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 |   A little bit of everything, colored my own way. |
 BLOG CHALLENGE WINNER FOR SEPTEMBER 2011 AND APRIL 2012!! ** Image ID #1901871 Unavailable **  After almost a year away, I've decided to revisit Blogville. I'm refreshed and ready...this time around it'll be a little different. I'll talk about a little bit of everything...music, sports, retail life, and more. It's not for everyone...you might not like it, but someone you know (and possibly detest) probably will! WHO THE HELL DO I THINK I AM??  We're gonna find out one way or another!  Relax, enjoy, leave a comment, tell your friends... A special thanks to Julie D - PUBLISHED!  for the 2011 Quill Awards image!"There is only one way...it is THE WAY." -Photo Jesus  "Can't you count to one??"  Thanks for stopping by and showing your support!  |
| Hey everyone...it's been a good run, but the time has come. After 380 entries and over 17,600 views, I've been told to shut this down. I keep getting an error message when I edit an entry, saying I've exceeded the size limit for blogs (books). I didn't even know this was possible.  But fear not... "Who do I still think I am??"  will be up and running in no time. I hope to meet up with you all again over there. |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Tell me about a party you organized, or the most recent one you attended." This is a bit of a difficult prompt for me, because it's about the surprise 40th birthday party my ex had almost two tears ago. I came up with the idea, and mentioned it to her sister and her best friend. They were all for it. Her sis let us have it at her place, and got some of the food while coordinating the event with family members. I brought sausage, beer, snacks, pasta salad (that I made), and rounded up our friends. Her bestie organized her co-workers. Incredibly enough, my ex's work schedule was perfect that day...she was working right down the street from her sister's house, so I took her to work in the morning, did my shopping, made my contributions, and picked her up for what we casually called a "barbecue" at their place. It was an easy sell because we did that a lot. There was a decent turn-out. When it was time to pick her up, we weren't quite sure how to manage the "surprise" part. I suggested huddling everyone in the garage...normally we'd enter the house from the front door, but I put the garage door opener in my pocket. As we made our way up the driveway, I activated the opener and everyone yelled. I had someone waiting with our camera to record my ex's reaction. She was truly surprised! Nobody snitched or leaked. I'm honestly amazed at how we were able to pull it off. A few weeks later, her parents were in town visiting. Her mother was talking about what she had heard about the party, and kept going on and on about how my ex's sister did all the work and did such an amazing job, and she really seemed to be going out of her way to not thank me for my efforts and contributions, or acknowledge the importance of my role in the whole process. I'm still a little frustrated by that, but I don't have much of a choice other than to be over it. Can't do nothin' about it now. But besides it being damn near impossible to pull off without a hitch, I don't foresee myself ever going through that kind of trouble for anyone again. Sure, at the time we don't know what the end result is going to be, and in a perfect world a party of such magnitude doesn't leave a sour taste in your mouth, but we all know the world's not a perfect place. BCF PROMPT: "How short would your life have to be before you would have to start living differently today?" I'm not sure if I understand the purpose of this prompt. Basically, you're saying I have to live a life that leads me to a shorter life expectancy, figure that out, and then change it in the hopes that I would prolong my life? Is that what's really going on here? Well, that's how I'm treating it. I've never considered myself a lucky person, unless we're counting bad luck. Very few things often go the way they're planned (and it's neither here nor there if that's a result of my planning tendencies, or just the way things are, or some combination of the two). I can more likely rely on failure than positive thinking. I trust little and care less. And what does all of that mean? It's the roundabout way of saying "I really don't have an answer"  . I've had relatively few health scares (looking for some wood to knock on), but I'm still a little paranoid that someday I'll succumb to cancer or mental illness or some other form of death sooner rather than later. That's not to say I fear death; when your number's up, it's up. I accept that. I probably won't fight it. And I probably won't change. Ever.If we live in fear of something or run and hide, are we really enjoying ourselves? Are the sacrifices we make really worth it? I'd rather be dead at 40 having done what I enjoy most than stretching life out over 80 years unfulfilled and bored. Call it pessimistic or cynical; I don't care. There are too many things to worry about. Life is for living. It's for taking chances, bucking trends and proving naysayers wrong again. Life itself, no matter how old you are, is too short. Always. There's always gonna be something that didn't get done, a hand not shaken, an "I love you" unsaid, a trip you were too sick to take. But I'm not just going to quit smoking because I might get cancer, or stop eating fast food 'cuz I might get fat, or worry about things that are out of my control because the stress might make my blood pressure rise. I'm not gonna overwhelm myself with what not to do. I'm gonna do the things I wanna do because in the end, it doesn't go along with you. When you're gone, you're gone. There's no going back for seconds. As Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam once said in the song "Light Years", "No need to be void, or save up on life...you gotta spend it all." MUSICAL BREAK!! Technical issues.  Apparently this blog is now too large for WDC. |
| BCF PROMPT: "What historical time period would you live in that you have not previously lived in? (i.e. If you've lived in the 70's you can't say you'd like to live then.)" What's up, "Blogging Circle of Friends " ? I told myself I'd wait until noon for a "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" prompt. It's almost 1pm my time, and still nothing. Doesn't matter; it's an unofficial month anyway, it's almost summer and it's nice out so nobody else seems to be participating, and I'm running out of internet to bore myself with.So here's the skinny: I was born in 1975, so that eliminates anything from that point after. Which I'm fine with. Let VH1 do the recapping of those "eras". My take on them is cartoonish at best. I think, in terms of times I can most closely relate to, I would have to say I wish I were a teenager in the late sixties/early seventies. So that covers roughly a decade before I was born, but slightly older. I'd be old enough to remember JFK getting shot, but too young to understand why (much the same as when they made the announcement over the loud speakers when I was in kindergarten the day John Lennon died). Vietnam protests. If I were anything close back then to the person I am now, I'd probably march against the war. I'd burn my draft card, and maybe a few bras as well . But who's to say? Given my family's military history, maybe I would've enlisted (since I almost did after graduating in '93) instead. It's one of those scenarios where we say we'd know what we'd do, but we really don't know until we're faced with it.The Beatles and Beach Boys in their prime. The Who and Led Zeppelin. Woodstock. All those seminal moments in music history! Couple that with television changing and morphing into color and something closer to what we'd come to know for decades, and seeing how it would all start to make sense, rather than just accepting it for what it was in 1984 or 1994 or 2004. Baseball was America's Game. Corporations had sway, but they didn't control everything the way they do now. Advertising was just that, and not some "shove it down your throat" money fiend. "Mom & Pop" stores were ran by real moms and pops, and not overseas oil barons. Everything was lower, wages and prices...but you got more and better stuff for your buck. Can anyone tell me why we should feel any safer in this generation as opposed to the time between 1968 and 1973? Nobody's cured murder or cancer. Phones may have been tapped but your cloud wasn't. You could play up and down the block and when the streetlights came on, you went home. And if you didn't, you accepted your punishment because it was "character building", meaning you were less likely to do it again. I could go on and on, but you get my point. There are times when I feel very strongly that I should've been born under a different regime. In a different place and time. I catch myself occasionally daydreaming about it, but then realize it does no good to fantasize about a bygone way of living. There's too many problems in the present to worry about the past. 30DBC PROMPT: "Black" Boom...one last refresh and there's a prompt that's been sitting there for twenty minutes. One word. Five letters. Black. I'm going to do all I can to avoid any reference to this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ChbxMVgGV4. But I'm feeling very vague. I'm not even wearing any black today. I tried wearing my black Chucks a few weeks ago and my ankle was having none of that. But try this on for your eyes' size...black's not really a color or a race or a bean or a sea. It's a state of mind. It goes beyond my hipster black sweaters and tight jeans with the black Kangol pageboy hat turned backwards and black-rimmed glasses. It's a feeling. It's not just:  "Fade To Black" by Metallica "Back In Black" by AC/DC "Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos" by Public Enemy "Black Betty" by Ram Jam "Black Red Yellow" by Pearl Jam "Black Or White" by Michael Jackson "Black Cop" by Boogie Down Productions "Fell On Black Days" by Soundgarden "Black Day In July" by Gordon Lightfoot "Black Magic Woman" by SantanaNor is it limited to anything by these musicians: The Black Keys, The Black Eyed Peas, Frank Black, Black Sheep, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, The Black Crowes, Ritchie Blackmore, Black Sabbath, or Black Flag. It's all in how it makes you feel inside, and how you project it outward. I got nothin' else really. Black is back. