Disjointedly Connected

So...sorry. Didn't want to freak anyone out over in Facebook land. I just feel myself getting a little too...involved over there these days. I'm starting to comment and 'Like' just to make sure people know I'm still around. In short, I'm feeling a little too needy and high maintenance over there as of late. I recognize that as some of the symptoms of the problems I had with FB before (leading to the self-imposed absence). So, time to just dial it back a bit.

I'd like to raise a practical question at this point. How the hell do you know when bleu cheese goes bad? I'm not trying to be a smart ass or anything, I genuinely don't know. I mean, to me the whole damn block of cheese looks moldy. I hear it's wonderful. And I'm not saying I'll never eat it. I just generally don't go out of my way for it.

And fuck the back still hurts. Apparently they know the affected area and have found the knots in my musculature. And that's all well and good, but the time it's taking to release them is driving me slowly insane which is to say no more insane than I already consider myself to be on most days.

The paper work is over to the attorney at this point (oh, sorry...you didn't bring your score card? It's gonna be a rather random Hump Day my friends). So...just gotta wait to see what else we need before we're all good and legal.

Fuck...that apple just doesn't taste good today. I've been shopping at Giant Eagle for most of my groceries these days simply because for one person, the fuel perks are pretty hard to beat. But their apple selection really kind of sucks compared to Kroger. So...looks like I'll continue to shop at Kroger for those good, softball size Fuji apples that I've come to know and love.

In other news, I got some cool stuff from Thinkgeek. A couple of them are cool AND practical as we head (eventually) in to Autumn.

That's right...be jealous. I have a Jayne hat. Takes a man who's very sure of himself to wear a hat like that. You're gorram skippy it does! Wonder if they'd recognize me at the Football Hall of Fame*?


I have had a couple of flasks in my time. One remained at DePauw...the other got used as a prop for my soon to be ex-wife's play and I don't recall ever getting it back. No matter. This one is cooler. Yes....that's the molecular formula for Ethanol. And as we all know boys and girls, ethanol is one of the yummy chemicals in alcoholic beverages. Weeeeee!


A new twist on Hot Potato. I can't wait to break this out at the next family gathering. Or maybe I need to have it make an appearance at *cough* bingo :-)

Speaking of Hot Potato. Nothing is more awesome than sriracha sauce. It's pretty much a known fact that it makes things more awesome. Truth. How could it NOT make a chocolate bar more awesome? Yeah. I don't know either.

Soundwave. Coolest of the Transformers. Autobots OR Decepticons. True fact. And he had those cassette tapes (Ravage, Rampage, Rumble). One of my favorite toys of my childhood.

Alright kiddos. My lunch is coming to a close and I've got shit left to do today. I'm on installs this week at work and that always just puts my week off kilter. Friday evenings on install weeks usually involve a healthy dose of decompression from the 4 days preceding it. I expect this Friday to be no exception to that trend.

AND...I have some cool photoshoots this weekend. Hot Air Balloons on Saturday and a Sr. Photo session on Sunday.


Life is good.

Have a kick ass rest of your day my friends!




Carrots in the Hummus

I'm not sure when I actually sat down to lunch...which means I'm probably close to my hour being up. And that's OK. This won't take long. This one is more of a sketch anyway...some random thoughts (because none of the other blog posts have just been random thoughts). Speaking of random thoughts, this blog was originally called Random Meanderings. A name that still fits on most days.

Had dinner and a book club discussion of sorts with a friend yesterday evening. And as we were discussing life, the universe (and everything), it hit me. I started getting insight in to my role in relationships. This thought was further explored in my dreams as evidenced by the fact that my brain picked right back up on it this morning as I was getting ready for work. I'm an infectious dreamer. Anyone who has spent any time with me can probably pick up on that. I have an almost naive sense that the dreams I have will come true. The things I have in store for me in my life will happen. I know this as sure as I know at least one other person is reading this blog right now. Yes right now...as I'm typing it. I know you may think that's impossible--how can you be reading something as I'm typing it? Well....the fact that you're reading it means it's already been written. And that means I finish this post. And if I finish it, I must at some point write it. And since time in a linear fashion is an illusion, then you are reading this, as I'm typing it.

