These are just words...

Verbatim...

2008-04-21T02:23:00.000-07:00

Wow, 2+am is not the time to be updating this thing...! Off work @ 1 and downing g.t.'s & beer so that tomorrow will come sooner/later all at once. Woops, out of beer...so I was prodded to writing by looking @ Marcus' blog, a familiar condition. His link to my blog (this one) reminded me that I never write on here. I guess living the chaos is enough, I don't have the energy to describe it to anyone outside the minute circle of friends I talk to on a regular basis. Sure it'd be entertaining, and sure it'd be good to exercise those mental muscles and type up a report every now and then. Blah. I'm a lazy bastard. Details of the past few months, in no particular order: Fredde is back among the living! Joe (little) & I went to Clear Creek Distillery & met the other (3rd) Joe who toured and sampeled our brains out. Two bottles is a nasty minimum for the nectar of Mcarthys Single Malt. Big Joe is officallly M.L. ?. Those who know, know. He's family, offical. I've got the photos. Living Sacrifice is back togther! Werd! The dart board in the garage resulted in the first anual "fight club night". No, Cheryl wasn't home, and she was glad to have missed it. I've got photos of this too. Missed the (free) My Chemical Romance show, slept in and had to go to work. Crazy work schedule (as always). Determined to go back to school in the fall term, summer is for traveling (Ireland & Sweeden, here we come!). Some good video-game nights with Joe(s). Cheryl loves her Mac. Her jewelry business is going strong and expanding. The blazers go 41-41. Good. Man, there's so many little things to tell here I could go on for hours and hours...but instead I'm going to go pass out so I can head to work around noon. Jury duty sucked (again), I still don't know who hit my car, Roger Clyne is less than a week away, Neka escaped the safeway hell, my new video card RAWKS, hackintosh FTW(!) and that's all I got....latte....

It's not wednesday...

2007-12-20T15:37:00.001-08:00

I always end up writing on Wednesdays...no particular reason why, it just works out that way. I haven't written anything online in a bit, so I figured I'd throw out a bit of fluff to make today move a bit quicker. We finished Christmas shopping a long time ago, just an item or two was left by the beginning of December. Cheryl got her bike, I got my shotgun, Christmas is over for us. At least in a commercial regard. We still will see people and all that hoo-hah. Marianne and Andrew (& fam) are moving back to Oregon (finally) so that'll make for a good gift. They're actually due in today. It'll be nice to have them closer. Bunch of idiots (myself included) talking about going to the Christmas day blazer game. I've been backing the blazers solid since they started dumping the assholes with attitudes. I've always, ALWAYS backed Travis Outlaw. ALWAYS! Ask anyone, I've been behind that guy forever. It's good to see him getting it done. Cheryl's new job went haywire after a couple weeks, the union called a strike (rightfully) and everything is uncertain right now. At least the strike is over and the sides settled. We've started going to a Friday night group in Vancouver that Dr. Robinson is teaching. Actually, we're going again, we used to attend years ago when it was in Clackamas. It's been good to meet new couples and re-awaken parts of our minds that were dormant and under used. I drank a really decent home-brew from a guy I know from work. A smoked porter, aged in a bourbon barrel. I wish I could give a better tasting impression, but I was tired, it was tasty and it was 1 am. My powers of recollection only go so far. As you can tell I have nothing specific to write here, just ramblings which I transcribe as they are remembered. I'm sure it tends to be a boring read, but c'mon...who's really reading this anyway? Fredde, if you're reading this, I emailed you to no reply...get at me. Finally saw Harry Potter 5 (thanks for the motivation Rachel...) and that's about it for recent movies. We're all about the cheap theaters. Spent a day last week ripping up subfloor in a house in Chehalis that was flood damaged. Nasty, backbreaking work. It didn't help that the majority of guys there were ten years younger than me. I felt old and out of shape. For a couple days. Eh, gotta get back on the health wagon.
i guess that'll do for now...nothing really striking me as worthy of another fifteen minutes of writting. Oh yeah, play Puzzle Quest. Awesome game. Also, listen to Raising Sand by Allison Krauss and Robert Plant. It's mandatory. Alright, later...

Sobriety...

2007-11-02T17:28:00.000-07:00

It seems that writing while under the influence can be both fun and educational. I tend to be both honest and obtuse at the same time. Take my last post for example...It was 3am, I'd been at the Brass all night, Matt had just become a father (woohoo!), Iz had just lost his job to nefarious evildoers (hence the bar and beer) and I had just found out about Dougal getting laid out by the junkies with the bat. Now it would probably have been easier to just say those things and be done, but I wanted vengeance that night (!!!). Blood and bone to repay the harm done to mine. And, I'd been drinking. So we end up with a post about life in a hippy-dippy nonsense kinda way. I posture and act tough and say how I'm gonna do this and these other guys are gonna do that. And maybe we will. But now, looking back a bit, I'm much more excited about this picture of Dougal I took a week later. He still has his hospital bracelet on. We're all in a good place here. That's what I'd really like to be posting. I just need to stay sober to do so...

Older than skool...

2007-09-25T03:19:00.000-07:00

You think things are going just peachy, then...wham! Mothers are comin at you strong like! Boys are down with no jobs, boys be having baby daughters, boys be in the hospital with double broken jaws...shit's crazy. I'm my own self, nutz and shiz, lovin life and reppin my boys. Gotta be down, things gonna get worked out, people gotta be set straight. Junkies gonna get popped, jaws on the mend. Gettin up on the burn. Black IPA's. Southern thugs set it straight. Life is like this picture: I may not be all pervy, but things look as they do. Give peace a lick. Or be down to roll fools. Friends make shit better when it gets real.

Burp...(!)

2007-06-29T00:35:00.000-07:00

So, I finally discovered Twitter, which allows me to post as I've always wanted to...often and in small unimportant amounts...160 character maximum...all you get is a little taste of the moment...
you can't erase a post, you don't need to stress over grammar or punctuation...especially not spelling...it's immediate, it's quick and dirty...I love it...If I don't post proper on here, it'll show up any way as a twitter...Werdskivich!

Lichtenstein! (no, not really)

2006-12-06T13:13:00.000-08:00

Its afternoon I'm still on my first cup of coffee and I'm rockin bedhead and bare feet. Thinking about trying to convince my cell carrier to cut me a deal on a new phone, but motivation is a tricky thing. I've researched it a bit and they seem to be pretty disinterested in retaining longtime customers. I've been with them forever and it would seem to be a good move on their part to deal, but, who knows. I don't want it for free (though I wouldn't say no), but I do want it to be competitive. Maybe a bit lower than what their competitors are offering me.
It's really a buyers market. I can get a similar phone free from the other guys. They seem to realize a two-year contract is worth a slight up front loss. I'm just going to have to see if my current company is that intuitive also. Ok, my keyboards batteries are dying and I'm triple-tapping like there's no tomorrow. Small annoyances make the world go around. Let's see, todo list for today:

1) See about new tires before the trip to Tahoe

2) Call cellphone company to see if they want to retain my business

3) See if I have enough money to get the phone AND the mp3 player

4) Get Iz the coffee (he knows...)

5) Clear up space on the hard drives ( 650 gigs isn't enough...seriously)

6) Change batteries in keyboard

7) Clean the fridge

That seems to be enough for my day off. Well I'm gonna go back to my work-in-progress, online gift shopping. Only a few more to go. Kisses (or something more masculine that proves I'm both sensitive AND secure in my sexuality)

If it means nothing at all...

2006-12-01T01:52:00.000-08:00

It's been forever and a day since I've updated this mess. Last time I tried to connect it booted me to some crazy new version of the blog and wouldn't let me onto this humble, rambling page. Life is fine, things have changed...what else do we write about, really? I can wish I've got some fantastic reason for popping back on, but you're gonna be disappointed. I wish I'd been there to clue you in on Band of Horses or Regina Spektor when I first fell for them. To tell you about the joys of concert ticket hook-ups. Going away parties for old bros from way back when. Welcome home parties for new friends who I've traveled long distances to meet. Eternal amounts of libations. The thrill of last minute adventures and unexpected doings. Computer hell and bliss. Re-connected and strengthened friendships. Marriages falling apart all around. Second anniversaries and spousal success. Life is splitting apart the seams of my apathy and I'm glad to let it spill out here.
I'm excited for this month! Cheryl is selling her jewelry like mad at winter bazaars and boutiques. I've worked my fingers to death helping her (that's what I'm taking a break from right now...). Work is back to (almost) normal, the Beaverton fun ended and my day shifts are becoming more regular. I built an awesome multi-level cat palace with scratching thingees and a hanging tube of death. Cheryl is teacher-assistant subbing a few times a week (and enjoying it!). I'm perusing school schedules with good intentions. The awesome cheap bar is still super awesome (that's right, I never wrote about the awesome cheap bar. It's all mine!). Iz has a spankin new house that's more centrally located. HE-who-is-never-named (by request) is having alot of success himself at school and will be able to buy and sell me (many times over) shortly. The Tahoe trip is so close I can taste it. Windows Vista hasn't crashed on me yet. Construction on the house is paused but well. The wiring is done to the upper level, all that's left is the garage and basement...easypeasy. My new boss is swell.
See, there's reason for excitement. This is only a free-form sampling of my life being lived. There's so much more. I'll spill here. Really. It's not all pipe-smoke and rum. Flowers, tattoos and whiskey work their way into life also. Well, they do if it's a good life. Here's hoping I spill enough so that exhibitionism, curiosity and voyeurism are all satisfied. Just please, PLEASE don't repeat the mistakes. I've made 'em for you. Find some new ones.

A Given...

2006-07-24T13:25:00.000-07:00

Thank you: To everyone who was kind enough to come through my line saturday and NOT tell me that Modest Mouse was playing a concert in the park nearby. I really enjoyed not going when I got off work. I had such a good time going home instead. I truly appreciate the forsight and thought that went into not letting me know about that awesome event. Thanks again...

I've Studied Your Music...

2006-07-23T12:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening at work a couple came through my line. A man and woman, the guy was sorta tall and the lady was shorter than both him and me. They were pleasant and conversational which was nice, considering the 100+ degree weather we've been having doesn't lend to politeness. I wish I could say that I knew immediately, and maybe part of me did. At work I'm the center of my own universe. As long as I'm amused and happy, things move along swimmingly. It's not that I don't enjoy my customers or conversing with them. I really enjoy that aspect of my job. It's just that I come first. I figure if I'm in a good mood maybe it'll rub off on those I deal with. Let them live vicariously through me or some such. Anyway, I think I realized rather quickly that I was not the center of this particular group of people. Neither of them was being dramatic or loud or showy. But the man, he had a presence that subtly radiated. It was as if he was very accustomed to being central in things. A resignation to his place in things, almost. I can't say I remember our conversation at all, other than that it was nice and tinged with humor. Nothing remotely important was said, no personal references were made. It was just three people, an employee and two customers on a hot Saturday night, b.s.-ing till the bill was paid. I liked his shirt quite a bit, in fact I think I may have rung him up before, based on his shirt. I've rung someone else with that same shirt up before at least. It's an awesome shirt. They took off with their goods, I made one last quip and then reflected on the name on the receipt. I had other customers in line and I didn't have time to really ponder or process. A minute or two later, no one else in line, I realized that the nice man had been Peter Buck. Yeah, that Peter Buck. And I think I probably smiled the rest of the night. I have a million good memories of listening to REM. I have turned countless people onto Tuatara. So it was nice to have a musical figure I respect turn out to be normal people, who buys ice on a hot evening and has pleasant pointless conversations with the clerk at the store.

Worst(est)...

