Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Got my hair tie...Got my beer...I'm ready to go

My day today can be summed up with the title of one of Clint Eastwood's spagetthi westerns.

The Good:

Timing.

My timing was impeccable today. First there was my first cup of coffee. As those of you who read my blog know I got downstairs just in time to hear my coffee pot groaning out the last drops (sorry for the image there). Then there was lunch. My Pops (have I mentioned that he lives with me?) made grilled pastrami and swiss cheese on rye bread for lunch. My lunch lift and I arrived just as Poppa was taking the food off the griddle. Fuck they were good. So good, in fact, that we had them for dinner as well.

My emotions.

I was able to keep them under control today, and have decided to try a sad movie tonight, and see if I can get it out of my system. Rock and roll saved the day. Jet, Rush, and a couple others kept my attention off the sappy.

Rides. I got not 1, but 2 rides today. This could also be filed under the timing heading, but as I was walking to work this morning, and just gearing up for the trudge, I might add, a white Samurai (ironic much?) pulled into a parking lot in front of me and honked. I was going to walk by...they honked again, and then I noticed the liscense plate. It was the car of a lady that works in my building. It wasn't her tho. It was her daughter, N. Nice kid. It was soooo nice not having to walk to work. Then J, my lunch pal, gave me a ride home.

Ok, now onto...

The Bad:

Energy. I was so FUCKING tired today. A product of my night of late-started, broken sleep. I was getting all glassy eyed and noddy at about 8:30. Not good. It doesnt help that the job I'm working on, in addition to being mind-numbingly boring, is also so illogical as to make my brain hurt. I won't bore you with the details, but it's federal records relating to water, and water system improvements. Not that I really read any of it. I'm renaming maps. Worst part is, there's no end in sight.


My back. The sneaky bastard's getting to the point where it's either going to go out, or trick me and heal itself. I sure hope...well, you know what I hope. I'm being as careful as I can, but if it decides to cripple me, I'm at it's mercy.

My emotions. I still need to let loose, but haven't found the time. I'm crossing my fingers that I can get to it tonight, but it's already almost 10, and I'm sooooooo tired already that I don't know if I can.

And that leaves us with...

The Ugly:

My Pop watches a lot of Court t.v., and this is one of the trials going on:
Psycho.
This guy's not too bright either.

There was another link I was looking for, but, alas, it was not meant to be. Sack time. Be well.

Later,

T.

If I were so inclined, I could believe it's all a plot to drive me mad

...yaWN!!...

Yeah, problems getting out of bed again. Problems falling asleep too. Couple that with: the PS2 that has stopped playing regular cd's, the on the fritz stereo reciever (on my to do list, btw), and the piece of shit personal cd player that I think has well and truly given up the ghost, and you have my last night.

So, no, I didn't get my cry, which means that I'm going to have to be careful what I listen to at work. Once I've primed the pump, so to speak, I really need to let it out. I have, as yet, been unable.

Well, as I went downstairs to round up my first cuppa today, the coffee pot was growling in that under-the-breath sepulcheral tone which means that my caffeine is ready for consumption. Heh.

Timing really is everything. This would be a longer post, but I spent longer that I had planned reading/commenting on my morning visits. I'll get around to making links to them, for those of you that care... Oh, and I added some crap to my profile, again, for those of you that care.

About to begin the journey to work.

Later,

T.

Monday, August 30, 2004

Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast.

It also, apparently, hath the power to fuck with the thought process of logical, civilized minds.

I got to work, and decided to bury myself in music. I usually have something in the cd player, but it's usually low enough for me to hear the phone, just in case I get to be the one to answer it.

Today, I was set to take a break from the "Good Morning, and thank you for calling the Micrographics and Imaging program. This is T.J., how may I help you?" thing, so I put on my 'phones, wrapped the knob, and punched play. Prolly should have checked the tray first, but c'est la vie.

I had been listening to Relish when last I was at work, and the player was on shuffle. I don't know if any of you are Joan Osborne fans, but track 11 on that album is called Crazy Baby. That song has some pretty heavy lyrics.

Man, your hands are really shakin' somthin' awful
As you light your 27th cigarette.
Oh, how long have you been sitting in the darkness?
You forget.

Oh, you know you're gettin' really hard to be with.
And you're crying every time you turn around.
And you wonder why you cannot pick your head up
Off the ground.

Oh, my crazy baby
Try to hold on tight
Oh, my crazy baby
Don't put out the light, the light...the light.
The liight.

And they look at you like they don't speak your language
And you're living at the bottom of a well,
And you've swallowed all the awful bloody secrets
That you can't tell


There's more, but I promised myself I'd never put all the lyrics of a song on my blog. Heh. Too much of a space burner. Needless to say, these were not the happy, go-lucky lyrics I needed to start my day.

Even the funky, happy tunes on that album didn't help. So, I decided not to fight it, and I instead let myself sink into it. After Joan, I visited Pat Benetar (Greatest Hits), Garbage (Version 2.0), Heart (Dreamboat Annie), and Pink (Mizzundastood...prolly mispelled...oh, the irony).

That was all before lunch, and as I was listening to such sappy emotion-evoking lyrics as if you love me like music, I'll be your song and the like, it just got worse. It's like that sometimes. You ladies will understand. Not sure any guys read here, but some of them may too.

Sometimes, without even knowing it, a good cry can really reset your emotional barometer. As evidence, I brought all the girls home at lunch, and listened to rock for the rest of the day. If the likes of 'Blackout' (The Scorpions), and Welcome to the Jungle (Guns and Roses) couldn't wash away the blues, then they can't be washed.

It's almost midnight now, and I'm going to go have my cry.

Later,

T.

I fucking swear.

Another weekend has come and gone, and here I sit. It's still way too early, and I'm still walking to work. I'm really getting tired of it. At least I have a job.

That's one of the things I keep telling myself. Just like 'Walking is good excercise.' Yeah....you can all kiss my ass.

It was a struggle to get up today, I can tell you. I know it's my own fault. I stayed up late to watch a cartoon last night. Now, I know that sounds wierd, but if you haven't seen Aqua Teen Hunger Force, you don't know what you're missing. It's part of the Adult Swim on Cartoon Network, and is some of the funniest, just fucked up wrong shit I've ever seen. It comes on at midnight Sunday. They were showing it Sunday through Thurs, but they changed.

Note the days. They didn't show it on weekends, when I could be reasonably sure of sleeping in after watching it. Bastards.

Gonna have to cut this short. It's almost time to drag my ass to work. I plan on posting a couple things when I get home, including Chinese Dinner (an R story). Since I know it's just killing Kbear to not know what's up.

Take care all.

Later,

T.

Saturday, August 28, 2004

"Curiouser and curiouser," said Alice.

Turns out, what I needed was a long, hot shower. Who would've thought? It was sooooo good. I started with the water hot. I almost had to turn it down, but then I got used to it. I started the daily ritual which is my hair.

First thing, soak it good, wash it twice usually with Paul Mitchel Awapuhi shampoo, and after lathering it up forever, twist it to the top of my head while I brush my teeth and wash the rest of my body. Then, rinse. Really well. Then, conditioner number 1. Varies, but usually a cheap dime store knock off of something good. That gets slathered to my noggin while I shave. No. Just my face. You guys, I'm trying to write here.