Carrots and hummus. Not a combination that most think would actually go together. And yet, when paired are quite tasty. I think my relationships are like that, to an extent. Todd and her? Wow...I don't really see it, but hey, if it works, cool on you.

So...why 2 failed marriages? There are a list (several lists, I'm sure) of reasons. But I think the biggest is that I tend to lose myself in the relationship to the point where the other person stops seeing the person they fell in love with (the assumption being that they too actually did fall in love with me). And as a result their behavior toward me changes, in turn causing me to see a side of them I hadn't seen before. And without a whole lot of work, it all falls apart.

Part of that 'infectious dreaming' curse is the undying belief that things will 'work out the way they are supposed to.' Which is fine. But what I'm coming to realize is that that particular belief is not a license for inactivity. I still have shit to do. A role to fulfill. Just because things will work out doesn't mean that I can sit idly by and wait for shit to fall in to place. I still have to do my part. And I think that's where the disconnect happened. I was waiting. Waiting for her to do her part. While she was waiting for me to do mine. And somewhere along the way we forgot how to communicate with each other. Complacency led to indifference. And that was the death knell, as it were.

And I'm not just talking about my most recent marriage. This is a pattern that I've seen in many of my romantic relationships. And by many, I mean...pretty much all of them--including the first marriage. I got 'used to things' and forgot that the courtship...the romance needed to be ongoing.

I do have a 'mission' in this lifetime. And I think that for the most part, I will be more effective at fulfilling that mission if I am not married. And maybe that's OK. I don't think (anymore) that every adult has to be married. And I'm finding that I don't mind living alone on most days.

Don't get me wrong...I'm quite sure I have not faced my dark night of the soul quite yet. I know it's coming...and from the feel of things, it's coming soon.

But that's ok...I got some carrots and hummus and a glassful of icewater.

That should get me through at least some of it.





Today It Clicked

Today as I'm driving to work, it clicked. I finally figured out one of the reasons I hate traffic so much. Not necessarily the rush hour commute (which, arguably, is traffic at its worst), but all forms of traffic (or most forms).

Traffic is the perfect real-world metaphor for what our society has become. We box ourselves in...and try to get where we're going and fuck anyone that tries to cut us off or get in our way. Some people blast ahead, not paying attention to any of the signs. Others move at a slower pace and get passed by. Still others deftly maneuver...allowing people to pass or cut in their lane. As metaphors go, it's one of my most perfect. You even have derailment....accidents. And you can see how your life (your car) affects the lives (cars) of everyone around you. If you life a reckless life (drive like an asshole)--someone's going to get hurt...and it's not necessarily you. There are people in our lives trying to police things...make sure we follow the rules, the pre-determined ebb and flow. But you're still free to speed...breaking the laws of nature, if you will.

Sometimes you ride with others. But for the most part...we travel alone on life's highways.

It never ceases to amaze me how traffic affects me. How the driving (living) of others can impact my mood and outlook. Someone's driving like an asshole...and it infuriates me. Someone is polite and kind, it sets the tone for the whole day.

Ironically, the days I enjoy the commute the most is when I'm in my little container on the highway and just doing my own thing. Singing...having dialog with myself (what? I'm the only one who talks to myself...whatever). On those days I hardly notice the cars around me and I'm happy.

Happy to just be doing my thing.

And then some asshole cuts me off and brings me crashing back in to their reality.


I wonder. Which is safer? A road full of cars or a completely empty highway?

I guess that depends on the driver.





Contextual Shift

I'd be lying if I said that everything is going super smoothly with this transitional period in my life. Oh, to be sure, I'm actually much happier now that I'm out of that house/relationship/situation. I realize that I had a contribution in the decline...so I'm not saying it's any one person's fault. We both had a hand in the shift.

But what's weird to me now is the context of things. I was a party for my former neighbor a couple weeks ago. And parked across the street from her house. It used to be our house. I heard her dog barking. Used to be my/our dog. Wednesday when I was at the chiropractor, I saw her car in the parking lot. It used to be...well....it was always in her name, but I used the vehicle when necessary.