2006-07-22T22:20:00.000-07:00

So on Friday night we went to a comedy showcase thingy. It happens every third Friday at the Bagdad Theater, with all sorts of local wiseacres trying hard to earn your three bucks. And they really were funny, mostly. But the funniest thing that happened had nothing to do with the comedians on stage. No, the funniest person, place or thing of the night was the "Worlds' Worst Bartender". The setup as follows: I walk out of the "theater" portion of the place headed for the pisser. I use the facilities, then proceed back past the theater to the bar. To access the theater or the bar, you have to have first shown I.d. back at the door that precedes the bar and the theater. Essentially it would be highly unlikely, if not nigh impossible, for me to be in the theater or at the bar if I had not already passed some form of identification check. Anyhows, I place a (single) drink order with the bartender right as Tristan, the evenings m.c. and a friend of mine, walks by. The bartender asks me for an I.d. and seems put off that I don't have it ready and waiting (I think she actually said "You coulda had it out!"). Odd, but sure, what the heck, I want a beer. I make sure to pull out and set down my I.d. before I greet Tristan, so as not to be rude and further irritate her. Tristan and I shake hands, b.s. and comment on a couple of the jokes. He heads off to shmooze and I go to pay for my drink. The whole thing takes a few seconds. At this point the bar-person has not only not started my drink but has not picked up the I.d. that is laying in front of her (next to my wallet, which I left there as a sign of my good faith and intention to pay... and because I'm lazy). She's sorta glaring at me as I turn around ( I hadn't even walked away to talk to Tristan, just turned around...) and says "Is this I.d. real?" Now, I'm a smart-ass by nature and the first thing outta my mouth anytime anyone asks me that question is "No". I know, I know, not the smartest answer. But at this point I'm not thinking that she's truly out to deny me a beer. And she hasn't even picked up the I.d. Plus, who'd really be stupid enough to think someone would fess up to it if the I.d. was fake? Well... The bar-vendor proceeds to ask me "Really?" to which I answer "Yes, it's a real I.d. and I have other forms of state issued photo I.d. if you'd like to see them.". I'm hoping to soothe hurt feelings and all that new-age hippy crap. The carrot not the stick, per say. The bar-overlord looks at my I.d. again, tosses it at me and then says "Are you over twenty-one?". And I'm hungry. Sooo hungry. Because I get both feet firmly in my mouth when I say "No". Sweet Elvis, the expression on her face would have peeled the paint off the wall behind me if I'd ducked like I wanted to. I realize at this point it may not be funny to anyone but me, but it was freakin hilarious right then to see her grip on sanity loosen. She turned with the speed of a cornered badger and said "Whaaaatttt?". I quickly reply "Of course it's real...um...", because what else do you say to the mental woman who holds the fate of your beer consumption in her hands? Yes she was tightly wound. Yes she was asking odd questions. Yes she was foaming the heck outta the beer she was beginning to pour. No, I didn't want to really piss her off because I just wanted a beer! Beginning and end of my thought process. And you'd think that might have been it. She'd be surly, I'd tip nicely, end of story. No, it gets weirder. She gives me a full on glare that did peel the paint (honest!) and says "If you really were under twenty-one and worked for the OLCC, you'd have to tell me.". And, see, that's a myth. If the OLCC (liquor-Nazis') are gonna perform a sting, they aren't gonna tell you if the "decoy" is underage. They don't have to. The idea that they do is based on a misunderstanding arising thusly: When the OLCC does a sting they send underage persons with their own real underage I.d. in to buy booze. If you sell to the kiddies, you're busted. So, yes they are underage. Always. But no, they don't tell you that, ever. Their I.d. does. And if you're dumb enough to not actually look at the I.d. and just ask the kid, of course he or she is gonna lie to you (cause that's their job!)! This is right up there with "If you're a cop you gotta tell me (so I can pretend this is baking powder)...". It's a STING! A TRAP! No one is gonna tell you squat! If you do your job and look at the I.d., you should be cool. Anyway, as you can tell from this rant here, I couldn't let the strange, mis-informed bartender go on thinking she was getting over on the fuzz. So I told her she was mistaken. And she swore at me. I know, shocking. I believe it was "The fuck you don't...It's the law", which sounds so well-reasoned and thought out. I attempted to relate stories of grocery stores that had been stung by minors who'd said "Yes, I'm over twenty-one" to a clerk while their I.d. said eighteen or nineteen. She wanted nothing to do with reality. The fact that I worked for one of those self-same grocers was irrelevant. I had originally said " See, I work for [blank] and it's happened to us at other stores.". In reply to this she asked "Where do you work?". I said, "At [blankity] on [blank]." to answer her (again). She says "Where, do you work?" (note the emphasis). I reply exactly as before, enunciating more clearly. She pauses, I launch into my rant from above once more and then the weirdness happens (ok, it's already odd...). She holds up her hand in a "stop" motion and says "I blah blah blah, at gobbledygook...yippee blah blah blah WHAT?". That's verbatim. She actually started baby-talking to mock me. I'm not slurring my words, I'm not drunk, I'm down-right stupidified at this point (that she was this upset). I look quizzically at her and she says "WHERE...do YOU...WORK? HUH?". Very slowly and angrily. Now I've clearly told her twice before where I work, which has nothing to do with getting me a beer or anything else at all for that matter. There is no reason for her to ask or know, especially if she hasn't listened already. But I still want a beer. So slowly, politely I say "I work at [blankest] down on [blanker].", and I smile. And she scowls and says "FINALLY!". Finally what? Only the Shadow knows. She gets the beer, slides it at me and says "Well you're still wrong wherever you work. Are you gonna pay or what?". At this point I'm just chuckling quietly because this is all so other-worldly. Bizaroo world type stuff happening here. Of course she hasn't told me the bill so I just hand her a card and smile. She rings up the drink and undercharges me, which is hilarious in and of itself. I've now taken longer to get a beer than the first act took on stage. I'm still laughing to myself and make sure to over tip, because she's obviously misplaced at the bar. She should be on stage. And I think she earned a that money as sure as any of the other comedians that night.

Six Each...

2006-07-15T03:50:00.000-07:00

So, the night, where things happened and I invaded a dorm with beer...um...yeah. So, it wasn't the first time I did this, I mean I'd been there before and drank. I'd even caused mayhem there before (not really, but I did sneak in and was present for the elevator breaking down). This sounds soooo much cooler than it really is (or was). Anyway, while I was there last time, a certain person of our raiding party took the resident pussies' suggestion to heart. The resident resident suggested that we all go piss on his R.A.'s door. Of course this was all in jest or some such bullshit. Not on my watch, pussy! The unnamed member of the party unclothed his member, strode boldly down the hall and proceeded to urinate up, down and around the R.A.'s door. And on, don't forget on the door. Who's a pussy now? My only regret was not catching this in person, but someone had to drive, however badly. The defiled door wasn't discovered till the next day, but nothing happened anyway because the R.A. is a fuckin' pussy! And so is the resident resident for not joining in. But I swear that the next time I'm there, and so does the last unnamed member of our party, that I (we) will piss on the door so long and hard that it will be warped beyond all repair and be a monument to petty college grudges forever and ever. Or at least till the R.A. appropriates money to replace it. Pussy.

Design(s)...

2006-07-01T00:15:00.000-07:00

Like I have a point....

Too much music, too little sleep. Ramblings and such. Onwards...

Lately I have: Participated in a kidnapping that resulted in high altitudes and felonious assult on public landmarks with golf balls. Re-set a countertop. Driven way too fast, way too late on the freeway back from a graduation. Been sick alot. Trained new employees at work (God save us). Met new persons that totally rock and whos' tools I will be stealing. Invaded a college dorm room with the intent to consume beer after two am. Talked to a man about a bike (a horse woulda been sooo much cooler, but...). Hung brackets for bicycle storage in the garage. Bought a nine-dollar mp3 player. Went and bitched out of a crew meeting at the last minute. Watched "The Sopranos" for the first time. Encouraged a man to drink an entire bottle of malt vinegar. Learned the basics to playing "Cricket" on a dart board. Bought really excellent beer by the case-load. Bought merely "ok" wine by the case-load, but at an awesome price. Read a bunch of ebooks on a tiny-assed old-school palm pilot "clone" (with backlight!!!). Saw a show or two. Hung out with a good friend (while he was stuck in town) more than I'd seen him in the entire last year.

So, there's more to what I've been up to, but that's all I got for now. My glass is empty and I need to go to bed. Privacy is for the cowardly...

Unwanted...

2006-05-25T23:48:00.000-07:00

Oh man, it's almost midnight, I just escaped work, my wife's not home and the beer is getting warm. Must mean it's time to update this thing. Don't even know what's to update, so here comes random crap...at the pirate vs. nina party last friday, the pirates totally kicked ninja ass. Our costumes were last minute but it was fun. I bought a bicycle and promptly crashed, took myself out really good and pissed Cheryl off quite nicely. Iz and I were out riding at 1:30 am, because we'd both got off work late and Cheryl had to be up at 4am, so being the considerate bastard I am, I didn't come home and wake her up. Well, sorta. I came home to get my bike and stuff, but I didn't turn on the lights and make noise and things. Anyhow, we were out doin the late night cruise, nice and easy, went to signal a turn and "BOOM"...down I go. There was a length of orange plastic tubing between my front brake pad and tire that bound up and tossed me but good. Iz still swears it was a tree sprig, but I was the one who pulled it out. Ended up with shreded arms, elbows, a nasty knee and a downright frightening hand/palm/finger combo. Booyah! Looks better two+ weeks later, but bled and hurt like a mofo at the time. Gonna have some cute scars. The cool thing is that the bike is pristine except for the pedal on the downed side. Soon as my knee and wrist stop aching it's back on the beast. It's such a nice bike! Cheryl wasn't thrilled to get a call at 1:45 am asking her to get some bandages and hydogen peroxide. She took grim pleasure in aplying said hydrogen peroxide, and my lack of screams was made up for in swearing and tears. Iz laughed all the way through it. All my customers at work asked how much I'd had to drink. What a reputation I must have! Onwards...see, I always think of crap to blog when I'm not in front of the keyboard, but when I get here, I just ramble on. Cheryl and I got hooked on American Idol this year. There, I admitted it, the healing can begin. Ever since an unnamed singer from an ex-portland band told me of her admiration for the show, I've had a morbid curiosity towards it. Now I know her truth. Let's see...built Cheryl a workshop area in the basement, it's nice and stuff. She's got a work benchish thingy and storage and such. Pegboard for organization, bins for materials. Oh, and we got her a super cool sewing machine. Her parents bought it for her, so kudos go to them. She's been crafting up all sorts of cool things. Random, random...added another wine rack to the house. No, we're not lushes, we just drink alot. Put a new harddrive in the old computer. Six hundred and sixty plus gigs of storage now. Archive everything! Old bros from way back when making suprise appearances in life right now. College boys are making good on summer internships. Cinco de Mayo was a birthday party gone awesome with the best fajitas Matt has ever made and Tequilla to drown in. How sick he got, only the shadow knows. And yes, I did buy the disney princess tableclothes for his present! We've got new flooring in the kitchen/mudroom. Free books from dumpsters rule! Um...Cheryl's home and my (last) beer is almost empty, time to ramble no more. I'll try to put some thought into another post instead of just going on about crap without explaining it. But it's so fun...

Beaten...

2006-04-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

...And every moment is a lyric
If I could sing it like I hear it
But if I could see, Not a single sound
would escape from me at all

And my genius is in confessing
Like my sins become a blessing
As if with enough empathy
I reach redemption on my own

How great a sorrow I have found
To stand alone in a crowd
Separated and united
By the shame that bows our heads...

