%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   A little bit of everything, colored my own way. |
 BLOG CHALLENGE WINNER FOR SEPTEMBER 2011 AND APRIL 2012!! ** Image ID #1901871 Unavailable **  After almost a year away, I've decided to revisit Blogville. I'm refreshed and ready...this time around it'll be a little different. I'll talk about a little bit of everything...music, sports, retail life, and more. It's not for everyone...you might not like it, but someone you know (and possibly detest) probably will! WHO THE HELL DO I THINK I AM??  We're gonna find out one way or another!  Relax, enjoy, leave a comment, tell your friends... A special thanks to Julie D - PUBLISHED!  for the 2011 Quill Awards image!"There is only one way...it is THE WAY." -Photo Jesus  "Can't you count to one??"  Thanks for stopping by and showing your support!  |
| THE PROMPT: "Discuss Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Short Stories featuring Sherlock Holmes." Wow. Well, at least I'm back online after having to replace our router. Got three solid years out of it, so I can't complain. But it is one of those unexpected little things that comes up from time to time that you need to do something about, and I'm lucky we were in a position to be able to do something right away. I'm also lucky there was a phone around so I could half-ass an entry. Which is more than I can say about tonight's prompt, which seems destined to fail me in this month's "unofficial version" of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  . Allow me not to get into specifics; all you really need to know is that if I ever read them, I have no recollection of them whatsoever. And that's not a reflection on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or his work. It's more than likely that it's been 25 years since I read anything about Sherlock Holmes. And I must've been really bored by it, because I haven't been bothered to want to brush up on it.I may, in the past few years, bought a few volumes of Holmes stories when I worked at Borders. I went through a stage of collecting a few classics to have, maybe to one day reread, share with the boys, or see what the big deal was in the first place. And sometimes between my discount, their "rewards" program and some pretty generous sales, I'd stock up. Between all of my books, and the books Jess has, we've got quite a library now. That reminds me...I've got an album of pictures on Facebook I haven't updated since pretty much the day I took them. It's about our house, and I don't think I've put one up that features the entertainment system. It's a whole freakin' wall! Television on the left, electronics in the center, and books on the right, with pictures and decor going across the top. The bottom cabinets have our massive dvd collection (mostly Jess'), some picture albums, and some storage for blankets and accessories. It's massive, and 100% handmade by Jess' dad. It was too much to take to Florida with them, so they gave it to her. I don't think we had it fully stocked when I took the picture of it. But anyway, yeah, Sherlock Holmes!! He's a sweet dude. They've made a few movies about him too, but I never watched 'em. I don't watch movies. I don't have the attention span. I fall asleep. It's really the only way to get me to fall asleep when I'm wide awake. I should try watching movies when I go to bed...of course, then I might really actually care more about the movie than the sleep itself. Sleep and I? We're not friends often, unless I can get a lot of it...wait...does that make me the bad friend to sleep?  Oh. So yeah, I'm pretty sure on the bookshelf side of the entertainment center there's some Sherlock. No shit. (  I had to work that lame-ass joke in there somewhere!) Hopefully one of the kids will have to study him at some point, and we'll have the book there in case the school doesn't supply one, or makes it a recommendation for summer reading. I can't believe the lists these schools put out now...suggesting some of these books! All the kids have to go by is the title, and they have to guess if they're gonna like it or not. And good luck trying to find one of those books in a library...especially if your community only has one library and the neighboring communities only have one or two. Now you're asking hundreds of students to fight over maybe five copies of one book in a county-wide library system. Yikes! And if you can actually get these kids to want to read some of the crap on those "summer reading" lists, hopefully they're not out of print so you can spend your hard-earned cash on some crap your kid might right, might not read, or never remember reading it 25 years later because it was so not his taste in literature at all.MUSICAL BREAK!! Honestly couldn't think up of any good murder/mystery music, so I went the next best route and chose the most amazing cop show drama music video ever. It was too easy. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5rRZdiu1UE&ob=av2e VITAL STATS: I could tell you all about it, but that would ruin my prompt for tomorrow. Yes, the one I wrote! So come back again and I'll have a good story for ya.  No, I do have a story for you. Boy, retail hell today. If you wait until 8pm on Valentine's Day to get your sweetheart some flowers, and you're getting them from a drug store (that, by the way, only carries flowers around special occasions), don't expect the pick of the litter. In fact, they're going to be gross. We got a shipment of flowers in on Wednesday, all at various price points. All were individually priced. The display was two-tiered, with buckets at the bottom for the nicer flowers, and a cardboard shelf with the cheap potted stuff on top.Lance Romance comes in at 8pm and buys a bouquet of roses for $24.99. They're clearly labled $24.99. The signs on the shelf, which aren't even close to the buckets he got his flowers on, say $4.99. The description on those signs clearly do not match what he has in his grubby mitts. And instead of questioning the cashier why he's paying so much, he wants to talk to me. Fine, jackass. He wants to know why they're so expensive. Then he wants to know why they look so bad. He doesn't ask for a refund, which I would've done for him. No, he just wants to complain. I tell him that we sold out of the $4.99 ones earlier today, and yeah, they've been sitting there since Wednesday. He continues to point out how crappy they look. Well, Lance, we're not florists, which is where you should've gone. And why didn't I take those signs down? Because we've been busy...you aren't the only last minute shopper. I had the good fortune of doing nearly twice our Tuesday night volume, while closing the store for the night with a third of the crew I usually have. "Yeah, but it'd probably take you 30 seconds to take those signs down," he argues. Listen up, Lance Romance. I don't go into Burger King and tell you how to make fries, so shut up and quit your bitchin'. Valentine's Day is the same day, every year. You know this. Plan ahead, and don't get yourself stuck with shitty flowers...that you could've returned anyway. You walked away letting me own you without saying anything mean, yet your girl gets shitty flowers that you waited until the last minute to get from a freakin' drug store. Ladies, never date Lance Romance. And with that little story, I'm gettin' out of here. It's late, I'm late, but what the hell. Save it for another day, right? Hope everyone got some love today. Love 'em all like it's Feb. 14th every day of the year, minus the chocolates and the flowers and the Hallmark crap, and we'll all do alright. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6P0SitRwy8&ob=av2e |
| No fanciness in here tonight, folks. My internet's down and I'm typing this up on my girlfriend's phone. So today's prompt I believe was about love's slavation? Ummm, interesting. Many words and examples come to mind. Devotion is one. Dedication. A sense of entrapment? Maybe for some. Depends on how you look at it I guess. Are we slaves to the feelings caused by and about our significant others? Do we live a life together in such a way that we could duplicate it if we were apart? Is it a case of certain things/options only being available solely to one person and only one? This is how I view love's slavation...that these are things that bind us together, while willfully submitting ourselves to. You probably don't need me to tell you that love also requires a great deal of compromise. That's a known fact...but also a contributing factor in slavation. You lose out on something to gain something else. Jess and I are examples of all of the above. We gave up separate apartments to live in a house together. In turn, I gave up a lot of personal space to her boys, but now they do the laundry for one more person. However, that one extra person is another option for when they need a ride, or to put food on the table, or gain a new perspective from. It's all a big circle. So, slavation in love isn't always a terrible thing. And that's it for the prompt-satisfying portion of the entry. And if you don't mind, I'm gonna give Jess her phone back so I can call Time Warner to see what's up with our internet. Happy Valentine's Day to you all tomorrow...hopefully I'll get to your comments and emails before then. Man, I forgot what a pain in the ass it is to blog from a phone! |
| THE PROMPT: "Tragedy or near tragedy befalls for (?) from character list." Well friends, it's another hot pink entry from my trove of stories about my life. Enjoy it while you can. We knew it was coming, but we couldn't say for sure when. Jess' grandmother was being moved into Hospice care, and The Get Up Kids were reuniting and going on tour, destined to hit Buffalo at some point. While Jess handled what she could for her Nani, I went out and bought six tickets for the concert. One for me, Jess and her two boys, and two spares in case friends that wanted to go couldn't get them. Priorities, right? The first few times TGUK came to the area, I'd missed them. For one reason or another, I couldn't go. It took me awhile, and much prodding from my boys Adam and DMFM to get into them, but I fell in love good and hard with them. I got to see them in Niagara Falls before they broke up, and it was a great, if not disappointing show. The bands that played after them would've been nothing without The Get Up Kids. But TGUK were back! And I was pumped! We made a few visits to Hospice to see Nani, who was in the final stages of dementia. I didn't know her, but it was sad to see her go. I was sad more for everyone else who knew her. All I would hear were stories from those who knew her. The funeral was planned in her hometown (I believe), weeks after her death and a local service. It was in a town outside of Albany, almost eight hours away. Had I not just started my new position a few months earlier at work, I would've gone. But rules are rules, vacation time wasn't earned yet, and "a girlfriend's grandmother" doesn't qualify one for berevement pay. So Jess and the boys headed out to the burial, and I stayed home. Of course, that was the same week as the concert. I was sitting on five tickets. I was able to unload a couple...one to DMFM's friend and co-worker, and one to Jess' coworker that we bowled with. I had my little brother and some of the old Penora Crew with me. Plus I had my boys. While I felt my girlfriend's pain, the night was offset by being at the corner of the stage watching a band I'd loved for years. I've been through so much that The Get Up Kids' music has seen me through than anyone could imagine, and it would've been awesome to have Jess and the boys there. It would've been nice to attend the funeral of her grandmother also, to bond more with the family, but in the early stages of a new job, I needed to get paid. Mixed emotions? You tell me. MUSICAL BREAK!! Of course I'm going to post songs by The Get Up Kids! Why wouldn't I?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PziIz6eL51g http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuvo0cO-r24&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYm1PDwLrQM http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPp8fKjsBUU And the all-time most heartbreakingly awesomest song ever, where a lyric and a guitar can punch you in the gut and define the definition of emotional music when you miss someone. Yeah, it's so raw and beautiful, it hurts. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wO_3KRIk_bQ The 1:30 minute mark or so is the most amazing thing in music besides these lyrics. VITAL STATS:  The microbrews in the fridge didn't stand a chance against me today. Drama only lives on the more you play into it. I'm not playing. And if it continues, I'll have no problem taking my  out of the game. Cuz I prefer to keep this zone of my life drama-free. Although, it is my belief that others need to recount themselves first before they go on the "attack", and by "attack", I mean overly worded shots at others that make their reads sound like ego-driven mushmouths. Enough said. It's time to update my Facebook security settings. G-Stamm texted me a funny pic this morning. The backstory? I went to a Halloween party a couple years ago dressed as a candidate for governor of NY. G texts me a pic of Jimmy McMillan that says "Whitney Houston...was too damn high!" I posted it on Facebook, and recieved a few likes and shares for my time. Then I get a message from someone who I'm not even friends with, saying something like "You need to take that pic down. It's offending and you need to respect the dead." This weirdo chick is subscribed to my posts. So I did the right thing. I blocked her.  If we're not friends, and you don't know me, may you be blessed along the way of not being a part of my awesomeness.This chick lives in Buffalo, and once posted on Facebook that she wants to be friends with everybody. There's no way I'd even accept that friend request, and I have too many friends on FB as it stands. It's cheap beer and Grammy time, I suppose. I've always enjoyed the Grammys for the fun collaborations. But the music I like will never win one. Oh well. Maybe I should hit a crack pipe in honor of a legend. Or maybe not. Whatever you're up to, people, make the best out of it. I'll always love you, if you wanna dance with somebody. If not, GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fsr0vt33qM |
| THE PROMPT: "Dating ensues. Characters meet the fam or social pals." Good evening friends. Looks like the serial thing isn't going away, so I'll suck it up and play along. It was inevitable. Date night with her friends from work. Mind you, they had already known enough about me from my trips to Walgreens. But now they had more dots to connect with Jess and I dating. More dots means shorter lines and better angles. At least that's how I remembered it. Her boss was by and far the most skeptical, as well as the closest, of her work people. And I suppose going into all of this, we each had a something against each other. She hated my name, so she called me "Bobby". And I hated her for that. We started the night at Brennan's, another Irish pub (and while I realize this is a Valentine's Day thing, two straight days of Irish pub mentions already has me thinking of St. Patty's Day more . Dinner with Jess, her boss and myself. Was I nervous? No. But I wouldn't say I was comfortable until the Guiness started flowin'. And all things considered, it wouldn't be until Christmastime that I'd meet her parents. That was nerve-wracking.So what did I have going for me? There was a Sabres game on. I'm a Sabres fan. Jess' bosslady is a Sabres fan. Jess is a fan because her dad's a Sabres fan. And Irish bars in Buffalo suburbs are typically packed on game nights...so when waiting for a table, the conversation is pretty much shouting whispers into people's ears and enjoying the reciprocation of that in your own ear. It was cool once we were finally seated in the dining area, which was considerably quieter. The girls dominated the conversation, but I managed to make a few points here and there to ensure I was still a part of the evening. I can remember Jess saying a few days later that her boss really liked me, or something to that effect. After dinner we moved back to the bar area, where the crowd was thinning and we could watch the rest of the game on a bigger screen. More of her co-workers came out, and they were all nice and receptive. The Sabres won a good, hard fought game. Conversations flowed like Guiness from the tap to my mouth to their ears. We stepped out to the patio for a cigarette at one point, and were greeted with screams and hugs by Jess' cousin and her husband, who were in back in town from California. I'd met her sister and brother-in-law by then, but this was pretty much the first time I'd be encountering extended family. The nerves? They returned. But what was great for me is that Jess' cousin and her husband were very warm and open...as I would find the rest of her extended family to be. The night was an overall success. MUSICAL BREAK!! Ohhh, the choices...let's see what happens... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SiYDJ432b0U That's what you get when I got nothin'. VITAL STATS: Yeah, I know...not really following a storyline other than the one I lived. If I had the time and energy, I'd write an autobiography, and maybe a screenplay. But this serial is going nowhere in terms of whatever a serial is. And that's ok with me, because the ending still has yet to play itself out in our lives, and won't for a long, long time. Did you know that when a large bottle of V-8 juice falls and explodes, when it dries on olive green pants it looks like someone threw up on you? Cuz yeah, that was my morning at work. Sixty-four ounces of blended vegetables, all over me from the left knee down.Other than all of this and that, not a bad day. I'm gonna keep it short tonight...got a whole day of nothin' goin' on tomorrow, so we'll see how that works out. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgqM7zrgCLI |
| THE PROMPT: "Boy meets girl. Chance encounter/ provide geographic setting." Well, here we are. The serial prompt portion of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . I'll knock this out quick and then it's on to real things...like actual blogging. From what I've been thinking, this should be fairly easy. Well, I'm ready. I think. I've got my keys, my phone, my money, and my swagger. It's been going on for too long now...something's gotta give, and I'm not giving up. Yet, at least. I'm in too far now to give up. Yeah, let's go and do this. I slashed legs down Penora Street, cut down that street I could never remember the name of off Gould Avenue, hit Terrace Boulevard, cut down the other angled street I could never remember, and made it to Broadway. I made sure the iPod had somethin' nice on the whole time. I crossed Broadway before the intersection...a risky move on a busy street on a day that was all about taking chances anyway. But as I walked through the Walgreens parking lot, I forgot what I was going to say to her. I was too caught up in the moments before the moment to even let a moment worth remembering happen. I had already thought ahead and let the positive scenario win out in my mind, time after ridiculous times after they didn't. And yet, there I am again. Grabbed my newspaper and my Mountain Dew, hoping I'd have a positive message for the readers of my blog, finally. I made my way to her counter. Just another day of small talk done wrong on my behalf, or so I thought. It'd been almost the same thing every day for almost six months at least now, but every nowhere with her was always feeling like somewhere. Something bigger or better. And even if I wasn't getting anywhere with mere conversation between the counterhelp and the regular customer I'd become, that feeling a farmer gets when he plants his seeds was the same thing I was feeling. The crops don't grow overnight, and I'd been waiting and watering them for a long time. And this went from necessity to cold calculation. From the first snowy night that I walked my ass over to that store and she remembered me by putting my purchases together, I knew it. I knew there was something about her. Something valid and tangible. And that's what drove me to keep coming back. Maybe it was how she made me feel welcome. Maybe it was how she could let the guard down and make me feel like I wasn't just the "regular customer", or how she could fuck around with me like we were friends going way back. I don't know...but I knew I'd pass at least six different places I could buy a newspaper on the way to buy one from her, and at least a few I could get a Mountain Dew at as well. And to top it all off, the Walgreens was in the opposite direction of the library I would be headed in, to report my daily interactions with the "Cute Walgreens Chick". And I let her know, a time or two, that I could be going many other places when she'd start to bust my balls for being unemployed, or anything else she could jab into me. Like not asking her out. But anyway, getting back to today, like I said, the conversation wasn't conducive regarding my intentions. If I don't take no for an answer, it's because I don't ask the right questions in the first place. I left in a slightly heated mess, because all of my intentions were again wasted when she asked me what I'd do without her if she was transferred to another store, because she was up for a promotion. I shouldn't have to tell you I didn't make it to the library. While it was a gorgeous day, I went back home to 542 to just re-reflect, I suppose. I had some of the Penora Crew boys over, and we were bullshittin' around as usual. I wrote my blog on my phone really quick, and we were deciding if we wanted to play Kan Jam or throw the football around. Funny how lazy the gorgeous days are. We had exchanged numbers around the Fourth Of July, but never really took advantage of them. I knew she was seeing someone at one point in the spring, and that had some sort of bearing on our interactions. Needless to say, I was unprepared for the texting that was taking place. She had taken her youngest son to the hospital because he'd had some adventurous boy kind of injury, so she was texting me to pass the time. When he decided he would rather go to his dad's for the weekend, that's when I got the breakthrough text. "I'm starving...wanna meet up for dinner and drinks?" We agreed on Macgruders, an Irish pub by my place. We ate. We danced. We kissed. All of Blogville rejoiced. MUSICAL BREAK!! Neither of us can come to a consensus, but I believe this is one of the first songs we danced to. The fact that she had one of their cd's in her car was enough for me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CTAud5O7Qqk&ob=av2e VITAL STATS: Three straight days of good times, bad innuendos and me getting work done? Who'da thunk I'd be lovin' my job in February? It's going to be the coldest night of the entire winter, at 8 degrees. I do not like this. At. All. Prompts during a bloggling challenge? Fun, different and exciting. Serial prompts? They suck the joy out of blogging because that's not blogging. If I wanted to write a damn story, I would. Entirely separate from my blog, which is supposed to be about me and my feelings and thoughts and days and whatever the hell else I want to put into it, and said story would be in an altogether different place in my port. Not some crappy story taking up space in my blog...which, by the way, isn't a crappy story this time around. And I'm on the verge of a full-scale rant, so I'm gonna step back and relax for a second. Can I just take over the whole basement? Please? Pleeeeease??Well, I'm gonna get out of here and try to listen to the rest of the Sabres' game, and then do some catching up. We'll see what happens. 'Til tomorrow...stay warm. Mad love for all y'all. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ijk4j-r7qPA&feature=endscreen&NR=1 |