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVSGsdCVxmc MUSICAL BREAK!!  Between the era and the color, there's just too many to choose from!  VITAL STATS:  I appreciate spell-checkers, but all this talk in the news recently about government surveillance, iWatches and Google Glass has me wondering...will we ever see the day that a spell-checking program comes along that can differentiate the usage between "an" and "and"? Because for some reason, my typing style doesn't lend well to me striking the letter "d" the way I should. I feel my finger hitting the key, and I feel the key going down, but I don't see a "d" on the screen as much as it should be there.  Activity time! Share your favorite artists and songs featuring the word black! Clint Black doesn't count, because country music doesn't count. But "Blackened" by Metallica counts.And that's where I'm leaving off on this fine Saturday afternoon. Enjoy the rest of your weekend...I won't be participating in the "Sunday Review" tomorrow because basically there's me and like, two or three other entries to talk about. So I guess I'll see ya Monday! Peace, watch out for the brown acid, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What part does humor play in your life?" Funny Friday y'all! What is up? Another fantastic prompt written directly from the depths of yours truly, and one that while I've had the advantage time to think about it and bounce it from one side of my skull to the other, unfortunately it didn't really hit anything in-between. Come to think of it, any perceived "head start" I may have had by knowing today was my day to post the prompt may have actually worked against me...active or semi-active thinking can sometimes be a detriment in these situations, and I have everything to say and nothing to work with. What's worse is half the time, when I actually think enough to have a good idea and remember to write it down, I can't even read my own handwriting. Thus, any purpose I would have is rendered mute. Or is it moot? Irregardless (see what I did there? )... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16FLPI5tP4sHumor is important. It's just as important as oxygen, grammar, nutrients, napkins (or serviettes if you're from somewhere other than a napkin-using democracy) and sleep. Humor can tie all different kinds of people together. It speaks many languages, wears many hats (even ones made of fruit), tells many tales, and generally makes the world a better place. And while we may all disagree on what exactly it is we find funny, I'm sure we can agree that when there's no funny in anything, the world becomes a horrible place to think about living in. And that's the point I want to stress about what humor means to me. Life's not all jokes and laughs and ROTFLMAO's. But it's certainly not death, destruction, corruption and hatred either. Humor rides the hazy, if not downright thick, line between both. It's what keeps me grounded in reality, and keeps me from losing my mind half the time (or losing the other half of my mind most of the time; reader's choice). It's so easy to look at so many films, magazines, tv shows, etc., and look at your own life and be miserable. But what helps counter that is being able to look at situations objectively and then poke as many holes as you can in them with sarcasm, wit, and well-timed humor. I enjoy many kinds of humor, which thankfully there are plenty. Genre after sub-genre and so on and so forth. All of which is leading me to... BCF PROMPT: "I wish I could ... (fill in the blank)" Easy. I wish I could develop one classic, timeless style of humor that resonates with every generation, nationality, race, religion, political stance, shoe size, animal, taco stand, body of water, and canned good in the entire universe and beyond. Sadly, it has come to my understanding that this isn't really a possibility. Why? There's just too many people out there. And some of them don't want to be happy. That, and the sheer amount of canned products in one grocery store alone would make that task overwhelming and quite irresponsible, to say a little more than saying the least. Since you can't make everybody happy all of the time, and only some of the people moderately happy some of the time, and piss some people off every now and then, I think I've come up with the most practical and economic solution: make happy as many people who want to be happy as you can, piss off as many people as you can, and let the rest fall wherever they want to fall. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. {link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-o7GB0p2NcA} But where I come from, we have another saying: "One man's ceiling is another man's floor" (Google it and tell me where I got that from...and here's a hint: it's not Paul Simon). I could try to make you angry, and you could find it funny, or vice/versa. It's funny (no pun intended) how that all works. I could put 100 people in a room and say something that 99 of them would find funny in a humorous way yet not laugh, but that one person who doesn't laugh could be so outraged and teeth-grittingly angry that they become louder than the major majority. There's always that one person in every crowd... So instead I keep on wishin'. MUSICAL BREAK!!  Probably not a bad mood to be in today.  VITAL STATS:  I'm not sure there's anything more obnoxious than someone having a ringing telephone on their desk watch someone else run halfway across a room to their own work station, just to answer the phone. Says the guy who's left his own phone shut off and at home for most of the last two days. I must say, I was very pleasantly surprised when I logged my happy ass into WDC today and saw that I won not one, but two merit badges... Food Cooking from Elle - on hiatus  for having "This one's about versatility." featured in her newsletter, "Invalid Item" , and Growth from Emily  and the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" for "This one's about the video." . I'm crazy appreciative, but I have one question (since I haven't really looked at all of the available merit badges on WDC recently)...why is it called "Food Cooking"? Why not just "Cooking"? Is there a "People Cooking" one as well ('cuz I'm not gonna name names, but I can assure you I know someone I could give that to)? Or a "Car Cooking" badge? I'm sorta confused by the specificness. And while we're in the "feel good" section of today's festivities, how about a special shout-out to the winners of May's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" : Elle - on hiatus , Jack-check out 7YS and Prosperous Snow celebrating  ! Congrats on a month well done! Definitely feeling better as far as my cold goes...it's still in my chest. That much I can feel. But the stuffiness and runny nose is almost gone. That's gotta mean I'm getting better, right?Alright, that's all for today. I think I've said plenty without really saying anything at all. I've left myself with just about enough time today to take care of a few more things, and then I'm outta here. Peace, grab a Coke and a smile, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Do you have any friends, family or neighbors that have a dog or cat or any kind of animal that resembles its owner? Describe what it is about the human and animal that share the same characteristics." Good afternoon y'all. Three words for today's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" prompt: null and void.It's simple, really. I have no friends, I have no clue if my remaining family has any pets, and the building I live in doesn't allow animals (besides some of the floating algae that pass through). So no offense to Grace♥Leo health issues , but I have zero frame of reference to address this prompt properly. Not your fault Grace, because how would you know any of that?Ok, the "friends" part isn't entirely true. All my friends live everywhere else but where I live. And I'm not into comparing people to dogs really. I don't think my female friends would appreciate me saying, "Awww, your Pug is soooo cute! He's got your cheeks!", nor would they like to hear how much I think they resemble their hairless Chihuahua. I mean, even I know when not to cross certain lines. But we've all seen those Wilford Brimley- lookin' types of fellas, kicked back on their porch with a cheap can of whatever and a fat ass St. Bernard pantin' away like it's the hardest thing he'll do all day. And you wouldn't be able to tell one from the other after about six or seven cans of whatever's in that miniature barrel around the St. Bernard's neck. Unless the dog started wearing glasses. We had a couple of guys like that when I worked for the pharmacy (I won't mention the name because there's no need to talk bad about the non-existent) in my old neighborhood. About an hour or two after we opened, they'd start showing up for a 12-pack of the cheap stuff. And if you had the fortune of working a full-time shift, you'd see them come in for another 12-pack in the afternoon, looking like they should've just checked into the SPCA instead of AA. That, and occasionally they'd smell like urine, but this area of internetical medicine isn't licensed in this universe to judge incontinence. By law, we could've turned them away for being intoxicated, but since they were always grumpy yet not enough to the length of belligerence (and corporations want that almighty beer-margin profit), we sold it to them anyway. Even if it meant one more 12-pack we'd have to restock at the end of the day. Nobody like to send the strays back out onto the streets empty-handed. I guess that's the best example I can give. I'm sure there's many instances of the animal/owner likeness phenomenon out there; I just don't have any in my personal life and don't feel like trolling Facebook memes to find any. Ohhhhhh.... holdupwaitaminute...there's always room for this comparative nugget when it comes to people looking like animals.