wanting to scream to yell. She was mine! Mine alone, and she had dared to touch another. Someone else had brushed her thick hair back from her cheek. Someone else had tasted her lips, maybe bit them lightly. I shuddered at the thought of her closing her eyes leaning towards an indefinable shadow of someone else. The rage swirled up in me again and my heart pounded as if it would burst. I felt my hands sweating and shaking. If "He" was here now I would choke him. I would spit in his face and bash the back of his head into the ground. I would make him bleed and cry and whimper for mercy like they had made my heart do. She saw the change in my eyes, maybe she could imagine where my mind wandered. Her face went even paler and her fingers locked onto each other. She was braced for a firing squad, for an explosion. She was so brave to see the agony in my eyes and dare to make contact. She would bear it if I exploded, she would sit there silently accepting what she thought was the proper reward. She might be considering how she would feel if I had done the same. If I had strayed into the arms of another. I cannot lose her for this. My foundations are moored on the time we have spent together. I cannot even think of something I have that does not have her subtle imprint on. I trace my fingertips lightly on the table. The rustic pine table she had wanted so badly for her perfect room. The one I had my uncle help me make in his workshop. It might not have been as perfect as the one she saw in the store but her face when she walked in the door.. Ah, that smile still brings tears to my eyes, her gasp of amazement as she saw our initials carved delicately into the legs with great flourishes and twists. I want to burn that table now. It's ashes might seal the hole inside me that feels like it is swallowing me whole. I feel a tear in my own eye, my traitorous eye that I try to blink away. I almost hate her as she sits there deliberately not looking at my tear, my weakness, but I can't. I draw a slow breath in, filling my lungs as much as I can before releasing the breath slowly. I don't want to be civilized about this, but I can't make myself hurt her on purpose. "Do you want someone else?" the words are thick in my mouth. They taste of bile and salt and feel like I'm talking through syrup. I clear my throat, wincing at how harsh I sound, how close to tears. "No" her voice is clear but so soft, she seems afraid to answer. She is scared I'm baiting her, trying to force an explosion. "Do we need" I clear my throat again, clenching a fist on the table. "Do we need to talk to someone." I finish in a rush, the last thing I want is to talk to someone about this, even her, even myself. I just can't give her up. I can't let her go without a fight, without trying. She looks down at her hands, clenched together in her lap.
I think we are already doomed.

This would suck if it happened. I felt like this only once, over a kiss that an ex- "the super-ex" had with someone else. We never talked about it though, we never had things together. I was just stuck in reminiscing and morbid speculation about how different it would be if something like that happened now, with FW.

Writing

2004-12-30T09:50:00.000-06:00

I have discontinued posting This Guy- it's no longer easy to whip out a chapter at work the story has gotten complicated enough I drew myself a chart. I'm going to continue offline however since it's still going strong.

Hot Librarian- got me reminiscing about the good old days.. Damn those teenage years...
Sure to date myself but one of the first concerts I ever went to was Poison / Warrant in Philly. I remember so many of the girls were dressed in lingerie all the guys in black leather. I had just got my first leather and it was still crisp looking so we stomped it in the parking lot before the show. Some security guy thought we were beating the hell out of somebody and ran over- he started laughing when he saw it was just a jacket. I still have that jacket in my closet I wore it up to last year when I finally admitted it was too small for me. I had replaced both sleeve linings with old pant legs, the interior lining was the remains of a blue knit shirt. All of the repairs to that jacket over the 15 years I had it were done with a hot glue gun which actually worked pretty good. The insides of the sleeves were all burned from sliding my arms up in them hiding cigarettes from teachers. One sleeve is covered in blue spraypaint. The can had gotten lodged behind the passenger seat- it was summer so the leather was tossed in the back, when my buddy sat down there was a hissing which stopped every time he leaned forward, we never even smelled the paint until we stopped and one half of the backseat was covered in blue paint. It had a long cut on the arm where some guy had swung a knife at me trying to back me off or something. Being me (stupid macho whatever) I had blocked the knife with my arm, thankfully the leather held although he had pulled his swing a little when I charged him, we were friends after all. When one of the belts came off I sealed the tear and took the other belt off- I saved both belts just waiting for when I might need them. I've fallen off 3 motorcycles wearing it. It was confiscated by the cops twice- once my Mom got it back for me the other time I went to the station and pretty much begged for it. Me and almost all my friend had identical shiny zippered motorcycle jackets we wore them every day of highschool all year round. When they initiated a dress code that forbid jackets we wore them anyway I racked up 9 suspensions before the school caved and just started spot checking our pockets for cigarettes, drugs, whatever. Only thing was they could only check your jacket pockets, not your clothes..
My new jacket has normal pockets, no zippers or epaulets, no belt to jingle as I walk..
I think I need to go home put on my jacket, pull out some old chili peppers/ violent femmes/ metallica and drink some JD out of the bottle..

Time Thieves

2004-12-28T13:50:00.000-06:00

Today is a bad day- time pirates have invaded my work area and are inhibiting me from getting any real work done. These stupid people keep putting me on hold and keeping me there forever. It's cutting into my slack off time. Pretty soon my boss will see me working all the time(even though I'm really on hold) he might get used to that then when I start slacking again he might realize how much of it I do..( I think that makes sense)
I have supremo amounts of stupid ass people i have to call today but everyone is answering their phones and putting me on hold so I'm not even halfway through and I only have an hour or so left of good time to call these stupid people. Don't think I know it's not aploy by you to make me angry enough to stop calling. All of my customers are against me. Well they were before anyway since I'm trying to collect money.. But now they have actually joined forces into frustrating me into giving up. It might work too I have a severely low desire to work threshold, and I'm already past it because here I sit typing this and not working at the same time..
ADD is kicking my ass again. I've noticed I can't touch my mouse without clicking on the internet link,... no matter what I'm doing.. Damn.

Still more time to kill....

2004-12-27T10:07:00.000-06:00

FW was very happy with her presents this year, I spoil her tremendously, really I do. She managed to hold off a flu and thank me properly for the fantastic gifts before succumbing yesterday. Now I feel like hell, which means her thank you might have been laced with some GERMS.. Still worth it though, wouldn't trade it for anything, but if I start feeling worse I may change my mind about that.

I think I have a slight fever, i feel flushed and hot with that twisty sick feeling, but my fingertips are all icy cold????
That doesn't make sense to me.
FW felt so sick last night, she had migraine style headache and throbbing sinus, the tylenol and sinus crap was ... crap so I fixed her a flu season booster 2 shots of Grey Goose in 1 shot of OJ with just a dash of Chambord.
The first one didn't take, so I made her another and went and took my shower, when I got out she was singing the song from "Tammy" which I've never seen or heard but pretty much goes like "Tammy tammy tammy's in love" I don't know the melody neither did FW, so make up your own, works for us. She sang it over and over and eventually dropped off to sleep-- Maybe that's why they say not to mix liquor with pharmacueticals??
I woke her up this morning getting dressed, she stood up and said "Do you want me to take down the tree?" her eyes weren't even open yet. I almost said Yes just to see how far she'd get, but resisted the urge and tucked her back into bed. We'll see how she feels later on..

Post Christmas Post

2004-12-27T10:03:00.000-06:00

Post Christmas blues stuck in the office nothing to do all the real accountants have the day off too but their bitches are here singing to you They paid for lunch It's so great! Thanks a bunch! I'll picture you sitting at home while I munch. Hope your heads in a vise....Crunch!

Addendum-the preceding lines have been reformatted to reduce the impact to poetry sensitive individuals. All of me here at Kings Gardens strive to prevent materials or situations that can make anyone feel uncomfortable.

Thank you for your time.

First Christmas present

2004-12-21T13:24:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I got home and the first package of the year was delivered and sitting I the snow underneath my mailbox. Surprises of surprises it was from my Dad. He never is on time.. And this year he's early?? Weird, anyway I open it up, it's from the Noble Collection, a goblet covered in scenes of King Arthur. So dad on his short visit (lasted 3 hours) actually saw enough of my house to pick something that fits in really well with the collection of homemade armor, tapestries of Jerusalem, and a few other crusade era trappings and relics.
Scary that he was so spot on. So now I have to send him something. I guess I don't have to, but in this era of reconciliation we're having, I would feel odd. Then again maybe he's just buttering me up for something. This is two nice things he's done for me in the same year.
I guess I'm stuck on the same question...
Did his sickness and near death change him?
Is he still dying and trying to make amends?
Am I overanalysing a Christmas gift?
Will I ever be able to consider him a normal person and not have to question the motive of every gesture?

I called him after I got the package, sure that he had checked the tracking numbers on the package online and knew it was delivered. He talks like people play chess, other people not me. He takes his time, weighing the intent and tone of every word before he says it. It was always so scary to be threatened by him when I was younger, you could tell he had thought out his threats. I talk like all ADD \ hyperactive person, I jump subjects repeat conjunctions until it seems I'm stuttering. I talk about things I don't mean to reveal then cover it up by talking nonsense. I can't stand the long pauses, he should know that, it's painful for me to sit there holding the phone. I drank a martini for the first part of our conversation pacing the whole length of the house, walking faster as he goaded me with his silence. I gently stirred my next martini so he wouldn't hear the ice rattling when I shook it. It's probably rude to need to be drunk to talk to your own father, otherwise I just get short, abrupt and try to hang up the phone right away. Will we ever just talk? We kind of talked when he came to visit, but we didn't talk about anything important. Just hashed up old memories. I made him an esspresso, had one myself at 1am while we were still talking. I wasn't drunk, and the novelty of him actually being in the same state as me was enough to keep the conversation flowing.
Well thanks for the gift. I said it on the phone, but I kinda mean it. It's been 20 something years since I got a gift from you with any thought behind it. Some hint that you actually know something about me. I don't know what that means to me.