| THE PROMPT: "Details for library visits." Huh?? So it goes around here sometimes, folks. How's everyone doin' tonight? Thanks for stoppin' by. As you can see, (like most of the time) I have no idea what's goin' on around here. And like most of the time, I'mma jus' wing it. Better yet, if you're familiar with "I'm Studying You" , we're gonna do it like this and take it back to 2009!What's up Studyees? Welcome back to The Library! As all y'all know, I'm no longer chasing after the legendary Jess the CWC, nor does your boy Bert here have to walk to and from the Lancaster Public Library anymore to fill you in on his adventures when he's goin' for his newspaper, Mountain Dew and a peek at his love interest, hoping she'll give him a little more than his merch, his change, and the time of day. Nope, not anymore. Those days are through. Listen, Stoggers. What I'm here to do tonight is give you a list of things I don't miss about having to go to the library as often anymore. Why? Cuz that's how we do things up in here, bullet-point style.  I don't miss the evil eye the crotchedy old ladies counterjockeying would give me when I asked to renew my 1-hour internet session for the 5th time that day. While I loved the attention "The Chase For The CWC" garnered, I didn't care for the disappointment in my readers' tone when I let them down daily by not getting this chick. I mean that in a good and sincere way...y'all would be so excited, waiting to hear from me, and then days turned into weeks until Noe was finally like, "Dude, I'll come up there with Lisa and Cat and smack the shit outta her, really. Can we crash at your place?" Ohhh you Stoggers...of course I'd let them stay if it would've come down to that. I don't miss having to sneak sips out of my St. Dew when the librarians weren't working. I definitely don't miss the puzzled faces when I'd come up to the counter with 40 cd's I'd want to borrow just so I could load them up on my iPod, or having to explain to them why I was doing it. The head librarian was like, "You'll never listen to all of those before the due date!" No shit...it only will take me an hour to upload them all though. I never really answered the phone when they'd call with the automated reminder about "having overdue materials". Getting stuck on the really crappy, old, slow computer sucked. Seeing the same, boring faces every day, and not really wanting to get to know the persons behind any of them. I don't have to pay ten cents a page if I want to print something. I don't miss having a valid library card anymore. The last time I tried to use it, they said I owed them money for "overdue materials". Ooooopsie. So there you have it, Studyees. While it was a nice chance to revisit The Library for an evening to reminisce (and by "reminisce" I mean "torture myself with memories"), it's best we lock the door on it for now, at least until the next opportunity to go there presents itself. It's been fun, but I gotta get back. Don't forget to love one another, and... MUSICAL BREAK!! I only took you back to '09. This (which is barely audible over the voice-over) wants to take you back to '79. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isumZjs3dKA Quite a fitting title once I finally sealed the deal back in the day. This one goes back to '89. Specifically, the summer. Another summer. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WHe5fxS3dA And of course, the obvious selection: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDmW6RTZ5MQ What, he's too purpley to let YouTube play his jams? Laaaaame. VITAL STATS:  Back to regularly scheduled programming in 2012. I know you're concerned, and I'm concerned too. I finally did return all those cd's I borrowed from the Lancaster Library. I think I still owe them like $40-some odd bucks anywho. It'll be taken care of some day. Unless the county shuts the libraries down again. I don't know that I've had two days in a row at work where I've laughed myself to tears...at least it's been quite awhile. From an assistant manager being taken out by a pen-whipping boss' dart to his leg, to checking my own dome when she whipped her pen at me (I was saved by a door frame), to all of the ridiculous chicanery and innuendo spouting, it's amazing we got any work done. Besides the overload of box jokes today, we came across a new item you'll be seeing soon on the shelves: http://www.planters.com/varieties/nutrition-information.aspx?Site=1&Product=2900... Early reports say it's peanuts, cashews, beer nuts and Viagara. And yes, no nuts were off-limits today. From The "Stupid People" File, Bad Math Edition: A customer walks up to G-Stamm with a 300-count bottle of some kind of aspirin or vitamin, and says, "Oh, there's 300 in there. That's a whole years' worth, right?" Not on my calendar it's not.Alrightey then. This guy has to move on with his evening. Another round of serial prompts start tomorrow, and I promise you all I'll try not to take it so seriously this time. We'll see. That said, peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHiUQb5xg7A |
| THE PROMPT: "With Valentine's day is next week, how will you celebrate February 14th? If you have a significant other what will you do for them? if not, what will you for yourself?" Awww man, did I really screw myself this year . Good evening players...it's a cold one out there. Time for a cold one up in here while I break down how last year went for myself and justjessica1. I had the day off, while she worked until 3:30 I believe...maybe 4 or 5pm, I'm not sure. And of course, I had no friggin' clue until about a week before. I saw a recipe in the paper for truffles. Seemed easy enough, and they're homemade, and tasty, and I made 'em. But what else to get her?I went to a craft store the day of, looking for any bit of inspiration. I went to Target. I went to a few other places, just searching aimlessly. Even a grocery store...well, I had to, because I had to get the stuff to make the truffles (and I didn't want to hear "Hey honey, why'd you buy white chocolate chips? And why all of the other chocolate chips?"...I had to do it all on the sneak.) And somehow, like my greatest inspirations always do, it hit me with little time to spare. I bought a pair of champagne flutes and painted a heart with a J on one and an N on the other. So romantic, so creative, and ye of little artistic ability was barely able to pull it off. I filled 'em with Hershey Kisses, stuffed 'em back in the box, wrapped it up, and boom, one present done. The truffles, however, were a pain in the ass to make. I chose a cookies and cream one (milk chocolate covered in white chocolate and crushed Oreos) and damn, I don't even remember the second kind...maybe they were peanut butter ones covered in chocolate. But that's neither here nor there for now. Let me just say that I know my around the kitchen a little bit, but this may have been the hardest thing I've ever tried to make. Hand-rolling chocolate into more chocolate is a lot harder than it sounds, even with refridgerated and frozen chocolate. The frozen chocolate? Forget it. You've got to time all of this right...and these recipes didn't instruct you much on timing. But that doesn't matter...it's the end result. I bought a fancy heart-shaped box, lined it with wax paper, filled it with two layers of truffles, and who's the best boyfriend ever??  This guy. So now, I've got just under a week. And I believe we're both working night shifts that day, so I won't have much of a last-minute luxury like I did last year. And, of course, I haven't got the slightest idea of what I'm going to do, especially after setting the bar so high for myself last year. Cuz I'm a guy, and it's all about the one-upsmanship and all. But I'll think of something. I always do. MUSICAL BREAK!! I believe part of her present the year before last was tickets to see this tribute band perform...and it was amazing. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIZ44obqICI Correction: the year before, we took Jess' parents. And the year before that was the first time we went. They come here around Valentine's Day nearly every year. Haven't made plans yet, but we'll see. VITAL STATS: Not many...had a lot of laughs at work today watching my boss throw pens at people and beat people with a rolled-up poster. And we were still pretty productive. Sabres game started a few minutes ago...gotta run so I can watch it while not distracting myself by typing. Stay warm...and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpjQuLbzl28&feature=related |
| THE PROMPT: "Open Prompt y'all ... Write whatever ya like!" Good evening y'all...another open prompt. Easy enough, right? On the surface, yes, but really, it's not. See, my life's not always that exciting, and today would be one of those days. In fact, if there was such a thing as getting credit for calling in sick during a blogging competition, I'd be taking a sick day today. But since that doesn't exist, I'll write about something I'm pretty sure nobody in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" has ever written about before: Shoplifting.Ask anybody who's ever done time in retail, and they'll surely have crazy stories. Face it, us retailers see everything, from all types of people. Especially when it comes to shoplifting. Everyone does it...not just the shady lookin' dude in the hoodie, nor the 10-year-old who doesn't have her own money for a candy bar. I've seen old people steal candy because they either thought it was complementary, or were on too fixed of an income to pay for it, or actually felt they were entitled to it. You've got teenage girls stealing pregnancy tests because they're too afraid to tell their parents they might be knocked up, or girls stealing weight-loss supplements because society has maimed the image of beauty so much that only skanky, anorexically-thin women are beautiful and attractive. People steal batteries all the time from my store. It's theft. It's wrong, and it's ridiculous. Why is it ridiculous? Because companies nowadays, in their annual budgets, actually allow for loss of profits due to estimated theft. But that's not even the thing that amazes me the most about shoplifting. It's the random things that people actually steal that boggles my mind. In the past few months alone, I've some across an empty box of jumper cables. I mean really?? How do you get those out of a store? Or 15" storage cubes that come two in a package? Today, in the mens' room, there were at least ten boxes of weight-loss supplements in the garbage, all without the product. How exactly do you smuggle that out of a store without sounding like a giant baby rattle?? How do you make it from one end of the store, all the way to the other side to the bathroom, de-box your take, and then come from all the way in the back, to the front of the store? Unbelieveable. I can barely carry a glass of water from the sink to the kitchen table, and some clown's jugglin' 10 pill bottles with at least 60 pills inside. Must be training for the klepto-olympics. Another fantastic phenomenon relating to shoplifting is that people will always find something they can steal, no matter how hard you work to prevent it. When there was a notorius local gum bandit, we tagged all of our gum with stickers and moved it as close to the front as we could...and some stores even had locks installed on the gum hooks. When that couldn't be stolen anymore, it was razors and razor blades. When those got locked up, thieves moved on to all of the Ethnic Hair Care items...we'd stock the shelf and they'd all be gone by the next day. And when we finally got that under control, it was dvd players and bottles of 5-Hr. Energy drinks. So it doesn't matter what you tag, sticker or point a camera at...if you're determined enough, you'll find something. And why is this? I can't speak to every region in the country, but my store's located in a pretty decent neighborhood. However, it is within pretty close proximity to some of the more undesireable areas of Western New York, and some of those locales still have the "mom and pop" types of convenience businesses (or, as I figure, big corporations won't step foot in these neighborhoods). And the racket they like to run is paying scumbags to go to other stores and steal shit they can turn around and resell, rather than getting their merch though proper channels. Ohhhh, society, and the ways you have of breaking my heart sometimes. So there's my "open prompt" for the day. Not interesting, really. But I will share one final shoplifting story, and I'm pretty sure I've brought this one up before. KY sells a product called "Yours & Mine", which consists of 2 bottles of lube...one designed for "him", and one designed for "her". A woman comes in with one and wants to return it, and she's got her receipt showing that she bought two packages, so it's a legit return, right? So after processing her return, out of curiosity, I opened the cover on the box (it had one of those velcro displays where you could see what was inside without having to actually open it and touch the contents) to see what was inside. Yup, a bottle of "Yours", and another bottle of "Yours". I'll let you simmer in that one for a minute...   