Make Money...

2006-03-18T17:37:00.000-08:00

Allrighty, that's how a Saturday should be! Heck, that's how a Friday night should be. It was a long day at work, followed up by a very pleasant evening at a St. Pat's day "party". No one seemed smashed, everyone I met was a genuinely interesting and nice person, the spread was more than adequate and I was able to drive home at the end of it. A good night in my book. The only knock against the evening was the absence of whiskey, but the beer and "other" liquids more than made up for it. Got to see a friend I hadn't seen for a while and catch up with her. Yada yada blah. What really needs said about a party? Who hasn't been to one and enjoyed it? Really? Anyhows, a good time was had by all. The end. Today was a different kinda fun. The first annual "Day after St. Patrick's Day Hike...". We got up around eleven, made a big breakfast, threw on some clothes and headed for the Gorge. The preferred hike of out-of-shape late-night partiers is Angels Rest, and we went, saw and conquered. Total time for the 4.5 mile hike was two hours, with about twenty minutes of sitting at the top. Almost 1,700 feet of elevation gained and a good workout to boot. Perfect weather accompanied us today, crisp and cool with sun breaks and no rain. If a better use of a Saturday exists, I haven't heard of it. Now, a light lunch, a nice nap, some reading and then off to a concert by none other than the illustrious and highly something-or-othered "Boy Eats Drum Machine"! Word. C'mon folks, it's ok to desire a day as full and complete as this. I just remind myself how lucky I am to get a day like this, they happen about every two and a half months for me. So I make the absolute most of it. Carpe the snot outta the diem. And make sure I write it down so that for the next couple months I have hope for the future. See you on the dance floor...

To Do: Tuesday, 14th March, 2006

2006-03-14T11:57:00.000-08:00

Not much apparently. Laundry, eat a bit of breakfast, wander around the internet while I wait for the laundry to finish. I troll the usual places, looking for new this, updated that. Stumbling upon the occasional link to newer and cooler things. Dreaming of shiny new parts to punch up an aging computer that functions quite adequately, but has lost all of its sex appeal. Waiting would seem to be the theme I'm going with here, looking for what's coming next, but doing nothing in the inbetween what's happened and what's going to happen. Action on my part is rather limited to work and more work right now. There are plenty of things to do, that I enjoy doing, that I'm just not doing presently. Instead I'm waiting for new things that I don't have and can't afford, which somehow seem so much more interesting and cool and alive than the things I do have and can do. I can't say that any of the folks whom I admire (for whatever reason) seem to have got by on sitting on their hands and waiting. I don't seem to remember that they attributed their success or accomplishments to waiting and dinking around in the interim. The drive to do has left me, replaced by the drive to have or to be. Completion is a destination for me right now, not the journey. Sorta sad, sorta pathetic. I could get up off my hands and go draw, or finish wrapping the bar tape on Cheryls' bicycle, or work on converting the headboard I just acquired into a bar top for the kitchen. I could go on a walk, read the paper at a coffee shop, finish re-wiring the kitchen or build a stand for the freewall panels we're painting in the patio. I could hang clothes in the closet, wash dishes in the basement sink, organize cd's next to the computer or play Knights of the Old Republic for the umpteenth time. Most likely I'll go get another cup of coffee and sit back down at the keyboard, looking up ram and videocards and harddrives that I don't need and can't have. I'll compare the merits of expensive bicycles that are comprised of pieces of technological genius which are far beyond my abilities to make proper use of. I'll reload webpages in the vain hope that one of them has updated with new pictures of fantastic stuff which I desperately need to know about. And I'll continue waiting for the laundry to finish. Because it will finish. And then, who knows, maybe I'll get to all that other stuff I should be doing instead...

3:23pm Dec. 1, 05 Thurs.

2006-02-17T12:19:00.000-08:00

Or not. It's four days later, our last day before we head home. Today is also a day at sea. That means no forced six am alarms, no reason to get up early and nothing to do. We slept in, packed our bags, attempted to tie up loose ends. This entry will also be an attempt to tie up loose ends. I'm going to toss out unrelated observations in a free form sorta way just so they get down in the record and not lost in my lousy memory. Here goes:

San Juan: As we are driving to the boat, one of the first things I see is a dead goat on the median of the freeway. Weird. Also, the freeway lanes narrow to the point where two cars cannot physically drive side by side. It's three marked lanes each dirrection, but is effectively two lanes in many places. This lead to alot of sudden breaking and swearing on the drivers part. Oh boy!

Trucks: All the trucks we saw on all the islands were four door vehicles. All of them. Not just access cabs w/suicide doors, but full on four door vehicles. I saw one F150 with two doors. That was it. And the majority of vehicles are "off" brand vehicles. Lots and lots of Mitsubishi, Daewoo, Hyundai and some interesting European brands I didn't recognize. Also, Mitsubishi has trucks. Who knew? (Afternote: Well, right after we got back, I saw ads on tv for their trucks, so I guess I know...)

We got to the boat from the airport for fifty cents more than the cruise line would have charged us. Quicker too. So that worked out well.

People: Our big to-do's at diner were with the same people every night. One couple, we went to a show or two with and talked with most nights. The other couples were polite but didn't really converse with us. Of course we were the youngest couple at the table. But I'm not completely sure that was the reason we were left out. Maybe. Now, the first night at diner we met a couple, Andre and Betti, who were from Jamaica. A nice, real couple. Not alot of pretensiousness or phoniness. Just geniunely nice people. They switched to a later diner time after the first night, so we didn't see them for meals, but we kept running into them all over. We spent our days on St. Lucia and Curacao with them. On St. Lucia we split the cost of a cab tour with them and saw the entire island. ThPiton mountains, the Soufreire mineral baths and sulphur springs. We sampled june plums'golden apples which quite literally pierced my throat with a barb that was extremely painful till I dislodged it. I drank a red stripe for the first time as a toast to Andres' homeland. We talked, went sightseeing and had a fantastic time. On Curacao we walked the island making huge circles in the main town area. We shopped till we were sick of stores, ate chinese food for the first time on the trip, haggled over prices with everyone and marveled at the Dutch influenced architecture. Everything was brightly painted, due to a past mayors proclimation. The story is that he was tired of being blinded by reflected sun off of the tall, all white buildings that prevalied in the area. To reduce glare he ordered that all buildings should be painted a color other than white. Now, that this Mayor also owned the largest paint company on the island is, I'm sure, purely coincedental. Anyway, we finshed up Curacao by drinking a bottle of rum punch on the promenade by the dock. This let us make the boat with a whole fifteen minutes to spare. All in all the time we spent with Andre and Betti was among the best spent time of the entire trip. If they could come to Oregon or we could go to Jamaica I think we'd all enjoy it. (Afternote: We saw them once more on this day and made plans to meet that evening. We never did see them. We didn't know their deck or room number and no one else we knew knew them. Despite a couple of full ship walkthroughs, we never ran across them. The next day as we left, we looked for them but couldn't find them. Not saying goodbye and exchanging info was the saddest thing that happened this trip.)

The islands we walked on and toured:

St. Marteen: Sort of grungy in a back alley sort of way. Everyone hits you up for a buck and you feel like you might be robbed at any moment. One of our diner table mates actually was robbed there. Also the only island I was offered pot on.

St. Kitts: Also very dingy. The island truely felt like someones home though and not like a tourist complex. The most "real" and "ordinary" of the islands we were on. Everything was run down and washed out colors abounded. We went to an Anglican church (Afternote: St. George's. Built originally in 1710 on top of a French catholic church that the English had destroyed in 1706. The present church was built in 1869, after previous itenerations had been destroyed by both God and mans hand. Cool.) where we looked at gravestones dating back to the early 1700's from a multitude of ethnic backgrounds. We walked the twenty or so blocks in each direction and went back to the ship. No shopping and we'd seen what there was to see.

Antigua: We took a tour on this island. Went all the way across the island. Saw a handfull of the forty four british forts on the island. Most islands we traveled to survive on tourism and they made sure to remind you of this on this specific tour. A very pretty place, though not the prettiest or the nicest. Gourgeous water and stunning sea views.

St. Lucia: Our cab ride day with Andre and Betti. We saw all of the island. Second only to St. Kitts in terms of having a "natural" feel. Even Antigua was changing to entice tourists, but both St. Lucia and St. Kitts gave off a "take it or leave it" vibe with regards to tourism. Nothing was fancied or spruced up. You saw it as it is. Lots of scenic viewpoints and the steepest roads of any of the islands we were on. Also introduced us to the art of preventative horn use. As a safety measure on tight corners. A terrific idea. Instead of using a horn as an agressive weapon of frustration,, it was used as a tool of safety to prevent accidents. Nifty! In the running as a favorite island stop, but not as the best island.

Barbados: I loved this one! Not only because of the sea turtles and sun, but because everyone I'd met told me Brbados has the best rum-bar none! (Afternote: They do!) I asked one of the guides on our snorkel tour which was the islands best rum and he told me Mount Gay Extra Old. (Afternote: So true!) One bottle is currently in custody of the ships personel, awaiting our departure tomorrow. Ican't wait to try it! Also, the eternal home of my sunburn expereience.

Venezuala: Ok, we were on an island off of the mainland. It felt like a prison community. It was a 45 minute drive to anywhere but the dock and we didn't even want to try that on foot. Especially since we only had about three hours there total. No wonder Pat Robertson hates them. Nothing to really reccomend it. Till they build a new dock closer to "civilization" (in 2008), I'd avoid it. For all I know it's the most kick-ass island of the trip, but there wasn't enough time and too much distance to go see any of it. Sucks for them.

Curacao: Nice. Very nice. One of the Dutch "A.B.C." islands. They speak a crazy language that blends Dutch, English, Spanish, French, Klingon and Mime. One of the islanders was wearing a shirt that said "Fuck tourists". That kinda felt like their unofficial moto. Along the lines of "give us your money and get the hell-outta-here". Everything but clothing was terribly overpriced. A very cool place to at least visit. Once. Maybe more. Hmmm.

Aruba: Along with Barbados, the only islands I'd like to take an extended stay on. Very pretty. Very well spaced and laid out. Similar to Waikiki in terms of "feel", but with alot less beach access and less upward spread. There were still shacks and dives mixed in with the Gucci and Cartier shops. We found christmas gifts here, along with my first and most likely only Cuban cigar. Which I'll be sampling tonight. (Afternote: Cohibas are all they say they are. I had a nice tequilla, neat, with it. Sat on the deck at night and felt the breeze and the movement of the ship on the waves. Bliss. Especially with Cheryl next to me. Took a walk around the deck to clear our heads and then retired for the night. That's a beautiful memory to me.) Well, I need a break from writing. More as follows 'eh? (Afternote: Nope, that's all I wrote on this trip. I'll probably follow up with a recap of things here soon. I mean, it's only been a couple months since we went on the trip. I'm sure I've still got it in me to tie it up neatly. We'll see.)

2:28pm Nov. 27, 05 Sun.

