28.10.10
24.10.10
Waiting
So SheWhoDoesNotHaveABlogNickname and I are waiting for the contractor to meet. Maybe we will fire him. We sure as hell will fire him if he doesn't show up.
That will suck.
That will suck.
23.10.10
House onwards
So the house project continues very very slowly. It's actually starting to seriously impact my karmic balance.
The future of the house is literally up in the air, which leaves my possessions, my space and The Boy's space and possessions up in the air as well.
I have done what homework I could think to do with the contractor, but his pace is now a major cause of worry. Without significant advances quickly, this reno could have negative consequences for the rest of the house.
I've done my best to treat the house well over the last few years, with mixed success, but I may have gotten in over my head on this one. And while it would be 'facile' to say that I'll learn a lot regardless of whether this succeeds, I'm not happy doing that with several hundred thousand dollars of house and home.
And I must also remember that maybe it will be just fine and will come together ish sha Allah.
The future of the house is literally up in the air, which leaves my possessions, my space and The Boy's space and possessions up in the air as well.
I have done what homework I could think to do with the contractor, but his pace is now a major cause of worry. Without significant advances quickly, this reno could have negative consequences for the rest of the house.
I've done my best to treat the house well over the last few years, with mixed success, but I may have gotten in over my head on this one. And while it would be 'facile' to say that I'll learn a lot regardless of whether this succeeds, I'm not happy doing that with several hundred thousand dollars of house and home.
And I must also remember that maybe it will be just fine and will come together ish sha Allah.
12.9.10
Garage 2
Sweet jebus.
I am close to done. 3 walls out of 4 are done, and the 4th wall only has tools. The props are mostly packed and back in the house, and the floors is swept and vacuumed.
I need to emphasize again the quantity of crap in this garage.
Total linear feet: 60.
Stacked about 8 feet high (on average, I would say)
about 2 feet thick.
960 cubic feet of stuff. So if you picked up a box (that was one cubic foot) a day and moved it, it would take two years to empty. TWO YEARS.
I am close to done. 3 walls out of 4 are done, and the 4th wall only has tools. The props are mostly packed and back in the house, and the floors is swept and vacuumed.
I need to emphasize again the quantity of crap in this garage.
Total linear feet: 60.
Stacked about 8 feet high (on average, I would say)
about 2 feet thick.
960 cubic feet of stuff. So if you picked up a box (that was one cubic foot) a day and moved it, it would take two years to empty. TWO YEARS.
11.9.10
Garage cleaning
So I have been cleaning out my garage, and by cleaning out, I mean.. emptying. It has to be emptied to be moved, so that the house can be moved, so that the basement can be repoured. It's a complex tapestry, ok?
Anyway, I'm cleaning out the garage. Today I set aside about a cord of building materials and props that I want to keep, a cord of building supplies that I hope people will steal, and about a cord of garbage.
For many years I have said that my garage is not that bad. "Oh, there's a few things in there, but it's under control," I would say, or "Yah, I'll get it cleaned out one day".
Well. the ratio of what I thought it would take to clean out and what it has actually taken is about 3:1. I would say that I only knew about a third of the deposits and caches of things hidden in the garage. Some of the caches predate me, and are leftovers from the man I bought the house from.
So let this be a warning to you! If you are carrying around an albatross , it is bigger than you think! It is HUGE! HUUUUUUUUGE.
Anyway, I'm cleaning out the garage. Today I set aside about a cord of building materials and props that I want to keep, a cord of building supplies that I hope people will steal, and about a cord of garbage.
For many years I have said that my garage is not that bad. "Oh, there's a few things in there, but it's under control," I would say, or "Yah, I'll get it cleaned out one day".
Well. the ratio of what I thought it would take to clean out and what it has actually taken is about 3:1. I would say that I only knew about a third of the deposits and caches of things hidden in the garage. Some of the caches predate me, and are leftovers from the man I bought the house from.
So let this be a warning to you! If you are carrying around an albatross , it is bigger than you think! It is HUGE! HUUUUUUUUGE.