Sorry if you read that on FB and thought that I actually saw her while I was out. I haven't actually seen her since the day I got the last of my stuff (that I was taking) out of her house. I've seen her son a couple of times since. And that was a bit awkward. But I haven't seen her. And I'm ok with that. Honestly. I don't need/want/care to see her.

It's funny to me how my mind has already classified most of that marriage in the same perspective as things that happened 'years ago.' The marriage ended in March. Four months ago. The process of making that final in the legal sense is still ongoing. And yet...it seems like such a long time ago. Seems like forever ago that I got the first email from her via Match.com. That I met her for the first time for lunch downtown. That first awkward hug. The first kiss.

The memories play out in my mind. And it's like I don't even know the people in them anymore. I still feel love for the person that I fell in love with. But...to be quite brutally honest...the woman I left was not the same woman I fell in love with. And I would hazard a guess that she could say the same of me (and rightfully so).

In one of my new favorite shows, "Luther," there is a quote...I'll paraphrase it... The great tragedy of marriage is that woman always think that men will change, but they don't. Men think women won't change, but they do.

And that's really what happened. I think I mean....honestly I'm not quite ready for the post-mortem-overthink-it-to-death-to-see-where-shit-went-wrong phase yet.

I'm in a good place right now. I'm in Uptown Westerville. Making new friends. And things are going well on the job front. The bills are mostly manageable. And I'd say that life is good. Well, no. Life is. I am the one that's good...or well...or some shit like that.

In other news...the knee is slower to recover than I want. I'm fully convinced that the lesson I'm supposed to learn from this is patience. Patience with myself. Patience with my current situation. Patience in general.

I suppose after nearly 42 years on the planet, there are worse things I could learn.

I feel good. The context shift is still a little weird. But it's a good weird. And I'm weird. And I'm good with that.

Finding the silver linings every day. And that's a fucking beautiful thing, man. Truly.

Alright...my tuna wrap is finished. I've devoured the carrots and hummus I had. And my bladder is telling me I've got one more thing to do before I get back to work. So...I better get on that. That call of nature is seldom one that likes to get a busy signal.





Wait For Walk Signal

It seems like at various points in my life, all I'm doing is waiting for the walk signal. Which...really is kind of odd. The metaphor of standing on a corner calls all sorts of off-color metaphors to mind. Or perhaps it calls metaphors to my off-color mind. Either way, shit makes me think.

I think a lot. More than I should about some things, and clearly not enough about other things.

It was kind of a nutty weekend. We had a major software update at work...so Friday (and Saturday, and Sunday) were quite interesting. I think the kinks (in the software) are finally sorted out...but yeah.

Hung out with my neighbors Saturday evening and lemme tell you, THAT was interesting. It was a good time. They're a good bunch of peeps from what I can see. They can't really take the place of the neighbors I moved away from, but I still feel good about the move.

Sunday was a day of volunteering at the Arts and Music Festival in Westerville.

OH! I almost forgot. I hit Bed Bath & Beyond on Saturday. It was my first time going. I mean, I think I went once with the ex, but I don't really count that. Picked up a few things for the house including a new bedroom set (sheets, comforter, etc). And this supercute lamp:

Yeah, I said supercute. It was mostly tongue in cheek, but it is a cool lamp. And I got to use my free lightbulb from the City of Westerville.

Also on deck Sunday was our bi-weekly family dinner. I put my 10 day cleanse on temporary hiatus as I had some of this yumminess:

Yup...Fried chicken and waffles. Dad got a new waffle maker that does 2 at once. Now I just need to get a healthy recipe for waffles to use with mine.

I'm still feeling the effects (just tired mostly) of forgetting that I'm not 24 anymore (that would be Saturday night). The fermented beverage side of the bottom shelf of my fridge is mostly empty (hey-I shared with my neighbors). I'm not in a huge rush to re-stock it. Since going on the 24Day Challenge, my metabolism has shifted and my body processed alcohol differently now. Which is to say, I'm a pretty cheap date these days.