2004-12-20T10:00:00.000-06:00

Aside from the loss of a cane, and the horrible bruise on my left shin, I had one of the best nights sleep last night. Turns out too- much gin makes Alan go a little weird. I was dreaming pretty intensely last night and woke up to FW's surprised shriek, a loud cracking noise and a sharp pain in my shin.
FW says I woke her up getting out of bed, she figured I was getting a drink, but when I got down on my stomach and low-crawled out of the bedroom, she figured I was sleepwalking again. She followed me quietly (bad idea to wake up a sleepwalker) into the living room where I picked up a black cane out of the rack and then crawled behind the Christmas tree, knocking off several (but not breaking) any of the ornaments. She was too scared to come close so she called to me across the room asking me what I was doing. I'm going to write out the conversation she said we had because it's way funnier that way:
"What are you doing Alan?" her
"Damn you! Keep your voice down or they'll hear us."
"Who will?"
"The Saxons are at the door and you stand there calling to them! Mumble mumble mumble "She just couldn't understand that part.
"Who's at the door?" she started giggling
"The Saxons! Do you stand for him?"
"For who?" more giggling.
"The king! Mumble mumble"
"Alan, come back to bed"giggle"you're going to knock over the tree. And your not wearing any clothes"
Right then the Saxons must have attacked because FW says I jumped out from behind the tree ran towards the front door screaming and brandishing the cane, so she did the only thing she could think of, she tipped the large metal can which hold my other canes (I'm a collector) a didgeridoo, and two large bamboo poles (not sure where those came from but I have them) into my path in an effort to stop my mad dash outside. Now it's probably for the best, it was about 6 degrees out and snowing at 4 this morning It was a bad idea because I ran into the assorted implements of destruction and after breaking one of the canes, and almost breaking my shin; I hit the floor. Hard.
Now fw wants a video camera for Christmas. Hell no.

2004-12-17T09:24:00.000-06:00

I was just reminded of a dear friend..
I had just broken up with a long term serious GF and my friend (call her K) had just broken up with her insane but serious relationship with her bf. I knew them both and didn't like K's BF mainly because they had the "Billy Bob thorton(?) Angelina jolie" scary ass relationship. She was super attractive and we had been friends for a few years, I was destitute nd depressed so we started hanging out, just getting high talking, she tried to teach me how to paint, I tried to teach her how to write haiku' without counting syllables on her fingers.
We never took it far, I was weird inside and incapable of anything intimate. We had a really good couple days though, managed to stir up some trouble. We fed off each other a little-
We took my new car (which I couldn't pay for that the repo man was looking for) on mad drives through the pine barrons, sliding through blind curves and stop signs barely short of suicidal. We altered our perceptions and when I was chased around the block by a cop (I'd thrown rocks at him) she helped another friend hide me, and eventually helped him sit on me and hold me down until I was back in my mind.
After a few days of this mad behavior we slowed down, started feeling a little better, we started talking about the exes and what we felt was missing.. We hugged a lot, and finally rejoined the rest of our friends to find the world had been watching us. One of my best friends had dated her before and I think he felt I betrayed him by sleeping with her(which I didn't), using her as a rebound, whatever.. I never explained it to him, I didn't think he deserved and explanation, we were both just hurting, everything as flying apart for us and we sort of scared ourselves back into caring about life.. How could I explain it so he could see it.
My ex had been watching also- she probably got hurt more by that than anything, I never explained to her because I was scared of how much I wanted her back, I tried to hide from her and eventually moved out of state to avoid her (far out of state). We sporadically e-mail each other now, but I almost died the first time I saw her name in my e-mail folder.
Anyway different story..
The rest of my friends figured we rebounded off each other, I got some crap for using my friends like that, I tried denying it to a very close friend, he still doesn't believe me so I had to finally ignore them all..
Still think it's none of their business, but I wonder if she ever told her side..

2004-12-16T13:15:00.000-06:00

Every time someone in my family (brothers, sisters, friends) meets one of my girlfriends, (or some new friend of mine, or someone I work with, or some stranger in a bar) they find it necessary to bring out the same head deflating story. So in the interest of me not having to sit through endless snorting and giggling and oh so hysterical exaggerations, I am showcasing this story for everyone else in the world. That way if they start to tell it, someone will say "oh I already heard that. It's like an urban legend" and the curse of this childhood trauma will be lifted.

When I was between 10 and 12 my Dad used to always take us camping as a family. We always invited a friend or two to go with us, mainly so we would not Bug Pops so much. One such trip landed us in PA in a state forest camping with my best friend along. We were charged with getting water to bring back to the campsite. For this we had a large blue 6 gallon water container. I was a scrawny thing and couldn't really carry 6 gallons of water farther than a foot or two, and though my best friend was strong enough to carry it, the water pump was almost a 1/2 mile from the campsite. Dad never drove anywhere once we were camping, I think if we had lost a limb and were bleeding out he'd slap a turnstone on and try to pack us out, not even thinking of driving..
Anyway..
We had a aluminum furniture dolly we were using to carry the water jug, it worked great on the road, but the tiny hard plastic wheels caught on every twig, rock, or root we passed. Finally my friend got sick of fighting with the stupid carte and we unhooked it and he carried it the rest of the way. The jug was attached by a bungee cord, when I took the jug off I didn't secure the cord and it was dragging along behind me as I towed the cart.
Let me pause here to say that as a boy I was petrified of snakes...
Nothing was scarier, not even big bad Dad..
So I hear a slithering noise and look back and what do I see? A speckled snake *(never mind the color) that was chasing me. I screamed a very high pitched pre puberty perfect soprano scream and took off running. The snake followed me! It was keeping up. I was sobbing and gasping and screaming "snake!! A snake!!" leaving my friend well behind me I headed straight for camp. My mother "the nurse" had heard my scream and was on her way towards the path in the woods when I burst into the campsite. Instinctively I ran behind my mother, I knew she'd protect me. From around the other side of her legs I saw the snake circle around her! Still chasing me! I screamed another horrifying scream of terror and ran a few circles around my Mother before she grabbed me and stopped me, pointed at the snake and .....LAUGHED!
No. I did not let go of the cart.
Yes. I was almost eaten by the "Bungee Cobra"
Yes. Everyone laughed. For hours. And Hours.
Yes, I did have nightmares for weeks about being chased by snakes.
Yes, I did have nightmares about my parents watching me get bitten by snakes and laughing.
So, anybody else want to tell this story? Let me know I'll send you a copy..

2004-12-09T17:12:00.000-06:00

I was reading Sinkpig talking about AvP-
When I was 7-ish and my older brother was 9-10ish we went to see ET in the theatre. I don't remember a damn thing about the movie except I had three-d glasses and probably an insane sugar buzz. Now if we had gone with our parental units I would not have been given any sugar, and my older brother might not hate me.
So, he got scared by the man/men?? With the jingly keys and actually hid under his seat. Pretty normal behavior if you don't have an evil little brother. Aside from most of the movie pointing at him and laughing like the redheaded bastard in "A Christmas Story"
At the end of the movie he twisted my arm up in a chickenwing and made me swear not to tell a soul he was crying. I probably deserved but still...
So on the car ride back home good old Dad made a few attempts to get me to sit down "Sit down before I knock you down" "I'll stop this car and sell you to a hobo if you don't sit down now!" etc.. Then asked a simple question, like he always did when he had yelled and wanted us to know he wasn't mad anymore. I don't recall the actual conversation, but based on any other sugar high I've had here goes:
How was the movie guys? (dad)
It had aliens! (me)
and spaceships and and people and and they went trick or treating and and and ******(brothers name) cried like a girl and they flew and and I had some jelly beans and and ***** was hiding under his seat and a plant died but came back to life. Can they do that? I had sunglasses and and can we see it again..
My big brother stared out the window fuming, dad glared at my brother in the mirror and mumbled curses about the "stupid effing neighbors giving a 7 year old candy" I probably just sat there vibrating in place.
Now for the funny part.. (Family history is always funny..)
My brother gave me a fat lip and a wedgie for telling...
My dad went out the next day and bought a life sized e-t doll and hid it in older brothers closet., then moved it under the bed, then a dark corner of the basement where we stored our canning things.
Funny he wasn't scared of Et at the actual movie, but damned if he didn't almost wet his pants the first time he found it in the closet, and under the bed, and I think he actually did the time it attacked him in the dark basement. Mother ended up removing ET's vitals and limbs with her scissors, she had older brother carry it's head to my father with a paring knife stuck in it to prove he'd kill it, maybe scare dad into thinking he had created a psychopath.
Dad only said "It's about time. You better clean that knife and put it away before your mother sees that."