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=85LHnH5WftI (and yes, I'm aware it's in a foreign language...I'm sparing you all from the explicit version in English. And besides, when you've seen one, you've seen almost all of them.). BCF PROMPT: "Describe your ideal dress: what clothing/outift do you feel best expresses who you are?" I honestly don't believe there's a right or wrong answer here to this "Blogging Circle of Friends Prompt Forum" query. And it's simple. Dress is 90% mood-driven, and 10% purpose. 80% comfort and 20% style. I could go on and on with percentages, but this is writing and not arithmetic.You look how you feel and you feel how you look. Ideally, I'd like to be comfortable and look decent at the same time. And I'm pretty sure we saw this prompt (or something like it) recently. Yes we did...here: "This one's about labels and f-bombs. Lotsa f-bombs." . I went though a phase where I'd only wear baggy khakis with hockey jerseys. I still rock that look like it was 2001 from time to time. Or the button-down with the sleeves rolled up and some baggy cargos. Chuck Taylors or Adidas shell-toes. Golf hats, MLB hats (New Era official 59Fifty: http://shop.neweracap.com/new-era-59fifty/gender_mens) or beanies. If I have to dress extra nice, I make sure my jacket is dry-cleaned. Fedoras and Kangols. Skinny jeans (when I'm at my ideal weight). I have no problem wearing stripes or patterns. It's safe to assume that at one point (and it may still hold true) I owned more clothes and shoes than one man ever should. But who the hell am I foolin'? I'd rather be naked.  MUSICAL BREAK:  Tough decision today. Do I go with the light alternative rock song by a band with a questionable name, or the censored but still bangin' hip-hop song? Since the actual video doesn't seem to exist on Youtube anymore, there's this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H833o5lnB2E.  So you get this instead...  VITAL STATS:  Even though I'm sitting here with my earbuds in, I'm not listening to anything. That doesn't make me immune to noise though, and some chucklehead for the last hour has been doing something on the other side of the room on his phone...sounds like he's been scrolling through his contacts repeatedly. I'd like to make my fist one of the contacts to his eye socket, but I don't need to catch a case. Actually feeling better today. Still rockin' the sexy stuffed-up nasal passage voice, which, if you didn't know my voice, is at least a 50% improvement over my healthy voice. Word. Halls cough drops have little inspiration messages on their wrappers now. I just got one that says "Flex your 'can do' muscle." Exactly where within the confines of this ravaged temple of a body is that??Ok, on to bigger and better things if I'm gonna be flexin' anything today. Peace, it's what you want baby, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Suppose you are asked to create a new world from the scratch. What things/qualities/knowledge would you like to keep same in the future beings and what will you change?" Hey everyone! Hope it's sunny where you are...my sinuses are driving me nuts and my chest feels like someone sat on me in my sleep, but I'll push through it today. Interesting prompts, for sure. Some cartoon writer once made a superhero guy say, "With great power comes great responsibility." I wish to thank the powers of the powers that be for that quote, and the opportunity to construct this new world. Ha! It's something else I could've done yesterday from scratch. See what I did there? Things/qualities/knowledge. Let's see...first it'd be technology and infrastructure, fo' sho'. But it'd be plentiful, and only with the slightest of oversight. IT department guys would be the new everyman/woman of the world, because there'd be free internet for everyone. Tech companies would be the new farmers, keeping people up to speed with what seems like is now a basic necessity in our modern world. We'd have to be the best, and most self-sufficient, world in the, ummm, world. We'd still need farmers, of course, that grow food. Real food...not the fake crap poisoned with chemicals, pesticides and hormones. Now, the prompt only says I'm creating a new world. That doesn't mean I'd have to be in charge of it. And that's good, because I don't want the above mentioned power and responsibility. But I'd make sure our government was right and just. No scandals, no mistakes to explain away or cover up. Learning by example, we'd right the wrongs of our own predecessors. No need for a civil rights movement, a civil war (or any war), no worries about who you wanna marry. There's only one race in the new world....the HUMAN race. Until we start making awesome robots that are intelligently on par with our society. And then if you wanna marry a robot, well, hey, that's your business. Everyone's equal. Everyone gets the same fair treatment. Pays the same flat tax. Rides the same bus. Enjoys what they earn, provided it's earned the right way. Everyone contributes proportionately. Since we only have knowledge of the old world and we're not inheriting its problems, everything's green and will stay as close to that as possible. We can develop safer fuels and processes that cause the least possible damage to the environment. This includes how we use coal, gas, and recyclable materials. I guess all I'm really saying is that getting to create a new world is a chance to undo everything that's not gone to plan the way we'd hoped 2013 would look like 50, 100, or even 1000 years ago. It's evolution baby...without the mess. BCF PROMPT: "What do you suppose you might be doing at this exact moment if the internet had never been invented?" Do you even know what you're saying?! Huh. I imagine the world might look similar to 1980, or thereabouts. Only I wouldn't be five years old. I'm trying to picture a grown-up me back then. Which is hard, because computers were put into our school roughly 30 years ago. Sure, they were different, but by the time I was done with school a lot of teachers demanded that homework essays be typed. And I was one of the only kids still using a typewriter.Think about how everything's changed since the advent of the internet era. How much more things have changed in the last 10-20 years, versus the way things changed between 1960 and 1980. All of the different shifts in industries. Everything we do now has a card and a bar code on it...linked to something, and that's transmitted via the interwebs. Banking, grocery shopping, even taking out books at the library. I remember my first library card...it looked like something I could have made at home with a typewriter, a manila envelope and a pair of scissors. Now it's another key fob on a ring full of key fobs. More fobs than keys these days, it seems. But what would I be doing? I'd probably be more active (assuming I didn't break my ankle involving the most primitive of essentials, a fire). I'd likely be more outgoing...or would I? Really hard to call that one...would I just make the same social faux pas I make online in person? Maybe. There'd probably also be more emphasis on television, so I'd probably split my time between that and reading. Maybe the steel mills in Buffalo would still be in operation, and I would've followed my dad and grandfather at Republic Steel. There's a lot of maybes, but I don't wanna consider them. It doesn't seem plausible. That's like saying, "What if the world hasn't changed since 19xx?" All of mankind would be vastly different than we know of it today...only it'd be the same as it always was. We'd just be looking at through a little older set of eyes. MUSICAL BREAK!!  A fitting way to tie in both prompts today. It's easy to forget that this song is 15 years old.  VITAL STATS:  Back to the "orange juice and menthol cough drops" diet for this kid. At least I have an appetite and can keep food down. There's nothing worse than having a cold in the spring/near-summertime time. I'm just glad it's not the flu like last year. I don't have much more to add besides that today. Gonna blow my nose and loiter around as long as I can before knocking myself out when I get home. Peace, it's all across this nation, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "The old skills of making food from scratch, like jam, pasta, butter, cheese, etc, are being lost. Talk about a time when you've made something from scratch." 