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Rated: 18+ · Book · Personal · #1762035
A little bit of everything, colored my own way.
WDC's Longest Running Blog Competition - Hiatus

BLOG CHALLENGE WINNER FOR SEPTEMBER 2011 AND APRIL 2012!!
** Image ID #1901871 Unavailable **


7/08 Just a shot of me outside.

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??

A gift from Julie D for being named Honorable Mention for Best Blog in the Quill Awards!

We're gonna find out one way or another! *Wink*
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
Pic sent to me awhile ago...long story behind it.
"Can't you count to one??"

My composition book image from Leger's shop, for winning the 30-Day blog challenge.

Thanks for stopping by and showing your support! *Heart*

A fair warning.

For the latest entries, please visit "Who do I still think I am??. Thanks!
Previous ... 1 2 3 4 -5- 6 7 8 9 10 ... Next
January 9, 2013 at 5:09pm
January 9, 2013 at 5:09pm
#771055
THE PROMPT: "Do you belong in this day and age? Do you feel comfortable being a citizen of the 21st-century? If you do, explain why — and if you don’t, when in human history would you rather be?"

What's up? An interesting prompt here. Given my mood the last few days, allow me to be blunt and introspective.

Perhaps it's just me, but seldom have I ever felt like I've truly "fit in" with whatever eras I've lived through. Even when I was happy and/or successful, it felt fleeting, or just not right. I was too busy looking over my shoulder, waiting for something or someone to take me down, instead of being able to appreciate it.

And when things aren't going your way? You'd think I'd be accustomed to that by now, but really, who wants to be comfortable there? That's why it's hard at times to be me...I'm too uncompromising for my own good at times, and too susceptible other times. I don't know how to strike a balance where I can at least be happy some of the time, and be ok with it and not have to worry about a whole lot of anything serious. I don't think that's too much to ask, but it's terrible to deliver (so I've seen).

Ok...that said, I'll play along with the prompt. I probably would have rather been a child of the late fifties and early sixties. I think it would've been amazing to grow up through so many cultural revolutions. In that course of time so many things changed, and being a part of it...wow! Sure, I've seen many other parts of cultural change, but besides cell phones and Facebook, nothing rivals the pure history of that era. I long for a simpler time...

Or do I? Sure, with the ability of hindsight, it seems simpler, but was it? Define "simpler". Your answer lies within your definition. Simpler, yes, but easier? Maybe. Maybe not. Take a second...shouldn't take much longer to see what side of the fence you're on. Have we grown too accustomed to creature comforts and instant gratification? Is what we sacrifice worth what we get in the end? Have we gone too far, or how far can it go? All we know is that we're not sure at best.

Whoops, sorry...had to play Devil's Advocate there for a minute. I guess I'm really not so sure myself these days of where I'd rather my place in history be. All I can do is worry about where I am for now, embrace it, and make the best of it, whether I like it or not.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Well said, Mr. Wilson.



VITAL STATS:

Another entry down...time to see what today's prompt is, post the last few entries, and hope for the best. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

January 8, 2013 at 5:55pm
January 8, 2013 at 5:55pm
#770917
THE PROMPT: "If you were told to 'leave town' tomorrow and everything you left behind would be taken care of for the next month, where would you go and why? (You cannot go to live with relatives.)"

What's up folks? This prompt's pretty easy, cuz I've pretty much already done it. Only, my stuff hasn't been looked after properly. Nor would Cortland have been my first choice (no offense to the fine couple of people here I've met). So I get to write a little bit of reality-based fiction? Ok!

Honestly, before all this happened to me, I hardly thought about moving. I didn't wanna move across town, let alone across a state or country. And I always figured it'd be more on my terms, or at least in cahoots with someone else's terms. The original plan was to grow old and move to Florida, where it's warm a lot more of the time, and grow older. And most of our stuff would come with us. Sadly, I didn't make it long enough in the relationship to see that to fruition.

So now instead I'm left to my own devices. The easy answer? I'd go back to 2011 (the year). Things were better and happier and there were less worries. I'd be a little smarter about the future and the present. I wouldn't have to worry about material items or my next meal or who gives a rat's ass about me, because I'd know a hell of a lot more then than what I know now. And I would be a lot more outwardly appreciative.

It's easy to say that, in my magical fairyland happyplace. It doesn't matter where exactly it would be; and the fact that it no longer exists doesn't really matter anymore because I know of no way to bring it back. It does make me sad, and I do miss it, and I know that it's going to be a long, long time before I ever get close enough to thinking I want to be anyplace with anyone again. I've been there...further than I've ever been. And I don't want to know anymore what it's like not to be able to go there again.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

I heard about this...this is a fantastic little bit of news! The legend has returned!



VITAL STATS:

No wi-fi for a few days, another depressing therapy session, and general malaise. Ain't life grand? On to more catching up...GOODNIGHT NOW!!
January 7, 2013 at 6:14pm
January 7, 2013 at 6:14pm
#770802
THE PROMPT: "Persuade me why you appreciate rainy days."

I can't. I just can't bring myself to do it.

What's the good word out there, y'all? Must be a lousy day on the left side of the west coast, judgin' by the prompt, but I could be wrong. Now, I can do a lot of things, and I can even do some of them well. But I can't persuade you that I appreciate rainy days.

Why? It's simple. I'm not gonna lie to you!!

There isn't a damn thing I enjoy or appreciate about a rainy day, or any other kind of precipitation-filled day for that matter. If it's not 80 degrees and sunny with a slight breeze, chances are my ass is at least a little miserable.

For starters, I walk crutch everywhere. Rain makes sidewalks slippery and gets all up in my face and glasses, makin' it hard to see. And if it's a really bad storm and you're caught without an umbrella, it starts to weigh your clothes down. Now, if you remember anything about anything I may happen to dislike (which is a lot to remember), you'll note that I absolutely dislike snow...but the weighing down of clothes in a storm is the only advantage of being in snow versus rain.

Also, rain cancels baseball games. Imagine being a fan, working hard all day doing nothing while waiting for your team's game to come on, and all you get is a rerun of Murder, She Wrote. Hours later you find while watching the news that the game was rained out. Now, this theory applies only when you're a fan of a team that isn't in your direct vicinity, but close enough to watch the games on cable. Of course, being a New York Mets fan, I don't think I'd mind so much if the entire 2012 season was rained out.

Rain causes puddles, and I just as easily could've destroyed my left ankle dodging a puddle like I jumped over a fire pit. In broad daylight. Without influence or reason. Stupid rain.

Rainy days affect my mood, for sure. I'm a classic case of being able to tell what it's like outside by interpreting my demeanor/clothes/look on my face. Like I said about it being 80 and sunny...there's another reason.

So you see, I can't do it. Rainy days. I've got no love for 'em. Now rainy day women, I can take them all day (and I'll stop there with the Dylan reference...I don't think this blog's rated explicitly enough for drug references Dylan references).

MUSICAL BREAK!!

*Laugh* This entry was not lip-synced. 1988 called however, and they said the rain could no longer be used as a valid excuse for anything in the presence of this song.



VITAL STATS:

*Sun* So, it was not rainy here on the left side of the east coast. Cold but getting warmer, and the sun came out a little just before it went down.

*Drbag* Wasn't gonna go anywhere today. My ankle felt like crap...this is at least the second time I've woken myself up in the middle of the night by stretching or bending and my knee overreacting like a bitch to it. Plus, I think I overdid it in the shower last night (by standing, ya pervs *Wink*) It was probably for the best that I stayed off the stairs and the ice and whatnot...until that little voice in my head started tellin' me how bored he was. So I took a chance, nearly fell outside, and thank goodness for 40 degree weather tomorrow.

*Sleep* I need someone to help me with these dreams. I made a mix tape (not a cd, but an actual cassette tape) for a kid who was a mix between my half-brother and a friend's son. The tape was playing in a car being driven by the kid's mom (who alternated between my friend and my stepmom), while I was in the back with a tiny cat and my grown-up half-brother, Bro Mike. The kid was singin' along to "Time To Get Ill" by the Beastie Boys and I had $15 in my pocket. I was using the $5 bill as a remote control for the stereo. We drove past my high school when "Smile" by Pearl Jam came on. We made it back to her place, where I was staying with her husband that doesn't like me (only it wasn't him...it was a half-white/brown guy with little dredlocks that didn't like me). I had just cut the cast off my leg with a pizza cutter, and was rummaging through the bathroom looking for waterproof medical tape to tape it back together, but couldn't find any. I submit this to you...That's messed up, yo!!