Second rinsing, and this has to be extra good too....cheap products need more rinsing...grin... Then, a bit of towel drying, and it's time for the good stuff. Paul Mitchel's The Conditioner. From the first time I used it, what 17 years ago, it's been my drug of choice for my hair. Then, it's time to start brushing. All hair must be brushed straight down, and preferably allowed to dry completely in that condition. Yeah, right, like I ever have time for that any more. In order to assure that my hair does what I want to, I must now embark on what can only be described as a Holy Quest.

I am now subject to periodic brushing of my hair until it is totally dry. Now, remember, this is a perfect case example. Heh. Finally, after what seems like forever, I can bend over, brush it out, and flip it back. Came out pretty good today.

Sorry to rant about my hair, but it was going to come up eventually. Actually, you should be glad it came up now. We can get it over early. I am a Long-Haired-Hippie-Freak, or as I prefer a LHHF. Now, I know that conjures some frightning images for some of you. I've known some pretty rank hippies myself. Let me set your fears at rest. The only thing hippie about me is my hair. Oh, and I wear tie-dye. Sometimes. And I hate shoes. But that's it, I swear. I shower, I eat meat, hell, I hunt.

No tree-huggin' let's save the test animal whiner here.

"By testing this on a rabbit, you might be able to save my son's life?" Sorry rabbit, but human > rodent.


But I digress



I get out of the shower to find that R has arrived with T in tow. That there, that's wierd. R, is someone I know by initials, ala T.J., if you will. So, by abbrieviating her name for privacy's sake, I've in fact given you half of the name she goes by. Good security practice there. Coincidentially, T, mentioned above? Was introduced to me as, and continues to be called...drumroll please...

T. That's right, just 'T'. The 'inet privacy naming procedure' has here bestowed NO privacy at all. Heh.


So, the 3 of us hang out, watch a little t.v. R borrows some conditioner. She/they may be back later.

The things that happen to me.

I had a guy come to my door once, and ask me if I wanted to buy some cheese. But that's a story for another day.






Later,

T.

It's funny, really.

I mean, if I stop and think about it, it's downright funny. This self-imposed exile I'm in is what I'm talking about. For those of you that don't know, I've been avoiding the opposite sex like the plague for a little over 2 years now. Now, don't get me wrong, I still hang out, party with, and enjoy the company of women. Boy do I.

No, I refer simply to the act of sexual congress. It brings such compication, such restrictions, to a relationship. I have my 'gi'lfrien's', and that, I tell myself, is all I need.

Enter R. Now we get to the funny part. R is gorgeous. She's also a study in contrasts. She works construction. And I'm not talking 'girl construction' either, she can frame, for crying out loud. For as long as I've known her (like almost 2 (?) years now) she's had a boyfriend. I think maybe 2 or 3 different ones in the time we've been friends. Now, however, her latest and she have split.

We've always had this flirty, sexy, touchy relationship. We've slept together, and I mean slept. We were both fully clothed, and nothing, I repeat nothing happened. She got a new place, and it's right around the corner from my Mom's house. Pretty close to mine, as well.

So, now you know R. The funny part? I'm getting to that, ladies. Keep your shirts on. Oh wait, forget that, go ahead and take them off. I wanna see. Heh.

Ok, in a nutshell, here it is:

I've decided that, to quote an obscure Sammy Hagar tune 'I don't need love.' Hell, it's been almost (over? i forget) 2 years since I've had sex. That's ok with me though. I love sex when I getting it, but it's always been what I consider an 'extra' in a relationship. There's so much more. The walks, the talks. The wasted Sunday's wrapped around each other on the couch watching movies and eating way to much. Regular sex enhances all these things. I miss sex. I miss the other stuff as much, if not more. But, if you were to ask me, I'd truthfully be able to say I'm happy.

What I don't miss are the misunderstandings that lead to fights. I don't miss the 'Where were you' when I get home at....well, as you all know, I tend to keep rather erratic hours.... I don't miss the expense of keeping a woman in the manner to which she's become accustomed. Heh, that's reason enough right there. I can't afford to have a g/f.

But, I digress.

The funny thing is, R could, if she but knew it, single-handedly end the exile. She could, with a look, lay bare the fortress of my resolve. She's won the battle, and fired not a single shot. She, of course, does not know this, and prolly never will. We're friends, and that's enough for me. I'm curious, though. I have a feeling she'd be a tiger in the sack (sorry for the crudity of language there, but hey, i'm a guy). This could, and I shall of course keep you posted, if you'll forgive the pun, turn into the first 'sex friend' relationship I've ever had. I'm not sure I'm ready to give up yet though. As I've said, however, if she wants it, she's got me, no questions asked.

Well, it's Saturday morning, and I need to get a little eq in. I'll prolly post again.

Later,

T.

Thursday, August 26, 2004

Once more, unto the breach!!

So, how's this for new pain in the ass. I'm teh suk when it comes to code. Even HTML. I mean, I can do a few things, but I'm not 1337. Thus, as I'm sometimes prone to use my page formatting as a literary tool, I'm now drafting my posts in notepad, and saving them, so that I can paste my linebreaks into my post.

Pathetic, huh?

Thursday....Wow....This was a wierd Thursday. I'm going to call it a draw. But for me, that's a good Thursday.

Nearing midnight here, and I think I'm gonna crash.

If I can drag muh lazy ass outta bed, I'll post in the morning.

Later,

T.

This is getting scary...

Ok, this is the second good Thursday I've had in a row. It's uncanny, really. I'm not sure where or when it started, but when I noticed it, of course, it got worse.

I find that on those days...you know those days; when life catches up to you, and you have a realllly bad day. For whatever reason, whichever happenstance produces it. A fucked-up-shitty DAY!! For me, it's usually Thursday. Now, as I've said, I freely admit that my feeling this way about Thursdays causes me to notice bad things on Thursdays. But, also, as I've said, I just noticed it one day. I'd have a bad day. Think wow haven't had a day like this since...

I found a lot of Thursdays were not so nice to me. It was after this, that I read The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Those of you that have as well, will understand how appropriate it was that I had bad Thursdays.

I mean, what is Thursday, anyway?

Lets see You have:

Monday, the first day of the week. Bad Reputation. i.e. Rainy Days and Mondays, Manic Monday. No fun.

Tuesday, Ok, first day's over, easing back into the groove of working. If your radio station has a Two-fer Tuesday, put it on and crank it up.

Wednesday. Hump day. Woo Hoo!!...The week's half over.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

I can do a lot on those three days. I mean, I've road-tripped to two Rush concerts, one in San Jose, the other in Sacramento. Only impressive if you know that we started in Carson City, Nevada, drove to SJ, drove back to CC to pick up my driver's friends from Colorado that had flown out for the Sac show, drove back to Sac, and back to CC after the show.

Thursday.

What's that?

It's like, the elbow skin of the week.

Heh. That's another of my 'bits', and would of course be funnier, if you could see me 'do' it, but I digress.

The bad Thursday bit, that's real. That's just how I tell the story. Grin.

Later,

T.

Author's Note: I really did have a good Thursday, and I'm working on a post to that effect. t.

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

I'm thinking of calling this "If Only."

Sensing someone in the darkness, I bolt upright in bed.