'Sup people? Now that I've sufficiently untied my shorts from yesterday's fiasco of entry drama, we're back to regular old prompts made out of the language we speak. One final nail in the coffin of it and I'll never speak of it again...I don't care one way or the other if the prompt is word- or image-based. As long as we're all respectful and understand something...even if you don't write every day, or every six days, or every other day, or twice a year, you're going to see a prompt you don't like. It happens. Between two blogs I've written probably near 700 entries. It's always hilarious in some way when I don't like the prompt...and more often then not, those are the days that usually start off with me wanting to write more than other days (some days you have it, and some you don't) and looking forward to something that I can make good use out of. That's a part of life. We want cheeseburgers that taste great and don't make us fat. We want more currency in our pockets. But I don't care so much about the grass being greener as long as you keep your dog off my lawn, ya know? That's just the way I look at things. That's why we do this however and whichever way we do it. That's it. Sneak preview of this month's edition of the Blogging Bliss newsletter (less than two weeks away): There are millions of bloggers out there, which means there are millions of ways to define it (and don't go running to https://www.dictionary.com to shove your definition up my cornhole). That's enough about that.  Today's prompt comes courtesy of Elle - on hiatus , who, by the way, I want to thank for the awesome newsletter put together by her and Dodgy Steve . It's a fun little read, and features some of the talented (and hungry) folks in WDC's hugely populous Blogville. It was a pleasant surprise to open my mailbox and see my name on "Invalid Item" . Check it out, if only for the recipe for making brownies in a coffee mug.Now, because of leaving Buffalo, I haven't done much cooking lately. I know, it's bad for me and unhealthy and blah blah blah. But that's not the point. The point is, when was the last time I made something from scratch? The easy answer is "I dunno" with a shrug. But since this space isn't about easy answers, ya gotta gimme a minute and think. Enchiladas? Nope. Even though I cooked the meat, I used a taco seasoning packet as part of the chicken mixture (and my ex hand-shredded the chicken, so all I had to do was mix it and top it and make sure they didn't burn). Ugh. Memories. I made my ex homemade truffles for Valentine's Day a few years back. Luckily I had the day off from work so I could make and chill the filling, shop for a gift, come home and finish the coating. Making them is easy...I took recipes from the newspaper's weekly food section. Yes, recipes...I made two different kinds: chocolate-covered peanut butter, and a cookies n' cream one (white chocolate mixed with bits of Oreos, covered in crushed Oreos). They actually turned out halfway decent. Bought her a heart-shaped box, lined it and filled it. Best. Boyfriend. Ever. I wish I still had the recipes (I'm sure they're online in many variations). And the girl. But as far as making things from scratch? I can't think of anything I've ever made that didn't require some store-bought help. The first time I tried making chili and spaghetti sauce from a recipe, I bombed. I tried making my dad's sauce, and asked him for the recipe...he looked at me like I was actually speaking Italian. Pop Diesel was like, "I dunno, I just kinda mix some of this and some of that, and let it simmer awhile." Gee, thanks. Another frickin' life lesson there.  I will say this though...even though it's not totally from scratch, there's a lot of satisfaction that goes into being able to eat something you didn't completely have to unpack and shove in a microwave for two minutes, making sure to let it sit another minute. When you have a purpose in the kitchen, you tend have more purpose in life. That's not meant to be sexist in any way...when you can provide someone (even if it's just yourself) a good meal, it's one of those nice feelings. (Oooops...I said "feelings". Didn't mean to get emotional. )BCF PROMPT: "Who is your hero?" Huh. Tough question there, no joke. I don't have any of the easy, typical, go-to heroes a lot of the population has. I don't have much family, and if surviving's the best thing any of us has done, then we're doin' ok. I'm not religious, and I don't believe in saying actors, musicians or athletes are "heroic". It makes me uneasy when I read an article that says someone has given a "heroic performance" during a game or a movie. Bullshit. You make bazillions of dollars sneezing and hitting curveballs. Sure, I don't look like <insert stupid favorite actor/actress here> or stick myself with needles fall apart in the playoffs get overpaid to suck like <insert your favorite New York Yankee here>, but I'm also not worth stupid amounts of money (and if I am, it'd be great if someone told me). I guess I do have a stock answer for this question though. You do hear it said that many service professionals...doctors, nurses, servicemen/women, firemen and policemen, people who do those jobs. Those people are heroes. That's a statement I can certainly get behind. There are times they're placed in positions where lives are at stake, and just gettin' a paycheck isn't the reward at the end of the day. We often gripe about the things that hate us. How doctors want us to lose weight and quit smoking, or how the cops gave us a hard time for walking through a parking lot at night. But have you ever heard anyone complain about fire fighters? "Effin' hosers got water everywhere! This carpet is soaked. We're gonna need a new rug. And a roof. And maybe some walls too. Geez!" Nope. Nobody says that. See? That's the breakdown of heroes in the nation, by the level we complain about them. Soldiers deserve our respect too, and you can't say anything bad about what they do...other than they chose their path (and don't try to trick me into believing that "the path chose them"); so did the people in medical school and art school. Soldiers and fire fighters, #1 and #1A. Everybody else gives you reason to occasionally hit 'em with the giant middle finger in your head. MUSICAL BREAK!! I almost caved in and took the easy way out, using the first song available when you type "David Bowie heroes" into the YouTube search engine. But then I saw this band in my subscription list, and I'm pretty sure when I started this blog, I checked the box that said "I vow to use this video every chance I get". So I am.  VITAL STATS:  Ok, make this the second "last thing" I'll say about yesterday's entry. It kinda felt weird not copy/pasting an image. I thought that would shave a little time off the duration it takes me to get an entry out. Nope. This has taken me forever for some reason today. Since it's kinda pointless (and stupid) yelling at someone else's kids, I'm gonna start cussin' out parents. It's a library, not a playground. We don't let our children run around a library, playing "hide and seek". Besides, the floor plan in this building makes it a really dumb idea to try that anyway. Started using the iHeartRadio app yesterday (although I only listened to the Atmosphere channel, which plays a lot more than Atmosphere). I'm kinda crushin' on it a little bit. The sound quality is better than Apple's iTunes (and I suppose I should've known that). I suppose I should know that I also need some kind of internet connection to make it work, and that it stops working when your connection drops. But did it really take me 10 minutes to realize the connection dropped between two songs?? Hey, where's the next song? What happened?? Your Wi-Fi dropped, you ass. Seriously, there's gotta be a name for when something like that happens. Get on that, yo.Ok, I'm gonna hope it stopped rainin', grab me a bite to eat and maybe a movie, and peace myself on outta here. Feels like I've been here forever even though I got a late start on the day. Peace, we don't need no water, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: ** Image ID #1937799 Unavailable ** Well folks, it's Monday. I can say at least that much about today. Without reading, and only taking a fast glance at the prompt image in Windows 8's little preview screen, it looks like a bell. I see it. But, upon closer inspection, it requires you to read words. It's not a bell, but two cliffs. It's meant to inspire you to take a chance. That's assuming, of course, you actually make it across the divide. I understand there's the need and reason for hope and faith. Unfortunately, they don't always come in a limitless supply (and let's not get all religicallicious, please). You have to temper expectations with reality. And sometimes, the reality is you're not going to make it to the other side. You might end up in the cavern below. You could take the longest running start possible, knowing full well you're guaranteed to make it, and trip on a stone at the last, worst possible point and never make it. Maybe it's the negative approach. But I have to see things from all sides and possible angles before I commit to something. I have to know what I'll do if it's the right choice, and what to do if it's not. To quote a line from a Get Up Kids song, "Blind faith doesn't make a sale". Even if failure isn't one of your options, it still can be chosen for you. Sometimes, even the best-laid plans fail. And now that I've ruined your Monday a little more, let's take everything else down today. BCF PROMPT: "What would you like to be different about BCOF, if anything? If you don't want anything to be different, what's your favorite part?" ** Image ID #1937689 Unavailable ** Well, the image is of an animal. Something with antlers. A deer, or maybe a moose or elk (and the more animals I name, the more likely I am to be correct ). Or someone with a broken camera. Or a camera made out of a coffee can...I think we made one in like, 8th grade. But I digress.Really, what it boils down to is choices. And what I'm seeing is the opposite of inspiration. Let's face it. We're not always going to agree on everything or get along. Even though we're in a group meant to build and strengthen friendships (it is, after all, the "Blogging Circle of Friends " ), you're never gonna see a month where so many people of varying ages and backgrounds agree on something. That's part of why we have our own blogs, and choose