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 |   A third attempt at this blogging business. |
 30-DAY BLOG CHALLENGE WINNER FOR SEPTEMBER 2011 AND APRIL 2012!!  BLOGGING CIRCLE OF FRIENDS "BLOGGER OF THE WEEK" MAY, SEPTEMBER, AND NOVEMBER 2013 JANUARY, FEBRUARY, AND JUNE 2014 After 380 entries and over 17,600 views, it was time to retire "Who Do I Think I Am??"  . Expect more of the same shenanigans and troublemaking you've come to know and love from me over the last few years. Tell all your friends, warn your family and hide this from your neighbors...this isn't your average blog.   
Thanks for stopping by and showing your support!    THIS BLOG IS NOW CLOSED.
Continue along on my journey over at "Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am" . |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Convince me that the Easter Bunny is for real. Explain the relationship between Jesus, and the Easter bunny, and how this holy holiday of Easter has come to be celebrated in the twenty first century - more than two thousand years later. Bonus question: How do chocolate and painted eggs figure into the equation?" ** Image ID #1984335 Unavailable ** Hey folks! Sorry it's been so long...I haven't been in the mood to do much of anything lately, including taking part in the festivities down at "Invalid Item" . I see it was shut down by Brother Nature   's and my longtime nemesis, Sister Mary Marguerite Mahnamahna. *shakes fist* Curses! I'll get you yet, Sister!! Good to see though that we've been able to find the back door into the place...I'd hate to think of all my friends drowning their sorrows in a back alley upon seeing the notice that their favorite cyber watering hole run by an imaginary monkey was closed due to numerous health code violations and infractions an overzealous anti-grammarian hell-bent on the destruction of the creative process for her own twisted sense of greed and entitlement. In case you're wondering, this Mary Muggingsworth you've heard us speak of on occasion is a real person. No joke (contrary to what the title of this entry says). We dare not speak her name in certain circles; I know of people who have avoided certain events on WDC because of her presence, and at least one friend of mine has chosen no longer to be a part of this website in part because of her rather childish and eccentric no, her flat out batshit crazy behavior. Luckily, she's blocked a few of us already from viewing her portfolio and participating in her overall outlandishness, but at times when her name has come up I've strongly suggested the opposite of a glowing reference on her behalf...which is why I rarely speak of her unless she's spoken about first. And with that, I'll say no more and turn my attention to items of more importance. This Easter Bunny thing...yes, we know he's not real (Spoiler Alert for those of you under the age of, like, eight who are reading this...but if that is the case, I suggest you immediately close your browser or whatever and consult an adult who actually cares about you enough to make sure you're not reading this). I have no other way into or around this topic. I'm not good at making things up (as you'll find out later on in this entry). Instead I'll share with you a story from my past, if that's alright with you guys. I don't know how old I was exactly, but it was that "on the fence" age where you're not entirely sure whether to believe mythical beings like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are real. You want to hold on to that last thread of childhood, yet still look tough at the bus stop in front of the kids who think you're a pussy if you're proclaiming it's the bunny leaving the candy and not your folks. So the night before that Easter Sunday, I went to sleep with nervous anticipation like I'm sure many kids do...and I woke up in the middle of the night, or did I? I wasn't sure if I was having a nightmare, or if I was hallucinating, or both, but I was in a kind of a shock/panic state...in the dark without my glasses on I could see this weird cross between the Pink Panther and the bunnies Snoopy danced with in the Charlie Brown Easter Special (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRwsTyUPIYE), holding a basket with eggs, chocolates and fake grass dancing flippantly just outside of my bedroom. And being the little wuss I was, I probably started crying because I didn't know what else to think. From that night on, every Spring around Easter until we moved out of that house, I would see that same vision. It became less frightening, but it still was kinda spooky because I'd remember how evil it looked, even if I knew it meant no harm. Immediately in my head I'd hear the Charlie Brown music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBPcoI4OE9Y) and wouldn't be able to go back to sleep peacefully. I think I failed the first part of the prompt, because I don't find any correlation between Jesus and the Easter Bunny, nor can I feel confident in trying to convince anyone there's such a thing as either Jesus or an Easter Bunny. I know, sacrilege!! But let's put my disbeliefs aside, please, and focus now on the latter portion of this prompt, kay? "Easter Egg Hunts" in the later portion of the 20th century through today, from my experience, are anything but. And it's surprising that some of them can actually be ran by churches, no less. Long gone are the days eggs (of any nature, chicken-based or plastic) are hidden...now it's a raffle instead. Pay your admission fee, get some tickets, and sit and wait for your number to hopefully be called. What a bunch of bullshit! That's not fun for kids, and if anything, it just introduces them to entry-level gambling. There's nothing remotely "hunt" about it. Last I checked, sitting still and being quiet weren't the same as traipsing over some open field hoping to find eggs of any kind. There's no Jesus in that! And what was our reward for being well-behaved (because nobody won the mega-big bunny unless they knew someone runnin' the foolishness)? We could go to church. To get our baskets blessed. On a Saturday. Mind you, this was the day before the longest mass of the Catholic year. And Lord, He of all people, knows, there ain't no candy waitin' for you at the end of the basket blessin'. There's, in my case, nightmares. I won't even go into the whole "Easter Best" attire, because I'm feeling the weight of the traumatization in recalling the events as it is...and I can't imagine what it musta been like for all y'all Catholic kids of any denomination that had to dress like every day was a church-goin' occasion. As I got older and Easter turned into another gift-giving, Hallmark-sponsored holiday extravaganza, one thing became prevalent: people spend money on this and take it seriously. I...don't. But I'm still into the tradition of the hiding of Easter baskets...that never seems to grow old. Maybe it's all the time I spent in retail, making sure other people could have the experiences they wanted to have...being on the business end of it. Suffering for the almighty dollar in companies that couldn't give a damn what your holiday plans were while making sure you knew the CEO extended his wishes before he spent copious amounts of time nailing his assistant carving a pineapple-glazed ham with his family. Ain't no Jesus up in that, either. Sorry not sorry if you're offended by my take on this holy time of year. Years of therapy and counseling peeling back the layers of the onion still reveal an onion, I guess. That doesn't stop me from shoveling Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs down my gullet...hands down...best time of year for seasonal treats. BCF PROMPT: "This is Palindrome Week: 4/13/14, 4/14/14, 4/15/14, 4/16/14, 4/17/14, 4/18/14, 4/19/14 - Write a short story or a poem whose title is a palindrome about this week." Ok, so, I'm not into writing "short stories" because a blog in my opinion isn't designed for that. A blog already is a short story unto itself. I'm not gonna debate the merits of one over the other or the hows and whys or why nots. Not the time nor place. I will admit that the thought of this week's dates being a palindrome was kinda fun...until I saw about 294 Facebook posts about it, and that sort of repetition kills me in ways I'm not already dead inside from. So what I'm about to do...is something I don't do very often. It was the early hallmark (not the company...Google the definition if you have to because I won't insult your intelligence otherwise) of my WDC days...I'm gonna invent a poem on the spot, in this open text box, live, no notes or edits. Just like I did back in the days of "The Computer Age" (although I doubt some of those items are in their original form). Palindromeda A star is born the day one dies. We don't have access to meanings that aren't slanted otherwise. We know what we're told, and what we're given, but there's too many of so many to keep track of properly. A star, a symbol, a martyr; born the day our youth dies. We don't know how or why. Beginning to end and back again, our mark is more of what we become and less of what we leave behind. The slashes and spots paint us like the same stars we see dying as another one starts to grow. Don't be the fade... be the reason. The comeback of something that wasn't supposed to go away. A star being born on the day like any other day of them has no reason not to be seen as it is. Not until you drop and start back from where you came. MUSICAL BREAK!! I...no, I'm gonna be blunt. Charlie ~  , I'm calling you out by name. I know I should be sympathetic, and I understand the short-term gets in the way a lot. And maybe I've overstepped my boundaries a bit, and maybe I'm missing the point (I do that a lot). I go along with the gags and precepts often enough, and it takes me awhile to catch on sometimes, but if all you have to consider is those immediately affected by you, and they're not wanting to be around you anymore, I don't care how functional you are. Someone is looking for something in you they know exists, but can't/won't/refuses to find it because they know. I can't help but seeing the way things are spread out, the excuses and the offhanded placing of blame when I read your words. I see reflections. I was the same fucking way. I know you're not me and we all have our reasons and struggles. Instead of sympathizing, I wish you wouldn't have to go through any of it. I guess that's what I've been trying to get at the last few times I've chimed in on your situation. I want to feel bad because I like you, Charlie...but haven't we fuckin' all been through it? Some are destined for the happy family. Some get the job and the girl. We get our fix from what will eventually kill us if we're not smart...and by "smart" I don't mean hiding it or carrying on like it's not a big deal. Life can and will make you absolutely question your sanity. And I'm the last person you need telling you that, because I don't want to be a lesson or an example. Ugh. I hate being preachy. I guess I'll end that rant there.So, ahem, yeah, anyway...Soul Coughing was genius back in the late nineties...fell in love with this band and the poetics of the lyrics against the musicality of the band...I'm feeling deflated as I type. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Waiting on my financial aid queries. I submitted my application to http://www.tc3.edu/ and from this point on all I have is hope. Doesn't help that my high school of record is now on Spring Break or that my last college of attendance requires a fee to send transcripts (I admittedly wish they don't need to send). But things in that regard are looking up. Yay me!! Or something.   Then there's this...  And then my beloved Buffalo Sabres, who couldn't seem to win at losing all season long, hit rock bottom not only by being the worst team in the NHL this year...but they lost the lottery weighed in their favor for the right to have the first pick in this year's draft of prospects, college kids, and other board bangers. I won't bore you with details or fancy Twitter pics of my reaction, but it was something like "Losingest losers lose again to losers", or something. Sucks being a hockey fan around here. Got the office supplies taken out of my leg today. Kinda hurt, kinda bled, but I'll live. Still have holes in the bones, but I guess that's to be expected. That means a week and a half of shutting up about it, staying the course, and praying I don't bleed through my socks. Still booted when I strive for public necessities, and the crutch only helps me put two feet on the ground when I need to walk. I'm so over it, but the calcium deposits leftover from the initial bone breakage that will be there from "the duration of, well, this" will always be there, and I guess I'll be better in a year or so because I'll "always feel something in there". As much as I want to curse loudly in question of the prognosis, I should be better prepared to getting used to a stupid leg minus pills and metal stuff in it.Whew! I guess it's not that bad, doing this when it's not totally expected (although I feel terrible about not having an entry on the ready for "Invalid Item" , but then again, nobody's found my eggs yet and I made it easy-ish off the bat to find them). I have been feeling the need to nap a lot lately, and I may just indulge in that now while I can. Peace, you don't use words like that, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "We all have our own idea of what a perfect world would look like. What does your perfect world look like? What part of your real life wouldn't be part of your perfect world. Is there anything you currently enjoy that can't be part of your perfect world?" ** Image ID #1984335 Unavailable ** What's up, players? I think it's time to finally make steps (trepidatiously) to "Invalid Item" so I can catch up with some of my old crew. I'd love to say I'd just sneak in through the back and grab a booth in the corner to sip from a bottle my premium Fivesixer's Magical Elixir (no joke...it's the most expensive stuff on the menu and the glass it's served in is marked off by its own velvet rope) while quietly observing the action around me, but you guys and gals won't have none of that once you figure out it's me under that hat. So glasses up, first round of shots is on me, and ¡salud!The idea of a perfect world always seems to end up complicated and unattainable by nature...but then again does anything worth having also come easy and without cost (physically, emotionally, or otherwise)? There's money, fame, extravagance, excess...but that doesn't necessarily signify utopia. And because I know that I'm not just gonna wake up one day and be like "Yup, this is it!", I have a hard time trying to figure what the "Perfect World" would look like from my perspective. Maybe it should just be simple...it doesn't need to include all the spoils that come with the territory. It wouldn't require seven different types of meds to function hand-in-hand like a normal, happy, well-adjusted person or combat the side effects of that. It doesn't require being driven around by the transit bus driver or a chauffer. My house doesn't need more than one bathroom or other folks inhabiting it than I care to clean up after. Screw this "Perfect World" nonsense...mine would be a normal existence, a decent job that doesn't make me wanna choke people, and the same opportunities in life that everyone seems afforded. The ability to deal with everyday struggles and successes would be nice too. I can't even say the "Perfect World" would involve the removal of all the people who piss me off or situations that would frustrate me, 'cuz then that'd get kinda boring and I'd have an even harder time coming up with enough material to stick in this space of internet continuum that people seem to like once in awhile. But I could live without the idea of it being socially acceptable to be forced to be nice to people. When we're young we're told "honesty is the best policy" and "the truth will set you free", yet every day how often are you asked "How are you today?" by someone who in reality probably doesn't care and you respond with "Fine, thanks!" even though you're really not and you know the person asking doesn't wanna hear your sob story? To hell with that. I wanna walk into a store, get greeted with "What the hell do you want?" and snap at them "Peanut butter cups...I want all the fucking peanut butter cups I can carry. And no, I don't wanna donate a dollar to your stupid charity either...not yesterday, not today, and not next week. Never." In fact, if I could not get greeted at all, I'd probably appreciate that even more. Unless there's a little thought bubble appearing over my head that says "  Say something nice to this guy today to cheer him up." That, I'm ok with.The stuff I do enjoy that wouldn't be in my "Perfect World"? Now that's a hard question. I could do without baseball cards, but then again I probably haven't bought a pack of cards since I was 14. Technology? Too reliant on it. Same with hot water. The Spaghettios with the sliced hot dogs in 'em? Eventually I'd find myself just going the extra couple of steps and making my own hot dogs to put up in that mess of nutritional waste anyway. Even fruit...I like a variety of different fruits (but separately; not all mixed up together) although I hardly eat them anymore or as much as I should be, but then where would all the fun bloggers be hangin' out at this month? Andre's of Manitoba Curling Pub & Pretzel House? (That does kinda have a nice ring to it though.) Maybe the question should more look like "What amazing thing would you be willing to give up/part with if it meant living in your ideal existence?" Still a hard question, but it's a little more malleable. I'd give up late-night television. I'd probably fall asleep faster, rest better, and then down the road think "Hey, there's this void in life between the hours of 11:30pm and 1:30am, and SportsCenter will only be repeats until the morning, and sometimes people laugh at the stuff I do and say...maybe I can make some money and have some fun, if I could only find a way to get people to pay for the opportunity of having me get them to laugh." Not only would life be perfect, but then I'd be, like, legendary and stuff. Which then negates damn near everything I railed against in the first few paragraphs of this entry. The circle of life...sigh. Otherwise, catch me in the corner booth of "Invalid Item" , mindin' my biz until it's your turn to get the next round, and don't be stingy.BCF PROMPT: "What are you most skilled in?" Before I answer this, I should probably mention that my ten Easter Eggs are hidden in my port for the "Invalid Item" , but I should warn you that you'll have to be a member of the "Blogging Circle of Friends " if you want to participate. I didn't know that going in when I plugged the contest, although I probably subconsciously did and paid it no mind. I guess if you really wanted to, you could still search for the Eggs, and then maybe offer a bribe "help" the other participants find them, but that doesn't help me much so for that reason alone I'm not advocating a rigging of the system (that's some February Blog Mob type of game if I ever heard it). So all's fair and copacetic on my end.Now, I wouldn't say that I have any skills that I'm particularly fond of, but then again I'm not one to speak very highly of things that I know I do better than others anyway, because I wouldn't want to be on the flipside of that coin having to hear about how well you can do things that I coincidently am not so talented at. You'll be like "I can make my eggs better than you can" or "my babymama's kids are prettier than you" and I'll politely smile sheepishly while wanting to punch your stupid kids out for having a dumb babydaddy (maybe that's why we're discouraged from telling and/or acting upon the truth, as I noted in the first part of today's entry). Back in the day though, I had a pretty decent jump shot. Not so much today. And I can drink a six-pack of Mountain Dew and still stand still. Ok, that's a lie, but not for lack of effort. Is being inconsistent a skill? 'Cuz I'm pretty stellar at being inconsistent, if I do say so myself (*looks around* *hopes nobody's ever said that before* *rolls eyes at his own lame attempt at humor* *rolls his eyes again at referring to himself as "him"*). Wow...I think I've really got nothin' for this prompt. Go find my Easter Eggs!! I will say, however, I've re-mastered the art of going up and down stairs while on crutches, but grocery shopping...well, not so much. [Side note: Damn all you old people for hoggin' up all the motorized shopping carts at the supermega grocery store during a busy afternoon, because I don't know how to pay attention to where I'm goin' while having to push a regular cart manually while wearing a giant fucking inflatable boot on my leg. I swear if there's one staple out of place once I unwrap this damn leg, I'm throwing a rock through the window of the closest senior citizen center I come by.] If there were a gold medal at some kind of alternate reality Olympics (non-store division) for maneuvering with the assistance of crutches, I'll be more than happy to tell you how much I should win it (note that I didn't say "want to win it"). There's like 400 billion things in the world (give or take a few) I could be good at...and that's the best I can do today. Ask me again tomorrow. Maybe I'll wake up having been gifted with some other crazy talent no one's ever heard before. MUSICAL BREAK!! You don't need to know what they are...just know I've got 'em. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  So yeah, today was the first day I really decided to go anywhere besides my block since the day after I got out of the hospital, and like I said, I don't know what I'm doin' when I'm grocery shopping. On the plus side, I didn't destroy anything by ramming into it with a motorized shopping cart designed for people with bigger problems than me ("This one's not about the Oscars." ). What I did do, in the absence of thought while seeing more than a handful of people in one area at any given time recently, was step on the wheel of the cart with my bad leg as I was pushing it. And it hurt. I think it hurt my knee more, actually, but it still wasn't fun. And could I do this in an aisle; maybe one hardly anyone goes down this time of year, like the school supplies section or the "too cold for summer, too warm for winter" area of products in limbo? Nope. Had to do it in front of half the city of Cortland, between the customer service area and all the open check-out registers. But nobody...I say nobody...says "Ow!" and "Dammit!" in public and then keeps pushin' his cart with two crutches stickin' out in every direction like he didn't just try to run over his own awkward, stapled-shut leg like me. Go on, print this out, grab your red pencil, and scribble that last sentence up in the "Blogging Circle of Friends " prompt portion of this entry. I'll wait. And how dare that damn grocery store be out of slices of their amazing breakfast pizza at 3:30 in the afternoon? No words, Tops Friendly Market...no words for you about this total lack of judgment on behalf of your Carry-Out Café staff. And I think that's about enough excitement for one day. Time to see what kind of damage (if any) I've done to the stuff holding my leg together, medicate, and see how much trouble everyone else is trying to talk themselves out of at Andre's. Peace, it's the Futterman's Rule, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: I'm so confused as to what's going on at the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" right now. Too many rules and stipulations and I don't feel like reading or being compliant. I'm honored though that there's a drink named after me in Andre's Banana Bar...and that alone is enough for me to consider it a quality establishment. What's up y'all? I figure it's a good time for me to check in and see what's goin' on around here. No, this isn't a legit comeback...that'll probably happen in May to coincide with the next "official" 30DBC. I'm gonna take my time, make myself comfortable, and move on from there. Before I talk about me, which I'm sure you're dying to know more of, I need to say a few words about yesterday, which in my opinion was one of the sadder days in the many years I've been a WDC member. As I'm sure many of you have heard, Emily  will be phasing herself out of WDC in the coming weeks. Included in this will be her relinquishing control of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , which has become under her leadership one of the best activities on WDC. She restored faith and sensibility to a fickle group that was largely dismayed by its then-current leadership. Emily went above and beyond what was required of her, and ensured that the 30DBC would not only survive and thrive, but that the concerns of long-time participants would also be met. That's huge, and I don't know that I ever thanked her properly for that. In fact, everyone who's taken part in a 30DBC the last few years should step up and acknowledge all that Em's done for us and the blogging community. I shudder to think what the virtual landscape would look like without her presence (Sister Mary Margaret, anyone?).I'm very thankful to see she'll be leaving the 30DBC in capable hands, whomever that may be. Nobody likes change, but the transition shouldn't be too hard. I don't know if there's any speculation about who should undertake the group, and it's not my place to try and get involved. I know who I'd like to see leading us, but again, I'm not at liberty to spit names based on speculation or "what I want". Besides...what weight does my opinion carry, and I think the change would've already been made if it was who I thought it'd be given to. But hey, let's celebrate Emily while we've still got her. Her impact is immeasurable, and she will certainly be missed.BCF PROMPT: Not sure what's happening here either...the  sign is up; does that mean I'm not allowed on Sunday to write for Saturday's prompt? Pshhh...whatever. I don't even know what the latest prompt was; lately I've just been in a mass-delete kind of mood when it comes to emails. That's a habit I'll have to break myself from sooner than later.MUSICAL BREAK!! Dunno why, but I couldn't get this out of my head this morning... THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 12: So yes, last Tuesday I had surgery on my left ankle for the third time; I had the last of the screws and the plate taken out ("Note: Hi everyone...surgery went well and I'm restin..."). Today I finally decided to brave the wound and investigate it a little...turns out this time I wasn't stitched up, but stapled. Twelve times to be exact (if my math's right). I've been trying to take it easy the last couple of days, letting modern medicine do its thing. But I've never been stapled before, so I can't imagine when it's time for them to come out it's gonna be an easy thing. I wanna take a second though to thank everyone who sent kind wishes my way...I'm so appreciative and lucky to know people were concerned about me.  I don't remember anything about the procedure at all...I specifically requested to be sedated throughout. I do remember being in the room with my mom when the doctor first came in to mark up my leg and reassure me that it was gonna be easy. He even tried to lighten things up by drawing a smiley face on my leg, which I really didn't think much of. Next thing I knew, I was shot up...and I awoke in the same room (I have no recollection of being in recovery or anything). Later that day I was going over my orders from the hospital about what I could and could not do, and I'm totally at a loss why the doctor decided it was somehow funny or cool to draw a smiley face on that form...  When did McDonalds stop offering hot mustard sauce with their McNuggets? I don't eat there very often, but when I do it somehow turns into a spectacle. We went there Tuesday night because I couldn't make up my mind and there was one around the corner from the hotel we stayed at, and McNuggets are my go-to staple when I don't know what I want. First I was confused because the girl at the counter was training someone else, and she greeted us with something along the lines of "She'll be helping you today", which I didn't know how to respond to, so I kinda looked at nobody while placing my order. I then learned about the "no hot mustard" situation, and was offered honey mustard instead (which I find to be thoroughly gross). I settled for Buffalo sauce, and continued with my order...one fresh, hot apple pie. I was then informed it would be an eight minute wait, because apparently dessert items shouldn't be ordered around peak dinner times like 7pm. I told the cashier doing the training that I was gonna fight her, and that I "had a rough day" (because I'm standing on crutches in pajamas while hazed out on Tylenol with Codeine). The next day, after doing some shopping, we stopped again at a different McDonalds (it was next door/across the street from some of the stores we visited)...and no hot mustard sauce! It's been discontinued! I literally backed up, cancelled my order process, and said "This changes everything." I'm very upset by this. I remember when Chicken McNuggets were first introduced at McDonalds...some girl was holding a sandwich board-style tray giving sample McNuggets out, and hot mustard was my sauce of choice. Sure, I'd occasionally go for barbecue, but their bbq sauce has always been kinda gross and it's only good for dipping fries in (and McDonalds' fries are gross in a whole 'nother entry kinda way), and I don't think I even tried the sweet 'n sour sauce until I was in my 20's. I believe I was six years old when McNuggets became a thing...and you know what that means... The clown has let him down.  I did manage to get some news jeans the other day, thanks to my mom...which is kinda ironic because I needed them but won't be able to wear them while I'm rockin' the sweet inflatable boot on my cranky shitkicker. Adam Levine, I don't care for your music one bit, but thank you for putting out a line of clothing that would eventually be marked down at Kmart. Jeans that fit my fat ass for $4? I'll take 'em. Also picked up my new glasses, which kinda help me see better. But they're a pain in the ass to keep clean...the lenses tend to wear smudges more frequently, which sorta negates the purpose of clearer vision. No new selfies from this point on.  If you need a feel-good story about someone who's gone through an excruciating injury and a lengthy recovery, I'm not your guy. http://www.buffalonews.com/columns/bucky-gleason/everett-finds-peace-as-a-husban... It doesn't get much more embarrassing than having a rather filthy dream and talking in your sleep about it, and then dreaming that your mother is chastising you because of it, only to wake up and realize that yes, you were talking in your sleep and no, she did not talk back to you, but you had to clarify that you were indeed talking in your sleep and why the next morning while sharing a hotel room with her.Well, I think I'm done here...I'm sure many other things have happened in recent days or weeks, and I'm sure I've had something to say about them, but I hear a bottle of painkillers and a pillow callin' out my name. It's been nice catching up. Peace, so spaced out, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! Searching "broken leg" anything on YouTube doesn't pull up what you'd expect it to. |