"Who," I start.

"Shhhh," she purrs. Pressing her finger to my lips. As she climbs on top of me; straddles me, she pushes me back onto my pillow. She leans forward, bringing her mouth towards mine. Her finger prevents our lips from meeting, but they brush. A shiver thrills through me. She slildes her finger out and kisses me.

Her mouth, her expert mouth, melds with mine.

Hot, humid.

Our tounges war, each striving for dominance.

And suddenly, she's gone. I try to sit up, but she places her palm on my chest, telling me no.

And suddenly, her mouth, her expert mouth, is everywhere. She kisses my forehead. My eyes. The corners of my mouth. She kisses my neck, her mouth moves down to that place. It's the little hollow where my collarbone meets my neck. Her teeth grap flesh. A little nibble. Again, my body thrills, shivers; a bell rung soundly.

She kisses down my arm, the underside of my wrist. My palm. Slowly, she draws my finger into her mouth, her expert mouth. A prelude of things to come. She slides her hand down my arm, carressing my shoulder. She drags her nails across my flesh on the return trip. Laying my arm back down, she leans over me. She wriggles a bit, making room. Adjusting my placement without the benefit of her hands.

Her mouth touches my chest. She slides a hand down, and gives me a little squeeze. And smiles.

I can't see her, but I know she's smiling. I even know which smile it is. I've seen it a million times, and I've loved it every time. Her tounge, lips, teeth on my nipple. Again, she knows just how much. She knows me so well. -...Ahhhh...the other nipple....- She's really into this tonight. She starts kissing down towards my belly. Moving toward the end of the bed, and taking my shorts with her. She kisses right up to my bellybutton. The a sharp tickle, almost a jab. Another reason I like her nails long.

She kisses down closer. Moves outward, to the points of my hips. Around the front a little. More shivers.

Her mouth is absent for a moment, and I try to imagine where she'll go next. Much to my surprise, it's there. She kisses me, the base, the shaft, the tip.

And now, her hands, her expert hands. One cupping, one slowly stroking.

And always, and everywhere is her.

And now her mouth, her expert mouth. She brings me to the edge. Once, twice. The third time I grow near, she stops. Leaning back, otherwise motionless, she holds me there. Again, I know she's smiling. She decides I've had enough.

One sure....small...slow....stroke.... My hips twitch forward just a bit, as they always do. And I go. Her mouth comes down engulfing me; consuming me. And again, and again.

And at the end, I black out.

Seconds....Minutes?....Hours, I comeback to myself. I can sense her nowhere. Was that real; a dream? For the second (?) time, I bolt up in bed. My eyes, my useless eyes, are closed. My other senses quest for her....I can not hear her, I can not touch her, I can not taste....And then, on the air, a whisper of her perfume.

I smiled, lay back down in bed, and thought of her.

Always her.



I can't believe I'm posting this. Guess that's the point tho, isn't it. Sigh. Time for bed. Staring down the barrel of a Thursday.

Publish, or perish?

I was trapped in a windowless, pale green room all day. Since it was taking so long for the batches to process, the finally gave me something else to do. Unfortunately, it was destroying documents. Now, don't get me wrong, I have no problem running the shredder. In fact, I think I'm pretty good with it. But I have no tunes in that room, and the shredder makes noise.

Had I known, I would have made arrangements for some portable music.

Oh well, live and learn.

So, on my way to work this morning, I was thinking. I'm not sure what got me started...Prolly reading Kbear and Kat, but I started running this fantasy through my head. That was what kept me sane at work today. I've been redoing...refining....experimenting with vocabulary. That kind of thing.

Anyhow, I get home, grab a pen, and go to work. I remember looking up at one point, and realizing that the Simpsons is half over. I almost didn't know where I was. I mean, I was into this story. Then, as I continued, I didn't slip quite as deep, and I began to realize how personal it was.

All of a sudden, I felt naked.

And there, as they say, is the rub. I think I'm scared to publish it. Have to think on this a bit.

Later,

T.

5:00 a.m. sucks.

I've come to that conclusion. Lately, it doesn't seem to matter what time I go to bed, I'm fucking dead when it comes time to get up. This morning was a bit of an exception. I woke up about 5 mins before my alarm, and I could tell I was close.

Even the few minutes I had to convince myself to get up didn't help much. As soon as the alarm went off, I wanted to reset it. No measley snooze here. I give myself a whole hour, not one broken by little wake-ups. It's all or nothing for me. Grin. Well, where sleep goes anyhow.

I can get up as late as 6 and still get to work on time, but I'm always in a hurry. Right now, it's a quarter of, and I'm drinking coffee, and, obviously, blogging. It also gives my hair time to dry. Always an important consideration when you have long hair. I tend not to blow-dry it, unless I'm in a big hurry. It doesn't dry quite right when I do.

Well, the coffee is almost done, and so am I. I so don't want to go to work today. Or tomorrow. Or anymore, really. Won't someone adopt me, pay all my bills, and give me an allowance? I miss that. Sigh.

Later,

T.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

It's been an interesting day,

to say the least.


A friend I haven't seen in a while stopped by, and we got to hang out. It's 9:00 p.m., and I'm sitting here watching, I'm embarassed to say, Bring It On. Yes. You heard me, Bring It On. Yes, it's a cheesy High School cheerleading movie, but the athletics, yes, again, you heard me, are pretty impressive. Plus you have Kirsten Dunst, and Eliza Dushku in cheerleading outfits. Throw in some choice lines...

  • Darcy, you should stop eating. You see, when you skip a meal, your body feeds off its fat stores. And if you skip enough, maybe your body will eat your ass!
  • Maybe we should....join the squad... Fag. You have to see the scene.
  • Oh, and did I mention, Kirsten Dunst, and Eliza Dushku in cheerleading outfits?

I was on the phone with L when I started this post, and someone came to her door...She said, just a sec. Put the phone down, and left. I wasn't worried, gave me time to type. She picks up the phone "You there?"

"Yeah"

"Ohmygod. Let me call you back." A couplea K's, and I'm out, typing away.

Met someone that I'm going to have to get to know better. That was a surprise. Nother puter head. He's got some great skills, from what I can tell.

R, my friend that stopped by left me in posession of a rather large quartz crystal. Needless to say, it's taken the place of honor on my zen/feng shui/rock and mineral table.

Much to mull over.

Later,

T.

Three little words....My Dog Skip.

I'm going to be sooo late this morning, but oh well.

Author's note: this blog was previously recorded for broadcast at a later date.

Nobody that reads this will understadnd the title. Only one person would, and she'll never read this. Some of you may remember a comment recently about the wierd crap that happens to me. Well, since last we talked, it has become one of those days.

It's 5 after 7 as I write this, and I'm watching Monday Night Football (preseason, of course, but still foo'ball), and I'm drafting this longhand. The next bit is going to get a bit convoluted, but stick with it.

I had a bit of a day at work. There are now 2 posts about that, due to factors beyond my control. I'm not going to talk about work in this post, however. This the strangeness post. If you have read the Fucking arrrgh post, you know that I lost a post to the inet powers that be, thus the consternation of the title. So, as I went to post that one, I decided to save it as a draft first.