17.8.10
Reviewing
(2 blog posts in 2 days? I must be ill)
In a previous blog post, I talked about the concept that, as a solo unit, I can do what I like when I like and so I'm quite productive.
This is quite interesting to re-read now, when I'm in a place where I am putting quite a lot of work into being not solo any more and maybe making that a long-term arrangement.
There is trouble a-brewed between my 'single source of future' and she-who-does-not-have-a-blog-nickname, as one might expect. (I think the problem has largely been de-brewed, btw). It was very difficult to relinquish my stranglehold on the future and deliberately and, without any sense of confidence that I would agree, let someone else decide.
The next difficulty is trying to convince the decider, that though I don't agree necessarily, I support any decision made. This usually leads to attempting to convince me to agree, which I feel is moot at that point.
The physical energy piece is also an interesting one that has re-occurred, and that will need some management in the future. I remain able to do 6-8 hours of physical labour in the course of a day, and don't particularly enjoy having to stop. I don't want to change this, but I want it to not cause any distress. Mostly it doesn't.
Anyway, back to defensive driving class!
In a previous blog post, I talked about the concept that, as a solo unit, I can do what I like when I like and so I'm quite productive.
This is quite interesting to re-read now, when I'm in a place where I am putting quite a lot of work into being not solo any more and maybe making that a long-term arrangement.
There is trouble a-brewed between my 'single source of future' and she-who-does-not-have-a-blog-nickname, as one might expect. (I think the problem has largely been de-brewed, btw). It was very difficult to relinquish my stranglehold on the future and deliberately and, without any sense of confidence that I would agree, let someone else decide.
The next difficulty is trying to convince the decider, that though I don't agree necessarily, I support any decision made. This usually leads to attempting to convince me to agree, which I feel is moot at that point.
The physical energy piece is also an interesting one that has re-occurred, and that will need some management in the future. I remain able to do 6-8 hours of physical labour in the course of a day, and don't particularly enjoy having to stop. I don't want to change this, but I want it to not cause any distress. Mostly it doesn't.
Anyway, back to defensive driving class!
16.8.10
Muses (first draft)
(Note: I did not make a "Musing on Muses" pun. This is rare)
From Wikipedia: "Three ancient Muses were also reported in Plutarch's Quaestiones Conviviviales (9.I4.2-4).[5] The Roman scholar Varro relates that there are only three Muses: one who is born from the movement of water, another who makes sound by striking the air, and a third, who is embodied only in the human voice. However the Classical understanding of the muses tripled their triad, set at nine goddesses, who embody the arts and inspire creation with their graces through remembered and improvised song and stage, writing, traditional music, and dance."
It is clear that the Classical understanding is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Going back to the source, Varro, we will examine his three Muses:
"One is born from the movement of water". The movement of water, also known as the Hydrologic Cycle. Plutarch has not documented a graceful figure who trips lightly from rock to rock like the current of a stream in a beer ad causing artists to leap to their easels and create paintings using light tripping brush strokes or musicians to dot the staves with tiny effervescent symbols of sound; he has documented an unending pattern of repeating inspiration: 'Have you finished Hell yet, Dante? How 'bout now? You promised it to the Papal Legate three weeks ago. Are you working on it right now? You should work on it now. This is going to be like the Convivio again, isn't it? Why aren't you working on it right now?"
"One who makes sound by striking the air". This Muse is throwing punches!. Possibly also throwing crockery. The only reasonable explanation for why she is striking the air is that she is missing the artist. Lucky fellow. This muse is not a willowy figure flitting among the daisies; this muse is armed with a wallpaper sponge and about 8 milliseconds of patience. Not getting that aria finished, Giacomo? WHIIIIIZZZZ goes the wallpaper sponge, just over your head. You bet it'll get done. Trouble with the theory of relativity, Al? ZOOOOOOOOM, right in front of your face with the ol' sponge again. Inspiration better strike before she does, 'cause she's angry!