MUSICAL BREAK!! Or, maybe I just needed an excuse to listen to this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSbBkY7tAC4 And not because it's my birthday...that's later on in the year. VITAL STATS:  If this current trend continues, I may have to change my handle on WDC, as well as several other sites. Ever since I stopped growing at the ripe age of 14, I've always bought pants that had a 30" inseam. And while I have reason to think maybe it's the shoes I wear most of the time that's causing this issue, maybe I really am starting to shrink. See, most of the pants I've bought in the last few years seem to be just long enough that I'm stepping on the back of them, and after a few months the cuffs start wearing out. In fact, the new khakis I got for work today we so long that I flipped the cuffs up just to not be walking on them. Man, it's a bitch to find pants that are a 32" waist and a 29" inseam, and Fivefiver doesn't have the same ring to it that Fivesixer does. And Fivefourer sounds terrible. Maybe if I keep spiking my hair up in the front, it won't be so bad.  It's tough on everybody in hockey these days, I guess... http://wgr550.com/Sabres--Ruff--Day-to-Day---May-Not-Coach-Wednesday/12209645That's how exciting my day's been. Hope yours has been better. See ya tomorrow...peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKycffJsxGk  |
| THE PROMPT: "MARCELLA SHALE, USA" Hey folks...always a good idea to Google your prompt when you have no clue as to what the statement is even trying to tell you. My first thought was that Marcella Shale is a tiny little podunk hick town, possibly in Pennsylvania, Ohio or the midwest. My second thought was maybe it was a person? An organization or business? So I turn to Google, and I click this link: http://www.marcellusshales.com/shaleplays.html It's fair to say that that link told me absolutely nothing. Clicking that link and viewing the page is about as useful as going to a Chinese restaurant for the purpose of learning how to speak Chinese. I found it humorous though that at the bottom of that page, there's a link to play a game! Ooooooohhh! I like games! So I clicked on that, and was directed here: {link:http://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?client=ca-pub-9248565517775527&output=html&h=90&slotname=9027929212&w=180&lmt=1304459716&flash=11.1.102.55&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.marcellusshales.com%2Fshaleplays.html&dt=1328580458191&bpp=10&shv=r20120125&jsv=r20110914&prev_slotnames=1564571009%2C4436619025%2C9027929212%2C7719618891%2C9432557333&correlator=1328580458186&frm=20&adk=1826750662&ga_vid=1779724412.1328580458&ga_sid=1328580458&ga_hid=1470733783&ga_fc=0&u_tz=-300&u_his=4&u_java=1&u_h=800&u_w=1280&u_ah=770&u_aw=1280&u_cd=32&u_nplug=0&u_nmime=0&dff=arial&dfs=12&adx=317&ady=939&biw=1259&bih=606&oid=3&ref=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2Furl%3Fsa%3Dt%26rct%3Dj%26q%3D%26esrc%3Ds%26frm%3D1%26source%3Dweb%26cd%3D2%26ved%3D0CC4QFjAB%26url%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.marcellusshales.com%252Fshaleplays.html%26ei%3Da4cwT-nxKaPi0QGLnqHABw%26usg%3DAFQjCNGDeWSho0sYSRcWa4yGn2b9aeaR_g%26sig2%3D4sU0qtUE0TOgKh9GuiyQug&fu=0&ifi=6&dtd=984&xpc=GepxVjAW69&p=http%3A//www.marcellusshales.com&rl_rc=true&adsense_enabled=true&ad_type=text_image&oe=utf8&height=90&width=180&format=fp_al_lp&kw_type=radlink&prev_fmts=180x90_0ads_al_s&rt=ChBPMId5AAn_xAoquIOP5EikEglQbGF5IEdhbWUaCDRcYunRaM93KAEwA1ITCLL1u_njiq4CFcG7KgodCDFM7Q&hl=en&kw0=Barnett+Shale+Blog&kw1=HAYNESVILLE+Shale&kw2=Play+Game&okw=Play+Game} Yeah, don't click on it. It's not worth it. I went the next logical Google route (my eyes just rolled upon typing "Google" and "logical" in the same sentence) and went to this link...links that end in ".org" are legit, right? http://marcelluscoalition.org/ Ohhhhhh my head. Really? Me writing a blog entry about this stuff and you actually caring about it would be like me asking you to write about http://www.clubmarcella.com/Club_Marcella/home.html from 3,000 miles away and caring passionately and extensively. And I find it unacceptable! I will not let my blog be taken over by science and nature and environment and all that other "real world" happy horseshit. This is the place people come to when they want to shield themselves from all that for a few minutes! You wanna forget how miserable this world is sometimes, you don't turn on CNN. You watch your CSI and your Family Guy and your Two And A Half Men. And when you wanna see how your friends are livin' these days, you don't wanna read about their science experiments! You wanna hear about the family and the kids and the job, and you secretly hope they're just a little worse off just so your miserable life sounds a just a bit better but you know they're doin' ok and you're happy for them. So nope, not happenin'. Challenge today failed. The genres of this blog are Personal, Biographical, and Comedy. Science, nature, and anything else related? Sorry, you'll have to get them from somewhere else, lest I disappoint the other five or six of you out there that actually think my taste in humor is, in fact, funny. MUSICAL BREAK!! I'm going the Vlogcast route on this one. Seems to be some confusion, miscommunication, misdirection, etc. recently. Not toward me, but some of my friends have recently been getting the wrong impression from certain individuals. Without going into detail, there are some misguided sorts out there that have been acting a little out of place, and it can be hurtful to see good people feeling the wrath of others. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Byxi8gcNXxU&feature=fvsr VITAL STATS:  The really interesting thing about this Marcellus Shale thing? You can actually join these sites and log in and become a user or whatever. And you can follow them on Twitter! Uhhh, no, and thank you...and please don't request to follow me back. Yup, Target (the store) has some pretty sweet clearance deals. I got a pair of jeans and a pair of cargo pants for work for $20. justjessica1 got her boys a bunch of clothes for cheap. Not only did we get a hassle-free exchange on their Xmas present tv, I never realized how much they expanded their grocery department, or how reasonable 90% of their stuff was. Got most of the grocery shopping done there too. Still had to cross the street to get to Wegmans for some other stuff, but wow, impressive! I made an incredible chicken enchilada dinner today. Shredded the chicken (well, Jess did that part) and all. Homemade sour cream sauce, yeah. It was awesome.Alrightey, well, I'm off to waste time in other places. Be good to everyone else, ya hear? We'll do it again tomorrow...Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJSkrF8nhxg http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=endscreen&v=4e3-hJplPeI |
| THE PROMPT: "February 5, 2012 ~ 30-Day Blogging Challenge prompt is Free prompt" 'Sup players. I don't even know if that's the official prompt. I stole it from somebody else. I don't even know if we even have a contest going on this month. I thought we might have a month or two off to recharge, like last time. Instead, we barged right into it again. Not that I mind, but it's weird. It's weird because I agree with Julie D - PUBLISHED! 's post on the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" forum (it's not weird that I agree with my twin though)...30DBC Creator/Founder usually has a little run-up beforehand so we know when the next challenge starts. He has the forum ready. We move on with our lives for a month or so, and we jump back into this crazy blurry blogginess. We don't usually end a month and wake up to an email the next day saying you, you, you, you, you and you are calling the prompts for the next week. It's a little awkward, especially for the people who have already said they're not gonna be involved.So I don't know. Guess I'll keep makin' entries as long as people keep readin' 'em. And people keep readin' 'em, so that's cool. MUSICAL BREAK!! I've got nothin', but since I spent a little money on iTunes yesterday, I'll throw this one at ya. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_426RiwST8 VITAL STATS:  So I made a pretty badass soup today. How badass you say? Because every time I reached into the spice cabinet above the stove for something, something else would fall on me. And when I got pissed and threw it back in the cabinet, something else would fall on me. That's how you know it's a good soup. When your girlfriend's struttin' around the house naked after her shower and all you can do is yell at her to put some clothes on, you know that's a badass soup. When the gay men at the Super Bowl party claim they're afficionados of "potato soups" and proclaim yours to be very good, then that's one badass soup. When you pour bacon grease into a can, and the can wants no part of the grease? Badass soup, for real. Cheddar bacon potato soup killed it at the Super Bowl party I went to, yo. Straight killed it.  I would advise you all from staying away from the new Burger King "Toppers" sandwiches. I hadn't eaten all day; in fact, I slept a good chunk of it. But on the way to picking up justjessica1 from work, I decided that a dashboard meal would suit me. But BK changed their fries again. I used to love their fries. Now, not so much. And the stores with reader boards that advertise this "new bacon"? No. It's their same old shitty undercooked bacon, only it's thicker. And the "beef" patty is a little thicker than their "standard" "hamburger" patty. But the one I chose was loaded with ketchup and mayo. Not that I would've minded, but it was so poorly put together. And yes, I waited until I was parked to eat it, but damn, it was not comfortable eating it. At all. Y'all been warned. So yes, I spent the evening in the company of a few gay men, and it was a great time! I love my homos! For the unintiated folks in my webiverse, please read this entry regarding my status within the local gay community: "Not that there's anything wrong with that..." And that's it for tonight folks. Gonna make it a brand new day when I wake up tomorrow. Jess already wants to make the house keep smellin' like my soup, and make another batch. To that I say fine...just cook the bacon on the burner that heats up quicker...damn you, electric stove! Anyway, here's hoping your day was as "souper" as mine. Peace, love, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Trc-6BzFEUY&feature=fvwrel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOj487A-LQ0 |