This turned out to be a good idea. (friend of mine stopped by at this point, so imagine time passing) I then hit publish, and blogger promptly choked on it. Heh. (this is when dinner was ready, so imagine me eating a thick, rare New York, with peas and o rings.)

So, I rebooted. It never ceases to amaze me. No matter how far we come, how advanced our technology gets, sometimes the only way to fix something is to turn the damn thing off and start over. So, the painful reboot finishes, I surf to my dash, ready to publish the draft I'd saved against this event. Imagine my surprize when I see the Post That Never Was on my master list. What the fuck?

I'd hit my 'back' button when blogger was madly refreshing the publish window, and seen a blank form. Now, here it is, along with Fucking arrrgh...I hit the edit button, and there, in all it's glory, was the missing post. Where there had been only one post, there now had to be 3. The original, the remake, and a 3rd chronicling the events. I really have too much free time. Deciding not to press my luck, I 'save as draft' the post that never was, so that I have time to work this post up. It was at this point that blogger graciously decided to post fucking arrrgh. Go figure.

That was it for me. I shut down, and started writing this. Anyhow, a little wierdness I thought I'd share. Ending now to watch Two and a Half Men. This may not get posted Til' Tuesday.

Later,

T.


Monday, August 23, 2004

Fucking....arrgh...second time in 2 days.....

I actually sit down to post, and...Ta-da.....Blogger chokes on it, and I have to redo....

As if the wonder of my extemperaneous posts can in any way compare to the overthought one that this is bound to become. Well, some things at work:

  1. The Battle Continues. Yes, undiminished are the tactics and vehemence exhibited by the combatants. There is now no haven to be found, as the conflict doth rage from one end of our sacred hall, to the other. I'm still working on a post with a pic of the rubber bands, but the fucking cam is still fucking with me.
  2. I lost my inet at work. The whole office did, in fact, but it still sucks. So, no more posting/commenting from work, unless or until that changes.

The post that never was had me ranting a bit about the overplaying of certain episodes of the Simpsons, that I just can't bring myself to think my way back through at this point. Anyhow, by for now.

Later,

T.


The Simp...sons.

So, it's 6:00 p.m. local, and I'm winding down. Was a typical Monday. The database from hell job was interrupted this morning for the scanning/printing job from hell. I swear, it never ends. As you can prbabaly guess, I'm watching t.v., and now, of course, they're showing one of the 7 or 8 episodes they've seriously overplayed in the past month or so.

It's a funny one. If you follow them, it's the 'Groundhog Day'esque episode where Marge cuts Homer's thumb off. I know they have more to show though, and it really pisses me off when they overuse them.

On a sad note, I lost my inet at work today, curse the powers that be. So, I guess no updates/comments from work, unless or until that changes. The battle continues. I'm working on a post, but still can't get the damn cam to fucking work.

I'm a bit distracted. I've been a bit drifty all day. Must be a buffet hangover. Well, there's the phone, and it's prolly L. She's met a new cute boy, and I'm her male sounding-board. She tells me what he's said/done, and I assure her that we, men that is, don't think enough about what we say/do for them to mean more than one thing. I'll prolly post more.

Later,

T.

Casinos should be illegal. (Part Two)

First, let me say I'm kinda pissed. I originally made this post last night, but blogger ate it. By that time I was nearly passing out, so I bagged it. It's now 5 minutes to 6 Monday morning, and I'm going to give it a shot. It won't be exactly the same post, of course, but here goes:

We, that is, my sister, my dad, my niece, my sis's S/O and I all went to the buffet at Casino Fandango, Carson City's newest casino. I'd never been in there before, as it's on the other side of town. I must say I was impressed. It's in a building that used to house a Supply One, so it's not cramped for space. The decorations were done in a 'tropic island nest' fashion, and it has very high celings, which I like in a casino. They feel too cramped otherwise.

Now, I'm pretty picky when I go out to eat. Having a dad that's 40 years a chef will do that to you. I'm here to tell you, though, the food was good. From the Mexican side (fajitas, chimichangas, enchiladas), to the Chinese (general chicken, sweet and sour chicken, chow mein) to the seafood (steamed clams, cracked crab, swordfish), and everything in between the food was fantastic.

My favorite thing at a buffet is always desert. There's just so much. This one was no exception. There were the usual small cakes, brownies, cookies and the like, but they also have a refrigerated case, from which you make requests. It was loaded up with all manner of cheese cake, canolis, and such. I ate so fucking much last night. Heh...I'm still not hungry.

Well, have to finish getting ready for work.

Later,

T.

Friday, August 20, 2004

Casinos should be illegal.

Oh, wait. For most of you, they are. Unless you live near an Indian...oh, excuse me...Native American reservation. Uh oh. Here we go. I just noticed something.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but the person who actually named 'the United States of America' named us after a friend: Amerigo Vespucci. This name, of course, would never, could never have or have had anything to do with the peoples that resided on this continent when Europe invaded and subjugated them.

So. Now we have the phrase 'Native "American"'. Well, if America is a country named after some pasty-white, noone remembers-him-anyhow white guy, why should we call the natives of this land Americans? Did they call this land America? Surely not! Why not ask them to research what the Ochaua Chan (sic) and their brethren called these lands?

Do you know that most of the names we have for the Nations of the Natives, we have from their neighbors? We asked the, to use a random name, Arapaho 'Indians' what they called the tribe to the west. They said, to use another, the Apache. Now, these are both names you've heard, I'm sure. And, no, I can't prove that these two names ever came up in a conversation as portrayed, but two names did, and that's my point.

How about this tho. The Arapaho, as we called them, told us that the name of the next tribe was the Apache. Now, whatever this tribe of 'Indians' called themselves, we can be sure it wasn't Apache. Why do we know this? Apache was an Arapaho word, and I'm sure had nothing at all to do with life in an 'Apache" camp.

Damn. I'm fucking fucked up. I don't know how many beers I've had, and I'm not sure I want to know. I met some interesting people, and played forever on the free money the house gives you. There's this poor girl. I could be wrong, but I think she may like me a bit. I'll be the first to admit that I have no clue as to what's going on in the female hormone bath that you (both of you) call 'your emotions', but she's made a point to use my name the last 3 times I've seen her, and she actually came up to me and Pops in the bar, out of her usual turf, to grief me.

If I weren't so adamantly against the whole thing, she might have a chance. If that is in fact what she's looking for. I can freely admit that I have no idea what runs through the female mind at any time.

O.K. I'm starting to realize that I'm a bit toshed, and that I'm making no sense whatsoever, so I'm going to end this embarassment. I hope you all had a good Friday (forgive the Catholic reference), and I wish ye all a good night.

Later,

T.

P.S. again, no edit, as I'm pretty fuckered up, and I can't be bothered to read the shite I've just posted. Time to make a greasy hamburger and some fries, and see if I can mough it before I yak. Sorry for the image. t.

Get out your invisible crayon, and color me transparent.

WOO HOO!!! It's 3 p.m. (finally, and I am outta here.)

Look for a (possibly drunken) update later. Maybe much later.

Later,

T.

It's killing me.

I mean, straight up fucking killing me. I move 3 folders. I build the database, and sit here for fucking ever while the pos (p2, 450) puter chews on it. I mean, I know I'm accomplishing something, but it's just so slooooooow. At this point, I've managed to move a whopping 11 folders into the database.