whether or not to comment on other blogs...and that's why we don't write other people's blogs for them. We all have our own ideas and perceptions. We like what we like, and have the option to ignore what we don't like. It's that simple.People are complaining so much about the image prompts. I don't get it. It's a picture. You're writers. Be creative, say a few words about it, and move on with your day. We're at the point that we need a survey for this? Do you want to shove a few gift points at someone and have them take it for you too? Because basically, that's what you're asking for when you sign up and join a group that emails you a prompt to write about on a daily basis. Nobody's forcing you. There's no pressure. But-  ! Now they've taken all the words out of the prompts! Oh no! This can't happen! Now I have to think.If that's too much, then maybe you're doing it all wrong. Go join a group that writes a blog for you and has 65 members that write the same 1,000 words every damn day. And tell me everyone's satisfied with that. If this comes out sounding mean or childish, well, I'm ok with that. I'm not in the business of targeting anyone. I come in with my lunch bucket and hard hat, read my prompts, bang out an entry, read what others have to say about topics that may or may not interest me, and go about my day. We're all different people and we're here for different reasons under a common umbrella. You wanna get out of the rain? Go under the umbrella or get inside. Nobody's gonna mind one way or the other, as long as you're safe and dry. /End of that rant. It's not my forum or place to say anything. That's what I have this chunk of wild internet awesomesauce, flavored like my blog, for. I can make suggestions like the day is long, but in the end I can only control so much. I've tried to be a contributing member to the BCF for awhile, and found it mostly to be a pleasant experience. I don't have any complaints with the forum, the layout, anything like that. If I don't like or agree with a prompt, I say so. If I have something to share via the comment drop-off, I do so. And if I have nothing to add, I...uhhhh, add nothing. I'm here because this is supposed to be a community. And like any community, there are going to be people who don't like the way things are done. I say you can either enact change by doing something about whatever the situation is, or adapt. That's what governments do; that's what societies do. That's what man did over the course of centuries (and don't get me started on "evolution"...that's an entry for another debate). The point is to stay positive when there's change. I don't like change, and a lot of people don't. But one of the joys I've discovered as I matured over the course of my life is when you get better at picking your battles, the outcome is greatly improved. Whew. I'm done ranting for the day. It's someone else's turn. MUSICAL BREAK!!  Here's the song I referenced earlier. The Get Up Kids, "Holy Roman". VITAL STATS:  Ok, maybe I do have one suggestion of the BCF: When you send out the day's prompt, include the unscrambled image of the previous day's prompt, or at least tell us what it was. There's a lack of consistency there, and I think one thing everyone can agree on is if there's consistency, the process works a little better. There's at least a little trust. And maybe, have all the bugs ironed out beforehand. I know sometimes mistakes can only be detected and fixed once they happen, but the organization of the "image prompts" could've been better. I think I left those points off my survey. Oh, and make sure the images are shareable!!Well, that took a lot outta me today. But I feel a little better having gotten all of that off my chest. Time for me to catch up and see what I've missed on Sunday. Peace, breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "You are a fashion police officer for a day, what type of violations will you go after and arrest?" BAHAHAHAHA!! What's up yo? Crazy prompt today in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . I'm not a "fashion police officer". I am, in fact, probably the best and worst offender of fashion. I really never played into trends. I just bought what I liked when out shopping for clothes. And I know what I like. If others like it, fine. If they don't, well, that's cool too. But here's the problem...we're limited in being able to buy only what stores sell. And stores stock up on what they think is going to be the "hot" item of the season. And if it's ugly, but all the superstars of the world start wearing it, all the wanna-be popular people are gonna start wearing it too. Which it why it feels like the late 1980's all over again when I watch the few minutes of tv that I do in a given week. Not a fashion period I wish to relive. Take my outfit today for example. I'm a fashion nightmare. Light khaki Nike golf hat with a navy stripe that I've had for probably 15 years. Dark teal/light blue (I have no idea, and apparently neither does Writing ML's colors...it's a little darker than this color) t-shirt under a white American Eagle button-down (sleeves rolled up) with thin pink stripes and thinner blue stripes. Khaki cargo shorts from Izod. White shell-toe Adidas with black stripes and laces, and no socks (showing off my scars validates my limp). The pages of GQ magazine, soon I will not be gracing. And that's all quite fine with me. I don't judge you, you don't judge me. I tend to stick to neutral shades and fits that will look good in any era. If you wanna wear the latest ugly things, that's your choice. I prefer Burger King over McDonalds, rap over country and wheat toast instead of rye; you might be the opposite. Sure, ok, you got me...if you look really bad or tasteless, I'mma judge you. Unfortunately, most don't leave the house going, "I look like a fashionista-y train wreck tonight! Let's go to the bistro and do shots and who cares where my clothes end up!" And the few that do, well, they deserve whatever happens to them after a couple too many drinks on a Tuesday afternoon. One last point...screw the mall. I'm all growed-up and a little over myself now and the ego I had in my twenties. Like I said, I don't give a damn what I wear as long as I like it and it fits me and my personality. And I don't care what the label says or how I obtain it. I have no problem shopping off the Salvation Army or Amvets' racks. High-end names for super-cheap prices? Who cares? Who's gonna know the difference? You might, but if you really cared, you'd keep the price tags on your clothes so we could mock your stupid ass for spending $88 on a t-shirt. Because people do that. And I'm happy I'm not one of them. BCF PROMPT: First, the image portion: ** Image ID #1937400 Unavailable ** This is easy. Of course, y'all know when I say something is easy, I'm quite often wrong. That's a game I know I can win, the business of being incorrect. It looks like the logo off a bottle of Diet Pepsi. How would I know this? I dunno. I have the image of a slovenly-dressed non-thin/non-fat guy to uphold. Now, for the hard part: "Cussing. What's your take on it?" Damn. I get the feeling I'm going to be the outspoken one around here regarding this. But there's a method to my mouthiness. I may not have been raised with a filthy yapper, but I have one, and I make no apologies for it. Whether it was the music I listened to, the people I was around, or any percentage combination of both, I swear. A lot. The f-word rolls out as naturally as any other word will. And when I find myself in company where I have to watch what I say, I tend not to be as trusting. Of them, or my mouth. I wind up being quieter in general (which I'm sure some wouldn't mind anyway). Basically, I don't like to conform. People make too much of a big deal about things, and they're way too sensitive (and I'll be the first to tell you that I'm too sensitive sometimes). Cussing is a part of reality, much the same many other things in this world that we can't control are. Violence still exists. Swearing will exist. People wearing sweatpants in public when they have no business doing so will always exist. These things will happen. And just as they have a right to occur (in some cases), you have a right not to participate. I believe that when used appropriately, cussing can add a certain element to a conversation. Maybe for it's shock power, I don't know. I'm not a linguist and I'm not gonna waste a Saturday afternoon looking up reasons to validate my point. But it's simple. Saying "fuck" just to say "fuck" probably isn't necessary. In fact, it's probably a little distasteful and makes you sound like you don't know a better word. But there are times when all you can do is just drop it, because you know it's gonna explode and the impact is that of which can only be felt by the proper usage of the word. More plainly said, there's a time and a place for it. And some of us have bigger spots and better watches. That is all, thanks and you're welcome. And trust me, this entry has barely put my "18+ rating" to the test. MUSICAL BREAK!!  There's no way the entire point of this entry could be complete without this anti-label, anti-corporation blast. VITAL STATS: It's Saturday! It's like the official "day off from blogging". Call your blog into work sick. Be way more busier than you ever are. Get some sunshine. Read a book. Have a life. I should take my own advice.And that's what I'm gonna do...cruise the WDC forums for a minute or two and do nothing the rest of today and tomorrow. Sounds like a plan. Peace, it's my house, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "For 'Funny Friday', tell us a funny or heart-warming story that came out of inclement weather." Hey y'all. First I gotta say thanks to WyrdNaos Trippin' on Yello  for helping me get you today's prompt in a timely fashion. Give Dani a hand for all the hard work going on around here in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" !  