2006-02-17T09:48:00.000-08:00

Pain! Agony! My first true sunburn! Oh, I always tan. Never before have I had to worry about burning. But yesterday the Barbados sun destroyed my back, shoulders and illusions! I am lobstered and every rush of air across my skin is like being flayed alive. A shower feels as if I am holding my own arm on a lit burner. I have no relief, aloe is good for only a few moments and even then it itches to high heaven. Yes, I know, pain is weakness leaving the body. Well my skin was some cowardly, wimpy skin ok?! And the aloe! Holy crap, it was priced at ten bucks a bottle! What a racket! In Hawaii it was all over waikiki for two bucks a bottle. (Afternote: and we all know if it's gonna cost you money anywhere in the world, it's gonna be in Hawaii...) The ship is out to bleed you dry! I've spent a good part of today scratching my back, as it's the part most likely to itch. This is an experiecnce I would have been happy to have skipped. What benefit I could gain from this is lost on me, but as there is nothing to be done for it, I'll quit my complaining here and now. Today is a sea day, no land in sight from any corner of the ship. We slept in all morning since we had no docking noises to wake us. After very painful showers and aloe sessions we dressed and headed to lunch. I tell myself each day that I'll eat healthierbut I've yet to stick to that. Fried breaded pork chops, beef stroganoff, garlic mashed potatoes, pot roast and ciabatta bread cannot be balanced by the salad I paired them with. Sorry, I'm taking a break to draw a fake tattoo design on my ankle. Be back in a bit or at least sometime today.

11:29am Nov.26, 05 Sat.

2006-02-13T15:15:00.000-08:00

11:29am Nov.26, 05 Sat.

Allright, now this is my idea of a vacation. We are currently aboard a boat in the Carribean sea, off the coast of Barbados. It's free booze hour, so after they ran out of rum punch I grabbed the beer I'm currently drinking. A nice Barbados lager (Banks) suprisingly similar to Session from FullSail (Afternote: most likely similar because I so rarely drink this style of beer and because Session was the last lager I'd had prior to this tasting of Banks...). This is the most relaxing day of the trip so far, we were up at 6:30 as usual, with the ship as it docks. Our cabin is at the front of the boat, level four, on the left side (I still haven't mastered "port" and "starboard"). Whenever we dock we are woken up to the sound of winches and pulleys and engines. It sounds as if we've fallen asleep next to heavy equipment and are in the way. The days we dock at ten instead of seen are great! In any case today we were up at seven, ready for the coffee and pasteries that room service was bringing. Due to a fortuetious turn of fate room service came two minutes after our "alarm" went off. We grabbed juice, coffee, sugar and our bags, then headed off to the dock. After standing in line for ten minutes we made shore. We wandered roughly in the direction of town since there were no signs or indicators as to where our tour would start from. Oh yes, a tour. Most days so far we have hoofed it by ourselves, but today was a special day. Not to take anything away from the rest of our adventures, but today had sea turtles in it! And rum punch, but I digress. Cheryl had said before we left that one thing she wanted to do on our vacation was snorkel. Neither one of us had snorkeled before, so it seemed like a good plan.But today, unlike every other snorkel trip during our cruise, went out to see sea turtles. And that got my webbed toes tingling. So we boarded a bus this morning at 8 am which tool us to the boat we are currently on. I can't tell types of boats from adam, but this one has pontoon thingies and sails. A decent sized ship, with seperate restrooms for each gender. THe first stop was the turtles! Yeah! We got a brief safety bit from our captain, on how to inflate our lifevests and how to breathe properly through the snorkel. Now in Cheryls' case it was an easy thing. She took right to it and snorkeled like a pro. I on the other hand had a harder time of it. I could do it. I did do it. But I've spent so long breathing through my nose that it was almost imposible not to attempt to do so, snorkel or no snorkel. Between musical instruments, relaxation techniques and overall better airflow, breathing through my nose is second nature. I don't think about it, I just do it. So to not breathe through my nose took a mental command and effort. A focus that is hard to keep when you're looking down at three sea turtles less than a foot away from you. All my thoughts are on the sea turtles, not breathing properly. After a few solid attempts I decided I'd have a better time with the snorkel and mask off. I could still see into the water. I could still swim. I could still pet the sea turtles. I could even see them when they surfaced, unlike everyone else. But mostly I could breathe easily and without effort. I enjoyed myself. And that's what it was all about. After the turtles we sailed to some shipwrecks. Cheryl snorkeled again but this time I just swam. I think we both enjoyed ourselves best the way we each did it. For me swiming in the Carribean sea was more calming and fun than anyhting else. When we finshed at the shipwrecks we sailed into shore, about 50 yards off. And that's where we are now, drinking and loving the sun!

5:50pm Nov. 23, 05 Wed.

2005-12-14T14:01:00.000-08:00

5:50pm Nov. 23, 05 Wed.

Currently on deck 9 of the ship, awaiting dinner (at six). A few brief moments to jot down a thought or two. We spent the day at St. Kitts. Well, sort of. I think I should finish our San Juan portion of the trip before I skip ahead to today. Follow me back in time... We arive in San Juan, Puerto Rico at about 3pm local time. We had been unable to complete our ship boarding info packet online, as there was a time limit we did not meet. Part of the boarding info was whether you needed transportation from the airport to the ship. We'd been slightly worried the whole way there that we'd be stuck without a way to the ship (because the taxi drivers didn't know where it was, etc.). We also feared it would cost an arm and two legs if we even found a way to get there. So, we arrive at San Juan airport to sun and warmth and humidity. Being dressed for 40+ degree Portland at our departure did not help us in 90+ degree San Juan. We quickly found bathrooms to de-layer in and splashed cool water on our faces. But, now to dinner. I'll finish up later tonight, I swear. (later) Ah, dinner! Tonight I had roast duck on greens, onion soup, chicken picatta and a choclate mousse. Oh and we shared a bottle of Erath Pinot Noir. A cup of coffee afterwards and now I'm ready for a nap! We are currently in the showroom, listening to a round of bingo being played. There is going to be a swing dance show this evening that we thought we'd check out. (note after the fact: No swing dancing. Swing music, yes. Dancing, yes. Swing Dancing, NO. Let's get it right folks.) It's in the same room as the bingo and we thought we'd get good seats, so here we are, waiting. The speaker is much too loud so I'm a bit distracted in my writting. Also, I've yet to write in here where I've had the use of a table, so this is mostly illegiable. (note after the fact: Um, this is a copy of my travel journal, if you haven't figured it out by now. I'm typing it up post trip, but back dating it to match when I originally wrote it. All words are the same. Just a different medium. Thanks.) And furthermore...nothing. The noise just levelled off. So, back to the San Juan debacle: We get to the luggage claim area unscathed and find our station which was not marked at all. The only way we could determine which station was ours was by looking for familiar passengers from the palne ride. It did help that it was the only station in opperation when we got to the luggage claim. In any case we found both of my bags in short order. Which was fortunate seeing as both bags I have are black and it was a sea of black luggage on the conveyer belt. The bag Cheryl's using is forest green, an uncommon color in this batch of luggage. And as we waited there were only three bags to come down that were forest green. And of course not one of these was Cheryls'. We spent a good twenty five minutes praying that another piece of luggage would come flying down the line and into our hands. Our hope was buoyed by the occasional appearance of a new, previously unseen piece of luggage rolling down the belt. But never were we to see her luggage. Eventually, right before the belt was shut down, a porter from the airline came over and asked me if we'd found all our luggage. Actually he talked at me in spanish and was suprised when I responded back in a confused english. That's been a theme on this trip. The first night at dinner the waiter brought me a menu in French! No one else at our table recieved a french menu. There was an english menu folded up behind the french one, and when I started speaking english the waiter came over and lifted the french version away with a smile and an apology. He knew. I'm not sure if it's my looks or mannerisms or what, but I've been taken for everything but an American. Great for traveling in europe I suppose. Anyhow, getting back to our luggage, after the first porter approached us no one else offered any help. Any abandonded luggage was being loaded and carted away by airline staff but our bag was not among these. We followed said staff to the airlines' service room, praying that they'd have some form of good news for us. And they did, of a sorts. As we walked in our bag was waiting right by the counter. The counter clerk was helping another couple and motioned us to the side to wait. But there was no other side and this couple was between us and our bag. So this couple is blocking the desk and our bag, looking for their bag, our bag is blocking a second door in the back, and we were blocking the main door which in turn blocked the porters behind us and their luggage carts. I finally just reached up and over, grabbed our bag and moved back and out. This freed the porters to get their cart by us, the same cart which had the luggage the couple in front of us was looking for. Everyones problem solved. The short of it is that our last piece of luggage had been seperated from the lot and actually beat us to San Juan by a couple of hours. Happy endings all around! All our luggage found, we next turned to finding our way to the boat. As I said earlier, we'd despaired of finding cheap or reliable transport to the ship. Well, once again, nothing we needed worry about.

12:23pm Nov. 22, 05 Tues.

2005-12-14T13:51:00.000-08:00

12:23pm Nov. 22, 05 Tues.

So, we are sitting on the 5^th level by the coffee shop, looking out the windows at St. Maarten. It's a beautifully clear day, sunny and blue with a relatively calm breeze (if the sail boats outside are any indicator). What we can see of the island from here looks "resort-y" (note after the fact: wrong!) but we have yet to actually go and walk around. That comes next. We left home sunday night for a 9:40pm flight. It was a relatively uneventful flight, no alarms and no suprises. We got into Newark, NJ at about 5:45am (e.s.t.). After finding a bite to eat we walked to our gate, on the very opposite side of the airport, layed out on the floor and slept! A bit about New Jersey: Don't go there! At least not the airport. Every "service person" we met or saw was unbelieveably rude. I've heard my entire life about the lack of civility in NY/NJ, but until now have only half believed it. It's true! Speaking to anyone is an insult, eye contact is reason enough to fight and heaven forbid you actually want some form of service, especially if you're paying for it. You take what you get, when you can get it and you're thankful for it. Or else. If I had any illusions the management cared I'd of said something. But every person at every shop/restaraunt was the same. I don't know, maybe the entire airport is staffed by one large family of rude people. It's a valid theory, seeing as all the staff, one shop to the next, were in the same uniforms. The only break in this was Starbucks, which was an oasis in a desert of apathy. They alone were in standard starbucks outfits. (note after the fact: On the return trip, starbucks was staffed by the same group of trained circus animals we dealt with everywhere else. The barista actually called both drinks wrong and stopped in the middle of our order to grab her birth control pills from her boyfriend. And then got upset at us for making sure we got the drinks we payed for and not the ones she screwed up on because she was too busy talking to her boyfriend. Lovely.) But truely, avoid NJ if at all possible. I did not see one thing to recomend it the entire time we were there. Even the airlin staff were rude. We had a four hour lay over, durring which we napped on the floor by the gate we were departing from. About an hour and a half before departure, I woke up to get us coffee and check our boarding time. When I attempted to ask the woman at the flight desk about our status, she told me she didn't know and to go look for myself. At the display. Which was not near our gate. I did, to my displeasure, and found our flight had been moved. When I went back to confirm this with the flight desk, no one knew and no one would check for me. They just said that if that's what the display said, that's what was. Very helpful eh' ? In any case we dashed to the correct gate which ironically was right next to the gate we had arrived in at. A half hour in line got us safely aboard and headed to San Juan. Once again the flight was uneventful and without incident. Oh, but the adventure was coming. Later...

You can't make this stuff up...

2005-11-16T21:32:00.000-08:00

True story:

Setting: the mall...

Characters: two late-twenties "women"...

Conversation was as follows...

(woman 1) "So I'm totally going to get a Christmas tree this year, but, like, a non-traditional one, like, I saw on the news..."

(woman 2, interrupting) "Oh, a pink one!!!"

(woman 1) "Yeah, exactly!!!"

Thank you...

2005-11-14T20:02:00.000-08:00

Being apart from those you love is painful. Even when it is right and good.
Being obedient can be painful also. Especially because it is right and good.
Being thankful for the pain is right and good, and understanding is a blessing.

Midvale School For The Gifted...