This is making my day drag by. It's now 1:09 local. One hour and 51 minutes, then the Friday Protocol begins. Beer, gambling, and fun. What more could anyone ask? Now, I know Murphy won't come a'readin' this yere blog, but I've started commenting on her blog, as she's feeling jealous of Kbear's following. Heh. I found my way to her through Bear.

An update: The war continues. Happily, I've never fired a rubber band in anger in this office, so I'm immune to the battle. It's fucking funny. Convicted felons running around like little boys, shooting rubber bands. And these are no wimpy rubber bands either. If I can get my pos digital cam working this weekend, I'll post a pic of them. They're welt makers, believe that.

Well, guess I'll go down the hall to the w.c. Nothing else to do. Happy trails.

Later,

T.

The bitter dregs.

It's almost worse than no coffee at all, but as that's all that was there when I went to the break room, I took it. I made more, of course, but it's not the instant sensory gratification I was looking for.

I'm at work, and prolly shouldn't be doing this, but as the database builds I've been doing are taking soooooo long, I decided to be bad at work. My big boss is out of the office for a vacation, so I'm in less danger of getting caught. If B, my supervisor and one rung under R sees me, he just asks what I'm reading. Heh...B's pretty cool.

It's 10:22. I've iniated my Friday Protocol. For those of you that don't know, this involves me working through my 2 15's (I hardly ever take them anyhow, as I don't have a nicotine addiction to feed) and taking a 30 minute lunch instead of an hour. By doing this, I get to leave work an hour early. It's not much, but there's something nice about being off early on Friday. Well, if you happen to have weekends off, as I do. But whatever day your Friday falls on, it's nice to be off early.

Right now, B's engaged in an epic rubber band war with some of the CT's. Did I mention that I work with CT's i.e. Community Trustys? For the layman, these are convicted criminals who are in minimum security prison, and all, of course, on non-violent convictions. They rotate, as people are parolled, or sent to restitution, but they are usually a pretty cool bunch of guys. B gives them such a ration of shit, every day. It's funny.

Well, 2 hours until lunch. I may post again then, we'll see.

Later,

T.

Thursday, August 19, 2004

A comparative rarity.

What an odd thing to have happen on a Thursday. Work flew by. Except for the last hour, of course. Got a ride home. Had beer in the fridge. Played EverQuest with my main, and didn't die.

I think I know why tho. My Karma got reset last night. The car I've been talking about, my chance to ride to work? It arrived yesterday afternoon. All I have to do is get the cash to register and insure it. No mean feat by itself, but I'm that close. That's the good news.

My friend R and his wife/fiancee O stopped by...well...stopped in my storage unit. Now, granted there's insurance involved, and the damage isn't horrible, but still.

Never Been Kissed is on U.S.A as I write this. It's such a sappy love story. And the whole high school thing. I should change it, but, sadly, there's nothing else on. I mean really, what the fuck? We pay what, 40 bucks a month for like 70 channels, and there's never anything on worth watching.

I'm pretty tired, so I think I'll get some good sleep tonight. I could really use it. Tomorrow's Friday, which means payday, and a stop at the Plaza on the way home. If you cash your check there, they give you $5.00 worth of free slot play, and a free drink toke. Like you need that. I usually sit at the machine for at least half an hour, in which time I usually get 2, or if C's working 3 or 4 beers. Now, the casino gives the beer away, but I always tip my waitress a dollar per beer.

My Pop should be meeting me there. His check got here too. We haven't gambled together for a while.

Guess I'll go check with Kbear and Kat my two loyal readers. Peace out.

Later,

T.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Woo Hoo!! It's hump day.

Not that I'm even remotely in danger of getting humped, mind you. That's something I haven't touched on. My self-imposed exile from the fairer sex. Actually, I have some problems with the expression 'farier sex.'

The ladies aren't any more fair than the men. I suppose you could say the more attractive sex, but that varies too. If you're a woman, the more attractive sex is usually men. I know....I'll say 'opposite sex.'

It's just one of those things. I'm so fed up with the whole mess. I balance the freedom I have against the work that goes into maintaining a relationship, and just shake my head. Don't fool yourself either. All relationships are work sometimes.

Sorry...Feeling a bit jaded and cynical today.

Later,

T.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Crap, here we go again.

I don't know if I mentionied this earlier, but I couldn't sleep for shit last night. When I nioticed what time it was, it was 1:00 am. I freaked, shut down, and tried to sleep. Laid there for at least an hour, trying to slip under. It was a no go, of course. I just noticed that it's almost midnight local, and, again, I'm really not all that tired.

Is that a bad thing? I wonder. I mean, it kinda came back at the reunion. I was sitting at the drinking table at 4:30 in the morning, still playing the game. Hell, I can't remember the last time I came home from a night out at sunrise. I mean, it's only been a few years, but how many? I have no idea.

I don't know. It's like this. I really don't feel mentally any differently than I did when I was 18. The worst part is, if I didn't have to worry about working every day, the physical parts, I think I could overcome. It's a little scary. I'm facing 40. Not this year, mind. 2006, though? Yeah. That's 40 for me.

So, as I sit here and watch the Olympics (women's team gynastics) I find myself wide awake. I hate this. It's such a delicate balance for me. If I go to bed at a reasonable hour...i.e. 9:00 p.m. or so, I wake up at like 3:30 or 4 a.m., and toss and turn, trying to recapture the Fields of Elysium. If, however, I try to outsmart my Circadian rythmys, and stay up, what am I treated with?

My alarm shrills at me, screaming that I'm worthless. Well, it doesn't actually, it just feels like that 'cause 'is'early. It's all I can do to drag my carcass out of bed. The shower? That relic, it's miles from here. Staggering about, I have 2 choices. Reset the alarm, and grab another hour's sleep, but risk up to a 20 min late arrivial at work, or gut it out, and take a shower.

The early a.m. posts? The days I actually drag my ass out of the rack in time to make my day. But guess what? That last beer I drank made me sleepy. About time too....I should get some good R.E.M.


Later,

T.

P.S. Not gonna edit, tho it kills me.....Wired, tired, and grinning like a fool.

Bad news for me, good news for you.

I'm stranded at work once again, and thus my loyal readers (both of you) get another post. Wow...That's 3 in 3 days.

I've decided to go ahead and post the first part of the story. It's untitled as yet, and is very much a work in progress, but here goes.


Untitled


They tell me it will help to write it down. It's some form of therapy, They say. Do I believe what They say? No. Do I do what They say? Absolutely. What They say goes.

So. Here goes.

The first time I saw her, I knew I was in trouble. I was sitting at the local it's-Friday-night-and-I-wanna-get-drunk-and-fight-someone-country-music-shit-kicker-bar, and wasn't happy about it. For one thing, it's not my bar. Not my scene, you dig? Couple that with the fact that the only reason I was there in the first place was the insistence of one of my golf partners. He'd mentioned stopping by the bar, I don't know, like 8 times between the end of the round, and actually getting to the bar. Irritating? Made my teeth itch.


So, there I sat, back to the door, drinking a draft, and getting my mope on. The door opened, and my eyes flashed to the mirror behind the bar. Backlight threw the person entering into silhouette. Then it happened. She walked up to, and then behind the bar. My breath caught in my throat. She was stunning. She was wearing a white tanktop, and displaying some impressive ink work. She had her hair up, and she was the most attractive woman I'd seen in years. Turns out she worked there. Instantly, my bad mood began to change.