2004-12-09T13:27:00.000-06:00

I am way behind. I am several days behind on my work. My boss asked me how I was coming on some project: I grunted, glared at him, then went to the breakroom and got some more coffee. I start a little vacation tonight until next wednesday, my little Bro is coming to visit. I spent the last two days writing part 6, and part 7 to my ongoing saga of This Guy. I am still not working right now. So being behind is mostly my fault. Our department has not replaced the last 3 people who quit, therefore being overworked, and thus inclined not to try too hard is mostly the company's fault. i f I actually caught up on all the things i should have done by the end of today, there is a pool of open projects waiting for someone to be free to do them. Not me.
I'm tired, I've been at work 13 hours a day 5 days a week for the last couple weeks minus thanksgiving. I haven't been really working so much as treading water.
I think at the end of today I will pile everything I have up in a big pile and hide it under my desk, so When I come in next week nothing will fall over and kill me. I wish someone would go through all this worthless crap on my desk and do it for me while I'm gone.
So in case anyone wondered why my job description changed from Slave Bitch to Slave Bitch's whore and footrest. Now you know!
At * tonight when I finally get to leave this place I'm going to jump into the air and clik my heels together like an old toyota commercial.. Then When I pick myself up off the ground I'm going to go have a Martini.
Cheers!

2004-12-06T18:35:00.000-06:00

I can close my eyes along with the music and see smokey shaded naked women dancing slowly in and out of black shadow. Parts become visible and obvious then fade back into nothing. My mind adds a strobe and I'm reviewing ever lover, every distraction, She, they move moans cries not reaching, trying to writhe sinuously but are pinned down, trapped by the bright white. The strobe must leave, it's too nightmarish, too much like an advert for playboy only the woman in my mind's eye ranges from the thinnist waif with ribs showing and pink rope marks crossing wrists and chest sweating panting with Beethoven, to an hourglass figures that would make michaelangelo drool, breasts heavy and swaying slowly in time to "nights in white satin". The figures turn and long black hair cascades down white flesh almost touching her cleft, morphing into a short blond spike that fits so well above the thick black collar with bright silver rings. Knees bend, twist, revealing secrets which remain too dark for more than my own memory to make out. Eyes black and brown look at me over white freckled shoulder, over waves of black hair, bright green peirce me through strawberry blonde curls, sky blue taunts through thick black mascara, all beckoning calling. She, they fall to their knees, knowing how to draw me, reach me with sultry, perky, full lips that never call my name, but murmur about the silk of their skin brushed over my own silk, iron.

2004-12-03T08:48:00.000-06:00

How long is it normal to crave cigarettes after quitting smoking? It's been over 2 years now and I'm going through an intense wave of nicotine desire. I suppose I don't care about the tar or the nicotine, I miss smoking. The feel of menthol smoke biting the lungs on a crisp fall(?) morning. The smell of fresh lit cigarette when you just touch a lit wooden match to the end before you even have a chance to draw in. The spicy taste of dark cherry tobacco smoke in the evenings beside a fire, rolling the thick pipe smike back and forth across my tongue. When I quit I tried exercise, food, reading, even chopping wood to help quit, unfortunately for me drinking worked the best, I put more weight on from the 6-10 beers per day than I would have by eating a donut every time i had a craving.
Now that I have my drinking back under control- (only martini's please, and keep them cold and plentiful) my weight is starting to drop and my clothes fit again.
Trying to be in shape, be healthy is so against every one of my urges. I was made to defile myself, I'm good at it.
I want to eat big greasy strips of roast pig with my hands, drink flagons of dark rich beer until I'm full then switch to some sort of distilled liquor to help me go to sleep, the whole time puffing away on a smorgasbord of nature, stripping down and rutting like animals, no consequence, no future, just fulfilling the desire for more, more of everything.

2004-12-02T11:52:00.000-06:00

ha ha- i was just in subway in line behind some lady- she ordered their special new sandwich, the guy goes "what do you want on it?"
"just like in the picture" and points over his head at the 2ft by 2ft picture of the sandwich
So he adds lettuce, then goes back to the picture, comes back puts on some olives, goes back to the picture, and so on...
finally he calls the guy at the register over points at the sign "What kind of sauce is that?"
Register guy shrugs and walks away, lady ordering is so pissed she walks out. The guy looks at me and shrugs, I don't think he was being obnoxious on purpose. He starts to push the sandwich to the side.
So I tell him- "wait - just throw some mayo on that one, I'll take it."

Still hate subway, but man cannot live on MCD's alone, in fact man probably can't live on mcd's

2004-11-30T17:10:00.001-06:00

How evil are you? Ok- except for working for AOL it sounds pretty dean on. Mwah ha ha ah!Why yes I am bored and overcaffienated at the end of this day...

2004-11-29T08:36:00.000-06:00

Surving Thanksgiving was easy this year. Whilst cooking I was sampling, though fortunately for me i ate more of the fresh breen beans than I did anything else. After the apertizer beer "pislner Urquell" Dinner beer of "Staten optimizer" I ate a small piece of turkey 1 slice of yam a few green beans and stopped. I was comfortable, happy satisfied and not full enough to be inconvienenced, Later that night I toasted some turkey and sharp cheddar over herb cream cheese and a heavy roll.

So no over doing it this year, it seems two overweight older people on my block gave themselves heart attacks from overeating.

And on that note a very close friends 11 year old sister went to the hospital Saturday and was diagnosed as having a heart attack. How fucking obscene. She's 11?! Some sort of virus has attacked her heart and brought her to the point where she had a heart attack. Of course a doctor told her parents she had a heart attack while she was in the room.
She says " Daddy I don't want to die. I haven't driven a car yet."

Not sure what's going to happen next, she is still alive so that's promising, hopefully everything can be fixed to where she can get back to a normal pre teen life.

2004-11-22T10:50:00.000-06:00

This Thanksgiving i am cooking:
1 turkey w/ asian pear currant stuffing
Steamed green beans w/ bacon vinegar dressing
Candied sweet potatoes
Pumpkin pie
It still seems like I need something else with this but I am keeping it simple this year, no-one but me wants a salad with this, and so the chef is sadly outnumbered. I did have two fine wines chosen but FW and her mother will not drink wine, and my buddy from NJ doesn't really drink wine. So again outnumbered I have decided on a selection of beer but have no ideas which ones. Probably busch beore dinner busch light with dinner then busch ice with dessert.. Just kidding maybe..

2004-11-16T18:07:00.000-06:00

This Guy#3 is done, we finally get names. Nobody dies. Damn..
I'll try harder next time. Still at work and it's late, only 2 more hours to go.

2004-11-16T17:31:00.000-06:00

I had a strange nightmare that the IT department was tired of me spending so much time online. Someone whispered to me they were coming over to DEFRAG me. I was in a panic and sweating. I kept looking up over the cubicle walls so I could see them coming. I knew they were coming over on their chairs so I wouldn't see them but I kept looking. I couldn't leave my desk. They were around me leaning over speaking in numbers "0203487641130" "011444522" their voices never changed pitch or tone, but they leaned forward expectantly waiting for an answer. I kept turning back to my computer then turning back to them shrugging. I had something on my screen I didn't want them to see.
I hate dreams about work..

2004-11-11T08:59:00.000-06:00

In Answer To "My Friend" Is MEGATRON evil?
He was evil because he only lived to destroy Optimus Prime and all the cool little car transformers.He was evil because he shunned acceptable civil propriety focusing all his energy on obtaining Energon(?) Cubes. His casual disregard for other life forms evident as he destroyed lives and planets in his quest for more energon.He was evil, yet inside he must have been sad. If only he had one engineer, one scientist.. Instead shackled with moronic war machines, imbecilic insects and finally peanut brained reptiles he was cursed to failure. Perhaps realization of his ultimate frustration was what drove him to such drastic lengths, drew such wanton brutality from the deep parts of his metallic hollow shell..That's why he was a transformer....
They're more than meets the eye.....
Anyway I'm rambling today, too many long long days here at the desk, I'm all pent up. Actually FW woke me up with some naughty naughty behavior and I guess her cold must be cured! Yay!
Does it bother anyone else that U2 song Vertigo was in an Ipod commercial before the album was even released? I'm not a big fan anymore but I probably have most of their albums tucked away in some closet. Is it as shady as it seems or is it a sign of how big they've gotten that they can go straight to commercial. Is that the new pinnacle of Rock-Stardom, once all the booze and drugs and girls and boys have lost their thrill is mass amounts of cash the only thing left for the jaded superstar?
A lot of musicians do just commercials, without the fame and fortune. Do any of their current fans feel cheapened? Or is IPod so cool that it doesn't matter. Does it deserve Rock Star attention?
Just babbling, for once I'm not feeling sex obsessed, but it's still early, I have hopes for an afternoon pant stretching...

2004-11-09T09:54:00.000-06:00

I finally pushed through This Guy #2 It only took 3 martinis and a concoction called "Too drunk to measure out or shake up a real martini so I just poured gin, vermouth and tossed a cherry into a lowball full of ice" Just so you don't worry I did shake the glass a little before I drank it walking is hard sometimes.. As I was saying I wrote out what I was sure was a triumphant chapter in the saga, then confident that I had written with the universe whispering her secrets in my ear, I put down my pad and went to sleep. Only to find the next morning, to my absolute horror, someone had switched my masterpiece for some sloppy drunken drivel that barely made sense and occasionally seemed to run itself right off the page. I scanned it for salvageable material, There had to be some kernel of an Idea worth saving somewhere in the 4 handwritten pages of drunk-speak. That's when I found it. The inspiration, the driving force that enabled me to recapture the spirit of my character and the true flow of my story....A slight pain behind my right eye resolved itself into a throbbing ache. The dryness that had tickled in my throat spread a sticky paste into my mouth and down into my stomach. Yes I'm hung over, and finally in the proper frame of mind to continue writing, because I'm just trying to kill time. It's too early in the day for another cocktail, and no amount of aspirin or caffeine can substitute for the cocktail cure...