| THE PROMPT: "Write your own inspirational quote which promotes health and fitness. Then sell it to the masses, tell why everyone should live by your words." Well, a good evening to all of you! I have one simple response to this prompt, and then one complicated one. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVq_VS7M-l4&feature=related The hurtful truth is, it works. And here's where it gets complicated. I was an athlete of sorts back in the day. I worked out often, and was a stunning 135 pounds. Ripped, and cut, and all of those other adjectives associated with nice-looking people. I was also a nerd, who couldn't buy the time of day from a lot of people. Looks win. Results on the wrestling mat? Not so much. As good as I was, I was also very geeky looking. Fast-forward to life ahead. This happens, and that happens, and shortly after that, life became something I could have a few beers to. I ballooned. I was near 150 lbs, and your workouts aren't helped by Gatorade spiked with vodka. At one point in my life, I got myself down to 128 lbs. Stress of a job can do that to ya. So can eating one (crappy) meal a day and having enough beer to comfortably put you to sleep at night...especially if the woman you dated was a psycho. That's also enough to drive you to the looney bin behavioral health unit. Your whole head spinning from the experience of dating a crazy broad, your boss giving you shit on a daily basis, your family is in turmoil...I literally drove myself to a hospital for help. The breakfast beers weren't doing the job, and the late nights out weren't helping either. That whole experience...crazy doesn't begin to define it. Nowadays, I'm back up to 160 lbs. I don't work out, and I blame justjessica1 and her fantastic cooking for that. I look healthy, instead of looking sick (as some people have claimed). And I still can enjoy some beverages from time to time. But that's not the weight-loss prevention kit that it used to be. This feels like I didn't satisfy the prompt, but it did share a need. I think there's still leftovers in the fridge. I haven't eaten all day. MUSICAL BREAK!! My boy Adam and I are meeting up to see this band. They were voted as one of the best Buffalo bands in 2011. I'm just excited to get out of the house for a night. Jess is meeting us there, at the best place in the city to see a show, http://themohawkplace.com/. Love it if you're a fan of Wilco... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiMIgANFqkE&feature=related VITAL STATS: There's a hockey game on!! I called in sick at work today. Daisy and Phil both told me I sounded like crap. I felt like crap, but got better with some sleep as the day went on. Congestion works wonders for your soul when your ears are plugged and can't hear anything when you're trying to go back to sleep. The problem lies in that once you've put in the effort to call in sick at work, you're too awake to get back to sleep. Sucks.Eh, I'm getting outta here. Too many decisions to make, and not enough time. Naptime didn't happen today, and neither did shower time. I need to eat something and do what I want to do. Peace and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GvHYzp7TcZQ&feature=related |
| THE PROMPT: "What is your favorite inspirational quote and why do you like this quote?" Well hello there, kind readers. Today's prompt could go many ways, but I'll share something I've had written and posted on a corkboard for many, many years. “One of the advantages of being disorganized is that one is always having surprising discoveries.” -A.A. Milne I was 22 or 23 at the time when I saw this quote and fell in love with it. Inspirational? Maybe, but unlikely to most. But to me, it was an adventure. Maybe an adventure of adventure-seeking, if nothing else. For the first time, I was truly on my own and left to my own devices. My tiny little apartment had cable, and that was it. I didn't have a computer. I had an old-school typewriter. I banged out some pretty good stuff on it too! I wish I still had it, actually. Anyway, I don't consider myself to be a disorganized person. I like to stay on top of where and when I have to be somewhere, and I prefer being punctual (although sometimes circumstances happen). I generally know where almost anything of mine is when I need it (and one exception seems to be clothes for work). I'm pretty good. I'm fairly neat with most of my things. I prefer to have as little clutter as possible. But sometimes, the garbage can gets a little too full. The folded laundry doesn't get put away. Empty beer cans tend to block the way to the real recyclables. CD's don't make it back into their homes. Everyday things can be cast aside, and why? Because you're making something amazing happen somewhere else in your life! Pure beauty can pull itself from utter chaos. Have you never misplaced something, only to find it under a stack of papers? Maybe left a 20-spot in your jeans, and it survived the spin cycle in the washer? Gone through that basket of folded laundry to find the one t-shirt you desperately wanted to wear? Threw out a reciept for an item you purchased, but come to find you need to return it? That's the power of disorganization for you. Well, at least for me it is. MUSICAL BREAK!! "I'm just a gravel-trail type of man" might be a good way to describe me. This song reeks of disorganization. Most of you have never heard it and probably won't like it. You might think that there are better songs I could've chosen, but what better way is there to find yourself than to lose yourself first? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAFD5rMd6rk Trust me, you'll be repeating the moral at the end of the song, if you make it that far. VITAL STATS: Our house was built in the late '50's, maybe the early '60's. The original couple that bought the house lived in it all the way up until a few years ago. It was purchased then by a local businessman so he could rent it out. Long story short, that's how we fell into it. It's a nice brick ranch, and it's barely been removed from its origins. The kitchen counter and cabinets are original. The dining room/living room rug has gotta be original...if not replaced once. The kitchen floor is original. The bathroom tiles on the wall, as well as the sink and its fixtures, are original. Well, until now. The ceramic handle on the bathroom sink's hot water knob cracked, and took the screw with it last night. No hot water from the bathroom sink for now. That sucks. The 15 seconds it took to run to the downstairs bathroom from upstairs, then brush my teeth, then run the 15 seconds back upstairs and put my toothbrush away...made me one minute late for work. Ugh. Better than the ten minutes I might be tomorrow though...unless I text the other management member on duty at 7:50am and pull my "I'm gonna work 10-6 today instead of 8-4" shenanigans. But I probably won't do that.*hockeyemoticontestrun* Via Brother Nature : . I like it. Julie D - PUBLISHED! is down with it. Now, WDC, I implore you to make something official!! While you read Brother Nature , we'll do a case campaign. Emoticons are cool, and they work, but it's gotta fit on the WDC portfolio case. Well job anyways, Joel!  If you don't know who A.A. Milne is, congratulations! You had an even worse childhood than I did!  That's it from me for tonight, good people. Get your friday on! I'm gonna get a shower on and relax a little before getting up in the morning for a fun little dance I like to call "work in the morning". Alright y'all...peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hksn2OIx1O0 |
| THE PROMPT: "FREE TOPIC DAY" Good evening everyone! It's Free Topic Day! Topics are free! In honor of both the unofficial national holiday and Bill Murray movie of the same name, Groundhog Day, I'm gonna write about the same thing as yesterday! Blogging! No I'm not. I'm terrified of having to write about it again, actually. What I'm gonna do over here is turn "Free Topic Day" into "topic-free day" instead, and speak to you all about a little situation that happened in these parts that we'll refer to as "Monday", if that's ok with you. Well, actually, even if it's not, here we go. I'm not even going to get into the back-story of this, ahem, story. All I will say is that justjessica1 has been using the same phone since before I started stalking her we began talking about the possibility of me ever asking her out on a date (and if you're keeping score at home, that's over three and a half years of commitment to a single cellular phone). She was finally eligible for an upgrade in November. After plenty of discussions, searching the internet, reviewing her options, we decided finally to go out and take a look. (That last sentence? That all happened Monday from around Noon-4pm). Mind you, this is all she's known for, well, for arguement's sake let's just call it four years: {link:http://www.google.com/products/catalog?hl=en&tok=UKXl2Nuu1FRaoDrpJYBGyg&cp=11&gs_id=10&xhr=t&q=samsung+alias&gs_upl=&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.,cf.osb&biw=1280&bih=610&wrapid=tljp1328227745032018&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbm=shop&cid=4751851620495724791&sa=X&ei=oCUrT5zDOMqBgweYisjkDw&sqi=2&ved=0CGYQ8wIwAg#} Yeah, I Google'd it. Why? Cuz it's so damn old it's no longer on Verizon's website. Note the date of the review: November of 2006. I know kids that had that phone at the same time who are already on their 3rd iPhone. Yeesh! But anyway... She wanted to upgrade, of course, to a smartphone. But she was afraid of the whole touchscreen deal. And I have a smartphone, but it's not a touchscreen, so I was, as usual, of little use to her. She narrowed down her choices to five (five??), no wait, six (six?!?) that she could upgrade to for free. Five because that's how many she could fit on Verizon's comparison page that she printed up, plus one Blackberry. I was rootin' hard for the underdog Blackberry. Why? Because I have one and I'm familiar with it. **Stares at Android** There was no freakin' way we were going to the Verizon store, which was roughly halfway between our house and the mall. The customer service there is just plain awful. Talk about high pressure when they know they can get you, and not giving a flying fuck about you when you're not eligible for an upgrade. So we went to that other bastion of customer service at the mall, Best Buy. (And hey, I've got nice things to say about them...they sold me this here laptop that allows you the reader and myself the communicator to, uhhhh, communicate together. And they did a fine job on the transaction.) Being that Jess and I both work in retail and speak very highly of our levels of customer service awesomeness (well, Jess is, actually, awesome), maybe we're biased when it comes to the customer service we receive. We got off to a rough start here. As soon as the guy asks us if we need help, his teenybopper coworker throws herself at him and gives him a big hug. Ugh. And the whole secondary purpose of this trip was to see the phones and touch them and see how they respond to Jess' fingertips. The only feature, besides being bolted to a counter and that cord-thingey, on all of these phones? They were plastic, non-working display-only models. Not cool. The guy at Best Buy wrests himself away from this chick long enough to tell us that the Verizon store within the mall has real, working phones, and actually tells us to go there. So we did. And all of their phones are live. Sweet! Only, they had a total of zero phones Jess was interested in. All the phones she saw on the website? Yup, through Verizon, they're only available for free on the website. No luck there. Back to Best Buy. We asked Johnny Huggable about touch screens, and how important it was to try one. He said they're basically all the same, which I agreed with, and made a few points I had made in our phone powwow before we left for the mall. He wouldn't power one up for us, but he let Jess tinker around on his phone. We had almost settled on a specific one after talking about it, but something didn't feel right. I knew Jess would want to have a physical keyboard as well. And they had a touchscreen phone with a slide-out keyboard. For $100. She'd said she'd pay $50, but no way was she paying $100. Johnny Huggable and I immediately gravitated to the $100 phone, and Jess loved it. Can you say "conundrum"? Johnny Huggable has seen us walk out of his store once, and the only way he was gonna let us walk out again was with a new phone. So he made a phone call. He says Radio Shack has the same phone for free on a two-year upgrade. He's gonna get his boss' approval to match it. Boss says yes! Done deal! Sign the paperwork! Let's eat! Figuring that might be a few minutes, I was headed off to the music section...before I got a brilliant idea. Radio Shack was only a few stores over...could we see if they have a working one, just to be sure? Johnny Huggable was all for it. So off we went. Radio Shack. The one person working was ringing someone else out. No big. We wait by the also-inoperable phones, hoping he'll pull a working one out of his magic phone sack for us. And as the other customer walks out, another walks in. And in failing to acknowledge us before this new customer, we did what the person walking out was doing as well. Sign us up, Johnny!! It's not often that I say this (so pay attention), but, when I got bored in the music section, I went back over to check on them. Jess, ever the conversationalist, already