Anyway, that's my day. Got some Spaghettios (with meatballs *Delight*) waiting for me, and I hope I'm not jinxin' the wi-fi...maybe I can actually read a few blogs tonight. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

January 7, 2013 at 5:15pm
January 7, 2013 at 5:15pm
#770792
THE PROMPT: "BLOG! Reflect on your week, include your favorite blog entry from your fellow challengers from the preceding week and, most importantly, why."

Hey folks...gonna make this one quick. I kinda feel bad picking a favorite entry for the week. I really don't get a chance to read all of them like I used to, so who knows how many wonderful entries I've missed out on? Another sub-factor? I don't often remember full-on the entries itself, but I do remember the prompts...and if I read something I particularily liked during the day of a prompt I enjoyed, then that's what I wind up picking. (Say that six times fast.)

So without further ado, here's my favorites from the entries I cherry-picked through this week...I had to pick two because two really seemed to stick with me.

"Invalid Entry by Bonnie14222 and "Where's your grammar? She's at bingo. by Brother Nature .

I like Bonnie's entry because it says a lot in as few words as possible, and makes a ton of sense. And Joel, well, his style is unique and witty and engaging. There's always something entertaining going on in his entries.

As for the week in review? Scroll down the page. A busted limb, some scary dreams, skittish wi-fi, you know the drill. How about a week in preview? Ahhh, probably more of the same...
January 5, 2013 at 2:04pm
January 5, 2013 at 2:04pm
#770467
THE PROMPT: "Design and write about what would be your ideal contest on WDC."

Good morning folks! While I'm catching up on my "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS entries and before I get into this prompt, maybe it's time for a brief, helpful public service announcement. Always remember to copy your entry before you save it, even if it's not complete. We've probably all had that situation where we've typed up the "entry to end all entries", hit save, and some unforseen circumstance happens and wipes all of your work clean. I nearly averted such a crisis myself last night.

As I was typing the previous entry through Blackberry Central, the wi-fi quit. When I was done, luckily this phone allows for the copy/pasting of text, so I did. And then I hit send, but had no service...the rest of the night. I left my phone open on the counter with the browser open; I wasn't taking chances. I woke up this morning to having a working wi-fi signal, so I resent the entry, but was obviously timed out of WDC. After signing back in, I had to paste back in what I had already entered. Sure it took a little bit and was a slight pain in the ass, but it beats that feeling of emptiness and dissatisfaction of totally losing an entry and having to start from scratch. So the moral is: Always save your work!!

Now, onto yesterday's prompt...

I've been a WDC member for a lot of years, and with varying degrees of involvement. I've had times where I didn't know what to do with my time and wanted to be more involved, and other times where I couldn't even keep my upgraded membership. I tend to go in spurts (outside of blogging), where I'll upload a bunch of items, and go months or years without even looking at my port. I tend to go on review binges also...I know, terrible, right? Anyway...

So one day, I was trying to figure out how to get my items read more. This was years ago, before blogging was even a twinkle in WDC's pants. I had entered and won a few contests, so I figured what the hell. I had plenty of GP's to fund a contest, so it was time for me to develop one. I also thought, since I'd been a yellow case for so long, it'd be a great way of getting "promoted" to Moderator (I've long since given up on that dream).

I sat down at the desk in my living room at 542, went on the Contest page, opened up to add a new one, and I had...nothing. No ideas. Couldn't come up with anything. It was like what little I could come up with was already taken in some form, or my ideas just weren't feasible. I did manage to come up with something really lame (I don't even remember what it was). I promoted the hell out of it, everywhere I could on WDC. Nobody entered. And that was the end of my contest-creation days. Until now. Sorta.

I get that what I'm about to propose isn't really fitting with the prompt, and I'm ok with that. It's more of an idea than a design. I don't have the time nor energy for designing. But if you're ready for it, the following is what I'd like to see.

I'd like something interactive that pits two or three users, or even groups of users, against each other, in a format of something like the game shows on tv in the '70's and '80's. Something wacky and fun and cheesy, with a tux'd-up host and models holding prizes. Something like Tic-Tac-Dough or Family Fued. Or Name That Tune or The Dating Game. Surely of all the users on WDC, someone has to not only remember these shows, but can be smart enough to adapt and format them. I can already see it now...tens of people wearing out the refresh button on their browsers, chasing down virtual prizes like MB's, GP's and an all-inclusive trip to the WDC Support Forum!! "Storymaster, tell 'em what he's won!!"

It almost makes me sad that this'll probably never happen.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

I couldn't resist adding this gem from the early days of MTV.



VITAL STATS:

*Sleep* I had a dream about WDC, among the many oddities I dreamed of while I slept. I checked my email, had 12 messages, and one stood out but I don't remember why. Another was the prompt for today's entry (coming later) about the Sunday favorite. That's kinda creepy.

Anyway, I'm gonna take a break, grab something to eat, hope the wi-fi's still workin', and maybe catch you all a little later. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

January 4, 2013 at 3:51pm
January 4, 2013 at 3:51pm
#770290
THE PROMPT: "Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it." ~Bill Cosby
Discuss the above quotation and whether or not you believe the same.


What's up y'all? This prompt looks difficult on the surface, but for me, it's pretty easy.

Sure, I can sit here and bore you by rehashing all of the bullshit I've had to deal with over the last six months, but I'm not gonna do that. No need to totally revisit the past while I'm still dealing with consequences and knowing that I'm stuck in them for awhile before I can fully start moving forward with my life again.

I've received a lot of support and encouragement regarding my situation, and I'm grateful. Very thankful. I'm not going to lie; this is by far not been the easiest of times. But through all the drama, nonsense and other crap I've lived through, I've learned this: it's often pointless to complain. Yeah, I said it...for those of you who remember the debacle of a "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS that was poorly run several months ago that got me labled as a "complaining male".

Nobody wants to hear it. Everyone's sorry, and everyone's got their own problems to deal with. So I prefer to go the other way and try not to worry (and some days are more difficult than others). I have no choice really but to use humor when talking about or even thinking about my circumstance. I have to laugh, because really, what's my only other alternative? When I wake up tomorrow or the next couple of weeks, my problems will still be there. Bitching about them won't heal my ankle, stop the government from taking money away from me, find me a job, or make me happy. So I have to use my words to humor at least myself...and if somebody else along the way laughs too, even better. Because like I said, there really isn't any other palatable option for me at this time.

Imagine that...I managed to turn a prompt about humor into a depressing little missive. Eh, someday I'll be able to look back on this and laugh. Unless my crutches slip out from under me on the stairs or in the snow and I end up breaking my face. Hey, that doesn't sound like a bad idea...maybe I can get that fixed too!

MUSICAL COMEDY BREAK!!

I was trying to think of a song, but I'm not much for funny songs today. I referenced this little bit the other day though, and decided to share. For frame of reference, ya know?



VITAL STATS:

I'm gonna hafta come up with something later. Fell behind yesterday by not having a wi-fi connection and it's looking spotty again today. Ugh...it's gonna be a long weekend if I can't get some internet action. I'm gonna at least try and save this and get caught up with the next prompt, and if all goes well maybe get to some of the other entries. Wish me luck...

January 3, 2013 at 3:28am
January 3, 2013 at 3:28am
#770130
THE PROMPT: "Do you believe that incorrect spellings and grammar are acceptable in creative forms such as poetry?"

'Sup playas? Interesting concept we've got going on here. I like it.

HOW DARE YE ANGER THE GODS WITH SUCH TALK??

Enough said. The forefathers of poetry have already answered this question. They had no choice but to reconfigure words and grammar to fit into their precious metres and tambres. Hence, words like "hence", "ere", "e'er" and "dafuq".

Poetry, as does life, happens. It must, as all things should, come from the heart. It speaks to us before we can actually speak; that's how we know its validity. Occasionally, it trips us and leaves us searching for new ways of saying old things. A true poet then retrofits the language to make his (or her) lines sound "right". Look at all of your favorite poets from decades past...they raped language in the very name of the poems studied in English textbooks, and nobody flinches.

But I'mma tell you what: you wanna jerk off the language in your text messages and Facebook statuses? That, my friends, does not make you a poet. No way, no how. "I C U l8r" doesn't even make sense, let alone dare to touch the ink of the fountain pen our poetic forefathers wrote with. "2mrw" means nothing if you've got any semblance of literacy! Fucking say what you mean, and mean what you say! So long as it isn't mean.