Speaking of dates and dating. Actually , no I wasn't. Not really.

I'm just kind of babbling. Still trying to get back in to the habit of daily writing. What this means to you, the 7 people that actually read this blog on a regular basis, is that there may be some posts with the distinct underpinnings of shit. I'm thinking that this might actually be a post of said variety.

I'm going to try to get back in to kickboxing/Hap Ki Do tonight. I don't think my knee is quite up to doing a double again, but I'm going to for sure try for the kickboxing. I'm not going to lie. I'm nervous. I'm nervous that I'm gonna screw it up and hurt the knee again, or get hit with the realization that I need to change my mode of exercising.

Of course, none of that could happen. Adrenaline could kick in and it could be a fanfuckingtastic workout. I'm secretly hoping for that, actually. We shall see.

I'm almost to the end of my little baggie of carrots which generally means it's about time for me to pack it up (pack it in, let me begin...) and head back to my desk to face the crisis du jour.

Hoping your day is full of awesomesauce!




Fear and Self Loathing in Las Vegas

I don't really loathe myself. Well. Not as much anymore as I used to. I just really couldn't think of anything remotely clever to user as a title for this long overdue blog post. I guess if you were the assuming types, the 6 of you would assume that I haven't taken a lunch in quite some time. And you'd be partly correct. I have still consumed food during that time of day we conveniently label as 'lunch' (or dinner if you're from the South (you have breakfast, dinner (lunch), supper (dinner)....or something like that. To be honest, I only ever kept it straight when my Papaw said it. Or my dad..because he reminds me of the good things about Papaw).

Hello ramble-train WHOO WHOO...chugga chugga chugga.

I'm happy that it's Friday friday...(fuck you Rebecca Black*). But yeah. I'm working a bit late tonight for a software install at work and then helping out at the Westerville Arts Festival Saturday (and our bi-weekly family dinner on Sunday). Should be a nice relaxing weekend. Just working on making in through the day.

I took this shot (yeah, Brian, another selfie) the other day on the way to work. It's one of my fave self-portraits. It looks like I'm grumpy...or something. I think I was just tired. Or over-thinking life (because the philosopher in me almost never does that).

It's weird. This has been a weird week from the standpoint of I know I have shit to write that needs to come out of my head, but so far the words, or rather the motivation to expel the words, just hasn't found it's way from wherever the hell motivation comes from to my fingers. I DID get the office unpacked and sort of put away this week. There are officially no more moving boxes or big plastic totes lying around everywhere. I mean, there are some, but they have stuff in them that never will really have a home in the iTapt (slides from my Gramps that I'm scanning in...salt and pepper shakers that I'm holding for someone).

"I swear officer, those aren't my peppercorns. I was just holding them for a friend."

NEXT WEEK on a Very Special Episode of iTod's Funky Jams, "Lethal Pepper: The Gateway Spice."

"C'mon Shawty. I need some of them Indian peppercorns..."

"I can't do nothin' for ya man.."

"What?....why not?"

"Look man...you gots to get yo'self off that demon spice man! Pepper's gonna fuck up your life...look at me...it starts with pepper...and oh yeah...that kick is so nice on all your food. You got that little bit o' black lovin' on there. But soon it won't be enough man. You'll start lookin' at gah'lic powder for that kick. Or Cumin mixed with a nice saffron...and that shit's hard to score. But if you don't watch yo'self you'll be pulling shit jobs at the market just to try to get some curry. And that shit, brother will fuck you up!!"

"But...but...Shawty...you da Spice Man!!"

"I can't do it, T....you gots to get yo'self right!"

OK...since I've somehow scripted this whole thing out in my head, I should probably tell you that Shawty is being played by the same guy who played Gradie on Sanford & Son. And my character is played by Ricky Schroeder...somewhere between Silver Spoons and NYPD Blue. I'm tellin' ya...when I have an ABC Afterschool Special moment play out in my head...I don't half-ass it.