knows where this guy works at his other job, they've already established a mutual friend, Jess' life story is coming out, this guy's life story is coming out, and there still isn't a newly-activated phone. We went from "estimated time: done" to "estimated wait: one hour". Why an hour? Because Johnny Huggable was gonna have this girl a pro at her new phone when we walked out also. Otherwise, all night it'd be one question after another about a device I'm unfamiliar with. See why I was rootin' hard for the Blackberry? Ask him anything and everything, honey. Cuz on top of not knowing much about it, it's also going to be 9pm by the time we get home. Did I mention we set out around 4pm?When all was finally said and done, final thank-you's and handshakes later, it was damn near 8pm, and we still hadn't eaten. I won't even get into that chore. I'm a slow eater, so if I finish before you, them's problems. Time upon arrival at our final destination of home? Just after nine. And we only live about 10 minutes from the mall. Understandable, Jess played with her phone all through dinner and the way home. Kid-with-a-new-toy Syndrome, I think it's called. Setting ringers, "what's this, what's that?", all the features...yup, those are the symptoms. All I said was "You better learn how to set the alarm". The look I got suggested that I had asked her to do work at the "New Phone" Country Club.The abbreviated evening home was relatively painless. Once she figured out how to use Facebook on it, she was pretty satisfied. And ladies, there's nothing more romantic than commenting on your boyfriend's status from the living room while he's on his laptop in the basement. Our story doesn't end there, folks. Stay tuned for a (much shorter) second part after the break.MUSICAL BREAK!!: I may have used this track during the very first "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" I was in, but most of you weren't a part of it, so it's like it never existed. Hell, some of you probably didn't exist when this song was popular either. But it fits. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkS0XApMJuEAhhh, boy bands. On American Bandstand. Yes, that actually happened. VITAL STATS: So I pick Jess up from work yesterday, and she declares "I've got Angry Birds!" You know, the game you launch birds into structures and stuff. I've seen it, I've heard of it, but I never played it. Well, she got stuck on a level, let me try it, and she's been hiding her phone from me ever since. Yup, I'm addicted. Exactly the reason why I'll never play "Words With Friends". (All in good fun) One of my superiors at work, in the last two days, has called me a fuckin' jerk, told me to fuck off, and then, when I was telling the story about this to our boss, proceeded to call me a liar. I must be doin' somethin' right! That's the reward for cleaning up her mess, and suggesting after she split her pants that instead of going home to change, she just wear a pair of Pajama Jeans. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HD9BmRtdSs) How did I not win Employee Of The Month this month?? And then I saw this... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ttoitpdbbak...and I'm hereby authorizing you to kill me without question if I ever stoop to this. Got it? GOT IT??Ok folks, that's enough fun for tonight. Thanks for lettin' me kill more than a couple minutes of your time. We'll do it again tomorrow, won't we? Alright. Well, y'all have a fun night, be good to one another, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WNrx2jq184 |
| THE PROMPT: "Define blogging." Good evening everyone! Whew...just when I thought I was done with the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , they wasted no time in starting up another one. Eh, it keeps me off the streets...for a little while at least. Hopefully, this one won't end up being as depressing as the last challenge ended. I don't consider the "serial" format to be my strongest category.I've written about the subject in the prompt a few times here and there I'm sure. And I've probably given a different answer each time . Do I think I've been asked to define it? Do I qualify to make definitions, or am I just relating my opinion of its definition? Ok, all right already, I'll stop stalling...It's an online journal of thoughts, basically. It can be about anything, or nothing at all. Or, in my case, you type words and keep the ones that stick. Sports, movies, music, your family...any topic of relevance can be blogged about (with varying degrees of relevancy). For me, it's a way to tell a funny soliloquy from my day, share a little music, talk about whatever's on my mind, and, usually, all of the above. It's a free-form way of sharing information, thoughts, feelings and observations. Plain and simple. No need for me to smother it with the awesomesauce. MUSICAL BREAK!! They've finally updated the playlist at work, and, well, it still sucks, so I'm not gonna play anything from that. I suppose with it being February, I could try to do a month's worth of love songs like I did in December with Christmas music...but that would get boring quick. I'm gonna go with this because their new album is coming out soon, it's a lot better than most of the stuff they've released in the last 10 years, they're coming to town soon (not that I can remember how many times I've seen them, but hey, ya never know), and a buddy of mine posted it on Facebook the other day. Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OfwPGZxIXz4&ob=av2e VITAL STATS: I'm already looking forward to tomorrow's open prompt. I have a story from the other day I can't wait to share... but i couldn't during the serial prompt portion of January's challenge. In a fried chicken challenge, Banquet Fried Chicken from the supermarket beats KFC, hands down. I hadn't had Banquet in years, and it was tasty. KFC I might eat once a year, if that. And every damn tiime I eat KFC, I'm reminded why it's been so long since I last had it. {e:Another month without a hockey emoticon?? Really??} Sabres played a pretty good 65 minutes of hockey against a Rangers team near the top of the standings, but lost in the shootout to the Rangers. It was the first game in the NHL all season that ended in regulation tied at zero, according to the lame ass Versus NBCSN postgame host.  Just a teaser for tomorrow...I know I'm a little late to the party, but I'm officially in love with Angry Birds.Alrightey people, I've got about 20 emails to get through from the end of the January challenge...dunno when they'll announce the winners, and I'm not gonna speculate where I stand. I don't think I'm the winner, and I'm not really about winning it anyway. Although, it'd be nice to defend my title. But we'll see. We'll do it all again tomorrow! Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyyKh6Bmzbw&feature=related |
| THE PROMPT: "Conclusion of the story." Chet tried to steady himself at his bed. He was going to take a sleeping pill and make one final phone call to his ex-boss to tell him what he really thought of him. For once, he knew exactly what to say and how to say it, and he knew he wouldn't be interrupted at all...it was after midnight, and nobody checks their voicemail until at least 6am. Cowardly? Yes, but he knew little else. He reached across himself for the nightstand, where his pills were, and loosened the cap as he reached for the phone. As he tried to pop a pill into his mouth while balancing the phone against his ear, he was unaware how close to the edge of the bed he was as he shifted his weight over. A drunk man balancing a pill bottle, his weight and a phone receiver in the dark is not the recipe for a good night's sleep. Chet felt himself hit the ground, starting to feel tangled up in the long phone cord, but the relaxedness of the pill combined with his intoxication made him want to fight the urge to free himself and sleep on the bed. Three days later, Depew was feeling a little guilty about their previous encounter. He was also a little curious as to what Chet was up to, since he hadn't really seen him around. But what Depew really wanted to know: was Chet interested in paying for another week's stay? He tried calling a few times throughout the day, but the line was busy, so he figured he'd run over and knock on his door. He knocked and waited. Knocked, waited. Pounded. Shouted. Waited. Disturbed, he went back to his office to get the master key for all of the rooms. There was Chet, sprawled on the floor, blue from a phone cord wrapped around his neck. Depew kneeled down on one knee, said a short, silent prayer, and went to his office to call the police. The public will know this to be the second mysterious death involving Brad Depew. The police report will read "accidental suicide". But the few that truly knew Chet Smythe knew one thing about his final, secluded days...he died from a broken heart. |
| The next morning, Chet woke up realizing he was probably going to miss his bus to work. Since the next one would make him almost two hours late, he thought he could maybe use this week as a chance to take some of his vacation time. So he called his boss...and he was not as forgiving as he was the day before. "Dammit, Chet. No. NO! Enough is enough! I don't know what's gotten into you lately...your performance is down, you've been calling in sick a lot more lately, and the guys are really starting to wonder about you. And you knew the bigwigs are coming! Frankly, I've had it. You either get your ass in here, or you're gone!!" This seemed to almost relieve Chet. "Sir," he explained, "there's no way I'll be able to come in today. I'm-" And that's all his boss needed to hear. "You leave me no choice, Mr. Smythe. You're FIRED! Reason being: poor performance and abandonment of basic responsibilities pertaining to your job." After an exasperated huff, Chet tried to reason with him. "But sir, I-" and before he could even try to recalibrate his thoughts, his boss interrupted him and shouted, "NO! We're through here. Your final paycheck will be mailed to you. Good day!" Chet waited at the other end to see if his boss was still there. After another minute of silence, he softly sighed and hung up at the phone. On one hand, he thought, this could be a good thing...he was starting to grow tired with his job anyway, and maybe this was a total fresh start. On the other hand, what if he didn't qualify for unemployment? What if he couldn't find a job right away? Then what? His relief was quickly replaced with an almost manic stress. He didn't wait for the urge to go back to sleep to overtake him. He was going to shower, get ready, and pound the pavement looking for anything. Any kind of job for the time being. But first, he wanted to see Mr. Depew about the tv again. He arrived at Depew's office just as Depew was opening up. Not sensing this could be a bad time, Chet follwed him in. "Sir, it's about that tv..." "Listen boy," Depew said, with more than a tinge of anger in his voice, "I ain't got time for this now. Did you plug the damn thing in and turn it on right away?" After telling him he did, Depew's voice got even hotter. "You can't be doin' that with the tv right away after bringin' it in from the cold. These old tv's need to be sittin' in the room. I can't just be goin' out and findin' you a tv every other day when you decide to fry it. Now go on before I-" "But sir, I-" Chet paused, realizing that he had little to say and wasn't going to be cut off. "I'm just letting you know. I won't ask you to get one right away, but when you can. Maybe you can take a little off my room rate for the time being?" Mr. Depew got livid. "Are you kiddin' me? You rentin' a room or a tv? My signs don't say 'includes tv'. You get a bed and running water, heat, and a local phone. You're lucky I even pay someone to clean the sheets on that bed and all. Now why don't you just stop there, and take your ass outta my office." And then it hit Chet...maybe he could do odd jobs around the property for awhile, if not for money, for maybe a small cut off his room rate. "Sir, maybe I can wash the sheets. I'll do anything you need. Handiwork, repairs, clean-up. Do you need an extra hand? I'd even be willing to do it for a share of board." Depew just shook his