2005-10-25T10:54:00.000-07:00

First Thing in the Morning Observation: I love how my cat will roll in the dirtiest part of the floor in the basement to get my attention, so that I'll come over and pet her. And that the moment I pet her, she rolls away and proceeds to spend the next three hours cleaning herself. Because, you know, my hands are so much dirtier than the cobwebs and spider remnents she was rolling in seconds before. This has been brought to you by half a cup of coffee and this morning.

Lying to maintain the facade...

2005-10-11T09:47:00.000-07:00

Um, my connection to the photo service is skewed, so no photos for you. But I was there! Honestly! When I get back, it'll be photo-palooza. Yeah...lots and lots of photos. Something, something...

Ultra Super Awesome Bad...

2005-10-11T08:41:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official. By the time you're reading this, we should be on a plane for Hawaii. Sucka! The joyus wedding of Lindsay (used to be) Hogue is as good of a reason as any to go to the isles. I figured, what the heck, let's let the folks at home see a couple pictures from the last time I was there. Not to rub it in or anything. In all seriousness, it's a good reason to go, and I'm excited to have the chance to do so. We'll be enjoying ourselves, and wish everyone could be here too. Just, not with us, cause our room isn't that big and we need a vacation. Alone. Yeah, that's the stuff. Pictures after the break... (if you don't see them, you're on the other blog...flip it and they'll be there)

What have you done for me lately...

2005-10-04T12:06:00.000-07:00

Oh my...where to begin. Let's see, I just swapped out the power supply on my computer 'cause I fried the old one when I didn't seat the connector properly onto the floppy drive (who needs a floppy drive anymore anyway...). Smoke and melted wires...I thought I might have fried other more delicate and vital components, but God was on my side or at least He saved me from myself. I had to kill the breaker, and wait for all the smoke to dissapate before I could see that everything looked (almost) ok. Waited a little while to fiddle with it, couldn't salvage the power supply, no matter what I tried. Luckily I had a backup from my father inlaw. Presto chango, it's alive! Upside is that my computer is functional and operational. The down side is that I have less power connections on my back up power supply, so a good half of my case components are currently idle and just sitting there sadly, waiting to be revived. I think a new, shiny power supply with a kilowatt of power (oh yeah!) might be in the cards. We'll see. Hmmm, so much to say mere moments ago, now...nothin. Alright, the bathroom is completely wired and functional, the fan and lights all perform to spec. I priced those pre-formed surrounds for my shower/tub and found out it's cheaper to tile the whole thing. So we should have a pretty spiffy shower soon. Of course it's not any sort of standard size, so we'll have to get the sliding door custom built. Balls. But it's coming along. I started tearing into the kitchen cabinetry, cutting out a space for the new dishwasher. All was well till my jigsaws battery gave out, so it's on the charger and the project's on the backburner. A good third of the new insullation is layed in the attic, we haven't noticed a big difference yet, but it's just now getting nippy out so we don't have a good indicator on it's effectiveness yet. My dad helped me (finally!) get my bicycle in road-worthy shape; I'm preparing to melt my legs into puddles and put some miles on the thing. Of course I wait till it's raining to do so, but hey, that's me. A friend who rides each and every day reccomended a helmet to me that I plan on getting tomorrow. Then I'll be preparred for the urban challenge that is. Ok, what else...I'm totally hooked on a new puzzle in the paper, Sudoku. It's mental crack, and I'm doing it whenever I get my hands on it. Fun! Cheryl built a cute little retaining wall around our rose bushes out of reclaimed bricks, going down two sides of the house. It looks old cottage-ish and way too nice for us. Um, we're going to Hawaii in a week, a friend's getting married and Cheryl really wanted to go, so there you are. Looks to be way too much fun, and I am totally ready for a break. A week of sun and beach can't be too awful now. Cheryl's never been, so it ought to be exciting. I don't really have any other news, I'm racking my brain but those seem to be the main points of interest. I lose interest quickly, so I load alot of detail upfront and trail off at the end as I'm sure you're noticing. Quick album recomendations: Project 86 has a new one out, I'm gonna snag it tomorrow. Silver and Gold from Starflyer 59 have been remastered and rereleased, pick them up now! Jeremy Enigk is working on a new solo album...All Hail the Frog Queen! Also, Facedown Records has good heavy stuff, so they're worth a listen. Oh, lastly, I'm dual-publishing this on my myspace, so if you don't get this here, you might get it there. Unless you're there, and then you're getting it here. Not there. But it's here first. Tah!

This is the story told without words...

2005-09-14T02:01:00.000-07:00

Kung Fu. That being out of the way, here goes another quick and dirty installment of "what the heck is up...".

A) Um, not that much... Still wiring the house, an inspector comes today to inspect and stuff, so wish us luck. The bathroom door is almost finished, just a couple of coats of stain to go. Shuffled furniture, made the basement computer area even more "practical" and moved Her cute little desk upstairs, mostly for the heck of it. We booked our late honeymoon finally (the original was canceled due to the hurricanes in Flordia last year...wonder how this years going...oh, yeah, right...crap...). At least this time it's starting in Puerto Rico and not Miami. And it's two weeks on the boat, with a butt-load of island stops. Upgrade city. Hopefully going to Hawaii at the mid-end of october for a friends wedding, always looking for a good reason to travel. When we get back it'll be back to school for me and soul search time for her (as jobs and life get ruminated upon). Still planning on our europe jaunt next summer, London and (?) (in) Sweeden, plus any other places we can hit. Friends we haven't seen (or emailed, sorry!!!) in way too long are over "there", and we are comin like a freight train suckas! On the home front, friends are moving, relatives are hitched, children have been birthed and in general, people are liveing lives that are meaningfull and totally not revolving around us. Imagine that! Chuck is gone (but not forever, we'll see you...), He-who-is-never-named is back at school, my brother is back at school, Izztechstacular might be headed out of state and as for everbody else it's all up in the air. Yeah.

2) Just needed a paragraph break for asthetic reasons. Sorry. Well, I could go on about new music, or current myspace obsessions, or garage projects, or bridal showers, or bad gas mileage and a million other things. Heck, Aaron has a nice new girlfriend, Will got a new (old) job, I'm finally reading the new Harry Potter book...! A billion stories, a million smiles. What's important is that you're here reading and I'm here writting and that I get that swelled sense of satisfaction from it all. Wait, that's not it. I'll be back with actual writting and not just photos real sson and we'll all have a real swell time. Love 'ya...

Me.

C'mon, Grandma's gonna be lookin at this...

2005-09-14T01:58:00.000-07:00

I'm on a total photo kick lately. But, I mean, how can you not be when you're so madly in love with a girl like this?! My wife, my best friend, my lover... I am so damn lucky! This is embodied proof of intelligent design, us being here and now. At least till our next arguement, and then I'm an idiot. Well, at least wrong. I'm usually wrong, even when I'm not. But you know what... it's cool. If being with her means that I have to always be wrong, it'd be worth it. So there!

Planted...

2005-08-31T13:39:00.000-07:00

I don't always sleep in my boots. Heck, I even wear shoes and sandals sometimes. But my boots are a security blanket of sorts. There is no hill I can't climb, no trail I can't follow, no ass I can't kick when I'm wearing a pair of solid, well made boots.

Photoshop not included...

2005-08-30T18:00:00.000-07:00

It being my first anniversary and all, I get a wee bit sentimental. We didn't get much time to celebrate yesterday, and today isn't much better. But I'm thankfull for every minute I get to spend with this woman. And no amount of my clever words or verbal skill will ever begin to convey just how deeply I've fallen for her. But she knows that. And she still lets me try to say it anyway. *Sigh*...

Looks a lot like...

2005-08-29T14:30:00.000-07:00

Happy first anniversary, my beautiful wife. It may only have been a year, but it will always be a lifetime with you. I love you, you know.

For the love of this country...

2005-08-06T19:21:00.000-07:00

Well, another saturday has come and almost gone. I accomplished jack squat, and as usual had a million things I could of done. I just lacked sufficent motivation for anything too productive , so I feel I'm on par for the day. I bought some groceries. Got new cables for my bicycle. Bought materials for a couple projects at the Home Despot (salute, about face...). Built a riser for the computer monitor. That was enough. So I didn't clean out the garage, or the basement, or do the dishes, or finish wiring the bathroom. Big whoop. It's my day off. I didn't re-do the brake lines on the bike, or add ram to the computer, or build the laudry area shelf, or install the software for the new scanner. Oh well. I'm content. It's not everyday that I can be worn out and not have to still bust ass. So today, in the spirit of great americans throughout history, I did it all half assed. Look, I'm even too indifferent to use an exclamtion mark in this. See, no exclamation marks. My wife's away, my friends are gone, the house is cool and I have beer. What more do I need. Oh yeah, I've got to iron a shirt and my wifes dress for a birthday party tonight. Curses. Almost used an exclamation point there. Eh, no big. Off I go to slack through another couple hours of nothingness. Bliss...

Shame and scandal...

2005-08-06T19:16:00.000-07:00

Ok, so they're not related but I can't help feeling like they are brother and sister. And judging by this picture their family is from the backwoods of Alabama. Thank God I had them fixed! Yee-haw!

Gin and Robin...

2005-08-06T19:14:00.000-07:00

Who doesn't like cats? Freaks...

Always three dots...

2005-08-01T13:21:00.000-07:00

Current music kick: (no point, just an open page and a few minutes before work...)

Haste the Day / When Everything Falls

John Hiatt / Master of Disaster

Pony Express / Becoming What You Hate

L Mix R / Demos from http://myspace.com/lmixr

The Fire Theft / The Fire Theft

and some bands I am currently loving and about to go buy cd's from:

Sterophonics...because of the song "Dakota"

The Clergy..."All who Fly"

ok, now go listen...

Akwardness...

2005-07-21T13:24:00.000-07:00

So, I've never been adept at ritualistic male greetings involving contact. I can wave, grunt, shrug and salute with the best of them, but if I need to actually touch the person all bets are off. A high five is a very simple concept, involving a hand (five fingers) and the shoulder height slapping of hands (the 'high' portion). Now though, people don't just 'high five'. No, it involves slapping, punching, slidding and a good bit of breakdance thrown in for good measure. If there was a set pattern, even one that alternated on odd days or changed by the phase of the moon, I might be willing to make an effort to learn and repeat the ritual. But there is no pattern! Every guy has his very own "slap, punch, slide' combo which I can't keep track of. No matter how well I know the guy, I always come off as the country cousin who stared at the sun for an hour too many a couple years ago. My timing is always off, I slap when I should punch, and heck, half the time I'm using the wrong hand and fail to even make contact! And don't even get me started on hugging. I always wind up arms around some guys neck, or with his cheek on my head! I avoid hugging other men like quakers avoid the draft! There's an intrinsic urge to avoid contact of a physical nature with men that is present in all men. Some learn to accept this while others look to create a go-around. Hence the violence usually associated with physical greetings. And I'm sure this is mostly an American thing, judging by how many other nations and cultures offer up a cheek for the smooching at the drop of a hat. Can you imagine American guys kissing each other? Good grief, there'd be blood and scars and mouth guards! An entire industry would emerge to equip men with the 'protection' they needed to kiss each other and remain unscathed. Depending on which state you lived in, tounge may or may not be acceptable. Everyone would have a bottle of mouthwash around their neck, on one of those ubiquitous key lanyards from their favorite radio station. So, all of this is really just a drawn out way of saying thank you to my friends. The good ones. The ones with whom I have an understanding. These are the people who I will nod to and occasionally give a firm handshake to. Nothing more is needed. I appreciate this. You're good people.

Going about the business...