But poetry...the sweet, sweet vice of mine. Sure, words need to be manipulated and adjusted. In context, of course. Just like a chiropractor thinks all backs need a good cracking. Sometimes in a good way, and sometimes in a bad, bad way.

Personally, I don't adhere to rules about poetry. I write like a pen stuck a needle into a vein and I don't stop until I'm drained. The mess is left for the reader to clean up. See that yellow case next to my name? I didn't make it on WDC by blogging. I got that on Stories.com because I had some mad ass poetic skills. They godfathered me in, back in the day. And if the late greats can make up stuff to fit in their lines, who's to say I can or can't? Who's the judge? When did you become history? Word. Thought so.

Now, making shit up is only cool if there's a good story for it. That is, don't write a new language unless you've got the sack to prove it. Or something...someone said one time somewhere. I can assure you that while I may make up words to prove my poetic license, all events spoken through my poetry are 100% lived in and legit. I did that shit, I felt that shit, I meant that shit, and dammit, I lived to write that shit. From the heart, man. From the heart.

Check my port here on WDC. I've actually added some new items from the last few months. Some have real words, and some have some made-up words, bent into a poetic landscape. SHAMELESS PLUG!!

In closing, I would just like to reiterate my stance on the prompt. My favorite poets from back in the day made shit up to make their lines work, and I think that's ok within reason, y'all. Make it right. *Heart*

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Poets? Don't tell me what the poets are doin'.

Never mind. I didn't get a chance to use a real computer today. I would've uploaded "Poets" by The Tragically Hip again for the umpteenth time anyway.

VITAL STATS:

*Drbag* Just got home from the doctor's office, so here's the eagerly awaited left ankle update: They took my cast off. My foot doesn't look like a foot. I can't even describe it. There's a two inch incision on the inside part of the ankle, and about a four to five inch incision on the outside. The nice nurse pulled all the sutures out...took a few minutes and was relatively painless. She steri-stripped it up and I went for more x-rays. Then they put a new cast on it, which is about the same size as the last cast. I'll rock that for about four weeks, go back, get more x-rays, get a gigantic boot to wear, and a few weeks later I'll get some IV sedation, a local anaesthetic, and the hardware will come out. It's still non-weight bearing, which sucks.

The doc gave me a copy of my x-ray, and when I say "hardware", fool ain't jokin'. One long plate holding two long screws, two medium-sized screws, and three smaller screws. I managed to tear a few ligaments in there as well, which is pretty sick. The ankle is supposed to fit a certain way against the bone of the leg; mine still does not. Ergo, staying completely off it is a must, lest I snap screws and reshift everything prematurely. I tried uploading a pic of the x-ray to WDC directly from the Blackberry, but I can't seem to get the sizing right (even when using my photo editing app), so if ya wanna see it, it's on Facebook.

Oh, and by the time this is all over with, I'll probably need to shave my legs, since my left leg is now as smooth and sexy as a supermodel's. A supermodel with jacked-up bones out of place.

That's all I've got in me for now. After crutching back and forth to bus stops in 25 degree weather while wearing shorts because pants are too much of a pain in the ass, the warmth has pretty much returned to my body and I'm spent. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!
January 2, 2013 at 1:19pm
January 2, 2013 at 1:19pm
#770056
THE PROMPT: "If you could give any person in the world one gift (money and time are no obstacle), who would you pick and what would you give them?"

Welcome back y'all! First, a very happy birthday to Emily ! She's grabbed the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS by the bootstraps and is ushering it into 2013 with full force. She's got her grown-up pants on and is ready to go. I want to take a moment to personally thank her not only for the work she's done with the 30DBC, but also for her encouragement as well. From me and on behalf of the fine folks who read this Em, thank you, happy birthday, and welcome to adulthood...you've been warned! *Laugh*

Now, on to the prompt. Ironically, I was asked pretty much the same question the other day by my only friend in town. She was more than nice enough to make sure that Santa Claus stopped by my place with gifts and food...then she shot me an email asking me what I wouldve gotten her, if I could.

I didn't have an answer.

See, I was taught that there are certain things you don't say at certain times (I said I was taught that; I didn't say I learned it *Smirk*). The query struck me as off-putting. Here's me...in a new town, little money, and a bone in my foot that frantically tried to puncture the skin, and you'd like to know what I can do for you. *Rolleyes*

I've been worrying about myself a lot lately, wondering what I'm going to do or how I'm going to get around or trying to figure out what I need, so much so that I don't even have all the answers for myself half the time anymore. And when I do finally settle down, I'm exhausted from taking care of whatever I can take care of.

I also pride myself on being a good and thoughtful gift-giver. Given my situation currently, I am in no position to be giving anyone anything more than a wave of my crutches if they're coming up the stairs while I'm trying to make it down. Part of me feels bad that I have little to offer. Part of me accuses that other part of being selfish and only thinking about myself all the time. And part of me still requires painkillers and devices that help me get around. All of these parts have conspired to keep me safely out of fantasy dreamland for now. Or, well, until now.

If the chains are off and the credit has no limit and I can gift like Oprah, then that is what I shall do! (Cue the youtube clip of Dane Cook as Oprah, giving away school districts and humpback whales.)

But the more I think about it, the less I know. Maybe I'm too coddled by my own stress and needs, and that disallows me to thoughtfully think about others and what they desire. I don't even know. I hate not knowing. GI Joe's gonna kick me off his army for not knowing, which is half the battle if you know. (What they don't tell you...is what the other half of the battle is. It's a well-positioned cake with a piece cut at an improper angle, placed in front of you, and your mouth is too full of it to question why it's cut so.)

Ok, now I'm stalling on the prompt. If I were to give anyone anything (parameters be damned) and by "anyone" I mean "anyone not named me", without further ado, I'd give a proper governing body the power to crystallize common sense and then give a more proper governing body the power to shake it from a salt shaker all over the parties that need it most. I'm lookin' at your stupid asses, National Hockey League. Common sense would've ended your problems months ago, but since common sense isn't very common anymore, I'm just another fan without a game. You should all be ashamed...nope, wait, you won't. Shame is too common-sensical for ya.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Another favorite of mine...a resolution of sorts to myself.



VITAL STATS:

*Bullet* I don't make resolutions, but if I did, it'd be to be a better person to all that I come across. And that's my word.

Figures...as I prepare to close out this entry, the wi-fi has dropped out. I didn't need it when typing this, but I need it to send this. Such is life...2012, we hardly knew thee before 2013 took over where you left off. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!




Officially approved Writing.Com Preferred Author logo.
January 2, 2013 at 1:14pm
January 2, 2013 at 1:14pm
#770055
THE PROMPT: "Write about the area of your writing you would most like to improve."

What's up? Happy new year, friends! Let's get the year started off on a good foot (pun intended), shall we? I love me a prompt about the written word, even if most of you who know me know I don't particularily care to talk much about my own writing.

Now, what about my writing would I improve? Nothing. It is what it is, was, and will be. I've found a voice, and I'll continue to listen to it, even when it encourages me to do stupid things. That voice...it's beyond improvement. Nothing's gonna save it. There's that old saying about putting lipstick on a pig...yeah, that's where I'm going with this.

Spelling? I'm at the mercy of spellchecking functions on WDC and my Blackberry. Besides, I'm a pretty decent speller anyway. Grammar? Oh boy do I love grammar. My boy G-Stamm once dubbed me "Grammar Jedi". I take it seriously, and I seriously love to bastardize the language. I see no need for improvement there.

I suppose I could use some improvement in my delivery, or my material. But that would require living more of an outrageous life than I already lead. And I don't know if my body, at 37, can sustain much more outrageousness. I think I've done ten years' worth of living in the last six months.

All I can do in terms of improvement is hope. I'd like a keyboard bigger than three inches wide by two inches high to type with, and a wi-fi signal that doesn't just work when it wants to. Typing a blog entry on a phone can really try one's patience, and lord knows I didn't get any patience for Christmas this year.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Ahhh, my annual "this year will be better than the last" tribute...



VITAL STATS:

I'm gonna save this for the next entry. I'm catching up on my "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS entries, attempting to bang out two in a day. So hold tight...
December 27, 2012 at 9:24pm
December 27, 2012 at 9:24pm
#769556
What's up folks? I'm coming to you from Blackberry Central, due in part to my inability to walk less than two blocks after a snowstorm because one of my legs still has a weight-bearing capacity of zero pounds. At least the worst of the snowstorm is over; I hadn't heard a final count but there's at least a foot of snow out there. And according to Facebook, my sources back in the homeland of Buffalo have received at least a foot as well. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday, ya got what ya wanted, ya spent time with loved ones and not-so-loved others, feasted, or just had a good couple of days. Now, more about me and why I'm here tonight.

