To any of you that have one, this will not come as a surprise. Nor is it a surprise to me, I just felt like bitching about it, and this is where I do that.
I know I promised you pix, and if my kacdafrackin' cd drive were not being a piece of shit, I'd have posted them already.
I soooooo need a new puter. Anybody have any hand-me-downs?
Or, I suppose I could start a trust fund:
Help T.J. upgrade his lousy Pentium 3 500 Mhz computer.
I'm ghetto and a half.
Ok, that's all you get right now. Gonna try something different later with the pix....
Buenos con queso,
T.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
It was almost more than I could (pall)bear...
So, I've done it.
I've attended my 3 funeral in 5 months.
Let's see, I've buried:
1. My 16-year-old cousin Justin.
2. My 22-year-0ld friend Olivia.
3. My 76-year-old uncle Pat.
It hasn't been an easy run, as I'm sure you can understand, but there have been some good things too. At Justin's funeral, for instance, I saw lots of family I'd not seen in forever and we actually made plans to (and followed up, no less) get together for reasons other than someone's death (see recent Gma's bday post).
At Olivia's passing, I was very melancholy. She was taken from her loved one way too early as well. I think about Skylar, and wonder what his life will be like. I can't imagine it. My boss did a very noble thing when Olivia died. He set up a trust for Skylar. I won't go into the gory details, but he should be set.
Uncle Pat's funeral saw another gathering of family long-missed. Again, it was a sad occaision, but even so we managed to have some good times as well. Pop's and my trip was surprisingly easy. We encountered almost no traffic, and spent far less that we had expected. Of course, we all again fell to the 'we only see each other when someone dies' lament, and exchanged phone numbers.
We'll see what happens. This is the notoriously procrastinitory branch of the family. I have hopes, but we shall see.
I have a couple funny things to go into, and will do so soon. I have a few pix to download first, but look for something tomorrow (if i get motivated).
Oh, and btw as I was sitting in the service room talking to my sister and some other members of my family I felt a discrete tap on my shoulder. It was my aunt Marilyn (the widow) asking me if I would be a pallbearer. Not knowing what else to say, I accepted.
Now that I think about it, tho I think I see a pattern. Of the 6 of us asked, 5 were his nephews. The 6th was his youngest daughter's boyfriend.
Ok, think I'm going to wind this up for now, but I'll be around shortly.
Peace,
T.
I've attended my 3 funeral in 5 months.
Let's see, I've buried:
1. My 16-year-old cousin Justin.
2. My 22-year-0ld friend Olivia.
3. My 76-year-old uncle Pat.
It hasn't been an easy run, as I'm sure you can understand, but there have been some good things too. At Justin's funeral, for instance, I saw lots of family I'd not seen in forever and we actually made plans to (and followed up, no less) get together for reasons other than someone's death (see recent Gma's bday post).
At Olivia's passing, I was very melancholy. She was taken from her loved one way too early as well. I think about Skylar, and wonder what his life will be like. I can't imagine it. My boss did a very noble thing when Olivia died. He set up a trust for Skylar. I won't go into the gory details, but he should be set.
Uncle Pat's funeral saw another gathering of family long-missed. Again, it was a sad occaision, but even so we managed to have some good times as well. Pop's and my trip was surprisingly easy. We encountered almost no traffic, and spent far less that we had expected. Of course, we all again fell to the 'we only see each other when someone dies' lament, and exchanged phone numbers.
We'll see what happens. This is the notoriously procrastinitory branch of the family. I have hopes, but we shall see.
I have a couple funny things to go into, and will do so soon. I have a few pix to download first, but look for something tomorrow (if i get motivated).
Oh, and btw as I was sitting in the service room talking to my sister and some other members of my family I felt a discrete tap on my shoulder. It was my aunt Marilyn (the widow) asking me if I would be a pallbearer. Not knowing what else to say, I accepted.
Now that I think about it, tho I think I see a pattern. Of the 6 of us asked, 5 were his nephews. The 6th was his youngest daughter's boyfriend.
Ok, think I'm going to wind this up for now, but I'll be around shortly.
Peace,
T.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
It's not you, it's me....
I know you have prolly heard those words before, wether from someone that was breaking up with you, or on some t.v. program or movie where someone was. Either way, it's true today.
There has been a lot going on:
The fishing trip I spoke of when last we chatted did in fact get snowed out. It took two weeks for things to calm down, but we did in fact get to go. In toto we caught 7 fish. I had 2 (and the first), Pops had 2 (and the biggest) and Michael had 3 (the most). As the traditional bet is : first, biggest, most we broke even.
This next bit goes back a bit, but one of the girls I work with was killed in a car accident just over a month ago. Two days after my last post, to be precise. She was driving home when a drunk driver crossed into her lane and hit her head on at an estimated 120 mph. She was killed instantly. She would have been 23 in October. She left behind, among others, her 4-year-old son. She was 5 minutes from home when she died.
Now, about 4 days ago, we learned that Pop's brother, my Uncle Pat just died. I don't really have any details on that on yet, but rest assured, I shall share them when I do. We're going to CA for the funeral. I took a couple vacation days, and will have 4 off in a row. Almost unheard of. I intend to take pics on the run to Cali, and will post them along with some others when I return.
All this death and destruction has prompted me to get a tatoo. Not too long ago, the phrase 'death was in his left hand, and pain his right' popped into my head, and as I writer, I found it quite intriguing. I was planning on using it in a story about some sort of avenging hero or somesuch. Close on the heels of the phrase came the idea that he would have kanji tattooed on his forearms i.e. death on his left, and pain on his right. Hot on the heels of that idea was that I should have similar tatoos, so this Sunday last, 3/25 at 5:00 pm, I had death placed on my left forearm.