She did her count, and started her shift. Now, I'm no great shakes in the looks department, or so I tell myself, but I can make a good impression when I want to. I'm funny, you see. I know a million...well, at least a few hundred jokes. And I know some pretty obscure ones too. Anytime you can get a bartender laughing with jokes she's never heard, you're doing well. Our after golf beer turned into a few, and Rikki and I were chatting like old friends when Mr. Irriataiting decides we need to leave. Reluctantly, I agreed. We gathered our friend, and our wits, and left the bar, but not before I'd secured an invite from Sabrina.


"I work graveyard on Friday. You should come by and see me." I assured her I'd be there.


That was on a Tuesday. The week seemed to crawl. Already, she was on my mind almost constantly. Friday finally arrived, and I was ready. I left work early, cashed my check, and went home to take a nap. I got up around 10:00 p.m., showered, shaved, the works. I called a cab, and went to the bar. As I entered, I was sure the wrong person was working. Then I realized that she just had her hair down. My word, but it was lovely. Brownish, blondish, and blonde highlights. It reached nearly to her waist. Again, I was a bit stunned. Long hair so does it for me. I took a seat at the bar, and ordered.


"I'm glad you made it," she said.

"Me too. I wasn't sure that was you," I replied. "You had your hair up on Tuesday, I had no idea it was so long."

"Do you like it?"

"I love long hair."

Someone called her at that point, and off she went. It was like that for most of the night. We'd just get to talking, or exchanging jokes, and someone else would need her. Irrationally, I found myself getting jealous. We did, of course, get to the topic of relationships, and I found out that she was seeing someone. While not surprising, a woman as attractive as her is never alone for long, I still felt a twinge of disappointment. It was sometime later, when I realized the sun was coming up. I'd stayed all night. I hadn't done that for years, but strangely, I wasn't tired at all. Her presence energized me. I felt alive. Then her boyfriend arrived, to wait out the end of her shift with her. She introduced us. I was so jealous of him, I could barely see. Soon after, her relief arrived, and it was time to go. The last thing she said to me was "You should come back next week. This was fun." I resolved then and there to be back.....


To be continued...

Ok...My boss showed up with seeds, so I get to eat.....grin...Great lunch, huh? Anyhow, I think that's it for now. I may post again when I get home...depends on how hot it is upstairs.

Later,


T.

Monday, August 16, 2004

Ok...That's it...I've had it.

No more movie quotes, unless the quote comes up during the day. I was wracking my brain for a good one yesterday, and then blogger freaked out and didn't even title it. What a ripoff.

So, it's Monday night, and my show's not on....North Shore that is....It will be back in Sept with new episodes. I'm pretty sure 2 and a Half Men will be on later tho, so the day's not a total loss.

Another work week has begun. Sigh. Work. I need a vacation. I don't know if I can make it until November. I'm kinda bummed anyhow. My Pop has informed me that he's not going this year, and that next year, the 50th anniversary of Dland, will be the last year he goes.

I'll miss him on the trips. I think the kids will too. We'll have to see...I hope I can convince him to keep coming.

Not much real going on these days. It's crunch time for Dland money, so I'm sooo broke all the time. I've been playing a lot of EverQuest lately. Heh. I suppose some people would say I'm playing too much, but Hey, it's cheap, it's legal, and I can get it anytime I want it. It's fun, too. An added bonus.

I think I'm going to try something a little different in a few days here. I fancy myself a writer, and not just this blog (grin). I think I'm going to serialize a short story that's been bugging me for a while now. Look for it in the future.

Well, it's dinner time. Perhaps more

Later,

T.

Sunday, August 15, 2004

Laundry. It's such a pain. Sort...Wash...Dry...Fold...

I need a maid.

We just had a monster thunderstorm roll though town. It was close. Thunder right on the heels of the lightining. Sounded like an explosion. I love the storms. Only problem is I have to log off when they hit. We get major power surges.

Another weekend over already. They go so fast. Hot again today. I'll be happy when summer's over, even though I'll be bitching about the cold. Not much to say today. It's like that sometimes. I may be back.


Later,

T.

Friday, August 13, 2004

Screws fall out all the time. The world's an imperfect place.

Blogging from work again. You know what that means. No lunch for me. Well, no food anyhow, I do still get my break tho.

On the way in, I pass 3 digital thermometers. It was 63 degrees at 7:00 in the fucking morning. That's just disgusting. We've even got some humidity this week. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that we'll have a T-storm today. That's ok though, as I love storms. Someday, I'll tell you about the trip I took storm chasing. It was pretty fun.

Man, was my Thursday a pain in the butt. I was sitting at home, minding my own business, when my friend R showed up with Kill Bill Volume 2. I don't know if you've seen these movies, but if you haven't stop reading this now, and don't come back till you've seen them. Not that I'm going to talk about them in spoiler fashion, it's just that seeing them is much more important that listening to me bitch.

To continue: We head downstairs to watch the movie. Now, my DVD player happes to be my Playstation 2. More economical that way. I'll prolly get a straight player, but it will have to wait until after Dland. So I put the movie in the box, and hit reset. The screen shows up with 'No Data.' Needless to say, this is not a good thing. It's roughly at this point that I realize that my memory card is not it it's accustomed place. This leads me to the discovery that my sis came by to get my niece's memory cards and inadvertenly grabbed mine. Well, the root of the problem is that the software that allows the ps2 to play dvd's is on the card.

After a short phone call to my sis's s/o, I go to install the software on the card (thiers) that my sis didn't take. Only one problem. Even though I know I've seen the disc in the last week or so, I was unable to find it. Fine. We'll go upstairs and watch on my 'puter. 20 in monitor, so shouldn't be too bad, right? Wrong. Puter tells me that I don't have a compatible dvd encoder installed. Ok. So, off to Microsoft Update. I dl Media Player 9. Install it. (dsl made this all eaiser.) I get the same message.

I call my sis's again to let D know that I'm going to have to come over to get my mem card so that I can watch the movie. We jump into R's car, and off we go. When I arrive at my sister's, D informs me that they can't find my mem card. Fortunately, he had his. He loaned it to me, and we went back to the pad. Movie worked fine.

Took like almost an hour from R's arrival to the start of the movie. Arrrrrghh!!!!!!! Have I mentioned how much I hate Thursdays? That's a post all to itself. Guess that's all for now.

Later,

T.

Thursday, August 12, 2004

I was pondering the immortal words of Socrates who said...'I drank what!?!'

...mmmm...coffee....

Is there anything better? I think not. The post this morning is going to be a little different. I have delusions of a comic turn of mind, and the following, while true, is also one of my 'bits.'

I don't know about the rest of you, but I multi-task in the shower. I shave. I brush my teeth. I read. Now granted, there's very little to read in the shower, so I'm reduced to reading shampoo bottles and the like. The most disturbing thing I've ever read in the shower is the back of my toothpaste tube. There's a warning there. I'll tell you the warning first, then the problems I have with it.