In the interest of driving the medical community's economy by seeing that my government-sponsored insurer would pay a local doctor out here, I took my left leg into the shop. Standard procedure, or routine maintainence, I suppose. I had some x-rays done, which the doctor said "looked super". It's amazing how an x-ray can make a man who makes a lot of money feel so excited...especially if my "super looking" ankle has two screws in it.

In walked then a nurse. Pretty, but not remarkable. Clearly not in the same realm of Hollywood nurses, but pretty nonetheless. With a combination of fiestiness and flirtation, she was charged with getting my vitals and interviewing me. Assessing my needs. Feeling my pain without actually feeling my pain or doing much about it. She modified the apparatus on my leg that keeps me from taking complete steps by trimming an inch off the top and tucking some softer materials in the ends so I don't go too crazy with this cast on. We exchanged a few more niceties and that was it. My newly tricked-out cast was ready to greet the public. Only one man could stand in my way...

The doc walked back in. He was encouraging again. Kept calling me "kid" and "young man" and he couldn't have been much older than me at all, but I'll admit, I looked younger. Definitely. I think the nurse thought I was a lot younger too, and I'm pretty sure she was younger than me by at least five years. Anyway, I digress...the doc went on to say words I could try to live with: he wasn't prescribing me anymore pain meds. I was a little disappointed, but whatever. Then he went random superhero on me. "On people a little older than you, normally I'd leave the screws in there. But with you young guys, I like to get what doesn't belong in there outta there." *Confused* No doc, I'm not following your theory there at all. Unless you intend to pay for the prom tickets so I can take your nurse to the 1993 prom that doesn't exist. He isn't.

He went on to warn me about how I can only use my toes to balance, and tell me why the screws are in there, and what can happen if I continue to try to walk without crutches. Basically, if I walk without crutches and add weight to my foot, I can break the screws and then they stay in there. So riddle me this: does breaking the screws add years to my life's age, since he won't take them out of me if they're broken and much the same as he won't take them out of the perceived elderly? Just a thought.

But that wasn't the worst of it. All of the nurses in the hospital, as well as all of the other previous ankle-seceeding-the-leg victims I'd spoken with, had said the phrase "6-8 weeks" like they knew this to be true as gospel. Foolish me hears it and believes this from the mouths who've seen or had legs in this condition to be true as gospel. What I learned yesterday is this form of gospel is incorrect.

"So," says the good doc, "we'll bring you back in next week. We'll get your cast off and take your stitches out and go from there. I know your operating physician likes to have the screws pulled in 6-8 weeks; however, I prefer to keep them in for 9-12. So we'll get the stitches out and get you in a smaller cast. Ok?" (It's worth noting that at first, when he said, "9-12", he didn't specify if that was days or weeks. This lead me to asking the dumbest question of the year in the dumbest way possible..."Days, right?"...like I was telling him how long I'd be keeping his nurse out on prom night but by asking with a time I knew he'd find unacceptable.)

Ok?? OK?!? Look, I knew he wasn't gonna wave a magic want over me while I staggered up from my chair and wobble-walked to the other side of the exam room while the theme to "Chariots Of Fire" (Youtube it) played through the office's overhead speakers. But damn. Common math tells me this:

12 > 8
9 > 6
6-8 weeks is 1.5-2 months
9-12 weeks is 2-3 months
That's a big difference. Especially when you consider the stairs I'm gonna have to climb.


Yeah, that made me not happy. No more good meds and the potential of an additional month of this madness. At least I made it home before the big snowfall, lest I got the urge to put a little weight on my non-bearing busted limb out of pure angst and spite.

So that's all I'm gonna say about that for a day or few. We'll see. Say, speaking of Buffalo people, I did get an email from Bonnie14222 wondering why I'm not signed up for the January edition of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS and to catch up a little bit. Well, I haven't totally convinced myself to stay out of the 30DBC any bit more than I can coerce myself into committing to it for another fun month. I've got a few days left to decide...the first big decision of 2013, where I can look back and say to myself, "Self, what were you thinkin' last year? *Smirk*" I'll sleep on it (more like I'll toss and turn over it) and get a solid answer out there soon.

Alright y'all...you've heard enough outta me, and my thumbs are gettin' sore. In the interest of full disclosure, I'm gonna use the Blackberry's copy/paste function, try to post this, get the error message that WDC can't store the item because my wi-fi's out, wave my phone around the room like I'm trying to fly with it in hopes that it can find the free wi-fi, notice the symbols telling me I have access, store this bastard entry, send that notice out to followers who get notifications from me that I have a new entry, eat one of those Little Debbie apple pies, and re-read this entry, stopping to edit any and all things that need to be corrected (probably every three minutes' worth of read text), watch some tv on dvd (just got through the first season of Modern Family...enjoyed it) and then do the tossing and turning I spoke of in the previous paragraph. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!
December 17, 2012 at 2:57pm
December 17, 2012 at 2:57pm
#768846
What's goin' on y'all? I've been meaning to stop in for awhile, but I've been a little busy. I'll keep this short since I'm on Blackberry Central with wi-fi that likes to drop out often.

Friday night I managed to break and dislocate the shit outta my left ankle. It was dark out, I jumped and landed in a grassy rut the wrong way, and now I've got an enormous cast on my leg...toes to just below the knee. A few incisions and some screws, and I'll be fine in a few weeks.

I knew it wasn't right almost immediately. Of course I got up and tried to walk it off...and immediately crumpled back to the ground. I went to the ER, got xray'd up, medded up, and had surgery Sunday morning. I don't know if it was the impact, the cast, the swelling, or a combination of factors, but my left knee was swollen to almost twice its size. That went down thankfully, and I can almost bend my leg.

Apparently this is a long-term injury. I've heard 6-8 weeks. What sucks the most is I live in a 2nd-story room with no elevator; just 20 stairs. I barely made it up them, trying to crutch myself and my belongings up them from the hospital. I got lucky...someone was coming down the stairs as I was dropping everything on my way.

Anywho, if you don't hear from me for awhile, that's what's up. Take it from me, so you don't learn the hard way: cute hospital nurses do not spongebathe patients anymore. And that's not an easy thing to do in a gown with an IV in. And I'm sure there are less painful ways to acquire morphine.

I'll keep ya posted as best I can. Just be good and take care of each other. I'm gonna drop some painkillers and hit up a nap. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!
December 4, 2012 at 5:15pm
December 4, 2012 at 5:15pm
#767601
What's goin' on y'all? Greetings from sunny Cortland, NY, where it's been shorts weather for two days in a row now and probably won't be again until April of 2013.

So, I haven't been on a really good rant in a long time. Every damn time I think about it, I reference myself to this entry, "War Points, from a few years ago. Reading it now reminds me of how silly and dated it is, but dammit I was pissed off that day about something, that much I know. I remember the people commenting on it at the time telling me to calm down. And I'm getting all worked up thinking about it.

Yesterday I began to tell you about the library situation here in Cortland. Here's the difference between the system I'm used to (BECPL) and this one here.

BECPL:
Using their exceptionally easy and non-obtrusive check-in and reservation system, you can easily sign in to a computer and waste up to 8 or more hours of your time surfing the internet for the latest news and trends, hottest music, fabulous writers, best games, and lots more. While most branches have around 15-20 computers with little waiting, the flagship central library location downtown has almost 100!

Cortland:
Six computers. Check in at the librarian's desk and sign in for a half-hour session. Better make sure you save your work, because once that time's up, time's up. Take a break. Find something else to do, because you're not gonna be back allowed on our computers for another hour. And even then, you'll only get another half-hour of our time. Oh, you're the only one here? And you're creating a blog entry?? What's that? That's nice, but you've used your allotted time for the day. Sorry.


Yeah, that's kind of pretty much what it's like here. And all of the people who work or volunteer or do anything in any kind of capacity that I've had the courtesy of dealing with here? Yeah, at one time or another, or pretty much every time except for the chick who helped me get my library card, they've all been above-and-beyond rude to me. Sorry I didn't realize your "Young Adult" section was different than the rest of the library. Sorry that I put the books I was returning on the wrong side of the counter...didn't know it mattered because frankly, it's not that fucking busy here.