Now, second, really, my dislike of coming up with prompts is somewhat legendary, and runs a close second to my complaining regarding prompts I don't like. Hell, most of the time I don't even like the prompts I come up with. I'm probably found sitting out on days when I have to come up with one, and at roughly a 90% clip. But today, why not? I'll jump in. It was probably six or seven, maybe even eight years ago now. I was still living at 542, dating the only ex I will ever refer to as being "the crazy ex" (because she was legitimately bat-shit crazy). But that's for another chapter in my life to get into. Her, myself, my sis and my brothaman DMFM were chillin', havin' a few beers and just hangin' out. It was summer, and it was hot...damn hot, and humid. Temps ran around the mid-90's for over a week, and normally when it's so humid, it rains. Suddenly, after the rain, everything feels about 20% cooler in Buffalo...at least for a few minutes. But it hadn't rained. I think they were officially calling it a "drought", which is damn near unheard of in an area known for its snowfall. By then, I'd learned how to manage the heat inside 542. I knew where to place the fans, and the best times to keep the front and back windows open to circulate the cooler night air better...the sun rises in the front of the house and sets in the back. I'm no meteorologist, but I got the windows to work in my favor so we could at least be comfortable. Even still, when it's so hot at night and you've got four people in a room who are of varying shapes and sizes, with different levels of heat tolerance, entertainment is secondary to comfort. But we got lucky. As we were sitting around and conversation stalled, we noticed a familiar rattle along the side of the house. A rainstorm! And I don't even think the weathermen were calling for rain (man, I want a job where I can be wrong half the time and still be beloved by the community!). We just kinda erupted from the dining room table chairs we were sitting in, and bolted outside. And what a storm it was! It was raining hard enough that it seemed like the rain was bouncing back up off the sidewalks. Everything was a giant puddle. We ran up to the front of the house, and we, for lack of a better term, played. We danced and jumped and splashed; it was like we'd never seen rain before. We were out there quite awhile, frolicking like mad little kids. We were beyond soaked, from head to toe. I was just happy I lived there and didn't have far to go once we got back inside. I got everyone towels and cobbled together a few changes of clothes...my sis didn't have far to go, but DMFM did, and he's a lot taller than I am, so I had to work to find something he'd be comfortable in. The crazy ex was fine; she had clothes she'd left at my house. It was hard finding stuff for my sis though. Like I said, we all came in different shapes and sizes. But we had an absolute blast, playing in the rain like kids. I still have a picture somewhere of my and the crazy ex...of all the pictures of us together, it was my favorite. We look like we just came out of the rain...you can see the love in our eyes and almost feel the fun we had by looking at our soaked hair. And for someone like me who can't stand talking about or dealing with weather, it was a beautiful night. BCF PROMPT: The image: ** Image ID #1937164 Unavailable ** And: For which famous personality (president, celebrity, famous writer, etc.) would you cook/buy dinner for? Hmmm. First, the image. It's a car. Or some kind of vehicle. I'm goin' with sports car. Spun in a circle. All that's missing is the tree or road sign it should be wrapped around. But dinner...ok, I know this much. I'll cook rather than go out. I prefer private settings, and if I'm with somebody famous, I'd rather not be and I'm sure they'd appreciate not getting mobbed or otherwise disrupted. We'd probably agree beforehand on a meal, they'd offer to help, and I'd politely decline. I find I'm a much better chef when doing most of the work myself. Now, who would be so special that I would actually offer to make them meal? Men are out. It'd have to be a woman. If only for the sake that maybe after dinner I could ply the romanticism of myself against her. Sorry fellas. But it wouldn't be someone super-famous or popular. No politicians; no need to wind contesting viewpoints over a nice meal. And since the ideal woman hasn't found me yet, nor would she probably find me as interesting as I find myself to be occasionally, I'm going with a fictional character. Lindsay Bluth. She's the sister on Arrested Development. Sure, she's kinda not bright, and she's married, and has a kid, but she's also beautiful. Very beautiful. And I don't have to worry that in real life, she's the lesbian partner of Ellen DeGeneres...I'm cooking for a made-up person! I don't even have to worry about feelings! Or worrying that she won't like me enough to serve me dessert. Wow. I really need to get a life. MUSICAL BREAK!!  It's been a rainy couple of days...and this might be the worst video I've ever seen, or at least the worst video to a beautiful song. Nobody needs some tool on a motorcycle lip-syncing another dude's song. It's just awful, but it's better I suppose than staring at the album cover for three minutes. VITAL STATS:  PT sucked...what else is new? No more progress there.I really have nothin' else to add...it's been a quiet few days. Hope the weekend is better. Peace, you gotta stew goin', and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Both National Geographic and USA Today have recently run articles regarding the "de-extinction" of lost animal species. Do you think that extinct species of animals should be brought back, and why (or why not)? (For example: dodo birds, woolly mammoths, dinosaurs, etc.)" What's up y'all? Looks like you get two days' worth of prompts in a row from me...I submitted this one at the start of the month (sorry!) and I'll have tomorrow's "Funny Friday" prompt as well. Let the backlash begin!! The reason I came up with this prompt is because I saw an article in USA Today about it: http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/05/31/de-extinctioning-passenger-..., and while looking for that article online, I found this one: http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2013/04/125-species-revival/zimmer-text. They both made me wonder, and so I thought I'd throw it out there in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" .Basically, the USA Today article says dinosaurs aren't coming back, but that it might be possible to bring back other extinct species. I think that'd be kinda cool, but I also have fantastical ideas that never seem to pan out, so who am I to say anything? However, since I'm the jockey of this keyboard, I'll find something to say. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Mi5Wh8zGHU How damn cool would it be to have a pet woolly mammoth? Finally, a pet big enough to ride! Of course, this is assuming science has also figured out how to domesticate them as well. Ten bucks says they get that all situated before they cure cancer. Cancer itself is a huge profit-maker for drug companies, so there's no reason to cure it; the woolly mammoth market is untapped and science is leaving money on the table until they get one in everybody's backyard safely. Who needs electric cars or oil and gasoline? You wanna really go green? You wanna totally eliminate your carbon footprint? People, you ride a woolly mammoth to work. Strap on a saddlebag or something like that and go grocery shopping. Hell, you can even train it to pull a cart of your buddies around on a night of drunken debauchery, with no worry of a DWI! The mammoth is your designated driver! Maybe we'll even put taxi cabs out of business...but no worries about job losses. Someone's gotta care and feed and clean and train the fleet of mammoths. Hear that? That's the sound of the economy already getting better at the thought of the woolly mammoth turning back the country's clock and becoming the greatest invention of the 21st century. Get on board, y'all! Let's go forward with the past! [Ed. note: No animals were harmed in this part of the entry.] BCF PROMPT: The image: ** Image ID #1937027 Unavailable ** And: "What emotion is the most overwhelming when you experience it?" Interesting image. Looks like a small child. Maybe too old to be a baby, but a small toddler. Walking age, let's say...walking up to one of those sliding glass shower doors. Which makes me wonder: who gets the idea for a picture like that? Standing in a shower with a camera or a phone? I mean, it's creative, but the idea of it all is just a little weird. Like I'm one to say anything. But emotions are a different game altogether. And there's so many to choose from! I'm just going to go with the big umbrella statement and say "pain". First though, a disclaimer: I rarely show any emotion, regardless of the situation. Everything stays inside. Healthy? No. But it does have its benefits. You can look at me and think nothing's wrong, but inside it's the zombie apocalypse versus the Power Rangers versus the Justice League Of America versus a tag team match of God and the devil against a woman in the midst of giving birth and psychotic ex-girlfriend bent on retribution. That's the best way I can describe it. That's pain. That's depression. You don't see it, but it takes its toll. Something like one in four people have some kind of mental illness, and that's what depression is classified as. And I hate talking about it, because nobody likes to talk about it. But I am. And it's not something to be taken lightly or easily brushed aside. There really isn't a cure either. Late-night tv host David Letterman once said, "I thought I could just do some jumping jacks and I'd be fine, but I wasn't...I was depressed." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dt95c073me0 Hell, I even had (what I thought were) friends that just magically thought that because they had dogs and they were sooooooo cuuuuute that there was no reason to be depressed. Yeah, sorry, that's not the answer. Pain manifests itself in many different ways. Physical pain can heal (I keep telling myself that...but it's not helping my ankle). Emotional pain is entirely different. It can take months, even years. You can think it's gone, and years later you can be prompted by anything to flash back a tiny memory that makes you hurt all over again. And that's all I'm gonna say about it, because now I feel like Captain Bum-out. It's weird how pain and sadness work. MUSICAL BREAK!!  Ironically, I came across this song earlier today on Facebook. Oddly fitting. VITAL STATS: Boring, rainy day. Nothing going on but me getting worked up about having to go to physical therapy tomorrow. And the anxiety attack about that should kick in any time now.So with that I'm gonna get outta here, try and get in a walk around the block if I can stand it (no pun intended), and call it at day. Peace, spay and neuter your mammoths, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What was the biggest temptation you faced as a teenager, and did you act on it?" Good afternoon, friends. It's beautiful out, but don't tell my body that because it doesn't feel like cooperating with me today. I don't handle being out in the sun well that much anymore, and I hate being stuck inside. So let's put on our cranky-pants and pretend that it's raining. Do it just to make me feel better. Man, alright...temptation. I'll say it even though I'm sure a lot of you are echoing the same sentiments. There are far more worse things that kids could be doing than when I was young. The dangers lurking on the internet alone are scary enough. There's a lot of different drugs out there...back in the day (not that I have any particular day marked on my calendar or anything) you had three choices: pot, acid and cocaine. I didn't know where to get any of this, and wasn't even aware anything else existed maybe beyond that. I was naïve in that respect I suppose. But outside of that, there's more people on the planet now, which means more businesses, which in turn leads to more things, and more things equal more things going haywire. Follow me? Now, let's not get all crazy here, because I was a good kid for the most part (and don't ask me where I went wrong). Temptations, like I said, were different. The temptation to break curfew was something I always flirted with. Temptation to speak my mind even if it wasn't the prevailing opinion was another. And let's not forget the temptation to puts my hands on members of the opposite sex where they may not have belonged. The biggest temptation? Now you've got me wondering just how lame the early nineties were. Or how lame I was, at least. Senior year of high school, not going to class was a pretty big temptation for me. And I often gave in to it. How could I not? After I dropped my first period AP Spanish class (please, it was boring as hell, I'd already taken Spanish from grades 7-11 and retained almost none of it, and we were expected to pay a pretty decent sum of money toward the college credit...that equaled a big fat "no thank you" in my Trapper Keeper), my schedule looked like this: 1st: Study Hall Homeroom 2nd: Economics/Government 3rd: Study Hall 4th: Photography 5th: Library Practice 6th: AP English Lunch 7th: Gym every other day (alternating with a Study Hall) 8th: AP Calculus It was very hard to look at that schedule and take it seriously. Were it not for Economics and Government, I really didn't have to shop up at all until English class. My Photography class was with one of my wrestling coaches...he asked me what I thought my grade should be, so I said, "Something in the 90's?" And was like, "Ok, 99!" I had all my work done...well, ok, I was suffering from my second broken shoulder and couldn't really carry a camera, so I "borrowed" one of my friend's works. Library Practice was just that...working in the school's library, which wasn't that big. We did some shelving, but the main job was monitoring the kids with passes from their Study Halls. Really though, the first one in our group that arrived would photocopy the crossword puzzle in the newspaper, and we'd all race to see who could get it done first. That was when I hung out with the "smart kids". English and Calculus were the only real classes (I hated Government/Economics)...and English came super easy to me, but Calculus was, ummm, let's just say that it was a "group effort" from the entire class in getting the homework done, if ya know what I'm sayin'. So what would we do if we didn't want to go to class? There were tons of restaurants right in the vicinity of the school, so we'd shoot out the side door. Of course, we never went to the places directly across from the school, 'cuz that's where all the administrators went. We'd go to a neat little place called Holiday Showcase. It was like a giant diner, and it was built next to The Holiday Showcase theaters (neat concept  ). They had great food, and the waitresses didn't seem to care that we were cutting school as long as we behaved. And we did. Even if we were the "not as smart kids".It's what we would do on the way back to school that, to this day, I still can't believed we pulled off. There were eight of us that day, large for our normal group. We were wrapping things up and I had a brilliant idea. I'd asked if anyone had a football in their car. Nobody did, but one of the guys knew where he could get one fast. Sure enough, ten minutes later we were having a 4-on-4 game of touch football in the theater parking lot, a stone's throw from the school. Typically, a trip to breakfast would take up first period, and we could sneak in before Homeroom (not all teachers cared about whether or not you were present for their Study Hall). This way, as long as you were in by Homeroom, you wouldn't be marked late. I forget what the exact threshold was, but if you were late too many times you got detention. Sure, that caught up with me. Big deal. It was an hour of more crossword puzzles for me. Anyway, we totally didn't get back to class until the middle of fourth period. We were all a mess...hot, gross, sweaty boys who had just been running around a parking lot. But it was totally worth it. BCF PROMPT: ** Image ID #1936853 Unavailable ** So for the "Blogging Circle of Friends Prompt Forum" we're supposed to write about the image we see. Thankfully, this image is shareable so you can all see what I'm talkin' 'bout. The problem is, I don't know who the dog is. Assuming, of course, that it's a dog. And I'm guessing it's Shaye 's dog. The clue we were given was "Only people that read my blog will know this." I'm gonna come right out and admit it: I've read Carmela's blog a few times, but not all of the entries. I feel bad saying that because I'd like to think I do actually make my way through a lot of blogs whenever I get that chance, but I have no idea whose dog that is or what the name of said dog is. So I am sorry for that, but I'll try harder next time. MUSICAL BREAK!!  I went through a long period of time when almost all I would listen to were a mix of 4-5 different cd's on random in my stereo. I think it was to get over a girl, and I grieved through those particular albums. This was definitely one of them.  VITAL STATS:  Here's a fun fact about the first time I ever skipped school to go out for breakfast: I got caught. By my mom. We were trying to cross the street to get back to the school at the same time she was on her way to work. Wow, was she pissed. I don't think my physical therapist likes me, and that has nothing to do with how I feel at the end of a session with her. She's nice, but not friendly. There's a difference. I'm usually pretty good at reading these things. Of course, I'm probably not always in an approachable mood, but c'mon man! You're getting paid to be here, and to help me heal! At least pretend to like me! Fake it if it's really that difficult.  I've reached the point where I really wish I didn't dream anymore. I won't go into detail because the content isn't very relevant, but for the second time in a week I woke myself up by punching a wall. Look at that sentence. It doesn't say, "I woke up and then punched a wall. Nope. Stone col' middle of the dream, yo. Punching a wall. Twice now, in a week. I have pretty much resigned to the idea that I'll probably never be able to sleep next to anyone ever again. And yet, somehow I think I should feel more troubled about this than I do. On many, many levels.Anyway, I'm gonna take my ass outta here and see what everyone else is up to. Y'all be good...peace, pretend like you're walking in place on this treadmill, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What tests your patience the most?" What's happenin'? I thought I'd take a break from taking a break and see what's going on 'round here, since I've got nothing else going on right now. And this is the prompt I get... I could probably write a book about things/places/people that test my patience. I've probably made that abundantly clear at one point or another. I suppose that has a lot to do with having no patience to begin with. I think I was born with a defunct patience gland or something. It's true. But it's probably more a function of an ever-evolving society as well. I've spoken before about how much of an instant gratification, drive-thru nation we've become. We want it, and we want it yesterday. We want things before we even know we want them. And we're just not content until we've gotten