| Hello friends, rivals, and everyone in-between...no prompts for me today. Barely even looked at 'em...didn't want to be tempted to try killin' another couple hours for nothin'. Having nearly an entire blog entry vanish in front of you does crazy things to your head sometimes. I couldn't even be mad; I basically went to bed and tried not to think about it. Well, there was this first: "Note: Here's the highlights from the blog entry I ju...". And tonight'll probably be another early night for me as well. Truth is, I'm starting to feel emotionally spent again, which is a sign that I need to pull back a little. I've got a lot on my mind and very little of it is coming out in what I do here...and that's not good enough for me. You'd think with having more time to get certain things done and in order, I'd be a lot more settled and in control, but it's just the opposite and I'm trying not to feel overwhelmed. I guess losing an entry...well, worse things could happen, but it was probably the kick in the ass I needed. And I knew I probably shouldn't have gone into the Blog Mob head-first in February, but I figured I'd ride some of the momentum I'd gained in January, all the while knowing I could bow out at any time yet writing myself deeper into the whole scene. And the next thing I know, it's March and the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" is official again and I don't know how to just say no to that. The kinda forced week off was another big green neon sign telling me I should probably slow down, but they're just too damn easy to ignore.Anyway, I guess with bein' laid up next week and unsure of how I'll feel in the days immediately afterward, it's probably a good time to give myself a proper break. Might be a few days, might be a couple weeks...not sure yet. It probably won't be too long and you won't even know I'm gone...WDC doesn't shut down just because I need to regroup a little, lay around shirtless in pajama pants, and pick Dorito crumbs out of my beard while I'm waiting for my Big Cup Of Noodles to heat up. You'll all still write, and eventually I'll miss it and y'all just enough to jump back in, and it'll be almost like old times again. So after I spend Friday and Saturday (and maybe even a little bit of time on Sunday) finishing up a few things, if you don't hear from me for awhile it's ok. I'll probably limit myself to reading emails and feeling less obligated, because things are more fun when you don't feel like they have to be done, and I've been down that road enough to know I was starting to get way too close to that point. To quote the immortal words of Jerry Springer, "'Til next time, take care of yourselves...and each other". Peace, 'til no one catches you, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! It's no crime... there's still time to escape. |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What is one of your favorite tourist attractions from your hometown? In other words, what site do you absolutely insist your friends see when they visit?" Good evening friends...after what turned out to be another frustrating day with this internet and not being able to connect to it, I almost wish I hadn't (although that wouldn't make the news any less significant). It's not always easy being from Buffalo, but we're nothing if not resilient and I shouldn't be whining about anything when there's certainly more important things going on in the world. I know this entry isn't gonna interest a lot of you, because "wahhhh this is a writing website wahhhh and nobody cares about sports wahhhh"...well, I don't care that you don't care if that's your attitude (which is a pretty awful one to have, but I'll save those curse words for another day). The city of Buffalo and the entire sport of professional football lost a great man today...a visionary, a righteous small-market leader in an ever-increasing league of deep-pocketed greed mongers, and a remarkable gentleman. Ralph C. Wilson, the longtime owner of the Buffalo Bills, passed away this afternoon at age 95 (http://espn.go.com/nfl/story/_/id/10671922/ralph-wilson-buffalo-bills-owner-dies...). Originally I was gonna make this entry about chicken wings, because let's face it...besides snow, that's what Buffalo's known for. But the seemingly bimonthly obligation to honoring the best of our hometowns in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" will be riding shotgun to one of the most unique experiences around...tailgating outside of Ralph Wilson Stadium (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ralph_Wilson_Stadium).Sure, lots of cities that host major league events claim to have a "tailgate-like" atmosphere, but the reality is that I don't believe anywhere does it quite like Bills fans do. Lots open up days (not hours; days) in advance...people from all over the country have been known to show up with RV's and busloads of fans as early as Thursday for a Sunday afternoon kickoff. The grills are fired up, the beers are in the cooler, at the atmosphere is similar to an outdoor concert. Only, instead of a couple thousand people, there's over seventy thousand loud, screaming fans, most dressed up in the familiar shades of red, white and blue. And unlike the summer, you can see this anytime there's a home game between September and December...in all kinds of crazy WNY weather conditions. The team on the field hasn't been much to cheer for in the last 15 years or so...but you'd almost never know by the revelry surrounding RWS. I've probably been to six or seven games, and it's really unbelievable. TV cameras definitely don't do the game day experience justice...there's just so much going on all over the place. You can park in one of the stadium lots or within reasonable walking distance, stop and meet up with friends along the way, have a few burgers or beers, and enjoy a fall or winter afternoon unlike any other. In an era of corporate greed presence where everything is a brand, Ralph Wilson Stadium is one of the few currently in professional sports that doesn't bear the name of a bank or a restaurant or a cable company (although when it originally opened RWS became one of the first building to have a "naming rights deal")...the stadium now bears the name of the man from Detroit who, 55 years ago, sunk down $25,000 for the right to own a franchise in a league constructed to compete with the National Football League; a team he would own until the very day he passed away. Today the Bills are estimated to be worth $870 million (http://www.forbes.com/teams/buffalo-bills/), thanks in part to Mr. Wilson's dedication and perseverance. As Buffalo's population declines yearly at more than just a trickle, one thing remains constant: the support we have for our Bills. Rest in peace, Mr. Wilson. The NFL and the area would've never been the same without you. BCF PROMPT: "Do you have animals in your life? If yes, what do they mean to you? If no, why have you opted not to?" I do not have any animals in my life, which I'm sure probably makes me among the minority on WDC. Furthermore, I've never even gone out of my way to own or accommodate one. That time I was dating that chick and was spending most of my nights at her house and we made the joint decision to "babysit" her brother's cat only to basically take him in on a permanent basis? I lied...it wasn't really a "joint decision". Was I supposed to look like a dick and say no to her? It's not that I don't like animals. Well, I don't care for cats...they're pompous and all sorts of other adjectives I won't mention because of the recent losses of four-legged friends suffered by several WDC members as of late. Which really, I've thought of about 500 cat jokes in the last ten minutes, and by not including them in today's entry I'm basically saying "today's post sucks", but think back to the top of this entry where I mentioned the passing of the owner of my local football team, and how many of you had initial thoughts like "so what" and "  " and "sports are stupid". Well, just remember I didn't say anything derogatory today about owning a cat. And whoo boy, it's kinda killin' me not to.I would've liked to own a dog. Obviously I can't right now because of space limitations, financial reasons, and other concerns, but I'd like to think someday I'll be able to rescue a cute little puppy that stays little when it's not a puppy anymore. Of the animals I've lived with (outside of a couple goldfish I've probably won at the county fair when I was younger), I didn't even get so much as a say in what or who or anything. It's always been...come home, and there's a new pet, or "wanna live with me, ok, well, I've got kids pets". And screw that, because with either of those situations comes the obligations and responsibilities, and equals not a two-way street. Don't be all thrustin' your animal at me, when I didn't even get a chance to have my name for it disconsidered! Can I just remind you that I'm having no fun writing this entry while trying to hold off the many tirades I could've spiraled this entry down uncontrollably? Cool, thanks. And I just remembered that I can't even joke about pets with people names, 'cuz, well, that thing I said about the recent spate of animal companions going to that playplace they go to when they can't play on Earth no more. Sigh. I was really bummed out at the beginning of this entry, and felt better after the first part...now I think I feel even worse 'cuz you animal people are ruinin' it for the rest of us non-animal people!! I'm gonna go back to my cave next to the river where they club all the baby seals now.  MUSICAL BREAK!! I'm trying to cheer myself up...it's almost April; this it the time of year teams are supposed to have as much (if not more) optimism about their chances in the upcoming season. Instead, the legendary quarterback has rapidly spreading cancer and the only owner my team has ever known has died and chose not to leave a successor in place. Why not play the song that rocks Ralph Wilson Stadium whenever the Bills score? THE DAILY BOX SCORE: 1918-2014:  I'll leave it at that tonight, friends. Got a lot on my mind and a busy day in the morning and early afternoon. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "You're on a train (or other similarly isolated area) - how do you pass the time? Daydream..." What up y'all? It's another Monday; cold as hell and almost as busy, so I need to unwind a bit. Glad I don't have anything going on tomorrow so I can complain about how I've got nothin' to do but sit around and think about how the next few weeks are gonna be mentally challenging...but it's all for the greater good, right? I hope...  .Interesting prompt, and it's one I've probably thought about hundreds of times throughout the course of a given day doing pretty much whatever. Which, I think, is code for "I should write down my thoughts more often, or at least put some damn batteries in my digital voice recorder, clear out the files I haven't listened to in years, and start carrying that thing around". Because of course I can't think of a single thing right now that I've daydreamed in the last few days...and if you haven't figured it out by now I'm easily distracted, mostly by my own thoughts. Does fantasizing count as daydreaming? That'd be a lot easier to talk about, but I don't feel like changing this blog's rating to GC (that's "Graphic Content", for all you non-WDC lingo spitters). What's ironic about this prompt is that I've lived more or less by myself for most of my adult life. Add to that the fact that since I hit adulthood, the two demographics I've worked with the most have been teenagers and slightly older (than me...not in general) women. That's basically two groups where there's not a whole lot of common ground (at least on the surface)...and a lot of those situations were 90% solo work and 10% group work. That's a lot of time to one's self. And maybe that's why I write so much, or so often, or both. It's my way of filling a void, and sort of having a conversation. There aren't a whole lot of people I actually enjoy talking to, and it's not anyone's fault but mine. I just suck at conversations. I lose focus quickly, I feel like I'm being put on the spot (even when I'm not), and I have trust and anxiety issues. So a lot of the time I'm not comfortable around people, and writing is the best way I know of to keep in touch with the outside world. It sounds selfish, but it's on my terms and I don't feel as much pressure trying to communicate. Like Ma Bell...