Baby, it's you....

I told myself I was going to title this blog with the next song. Sammy Hagar from the album Standing Hampton.

Odd too, as it's the first time I've heard the song since I uploaded it. As I read the title on itunes (that's right...didn't recognize it) I tried to think of a 'Baby it's you' moment in my recent life to apply it to, and of course, I came up dry.

I think what I miss most about my self-imposed exile is the companionship. I mean, don't get me wrong. The sex...god do I miss the sex...but the cuddled up before sex eating a bowlful of something and watching a movie or some shit.....

Ok...gonna bitch about work for a bit now.

We're still short-handed, so your's truly gets to work another 6 day week. Ah....I can smell the overtime. It just wears me out, though.

Now it's Hard to Be by the Vaughn Brothers off the album Family Style.

I'm going to give that write a whole novel in a month thing a go this year. It fell during Dland last year, and the lost week proved more than I could bear.

I haven't decided what type of novel I should write though. There are a couple that I have poking around in my head. I've got a 'science is the downfall of mankind' theme that's kinda unique, and I've written it as a short story, so I have a good start.

On the other hand, I do have a sort of techie story about what could best be described as 'the ultimate hack.' Nice twist in this one.

And then there's Paper Cuts. This is the kernal of a story idea that's been rolling around in my head for years now. I got the idea while working construction in Florida.

Picture it, if you will:

The day was hot, humid. A blazing summer sun beat down on the on the polished steel roof sheets. 5 men stood there, installing the roof. I was doing a job known lovingly as 'goopin' sheets.'

While not as bad as it sounds, this is no pleasant task, let me assure you. Have any of you ever worked with stick-um? Not the stuff that pro athletes used, but the stuff on that thick waxed paper roll? I tried to find a photo, but I suck, so you lose. I'll try to find a roll at a store and shoot a photo myself.

But I digress. A 'sheet was a piece of sheet metal about 5 and 1/2 feet long, and I had to run a line of stick-um down the edge of the sheet so that when they were fastened together, it would form a no-leak seal.

Problem was, I didn't have any gloves. I know it's hard to imagine the pain of a roll of thick wax paper going, say 5...10?... miles an hour, and melting a paper cut into your cuticle, but that day, I didn't have to imagine it at all.

I had one on every finger. 2 or 3 on some. That, and a long day of sweating into them, made for a fairly unplesant day. But, I did get the story idea out of it, and while telling this story to you, I've decided to write Paper Cuts as my novel this year.

Thanks for listening.

Huevos sin blancos

T.