2004-11-03T07:13:00.000-06:00

I almost wrote a second chapter to my saga of This Guy, but I can't keep the characters from turning to mush. I based it entirely on real people, yet the logical or reasonable reaction to a situation like that seems to elude me. I can't make the characters react realistically in my head. I have no idea how they'd do it and therefore every attempt I've made has turned out badly. In one attempt our "heroes" ended up on a beach (in Maryland of all places) punching each other and screaming. In the next they set up a complicated (and boring) system to slowly withdraw the money from the overseas account to avoid IRS notice (too much time at work on this one). There may be no easy answer. It was an odd story when I wrote it. Pure inspiration and caffeine overload, I just belted it out. Structured writing is so much harder for me. I'm going to come up with something for it, will not give up. I've got ideas, seriously everyone has ideas. I need form, function, flexibility, insight, awareness, flow, etc..

2004-10-28T15:48:00.000-05:00

I' m pissed right now. Bruce springsteen is downtown right
now singing on the capital steps standing next to him John Kerry.
Hanging on the wall of a nearby building a giant sign that says
"Wisconsin is Kerry Country"
Well its' not.
It's bush country
but not George W Bush,
B-U-S-C-H Country!
Comes in a 12 ounce can with pictures of mountains we don't have in Wisconsin
gets rednecks drunk after 12 or so.
I'm so sick of Madison, It's the most political place I've ever lived and I can't even take a break away from my desk without some jackass in the office wanting to talk about the election. I've decided to vote this year and I'm writing in R. Lee Ermey (drill sergeant from full metal jacket) as my candidate. He may be a horrible president but I bet it would be funny when he made the liberals cry and the republicans exercise..
Ok enough politics from me. It's not natural I'm not good at it. This is the first election for me that seemed to matter, that I've been taking seriously and giving thought to. I never took political science I don't remember a damn thing from civics, or social studies that ever went beyond explaining the 3 branches of the government. All I see are a bunch or rich people trying to prove they understand me so I'll pick them.
Is it worth voting for a third party? Will it do any good other than to declare to myself that I chose the right person for me?
Or do I have to choose one of these two candidates preselected for me? Try to figure which one will do the least harm? Which one will turn the country down a road that might one day lead me to approve of a presidential candidate?
Does my vote even count as much as I'm obsessing about it?
positively verbose this afternoon, mayhaps the 3 cups of tea today have accelerated my babbler...

2004-10-27T15:14:00.000-05:00

Last night I was feeling Gin Dandy this morning I felt Damn Ginny. right now I'm considering going out for more martinis!
Martini, tal caramelo líquido frío del hielo maravilloso!
"Martini, such wonderful ice cold liquid candy!"

2004-10-27T11:18:00.000-05:00

My search for a new job is going slowly. For the first time I have the luxury of liking my current job enough that it's not a crisis. I am tired of it though, my move out into the country has added 40 miles to my commute, and once winter hits I don't think I'll enjoy driving that far in the snow. I've been in 5 or six accidents, only two of which I was driving and only one of them was y fault, but I'm paranoid about being hit by someone else's car. I hate tailgaters. Twice I've gradually come to a complete stop trapping the offender behind me. The first one was a middle aged woman, she looked petrified in the mirror so I didn't get out of the car. After a second or two (I'm sure it felt longer for her) I pulled to the right and waved her past. She didn't flip me off or anything so she must have realized she was in the wrong. The second time a little dude- prob a high school kid popped out of his car and was fast stepping it up to my door so I stepped out. I might have wanted to fight a little bit because I said "Just apologize, I'll let you go around"
"Fuck you man!" He was twitching the way little people do when they're working themselves up to fighting. Then he spun around ran back to his car and took off driving all the away off the shoulder to go around me, of course flipping me off as he went by. I started driving again and then I realized why this was a bad Idea he kept speeding up then slamming on his brakes in front of me. We were going like 20 up this 55mph country highway, and my little Subaru doesn't do off road so I had nothing to do but give him the finger and honk my horn. So I didn't. I rolled down my windows cranked up white zombies astro-creep and head banged along behind him until he got bored and drove off.. I'm such a wus sometimes, I'm not even good at road rage. I'm finally big enough to make it a good fight, and all the loudmouth shitheads don't want to scrap.. Bastards..Which reminds me when my little sister and I were boxing outside my apartment in Phoenix and the neighbor called the cops. She was winning too, because I wouldn't punch her in the face (she is a girl) and she didn't have any similar restraint. Ha happy memory..

2004-10-20T15:35:00.000-05:00

Today is my birthday and in reverse of how I've been feeling all week I feel kind of light and giddy. Today is passing relatively quickly, which is good because I'm at work, bad because this mood was not made to last. I'm thinking about a memoir book called "How to consistently pick the wrong girlfriends" or "psycho's are us" Why do good girls stalk me when it ends, and why do bad girls fight with me so much? I signed up for the 30 day blogging novel, but I'm spending all my time on this ex girlfriend list, so maybe I'll remove myself from that. FW called me today and asked "why did you get lipstick in the mail?"
"I said why are you checking my mail?"
Of course the fed ex package was accidentally opened before she noticed it was addressed to me. Actually I don't even mind, usually when she's home if a package gets there I have her open it and tell me about it on the phone. I'm like a Christmas, birthday present voyeur, always more interested in someone else's reaction to what's in the package. I still haven't told her why, but if she stopped to read mailing label she would see it was from the same costume co that I got most of my costume from. That and the fact that it's midnight black lipstick, Halloween is less than 2 weeks away, she's never seen me wear lipstick aside from the Halloween contest... Well she should be able to figure it out..

2004-10-19T10:06:00.000-05:00

Why does it bother me so much that my dad apologized for something he did in my childhood? Something minor, but still a funny story I've told at parties and just for fun. Was it because he was so sincere? Because I never expected him to apologize at all? For anything? Maybe the fact that the hundreds of other issues that lay festering in me were not addressed. Maybe because he only realized how I felt about it because I told the story to him this time. What other lapses of memory does that mind of his hold. My own is a Lorraine Swiss of tiny holes, filled sporadically by random association. Not always unpleasant what filled those holes, not even with him. I was reminded of another great time we had, so I told that story next, a little unnerved by his public apology, out loud, but serious meeting my eyes forcing me to acknowledge it. Why? Why did I try to make him feel better? Has the monster become so fragile that after all we've fought through I'm worried about injuring him? He made an effort of joking about why I was never smiling in the pictures taken of me. Even in places where everyone but myself wore sickening self satisfied delighted joyful smiles. He tried to say I hated the camera, but in every picture he was involved somehow, and a look passed between us that that was the real reason. I didn't speak it though. We have such a tenuous friendship, one visit per year by phone or at a wedding. I've gone to his house 1 time since I left the state when I was 18. Over 10 years, he visited me 1x in the same period. I skipped his second wedding in favor of my friends graduation party. Not in protest of the new wife, I approve of her. I couldn't consider going there for him and pretending we were family in truth, that was before our reconciliation. I skipped my mother's also same year, on purpose to send the message I had no favorites, but I'm wrong in both situations. They both took it in stride, nothing odd, or out of the ordinary for their second oldest.
We are so alike it makes me ill sometimes, but at the same time I still want that spark of fatherly approval to light his eyes. Do I over analyze? Doesn't such a rare thing deserve the time I've spent probing for jagged points on this new memory?
I feel vulnerable right now, I cannot feel comfortable with that, but so far I can't seem to close up on these feelings.

2004-10-15T07:58:00.000-05:00

My father's coming to my house today. First time ever coming to a place I lived since I shared his house when I was 15. We've seen each other at all the family events, even manage to have interesting phone conversations once or twice a year, but he's never been in my space before. I already feel awkward and he won't show up for another 10 hours. This year he was real sick, spent some time in a hospital, and according to his wife did not have the strength, or energy to use his weed trimmer this year. Makes me scared that now he's stopping in to see me. Is he on his last legs? A farewell tour? My next youngest brother told me he had a good conversation with my dad also. he lives right up the street and sees him pretty often though. Change happens, I don't regret it or fear it, at least I try not to. He's just barely over 50 though, too young to be sick for an eagle scout who never smoked or drank to excess...

2004-10-08T09:32:00.000-05:00

You know what I really hate about offices..
I just worked out a new procedure for something relatively small between us and another department. I spent 15 min discussing it with my boss and ironing out any sections that could offend someone important from anywhere else. I type up a concise, detailed plan of action, which actually is going to remove 2-5 steps of work for every person involved...
and then...
And then!!!
The stupid jerks who I just copied out of politeness, have to jump in with a slew of emails, "How does this affect this? it doesn't. How does this work on Tuesdays? The same as Mondays A-hole.
I know damn well they just can't stand an interdepartmental e-mail going by them without their name stamped on it somewhere. Just in case someone important sees it, so they can be impressed at how "on top of things" they are.
Stupid Fockers
I am so not cut out for the corporate lifestyle. I can't bend over far enough to let THEM really lay into me, so I'll probably never climb higher than non consequential desk jockey.