"One who is embodied only in the human voice" Ooh, you're a young artist, I bet you'd love a lilting voice singing Enya songs to inspire you, wouldn't you? has it occurred to you that the human voice can be used in some other ways? What you're getting, my friend, is the muse of shouting. You'll be locked in some quandary about what finger God is using to impart awesomeness to man, and you'll hear "WHY ISN'T THIS CEILING PAINTED YET, MICHAEL?" And of course, the reason she's embodied only in the voice is that you never get a chance to see her coming; she is invisible. If you're very lucky, you might get to hear the key in the door or the click of the latch before the 'inspiration' starts.
Old Varro there, he was smart. And he knew that artists, by and large, aren't. So he told them thus, "Guys, you want to be inspired and meet your potential? Find a partner who will not give up reminding you what you're supposed to be doing, has a strong pitching arm but the courtesy to not brain you without a warning shot, and who will have zero patience for your fits of artistic pique"
Lucky fellows, them artists!
From Wikipedia: "Three ancient Muses were also reported in Plutarch's Quaestiones Conviviviales (9.I4.2-4).[5] The Roman scholar Varro relates that there are only three Muses: one who is born from the movement of water, another who makes sound by striking the air, and a third, who is embodied only in the human voice. However the Classical understanding of the muses tripled their triad, set at nine goddesses, who embody the arts and inspire creation with their graces through remembered and improvised song and stage, writing, traditional music, and dance."
It is clear that the Classical understanding is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Going back to the source, Varro, we will examine his three Muses:
"One is born from the movement of water". The movement of water, also known as the Hydrologic Cycle. Plutarch has not documented a graceful figure who trips lightly from rock to rock like the current of a stream in a beer ad causing artists to leap to their easels and create paintings using light tripping brush strokes or musicians to dot the staves with tiny effervescent symbols of sound; he has documented an unending pattern of repeating inspiration: 'Have you finished Hell yet, Dante? How 'bout now? You promised it to the Papal Legate three weeks ago. Are you working on it right now? You should work on it now. This is going to be like the Convivio again, isn't it? Why aren't you working on it right now?"
"One who makes sound by striking the air". This Muse is throwing punches!. Possibly also throwing crockery. The only reasonable explanation for why she is striking the air is that she is missing the artist. Lucky fellow. This muse is not a willowy figure flitting among the daisies; this muse is armed with a wallpaper sponge and about 8 milliseconds of patience. Not getting that aria finished, Giacomo? WHIIIIIZZZZ goes the wallpaper sponge, just over your head. You bet it'll get done. Trouble with the theory of relativity, Al? ZOOOOOOOOM, right in front of your face with the ol' sponge again. Inspiration better strike before she does, 'cause she's angry!
"One who is embodied only in the human voice" Ooh, you're a young artist, I bet you'd love a lilting voice singing Enya songs to inspire you, wouldn't you? has it occurred to you that the human voice can be used in some other ways? What you're getting, my friend, is the muse of shouting. You'll be locked in some quandary about what finger God is using to impart awesomeness to man, and you'll hear "WHY ISN'T THIS CEILING PAINTED YET, MICHAEL?" And of course, the reason she's embodied only in the voice is that you never get a chance to see her coming; she is invisible. If you're very lucky, you might get to hear the key in the door or the click of the latch before the 'inspiration' starts.
Old Varro there, he was smart. And he knew that artists, by and large, aren't. So he told them thus, "Guys, you want to be inspired and meet your potential? Find a partner who will not give up reminding you what you're supposed to be doing, has a strong pitching arm but the courtesy to not brain you without a warning shot, and who will have zero patience for your fits of artistic pique"
Lucky fellows, them artists!
11.8.10
Blogula!
Count Blogula, the undead blog, rises from the grave!
Since we last spoke, here's the various scoops:
My house remains obstinately on the ground, foiled by 'Audrey' at the Planning department of Prairie Metropolis. See, my house is so close to the house next door that the City would very much like it if the houses were torn down and replaced with something spaced a little farther apart. As of this morning, The Contractor and I, who are in constant contact, believe we are leaping the last hurdle even now. The main bone of confusion seems to be that the City thinks I am raising the house to a new level, when in fact, I am lowering it. Kinda.