2005-07-12T10:34:00.000-07:00

Well I'm off to the great unknown. I am prepearing to spend the rest of the day in the deq drive though hell. I am armed with impatience and a small bladder, supplemented only by coffee and raging indifference. Sure, I work today. Sure, I've got better things to do. What's important is that my tags are expired. And I really don't need to be pulled over. So, I go to face down "the man". This isn't the usual "the man", no he's on hiatus. This is like his little brother playing with his stuff till he gets home and beats him for it. "The Man - Lite". But fragging annoying in any case. Meh, I just like to bitch. In great news, my entire living room is re-wired. All new wire, all new outlets, new switches, junctions and routing. Now, I intall a couple cat-5/coax combo units and the room is done! Yeah sucka! Oh, and my home despot gift cards have arrived. New hedge trimmer here I come. Actually I'm more excited about the skill saw I'm getting, but the hedge trimmer is more practical. But screw practical, give me revs and manliness any day. Well, things don't happen on their own, unless they do. I'm going and gone to get this done. See you in line...

2005-07-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Spend a day in line at the DEQ station. See the world.

Yes, this is my car.

No, it doesn't look like this anymore.

This was taken literally fifteen hours after I bought the thing. My neighbor liked it better this way apparently. It's all worked out now, and the guy was really cool about it. What a way to meet your neighbors though.

Future Wiring of America...

2005-07-11T12:56:00.000-07:00

That's what I'm talking about folks...tasty. Well, maybe I'll write instead of posting trophy photos. Nah. I've got a better idea. Let's go to work instead. Oh yeah...

Can you see what I see...

2005-07-11T12:54:00.000-07:00

Exposed junction boxes, exposed wiring, knob and tube hell...!

Shocking...or not...

2005-07-11T12:53:00.000-07:00

This is part two...how nasty and wrong does it get? Oh, it gets pretty bad...

From a distance...

2005-07-11T12:52:00.000-07:00

And again...

Softness, goodness, wired by...

2005-07-11T12:51:00.000-07:00

This is the reason...right here...why I have refrained from blogging...but part one is done! All hail! My living room is wired and ready to go! Onto the kitchen!

From a distance...

2005-07-11T12:47:00.000-07:00

And again...

Repetitive motion inqury, or, How I hurt myself...

2005-07-11T12:45:00.000-07:00

And this, I tell you, is why I have not updated my blog in a long, long time...! Wiring made easy...
(unrelated: I always delete the little "hello" dongle over to the right. My hate of free advertising. This time it can stay though.)

Part 2...

2005-06-24T11:59:00.000-07:00

Quick and dirty update time, no nutritional value, just empty calories here...

My transfer was (so far) temporary with the posibility of recall in time of dire need. I'm back among the ones I know and tolerate (love), and I think, better off for the experience. Shocking but true. I enjoyed the diversity of peoples I worked in and among during my brief transfer stint. There's alot to be said for perspective, however it's gained. I've got enough for now though, so please, no more.

I'm happy with the new Batman movie. That's all that needs saying. Flaws, sure. Good, yes. I'm happy. If you have problems with it, wait until the sequel, and then if the flaws are magnified, you can begin the bitching and moaning. Oh, and because of my Katie Holmes infatuation (lessened by the whole dreadful Tom Cruise thing) my wife made me close my eyes when her breasts were coming into their own glory (a wonderful outdoors scene and a brief passed out on the "altar" scene). She is quite lovely to behold. And if she is in the sequel, I'll seriously consider boycotting it. Ok, she's my only complaint. Hot, but worthless to the story. Not even that great of an acting job with the crap she had to work with. Allright, I'm through, I'm through.

My good friend made it back from school in a couple pieces. I've heard the stories of coming up I-5 going 45mph the whole way, with a 70's four-banger loaded beyond its capacities. Being in the right lane the entire way, slowing way down for corners. The shame and humor mingling togther to create an even stronger desire to get home and drink. So far we've started rewiring my attic, gotten lumber for a new laundry room shelf and have picked up desks for an upcoming project. I love having help that can help. Oh yeah, he also brought me the gift of my first half rack of Session beer from Full Sail. It's decent. Drinkable. Sorta trendy but screw it, I'll drink it anyway. If only a regular grocery store carried it. I hate going into a natural foods store to by cheap trendy beer. I almost feel like the poseur everyone assumes I am.

So, I got more, but it's time isn't here yet. Call this part two (?) if only because it will post below what will become part one. I'll return with the rest, soon. Sooner than not. Sometime...

i·ro·ny...

2005-06-10T00:12:00.000-07:00

I just found out today that I'm being transferred from my job to a new location. New managers, new co-workers, new parking spaces and break room. So much for my ode to transition in other peoples lives. Could it be any more fitting? I haven't been told if this is a temporary move or a permanent one, but I have a former co-worker at this new location who has been "on loan" for a month or so now. My boss didn't even have the balls to tell me face to face! No, he waited till he was sneaking out the door to call me and tell me. No discussion, no asking, just a cold and quick "here's how it is", done over the phone. I'm sure I'll be fine however it turns out, but damn it all! I have stayed at my current location because of my relationships with the customers and the community. I've got plenty of reasons to leave due mostly to the managements business acumen. There is no step up at my current location, but that's a price I willingly paid for the loyalty of my customers. I traded promotion for job security and customer relationships, but hey, that's gone too! Having it all just stripped away in an impersonal and uncertain way is wrong on so many levels. I don't begrudge my boss his right to make this decision, just his approach in doing so. He didn't consider anyones opinions or feelings but his own. Fantastic management style I must say! Maybe that's why he's looking at early retirement 'eh?! Not to be too full of myself, but I've got personal relationships with enough customers that I could raise pure hell if I wanted. Transfer all of his business away and then we'll see how things stand. No, I know I don't have that much pull, but I could get a chunk of them if I tried! This is just me talking, I'm too full of steam to plan a proper strategy right now. If my transfer stands as a permanent move, well, then the gloves come off. I've got all sorts of crazy ideas and I'm too young to care about consequences. OSHA, lawyers and protesters oh my! I can fabricate enough evidence and bad press to take the whole place down! Once again, me talking out of my ass. I'm just not that kind of guy, but sometimes I wish I was. I only go up against true tyranny and oppression, not crappy bosses and lousy business decisions. And Canada. When they attack, in the middle of the night...I'm ready baby, I'm the home guard. So, here I bitch and moan about the inevitible transition my life now faces. I go forth unwillingly and with a sour disposition, to a new experience and reality. Change sucks. But only for a little while, then it becomes the constant and I can begin fearing the next change. * LEVEL UP*...

Remembering what will be...

2005-06-08T18:27:00.000-07:00

Transitional periods are really sorta scarry 'ya know. The time that comes before the doing, where coming and going hasn't happened and what will happen is up in the air. I don't avoid transition, it's the natural progression and all, I just don't go rushing into it with open arms. I'm leary of the new as much as I'm excited by the endless possibilites it presents. I handle it akwardly enough, seeking to prolong the period of transition when the prolonging is itself what I'm really trying to avoid. For instance, I got my new phone today, it's fantastic. I love the newness, the fact that it actually works and all the learning that I've go to do in order to operate it. Yet part of me knows I'll miss the old one, regardless of how much crap I've suffered through with it. It took a bit before I switched out the chips and powered the new phone on. Even now, the old one sits on the table, ready to (not) work. I pass by it with a mixture of relief and sorrow. I wanted this new one and I am ready to move on, but the whole transition sorta makes me uncomfortable. It's an ending within a new begining. A goodbye disguised as a hello. A loss that results in a greater fullfillment. I know all this and yet I still have an ingrained aversion to it. And this is only a cell phone. Imagine me after a break-up or a death. I just don't like endings. I prefer for things to run parallell to one another, not begining to end with each other. But that's how life is, a giant trade off. Adulthood in place of childhood, marriage in place of dating, father in place of son. I'm always content afterwards, when the transition has run its course. That period though, man it's tough.
Two of my good friends find themselves in that transitioning position right now and I'm just really gratefull that I am not there myself. I'll be the rooted stable one for now. One of them is nearing the end of a rental term, after which the house he lives in is being sold. At the same time that he's being evicted he is ending his last month of state-mandated relocation prohibitation (probation in laymans terms...). He's got friends living out of state he'd love to visit and it just seems to be too much of a coincindence that everything works togther time-wise like this. He's looking to move (somewhere) in a month, and his life has become one big ball of transition. Paperwork, deadlines, jobs and housing all at once. When it all sorts out it will be completely new and completely different. And he'll be glad to be there (I hope...), and glad he's settled. Now though, he's all nerves and questions and rightfully so. Good luck Uncle Z nutts, you can't quit now. I'll always rep you though.
My other friend is finishing his year at school, looking to come back home for the summer. He needs to find a job, needs a place to stay, needs a bit of release from the usual answers to those problems. The old highschool job is tough to go back to year after year. But paying for tuition is an even tougher task, one that doesn't care where the funds come from. And staying with mom and dad one more summer is difficult when independence is a lifestyle and not a privilage. He is trying to bridge that gap between dependent and independent, and that is its very own can of worms. We've all either been there or will be there. It's dang tough boy, but you'll suck it up and plow through. You always do.
So, here I am feeling out of sorts, observing the transitions in others and not in myself. I'm just as powerless in other peoples lifes as I am in my own and I'd just screw things up if I could anyway. There's no big mystery being unravelled here, no profound summation of hidden workings. I'm just worried about my friends and sitting in empathy with them. I'll be right here for them, as long as they let me, or until my next transition moves me away...

Warm spoon...

2005-06-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

Zippee-de-do-dah...I'm getting a new cell phone! That's right suckas, a brand spankin new phone, in all its "newness" glory! I've had the same old handset for about twelve eons or so, and am becoming more and more frustrated by it daily. It gives the cell phone version of the blue-screen-of-death every time you shut it. Clam-shell corpse of a phone. You have to power off, then hold it almost shut while powering back on in order to bring back any functionality. And when it "dies", it still may work but you're never sure. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't. Good luck trying to figure it out, it's a total crap shoot either way. The only hope is to turn it off, then on...every shinning time! This is the second time this model has gone belly up on me, I sent it back once but now I'd get a crappy replacement in it's place. Its' life cycle has come and gone. So, tough decision, I either get the el-crapo replacement or pony up for a new and improved million dollar wonder-phone. Features I won''t use, functions that won't work, wrapped in styling and form straight outta the 1970's! All the phones my service provider has for purchase are just stupid. Where are the cool tiny phones, or the non-antenna phones? All the nifty ones are available from the same service provider in every other country, just not in the US of A. How ass-backwards! I guess America is too small of a market to warrant current product marketing, or innovative products. We must be screaming for old, tired leftovers that no one else in the world seems to want. Seems about right. Well, I said "balls" to that, emailed a querry about the lousy product line to my carrier (they promise to reply to your questions in 24 hrs...it's been about two weeks and counting...) and then went searching. Took a few days, found a couple decent handsets, priced them out and was totally depressed. To get a good phone (read: import...) it would cost me upwards of three hundred US. I'm just not willing to drop that much, no matter how cool or practical the phone is. I saddly decided to find a cool "old" phone, one that wasn't current but seemed to have a good long shelf life. If it was a decent form factor, user friendly, and prone to working for long periods of time I'll give it a shot. My cousin has a sony-ericsson T616, and has had it forever. He swears by it, functionality and reliability being his formost concerns. I thought "well, if I can find one-a-them thar phones, dang-gum it, I'd be a might happier than I'm'a feelin right now...uh huh...". As I was searching for a new-old T616, I checked out sony-ericssons website and found all sorts of cool phones. In particular, the T630 (in liquid black...drool...). And wouldn't you know it, with a bit of searching I found one on ebay that worked with my provider. For the same amount as I'd pay for a new phone from my provider. That decision took all of two seconds, as I rushed to fork over my money on paypal. Well, I did ask my wife first, but ya know. That leads to me sitting here right now typing, with one window on PvP and a tab for fedex's package tracker. I'm reading the archives of a completey funny cartoon and obsessively checking to see if my package is on its way to my house. I should be cleaning the garage or doing dishes, but I'm fantasisng about the new toy I'm about to get. Allright! The package is on the truck for delivery. Well, maybe I will go clean the garage, it's closer to the door than the computer is!