2004-10-05T15:31:00.000-05:00

I spent all weekend re-covering bathroom walls in FMIL's new trailer's bathroom. I actually didn't mind doing it, a chance to flex my fix it muscles, and actually do some work that has an appreciable finish. I worked over 8 hrs on Sat and finished up in a record 9 hours sunday. I'm fairly handy, but after this insane project next time I will just be painting or wallpapering. What I actually did was to sheath all the walls with painted/ patterned board that FW fwll in love with. Now that it's up it looks pretty good, but all the seams and corners had to be covered with special types of trim. I'm glad to say it's done and the experience it has given me proves it's not worth doing. Granted it's a 2 room bathroom vanity / bathroom, but it would have been faster and easier to remove every wall of both rooms entirely and replace them. Add to the headache replacing the shower / tub faucets and hardware (since I was in there anyway) replacing a ceiling exhaust fan... I was glad to have yesterday off to relax, but today I'm still tired. At least I'm almost done fixing FMIL's house, she just moved in and the last owner was wrecked the place. I just have a few windows to replace..
So the score stands at;
repainted 4 rooms, kitchen, and bathroom
covered new paint job with sheath board in bathroom
replaced 8 electrical outlest that were painted shut
fixed one screen door screen
replaced exhaust fan
replaced trim in 2 bedrooms
hung shelves in two bedrooms
assembled and installed bathroom cupboard
installed new Gas range
installed dryer vent
added threshold for front screen door

It doesn't sound like as much work as it was for me to do. I'm just learning though, and if I had to do all these things again I could probably finish them in just one weekend(maybe not the painting.) instead of two weekends and seven 1to2 hour nights after work..

2004-10-05T07:12:00.000-05:00

Thanks, Johnnie Walker, This doesn't seem good... Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	High
Schizoid:	Moderate
Schizotypal:	High
Antisocial:	High
Borderline:	Moderate
Histrionic:	Moderate
Narcissistic:	High
Avoidant:	Moderate
Dependent:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Low
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

2004-10-01T08:02:00.000-05:00

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday, and here as we breach the wall into October I start my spin into Halloween!! Yippeee!
I am making my own mask this year, I downloaded tons of instructions and tonight me and FW are going to make a mold of my face. I'm going to skillfully (we'll see) mold some sort of demonic or weird new likeness onto my face mold, then recast it and make it out of latex bits that will then be painted and glued to my face. Easy huh?
So I imagine for the next couple weeks I will grunt and swear and realize yet again why I did not become a sculptist?? Anyway..
FW has a black and purple velvet victorian/goth outfit I bought for her 2 years ago, A laced long dress with extra long sleeves and a black velvet cape w/ hood. Long black gloves, shiny black boots, and a mask. Every year so far a different feathered mask, unspeakably lovely. With the remainder of her face done a pale white with dark full red lips. I should stop before I get embarrassed here at work. I on the other hand have not been quite so low maintenance. My costume last year only ran $150, the year before it was over $300. I just have to be scary and menacing and realistic. No cheezy vampires or monsters for me, and up to this year I have paid top money for real leather costumes and accessories. The masks alone..So this year decided to make my own, hopefully I'll be scary. I already spotted the outfit, so I'm safely under the $100 limit I set this year.
My biggest problem though has always been naming what I dressed as, last year a skeletal barbarian king?? quite a mouthful after a night of drinking. By 1 o'clock i was just "Something fuckin' scary" By 2 I was "scary" by three me and FW were in a screaming match because girls kept coming up to me in the club and rubbing my armor. Well a man strapped in leather and metal spikes attracts a certain type of woman.. This year depending on my sculpting skills I will be a demonic scary person who's really tall with a dark flowing manly yet elegant outfit that will try his best to scare children before going out dancing for the night" Whoo hoo! Then again I have all month to change my mind and see if I can still wear the superman costume from 4 years ago.. In that case how revealing the spandex is, is the true horror...

2004-09-29T13:45:00.000-05:00

My father was brought down, down to my size.
I've had him in my head, screaming from my past.
I kept him from my heart, held him in shadow.
Now the monster died, regret taints my every memory
.He's not the same man I knew, I'm not the same I know.
The anger festers though, seething too close to the skin.

My father was brought down, down to my size.
The memories of his glare, the snap and snarl of teeth.
The frustration madness, stomping screaming, bitter tears.
The rage, this temper I have inherited,I still lay blame.
I can't stop being him, exploding, unable to apologize.
Lurking inside me I feel it, waiting for any mistake.

My father was brought down, down to my size.
Never a hero of mine, now we can't say what we mean.
Pregnant pauses, threading our talk of weather.
Now he's ill and I'm concerned, almost against my will.
He won't ask for any help or even mention, I won't offer.
We are both shut out, as we try to include each other.

My father was brought down, down to my size.
It wasn't me, it was life, the world.
Now that I'm too much him, with so much less to lose.
Will I be brought down too, humbled lonely saddened.
I'm softer than he is or was, something I can respect.
The lessons I have learned, didn't teach me to expect this.

2004-09-28T10:40:00.000-05:00

The company in an effort to keep it's remaining employees happy and productive have instituted a "Wellness" program. Instead of hiring the $8-$9 per hour office assistants to alleviate the burden we feel do to an increase in job abandonment, in conjunction with our current hiring freeze. Starting today a massuese is available for employee use at a cost for $10 for a 15 minute session. The balance of the cost will be paid by the company, and employees must use their break or lunch time to participate. Due to an overflow of requests, the company has expanded a once weekly visit to, 2 times weekly. I'm not an accountant but follow the math:
15 min massage at the mall $20-$30
For $20 company pays : $10 per session
for two 6 hour days at 15 min per session : 48 sessions
Cost per week :$480 per week

Being generous $9.00 ph employee 40 hrs :$360
Add 10% for insurance pd by co $396 per week

Granted hiring 1 employee would only allieviate the workload for possible 1-3 people so we would technically need 15-20 new employees to return to the same level we were last year at this time, and since sales are up this year.. Well I could go on all day, the main point of this. I asked one of our accountants how they felt after their massage, She said "It felt so good"
I asked someone else how she felt now, "Like taking a nap."
I asked someone else how do you feel about work, "I don't want to think about it."
Granted what a waste of time for me to ask all those people but you see my point. I would probably go to the massuese but I don't like people touching me except for sex, and some family hugs. I also will not pay someone to touch me, even for a massage. I can give FW massages, she can give me some. She doesn't even try anymore though, everytime I try to relax for even a shoulder rub from her we end up having sex. I can't help it, she touches me I want her. I'm sure this would not carry over to the 240 pound lady giving massages, but why on earth would I want to be rubbed without the benefit of a much happier ending.

2004-09-24T08:56:00.001-05:00

I don't understand people, I was walking by two of them in the hall and one pretentious twit was saying how he was leaving our co to follow his dream to work in the medical pharmaceutical field helping discover blah blahOn and on, not horrible but yesterday they sent companywide Ememo that he had accepted a position with ********* as Safety Coordinator. That co is right across the street. It's the one that pays poor people to undertake studies for this or that drug. Medical experimentation YaY!!! It's not really a prestigious company, and it has a really bad reputation for kicking people out of the studies late in the game, thus shortening their payouts. The FW had gone there once and ended up spending 3 whole days getting physicalled and filling out forms only to be denied from the program, thus ineligible for any monetary reward. This might influence my opinion of the workplace, but back to the guy.. Did he read their mission statement and fall in love? Is he the perfect parrot for corporate processes? Did he forget he is no longer in the interview and forget to turn off his asskissing program? WTF-he took a higher paid job, or a better job, or a more fun job. If he was a doctor or a scientist I could understand the babble but he was a salesman, he rides the cash register in our factory showroom. He spends 2 hours a day out on the loading dock smoking and hitting on the C/S girls who do all seem to like him, but I've seen a few give him a strange look when his wife and 2yr old daughter show up at the office to pick him up at the end of the day. Maybe that's why he's leaving stuck his whoo whoo dilly in the wrong tallywacker and now he's gotta run...

2004-09-24T07:52:00.000-05:00

Going camping this weekend, finally cool enough most of the bugs are dead. I can't wait to get away from everyone. I mean everyone!
Last night few saw Russell Crowe singing on TV, starry eyed she stared at the set, I decided to take a shower, something fired her up next thing I know she was in there with me. Whoo Hoo! I personally don't care who starts the car, but I'm the only driver..
Went to bed angry though, we were talking and something came on she wanted to see so without a word to me she just cranked the volume and turned away. Grrr We weren't talking about anything interesting, but how rude...
So I says "WTF?"
She says "huh?"
I say "Is our conversation over?"
She says " I wanted to hear this"
I say "Next time fuckin tell me to hold on, or excuse me or something"
only memorable because usually I would have ignored such an incident, but I was feeling rather thin skinned last night, culmination of too much work and then spending 2-4 hrs after work every night at FMIL's trying to repair that house. Now I'm in a bad spot, I lost my temper so I should apologize, but she was rude so she should, but she won't apologize for being rude unless I apologize for losing my temper which in her head is obviously the greater crime. So whenever something like this happens I have two responses, I say something like this
"Ok I'm sorry for snapping at you, but that was rude." or
I just wait while she gets all moody and quiet, which she will carry on for 2-3 days entirely ruining the weekend, because every once in a while when she gives me that stiff silence I'll say
"What!?"
"Nothing." she replies, possibly sighing quietly.
"Then don't look at me like that." Being tactful and calm...
"Like what?" she gets ready to launch into full fight mode.
"If you have a problem say something, if not don't ruin my weekend." I give her the glare that she hates. The one I inherited from my father that makes me look evil.
tears
rinse
repeat.
So in order to enjoy my weekend I have to apologize. GRRR
Well I have all day to come to terms with it, or decide to fight. I hate relationships.