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zT8fuO02gk. Like I said near the top, the next few weeks will be hard, but it's nothin' I haven't gone through before. On the plus side, hopefully the Wi-Fi in the building doesn't get interrupted again...I barely had any last year when I was dealing with the initial fracture and surgery on my leg, so staying occupied on days where I really couldn't get out was more of a challenge. And honestly, there were times that the days almost felt like a blur because of pain meds and sleep meds and anti-anxiety meds. Anyway, this isn't about throwin' me a pity party or anything...I'll have none of that. I guess what I'm sayin' is I've dealt with different forms of isolation in the past, and it's affected me all sorts of ways good and bad, but I've tried (to varying degrees of success) to make the best of it, and really that's all we can do. Even if that means letting your mind wander to places you wish it wouldn't go. BCF PROMPT: "Silver or gold?" I just wanna say that I've actually really enjoyed the simplicity of Shaye  's prompts recently, and I'm sad to hear that she'll be taking a hiatus from WDC activities for awhile. I hope all is well, or gets better, or turns out however you need it to, Carmela...we'll definitely all miss you and hope for your safe return whenever you're confident in that.Now, silver or gold? Neither, really. I stopped wearing gold a long time ago...mainly because of its association with wealth and status, which I never really cared to flaunt once I attained a little of either anyway. But if I were pressed to choose one, it'd be silver...primarily because (at least in my eyes) it's a more neutral color than gold, and that makes it look better (unless all you wanna see is the shine, and if that's the case I suggest you're probably looking at the wrong person if you're hoping to catch some of that in me). Too much gold, whether it's jewelry or in an outfit, just looks tacky in my opinion. And that's coming from a kid who grew up listening to rappers in the eighties who were adorned with fat rope chains and gold teeth (long before everyone was sportin' grills). Although who's to say that if I ever become independently wealthy beyond my needs I wouldn't indulge myself in drapin' a 20" long, 1" thick rope around my neck once all the rest of my basic needs were met? Even if only to bust on rare occasions, primarily as a joke? But that's a big "What if...", and I'd probably move myself further into isolation once I bought it because I'd be paranoid that A) someone would try to steal it straight up off me; or B) someone would think it was fake and accuse me of some kind of fraudulent manner of thinking. Either reason would be a good example of not owning said item at all, but I'd probably be more pissed about the second one. Theft happens and you learn to accept that some people are gonna want what they normally can't get through legal measures; the fact that someone would go out of their way to criticize your choices and how they see you reflected in them cuts a lot deeper than material loss. And wow have I really started to overthink a three word prompt. So yeah, silver if those were my only options besides neither, but neither because chances are I'll always think of something better I could dropping that kind of money on (and I'm assuming we're not talkin' about trashy suburban mall kiosk "metals" and gold-on-a-roll stuff). MUSICAL BREAK!! I'm picky about going to concerts. I either really have to love the headliner, or I have to kinda like at least two of the opening acts enough to justify the price of admission. And I don't care for Linkin Park or 30 Seconds To Mars (who I actually saw opening up a festival gig many years back and wasn't impressed even though Jared Leto climbed the stage's scaffolding from one side to the other) as much to shell out big bucks to see AFI play for the first half hour and then kinda not care about the rest of the night...but I'd pay a little less to see AFI headline with a couple bands I might've never heard of prior to the show's announcement. So no, I probably won't be going to the Linkin Park/30 Seconds To Mars/AFI shows in my area this summer. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  So Arnold Schwarzenegger won't go away. Apparently he's got another big money, special effects, shoot 'em up style movie coming out next month (you can watch the trailer here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FeHpSdQSH0c) and as usual, it looks like something I wouldn't be interested in. I think that if you're gonna call a movie "Sabotage", it better look more like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5rRZdiu1UE. I'd heard rumors that Spike Jonze was working on a similar project, but the untimely passing of MCA kinda wiped out the whole thing, and that's really unfortunate. I'm gonna run the risk of the last spots being sold out by the time I hit "Save Entry" this evening, but if you haven't done so yet go over to blainecindy's Blog City Fair and get you a square on their giant quilt. Find it here: "Fair Attractions" and Linked 'Note' no longer available. (and you don't have to be a Blog City resident to add your name to the quilt). A childhood hero (and ex-quarterback of my beloved four-time AFC Champion Buffalo Bills), Jim Kelly, recently headed to NYC for surgery after he was diagnosed with an aggressive return of his oral cancer. Word is he's been in pretty rough shape lately...hopefully he'll pull through this latest in a series of medical battles he's dealt with since his retirement in1997. Great article here for any fan of the game: http://www.thekickisgood.com/?p=6946. Articles like that, especially during tough times, make me glad I grew up when I did with a QB like Kelly. I've seen some comments posted on articles about how his situation is "his fault" and it's "his karma" in part because he was cocky and arrogant before and during his time as a player, and how it's not right that he's getting media coverage because he can afford special treatment because he made a lot of money...it sickens me, really, that some people have the nerve to not share any bit of compassion for what him and his family are going through (and have been through...I won't list it all here, but this article does a tremendous job of bringing to light what a post-NFL career can look like: http://espn.go.com/nfl/story/_/id/10549870/former-buffalo-bills-quarterback-jim-...). And finally, I'll admit I had plenty of time to daydream when I was at the doctor's office this morning for my pre-op physical (which is a better way of saying I got there 20 minutes early, didn't see the nurse until 20 minutes after my scheduled appointment time, and doctor himself didn't actually come in until 20 more minutes had gone by. Which, in my estimation, meant about 55 minutes of fantasizing daydreaming about the gorgeous but very pregnant receptionist in between glances at the TV (Steve Harvey's funny at times, but I think he only owns three different facial expressions...hence me not complaining much about my wait time). Anyway, doc thinks I'm fairly healthy, wants me off the one pain reliever I take (which means the rest of the week ought to be interesting), and I'll be on crutches and back in my boot for at least two weeks (which sounds a lot better than the months I was using those same implements last time). The waiting between now and next Tuesday, as clichè as it sounds, is gonna be the hardest part in all of this...or at least until I start goin' stir crazy and can't really go anywhere or do much about it. All I can do is hope that eventually this finally returns my leg to as close to normal as possible. That's all I've got for tonight folks...I woulda had this up a little earlier but someone's been screwin' with the internet around here again. Just when I think everything's goin' smooth, somethin' else seems to happen. Oh well...looks like it's fixed (again)...but it sucks havin' to chase people down for passwords and all that. Whatever. Peace, like the flutter of wings, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Provide your thoughts/opinions on a newspaper/magazine article or a radio/television news story from the past week. And if you feel inclined, let loose and blog about your week. Also, feel free to comment on your favorite blog entries from your fellow challengers from the preceding week, though this is not required." Good evening kind readers! I never really know what to call Sundays. They're part of a weekend, but they're at the beginning of the week on most calendars, or at least they were when I was a kid. Monday's like the "official" start of the week for many people with regular day jobs and such, and then there are those people out there that say things like "I'm off on Mondays and Tuesdays, so today's like my Friday"...I used to be one of those people, but I never added the "it's my weekend" in reference to it being my days off, because it sounds kinda douchey. It comes off as forced conversation, like you're trying to justify what you do for a living that doesn't conform with the normal idea of workweek boundaries. All of this has absolutely nothing to do with anything, mind you. I'm probably the last person who should be complaining about people turning phrases and worrying that it makes them sound like d-bags. What I do know is that it's Sunday, and that means it's time for the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" 's Sunday News, which is always a good time.Today's article comes from a little newspaper outlet you might've heard of, USA Today. I have their app on my laptop and I've mentioned that before...when I'm not actually connected to the internet I can still use it to look at articles from the last time I opened it up, which is kinda neat. I am a little confused though, because I went to look at it today to see what was happening on the greatest planet in the universe, but all the stories were from March 21st, so I refreshed the app to get to stories dated for today.  