Predisposable...

2005-06-03T23:43:00.000-07:00

I'm becoming more and more aware of how often I interrupt other people when they're talking. I tend to listen to what someone else is saying only long enough to begin my own monologe. When someone is relating a story or experience I'm usually formulating my own "related" story that's obviously more important because, well, it's my story. I'm a self absorbed ass. It's not that I think I'm that important, it's just that I feel my experiences and stories are so unique and individual. They're not. Really. I know this, but I'm pretty set in my ways and it's darn difficult to break the habit. I'll sometimes notice that I'm waiting for a break in someone elses' narative so I can speak. I haven't even really been listening, I'm actually counting breaths so that I can interrupt when they pause to breathe. I really don't have a superiority complex, I don't secretly despise people. I just am so caught up in my life sometimes that it's hard not to want to tell everyone and make it the center of every conversation. I only focus when I'm really interested, and I never wait to see if I'm interested when someone else talks. Plus, I know I'm interested in myself, so...there you go.

In the land of imaginary friends, my wonder twin power this week is... Ok, so, I just recently found out that someone I consider a friend is still alive and supposedly well, and not, I repeat not dead in a gutter somewhere in L.A. (because all crime originates from L.A.). She dissapeared off the radar a couple months back, but she has been sighted and is well, and I'm a little tiny bit less concerned now. But if you want to come over and have a beer, Claire, just call. You can't always flake out, can you? People were (are) concerened for you, so quit the whole "need my space, gotta get my head on straight, I'm a pompus self-absorbed ass..." thing and make contact, ok?!!! Sheesh, kids! Plus, we all know who the pompus ass is here, don't we. In other news, I'm not going to the zoo tomorrow. That will dissapoint a couple otters, a marmot, two penguins, a hyenna and Aaron, but not the lemurs or the Giraffes. The giraffes are balls anyway. Sorry Aaron, my union doesn't cover personal zoo days. But it should. Everyone should feel free to contact my union and demand that workers recieve a minimum of three personal zoo days per year. It's what's best for the country. Links galore! Well, till next rant...

Reality keeps intruding...

2005-05-31T13:39:00.000-07:00

Well, episode three isn't any better the second time. It isn't bad, no, I'm quite admant about its not sucking. I just hoped I'd discover levels of insight or deeper meaning tucked in with all the crappy Anakin-Padmae scenes. Would it have killed Lucas to make episodes one and two a single movie and have given us either a back story or more Vader? Maybe an episode one that set up the millennia long war of attrition between Jedi and Sith? Some freaking back story? Or, a whole episode of Vader just going gangbusters on Jedi s? How cool would that be! We (book and comic reading geeks...) know that there were Jedi who survived Vaders' trophy hunting. Why not a whole episode about that, one where Vader really becomes willingly evil, not just 'I'm-a-confused-teenager-evil'? Also (sort of a spoiler, but come on...) who really thinks Obi-wan wouldn't of lightsabered Vader right through the eye-socket? He would of taken him out. For sure. Alright, enough bitching about what could have been. It was do or do not, and Lucas wasn't even trying. Just don't look back in anger...Ok, yeah, I'm listening to Oasis right now. It's on the internet radio station I'm grooving to while I type. Sorta fitting and all, plus, I'm just a big hack. Well folks, back to my memorial day sponsored three day weekend. Retrofitted an attic ladder in the garage yesterday, bought another billion feet of insulation. Was up till three in the morning aligning hinges and trying to attach springs. That's my salute to American resolve. On a rare but serious note, it was sorta tough to watch nightline last night and see all the people who have died in the Iraq war. I have a cousin and uncle that both made it back from Iraq mostly whole. Outside of their eyes they look the same. I'm lucky that they came back, and that I wasn't watching for their faces on the show. I was watching for one guy I knew from my high school band, and while we weren't that close, it still hit hard. Watching all the faces go past and to feel a generational attachment form was odd. I must be getting old, because some of those kids looked like kids. Whether you're from the "lies-lies-unjust-war-of-aggression-by-imperialistic-baby-killing-cowards" party or the "doing-their-duty-one-hundred-times-more-people-that-age-die-in-car-crashes-each-year- than-in-the-entire-war-respect-their-sacrifice" camp, you can't be blase about the deaths of Americans, however they died. Heck, forget Americans, any death can't be treated indifferently. Justified or not a death is an outcome that represents failure. Somewhere, sometime, somehow either the person who died or the person who killed that person failed and brought about the death. And in either case their is a victim, due to that failure. People don't die without consequence. There may be righteousness to the death, on either side, but there is no death that does not affect. I watched as long as I could, then went back to work on my ladder. Onwards, upwards, and always in circles. To Staff Sgt. David Weisenburg, and his family: memorial day is a bit different for me now. I'm truly sorry, and truly grateful. It was a pleasure to know him when I did.

Wanna buy a short sword +3...

2005-05-27T09:17:00.000-07:00

I played neverwinter nights for about four hours last night, didn't even blink once. I had no clue where I was or how much time I'd spent playing. Family members were but vauge memories of the time that came before my half-orc paladin aqquired baldurs armor and smote evilness with my acid dripping sword. I've never done the whole "rpg" thing, but I'm sure making up for it now! I'd never thought I'd enjoy this type of game. I'd even mocked the "poor souls" who sold xp on ebay and had clan meetings online (well, I still do, that's just nerdy...). Silly thing is, I read a ton of books and rpg's typically are more story based than any other type of game (with a few minor exceptions...). Heck, they call the levels "chapters", which should have been a huge tip off for me. I enjoy the story as much or more than I do wipping the floor with the nasty critters which abound in video games. I love the progression and the deliberate pacing. It's almost like those choose your own story books from when I was a kid. Except I hated those things. I always had my fingers in about six different pages, because I wanted the best ending and I wanted to read all the stories. Now, if I miss a cool plot twist, I just create an uber-level cheat character and replay the chapter quickly. Oh yeah, that's the stuff. I'm six years old all over again.

Public reserve...

2005-05-25T23:16:00.000-07:00

So, I'm about fed up with bloggers interface. I've lost numerous posts on multiple computers due to glitches in their editing software. If I try to edit the html, all my previously inputed material in 'compose tab' may or may not disapear. If I change the font, words, at random, disapear from the post. Inserted spaces will move and entire paragraphs are sucked into the black whole that is bloggers' 'create post' page. How freaking annoying to spend an hour or so editing your own work just to see it turn into nothingness. I'm not worried about some loss of social impact or lessened grandeur, I just don't have enough spare time to blow on an hour of vapor posting. Maybe there is a niche where people purposely create beautifully moving posts, carefully linked and pictured, only to erase them as a form of personal growth and self enlightenment. Whatever. From now on, I will write my posts in o.office (yeah suckers!), and paste to bloggers crappy post page. Oh yeah, I can't get the spell check to work either. But that's my fault I'm pretty sure. It's a love-hate relationship here. In other rambling, I got my computers wiring re-routed and all my systems are functioning, so maybe I'll post a bit more often. That, and I won't be so hesitant because I might lose a post. I had a really time sensitive post become ghost text and it will never see the light of day, even though it was about one of the best things in life (star wars). But maybe now the brain leechings will occur more frequently. That's something to worry about eh? Toodles...

Three steps to a better me...

2005-05-18T09:27:00.000-07:00

Quick and dirty folks: The picture link to walmart sucks is too small to make out. Sorry. It's a play on words you see. Ha. My color scheme is pathetic. Um, yes, I know that firefox and ie are not operating systems. I merely was commenting on my desire to stay native in windows and the lack of a good alternative browser in the windows domain. Opera doesn't do it for me. Not awful though. That's all for now kiddies, I'm off to see the wizard or at least the guy who pays me. Oh yeah, new link coming soon, see it HERE first! Tah!

The Lack Thereof...

2005-05-17T22:01:00.000-07:00

Walmart is the Devil!!! They Suck!!! Sorry, had to get that out of my system. So, this is just a quick quip to explain my links and what they mean to me.

Let's see, Stone Brewing: the goodness never stops with these guys! I first met them about four years ago and it's been a long term commitment for me. The original wonder came from their Arrogant Bastard Ale, which has never let me down. When I found it on tap, oh my! The have increased the goodness over the years with Double Bastard Ale and their Vertical Epic Ale (which just was released a bit ago and might still linger in shops for a day or two...). All Stone beers are goodness in a bottle. Stones' beers are ones I can share with friends without fear of scorn, even though they're non-Oregon made beers. They're Oregonians in spirit my friends, they are in spirit.

MotoCzysz, my wet dream of choice, whither art thou 'o steel and carbon fiber mount? I want one of these like Starwars fans want a real lightsaber (yeah, I want one of those too...). I don't even have a (working) motorcycle, though my wife promises I can have one sooner rather than later. This is way too much bike for me, but it's a Portland bred bike, and wicked cool! The new Nortons, even being Portland based, are a distant second, since this bike is a scratch built wonder from the heir of Britten. Maybe in the future, instead of a mid life crisis I can have one of these.

Emesis Basin Paulson is the genius of Mr. Andrew Paulson. He put me in the 'credit-thanks' section of one of his cd's. He loves orcas, computers, his wife and sea captains. But not in that order. In fact order may not apply here. Check in on this one often kids, it's in a constant flux. This is one big safety belt violation in the making! Brilliance is birthed here, and often.

12 oz Prophet is a good mind adjuster for the "art means___" crowd. If art has to mean something specific to be art, than this site cannot exisit and by trying to view it the world and universe would cease to be. It is what it is. Form and function have no set pattern here. It's just so viscious, to impose yourself on art. Beg for forgiveness, then go and whine no more.

Buiness Reply Mail is sorta self explainatory. Submit or die by the sword! That is, submit your best stuff to these guys and gals. Scuttlebutt is of a coffee table book in the making. You know you wish you'd thought of this first. Actually, we* used to do this all the time, back when. We* just never documented or spent time on it. It was all quick wit and bluster. This is the real deal! (we*: me and my...friends? Yeah, I got a few...)

Last but not least, there is firefox. Um, Firefox! Yeah, see, I.E. crashes way too much and I'm just not enough of a non-conformist to go to linux or unix or one of those other os's. I'm a lazy American, and firefox hits all the right spots for me. Ease of use, check. Vocal and rabid support, check. No new crap to learn, check. Free, check. It's the best thing since sliced cheese. Not a huge advancement over regular cheese but a big time and effort saver. That's all it takes for me, and I'll up 'em till something better pops up.

Make sure to bug Aaron about his lack of a webpage for me to link(see post below...), and stay tunned for more excitement! Who will I link up next? Microtech Knifes? The 'OpenOffice' project? PvP?
You'll just have to come back and see. Oh I am so self-important!