2004-09-22T16:07:00.000-05:00

Well, now I know. I always thought I was brroding and deeply insightful.. Must be the liquor talking..

What Kind of Drunk Are You?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

2004-09-22T13:28:00.000-05:00

Ha ha
Can't get me... Your Kung Fu is weak...
Too much fun when people proclaim you wrong publicly before really checking the nuts and bolts of your procedure. Busted nyah nyah nyah
Ok gloating is also not so good, but I hate people questioning my work. I even hate my boss to question my work and that's his job.. So I can take when I have to, and I almost don't mind when it turns out something I did is incorrect, but I absolutely hate it when I'm right and I know I am and can walk right to the correct section of the SOP manual and point out a line that clearly outlines the exact procedure I do. I'm not saying I follow the manual, because I don't I'm lazy as hell, and the only reason I work is to get paid, and waste time until the weekend. I do know the procedures though. It makes it easier to cut corners and to defend my work from feeble minded co-workers.
Her problem is boss just made her senior member of the department, she took that acknowledgement without a change in title or pay, simply a recognition of seniority.
I guess that's why he didn't offer it to me. I wouldn't do it without more money. Period.
The whole company supports an international charity. Each year they do little activities and wear a hat to work day for $1 to support it, which I think is not a bad Idea. I don't want to spend a dollar I don't wear a hat. Fair's fair. Unfortunately they cross the line by holding 3 separate pep rallies where you can go if you want and they try to talk you into making a donation of at least 1% of your salary. I work by the hour and get paid very little for what I do, I do not need to be solicited at work to give away some of my money which I just got from the company. I'm good enough at spending it myself, thank you. Today my boss, and the VP of finance (the next boss up in the chain) have both asked me which meeting I'm planning on attending. Of course I blew up my corporate track by snorting a sarcastic laugh and saying "Neither" Oh well no bonuses for me this year, maybe they'll take it and give it to the charity in my name.. I just calculated 1% of my salary requires me to work 20.8 hours to pay off. Or 13.9 hours of overtime. I suppose that's the same for everybody just the $ amount changes..I think they are cheering in the pep rally right now. What I wouldn't give for a pumpsprayer full of gasoline right now....

2004-09-22T07:10:00.000-05:00

Last night I arrive home to find the neighbor has thoughtfully fixed the screens in future MIL's house. To bad when you close the screen door the impact of it shutting has popped the mesh right off. Too bad that frame and the frame on the back door which he did for the last lady who lived there are bent beyond repair. Too bad no one ever taught this man how to think. Worse, she paid him for the material and will not ask for the money back, because she never asked him to do it in the first place, and he never asked for any money. Seems moron is a laid off gas station attendant??? He thinks himself quite the handy man however, and being 60-ish to 70ish is exempt from any physical pain I might wish to rain down on his tinkering head. So today after work I will be stopping and purchasing more screen, because the sections he cut are almost an inch to short on each side, hence the bent frames. I told FMIL to tell him to fuck off, but of course she won't so I asked FW (future wife) to use her best nursing home voice and explain that We don't want him to interfere with FMIL's house anymore. If he does then I get to talk to him, and I will say simply. "If you attempt to repair anything else in her (FMIL) house I will drag you into court to pay damages on everything you've broken or ruined so far." Not a bad way to go, though I would prefer to go over with my ball peen hammer "Yo fucko! You touch that fuckin' house again I'm gonna come ova' and fix you!" accentuated with pokes in the chest from a 12oz ball peen hammer. I'll even drag out the South Jersey accent which I tried to illustrate above. Or I could go redneck: "Iffen you touch my ma's trailer one more time you no good sombitch. I'm gonna break you into 15 pieces and feed you to my dog."

2004-09-21T13:11:00.000-05:00

I've been doing a lot of home improvement on the weekends, I don't have my own home but thanks to numerous friends and relatives I do have enough homes to work on. I've always been more interested in working with my hands than able to. Now It seems there is an unceasing demand for my labor, most notably from relatives. My way too reasonable prices probably are driving the market, but I actually do seem to be accomplishing quite a bit. My prices of course are the usual, beer and food. What I won't do for relatives... I'm picking up a wide variety of different skills though, and having an easier time talking to my male relatives who both have worked in home construction at one time or another. I know the names of almost all the tools I own and can use them all. Whoo hoo, almost a real man Gepetto...
Anyway after finishing up a bathroom project for my future mother in law, she called to tell me she had shown her bathroom to over 5 different neighbors and 3 of them want me to do the same to their bathrooms. Problem is I don't have a clue what would be reasonable to charge. Since hers was the first bathroom I've done like this it took me three 6-8 hour days to finish. But now that I know how to apply the different trims and wall boards I'm pretty sure I could finish a normal sized bathroom in 1 day (6 hours).
We'll have to see what kind of offers they make, and if indeed they are serious, we'll then have to see if I really can do it...

2004-09-21T07:32:00.000-05:00

I have definitely been lax on my own writing. Getting lazy and just letting it slide. A subtle reminder yesterday as I was raking the shelves in the used book store and came to a rack of books which were a dollar. Not a dollar used though. Dollar brand new. Huh- I leafed through a couple and definitely not worth a dollar. Hardly worth picking up, yet how can I criticize? How many books have I published? Or even completed?
So as a consumer I turned my nose up, as a prospective writer I first felt a little jealous, but as I considered it I realized what a shame it is that these other authors would be so desperate to be published they would let such low grade writing be put in the public. It's unmemorable surely, but if they go to a serious publisher and cite this book as an example of previously published writing they're sunk, tanked, shot in the foot. Do you suppose they had second thoughts after they saw it in print? Did the fact that the publisher didn't even offer a hardcover version not faze them? Did they sell the story without thinking and lose any control? Did they get paid for that story?
I worry that someday that might be the only way I'll ever see my work in print. That all those journals and notebooks stacked under my bed will offer nothing greater than a few stories or poems that sound co-written by first year high school creative writing students. Have I improved since then. I think so, but maybe like the authors of dollar books I've just started to delude myself. Begun to see something that wasn't there. It's too early in the day to continue on this branch.

2004-09-17T15:59:00.000-05:00

I'm not a damn hippie. filthy little hippies set me up..

20 Questions to a Better Personality
Wackiness: 46/100
Rationality: 30/100
Constructiveness: 54/100
Leadership: 46/100

You are a SECF--Sober Emotional Constructive Follower. This makes you a Hippie.You are passionate about your causes and steadfast in your commitments. Once you've made up your mind, no one can convince you otherwise. Your politics are left-leaning, and your lifestyle choices decidedly temperate and chaste.You do tremendous work when focused, but usually you operate somewhat distracted. You blow hot and cold, and while you normally endeavor on the side of goodness and truth, you have a massive mean streak which is not to be taken lightly. You don't get mad, you get even.Please don't get even with this web site.Of the 25152 people who have taken this quiz since tracking began (8/17/2004), 10.9 % are this type.

2004-09-17T08:28:00.000-05:00

Ok that's what I get for trying too hard.. I shouldn't write poetry online anyway, It doesn't leave a solid record.. That'll teach me. Welcome to the flip flop..

2004-09-17T08:19:00.000-05:00

Last night was a great night, and I wrote up a great description of It and I was happy. Then When I hit publish this stupid fucking blog made it fucking dissappear and I'm too pissed off to rewrite it. t's ridiculous that I could let a computer affect my entire mood like this.54jhenpi

2004-09-09T13:17:00.000-05:00

When I was 13, my friend John had a birthday party at the mall. That's what his parents thought anyway, instead John Dave and I spent the entire rainy day at the mall kicking up trouble. All I remember us doing however was walking to a nearby gas station to buy smokes. The rest a blur, I do have a picture of us in one of those booths. My face pimpled long-ish hair combed in a not so greasy DA, Dave curly black hair, and a big black cowboy hat with a hint of a chin showing in the shadow that was John. Such a sinister picture when he died a few years later. It's the only picture I ever had of him, and he had to wear that damn cowboy hat in it.
I'm sure the whole car ride home I reeked of cigarettes, my father gritting his teeth in ominous silence, I could feel the tension building the entire drive. He never looked at me or even slightly turned towards me. The radio shut off, the vents not blowing just sounds from the street and the car and my dads heavy breathing. When we got home he at me to "come here" right after I leapt out of the car, making a run for the bathroom. I yelled sorry I had to go to the bathroom and raced up the stairs.
My dad knew I smoked, and he hated it. He never ever caught me with cigarettes though. He never gave me any cash as soon as he started thinking I was smoking, but I used to shoplift them or get money from other places to buy them. That night I had 3 or four packs of smokes on me, and he thought he had me. I remember being panicked. I was trapped in the bathroom with them, I knew he was standing at the stairs glaring at the door, I'd have no chance to go anywhere else. I wrapped them and my lighter in a thin towel tied it in a knot and lowered it into the heater vent tucking just the corner of the towel under the register cover. It was perfect you couldn't even tell it was blocked. I strolled out all innocent and smiling right smack into my dad who had followed me upstairs and was standing in the doorway.
My legs were all jelly and I was trying very hard not to look terrified. My father had a weird sense of rules. If he couldn't prove you were doing wrong he couldn't punish you, but if he found something he turned insane. Couldn't control his temper, worse if he found out you had lied to him, like I had millions of times about smoking. He pointed at the stairs and growled sit there don't move. and stormed the bathroom. He tore through it for over an hour checking and rechecking, even going outside and checking the yard and the roof before he gave up. The entire time I sat on the step, then when he got done looking he sat down in the living room. I knew what he wanted, he wanted me to leave the step so he'd have a reason to punish me. One creak of that step and he would have charged out yelling. I sat there for hours, through dinner, even past bedtime for my younger siblings. Dad didn't come out in the hallway, if he saw me he'd have to deal with me or I would ask him if it was ok to move, and he'd have to answer. My mother eventually went to bed too, stopping to touch my face and give me a sad look. She knew I would always buck my Dad. My brothers would have gone to dinner breaking the command and just taken the yelling rather than waiting. I never would, I hated how transparent he was at those times with his temper roiling and flaring so close to breaking out. I waited and waited until finally around 10:30 he came up to bed and then he let me go to bed. Questions: Was I a coward for not letting him punish me, and get it over with? Did I build up the tension between us so much I had to be righteously indignant over every suspicion or risk punishment for everything?
Living with my Dad encouraged the lie, his punishments were so severe, that getting "caught" doing anything was terrifying. We had to lie to survive and when he found out our lies we tried to take it. It only taught us next time be more careful, don't get caught, don't slip up. Don't poke the bear.