head and pounded his fist on the counter. "If you EVER think I'm gonna hire a MURDERER to work under my name, you're SADLY MISTAKEN. It's bad enough I let you stay here, but if you think for ONE SECOND I'm gonna give you a dime, or even trust that you would do anything around here FOR ANYTHING, you're way outta your damned mind!" Depew was shaking at this point, and his eyes began to well up ever-so-slightly. Chet's heart dropped. He was shaken and confused. "Wh-WHAT? I'm no murderer! I've never once killed anyone!" Depew took a deep breath and a step back. He pulled a dead carnation out of the vase on the back counter that was kept next to a tiny picture of his daughter. With a hushed tone, he spoke. "I believe that if it was not for you...the way you treated my Alice, the way you took her out and got her drunk and messed up, and broke her heart time and time again, she would have never left. Had she never left...had she stayed here, she would've never gotten involved with all the filth and slime afterwards. You drove her to this, and maybe it don't stand up in a court of law, and I can't do nothin' to bring her back, but it's not gonna stop me from sayin', deep in my gut, that you are just as responsible for her death, if not moreso, than anyone else." Chet, as usual, had little to say. He felt all the hurt and resentment of Depew, and it was tying knots in his stomach. He didn't know what to say or do, so he did like he always did. He shuffled, looked up one last time at Depew's face, turned, and walked away. He made it back to his room. He didn't want to shower, but he didn't want these feelings to consume him all day either. But in his head, he played it back and forth. That was the game Chet was always best at. He'd have arguements in his head with whatever and/or whoever was bothering him. Fights about jobs, fights with friends who had felt he wronged them, fights with women...anything to be able to say what exactly he wished he would've been able to say when it was right to say it. He was so good at this because he was always one step behind in the points he would try to make, and could never get the upper-hand. While in the shower, he let this way of thinking get the best of him. He analyzed every angle of the talk he had with Depew earlier. He matched him point-counterpoint, just to get him off the defensive. He knew the right things to say, even though it was too late. He also knew Depew's stubbornness, and that maybe now was still too soon to address it. Good enough, he thought, as it would provide a little ambition to see what kind of jobs were out there. The sun was no match for the bitter cold. That's winter in Walden for ya, he thought. He decided he'd try the diner first. He made his basic pitch to the waitress after she brought him a coffee, in hopes to get some facetime in with the owner. But she wasn't interested...it was a family-run business, and openings are only reserved for nieces and nephews and other family members. Chet finished his coffee, left a tip and made his way out. The next stop would be the Mini-Mart next door. He knew he was gonna stop there anyway for a couple of duece-dueces and something quick for dinner. As he was cashing out, he noticed the counter help was also the assistant manager. Chet figured this would be the perfect time to inquire about a position. "Sorry dude," said the half-stoned 20-something, "we're good right now, but you can fill out the application on the counter." Chet grabbed one and headed back to his room, not liking his chances. He wasn't even hungry for dinner, and it was almost 6pm. Depew's office light was already off, so there was no more talking to him today. Well, here goes, he thought, and cracked his first beer. That got him through the day's newspaper. Cracked a second, and drew up a blueprint of what he would say to Depew tomorrow. On this third, he was reliving all of his past relationships and their failures. Most of them, upon a bigger-picture analysis, came down to him screwing it up. Chet's fourth was spent summing up that his best chance in a relationship, and probably in life, was with Alice. Sure, maybe he'd be working in a cheap motel for her father, but he'd be doing something, and maybe he'd be running it by now instead. Number five...he wrote a sloppy love letter/apology to Alice, and realized much to his own chagrin that she'd never see it. Duh, she was dead. He giggled a little at his own stupidity. He downed a sixth on the way back to the Mini-Mart to get two more duece-dueces. Going from dimly-lit room, to 10:30pm dark-of-night, to a brightly lit convenience store was a little much for the already intoxicated Chet. What Chet also failed to realize was that cashing him out was someone who he had asked about employment a few hours back, and there he was, barely able to get the money out of his wallet to pay for his purchase. His employability really took a hit there. He made it back to his room, leaning against the door while trying to unlock it. After a few struggles, he was in and spending his seventh beer laughing at himself over how stupid he's been all night. And that's when Chet stood up, wobbled, and fell back down. The lights were making trails in his vision...he'd close his eyes for what felt like 10 seconds, and minutes would come off the clock. He'd open them, wobble a few steps, reverse his direction uncontrollably, right himself, fall, and repeat this process a few more times, until he made it 15 feet to the other side of the room so he could enjoy his last beer in bed. Hell, he didn't have to work in the morning, so why not? This gave Chet a tiny sentiment of pleasure. But there was one last thing he thought needed to do before he could end his night... |
| THE PROMPT: "Clue or clues as to why the dead _____________ is inside that room." After a night spent ignoring all of the winter storm warnings for the area, Chet awoke to nearly a foot of snow on the ground. Sensing the sidewalks were going to be a mess, he decided it'd be the perfect opportunity to call in sick for work. "Maybe it's what I need to ease my mind a little bit," he said to himself as he picked up the phone. Work was slow this time of year anyway, so he didn't think it'd be a problem. His boss, on the other hand, was not pleased. "Dammit, Smythe...you know the bigwigs are gonna be in town next week! We're shorthanded as it is, and now this. This is just great. You plannin' on comin' in tomorrow?" "Yeah, yeah, I'll be in tomorrow. Just, with moving, and the weather, I can't do it today." Chet stuttered. He always knew the words...studying them over and over in his head. But when it came time for him to commit them to his voice, they always seemed to fail him. "Well, rest up and I'll see you tomorrow." His boss seemed a little less upset. "We've got a big week ahead, so no excuses. Our clients are here first thing in the morning, and they go through the same snowstorm you would." And as abrubtly as his boss ended the conversation, Chet had rolled over and was back asleep. Around 11am, Chet decided to get up and take another look out the window. It had stopped snowing, and the motel lot was being plowed. He figured now was as good a time as any to see if there was anything the motel staff could do about his television. He made his way over to the office, and paused to look into the window first to make sure someone was there. The old man behind the counter seemed familiar, but Chet was too preoccupied with what he was going to say to him to realize any more than that. He exhaled deeply and made his way into the office. "Yeah?" the man asked curtly. He seemed to make Chet nervous right off the bat. "M-m-my tv in room 3...it's not working." The old man didn't seem to mind. "Yeah? Well, whaddya want me to do about it?" Chet didn't have a response for that question ready. "I- I don't know. Can it be replaced? The old man snickered. "Boy, you think I just store tv's here? You think I got a damn warehouse full of tv's? Huh. Tell you what, let me call my guy and see what I can do. I'll call you back this afternoon." Chet nodded and thanked him, and clumsily made his way out. He noticed a diner across the street of the motel's lot, and figured it was time for a decent cup of coffee. Crossing the busy street was difficult enough without a foot of snow on the ground. Chet nearly slipped three times across those four lanes before finding the front door. It hit him almost as instantly as the heat from the diner did when he walked in...Mr. Depew! The motel manager! That was Mr. Depew! But his excitement at remembering who that familiar face was faded about as quickly as his coffee came. And with that first sip came the realizations that this was not the place to get a decent cup off coffee, and he wasn't gonna see a television anytime soon. Brad Depew had two qualities Chet could distinctly remember...his temper, and the way he was overprotective of his daughter, Alice. Alice was beautiful and smart, but shy and easily manipulated. Brad had raised her on his own after questionable circumstances surrounding her mother's passing. It was one of the few secrets in a part of Walden where everybody knew what the neighbors were up to. Chet and Alice dated off and on throughout high school, with the relationship culminating at their senior prom. But Mr. Depew grew tired of the lack of commitment on Chet's behalf, plus the fact that Chet was taking Alice out on the weekends to parties with people he felt were of ill-repute. Alice as well grew tired of Chet's infidelity and lack of seriousness, and ended the relationship along with the summer. She didn't want to be stuck with someone at home while she went away to college. Chet tried to talk her back into his arms one more time, but the power of leaving Walden once and for all was just too strong for Alice to pass up. Not liking his chances at the motel with Mr. Depew, Chet stopped at the mini-mart next to the diner for a newspaper, some Hot Pockets and a couple of duece-dueces. The streets had been plowed and salted, making for a slightly easier trek home. As he fished for his room key, he saw a note on his door. It read: "Rm.3- tv. Please come to the office." Chet was curious, so he hurriedly threw his purchase into the room, locked it back up and headed down to see Mr. Depew. He entered the office and nervously rang the bell. Mr. Depew came from the back and said, "Listen, Smythe. I got a hold of my guy and he found a tv. You just gotta gimme a hand gettin' it over to your room." Chet looked at him with a mixture of shock and relief. "You- you remember me, Mr. Depew?" "Yeah, I do, Smythe. Save the nostalgia trip and grab a side of this tv." Yup, he didn't seem as excited as Chet. As they shimmied down to Chet's room, Chet was awkward with the silence. Depew helped him get the tv inside and carry the old one out to the dumpster. Chet invited him back in and asked him if there was anything he could do for Mr. Depew in appreciation for resolving the tv issue. Depew looked around and saw the beer. "I'll take one of those," he said, and helped himself to a duece-duece. He sat down and cracked it, relieved that he was done with doing work a 70-year-old shouldn't be doing. Chet grabbed one also and sat across from him. He was never good at conversation with people he wasn't familiar with, and worse with people that were familiar with him for the wrong reasons. "Uhhhh, soooooo, how's Alice?" He'd always assumed that she'd met someone in college, settled down, and never returned to Walden with any fanfare. The college was in California, and it was the only one that would give her a scholarship. She wanted to go for drama, having dabbled a little in theater during her teens. After what they'd been through growing up, it wasn't much of a surprise to Chet that he hadn't heard from her, even though he'd never forgotten about her. "Listen son," Depew said as he put his beer down, "Alice is gone." "Gone? Where?" Chet was confused. Depew stood up, fixed his jacket, and said, "After she got on that damn tv show, she was hangin' around everyone. Those star types, those actors, those drug dealers. She OD'd a year after she got that role on that show. Never watched it. Couldn't stand the thought. And I was right." Depew's anger was getting more and more visable. Chet's jaw hit the floor. "I had no idea, sir...she was famous? And now...now, she's...dead?" If Depew hadn't just moved two tv's he may have had the strength to slap Chet five across the face. "Famous my ass! She was in L.A. and on tv. You don't become famous at that age until you die. 27 they say, that's the age." Depew sat down again, just to retie his boots. "I never knew, sir," said Chet, "but when did this happen?" Depew exhaled, exasperated. "My own papa died a year after she left for college, and left me this dump. Had to quit my job as a programmer to take care of this place. Soon as Alice graduated, she went on tryout after tryout. She called one day to tell me about some tv comedy show they were gonna give her a part on. Was the last time I cried...my little girl. Happy as hell for her, meanwhile, I got this," as he turned and pointed at the motel walls. "Didn't hear from her for awhile...'til I heard from the coroner." Chet was about to express his concern when Depew interrupted him. "Had to sell the house and everything. When her tuition bills got out of hand, I moved here. She took everything with her, just about." "Everything?" Chet managed to sneak out. "Well, damn near it. 