I am continuing to live with She Who Does Not Have A Blog Nickname, and that is going very well. The condo is no bigger than it was, but that's ok, too. I do really miss living in Isambard, but that will come back in its time too. I am 100% aware of the stress that moving into that house may cause her, but I'm gonna make that play nonetheless when the time is right!
There is much to do on renovating it on the inside before that can happen, anyway, so
there's not a huge rush.
UPDATE: Audrey, the cruel empress of planning, has relinquished the house, and I am informed that we are marching forward. More details to follow.
Since we last spoke, here's the various scoops:
My house remains obstinately on the ground, foiled by 'Audrey' at the Planning department of Prairie Metropolis. See, my house is so close to the house next door that the City would very much like it if the houses were torn down and replaced with something spaced a little farther apart. As of this morning, The Contractor and I, who are in constant contact, believe we are leaping the last hurdle even now. The main bone of confusion seems to be that the City thinks I am raising the house to a new level, when in fact, I am lowering it. Kinda.
I am continuing to live with She Who Does Not Have A Blog Nickname, and that is going very well. The condo is no bigger than it was, but that's ok, too. I do really miss living in Isambard, but that will come back in its time too. I am 100% aware of the stress that moving into that house may cause her, but I'm gonna make that play nonetheless when the time is right!
There is much to do on renovating it on the inside before that can happen, anyway, so
there's not a huge rush.
UPDATE: Audrey, the cruel empress of planning, has relinquished the house, and I am informed that we are marching forward. More details to follow.
14.6.10
Cohabitating, part... I don't know... 7?
A few more things I've noted:
1) Three cats produce approximately 1/2 a litre of hair a week. On laminate flooring, it 'pools' together due to the air stirred up by the passage of people, and fifth floor wind gusts.
2) It's really nice to live with someone who does laundry the same way you do. It's a huge thing-that-isn't-stressful.
3) Apartments are really small. The kitchens are small, the bedrooms are small, the living room is-- actually, pretty big.
4) Getting into the routines is a constant source of negootiation. Grocery buying the first time was a bit of a hassle, trying to buy groceries for two. I've evolved a somewhat strange style of grocery buying the last two years, based on gettign generic staples and some basic ingredients, THEN basing my menus on what I have. Turns otu there's a large body of folks what do it differently! Apparently you can buy gorciers by starting with the the menu THEN buying corresponding groceries.
Weird....
1) Three cats produce approximately 1/2 a litre of hair a week. On laminate flooring, it 'pools' together due to the air stirred up by the passage of people, and fifth floor wind gusts.
2) It's really nice to live with someone who does laundry the same way you do. It's a huge thing-that-isn't-stressful.
3) Apartments are really small. The kitchens are small, the bedrooms are small, the living room is-- actually, pretty big.
4) Getting into the routines is a constant source of negootiation. Grocery buying the first time was a bit of a hassle, trying to buy groceries for two. I've evolved a somewhat strange style of grocery buying the last two years, based on gettign generic staples and some basic ingredients, THEN basing my menus on what I have. Turns otu there's a large body of folks what do it differently! Apparently you can buy gorciers by starting with the the menu THEN buying corresponding groceries.
Weird....
27.5.10
Guinea pigs.
Dear sir or madam,
Should we meet, I a civilized man of some taste and distinction, and
you, a person who poisons guinea pigs, I will punch you in the cock.
In the interim, I remain,
Yours truly,
The Stealthy Dachshund.
Should we meet, I a civilized man of some taste and distinction, and
you, a person who poisons guinea pigs, I will punch you in the cock.
In the interim, I remain,
Yours truly,
The Stealthy Dachshund.
--
Sent from my mobile device
26.5.10
Living together more
I don't fight well. It's not a skill I have developed. But I tell ya, I'm developing it now.