To illustrate my point, it's almost 5:30 in the afternoon, I've been here for 35 minutes (about 25 to go!) and just once have all six computer workstations been used at the same time. I, in fact, am the only person using one currently. Meanwhile, outside of the rare occasion that a woman has brought in about six screaming kids, this place is dead. I could start a bowling league in here with the non-fiction. One of the only other people in here is a woman I see in here rather often, actually. She's got a bunch of duffle bags with her, and...a hardcover on her chest...and, yup, she's sleeping. Again. Fucking sleeping. Let me tell you, this woman's always fucking sleeping on the couch, sitting up, in the sitting area. And me? If it were me, they'd have no problem making an example out of me by asking me never to return the minute I grab The Cortland Standard and try to catch some shut-eye. I know for a fact that if you pull this behavior anywhere (besides the comfort of your own house) in Buffalo, not only are you frowned upon, but usually the police are invited as well, and they don't show up to participate in your love-in for peace on the park bench. Naw man, fuck that. Fuck that and fuck this place.

Now, I also mentioned yesterday that there's a woman who seems to be in-chargeish like a librarian of sorts. She could be my age at the most, probably younger. And I did say she was beautiful. And she is, in a late-60's, early-70's movie star kinda way, with about the intelligence most of the women in those roles back then had. In other words, she may be in control and know what she's doing, but she doesn't say much and I'm having a hard time picturing her being very bright. Which, once I get that thought (true or not) stuck in my craw, tends to turn me off. So I won't be actively pursuing this chick. At least not now, and not for awhile. Don't get me wrong; if I reverse my fortunes and something happens where I need to ask this chick something more important than "Where's the cartoon books?", then maybe I'll change my mind. But I doubt it.

And while we're at it, let's talk about selection. I get it...this is a small town in a small county and blah blah blah. Well, I don't trust a library that doesn't lend out copies of Family Guy on DVD. Furthermore, I have a much larger music collection than this library does, which is very, very sad. My personal cd collection is at least 10 times the size, no joke. And 90% of the books I've taken out so far have had to come from other libraries. I understand that not every library can have every book, but really? This library is the same size as practically every other library I'm used to...what do people do here??

And don't get me started on the rules. Rules are rules...do this, this, and this, but not that. And "that" is something really obvious, like, something you wouldn't think of doing in a public library anyway. Don't "fight". Don't "order a pizza". Don't "swear loudly". Damn...may as well say something stupid like "Don't take out books here, because ours suck" or something like that.

I still can't get over this "one hour" thing. I was once told very firmly that I "need to get done whatever it is I'm doing in the hour I'm given". Lady, did you earn your library dictatorship priviledges in a measly hour? Because I'm sure you didn't gain your negligible beauty (term being used loosely to describe just about every other lady here) in an hour, unless the boyfriend you keep talking about on all of your phone conversations that I can clearly overhear is some sort of "one hour revolutionist" who can grant us all the freedom to become amazing above all of our ordinary attributes.

Now, I do have one nice thing to say about this place. The girl that gave me the library card to begin with...she was rather pleasant. Of course, I haven't really seen her here since. She must've perished in the Great Purge Of Personalities that had to have happened here about a week or so after I became part of this community. She was cool...in order to have a card in this community you must provide some kind of proof of address. Well, I had nothing, except some paperwork from the Department of Social Services. I explained to her it was all I had (leaving out the part that it wasn't my real address). She looked at it, and totally bit on it when I said, "It's official-looking and everything...see, the letterhead has a seal on it!" She was all like, "Gee, this does look pretty official." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I officially became Cortland-legal.

Whew. Felt good to get that rant off my chest. Even if it did take me a little longer than I thought it would. But, that's life in the small town. You'll have that.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Wish I had a song that could properly sum up this angst I have toward this building. I don't. At least not off the top of my head. The best I can do is become a good patron of this place...good enough to know that they'll notice me on days that I don't come here.



VITAL STATS:

I don't have much left to say today...I'm a little tired, a little worn out, a little of this and that. Gonna try to bleed this building for what it's worth for another day, head back home and get another good night's sleep. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!



Officially approved Writing.Com Preferred Author logo.
December 3, 2012 at 5:09pm
December 3, 2012 at 5:09pm
#767531
What's up y'all? Just checkin' in for a brief spell to cause a little trouble. It's been awhile since I can say with any certainty that I've done that.

But I can say brief because I have an issue with the internet. More specifically, with those ladies at the Cortland Library where I spend my time typing this up while using their internet. *Rolleyes* This entry would've been way awesomer had I actually gotten off my ass and written it the other day in the form it was originally concieved: while signed in to WDC on a display tablet at the local Staples store. Alas, what I lack in motivation I always make up for in creativity. *Smirk*

See, I've figured out this much when I write (especially when I'm participating in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS): a good entry takes me about an hour to write, and that's when I've got a basic idea of what I'm writing about. When I had my laptop and a ManCave, this was not a problem. It wasn't even a problem in Buffalo, where the libraries are pretty lax with their internet usage. But here? Naw man, they're way too pretty with their internet time here.

I won't get into the major differences (there's no time for that now!) but on a given day, basically they give you an hour to use the computers and that's it. It doesn't matter if you're a student typing a paper, a world famous purveyor of blogged interwebs content, or if you fall somewhere in the middle.

One hour. And that doesn't include coming up with music, adding more tidbits of my mega-entertaining life of walking around to different places in this tiny little town, liking things on Facebook, or editing. Hell, editing is something that has to come another day all by itself, unless I've been spot-on with my rambling fingers.

This, I believe, has led to a decrease not only in the quantity of my work, but the quality as well. And who suffers? You, my favorite people who read this nonsense, that's who!

Tomorrow (if time allows), I will get into the differences and details. Foolish me didn't bring his notes or his headphones or anything else to make today more enjoyable...looks like I've got something to do tomorrow! *Laugh* But for now, put on your nastypants and skip along down the streets of Cortland with me and some flaming torches...this library hasn't heard the last of me!!

MUSICAL BREAK!!

These stupid computers! Makin' ya wear earphones to listen to music! Sons'a bitches! Well, ummm, not like I wanna know what Jim Bob is bumpin' next to me, or what PeggyJane MarySueEllen across from me is falling in love with. But dammit, they should be all up on this classic jam!!



VITAL STATS:

*Books3* In a preview of tomorrow's entry, I have a new nemesis in this town (and maybe, eventually, a storyline). She's, I think, the librarian here. And she's beautiful. *Wink*

*Thumbsupr* Big thanks to Emily for the Travel MB associated with the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS for November. Pretty sweet...and congrats to her for taking over the challenge! I'm not gonna do it this month, but I will hopefully be back in 2013 to regain my righteous position as the blogger everyone loves to, ummm, feel some kind of emotion toward.

That's all I'll leave you with today folks...just a short tease for tomorrow I suppose. Off to read some newspapers, maybe grocery shop, and avoid the sweatbox of a room I sleep in for awhile. Hope everyone's well and all...peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

November 23, 2012 at 1:25pm
November 23, 2012 at 1:25pm
#766663
What's up y'all? We all know what yesterday was, and we know what today is as well. I'm thankful for a year at least that I'm not working in retail, so that I don't have to deal with a lot of the nonsense that goes into today.

For years, Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday. It still is, by and far, my favorite meal. In fact, many years ago, my folks asked me what I'd like for dinner on my midsummer day's birthday, and I requested a Thanksgiving feast complete with all the trimmings. At the end of July. And I got it. There I was, with my family and a few of my close friends...80 degrees and turkey.

My folks made up for it a few years later by completely forgetting about me throughout the course of an entire Thanksgiving and Christmas season. They summed up that odd season perfectly by splitting up sometime I believe in the following January. I found out while ordering breakfast for dinner with them at a restaurant. The family has since splintered in several directions, and Thanksgiving is no longer shared.

I still managed to enjoy some Thanksgivings though, be it with friends who were considered family, or new families that I was sort of adopted into. But I think the holiday was ruined completely for me just a few years ago. I was dating a woman, and like most I fell hard and fast in love, but she was different. It would be, I believe, our third Thanksgiving together, but our first after making that all-important business decision of moving in together about six months earlier. It was a bad business decision on both ends.

We had plans to eat with her family, some of whom were coming in from out of town. The holiday started normally, with preparations beginning the night before of what we were going to bring. She started cooking, I offered to help, there wasn't much for me to do, and so I got out of the way. We awoke the next day, and I was thinking we'd get ready, finish whatever it was we were bringing, and be on our way.