'Cept a box of mementos I found when I was movin' here. There was a dozen carnations pressed out, so I went to the dollar store and got a bunch of vases. Put one in every room." He started making his way to the door. "Hope that tv works for ya." Stunned, Chet stopped him. "Sir, were those-" "Yeah, they were yours. From the prom. She loved you, boy. Loved you. I don't know that she ever loved again." And with that, he left. Chet didn't know what to think. He had nothing to say, and even if he did he had no one to say it to. He went to take care of Depew's beer can, to find that there was only a sip missing. He sat down, turned on the old tv Depew's guy found for him, and another hum and a pop later, figured he was better off downing that beer in the silence of his thoughts. |
| THE PROMPT: "Inside the rental, character discovers a dead _______________." Chet couldn't wait to sit down and figure out where next this journey would take him. He figured it'd be best to stay on his own for awhile. The weekly rate at the Pink Flamingo was reasonable enough, and it was on the bus route back to Walden, so his commute wasn't too compromised. And he'd been through it all with the relationships he'd had over the last two decades...why should he stress out in another one, at the age of 42 and having no semblance of being settled? He needed to reestablish his place in society, he thought to himself as he turned the key. As he walked in, he couldn't help but feel the sag in his shoulders as he set his bags down. His heart sunk further into his abdomen...this clearly was not what he had imagined. This place hadn't been updated in almost thirty years! Dingy brown walls, a single twin bed, tattered yellow curtains, an old RCA tv, stains everywhere imaginable (and otherwise), and a slight odor to the room that one could only describe as "regret". Or as Chet thought, a one night stand mixed with death, left to percolate for well past the freshness date. He sat down at the rickety table, too tired to unpack. Figuring it'd be his only company for awhile, he turned on the tv...a hum and a pop made him reconsider, as the tv was obviously also on its last legs. Knowing how late it was, and management wouldn't be able to just bring him another tv, he pulled out his discman and prepared himself for a night of letting the music take him over...away from his misery, and away from the night itself. He cracked a duece-duece and got about as comfortable as one could get in that chair, reading the day's news in print form. No sooner did he turn the page then did he notice the vase on the counterspace by the "kitchen-like" area of the room. Next to the single-cup coffee pot and the conventional microwave that was bolted down to the counter, there was a small vase with a single dead carnation limping over its side. Chet was taken aback by this...how could this have not been cleaned up? But then again, his expectations had suffered blows since the minute he walked in, and wasn't as surprised. Without another thought, he was gonna let that duece-duece and newspaper calm himself to sleep, and see the manager as soon as he got home from work in the afternoon about the tv. |
| THE PROMPT: "Character rents a room. Provide geographic setting, please." The inner-ring suburbs aren't what they used to be, that's for sure. They once were the American dream to hundreds of thousands of families hoping to escape the fear and omniscence of the urban decay they had the presence of mind to forsee. These were the new lands of white picket fences and two-car garages. The backyards yawned with the freedom of your children playing joyously with other neighbor's kids. But not for Chet Smythe. To him, it was a mirror of his childhood. A man born a decade too late and already seemingly in debt because of his name, he was hoping this new life in the inner-ring was his first step out. Once he checked in to that cheap motel, he realized he wasn't only mistaken, but somehow let down again by his decision-making. Determined to build a life on his own, and not at the feet of anyone else, Chet thought it might be time to finally leave the city that raised him. Everything was brighter, cleaner, smaller, in East Walden. His sales job had taken him many places, yet he was always ending up back in Walden, the shell of a beautiful, vibrant city gone to dust as the steel mills closed and drove the population down to less-desirable crowd. You know, the ones who could only afford to live there and nowhere else. As he was making his way to his room at The Pink Flamingo, Chet saw everything he thought he was leaving behind...the prostitutes, the addicts between the rows of rooms, the spray-painted vignettes and odes to "The E-Wal", the cops slowly driving by. It wasn't quite the "brighter, cleaner" image he was used to. It also wasn't the fifties and sixties anymore, either. "Meet your new life..." Chet thought to himself, "...same as the old life." |
| THE PROMPT: "Write about what one would see in your closet right now. What's the most valuable thing you keep inside of it that didn't come from a store?" Hey everyone! What's the good word? Pretty much the same thing over here. No worries at the moment, so life is good. Be prepared for what could possibly be the most boring entry ever in the history of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . What's in my closet? Clothes and shoes. And belts. And ties. And a backpack. That's it.Actually, no, that's not it. Technically I've got three closets. My clothes closet in the hallway by the bedrooms, a tool closet in the basement, and kind of a cubby, with shelves, but big enough to be a closet. The tool closet is on one end of The ManCave, right under the stairs. I guess you could say I share it with justjessica1. Come to think of it, I may not even have much of anything in there. My tool box is in the upstairs front closet on the shelf under the jackets we rarely wear. Let me check...yup, the only belongings of my own in there are a roll of packing tape, a window insulating kit I bought years ago for 542 (my old apartment, for those who don't know what 542 is), and some tap lights I also bought for 542. Nothing of any value to me. However, Jess' tool box was a gift from her parents when she went out on her own. I'm sure it has plenty of value to her; it's one of those nice, thick plastic rugged ones, with an engraved nameplate on it. There are two types of people in this world: those who break things, and those who fix things. I'm definitely the breaker, and she's certainly the fixer. The cubby in the opposite corner of The ManCave has a large and a small file cabinet with documents, warranties and other types of statements and paperwork. The small cabinet also has some things from Jess' boys when they were little, so I'm sure that means something to her. The shelves are big enough and deep enough to store our luggage. But behind the small file cabinet is a box. And inside that box is every card, note, memento or significant little gift Jess has ever given to me...from the first time she wrote her phone number down for me all the way to the card from this past Christmas. Of all three closets, that may be worth more than all the shoes, clothes, belts, ties and tools combined. Other than that box, I never really kept many things of value to me in a closet. I used to keep them in a drawer, but that was back at 542, when I had a third dresser. I know, I'm a guy and all, but I have a lot of clothes. I actually own more clothes than Jessica. I think it's just because I have a hard time parting with clothes I like. Now I'm down to two dressers, one closet, three drawers under the bed and a trunk at the foot of the bed (the top of which serves to store more clothes), and I still have clean clothes in laundry baskets that don't really have a home. Did I mention I usually have nothing to wear ? All of that after we moved here and I started to go through my clothes to see what I could donate to Amvets. Guess it's time to go through them again. Wow...an entire entry that went from the contents of my closet to the clothes I wear (and I'm almost positive I've worn 90-95% of every piece of clothing I've owned in the last two years). Yup, this kid's got the life. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqhZVs-MSGU MUSICAL BREAK!! Other than that Eminem song about his closet, anyone know any decent songs about closets? Yup, me neither. I'd play ya that one, but it's in the bylaws of this here interwebs connectivity stopover that the posting of songs by Eminem are not allowed for the sole purpose of sharing content related to the written materials. It's all here in this entry, titled "This one's about the bylaws." You can find a a read-only file in this section of my port...just look for the folder with "This Is A Fancier Way Of Saying I've Got $5 That Says Julie D - PUBLISHED! Posted That Eminem Song In Her Entry" in it. That folder does allow ratings and comments.So in lieu of that...your default iPod Classic on shuffle selection is... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05iKNr25FDY Yup, that might be me on occasion at karaoke, just like that. The belly-rub at the 2:46 mark is pretty epic. VITAL STATS:  Yes, that's the Beastie Boys backing up the Biz, for the record. Sad day in TV land today...Robert Hegyes, the guy who played Juan Epstein on "Welcome Back, Kotter", was found dead at age 60. This is significant in that when I was five or six, I had a pair of sneakers that were themed after the tv show, and all around the side of the sole it read "Up your nose with a rubber hose." No joke. Tomorrow starts the serial prompts for the challenge, or as I like to call it, the "part where I have to think longer than it takes to write a regular entry" portion. I fear this.Yup, like I said, another boring day. Not so tomorrow...on top of the above-mentioned entry, I can't forget all of the errands and chores I have planned for myself after taking Jess to work at 7am (so much for sleeping in on my day off). Returning the shoes I bought at Kohl's a few weeks ago (finally), doing my taxes, a little bill paying and some housework...yup. Can't wait. Anyway, I'm gonna move on for tonight and see what the cool kids are up to. Y'all take it easy...GOODNIGHT NOW!!http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pqr24Mfbw2g |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
I'm glad you read and enjoyed this, Ann...I know if I were ever presented with the same situation again I wouldn't be as uncomfortable. It's amazing to see how things have changed in five years...I can only imagine how much perception has changed over the last 50. I've always felt that gays were no more or no less than anyone else, and you're absolutely right that they are just like everyone else in 99% of activities. And if that 1% is what creeps people out, well, it's none of their business anyway...and there are better, more tactful ways to respond than with hatred.