Damn. That's got me thinking. Someone somewhere has to have assembled the mother of all ABC Afterschool Special collection. On Blu-Ray...because if I'm going to watch 70's and 80's ridiculousness, I want it to be on a format that has way higher quality than the source it was originally recorded on.

And with that, it looks like my lunch break is nearly finished. I leave you with this same-day selfie:

My new shirt and hat from Target. I have a whole big rant about how something that was designed to help feed American families by it's sale was made in China. Wouldn't it have made more sense to feed more American families by its production AND its sale?

But I digress.

Time to get back to work.

Have a fantastic weekend my friends!




Going For A Quick Jog

Today was kind of a crazy day.

I write that opening sentence sitting in my living room. In the dark. Lights out save for the fluorescent over the sink in the kitchen, the glow of the iPad on my lap board and the lightning that is peppering the sky outside (of course I left the curtains open for that, duh).

This morning didn't start out too crazy. I cleaned up a bit. I did dishes. I got my laundry ready to do. I got the canvas laptop bag out of the himalayan storage area it was hiding in (recycling my bags keeps me from getting new ones and forces me to work on appreciating shit I already own. It's pretty much the only way I justify shopping-therapy).

The thunder storm sounds like it might actually kick back up a notch and that's cool. I love thunderstorms. I would be writing this on my wraparound porch right now, watching the thunderstorm from a front row seat. If I had one.


So...yeah. Dishes. NBD. Laundry prep. NBD. A friend dropped off some Advocare shakes they weren't using (perfect timing. I can never have too many of those...well, I mean on hand...not like I can never have too many at one sitting...because, clearly, you can). And then I threw some Rush on the turn table for some Sunday Morning spins.

As YYZ is kicking in, there's a knock on my door. Surprisingly, the knock is the rhythm of YYZ. Darrin, my best mate from my college days (and after) comes strolling in. The surprise registers on his face too as he realizes YYZ is on.

The last time he was here was a week or so after I had moved in. There were boxes everywhere and I don't think there was really too many places to sit. Now the place is mine. It's home. It's my home. And it's a good feeling. We discussed the ups and downs of the first holiday of being single in quite some time (nearly11 years). And how it really kind of just sucked balls. I'm hoping it didn't suck for her. I'm guessing she's probably embraced her new life more quickly than I. But...enough of that.

We decided to head over to MicroCenter for the 3rd time in as many days to take advantage of the Friends and Family discounts. As we were leaving the neighborhood, I almost ran in to a jogger. It was an honest mistake. I didn't look left right then left again. And as he passed "Look both ways, asshole" was the angry retort I got. "I'm sorry" was my reply. "Fucking Cocksucker" was the follow up. To which I just said "Nice attitude jack ass. I already apologized, fucking let it go." He said something about being a dick and kept running. Which...meh. That was fine. We headed over to MicroCenter.

The lesson, boys and girls...always look both ways before running over joggers.

The jogger helped me solidify a theory that I had started to formulate when I got the 'fat' comments from the bartender-dude on Friday. And that's this....the quicker someone escalates their reaction, the more likely it is that they are actually projecting some of their own baggage on to you and it's not actually anything you did (or at least nothing you did to the degree that merits the intensity of their reactions). I also realized that I really do hate jogging.

MicroCenter was mostly uneventful. We headed back to my place, dropped off the loot and headed Uptown. Wings and Graeter's were the order of the afternoon. Tried some Hot Teriyaki and Darrin had the hot jalepeno.

As we were walking back, we stopped in Cinda Lou's. I had never been. I figured it to just be a vintage store (which was cool in its own right). I was going to pick up one of the 'Rockin' the Ville' t-shirts (which I will do Friday). And then I saw the back of the store. The back room of the store was still the back room like it used to be when it was Sour Records. And my heart did a little happy dance. Seriously. A happy dance. I knew now that I had a least a Saturday afternoon or two of exploration in there. So...yay!

We came back and diddlefarted around with some different streaming videos and then commenced with dinner.

I'm not really who started the conversation on Katy Perry. But before I knew it. We were watching the Katy Perry movie "A Part of Me."