2005-05-17T21:37:00.000-07:00

Why Doesn't Aaron have a website? (#1)

2005-05-17T21:36:00.001-07:00

Why Doesn't Aaron have a website? (#2)

2005-05-17T21:36:00.000-07:00

Why doesn't Aaron have a website? So, I wanted to pimp some cool stuff, show off a few friends, explain why I'm linked to the links I'm linked to. And this punk here doesn't have a website. Sure, he says his stuff is on other peoples sites. Big whoop. Get your own freakin site or go home! Aarons' stuff is good folks, and there's music. Music! I mean, c'mon! He's a talented media-designer- artist something or other. Doesn't everyone think he should have his own showcase for his work? Isn't it just sad that he doesn't? Won't you all write him at europacontact@hotmail.com and tell him so? (Side note to Aaron: No one reads this... you're safe...) He's got dvd's that he'll hand out, he needs a website. How else will his glory be enhanced? Trying for the guilt thing here. Hey, with a website he could get more work and buy that juicer he wants (that was from the 'carrot-stick' school of motivation...). Ok, enough with the bitchin, on to the promo's. Ironically, that will come before this post, although it will be posted after this one, but you'll see that one first, but this one was first, and... Ok, that was just dumb. Forwards not backwards, up not down and always in circles!

SO pissed right now...

2005-05-16T00:05:00.000-07:00

My keyboard sucks, my computer froze (too many tabbed windows) and I lost a post in progress. I was saying "Happy Birthday" to Daniel, and recounting the story of his birthday present. Not a damn person gets to read it now, because I am not retyping and relinking all of it again. Sorry. This dissapoints all of two people, I know, but it hurts me all the same to say it. Where the hell is the quick save button on my "create" page? I just spent a buttload of time hunting down the proper pictures and getting the feng shui all harmonized. I had to retype most of it anyway, because in addition to the spacebar being spotty I'm getting miskeys where "n" becomes "b" and it's all a bit too much right now. Maybe tomorrow morning I'll do it all proper, but for now:
Happy Birthday Daniel. Sixteen is weird times. You'll be fine, I'm positive of it. Later.

It was a really funny story, I swear...

2005-05-12T22:26:00.000-07:00

I saw a guy I used to be pretty good friends with today. He just got back from riding his bike across Thailand and part of Vietnam. He has always been the "free-spirit" illustration in my lifes' personal encyclopedia. This was just the latest in a series of instances where he just goes and "does". Travel, adventure and restlessness seem to have come prepackaged and sorted in him. Mind you he's an extremely intelligent, laid back guy in a paranoid sorta way. He's either the first or dead last to catch on, being a bright but all together distracted kinda fellow. I'm at a loss for classifying him, being as he's amazingly unique and awesome in and of himself. Be that as is, I had remembered shortly after seeing him a story involving us and two of our friends. One of those story's from way back that really needs to be archived and preserved for the eventuality of my having kids. A jaw dropping "No you didn't...?!" story that honest to God happened and which as of half an hour ago I cannot remember to save my life. So there you have it. It's an unforgettable story (ironically...) so if I ever do remember it, it will make its' way here. If not, trust me, it was a really funny story. Really.

Nothing says mothers day like a robot costume...

2005-05-11T14:31:00.000-07:00

Maybe I'm a few days late to ramble on about mothers day. How grumpy everyone was on that holiest of days. Ok, so I usually do a pretty crappy job of remembering my mothers "day", as well as her anniversary, birthday and how much she hates run on sentences. I'm a self-absorbed son. Well, I got a card this year. On my own. No reminders from anyone. My wife bought chocolates. We make a good team, each doing half the work and getting the job done. That's why we got married, so we each can do a half assed job all the time now. Equal division of labor rocks! Anyway, I squeaked by in the "remembering" category this year (so far...) and actually saw mom on mothers day. Two for two. Everyone I ran into on mothers day was pretty miffed though. As in, (actual conversation here...) "Yeah, she wants to make dinner for me and my wife. That's why I'm shopping 'sigh'. Sure am glad to be here and not there though! Damned mothers day.". Honest, that was the sentiment I encountered all day. It sure must suck to have a mom looking out for your expanding waistline on "her" day! Man, the only thing worse than that is if she had those cold beers waiting for you when you finished shopping (for butter the mom was using to cook his dinner with). And we all know she had the beer cold. So, the flip side of all this is that a lot of people were buying aluminum foil. In two's and three's, multiple rolls at a time. And at the end of my grocery store experience three kids (fifteen and sixteen is still 'kids') came through the line with three rolls of aluminum foil, a couple red bulls and a bagel. Not a word was said till they finished paying, at which point the guy (there were two girls, a guy...no pizza place...) who was not only silent but stone still the entire time looked over at me and said "Robot Costume". That was it, "Robot Costume". A smile and they left. And I was thinking, what says mothers day better than a robot costume? Nothing. Those three silent kids had put all the petty, angst riddled family drama I'd seen that day into stunning perspective. Wrap yourself up in aluminum foil, empty yourself of emotion and desire and then go about your day. Be a robot. Robots are souless machines bent on the destruction of human kind. They drink way too much. They are foul mouthed and will steal your medications. But they are completely selfless. They have no soul to serve and are mostly sedate till the backup programming kicks in. Robots are the perfect template for mothers day harmony. They don't complain, they don't think, they merely do. For once in your life, ignore your inner cries of protest about suffering at moms hands. Let go of the pain and resentment. Don't try to focus on positives. Don't become a martyr. Literally deny yourself existence for one damn day and let your mom have a day of her own. Because they are few and far between for her. Every other day of the year you can be as ungrateful and resentful as you want. Heck, you probably have good reason to be! I don't question your right to be that way, just the necessity. For one single day, make yourself a robot costume, commune with your robot nature and let go. Let mom be mom. Be her son or daughter. Don't bitch and moan. Don't complain. Just be. She'll appreciate it more than all the flowers, chocolate and butter in the world. It's selfless. My whole family accidentally bought my mom her favorite starbucks drink on mothers day. She's got like four or five still in the fridge. That's not really selfless. It's considerate. The selfless part is that my brother and dad had those coupons for a "buy one get one free" drink at starbucks. They got my moms drinks and then split one drink themselves. That was selfless. It also was not robotic. They're beyond the need for robot sympathy, having learned on their own to value another more highly. But for all the special people, seriously think about investing in some aluminum foil next year. It'll make the world a better place for a day. And then when the robots do come in the middle of the night, they will mistake you for other robots and the human resistance can flourish briefly before being wipped out once and for all.

2005-05-08T18:21:00.000-07:00

This is one of those hella sad things in life. Seeing a persons potential just erased. All the redemption he had left in him, done in by one drunk asshole. Too many people cared for it ever to be cool to have ended like this. For proper respects you gotta go to: http://www.lay-lo.com/graff/bore.html Better late than never. R.I.P. Travis.

Thespacebardoesn'twork...

2005-05-08T00:31:00.000-07:00

I've never tried to fill in online forms with a broken keyboard before. You end up hitting the "edit" button every other page to keep it all straight. You re-type almost every single sentence. Heck, I'm re-typing as we speak. It's a silly thing, a malfunctioning key, it demands all of your attention and becomes the unifying theme to whatever you're doing. I could be typing a report or spamming a friends email box and I'd have to re-read every single word to make sure the space made it in. I do have to check every single word. I'm enjoying the process in a weird "editorial" way, as if I'm fixing someone else's errors. As long as they're my errors, I'm going to savor them. Well golly, this isn't sweeps week, I'll save the exciting plot lines for later.

Wait for it...

2005-05-06T20:22:00.000-07:00

So, I've got a habit of starting things I'm writting with "So,". It's just a habit, not a particularly bad one, but it's a pretty ingrained habit none the less. Maybe I'll break it, but this whole thing is sorta freeform and spontaneous, so breaking it might be a bit too forced for my taste. I also like run on sentences and big words I can use in sentences, but that I can't spell. I have a propensity for them. See, I'm not sure I spelled that word correctly and I'm purposely refraining from using spell check on this, just as a form of self enforced something or other. In fact, I'll probably spell check this whole thing after I publish it, just for peace of mind. I won't edit the thing, but I'll know (and maybe, just maybe, you will too...).
There, that's better (I just changed font). Seems a bit odd that I can process better in a pleasing font, but I can, so it changes. No idea what the default font is on this thing and I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter. It might, but I'll deal with that then. If old english teachers from school days past are to read this, my utter lack of a point will be a small comfort. That, as well as my continuing ignorance of grammar, punctuation and spelling (though not necessarily in that order, or at all...).
I am just now recouping from the day at work, the beer is still cold, the TV muted. I am not sure how this all fits togther yet, but it'll happen. I've been fostering a small fear of gas stations for some time now. At first it was a fear of running into the island with my bumper. Given time and experience that has dissapated (mostly). My fears being what they are (mine) naturally abhor a vaccum, and are instantly replaced with more severe, and possibly british, ones. Take this new fear of the gas station: I'm not even positive it is new. That was a horrible use of the one-on-top-of-the-other-dots-thingies. Totally wasted. Anyway, I am starting to believe that my new fear was only masked by the original fear, and the relief I felt after I successfully navigated the tiny driving lanes at the gas station. I think that this new fear was there all along, and that I just failed to pay it due heed. So, this new sort of british fear is a fear of the attendants. They are for the most part totally friendly and outgoing. They seem quick to smile or at least yell at someone other than me. They even wash my windows with those dirty squegees (sometimes). My fear is this: That they are only being so nice and social in order to get a tip. This is a multi-stage fear so bear with me. See, I don't use cash. Plastic is my drug of choice, the narcotic of convenience and respectability rolled up in a slow burn wrapper. When you pay with a card at the gas station they don't give you a tip section to show some guilt. They might expect you to carry a spot of cash, but I don't. It's all plastic, most of the time. I always feel akward being friendly and engaging when I have this creeping sensation of being a mark. Being made for a quick tip. I'm usually getting gas after or before work (never on a day off oddly...) so I've got the whole shirt and tie thing happening. Whatever it is, they come running and I'm left feeling like the guy in the '87 Jetta is getting ignored because I might, just might give a tip. But I'm not tipping. And so I'm akward and stilted dealing with the delightful human beings who pump my gas. Mind you I don't want to pump my own. Oh no, this is a mark of refinement having someone else pump gas for me. I'll pay the tax and create jobs and all that bit. No, I'm just uncomfortable with the interaction bit. I always sigh and stretch or yawn like I've been worked beyond any standard of decency. I feign dazed stuppor or hide behind my coffee cup. I cringe when I'm called "sir". Yes, I could budget my gas money, carry it in cash and include a tip in my figures. I could carry tip money specially for the gas station. I could have scratch-its on hand for a unique type of gratitude. Or, I could just come up with a bunch of half-assed solutions and continue on with my ways and fears.
Change is a constant, but damned if I don't at least put up a fight. I have my neurotic fear of interactions with gas station attendants that I'm not going to tip, and that's just how it is. I've got friends that used to work at gas stations. I know the ways they devised to spot a tip, the customers they sought out, stories told. I know the thinly veiled disgust they felt for non-tippers, the people who didn't think they were good enough to live (their sentiment, not mine). Maybe that has contributed to my neurosis. Maybe I really am just becoming british and socially akward. Maybe I'm creating drama to avoid self realizations of being stingy with the help. Do I really need to solve this? Or should I just enjoy my own bumbling ineptness in this limited irregular occurance? Eh...
That's all I got. I'm still new to this whole form of ego stroking. I'm sufficently self important so I'm really just curious to see what happens here. I've got no mission statement, no plan of attack. Just a blank page and my mind. God save us all.

Coming dear...

2005-05-05T22:58:00.000-07:00

So, the name is a bit odd to me right now because the very first thing I posted was a picture. That was a complete and total accident, but hey, you gotta start somewhere. I needed a name for this and "These are just words..." was written on my notebook of random crap that I carry around. Seemed to work as well as anything else at the moment. That's about it. More as follows. Yes dear, coming dear...

2005-05-05T21:28:00.000-07:00

You should see the rest of the house...