Here's what I've learned:
The fight is never about what it is about. It's about something else. That doesn't mwean it's a bad thing, but you haev to get through the small stuff to get to the big stuff (that's usually also not that big)
The faster you fight, the faster it's over. Get it done. Yesterday, there was a fight that would have taken... 4 days or so in a previous life, becuase of my efforts to avoid it. Last night, diving in, it toook ten minutes.
Because the fight is not about what you think it is about, you never actually lose. Say you don't like barstools. Your partner wants to buy 12 of them. So you fight about it. You're not going to lose that fight, even if you get the barstools, because it's not about barstools; it's about... oh, let's say... not being listened to. After the fight, you'll have been listened to, and you won't care about barstools.
And so it goes.
I've also learned that cat hair builds up faster in 800 sq.ft. than it does in 1800 sq.ft.
Here's what I've learned:
The fight is never about what it is about. It's about something else. That doesn't mwean it's a bad thing, but you haev to get through the small stuff to get to the big stuff (that's usually also not that big)
The faster you fight, the faster it's over. Get it done. Yesterday, there was a fight that would have taken... 4 days or so in a previous life, becuase of my efforts to avoid it. Last night, diving in, it toook ten minutes.
Because the fight is not about what you think it is about, you never actually lose. Say you don't like barstools. Your partner wants to buy 12 of them. So you fight about it. You're not going to lose that fight, even if you get the barstools, because it's not about barstools; it's about... oh, let's say... not being listened to. After the fight, you'll have been listened to, and you won't care about barstools.
And so it goes.
I've also learned that cat hair builds up faster in 800 sq.ft. than it does in 1800 sq.ft.
21.5.10
More cohabitating.
I have learned another thing.
I don't clean 'cause I think I should. I don't clean 'cause I think it will make the people around me happy. I don't clean because I'm a neat person.
I clean because it makes me feel good.
It's a drug.
I don't clean 'cause I think I should. I don't clean 'cause I think it will make the people around me happy. I don't clean because I'm a neat person.
I clean because it makes me feel good.
It's a drug.
19.5.10
Cohabitation... take 2?
Well for those of you not in the loop on this, She-who-does-not-yet-have-a-blog-nickname and I are cohabitating in her condo while I redo my basement.
So I moved the cats and the fish and the plant over there on... Sunday I guess, and a few clothes, etc.
We've been spending most of our time together anyway, so it's not a huge change in how much we see each other, but there's still some subtle changes that are just now coming to me...
1) Affection by housework. I notice this pattern re-asserting itself. I like the look of a clean kitchen; I find it very calming. I suppose it's an assumption of mine that my partner feels the same way, and that when she comes home and sees the clean kitchen or bathroom or whatever, then she will feel the same calming effect that I do, and associate it with me. I'm not sure that's good advertising. ;)
2) Apartment living. I have to keep my bike on the balcony of the condo. That is the very definition of a pain in the ass. Through the front door of the condo, past the cats through the dining room and over the 12" gap onto the balcony. I so love having a garage I can put my bike in.
3) Energy and water use. I'm a pretty crazy extreme-o environmentalist, and I get nervous and tense when the lights are left on, the water runs, or what have you. It's really hard not to make that everyone's problem. Despite the fact that I am completely correct in my environmental views (I KEED, I KEED), I need to remember that this is MY problem.
4) Space. I am conscious of trying to take up as little space as possible. I don't know why, but I am. It's a similar feeling to the environmentalism. Food for thought, anyway.
5) Cats. They see everything as beds. Chairs are cat beds, tables are cat beds, shelves are cat beds, people are cat beds, the GRAND PIANO is a cat bed.
That's it for now.
So I moved the cats and the fish and the plant over there on... Sunday I guess, and a few clothes, etc.
We've been spending most of our time together anyway, so it's not a huge change in how much we see each other, but there's still some subtle changes that are just now coming to me...