Boy was I wrong.

The woman remained in bed. A severe crying jag she was in the midst of. Now, we rarely ever fought, so this felt very new and strange to me. I really couldn't comprehend what was happening. I went to see what was wrong, and she began a tirade against me. She tore into me bigtime. About everything. All of my faults. Everything I did and didn't do, and especially the things I did wrong. And of course, she was right. This left me powerless. I knew she was right. I left her alone to sort herself, thinking she'd take a shower, start getting ready, and we'd enjoy the day. Silly me.

I probably lost track of time, being in my own little world (one of the things I was very good at doing wrong). Before I knew it, the woman, who I was very much in love with, was screaming again from the bedroom. I didn't realize a few hours had passed. It was closer to dinnertime, and she had yet to get ready. "I've been in here for hours crying, and you haven't checked on me or tried to comfort me or see what was wrong?" I hadn't, because I knew what was wrong from the previous tirade. It was still wrong. There wasn't enough time, nor was it something I could just reach into my toolbox for to fix appropriately. It was something two people in a relationship together had to work through. And sometimes, I was (I thought) smart enough to know, some people need to have a good cry to themselves before they can attempt to fix anything.

Like I said earlier, this was all new to me.

My take on the situation was, of course, the wrong take. Apparently, reading minds takes holidays off in our house. My thought process regarding the situation was, in fact, the incorrect manner of handling the situation. There was more female yelling, there were tearful phone calls, and there was no Thanksgiving meal with family. I'm pretty sure there was some sort of female "monthly condition" in play as well, but I was not in any position to speculate further. I think what saddened me the most about this day was that she was not going to be able to spend it with her family, especially the ones from out of town. I know I felt terrible about that.

The day dragged on. I didn't want to eat, thinking that at any moment she might change her mind and we'd be off, and I would've hated to ruin my appetite for my favorite meal given the circumstances. So as day turned to evening, as football games began and ended, I myself turned from thoughts of food to beverages. I decided I was going to have a few beers and forget it all; the holiday was officially a wash. Of course, this was about thirty seconds before the woman who I dearly loved came out and said her relatives were on their way, bringing food to us. I honestly didn't know how I felt, seeing as how I'd made peace with the day that was not to be anyway already.

The woman and I made peace as well with our feelings. I agreed I would help out more and be an even better person. I wasn't great, but I wasn't bad. However, this proved to be somewhat prophetic in our relationship. The next Thanksgiving went off without any hitch, but the same argument would emerge time after time. The crippling crying jags, my powerlessness of consolation, the willingness to do nothing until I gave up. That next Thanksgiving would be our last.

I don't celebrate very many holidays. Primarily because they don't interest me in some way or another. Some you need others to celebrate with you, and some can be celebrated on their own merit if you so choose (and those are the ones I usually skip out on anyway). Yesterday was the first holiday in quite some time that I would've actually celebrated, but I was alone and unable to.

I woke up and got dressed. I put on shorts because the weatherperson said it'd be shorts weather for me, and this made me happy because I like to wear shorts, and it might be the last time all year I could wear shorts. I went to the big CVS across the street and prepared for my turkey day feast: a can of Chunky chili, a pint of cookie dough ice cream, and something else I forgot already because it wasn't important. I also had the previous day's newspaper, because there wasn't going to be a holiday edition printed. I made it back to my room and ate the ice cream right away, because my tiny fridge unfortunately doesn't keep frozen stuff frozen very long. I found that out the hard way the day before with a different pint of ice cream.

I spent the day reading. Between Wednesday night and Thursday night I read a total of three novels, each over 300 pages. A fifty year history of the Buffalo Bills, a series of newspaper and magazine interviews with Charles Schulz (the cartoonist behind Charlie Brown), and a biography of John Lennon (yes, that guy). I was disappointed in the Schulz book because over the course of 50 years, it seemed like every interviewer basically asked him the same questions, and he gave pretty much the same responses.

Throughout the course of the day, I kept my can of chili on the heating unit of the room. My room gets ridiculously hot, and since I'm not allowed to cook in the room, I figured this would help. Around dinnertime (normal people dinnertime, not the holiday standard of 2pm...who the hell eats dinner that early anyway??), maybe 5pm-ish, I took off for a walk around town. It was eerily quiet, even for a big family kind of holiday. I spent an hour outside, walking around. I saw some places I'd heard of but hadn't seen before, and arrived at a few places I'd only been to by walking randomly around. At one point I came across a group of people. I had no idea what they were doing, but it seemed like a large group of people to be out randomly on a holiday.

I decided to go back home. I hadn't really heard from many people...just a text from a friend wishing me a happy Thanksgiving, and a text from a number I didn't recognize saying the same thing. Normally, years ago, I would've responded by echoing the sentiment and asking who it was, but this year I didn't. I'd just gotten this phone and had only given the number out to a handful of people, and this person wasn't one of them. I tried cross-referencing the number in my old phone, but it wasn't in there either. It was a 716 area code, but I no longer live in the 716 area. There were a couple people I was really hoping it might be, a few more (well, ok, one) more than others, but it was most likely not. I never persued it.

I just kept listening to the radio, reading my books. Finally I finished the last one. I never got around to making my chili. I wasn't really in the mood. I'm still not.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Happy belated Thanksgiving!



VITAL STATS:

*Cart* If ya go out and do the "Black Friday" thing, be nice to the poor souls who're waiting on you. They don't wanna hear your crap. They don't care if this is the most important Christmas of your life. They're making a few bucks so you can shop at an ungodly hour. Give 'em some respect. And if the store sells out early of that super-sweet deal of whatever, it's not the end of Christmas or the world as we know it. Get over it. Better yet, instead of shopping, spend a little more time with your loved ones.

That's really all for today. I've just been in a mood lately. We'll see how that works out. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

November 20, 2012 at 11:21am
November 20, 2012 at 11:21am
#766409
Good morning fine people...let's see what I can accomplish today in the scope of less than an hour. It seems as if there's a problem that has followed me from Buffalo to Cortland.

No, it's not serious. But it has ruined one night already, and made for a difficult afternoon. I'm proud to admit that I've at least alleviated it.

Where I last stayed in The 'Lo, at least once a week a light bulb would burn out or have some kind of problem. A kitchen bulb, a garage bulb, the fridge, the microwave...and on Halloween the porch bulb was on a motion sensor that wouldn't activate...and when it was fixed it'd come on for ten seconds and then shut off. But the worst bulb had to be the damn microwave bulb over the stove. It was used as a nightlight of sorts, so it wasn't really important, but more of an inconvenience.

The real pain in the ass however occured when I went to change it. It was at a slightly awkward angle, given my lack of height. So I unscrewed the old bulb and attempted blindly to find the socket without really being able to see it. And I managed to find the damn socket...with my finger. *Shock*

Moving on to Sunday. I slept late and managed to take another nap right around dinnertime, which meant it was dark in my room by the time I woke up. I flipped on the switch, the bulb popped, and there I was again, surrounded by darkness. On a Sunday. No maintenence in sight. And no sight in sight. And given that all I have right now in my room is a bed, a dresser and a fridge along with my belongings, and reading being my primary source of entertainment to the time being, well, there was none of that either.

Monday morning I tracked down the guy who does the cleaning and asked him for a light bulb, which he provided. He was an odd character; a smoke hanging by his chin while pushing his mop bucket, I felt like he was gonna ask me for some spare change or where he could find a good crack dealer. He spoke like he skipped a few grades of school, and not by his choosing. But he gave me a light bulb, and that's all that matters in this story.

I pulled my chair over and much to my surprise, the light fixture was barely out of reach. I even tried to stand on one of the plastic tubs of clothes I had strategically placed on the chair; to say it was unstable and unsafe would be a gross misjudgement. Rather than waste anymore time, I did what I usually do when I can't figure something out...I walk away and hope another answer comes to me by the time I'm ready to tackle the problem again. Which it did.

Remembering the janitor's early-morning missive about rearranging the furniture, I slid the dresser out to underneath the fixture and used the chair to climb atop the dresser. I turned my room into a wooden jungle gym in the name of having light...problem solved. Even if it's one of those energy-efficient bulbs that isn't nearly as bright as the old school power-sucking bulbs. Now if I could only make bulbs stop burning out wherever I go, I'd really have somethin' goin' on.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

How about a little inspiration for your day?