Nope...everything's still dated the 21st. I'm gonna keep telling myself that nothing newsworthy happened this weekend, while preparing myself mentally for an onslaught of articles tomorrow. I mean, Rob Ford had to do something stupid, right? And this whole Russia/Ukraine thing still has legs. And March Madness is in full swing.Anyway, I went with this: http://www.usatoday.com/story/tech/columnist/talkingtech/2014/03/21/twitter-8-is... because I enjoy technology and stuff, even if I'm not as up-to-date with it as I used to be and this happened to be the first news story I came across that I cared enough to read today...it's amazing what passes for news versus what's just another Buzzfeed article from 2011 shared by a third party Facebook spambot. So this article...yeah, Twitter turned eight years old on Friday. Eight years of this technology! That's, like 77 in human years. And what I like the most about this bit of news and the accompanying video are the people who don't seem to care about Twitter, with almost a snobbish disdain. Like they're really trying hard to sell you on the notion that they can't be bothered to see how people can cram so much into 140 characters, or how the mere suggestion of the website is cause for their very real need to tell you where it can go. Hey, look...eight years is a long time for anything, and I don't care what it is. Some cars don't even last eight years, and that was a damn revolution, the automotive industry! But just like everything else in the world, out come the people who have to shit on whatever they don't like as soon as you shove a microphone in their face. That's just like society to not know how to appreciate technology or say something nice about an accomplishment. Personally, I use Twitter. I like it for what it is, and it's certainly changed the way people exchange information, but I could also live without it. I probably spend less than five minutes a day scrolling through tweets (and that's assuming I've even gone on Twitter that day), unless I also happen to be watching a sporting event at the same time. For some reason I prefer to use Twitter as my social network of aggression choice in conveying my feelings during football season, even though my tweets are linked to my Facebook account anyway. Occasionally I'll tweet a link to the latest blog entry I've written, but I've gotten away from that ever since WDC changed the "Share" tool and made it less convenient (in my opinion) to do so. I know it's there. I know it serves a bigger purpose than other websites and social networks, and I also get that it's not for everyone. And if you've never used it and plan not to, your life won't be affected one way or the other. News will be disseminated in various forms; it's not like major things people are gonna wanna know will be handicapped by "Twitter Exclusivity". There's no premium for using it over anyplace else, unless brevity is your thing and wanna zip past a lot of info in a hurry. If you're leisurely scrolling and wanna take your time looking at all the pretty pictures, stick to Facebook (or be an internet hermit and don't join any of the many different ways you can kill time with a high-speed modem...your choice). Me? I'm content with what it is and how it serves my purposes. I think that's really all we can hope for. BCF PROMPT: No prompt today...but congrats to Simply Me  on being named the most recent "Blogger Of The Week"! How exciting!To recap my own week...let's see: I started out with no internet access, finally got confirmation of my ankle procedure, and there was no news yesterday or today, according to USA Today. I think that pretty much covers it on my end. MUSICAL BREAK!! This has to be some kind of a pop culture hall of fame, class of 2010. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Crazy that this entry almost didn't get written today. I need to learn to take it easy on the Honey Nut Cheerios. And when did the plastic bags inside the boxes become so cheap? Usually I just open a little corner so I can pour them directly into my hand for snacking purposes, rather than shoving my entire arm in the box. Nope. The hole split the bag a few inches down...on both sides of the bag. Pouring from his box is gonna be a mess, and it looks like I'll be eating Cheerios like crazy the next few days to they don't get stale and go to waste. But Cheerios don't really ever go stale, do they? They kinda start out life being a near-tasteless, crunchy, bland GMO-laden nightmare for people with tricky stomachs as it is. I'm pretty sure you could find Cheerios buried under your couch cushions from pre-Twitter times and it would taste nearly identical to a Cheerio purchased in 2014. Not an experiment I'll be attempting to replicate; just sayin'. Speaking of snacks, I was initially planning on using this article (http://mentalfloss.com/article/24691/10-snack-foods-originally-sold-medicines) for my Sunday News contribution, until I realized it was written almost four years ago. And that four of the ten items are soda, which smacks of lazy storytelling or whatever. Surely soda could've been listed once and three other foodstuffs could've been worked in there. I do, however, like Mental_Floss little "Amazing Fact Generator" in the corner though...sweet find with the "Twitter's bird logo is named Larry, for Larry Bird." I did not know that. I should just keep hitting the AFG button over and over and copy/pasting my findings on my own Twitter page (where you can follow me at the very practical handle of @Fivesixer if that's your thing). And finally, while trying to Google something I vaguely remember seeing recently with a search phrase of "ten things that no longer exist on the internet", I came across this gem (and you can thank me for it later): http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=330770.That's it for me folks...gonna try and cross over and get some sleep. Got another freakin' doctor's appointment in the morning and I don't wanna feel too rushed or anything. Peace, I'mma do the things that I wanna do, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Let your mind wander back to the Middle Ages and imagine you are a scribe in the King's Court. Tell us about the goings-on in the castle (accents optional, but encouraged )." Good afternoon folks...wow. I have an overactive imagination at times but even still, I don't wanna touch this prompt. I'm kinda glad not having the internet for about a week pretty much took me out of the running in this month's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ...I can't imagine how annoyed I would be if I needed this entry to secure some kind of winner's position.But hey, to each his or her own, I suppose. It's probably been since elementary school that I last studied the Middle Ages, for all I know, and the topic is of no interest to me at all. History isn't my strong suit and I honestly don't know that I know enough to even try to make something remotely readable from what we have to work with. Furthermore, who in their right mind would trust me with the feathered quill to take notes on all matters regarding their reign? Would I have some autonomy over my words, or would the king get all Rupert Murdoch on me and make sure I spun everything to his liking? I'd so rather prefer to be an independent journalist rather than being able to say what I want so long as the guy frontin' the operation is down with it. And accents? What the hell does a "Middle Ages accent" even sound like? Is it "Olde English"? Full of words like "thou" and "ye"? My experience with OE is limited to 40's of malt liquor at my first apartment. Is jousting acceptable? And cauldrons...there has to be cauldrons of oil I can pour from a balcony onto a random crowd of angry castle-stormers while I clang around in a suit of armor. Dammit...I just remembered I'm not in charge, and all I get is a stupid scroll and the blood of some crippled ogre with which I'm supposed to note the poppin' events of the regime. I suppose "job security" entails making sure I don't get sentenced to the guillotine, and the least fair of the maidens is my reward. That's no kinda life. I just...I can't do it. Hands down, this is the hardest prompt ever. I can't even make stuff up. I'd have a better chance at trying to decode science, and I hate science (mainly because it's so true, and I'm not very good at it). Could I just be the court jester instead? At least I'd have a better shot at knowing where I stand at the end of the day (because dead jokers tell no lies). BCF PROMPT: "It's National Goof Off Day. What do you do consider goofing off? Any particular day come to mind that you recently did something totally out of character for you?" Yeah! Finally, a day that might've been conceived with myself in mind. Although I'm not sure I'm comfortable defining "goofing of", partly because of the whole "one man's ceiling is another man's floor" way of looking at life...what you think it is and where I stand might be totally different. I have a natural curiosity to find fun in even the most mundane things. There's a need within me to make life interesting; everything always being the same and boring and fulfilling limited expectations...that's not for me. Repetition, for all of its grounding purposes, kinda frightens me. I have to stay engaged and be entertained, or seek out another form of stimulation. Maybe that's why I can appear at times like I'm goofing off; really, all I'm doing is finding another way to do the same thing I've been doing all along. It could be a harmless prank at the expense of a friend or coworker, or I could shake up a writing prompt and take it in a direction previously unthought of. There's really no method about it other than there's something I need that normalcy doesn't provide. I'll share one tiny example (out of many) where I felt the need to deviate from what I was supposed to be doing. It happened recently, and I wish I'd taken a picture to commemorate the occasion, but like a lot of things born out of spontaneity I didn't have the presence of mind and the moment was lost shortly after it happened because, well, other important stuff got in the way. I've been working at a place called CAPCO for a little bit (http://www.capco.org/) in their "Family Essentials" department. Basically, we accept donations of clothing and simple household items, and we offer them to low-income and disadvantaged families in the area. It's kinda like a store within an office building, only the merch is gently used and free (to an extent). It's not a bad gig...it's rewarding in that you get to help people out that need it (once you look past the jerk-offs that abuse it). On one of my last days there (I wasn't sure then if I was gonna be pulled back out because of my lingering ankle problems) I was tasked with cleaning out the bin of kids toys. There was a large toy box and a laundry basket of them under a rack of infant clothes, and the useless crap was to be thrown out. Not a problem; I'm not invested in stuff kids wouldn't play with even if the parents are destitute or ridiculous anyway. This rack of baby clothes had two parts; an upper and a lower. Again, I wish I'd thought to grab a pic because no matter how well I describe my shenanigans, it still won't serve the point. While going through the toys, I came across a doll. That plastic rubbery kind, maybe a bit more than a foot tall and thicker than a Barbie. Her hair looked like it'd been snipped off by a hairdresser in the making. And she was naked, except for a pair of ill-fitting (by even a toy's standard) tight white pants. I did what only the most reasonable people of my ilk would've done...I sat her on the lower portion of the infant clothes rack, turned her smiling head, raised one of her arms, and silently declared her a pole-dancer. A stripper. Lady of the night. One of them Satan-lovin' jezebels. I was quite satisfied with my work, even if I was the only audience who would appreciate my warped humor. And this is why, at age 38, I'll be going back to school with the intention of earning a degree...so I can goof off at a higher level (and make more money doing it). Oh America, you're so eager to give me these chances that I'm only too quick to take. MUSICAL BREAK!!  