1) Affection by housework. I notice this pattern re-asserting itself. I like the look of a clean kitchen; I find it very calming. I suppose it's an assumption of mine that my partner feels the same way, and that when she comes home and sees the clean kitchen or bathroom or whatever, then she will feel the same calming effect that I do, and associate it with me. I'm not sure that's good advertising. ;)
2) Apartment living. I have to keep my bike on the balcony of the condo. That is the very definition of a pain in the ass. Through the front door of the condo, past the cats through the dining room and over the 12" gap onto the balcony. I so love having a garage I can put my bike in.
3) Energy and water use. I'm a pretty crazy extreme-o environmentalist, and I get nervous and tense when the lights are left on, the water runs, or what have you. It's really hard not to make that everyone's problem. Despite the fact that I am completely correct in my environmental views (I KEED, I KEED), I need to remember that this is MY problem.
4) Space. I am conscious of trying to take up as little space as possible. I don't know why, but I am. It's a similar feeling to the environmentalism. Food for thought, anyway.
5) Cats. They see everything as beds. Chairs are cat beds, tables are cat beds, shelves are cat beds, people are cat beds, the GRAND PIANO is a cat bed.
That's it for now.
14.5.10
Ohhhh yeaaahhh... the other thing!
OH YEAH!
I forgot. I also did the second trip to the courthouse yesterday to get divorced.
Ok, so the first visit, you just popp in and you say "Hiya, I'd like to get divorced" and they say "ok, here's your divorce number". But you say it in 6 pages.
The second visit you tell them that someone told your spouse, you tell them WHO told your spouse, you tell them you weren't kidding and you'd actually like to get divorced for real, you tell them that you are actually you, you tell them you were actually married, and then you tell them how to give you a divorce. You tell them this in 15 pages, containing 3 signed pieces of evidence, 2 separate documents sworn by a commissioner, and then you go home.
So that's what I did!
I"m still not divorced; the divorce egg takes 8 weeks to hatch... so I wait.
I forgot. I also did the second trip to the courthouse yesterday to get divorced.
Ok, so the first visit, you just popp in and you say "Hiya, I'd like to get divorced" and they say "ok, here's your divorce number". But you say it in 6 pages.
The second visit you tell them that someone told your spouse, you tell them WHO told your spouse, you tell them you weren't kidding and you'd actually like to get divorced for real, you tell them that you are actually you, you tell them you were actually married, and then you tell them how to give you a divorce. You tell them this in 15 pages, containing 3 signed pieces of evidence, 2 separate documents sworn by a commissioner, and then you go home.
So that's what I did!
I"m still not divorced; the divorce egg takes 8 weeks to hatch... so I wait.
Summary!
Well holy hannah on a stick, folks, this is busier than hell.
The relationship front is robust. Kinda a lot like being married again. In fact, we're moving in together while I fix up my house!
So... on the house front, the plan is to lift it up into the air, re-pour the basement, and put it back down again. There may be more stuff to get done while the house is empty, we'll see...
The Boy is doing very well, and getting ridiculously tall. He's grown an inch a month over the winter.
And hey, I just updated my blog! Woooo!
The relationship front is robust. Kinda a lot like being married again. In fact, we're moving in together while I fix up my house!
So... on the house front, the plan is to lift it up into the air, re-pour the basement, and put it back down again. There may be more stuff to get done while the house is empty, we'll see...
The Boy is doing very well, and getting ridiculously tall. He's grown an inch a month over the winter.
And hey, I just updated my blog! Woooo!
10.3.10
Oh dear sweet heavenly jebus.
So last year at work I operated a cross-sector meeting with a workshop
component. For 200 people. It went well.
The team was me, a crazy lady, and one guy who did little.
component. For 200 people. It went well.
The team was me, a crazy lady, and one guy who did little.
This year some new person is running it. For 130 people. With a team
of professional trainers and contractors, and 3 admin staff.
And it is a complete unmitigated shit-show.
--
Sent from my mobile device
26.2.10
A funny.
I have to share this because it's hilarious and this is the last place I can share this kind of stuff.