I'm not going to lie. I liked it. And I'm also not going to lie. I like her music. I'm really thinking she's on my list of concerts I have to see. I think I missed her on her last stop through here, but if she hits CBus again...I'm gonna be there because the show just looks fun. The best part though was looking over and Darrin knows all the words. Not just to the radio friendly cuts that are in the movie. No..motherfucker knows the obscure shit. Haha. Darrin kicks ass. Seriously. You don't even know.

There was a scene in the movie where Russel B ended the marriage (via text of all things). And later someone in the crew was like 'you still miss him?' and she cries. Because she does.

And I get that.

I mean. I know that it's over. I know that we won't reconcile. And at this point, I don't even know her anymore. But I miss her. I don't miss the her that she was when we split up. I miss the her that she was 11 years ago. And that's not fair. Really. Because who the fuck is the same person they were 11 years ago. Are you? No. I'm sure as shit not. I'm not even the same person I was last year. But that doesn't change the fact that sometimes I still think of those times. I mean, shit, I've only been out of the house for just over 3 months. It's still relatively fresh yet.

Time doesn't heal the wounds. Life heals the wounds. Time puts the salve on your mind and soothes the memory of how you got the wounds in the first place.

My mom posted this to my wall today. And it's cool for a lot of reasons...not the least of which is that my mom never swears. So...I leave you with this...because my mom fucking rules.

I'm gonna go work on some more of the biography as this thunderstorm works itself up to a respectable din. Have a kick ass evening (and an even better tomorrow) my friends!





So...long time readers and lurkers who have gone back and read through past posts will know that I used to frequent Brew-Stirs on Sunbury Road. It was a Friday/Saturday night tradition. And by tradition I mean it was something I did to be able to function in my situation for the rest of the week. Sure...I knew the marriage was far from ideal, but by hanging out with my 'friends' I could at least pretend like there was a bright spot. And the astute observer (pun intended) will note that the bright spot should have been my home life, it wasn't.

So now, because of what that place represented to me (an escape, if you will), when I go there...it brings back those feelings. It's a little too close to what used to be my house (stumbling distance, actually). And because if that, I think that whenever I go, I'm reminded of that former life.

And I don't like those feelings. Ironically, those feelings are used to be what I went to Brew-Stirs to get away from. Now, going there dredges up those feelings. It's a weird catch-22. I used to enjoy going there. Now it's just weird. And last night, when one of the bartenders..someone who was more than an acquaintance (but not quite someone I'd call a friend)...basically gave me shit for 'getting fat again and letting myself go,' I knew that it was probably time that I faced the facts. I have, it seems, outgrown Brew-Stirs. It's time for me to put that one up on a shelf as a time and place that got me through a lot of tough times and enjoy the memories I made there. But it's also time to move on with my new life. Whatever that actually entails.

In that same vein, I went to a party for a friend today. A friend and former neighbor from that old life. His house is right next door to the old house. I was assured upon arrival that the ex wouldn't be there until much later as she had rehearsal (natch). And that was fine. I was actually planning the whole way over what polite chit chat I could have with her and mentally running over the blue prints of their place in my mind so as to have the plan of maximum avoidance down pat. Thing is...I'm not afraid to see her or interact. I just don't want to.

All of this comes on tope of having a holiday...the first holiday as a single man. Normally we'd go as a cul-de-sac and hang out and watch the fireworks. Because I assumed that the same would hold true this year, I avoided that scene. And it was kind of a bummer. I do like seeing fireworks. I just have to scope out a new place to watch them from now. As it so happens, the ex did not join the neighbors...and I wound up jamming over at a friend's house for the evening. So...it all worked out. Except I didn't get to see fireworks. Oh well, there is always next year.

And the year after that.

As time passes, I know that this will all get...not necessarily easier. But it will become my new normal. And I'm ok with that. Speaking of the new normal, I'm chilling at the community picnic table (trying out the dryer sheet mosquito repellent) as I type this. A nice cool summer breeze is blowing and it's just a very chill environment. I have some extra beers in the coolers for any inquisitive neighbors. Life is good.

