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Showing posts from February, 2014

A Leg To Stand On

I'm wondering at what point a daydream, waking dream, or even nocturnal dream becomes a premonition?

I only ask because I had a waking dream on the way over to a friend's house for dinner. It was the dream in which, through some quirk beyond my control, I lose my legs. The method always seems to differ, but the result is the same. I'm left unable to use my legs.

In this one the loss was due to an elective surgery to try to correct the arthritis in my neck  (in the C5, C6, and C7 area of my spine). Something gets nicked, leaving me paralyzed from the waist down.

I don't know if it could happen or not. It's as likely as getting them crushed in a parking lot traffic accident I suppose (this was the frequent cause in dreams past).

One thing was different this time. This time it was more like a thought, or a memory. And in the memories, I handled it quite well. I looked rather well-adjusted.

It gets me thinking...I'm past thinking these are dreams. The one today act…

Omm

I came across an old journal entry today. It was in my journal that I used to think was my rustic looking leather travel journal. The entry was set apart in the middle of the page. It said simply

Fucking Get Over Yourself.
Seriously.

And it strikes me as funny in a not so ironic sort of way how something that I had written nearly 3 years ago can ring so true today. I don’t know what I expected that journal to be.

Thats not entirely true. I wanted it to be my Dr. Jones (Indiana’s Dad) journal of the secrets of the universe that I had stumbled upon.

I think it can still be that. Or at the very least that I can still have a journal like that. I’m not sure if it’s that particular one or not, but I know that I can still have something like that for the simple reason that I know that those secrets are inside me.

Hell...they’re inside most of us. But very few people can face down those dark voices in the middle of the night and realize that it is their self from another universe speaking to th…

Stop Modifying Love

This thought hit me as I got out of the shower this morning and I just had to write it down: If you can't read it, it says:
"Take the adjectives away. Gay love. Straight love. Take the modifier out of the sentence and you are left with love.
For fuck's sake let's start acting like that means something."
That whole thing came to me when I learned of Arizona state legislature introducing the ability for anyone to refuse to serve or conduct business with someone that was gay because it went against their strong religious beliefs.
So...in other words, we have not only struck down the wall between separation of church and state but we have in some way legislated a perceived morality.
This won't end well. 
Let me see if I understand this...You can't call someone a 'faggot' on the street but you can refuse to do business with them. In other words, hate crimes are illegal, but segregation is OK. Because that's really what we're dealing with here, is…

"All I Wanted..."

"...was some fucking pretzel nibs."

Now before I get too deep in to this, I should mention something. There is an unwritten rule in the land of Cooking For One. And that is this. The closer to the beginning of the post I drop the first f-bomb, the more fire-up/incredulous/exited/generally emotional about something I am.

Or rather, until that last paragraph there was an unwritten rule.

Fuck. There goes that one.

I want to start by mentioning that as soon as I knew I was going to be staying at a Best Western, I signed up for rewards points. So...I'm some kind of blip on their screen that says they have to try to remember my name and give me free bottles of water or something.  Remember that, we'll circle back around to that shortly.

I'm here in Brooklyn with 2 of my co-workers.

The trip was rather uneventful as far as my New York trips have gone. We got here on time. And our luggage got here the same time we did. And I have to be honest--I'm a little cheesed of…

Enough IS Enough Already

So...long story short...the ex and I owe the IRS some dough. We're on a payment plan. The statements still come to the house I used to live in. Meaning at least once a month I have to drive over there or she mails the statements to me.

And there's the very concise-non-Dr-Phil-setup.

Apparently this seeps in to my subconscious....every fucking month.

This morning I awoke to an on-call call for work. Took care of what I needed to take care of and drifted back off to sleep (it's my day off, you're damn skippy I'm sleeping in).

Somewhere in this power-nap time, I had a quick albeit twisted dream. I was in a house. Not the house I'm in now-in fact no house I've ever lived in.  In the living room of this house were three people. Apparently I ran a home business and had employees. One of them was Duane...a childhood best friend. Another was a woman. And the third was named Mark. I walked up on them and they were watching concert footage of Pretty Lights. We talked…

The Serenity of the Battlestar

So...I just finished with the new (to me) Battlestar Galactica series. I have to say...I was fairly impressed. It was thoroughly engaging. I was a little annoyed at first with a few of the characters but by the end found myself rooting for people I never thought I would.

I'm a sci-fi geek from way back. The progression of my TV Sci-Fi habits goes a little like this.

Star Trek
I watched re-runs of this with my dad from as early on as I can remember. The original episodes still hold a special place in my heart. For a while as I was growing up, Dad and I didn't really know how to talk to each other (the Skaggs males excel at non-communication it seems). TV was how we interacted.

Dr. Who
On PBS...Sundays, if I recall. Back then it was Tom Baker. And there was none of this nonsense about the 5th Doctor or 6th Doctor. It was just Mr. Jelly Babies with the Long-ass scarf.

Battle of the Planets (Animated)
This is still my all time favorite cartoon. It was one of America's earliest An…

How To Drive Awesomer--Winter Edition

You may recall some of my driving tips way back in the "How To Drive Awesome" post. And I'm pleased to see in my daily commutes that so many of you have taken my lessons to heart. You truly are teh awesomes.

Thing is, it's winter in Ohio. And you know what that means--it's time for some advanced lessons.  Most of these hit me this morning as I was coming in to work.

All of these assume at least some level of Snow Emergency has been declared on the roads. Otherwise you're just driving in cold rain. And lets face it, anyone  can do that.

CAUTION IS FOR PUSSIES
Let's just get this out of the way now (trust me, it will make all of the subsequent lessons go that much smoother).  Braking...turn signals...assured cleared distance? Poppycock. You don't need that shit. All you need is the over-arching desire to get where the hell you're going. And I mean get there FAST.  The more you focus on yourself and you alone, and throw caution to the wind (as well a…

Well done, Coca-Cola

"Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

--"Colussus" by Emma Lazarus
The above poem is on a plaque on the Statue of Liberty. Long regarded as one of our country's premiere symbols of hope an freedom.
Mother of Exiles.
America the Beautiful.
The land where people come to gain a better life.  A piece of the American Dream. The small hope that you can leave for your family a legacy …