2004-09-09T07:29:00.000-05:00

Day two week from hell, thank god there's only 3 days this week. Unfortunate me went home to find we were dogsitting, the offenders not showing up to pick up their wiener dog until 9:30. Hate that dog. Too cute and helpless looking to despise properly. To small weak yappy to enjoy spending time with. I practiced my glare though, and can make the dog roll onto his back and whimper quietly from up to 5 feet. Then again the dog is about the size of my boot, and I've almost stepped on him several times.
Today 4 people leave before noon?? WTF! Who's approving these schedules? So after noon there's me and 2 people who don't even do the same kind of work as myself and couldn't help me if they wanted to. I hate talking about work so I'm going to stop.

2004-09-08T07:23:00.000-05:00

Just back from a long weekend to find that nearly everybody in the department decided to take a few days off for the remainder of this week. Probably retaliation for me taking yesterday as an extra day, but since I only work 4 days a week on holiday weeks I also get a day off. So live with it.
I guess though since they aren't here I'm the one who gets to deal with it, because I don't exactly have anyone to complain to. Even if it would do any good. I can be sure however the added stress of us being extra shorthanded this week will no doubt encourage little miss smokes too much to continue to pursue a new career. She's one foot out the door already, thinks it's a marvelous secret but she told the wrong gossip.. So it's no secret anymore.
On a different note. Myself and my significant other had a very active sexual day, and either she is sore, or just completely happy because for the rest of the weekend (the last 2 days) no lovemaking, sex, or raunchy kink. Despite the fact that by the numbers I'm probably ahead of where I would be on a normal weekend, I am feeling deprived and a bit shaky horny today. Unfortunately I'm too busy to think that much about it so it will probably drive me nuts distracting me throughout the day, I'll probably text her something nasty later hopefully to lock down some passion fort tonight..

2004-08-31T09:21:00.000-05:00

As August draws to a close I begin to fall into the season melancholy I experience every fall. It is my favorite season with the changing of leaves and bittering of winds. Maybe I just revel in my own depression this time of year. The whole world finally meets my mood, even though the mood is created my the world around me. The rest of the year I'm in almost manic flux, but for the fall months I begin to understand "Exquisite sorrow" the most prominent of Oriental themes ( in my opinion) such a glorious state of being to wrap your soul in a shroud of impenetrable sadness, looking with dead eyes on a dying world, finally feeling that you can match the pace of life as it marches to the grave. Watching with wry amusement as the creatures around you scurry and strive to keep some order in the world, finally feeling connected to all the strangers as you realize we all have death in common. All around us all the time the world is quieting. Fox and wild turkeys are venturing from the brood, teens in the human sense out to find their place in the world no longer cry out in their youthful excess, instead creep silently into the lands of violence and danger. I'm sure glad I'm at work today.

2004-08-27T07:29:00.000-05:00

Brown eyed girl revisited, I have such strong memories about this person that so far I have not been satisfied with my attempts to describe her. In H.S. I had a friend who was a girl. We dated briefly, made out a few times, but never got serious. I think I probably got too emotionally invested which scared her a little. We never really fought though and ended in friendship, something I haven't managed with many people I've dated. She was an Italian girl with long thick blackish brown hair, and deep brown eyes. Her eyes reflected her emotions so vividly, it seemed you never had to look at the rest of her face to see how she felt. I liked to though, she had a classic face with no imperfections, full lips that drew back into beautiful stunning smiles. She was almost a "new waver" but more active almost tom-boyish. She was a bit of a hippy, but still prone to be violent in a half kidding way.
I knew her for a while but we did not actually talk or anything until one night at a local carnival, a friend and myself had acquired my very first pot. We smoked and were wandering euphoric when we ran into her and her friends. I normally was shy and quiet on first impression with everyone, then when I felt comfortable with someone I spontaneously shifted to high energy, mischievous, joking, open, friendly, etc... "Something" about this night was different, and I walked right up to her and started chattering away, pretty much ignoring everyone else. It was magic, we started hanging out, she was a brilliant guitar player and I used to sit and watch her play for hours. Cradling her guitar, her hair half tossed over her shoulder half hanging down hiding her face while she watched the frets. She was shy about her talent, but still played all the time, she would punch you if you complimented her too much, and when she was feeling good she always called me "kid" Odd choice, but she was the only one who ever did that, it was her style entirely. I googled her name and under the images section there actually appears to be a picture of her, a little older maybe, but small enough I can't be positive. We ran into each other a few times after, she always seemed happy to see me, a great no maintenance friendship. One of the good kinds where whenever you see each other you still feel comfortable just stopping and talking about everything right on the spot. I don't have a lot of that, maybe it was just a gift she had for making me that comfortable. Maybe we just had the right mix of personality to complement each other. In any case, it would be good to see her again, find out what she's done, how she's been doing..

2004-08-25T07:44:00.000-05:00

I dreamed of an old friend last night, not sure I was the best friend at the time. I feel sad about it so I sent him an e-mail to the last address I had for him. Time has changed me so much I can only imagine him. A note on a different friend, how come only one of us made it to or through college to success. Why can't the rest of us become in synch with the world. Too much dreaming? Too many hopes? I'd like to see my other friends succeed to great fame and riches and success, whatever they want. Not just so I can hit them up for money, I probably wouldn't. I already gave up on fitting in, besides doing the bare minimum to have my rent and food and liquor and recreation I don't strive for anything. I want things, comfort success pride self respect, but I don't strive for it, I feel out of synch with everyone I talk to and spend the rest of the time feeling very much socially awkward and slightly separated.
Well buddy here's to you:

Laughing grinning times
old friendships are remembered
Friends turn gray in tears

2004-08-24T16:30:00.000-05:00

this weekend I went fishing for the first time since my Grandfather died. He was the last person I went fishing with and that was over 2 years ago. I became aware of how much I missed out on by avoiding him for the couple years I lived up here. I couldn't ID any of the fish I caught, he knew them all. I forgot how to tie a fisherman's knot. I don't know how to fish for muskie, or pike, or northerns. He knew almost everything about fishing. I was the only one who shared the interest with him, and I let him go without learning any of the wisdom he gained over his entire lifetime.

Granted he lived half the year in FL, and the other half up here, but during the here time I didn't make any effort to see him.

I met him for my birthday shortly after I moved up here he bought me lunch, and we barely talked I was so uncomfortable.

I spent some great time with him after my sister's wedding for a whole afternoon in SC. It made me sad to see how weak and sick he was. He bought me lunch, I felt guilty for letting him, but I didn't have any money. We drove around for the day and really talked, looking at buildings and antique stores.
I went fishing with him for 2 days in a row out on his boat, we finally made it past whatever was holding us apart. That summer he had the stroke and died about 1/2 year later.

Growing up he was always my favorite relative, i spent a summer with him alone when I was 12 and he had a HALO (medical brace that screwed into your head to hold your neck and shoulders immobile) he fixed his lawnmower so I could ride it then I promptly ran over his grapevines and some rhubarb.
When I was little he caught me stealing a soda from his fridge, proved it was fresh by how cold it was, then for the ffirst time in my life I was punished for something by him telling me he was ashamed of me. I almost died.
Enough of this..

2004-08-19T07:17:00.000-05:00

Today is the last day like today will ever be. Actually the last few weeks have been a sort of high pressure mix of deadlines, and training. Someone from our office is leaving and they are not replacing her some we are all getting new duties, plus they are dragging in people from other departments to help fill the gaps. This whole time we are trying to teach the people inheriting things what they need to do, while having other people try to teach us. If this wasn't enough to do the BOSS has added a big drive to clean up all the little messes which are involved in these duties. These messes do not go away. They are inherent in the job. If I can manage to remove every problem before I lose the duties, I can almost guarantee (aside from a complete collapse in our customer base) the same problems will be back and multiplied since the people handling them have never done so before. The problem in the system of course is the customer themselves. Unless he (the BOSS) can make all the customers stand in line, never get confused, always pay whatever we say with no question... Yeah not going to happen.. But I'm off for the weekend after tonight until Tuesday and all the new divisions will be in effect on Monday so everyone has a whole day to troubleshoot and try to work out the bugs before I get back. I didn't plan this on purpose but it really works out. Almost everyone in my office is a panic explosion waiting to happen, so I imagine a lot of chatter, sniping maybe even some crying. Women in an office can be so cruel to each other, but that same cruelty seems to just slide by me.. Lesson? I don't care if miss too much perfume, or miss diets twice a month, or miss smokes 25 cigarettes a day during work, or miss must follow every period of the rules and smile at the same time no matter what before I break down quietly at home (yeah I got your number), think of me or say about me. Just leave me be, we'll have small talk and I won't think of you once I leave the front door of this office..