Friend: "has had a lovely phone interaction with the most obscene, irrate, and rude piece of ca-ca, EVER! I have lived in CRAZYTOWN for 8 years, we do NOT have an ESSO station. I had a courier call and ask me how to get to my house from ESSO. I told him, I am sorry, we do not have an ESSO in CRAZYTOWN. He proceeded to tell me... I was stupid. Hum buddy, you pissed off the wrong exhausted pregnant woman!"
ummm... so... being curious... I googled it. "CRAZYTOWN ESSO"
And there is an ESSO in CRAZYTOWN.
I guess we should focus on the fact that Friend is EXHAUSTED and about 12 months pregnant and possibly not in her right mind.
Friend: "has had a lovely phone interaction with the most obscene, irrate, and rude piece of ca-ca, EVER! I have lived in CRAZYTOWN for 8 years, we do NOT have an ESSO station. I had a courier call and ask me how to get to my house from ESSO. I told him, I am sorry, we do not have an ESSO in CRAZYTOWN. He proceeded to tell me... I was stupid. Hum buddy, you pissed off the wrong exhausted pregnant woman!"
ummm... so... being curious... I googled it. "CRAZYTOWN ESSO"
And there is an ESSO in CRAZYTOWN.
I guess we should focus on the fact that Friend is EXHAUSTED and about 12 months pregnant and possibly not in her right mind.
25.2.10
Parable
(Aka 'Oh Look, an Abandoned Blog')
Looked like on of those dives you see on the silver screen, all dark
booths and a long wooden bar. Unsavoury charatcers sit at tables, but
they don't talk. Heck, the entrance is even down an alley, just as
you think it should be.
I didn't think I remembered where it was, hell, I'd done some work to
forget. I'd thrown away the map, deleted the number, call it what you
like. Let's just say I wasn't eager to re-forge my relationship with
the place.
But there I was. Couldn't even remember how I got there. There'd
been a dustup... In front of Colby's maybe. Anyway, the lights came
back on in my head and I was back there. Glass of beer in my hand,
just like the old days. No pint glasses in here; this isn't Hudson's,
college boy.
Funny, but I never noticed the smell before that night, like a factory
stink. The stink of a hundred sweaty guys drinkin' desperation and
munching wasted-life from bowls on the bar. Saw a couple of old
acquaintances, friends I'd have called them then, grey sack-cloth for
faces and then little Xes sewn on for eyes. I don't think they saw
me. Maybe they did; maybe they didn't recognize me. Planning not to
be back meant I hadn't kept in touch, and I'd changed a fair 'mount.
Wouldn't you know it, but into this cess-pool of human sadness she walks.
And it was just like the scene in the movie, you know the one with the
music and the black and white soft focus. I think she even had a hat
on.
And she gives me five good reasons to get out of my chair right upside
the head and turns to walk out.
And I'm lying there in the ruins of my chair, half a bowl of salted
nuts and six ounces of beer and I had a choice to make. I could lay
there in the muck on the floor or get the hell up and out.
So I get up and out.
And if I see that place again before I'm a-hundred and eight, it'll be
seven life-times too soon.
--
Sent from my mobile device
4.1.10
Good gravy
It's been almost 2 months since I've blogged... so... here's a quick recap.
2 days after I last blogged I went on a first date with a truly amazing young lady.
5 days after I last blogged I got a promotion at work. I get paid $25 dollars more every two weeks! That's one ENTIRE case of beer! But on a more positive note, I haven't had to write a briefing note since.
The old house is coming along, I have nearly all gutted one room to reinsulate it and that makes me very very happy.
That's all the news for now.
Oh, and I made bread yesterday. It's easy.
2 days after I last blogged I went on a first date with a truly amazing young lady.
5 days after I last blogged I got a promotion at work. I get paid $25 dollars more every two weeks! That's one ENTIRE case of beer! But on a more positive note, I haven't had to write a briefing note since.
The old house is coming along, I have nearly all gutted one room to reinsulate it and that makes me very very happy.
That's all the news for now.
Oh, and I made bread yesterday. It's easy.
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