VITAL STATS:

*Pizza* I'll admit, I was warned. The pizza here isn't great. Especially at 10pm, when you get the last piece of cheese and pepperoni that's probably been sitting there for over an hour. Or maybe it's me, and I'm not crazy about thin-crust pizza. However you slice it, at $3 I expected a little more. But that's what I get I suppose.

*Female* I get it; the least of my priorities should be worrying about the female population here, and messing around in relationships and stuff. But hey, people get lonely and bored from time to time. But every woman I've met so far has kids and/or a significant other. Yikes! I'd prefer not to be dipping my toes in the significant other pool. My friend here does have one friend who's "looking" (I used quotes because that's my friend's word, not her friend's word or mine), but because of past history between me and my friend, she will not set me up with this girl and have been informed that nothing would happen anyway. And like most guys, when they hear that all they see is the green light to pursue...I don't need someone else telling me I'm not good enough! I can make women not want me all by myself, please and thank you! *Smirk*

So that's it for today...time to take it to the streets to make somethin' outta this life for a change. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

November 17, 2012 at 3:52pm
November 17, 2012 at 3:52pm
#766167
What's up, fine people? So, in a bit of a continuation from my previous entry, I made a big jump in life. I moved from the wonderful Western New York area of Buffalo all the way across the state to Cortland, which is just outside of Syracuse. I'm sure some are wondering, since I haven't really told very many people about what I've done, including those very close to me. And I'm positive some people will have their minds set on my motives, which I can assure you right now are incorrect.

My main goal of moving was to jump-start my life and get a fresh start, which I'm well on my way actually. I'd grown bored and stale; a bit complacent. I wasn't getting anywhere or doing anything. In being here about a week I've made many strides that I couldn't have imagined had I stayed stuck in the mud and dog shit of the past 37+ years. They say life is what you make of it...so I grabbed a new medium and I'm tagging my world all different ways. Feels good too.

It's fair to say that I have one friend out here, an old friend that I dated a long, long time ago who's since married and started a family. She's been a tremendous help so far in terms of, well, living, for one. She's introduced me to some of her friends and coworkers, and provided a few resources to help me get settled. I'm very thankful for that.

I'm still kinda waiting to exhale. It seemed like a blur getting over here. It's been quiet and lonely at times, but I'm a quiet and lonely person at times, so it's fitting. I've been catching up on reading, writing, and recharging my batteries. I have very few, if any, complaints so far, but give it time. *Smirk*

Wow...I really thought I'd have more to say about being here. I'm sure the minute I get to my room and settle in for the night I'll have tons of things bouncing in the back of my head and keeping me awake at night. Of that there is never a shortage.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Painting...



I love it. Pretty deep.

VITAL STATS:

*Smartphone* The old phone's dead...so I'm back to no steady internet. Oh well...poundin' out those resumes to make the time pass better, I figure.

And that's about all the time I have today in this little run of free time. Gonna check my books out at the library, make a sandwich and get on with the day I suppose...peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!
November 14, 2012 at 6:37pm
November 14, 2012 at 6:37pm
#765983
What's up y'all? I know it's been awhile, but so much has been going on and I've hardly been able to keep up. Maybe tomorrow I'll have a chance to fill in some gaps. Long story short? I moved. Not across the street or across town, but across the state. And NY's not exactly tiny. The hows and whys and all that aren't important. What's important is that I'm happy and I feel a sense of relief that I haven't felt in some time.

So I've updated my resume, sent a few out already, and crossing my fingers. I've accomplished more out here in less than a week than I did in the last few months of livin' in The 'Lo. It's ridiculous. Now all I've gotta do is start makin' some money and meetin' some people, and all will be right in the world. Or something.

I'll leave you with this...for years this was the soundtrack of going somewhere else, if we'd ever be lucky enough. Well, I am.



Hope everything's going well for everybody...so much for my contribution to this month's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS. Eh, whatever works. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!
November 5, 2012 at 4:30pm
November 5, 2012 at 4:30pm
#765026
THE PROMPT: "Certain senses can often provoke a memory. A smell, a sound, an image, etc. Write about a favorite memory that is conjured up by a smell, a song, or any other sense."

What's goin' on? Same ol' same ol' here. Par for the course, as the cool kids used to say.

In my current way of living, I find myself riding an escalator on a pretty regular basis; maybe more now than I've ever cared to notice. That old bastion of transportation, taking you up or down to a fixed destination. Unlike the road, it moves you to where you want to go. You get on, and then you get off. It's pretty reliable, I suppose.

Today, like many other days, I began my journey on this modernish miracle. I took that step...you know, that exaggerated step that says "I want to see the things that are on the floor above (or below) me. The step that commits you to the ride. I'd quickly realized that this step onto a giant metal moving staircase is something in all my years of escalatoring is something that I've apparently taken for granted.

I can't even say I was expecting it...you just know that that step has risen to meet your feet. Only today, there was turbulence. A shift. The always-reliable step moved, as if to say "Hang on buddy, somethin' ain't right here". I instantly got that feeling you get when somebody calls you "buddy", but you're not buddies.

In my ignorance of not having been on such an unstable grounding before, I barely had enough time to have a mini panic attack before anticipating the trip just before the trip, which you and I both know it makes you look worse than had you just manned up and accepted a little wipeout. In the process of grabbing for the moving handrail (just a thought: grab the rail before the step...idiots like me are the reason signs like that should be posted everywhere), my shin grazed that little curb between the stairs and the inside wall of the escalator.

I collected myself and did what any normal person would do: I put my head on a swivel and counted as many faces I could that turned away, as if they didn't just see me look ridiculous. I tried to play it off like the tap-dancing-on-escalators savant I'm not. But that faded by the time I hit the top, thanks to the gradual soreness that had increased slightly above my ankle.

My shin decided to have a tiny throb session. The irritating tingle felt vaguely familiar. I stopped, and instantly I felt a rush like you see on tv when a character is having a flashback.

There I was, back in junior high. I had one of those brushcuts that required a lot of gel so it could be spiky. My pants were pinned at the cuffs, just above my loafers. My glasses were bigger than my face was round, which was necessary to accommodate a mouth that wouldn't stop talking yang to some girl who was barely pretty enough to be out of my league but not as self-absorbed to at least entertain my nonsense for a brief moment.

And by "entertain", I mean "blast me in the shin with her 'I'm pretending to be a big girl in these strappy, pointy, heely' shoes". To which I would respond by nearly falling to the ground and trying not to shed a tear that would be magnified by 3x due to the Coke bottle nature of my lenses. Because really, that's the only option you've got when no words can escape your mouth because all you can do is squeal and wait for the wound to turn purple.

For days, you were afraid of air hitting the mark. Bruises like that tend to become a magnet for damn near everything the wind can blow, fall off a table, or heaven forbid, any other girl you might piss off. Lord knows no amount of shin kicks will teach boy in his early teens any kind of lesson.

And just like that, the flashback was over. I shook my head and realized I had managed to visualize that whole scenario as I was making my way to a chair. Amazing how teenage girls can make such an impression.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

I just wanted an excuse to hear this song.



And with that, I'm outta here for tonight. Been a stressful day. And my eyelids are getting heavy from the sleep aids and this tiny screen. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!
November 4, 2012 at 12:00am
November 4, 2012 at 12:00am
#764885
THE PROMPT: Brother Nature 's "Open Mic Night!!"

What's up y'all? I've gotta admit, and I know I've said it before, but sometimes the open prompts are more difficult to pull off than even the strangest of prompts. Especially when there's not a lot goin' on.

I made a few notes last night in preparation. Now I'm typing over them. What does that tell you about my note-making ability? *Rolleyes*

But I've got the mic and you've got the mosh pit!

I do have a little bit of news, however. The inmates have bumrushed the asylum for this month's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS, which I'm totally down with (all respect due to Mssrs. Earl and Thundersbeard, of course). Brother Nature has done a great job running the show for the first week, and he's asked me if I'd be interested in handling the prompts for the coming week. So I'll be doing that. I'm like a substitute for the substitute or something. That's kinda cool.

So then I thought about it...during "official" 30DBC's when we, the bloggers, are mandated to supply the prompts according to a schedule...ummm yeah, I always dreaded my turn. Even though I had time to think about it and usually came up with something decent, I still wasn't a fan of prompting for the people. That probably has something to do with the fact that when it comes to bitching about prompts I don't care for, I can get whiny like it's my passion.