2004-08-17T08:14:00.000-05:00

I had the strangest dream last night. ~~~~~
I woke up after dreaming I was madly in love with someone. My friend from grade school was there and as I was waking up he told me that the person I loved was dead. I completely freaked out on him beating him with a broomstick and sobbing and crying. He didn't fight back, he said he understood sometimes dreams could seem so real that in that waking moment all the emotions and feelings were as real to me as the rest of the world. I felt terrible for attacking him, but was still mad at him for telling me. I could not stop mourning the death even though I was awake and walking around. A few girls from high school I was friends with were there and trying to help me get over it. The kept making me talk about it so I would realize the person from my dream wasn't real. I couldn't stop being sad, I kept crying different friends showed up and kept hugging me, reassuring me. Part of me knew the truth but I was unable to break away from it.
After I really woke up I still felt sad but the feeling faded so quickly that I finally realized It was all a dream.
I came to work and wrote a poem about my eyes that was depressing. Today I feel cut off a little from reality.

2004-08-16T09:57:00.000-05:00

Monday morning and I think I may have an ulcer. Not an exaggerated reference to the level of stress I feel. A real honest to goodness hole in the stomach ulcer. I took stuff this weekend I would have been better off not taking and spent all weekend hunched over as sharp throbs emanated from my stomach. Everything I ate I could feel reach a certain spot inside me and release waves of cramping sharp pain. Then gradually it went away, leaving just a slightly unsettled feeling. Then this morning as I got a little worked up over some stupid jerk on the phone I could feel my stomach roiling (a bubbling rolling feeling) then the pain started again.. Maybe stress has caught up with me. I'm no longer able to avoid the panic and anger and frustration that other people always seemed inundated with. Now I'm just like them, my laid back attitude no linger protecting me from my own cares and worries..
I talked to my father Thursday night. The last night free from pain though my face was a bit swollen, and I was slightly under the influence.. He called me on his way home from work which was about 10 my time- 11 his. He must have had some strong coffee, or lots of soda because for the first time I can ever recall he was chatty. We talked about the recent flooding and recipes and my job, my cousins just about everything. Talking right up until I assume his phone ran out of juice (cell phone) he had warned me the battery was low so I didn't try calling him back.. I don't think talking to him gave me any real revelations, or for that matter any problems or answers, but it was an enjoyable phone call regardless, and hopefully my
slight intoxication did not interfere..

2004-08-11T15:04:00.000-05:00

Don't make me come over there! menace menace
I'm not very scary by type, unless you happen to be a spell checker..
I talked to my brother last night, he has 2 of the most beautiful little girls, he is such a hippie though I always wondered if he would spoil them. To my surprise though he is very firm with them, nd with the exception of the 1 year old can make his 4 year old mind him.. I guess he had to use a bar of soap on her once. the old Ivory bar ugh how terrible are those memories..
He now carries a small bar of soap with him in a little ziplock bag, but hasn't needed to use it since. He's turning into a kinder gentler Dad. Hee Hee.
He told me he just ran out of options, his neighbor's little girl has a foul mouth and a temper, he can actually see it rubbing off on her. He's actually going to be moving soo. My whole family has some sort of roots problem.. Must be that Navy childhood.

2004-08-10T15:56:00.000-05:00

I have started to write in earnest. I am going to enter Bravo Channels write a sit-com contest. I hope that if they reject you they send out a notification. I hate not having any answer at all. I'm basing my characters on a few of my closer friends. Not our stories but their idiosyncrasies (I think)
It would be nice to win. The winner gets a free agent for a year and $25k. I figure I just want the free agent to take my poetry compilations to different publishers and sell it for me. I'm too cowardly to try to get my own work published, stories and prose I don't mind but my poetry is my soul..
My sister is happy to be out of her marriage, she is not divorced but she is glad to live by herself. It was scary according to my mom that her husband didn't seem to mind at all. He was a little too laid back for a man who just lost his wife and two kids. He makes me a little nervous..
I have started a separate blog with just stories both true and fiction. I won't disclose which is which, hopefully no one will be able to tell the difference.

2004-07-26T14:53:00.000-05:00

Today is my sisters birthday, i think I was one of the first to say Happy Birthday to her she actually said "You Rock" how odd for her..
I'm tired today, but it is probably because of the nyquil I drank last night. I don't think I'll write any poetry today, though I have been trying to get something posted to my website early every week.

2004-07-20T07:58:00.000-05:00

I have decided to sit back and bide my time, see what happens with my sister befor e I go poking my nose in. I dropped her a line let her know I do care. I also am moving this month so going over 900 miles to help her is difficult at best. I figure next week after all the gossip has trickled down I'll call my brother and find out if it's for sure and if anyone is intending to help her. if not then I guess i'll take a bus and try to give her a hand..

2004-07-19T15:51:00.000-05:00

My sister has told me she is leaving her husband. I am not against it, she married too early had children too early. At least for my taste...
She asks for help moving her things to a new apartment, then lets me know he does not know she's leaving yet. Which is not a bad thing. It might be easier, safer. She says she might not get the apartment, so she can't tell him yet, but she has told everyone she knows, except him. The duplicity of my sister stuns me. It is hard to know that she plays the same games as other women I have reviled and hated. But I will go help her move nonetheless.. I have no children myself but how will she deal with their 2 children. Is she being petty and spiteful...? I feel mean to think so, but her husband seems so harmless. And if I'm wrong about that I will beg for her forgiveness forever after I twist his head off.

2004-07-19T08:08:00.000-05:00

So to spice up my life I am now running a work blog and a life blog. This is the life blog. It's fun trying to keep the two separate.. Maybe we'll see since I've been ignoring this for a while. Too many changes. I've moved to a new apartment, I am awaiting some initiative to pull together my book of poetry which I believe is all written and just needs to be compiled. My poetry was always my secret passion. short stories and ideas I am never afraid to expose to the world, but I'm more sensitive about my poetry and don't like to think of exposing it to the harshness of other peoples eyes..

2004-06-07T10:35:00.000-05:00

I'm having no luck, of course the things I'm hoping far have such slim chances of happening that it's almost a given they won't, but still I hope and I feel unlucky because these long odds things aren't happening. Talk about creating my own misery.

2004-05-27T12:07:00.000-05:00

I was number nine on a call in contest today that wanted number 10. So close.. I don't even know what the prize would be, but it would have felt good to win something.
I looked at my feet they look tired and old, so many weird little spots and marks. I'm sure I had pretty feet once.
My hands are so soft still from my idle life, they have no character of their own. I look and they could be anyone's. They shouldn't be mine, not if I was the man I want to be.
They would be iron strong with callous, deep grained with rubbed in earth. My hands are a writer's hands, firm gripped and steady, the only callous a pad above the last knuckle of my middle finger. Now typing is taking that from me. Maybe all my fingers will develop little pads on them.

2004-05-26T11:51:00.000-05:00

Frustrated by a lack of options, our hero decides to take drastic steps. After several drastic steps including the preparation and comsumption of several well made manhattens our hero decides to take crooked steps.

2004-05-20T12:01:00.000-05:00

Where have all the good times gone?
Random question week continues..
I brought my materials to write some of my story today but I don't think I'm going to. I'm running out of steam on the idea, just barely started. I'm writing out of my field of expertise, I just don't seem to have any rhythmn or flow.
Oh well i think I will try again to get Sci-Fi.com to accept a short story. They rejected me before, but they can't scare me, if anything I will just keep flooding them with my stories until the breakdown from sheer volume. I'm not very good at sci-fi though. At staying with such a technically accurate story, and making it believable.

2004-05-19T15:01:00.000-05:00

Do you like me like me? Or Just like me?
A little blonde redneck actually asked me that once. I had just started hanging with a group of girls from a new school I was going to. Junior year of high school, her family lived in an overcrowded house. Overcrowded with people, babies, pets, and had flies crawling all over the ceiling. I remember it smelling like cats.
I do not recall her name, though she was interesting at the time. Good looking and tough, perhaps a little too tough for me. I was flirting heavy with someone else but she was more forceful. She got me alone in her bedroom and we started kissing before I even realized she was interested. That's when she pulled back and asked the question. Do you like me like me? Or do you just like me? I thought it was even odder given how she was at least a year older than me and it sounded grade-schoolish to me. I told her of course I liked her, and she pretend pouted until we started making out. We never actually dated but we did spend a day or so together before I realized she just wasn't my type. We never had sex either which is great considering how many babies seemed to revolve around that house.
A very short time later I ended up getting together with the original girl at a party at her house. Dancing to stairway to heaven that first kiss was all electricity and bubbles, how amazed I was at that moment. The blond of course had not been notified of our change in relationship. A few kisses though.. Ehh.. I ended up calling her horrible names and yelling at her until she cried, because I was worried she would try to start a fight. Eventually she must have left because I don't recall her after that moment...
Any guy will tell you that he loves a good catfight. But if you love one of the girls how can you want that? When she looks at you with wide scared eyes it just drops you through the floor. You start looking for something to kill just to prove to her you can keep her safe.
Auurugghh me cave man (beats chest wildly)me strong me protect (picks fleas from hairy chest and stares at them with interest) AAuuureuugghh