OK. I went for a good twenty minutes before getting bitten three times. The dryer sheet mosquito repellent thing is bull shit. Of course it probably has to be a very certain kind...Bounce with DDT or some shit like that. Either way...I'm inside. I'll get some citronella candles or some danged bug spray for tomorrow. Because I can see sitting at that picnic table and writing as being very therapeutic.

Alright. I had some ideas for the next book that's bubbling up inside me (no...not that one...this is one of those 'autobiography up to now' kind of books. Or...as I like to call it, cathartic discharge).

With that, I take my leave. Gonna finish this beer...peruse FaceTimeSuck Book for a bit, then maybe get a few pages out on that other book. And probably a few more beers in there before calling it a night.

Peace Out my friends. Have a good evening (or...whatever part of the day it might be as you read this).





A Weekend of the Spins

I sometimes curse the long commute. Traffic aside (traffic is my bane...despise it and have yet learned to embrace it)...the problem with my current commute is that it's just long enough that I start thinking of things...such as clever titles and directions I want today's blunch (blog lunch...hey--it was better than llog) to flow. I had a really cool and clever idea.

And now it's shit because I've forgotten it completely. If there is any sense to the irony of the universe, I'll remember the title and flow for the blog on the way home. I really can't wait until we have cars that drive themselves so I can have an extra 30minutes to type that isht out on the ways to and from work. Someday. Someday it will happen. And then my only choice for the commute will be to take the auto-drive flying car or the jet-pack. Decisions, decisions.

Speaking of decisions....the above pic doesn't appear to have been a good decision. Clearly the person in that picture has had way too much fun at the bar. In truth, that person had just enough fun at the bar. That person is me (I know, the red Hellboy skin probably threw you off). And at that point I was on my 5th glass...of water. I went to BrewStirs Saturday night. And I have to say....friends aside, it's just not the same anymore. I'm pretty sure I used to hang there on Fridays and Saturdays from 9-close because it was better than hanging at home on my computer for the evening. A little self-medication if you will. So...now that I'm no longer in walking distance, that's not as much of an option. But even more so...there just doesn't seem to be the desire to get stupid there any more. So, it's just kind of a weird shift. It's not the same place. Or maybe it is and I'm not the same person going there anymore. I think that's probably more of the case.

Speaking of boobies. No. I know, I wasn't, but now that I have your attention....eh...I have absolutely no idea what to do with it. But the game, "Booby Trap" is a perfect example of a Parker Brothers game of natural selection. This thing came out in the 60's. And it's awesome. It's the pre-cursor to 'Perfection.' Pull the wrong piece and the pieces fly out. Of course back then if a kid choked on a piece, the parents dealt swift 'why the hell did you do that?!' justice (after the hiemlich to dislodge the piece or codfish oil to help it pass). There was none of this 'sue the company because we can't be responsible for our kids' b.s. that is so prevalent in our litigious society. I'm guessing ParkerBrother's could never make anything as simple and fun as this game today. If you have a chance to pick one up at a garage sale or thrift store, you should...it's a blast!

Speaking of another lame segue. I cleared off the shelf of the XBox360 this weekend and in part of the trade got some new cases for my phone and iPod. It's old school Marvel characters. Yeah. I'm kind of a geek like that. I have some good memories of my comic books as a kid and this just brought those back. Well...these cases and the box of comic books I found as I was unpacking my office this weekend.

And the spins from this weekend? Oh, nothing to worry about. I didn't drink too much (Saturday night, that is. Friday night is a different story (but I walked home, so that's all good). The spins were because I was spinning records. Yup, as you may have already read, I got the turntable fixed and operational. It was pumped up way past eleven.

And when I get home, I'll throw another record on to start the evening.

Life is indeed good, my friends.

Have a fantastic rest of your Monday. My lunch is over. And, coincidentally, so is this post.

Peace Out!




Failing NaNo - 4 Years and Counting

I looked, Dear Readers, and noted that the last time I saw fit to let the words fall from my brain bucket and onto these virtual pages was o...