It says, and I quote 'If you accidently swallow more than is used for brushing, seek professional assistance, or call a poison control center immeidiately." Now, what's wrong with this statement? First, I don't know about you, but I prolly use a different amount of toothpaste every day, and no matter how much you use, as soon as you start brushing, you have more than you started with. How much is used for brushing? My tube supplies the helpful 'a small amount.' Oh, thanks. Could you be a little more vague please? Second, how do you 'accidently' have too much toothpaste in your mouth? What, in the middle of a lets see who can hold the most toothpaste in their mouth contest, and someone slaps you on the back?

Thirdly, it says 'professional assistance', not medical attention. That's a job to be proud of. What do you do? Me, I'm a qualified toothpaste extraction worker. I looked in the phonebook, under toothpaste, emergency extraction of, but being from a small city, I guess we don't have any toothpaste techs here. Your other option is a poison control center. So you're telling me that I'm putting poison in my mouth every day? Great.

Heh..there you have it. It's funnier when I'm 'doing' it, as I gesticulate and such. Have a good one all

Later,

T.

Monday, August 09, 2004

Hey Bra....Howwwzit?

...deep breath....

Try and relax.

I've been so stressed lately. It feels that there's just not enough time anymore. It never fails. Whatever I have to do, wherever I have to go, I'm running late. This is pretty unusual for me, I'll have you know. Usually, you could set your clock by me.

That was really wierd.

Frank just said 'You could set your clock by me.' on Everybody Loves Raymond. Like 2 mins after I wrote it. Bizaare. Things like that happen to me all the time tho. I could regale you with tales, but I won't.

I'm jumping around a lot tonight, I've noticed. Sorry for that....still running a mile a minute from the weekend.

Do any of you watch North Shore? It's a new nighttime soap on Fox. Set in the Islands. Not bad. Also tonight, and every Monday night at 9:30, network willing, is Two and a Half Men. New Charlie Sheen show...Laugh your ass OFF funny. Highly recommended.

Kinda sidetracked atm. Time has passed and the aforementioned North Shore is on. I missed last week, so I'm way behind. Well, think that's it for now. Maybe more after my shows.

Later,

T.

Friday, August 06, 2004

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.

Ok, so I fell asleep. What's your point? Grin. So I guess you get my Life, the Universe, and Everything post as I sit here with soaking wet hair, drinking my first cup of coffee of the day.

I've been thinking a lot over the past week or so. Ever since I realized that the reunion was last weekend, I've been having those 'what have I done with my life' thoughts. I'm not unhappy with my station in life. I'm not a CEO, but I don't have a CEO's stress level either.

Then there was the reunion itself. Seeing everyone, and how like the old days it was. Outwardly, we had all changed. Inside, not as much. Everything from graduation up until now. 20 years of perpetual motion. I have to say, I like the life I've lived, the people I've known. There are regrets, of course, both kinds. I regret some of the things I never did, and will prolly never do. By the same token, there are some things I did that in retrospect seem a little uneeded.

Then, there's the car wreck that as near as I can determine, happened about 10-20 mins in front of me on the road. Of course, the mortal thoughts start. Ron's letter reached me the next morning. Both of them, the anonymous driver of the white car, and Ron's adversity tell us the same thing. Life is ephemeral. I know it sounds corny, but you do have to stop and smell the roses. Now, in these two cases, it's clear that Ron is the better off of the two. He lived through his ordeal. What's more, he found the strength, the courage to go on.

I knew him in High School. I must admit, I don't remember how well. Now, I wish I had known him better. I'd like to be able to say "well, of course he's ok. That's just like Ron." I don't know if I could do it. Life is ahead of us, surely, and you can't live in the past, but to not know your past? I don't know if I could do it. If you should read this Ron, my hat's off to you.

Ok. Enough deep thoughts. I've got to finish getting ready for work. Hope you all have a peachy day.

Later,

T.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

It's 106 miles to Chicago. We've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it!

Ok, so I'm going to post today, but not yet. We had a city-wide power surge today, and I came home to my pc on. Rather than just shut it down, I poked around a bit. However, there are a couple things I have to do, so I'll be back.

Later,

T.


Ok, I'm back.

This is a rather historic occasion. The post that follows is the first I've ever written out longhand first. I've decided to post my movie list, you see. If this starts looking like it's going to be really long, I'll break it up. They are, in reverse order:
  1. Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. I love this movie. Remember when you could only watch it once a year?
  2. Apocalypse Now. Only seen it once. Should prolly see it again. Creepy flick.
  3. The Matrix. Need I say more? If you haven't, see it.
  4. Now, this one I wasn't sure about, but I'm guessing someone says it in Clueless. Cute flick.
  5. Lethal Weapon. Pesci saved the later sequels. Chris Rock was good too.
  6. Demolition Man. One of Sandy Bullock's first. She's still my fave. Rob Schenider is a riot in this film.
  7. Star Wars. Again, need I say more? Go here The Revenge of the Sith.
  8. Men In Black. Second one sucked IMHO.
  9. Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Some of the humor's pretty British, but I love this flick.
  10. Highlander. First one's pretty good.
  11. The BBC t.v. adaptation of The Hithitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Not a movie, per. se. Read the books first tho.
  12. The Princess Bride. So many good lines. The swordfight is insane.
  13. Trading Places. Classic Eddie Murphy/Dan Akroyd. Guy bonus, Jamie Lee doffs her top.
  14. Dogma. Kevin Smith's 'controversial' movie about God. Can be seen as a standalone, but his movies are best enjoyed in order.
  15. Spiderman 2. Great flick. Better than the first, as there's less backstory.
  16. National Lampoon's Vacation. Again, there's almost too many lines. See it.
  17. Not sure it's actually a quote, but I know that there was a Marx Bro's film named A Day at the Races.
  18. National Lampoon's Animal House.
  19. Now I come to a bit of a sticking point. How ironic that my first 'quote' might not even be one, thus throwing the whole 'quote' theory into suspect.

I have a solution though. I'm sure one of those lame 50's sci/fi flicks used it. So, that's the list so far, except for this post, of course. It's from The Blues Brothers.

Later, under a new post, my thoughts on Life, the Universe, and Everything. I'll be back.

Later,

T.


Edit: Damn Star Wars link won't work. Try typing it in if you're a fan.


Tuesday, August 03, 2004

Please read this.

My usual ride home for lunch was sans vehicle today, so I had to make do. I ran down to Jack in the Box, and grabbed a bag of grease. Jumbo Jack with cheese. Not bad, but the good stuff, what I really went for, were the spring rolls ( what everyone calls 'egg rolls'). They are the shit, I kid you not. If you've never had them, I highy suggest you do.

But, I don't want to trivialize this post by talking about my lunch. This is going to get a bit weighty, so bear with me:

Almost every day, I get a 'strength in adversity', or 'shining example of hope' chain letter. I read with my cynic's eye, looking for phrases that scream internet urban legend. They're usually variations on a theme, and are almost immediately deleted, half unread. I never forward them. Today, however I recieved a different kind of email. It's a 'strenght of faith' email, to be sure, but with one small twist. I know the person that sent it. We went to High School together. I read this letter this morning, and it affected me deeply. The text of the letter will follow.

After this post, I will be sending copies of this letter to my family and friends. If it affects you as deeply as it did me, I would encourage you to as well. Or at least send them a link to this post.