It's pretty cool looking, and will be one of the forthcoming pictures.
Wish I had more happiness to spread around, but for now, that's all I have.
Take care, and tell the people you love that you love them. You never know when it will be the last time.
T.
There has been a lot going on:
The fishing trip I spoke of when last we chatted did in fact get snowed out. It took two weeks for things to calm down, but we did in fact get to go. In toto we caught 7 fish. I had 2 (and the first), Pops had 2 (and the biggest) and Michael had 3 (the most). As the traditional bet is : first, biggest, most we broke even.
This next bit goes back a bit, but one of the girls I work with was killed in a car accident just over a month ago. Two days after my last post, to be precise. She was driving home when a drunk driver crossed into her lane and hit her head on at an estimated 120 mph. She was killed instantly. She would have been 23 in October. She left behind, among others, her 4-year-old son. She was 5 minutes from home when she died.
Now, about 4 days ago, we learned that Pop's brother, my Uncle Pat just died. I don't really have any details on that on yet, but rest assured, I shall share them when I do. We're going to CA for the funeral. I took a couple vacation days, and will have 4 off in a row. Almost unheard of. I intend to take pics on the run to Cali, and will post them along with some others when I return.
All this death and destruction has prompted me to get a tatoo. Not too long ago, the phrase 'death was in his left hand, and pain his right' popped into my head, and as I writer, I found it quite intriguing. I was planning on using it in a story about some sort of avenging hero or somesuch. Close on the heels of the phrase came the idea that he would have kanji tattooed on his forearms i.e. death on his left, and pain on his right. Hot on the heels of that idea was that I should have similar tatoos, so this Sunday last, 3/25 at 5:00 pm, I had death placed on my left forearm.
It's pretty cool looking, and will be one of the forthcoming pictures.
Wish I had more happiness to spread around, but for now, that's all I have.
Take care, and tell the people you love that you love them. You never know when it will be the last time.
T.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
That which we call a rose...
By any other name would still be just another flower that when cut from it's native bush will wither and die.
I know rather a bright start to it, huh?
So, a couple things:
1. Michael has arrived, and yes Andie it's for good.
2. It never even dawned on me that my last post on 1/12 was acutally on my birthday (yay 41... not)
3. Pops' birthday was a scant 10 days ago, on 2/12. 67 years young, the poor bastard.
Today, being my day off the plan is to go fishing. Of course, it's dawned windy, chilly, and threatining snow. You might think that would discourage us, but if you did, you'd be wrong.
Dead wrong. See, I hit a 6-spot at the Pinon...Well, it got bought, so it's the Gold Dust West now, and since the casino was nice enough to buy my fishing gear ($80.00 bucks on a 1 nickle bet) we're fucking going.
We may get out there, spend 5 miserable minutes at the lake and then head home, but, damn it, we're fucking going. See, I went to Wal-Mart after work last night and bought a couple poles, some tackle, bait and a tackle box. This is all going to be broken in today, and fuck the weather gods.
Not much else exciting, but look for some photos later....
T.
I know rather a bright start to it, huh?
So, a couple things:
1. Michael has arrived, and yes Andie it's for good.
2. It never even dawned on me that my last post on 1/12 was acutally on my birthday (yay 41... not)
3. Pops' birthday was a scant 10 days ago, on 2/12. 67 years young, the poor bastard.
Today, being my day off the plan is to go fishing. Of course, it's dawned windy, chilly, and threatining snow. You might think that would discourage us, but if you did, you'd be wrong.
Dead wrong. See, I hit a 6-spot at the Pinon...Well, it got bought, so it's the Gold Dust West now, and since the casino was nice enough to buy my fishing gear ($80.00 bucks on a 1 nickle bet) we're fucking going.
We may get out there, spend 5 miserable minutes at the lake and then head home, but, damn it, we're fucking going. See, I went to Wal-Mart after work last night and bought a couple poles, some tackle, bait and a tackle box. This is all going to be broken in today, and fuck the weather gods.
Not much else exciting, but look for some photos later....
T.
Friday, January 12, 2007
My life on hold
I know it's been ages, and you all prolly thought I'd fallen off the edge of the world, but that is not the case.
If you want to blame someone for my protracted abscence, you can single out my sister.
You see, she convinced my mom to pool up all the money that she usually spends on me for my Christmas/birthday presents and give me the money for a Playstation 3.
So, you see, that's where I've been. Couple that with the winter doldrums, cold ass weather (bout 2 inches of snow on the ground) and work, and you have my boring life.
There's much to discuss from the last month, and I'll get to it, I promise. This is more of an "I haven't died, so you don't need to send flowers" post than anything else.
In the meantime, ponder this:
In the first week of February, my son Michael will be coming to live with me and Pops. Pretty cool, huh?
Outie,
T.
If you want to blame someone for my protracted abscence, you can single out my sister.
You see, she convinced my mom to pool up all the money that she usually spends on me for my Christmas/birthday presents and give me the money for a Playstation 3.
So, you see, that's where I've been. Couple that with the winter doldrums, cold ass weather (bout 2 inches of snow on the ground) and work, and you have my boring life.
There's much to discuss from the last month, and I'll get to it, I promise. This is more of an "I haven't died, so you don't need to send flowers" post than anything else.
In the meantime, ponder this:
In the first week of February, my son Michael will be coming to live with me and Pops. Pretty cool, huh?
Outie,
T.
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