But screw it. I'm gonna do it, and I'm gonna like it! I'm gonna press my grubby nose against the glass of authorship and put my fist through it. Results be damned! Caution, meet the mawfuggin' wind! If I'm gonna get fully on board with this optimism thing and try to make myself be a more positive person, is there not a better step to take than agreeing to something you're not fond of? Methinks not. Or is it "methinks so"? Geez...I sometimes start to confuse myself when I start throwing nots around. Yikes...and this is the guy tossing out your prompts. It's like taking over for Letterman on late-night tv and muffing the monologue. I'm weeping a little inside for the other challengers now.

Anyway, give Joel some props for the job he's done organizing and leading us into November. But this week, the 30DBC is headin' back to the states. Y'all been warned. *Smirk*

MUSICAL BREAK!!

I'm bangin' this out live and direct from Blackberry Central...I hope this shit works.

It's hard for me to fathom that this song is now over 10 years old. Everytime I hear it, or any song from that album, I immediately go back in time. I don't know what it is, but I feel that era of my life among the lyrics so much more than a lot of other music I listen to. The relatability between the music and the memories and the time...it's weirdly comforting. Hmmm...I smell a prompt in there somewhere! *Wink*



Someone's gonna have to tell me if it works. Stupid technology...the Blackberry browser doesn't show videos embedded in the blog. Shame on you, technology!

VITAL STATS:

*dog* I really hope there's a dog emoticon. I noticed awhile ago there were some new ones, but still not an official hockey one besides the one Joel makeshifted (and don't get me started on the lack of a true, legit WDC-accredited hockey emoticon). Anyway, I accompanied the dogs to a place where they do microchipping for pets. I don't really know why they do it; maybe it's so they can be upgraded down the road or something. "Hi, yes, we're here to upgrade the dog. I'd like one with more memory and a faster processor. Oh, and one that doesn't pee when you pick him up." Speaking of peeing, I'm sitting in the place you sit and wait while the paperwork gets filled out, with three leashed dogs, and the people at this place are fawning all over the cute puppy. Like they've never seen a cute puppy before (wait, maybe they haven't- this place is open like six hours a month). What does the cute puppy do to express his gratitude? He pissed on the floor. He left a cute little puddle. I was slightly non-plussed.

And this concludes "Open Mic Sunday Night". If you're driving, don't drink, and if ya drink, don't drive. I'm gonna grab me a snack and a smoke, and maybe some shut-eye after I hit the 30DBC forum. Peace out y'all, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!
November 3, 2012 at 1:23pm
November 3, 2012 at 1:23pm
#764817
THE PROMPT: "Are you a collector? If all things were possible, what would be your most interesting or outrageous collectible?"

Good afternoon, kind people. An interesting prompt from the great white north's Brother Nature . I'm sure I can add a little something to it.

The blanket statement would be easy to make; all people are collectors at some point. Some collect paychecks, some collect cars, and some are just collecting the next what-if.

Back in the day (which was sometime in the eighties), I collected. Boyish stuffs, mostly; bottle caps, stamps, baseball cards. Items I figured one day might have more real value to them than just the immeasurable value that would come from opening that pack of Topps cards, removing the stale, pink stick of gum suck to the back of the last card, and hoping for a Mike Schmidt or a Pete Rose or at the very least any New York Met.

I'm even sure I made a collect call or two back then. Probably just to do it. It didn't matter that it was from my home phone...you know, the one with the long cord and the rotary dial. This was long before cell phones and free long distance and even the 10-10-<insert number here> craze that phone companies loved to go overboard advertizing.

But at some point, I had to give that up. I wanted a collection of something that had more merit. Something tangible; something that provided some sort of real gratification. I wanted to be a part of a society, where I didn't have to answer questions like "Why did you do that?" or "What's that for?", or even the hows, whens and whys of "How'd last night go?". I collected. I became. The closets and dressers were full of the look the young adult male could succeed in. I acquired a vehicle that transported me to the masses. I was enamored with everything the radio told me I should like and listen to. My dough was freshly spread for the cookie-cutting machinations. And I fit right in.

With that, there is little worry and less to lose. It's safe. And it's when you think you've seen, done, and learned it all that you realize you're not even close to any of those things. It's in the transition from the life of valuables to a life of value that is the hardest and most rewarding of anything worth giving life to.

The male uniform collection went to the Goodwill and Amvets. Unplugged and smashed was the radio. Friends were told I'd be moving along, if I told them anything, because I wasn't going to be part of a crowd...I was the crowd itself now. If I flipped off the masses, those who smiled back were kept as genuine. One can only go through life for so long collecting, until you realize there's a few rare pieces out there that only the most adamant of collectors will find at any given cost. Most settle for the biggest incomplete collection, silently knowing the holes will never be filled but trying anyway to patch them. The fastest car, the biggest tv, the loudest gun, the strongest liquor. The shine distracting the lesser eyes over what's not there.

I decided rather than to chase pieces of a set of something I'd never find, I'd take bits of futures, presents and pasts. There was no longer a point in collecting, for what I had now was a collection, and it wasn't something you could easily replace from a pawn shop. It was a life collected of value instead of valuable collectables. It wasn't to be heard over the speakers of my boomin' stereo, or purposed for reality tv, or dressed in the latest fly gear. The only interest rate was what I cared about it, and the only question I needed to answer was "What next?". When you've collected a whole set of something, you're done. When the collection is you, you've just begun, and there's no checklist that tells you what you can or can't keep. All I have now is me.

The reminders of what my adult self valued as collectable are still present, because that's all I collect now...what I can still pull from memories. The brilliant fashions, the soundtrack of beats, the authors who strung sentences together that allowed me to live in a life of their creation, the bottles adorned with and filled of humorous and delectible art, the characters creating moments to be relived in better times. These are the things I collect now. I'm lucky to have them. They don't fit in a box and I don't allow them to take up more space than I have, for I know what's on my mind is heavy enough to have to transport when you don't have the room to add more life to what you've already accumulated. I only keep what I can carry these days, and I make sure that it's just what I can't do without. For while it's safer sometimes to have it all and know it, it's easier to know that what little you have is worth more than everything that can be pulled away from you at a moments' notice. It's not what you collect, but how you contain it.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

I've always appreciated the poetry of this song. There's always been points in my life that I find myself going back to it, possibly to remind myself, which is ironic in that the message of the song is, in fact, the opposite.

World Container

There's a world container with your name on it
and a billion ways to go berserk
when the country quits on you
it must be dinner
and the Himmler on this one is, there's no dessert
(he's the one who couldn't imagine
all the people living life in peace, yoo hoo oo oo oo)
Good news! You get to vanish
go to Cleveland, be an indie smash
the good news is now you're smaller
the bad news is you can be smaller than that
Go suck some souls, be a reader, get used
laugh at a funeral or two
laugh and laugh til all the chameleons turn black
laugh and laugh til you're told, 'Please don't come back'
then fake incredulous, say, 'I just can't believe!
How'd it get this late so early?'
say, 'Ain't life a grand' and 'I'm in awe of y'all'
then drop into your haunted bunk
go to your touchless times
out where the water's drying
go past the 'No Attractions Past This Point' sign
what you'll find there are all flaws in progress
where all songs are one song and that song is, Don't Forget
yea, all songs are one song and that song is, Don't Forget

Yea, I've faked incredulous, said, 'I just can't believe.
How'd it get this late so early'
said, 'Ain't life a grand' and 'I'm in awe of y'all'
I've dropped into my haunted bunk
been to the touchless times,
out where the water's drying
been past the 'No Attractions Past This Point' sign
what we have here are all flaws in progress
where all songs are one song and that song is, Don't Forget
where all songs are one song and that song is, Don't Forget
where all songs are one song and that song is, Don't Forget




VITAL STATS:

*Books1* Over two days I managed to read the memoir You Can't Catch Death by Ianthe Brautigan, the daughter of Richard. I've always admired his works since an old friend introduced them to me. I get sucked into his works not only because they're a quick read, but the beauty in the simplicity is understated. He was a genius; ahead of his time for awhile, until time (and other vices) caught up with him. To read his daughter's account is more than just the standard "pulling back of the curtain"...it's deeper and more complex, yet it feels eerily real. If someone were to write a biography of me someday, I think some of the parallels are set within the bindings of that book.

*Smartphone* In other news, another Saturday night shall be spent at home, cleaning and either streaming the rest of the Notre Dame football game or nineties grunge on my phone. I know you're jealous. I may even spread some of that out until Sunday...I'll have no access to a computer and maybe limited internet access at best, so I'll be spreading out my enjoyment for as long as I can.

And that's as far as I can take you today. Everybody be good...peace, love, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!


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