An open letter to the class of 1984

I have to write this letter to each of you. It is a letter to explain that life is precious and
I have had an interesting life. Like most it has had its ups and downs. When we graduated we all had hopes and dreams. We went our different ways, and now we have had a resurgence of many of our childhood feelings during this time of our reunion. We were given the opportunity to get together and swap snap shots of who we are now and what we have accomplished.

I had my dreams and I chose a demanding life dedicated to helping others. I have had the opportunity to see the very best and the absolute worst that people can do to each other. In the spring of 1994 my life changed in a split second from a drunk driver. He stole my childhood, memories, and much of my future. You see I was doing what I love by caring for a 5-year-old child in an ambulance when we were hit causing the ambulance to roll. I was thrown knocked unconscious, broke bones in my neck and back and was saved from being in a wheel chair by a bulletproof vest. Our bodies are amazing in so many ways. When I awoke it was instinctual to do what I knew and that was to help the 11 people that were involved in this incident. My partner and I helped the others until help arrived. It was at the hospital where there was a large black hole called my memories. The head injury I sustained took my childhood and left me with short-term memory problems. I spend many hours agonizing about the people that I grew up with. All that is there is occasional snap shot of people, things, and an occasional emotion. If I were to meet you on a street somewhere I would be meeting most of you for the first time. From time to time I look at our school year book and wonder.

Since that time, I have continued to work doing what I love. I have a loving wife who accepts that I don’t always introduce her to people that I know because I cannot remember their name. I have created my coping strategies to get by this handicap. As I always say, learn something new every day. It does not matter what it is, just learn.

I have a new baby girl, and she embodies my childhood. To look at the world through the eyes of a child is a very special gift. She looks to me for safety, and we get to learn from each other to explore what the world has in store for her future.

The last 10 years has been an adventure. It has been filled with anxiety of my past. But it has given me many mountains to conquer and new horizons to see.

That is my story. I would like to hear from you if you get the opportunity. I would like to meet you all again, many for the first time.

Be safe.

Sincerely

Ron Harmon.

That's the letter. Pretty heady stuff. I may not post for a day or two. I think this deserves the front page by it's self, at least for a couple days. Be safe, my friends.

Later,

T.

Monday, August 02, 2004

So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.

What an afternoon. My sister needed me to go to Reno this afternoon with her s/o to get her car from the shop. 4:00 rolls around, and I'm out the door. D is waiting, and we're off. At about the halfway mark to Reno (30 miles one way), there's a slow down. Turns out to be a major accident, and they close the highway so they can get CareFlight in. So we sit. And we sit. In the hot summer sun, we sit.

Ages later, we're approaching the accident, and as the morbid human I am, I begin looking for the cars...the skidmarks...glass..whatever. I see a green mini-van ( is that still hyphenated?). I see a dark sedan, and neither of them seems to be very damaged. Then I see the white car. I can only hope that there may have been a survivor somewhere in the car. I wouldn't hold out much hope for the driver. The steering wheel was almost touching the celing of the car, and the front end was demolished beyond recognition. I hope they're ok.

So...we get past the accident, and get to the dealer. Pick up the car, and head back. It takes us nearly 2 hours to move about 6 miles. Needless to say, it was a long ride. The radio was sucking, so I started poking through her cd's. Now, I love my sister and all, and I know she's a mom and everything, but 4 of the 6 cd's in the changer are Disney. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Disney, and there are plenty of songs I like...But 4 cd's? Fortunately, 5 was Changesbowie, Dave's greatest hits, and 6 was No Doubt.

I have to say, that I'm pretty impressed with the stock sound system in the car. It's a new Beetle, like 2002, maybe 2001. I don't really know if I ever knew the year. Anyhow, after some slight adjustment (I'm a pretty good sound engineer) I had the knob wrapped, and the music was clean. The bass was vibrating the rear-view mirrow, and I could feel the whole driver's door vibrating. It was pretty boss.

That's about all my excitement today. Think I'm going to start the list post. I'll post it in a bit.

Later,

T.

Late update. Driver of the white car didn't make it.

I love the smell of napalm in the morning. It smells like....Victory

Wow...I must have been really punchy yesterday. I posted without even titling. Heh, my bad. I'll go edit, and add one to my growing list of movie quotes.

Monday morning, and still no coffee. The weekend was so full, I forgot to buy any. I'm such a space cadet sometimes. Now I have to wait until I get to work, and I could really use a cuppa right about now.

The lost sleep effects are mostly gone, so that's something. This is just a quickie before work. Wish it was the other kind of quickie, but what can you do?

Later,

T.

Sunday, August 01, 2004

How about I give you the finger, and you give me my phone call?

So, here it is, approaching 6 p.m. local time. I'm sooo tired it's not even funny, so this may be a very short entry. The dinner was pretty cool. There were some people there that I hadn't seen yet, and I even won some buffet tickets. Our golf team took 3rd place, and I was the only person from the team to show, so I got all the winnings. Grin. Only 40 bucks, but it's mine...all mine...

I got to talk to H. God she looked good last night. She's married, living in Chicago. The party was at a local golf course clubhouse. Food was alright, and the event was scheduled to end at 11:00. Somewhere around 10:30, a high school drinking buddy of mine came up to me with the news. There was a party at his house, and they had a keg. Needless to say, it was like the intervening 20 years had never happened. Everyone was walking around, trying to share the news. There's a party at... P's house?... Yeah...I know...you going...yeah...ok..see you there.

11:00 rolls around, and they kick us out. Got a lift to the party with a friend. They weren't going, as they were slated to go waterskiing today, and didn't want to be useless. When I got to the party, the Mexicali game was well underway, and I can't tell you how it took me back. Seeing all those people, learning all about thier lives. It was good. H showed up to the party, which was nice. We got to talk more. J, another girl that I was a bit gone on in school was there too. She's great. We talked and talked last night. We managed to kill the keg, and then couldn't find anyplace to buy another at...whatever time it was. I don't wear a watch, and time's been a bit wonky this weekend anyhow. They did make a beer run tho, and came back with tons of beer. The party continued. Slowly, people began to leave. I'm not sure what time it was, but soon there were only a handful of us left. At the end, there were 4. J, one of my better friends from school, J ( the girl I'd crushed on), H, and myself.

As always, I was at the table to the last. Seems like it's always like that when there's a party going on. At that point, we sort of mutually decided to end the party. J, the male friend was crashing at the party house. J and H were staying at a hotel which happened to be close to my house, so we got a cab and headed out. I got home at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. I staggered upstairs, stripped off, and passed out.

I swear, I got no sleep all weekend. It short terms, it was this Friday night out, home at 3:30 Sat morning. Golf at 8:30 Sat morning. Golf ended at about...well, I got home at about 3:30 in the afternoon. The dinner was scheduled for 6:30. I took a nap...bout an hour, and was at the dinner at 6:30. And, as I've said, that turned into an all nighter. The sun was just starting to rise as I stumbled home from the motel. I managed to sleep to 11:00 this morning tho, which is pretty unheard of for me. I can't sleep late.

I have to say, the reunion was good. I'd suggest that when your's comes up you should go. However, as I said above, I am dead tired, so I'm going to cut this off now.

I had a request to list out the movie titles, and I'll do it. Perhaps tomorrow, or if I get lively, later tonight.

Later,

T.