It's another "Soundtracker Saturday", sponsored by the lovely and talented lizco252 and "Invalid Item" . I had a really hard time trying to come up with a song today, because of the aforementioned struggle with the 30DBC prompt, so I went a totally different route and opened YouTube to see what it had recommended for my viewing pleasure...and too many options sometimes are worse than none at all. I'm going with Taking Back Sunday and "Timberwolves At New Jersey" (lyrics: http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/145380/) because Tell All Your Friends (http://www.amazon.com/Tell-All-Your-Friends-Vinyl/dp/B00008GQYB/ref=pd_sim_sbs_m...) is easily in my all-time top ten list of favorite/influential albums...and not because they have a new record out or got the original lineup back together after selling out for a major label. I actually flirted with the idea of posting "Your Own Disaster" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBZGHvAMFBA) because it's such a great song in its own right, but I'm in a much more upbeat kinda mood, and the first twenty seconds of "T-wolves" makes me smile and want to pogo in my seat. And the video is a pretty cool concept as well.I got the mic and you got the mosh pit. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Woke up this morning (hey, that's always a good thing, am I right?) to see that it was again snowing in my neighborhood (which to me is never a good thing). I think jefferymaine hit it on the head with Linked 'Note' no longer available.. Enough is enough. I do wish I could pull off some kind of crazy "let's have some spring" dance though. There's probably a good reason why my dance moves aren't linked with Mother Nature's tempermentalness. I will, for the time being, eschew the annoying fact that there is no official WDC emoticon for bacon (the crispy, amazing kind in strips...not the floppy round Canadian stuff shot out of a tube and sliced), although there is to my knowledge at least one serviceable one (help me out, Jay's debut novel is out now! ...I think it was you who shared it once with me). I don't normally eat pancakes...it's just not my preferred breakfast meal. But I've been craving them a lot lately...until Elle - on hiatus  nearly ruined all that's well and good about pancakes and bacon with "Note: If I had my way, I would make it illegal to serve ...". I mean, c'mon...lemon juice? For reals? And what's "golden syrup"? If it's not maple syrup or corn syrup or gravy (gross thought, but I had to put that in there 'cuz that was among my initial reactions), it probably belongs nowhere near my breakfast. If it's honey, that's one thing. Ya know what? Scrap the whole thing. No pancakes for me, but extra bacon. I don't even want to think about pancakes any other way than what I'm accustomed to (because if there's not chocolate chips in them, I'm probably not gonna order 'em  ). Never did get to the bottom of the whole "Let's change our WDC handles to reflect medieval times!" thing other than to hear it was turned into a mess by someone who got carried away with it. And that makes me not wanna know anything more about it...I'm just relieved I didn't get caught up in any of it. That's stress I don't need to be putting myself in the way of.So let's recap what I've learned so far: the "Middle Ages" aren't my thing, I do inappropriate things at inopportune moments, and the best Taking Back Sunday album is their first one (all my opinions, of course ). And something about pancakes, but we decided not to go there. Anything else? Didn't think so. Peace, that's what girls' dreams are made of, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!Enjoy your breakfast. |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Have you ever been embarrassed in public (and had people laugh at you)? And/or have you ever laughed at someone who had been publicly embarrassed? Tell us the story." Hey folks! What's good out there? Feels nice to have a day where I'm not chasin' after something for a change, and I won't even complain about how bored I've been all afternoon...there's no excuse for it anyway. So this prompt...you're asking someone who was perpetually embarrassing throughout the early nineties. Couldn't avoid it, no matter how hard I tried...which is probably the biggest sin upon itself. Life feels like a series of repressed memories...bad haircuts, dubious friends, Cross Colors hoodies from the local flea market, etc. In a time where individualization still meant fitting in with a crowd, I was more notorious than popular (and not in the Biggie kinda way http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glEiPXAYE-U). Then again, how many of you out there can claim high school was easy? I think it became a purpose once I graduated...to be determined not to be laughed at or embarrassed, while maintaining some sort of individualism and credibility. There comes a time when a boy needs to know when to cut his losses and start over. You don't get many opportunities in life to do that, and you can't always do it when you feel like it...which makes it all the more gratifying when you take advantage of it at the right time. That's why it's also hard to recall moments of public humiliation...you get yourself to a point where you've moved past the dumb shit you've subjected yourself to, so much so that your indiscretions almost fade with age. I will, for the sake of this entry however, allow myself one trip down memory lane. I was in my very early twenties, living on my own and trying to establish my place in the world. I was on a bowling team with some buddies I'd worked with...we weren't the best team, or the most appropriate in matters regarding proper etiquette, but we definitely had more fun than anyone else in our league. After a match, DMFM and I went back to my apartment to chill and watch MTV2. It was still kinda early, so we decided to head over to a bar to meet up with a couple of girls he knew. To this day I don't remember their names, but I can picture the blonde and my lord, she was adorable. Drinks and shots...drinks and shots. Sitting at the bar, watchin' a Sabres game, makin' idle conversation. And suddenly it all hit me. I remember wobbling in my seat a little, covering my mouth, and throwing up all over the bar. Pro tip #1: when you're puking, don't try to cover your mouth...it just forces your vomit everywhere, in a fan-like propulsion. My boy helped me into the bathroom, where I spent at least twenty minutes trying to clean myself up. I ditched the sweatshirt I had on, and made my way back to the ladies. I greeted the bartender and did the most logical thing one does to attempt to mask his very public bout of intoxication: I ordered another beer. Dude looked at me like I had three heads, which was kinda what I was seeing in the mirror behind him anyway. Although he'd spent the time I was in the bathroom making the area I just destroyed with my liquidy insides look like it never happened, he incredulously asked me, "Did you make this mess?" Sensing his displeasure and continuing with my streak of wise decisions, I lied and said I had not. That led to my party being asked, in a not-so-nice fashion, to vacate the premises. Which was fine...there was another bar across the street, and hey! They serve beer here too! Awkward situation at best...the girls kinda went along with everything, even going as far as saying "It's ok, we've all been there before." And somehow, word got around that "some asshole got drunk across the street and threw up everywhere", with a description matching our group...yet we managed to avoid total scrutiny. After all, we were well-behaved, paying customers...who were motherfucking "that guy" whenever the topic came up. Pro tip #2: always act like you're not only not guilty, but can't stand the thought that someone would actually commit the social faux pas you just did. The rest of the night happened fast...I don't think we stayed there very long, and like I said, I don't remember the girls. I ran into one of them maybe a year later, and she remembered me, but I had to remind her of that night (because that's what stupid people like me do in random situations)..."Yeah, I puked on the bar that night at [the place is closed and no longer merits the consideration of promotion]!" Go me. Sometimes the ways of the world are best learned the hard way. I can't say I've never been drunk in public since then, but I've learned how to manage my intake and keep my wits (and my dinner) about myself. BCF PROMPT: "Are sequels better or worse than the original?" Nothing's ever as good as the original, is it? Usually our unrealistic expectations aimed at the recapturing of feelings sets us up for the fall...or another person is trying to capitalize on those same feelings, but never quite does right by what we came to know and love. Yet we can't imagine life without sequels, if for no other reason than to have something we can say "sucks" by comparison. I guess it sorta balances out the order of human selection, or something. And why does it seem like movies are the only artistic medium to wear the billing of "sequel" in advertising? Albums by musicians are rarely noted as such; same with books (even by authors writing a series of novels). TV shows aren't listed as sequels; if anything they're "preludes" or "origins" or "spin-offs". Why are movies so sucktasticularly special for this designation? I don't get it. Play along with me for a minute...what if other arenas in life had sequels? McDonalds Part 2: The Bigger Mac. "Honey, I have an appointment this afternoon to see "My Gynecologist 2: The Return Of The Baby-Making Ladyparts." Oil Change...the sequel to last year's blockbuster, New Used-Car Buy. Now showing: Paper Plates, a memoir of life after divorce. But with all due respect, some of the intangible stuff needs a second act. Perhaps a redemption of sorts. It's a two-way street, "Circle Of Life" kinda thing. There can't be a two without a one; how do we wish to improve? Maybe there's the covering up of prior embarrassments, or the promise of actually getting whatever it was that made the mess in the first place right for a change. Learn and grow, ya know? Supply/demand, minus oversaturation and plus the good stuff, or something like that. I don't contend to know everything...there are answers to questions I'll never think to ask. For every "Rocky" there's a "Rocky III" and a "Rocky Balboa"; there's "Star Trek" and then there's "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine". As long as you're not pullin' a Cosby and droppin' "Leonard Part VI" without the warning of a parts I-V, you're probably doin' alright. MUSICAL BREAK!! Perhaps. Maybe. Maybe not. Cover songs aren't sequels, y'all. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  I really wanted to say I had no public interactions today (0) but that'd be a lie. I went to the post office to mail out my tax forms, and now that the internet is sorta steady again, I should be getting my TAP/PELL stuff in order soon as well so I can get the ball rollin' on going back to school in the fall...but (and there's always a but) I'll need something to do in April while I'm laid up and nursing a hydrocodone buzz. No time like the ever-present future, I guess. Still need to figure out what it is I wanna be when I grow up go back, and what part of "computer things" I want to get into...programming, security, graphic design, I don't know. So confused, and I haven't even looked at TC3's website yet (and I'm linking it now in hopes that I'll come across it eventually, knowing that I don't reread my blog entries once they've been posted and I've knocked out the grammatical errors I've seen). http://www.tc3.edu/ Best movie sequel I've ever seen? "Clerks II" (which also happens to be the last movie I saw in a theater http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0424345/). Thinking about it makes me want to watch the original again...almost like reliving my puking experience in a public place makes me nauseous all over. I've been there and done that, working in a retail environment and specifically a gas station overnights as a second job. I threw around a basketball in the parking lot. I skated around on entire shifts with rollerblades. Drank in the back room with friends and took a nap early on Sunday mornings before the newspapers came. I will please and thank you to never have to work in retail again.Ok, well, at this point I'm mentally masturbating, so I should probably shut up and eat something. Peace, which started the whole world laughing, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! Please never let there be a sequel to this movie...it's perfect. |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Have you ever taken a road trip? Give us your opinion on the "must see" city/cities to road trip to/from/through." Good afternoon, y'all! Had a little hiccup in the internet access again...went to sleep Tuesday night and woke up to none. The landlord here changed it to "password only", and among my goals today was trying to procure it from him. Thankfully, I didn't have to chase him down or wait until this evening to get it. In the interim, I had a pretty good day, so let's dive into these prompts while the feeling is still unsmushable, shall we? I've kissed the proverbial ground of a few different cities in my journey through life, and some of them came from behind the wheel of a car travelling faster than the speed limit down the highways of our great planet. Pittsburg, Savannah, Nashville...even Hartford. Cleveland as well. I hit NYC once by bus and once by train. Not really "hit", cuz then I'd be a terrorist (although my NYC via train experience after 9/11 was a Penn Station nightmare, and the days after weren't great either). Let's just say I've been there before. And I'm trying to think of a road trip experience I haven't written of yet, or at least one I haven't covered in a long ass time. Might as well re-tell the Pearl Jam story. I had a choice in 1998...see The Beastie Boys in Barrie, Ontario (with Biz Markie and A Tribe Called Quest opening), or Pearl Jam a week later with Cracker and Cheap Trick among the openers. I couldn't get two Saturdays off in a row, and the PJ tix were already paid for...the Beastie Boys tickets concert was kinda a last-minute thing, but I woulda loved my ass off at that show. You can't front on The Biz riffin' on Elton John's "Benny And The Jets" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roJwF9jKhp0). I would've loved to see The Tribe too, but I had to be an adult and choose my spots when it came to paid time off and weekends worked versus the majesty of concerts at the age of 23. I took my chances and went to PJ (although my sis went to the Beastie Boys show the week before). My boys Verno and DMFM were with me, along with Dave's boy Mark (a natural Canadian), who drove. A four hour ride from the B-lo into the sticks of northern Ontario...pre-GPS days, for all you little "I know where we're at 'cuzza my phone" kids. Molson Amphitheatre...Google that, music nerds. After we got our brews at the outdoor beer tent, out party went separate ways. DMFM and Verno (I'm not sure on this) went to see Cracker (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYdlqjiQPAc) and either Matthew Sweet or Matthew Good, but I can't remember which. Mark (maybe it was Marc) and I hung around to see Cheap Trick...I knew of them more than the other bands, so that's what appealed to me. We all met up before PJ came on; a grassy hill above the crowd and the tiny stage. I hadn't been to many concerts outside before that (my love was local bands at tiny clubs), but I was itching to see music outside in a new venue. No sooner did we meet up it seemed, then did PJ hit the stage. The people rushing the stage the second the opening chords of "Corduroy" separated Mark (maybe with a "c") and I from Verno and DMFM...we were pushed up to within feet from the stage, into the mosh pit. There was no way out...the crowd surged and we were stuck. I would love to say I was 15 feet away from Eddie Vedder at that time, but I began to fear for my life. Around five songs in, some chick crowdsurfing knocked off my hat and my glasses. The glasses were eventually replaceable, but the hat was a simple black hat with a Nike swoosh that had sat in the back of my car and was sun-worn...something I couldn't replicate. After I made my way out of the moshticular mess sans what I needed to see, I chose solid ground to enjoy the rest of the concert. I didn't think about anything else...like being stuck in a foreign land where I couldn't see a damn thing. Luckily, my crew was stationed just outside the venue's exits to scoop me up. I felt a yank on the collar of my shirt...corralling me back to the people I came with. I was in no position to argue...I was beat, and they had bought a "Yield" tour poster on my behalf. How could I be mad at that? I climbed in the back of Mark's Chevy Berretta and we got on the 401 (or 403...I don't remember) and we hit traffic in Toronto, so we stopped in a roadside diner for food. I had no glasses and was covered in mosh filth; someone made a joke and I smiled...my teeth were straight-up dirt. I was mortified but hungry. I'll probably tell that story a hundred different ways when asked about it, but it cost me $250 to replace the glasses...but the Nike hat with just the Swoosh was irreplaceable, to this day. I still shudder a little and my heart breaks a bit when I hear that song that I loved and hated for so many reasons before seeing PJ live for the first time...but then that... BCF PROMPT: "Did you ever have parent/teacher conferences? Did you dread or look forward to them?" I'm so wiped out from trying to relive the recent past... No, my man CR, no. Ain't a parent; ain't tryin' to be...adults are just too effed up. And if I've said it a million times before, I'mma say it again...there's no need for me to consider parentalysis by procreation, and therefore no point in me pontificating on my choice on y'alls needs on gettin' laid 'cuz you wanna make a babeh. You're a lot smarter than me if you're at that point. Children need more attention than I can give minus the babymomma as it is. I'm not in that place, I don't wanna be, and I won't put myself in that place. Yeah, my (my parent) mom had them, but I was a good kid, for the most part. I don't remember me being involved in any of them, but I remember being asked in 4th grade if I was depressed, and it being kinda major. Yeah, cuz me being a jerky smartass hating life when I'm nine years old is normal, and I'm supposed to pretend like being picked on by assholes is "ok". If that's what you mean, then yeah, or no, or yeah. I was that. No, I wasn't. Yeah, I was. Eff that isch. MUSICAL BREAK!! The first few bars of this song make me twitch a little, no matter how many times I've heard it before. I know I didn't do the story justice, and I'm late to the dance, but here's my Soundtracker Saturday via Thursday song (if it's allowed)... THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  I'll never get that hat back, but I made it to my eye appointment yesterday, and I've got a keen scope on getting some new frames to go along with my bad eyesight. I don't see out of my left eye so much as I used to, and the frames I like don't sync up with what my insurance will pay for, but maybe I'll be seeing you a little better soon. Or so I hope. Have to throw this in here, if only to make it "official" on the Dubb-Dee-Cee and in reals...  Had something else image-wise I was gonna post up in here, but for the life of me I can't remember what it was. It wasn't the Five-Year-Old Me that my mom so happily posted last week on #ThrowbackThursday (or #TBT, like all the kids who ain't like you say). Oh my dear lord...I found it...I just did that. I'm so confused right now. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glb2U6y-GdU) With that, I probably need to get out of here so I can edit and pretend like I need that good night of sleep I haven't gotten that last couple of days. Peace, I don't wanna take what you can't give, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! I swear fo' gawd, I'mma neva eat French Toast in a restaurant again. Ever. |
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Also, I learn a lot of my random facts by being that one person who reads all those tiny little things especially in nature/science museums. So many awesomely amazing things, and some museums contradict their information and I'll call over an expert and be like... uhhh, contradiction?? 