them, abused them, and turned our attention to something else we probably don't need. But what really tests me? I mean, puts me through the wringer of sorts, and challenges me? What makes me feel like I have to fight to overcome it? My lack of patience. I think we all have an internal clock set on expectations. We expect to wait in line a certain amount of time. We expect how events should go down and how reactions should be. We have expectations. Everyone's guilty...and some are more reasonable than others. Of course, I don't ever think I'm being unreasonable, but when it's become commonplace to have little expectations anyway, the disappointment is negligible. However, if I'm stuck behind you in line and you are acting in a matter that I deem "unreasonable", I will mock you 36 different ways in my head until you GTFO of my way. If late-night talk show hosts were to read an article about how you held up the line in the donut shop because you wanted the sprinkles on your iced jelly heart attack alphabetized, you deserve the field day they should be having at your expense. And my favorite...if you're too lazy to read the aisle markers when you walk into a store, you deserve it when I throw K-Y lube, enemas and a package of cable ties in your shopping cart while you're otherwise not paying attention to anything, including where you're going while asking for directions to the sale item with the big signs on it that you've already passed three times. Come to think of it, I rather like not having the patience for people sometimes. Hell, I need something to keep me entertained. BCF PROMPT: "What do you see in this image?" ** Image ID #1936469 Unavailable ** Huh?? My biggest question is, "How does one participate in a 'describe the image' writing competition, when only the people in the contest group are privy to the information?" Why are we supposed to write about a picture when nobody else can see it? I get it, that it's supposed to be about writing and all, but I'm not going to change what I do in this space to accommodate something I'm not sure others would understand. Even if I barely make sense to myself at times. Wow . Anyway, I'm glad this isn't the security question you would have to answer to get access to my bank account. Not that you'd stand to gain much anyway, but you know what I mean. Like the "type the word in the box below so we know you're not just hacking into our system" quiz.Now, I could be way off on this (and usually when I start trash talking, I've totally missed the mark). Obviously, it's some furry little creature or rodent. Maybe a cat. Wrapped in a blanket...of odor. What else has cartoonish-looking eyes and wavers in its disfigurement like a bent image of a highway sweltering in 95-degree heat? Because this is what I really see: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ee3ezPgbm2c MUSICAL BREAK!!  And then there's this, which is what I see when looking at the first prompt.  VITAL STATS:  It's become far too easy for me to get a piece of pizza in this town. I shouldn't be complaining, and it could be even easier, but I need to cut back a little. On a serious note, sometimes our heroes are human too. I was very saddened upon hearing about this the other day. The c-word (you know, the other "c-word") has always scared the hell outta me. Not only is he a legend, but a great guy as well. Best wishes, Jim. http://espn.go.com/nfl/story/_/id/9336790/ex-buffalo-bills-qb-jim-kelly-battling...And that's all I've got for the last couple of days. Just relaxing as much as I can...tomorrow's a long day and it's hot out, so I'm going to need it. Hope you've all been well...peace, where else would you rather be, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "My neighbor has a bumper sticker that reads: 'Remember Who You Wanted To Be'. On the first day, (today) write about how you saw your life turning out from the perspective of your younger self. Where were you going to live? What job were you going to have? Etc. On the second day, (tomorrow) write about how your life actually ended up turning out from the perspective of your older self. (Feel free to project into the future.) Did you grow up to be who you always wanted to be as a child?" 'Sup y'all? I'm cheating. I'm posting song lyrics and a video that aren't mine using a song that I like to illustrate today's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" prompt as well as the "Blogging Circle of Friends " ' prompt as well.BCF PROMPT: "List all of the things you wanted to be when you grew up." I can name that tune in one note, folks. To All My Friends Yeah, I saw the sign in the window, for the job Yeah I got a high school education, but that's all Skills? You wanna know if I got some skills? Yeah I got some skills This goes out to all my friends What you gonna be when you grown up? I'm all grown up and still don't know what I mop throw up, I rock a tow-truck Long as it means that I can get old and post up I used to be a typical winner Living off the gratuity from delivering your dinner Cause as a kid, I didn't consider that I would get the opportunity to be a full-time spitter I love this occupation I got bosses across the nation Validation is an understatement and I don't really know how to take a vacation My kind don't have any free time I'm so distracted, but everything's fine I speak shine and I read signs Appreciate your opinion but this dream's mine It's all love, we're cool But you don't tell a cowboy what to do I was the ugly kid that didn't listen Little big man full of ambition Based on imagination, just like you Daydreaming, thinking bout the things I might do I used to paint, draw and illustrate Mom would facilitate and it would feel okay Seems like yesterday still plays a part When I grow up, I wanted a job making art Picture that, how many years old? Young enough to mix up love with career goals But I was just this tall when they told me that the world was mine, but the papers weren't signed There's no deed, so proceed to go seed up the whole piece like it owes me groceries Don't breathe until you formally know me Won't leave? Better call authorities It's all love, we're cool But you tell an astronaut what to do The turntables stole my heart Burnt the paintbrush, broke it apart I miss it, I might revisit But I wasn't that good, I admit it, maybe you can't tell But as a kid, I wanted to be Melle Mel And later as a teenager I wanted to be LL Then I discovered weed and I wanted to be Del But thank God eventually I found myself It's funny when I bump into fools I used to go to school with, and they ask what I'm doing Half of the time I want to crack a lie But fuck it, I'm still a wannabe rapper guy Hahaha, yeah I guess that it seems that way I get to see the world, and it's decent pay As long as somebody want to see us play I wake up every morning and I seize the day It's all love, we're cool But you don't tell the president what to do It's like that y'all, it's like this y'all I don't get to call in sick y'all VITAL STATS: Screw that...I've got bosses around the world.  I'm gonna bang out a serious entry tomorrow. I've never felt comfortable with the "serial experience", so that's as good as it gets coming from me.Peace, tip your bartenders and DJ's, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What have you lost?" Good afternoon, everyone. I'm back it seems...all the pain in my face is gone (and save it, smartasses, with the "how much it still hurts to look at" jokes...you know who you are ), the headaches have somewhat receded, and I think my eyes have finally reset themselves from anxiety, so I no longer feel like I'm walking stumbling around like I'm five times my age (which is well beyond a natural life expectancy, if you're keeping score at home).I missed a few "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" prompts. I'm not likely to make them up in the next couple of days. I'm ok with that. I've made it a lot farther along this month than I have in the last year or so...so I'll take it. Does that mean if I say I've lost the last few days I'll have satisfied my entry requirement for...uhhhhh, today?Sure, but nobody wants to hear that. I could bore you with recent events of loss, semi-recounts of stuff I've lost over the last few months, or the horrifying tales of losing pretty much everything in the last year. But I won't do that to you either. For today it is I that am well enough to at least be <insert your favorite mood swing here>. I won't even take the prompt at its word by providing an accurate listing of the most important things I've ever lost. I'd write myself clear out of internet space before I finished that. A wise man, I think it was me I'm not sure who he was, once said, "There's nothing more satisfying than to write a pen clear out of ink." I think the best time to add to that quote is now (as it's as good a time as any): "Yet there is nothing so disturbing as to discover the loss of a favorite pen". I concur. But only if it's socially acceptable to concur with your own statements, because we know nobody likes that guy/girl who likes their own Facebook posts. The only thing you need to possess in a customer service position in retail (besides a thick skin and, preferably, an open schedule), is a reliable pen. You don't need a car if there's public transportation or it's close enough to walk. You don't need knowledge or a friendly attitude (lookin' right at you, Wal-Mart). You don't even need two arms (but having at least a stump is good...I've seen the guy that owns the diner next door to me serve coffee, and you can't tell me he's not making money hand over...ummmm...wrong time, wrong place for that idiom). But I'll tell you what...that moment when you're trying to talk a customer down off the proverbial ledge and your pen flat-fuck fails you in the heat of their fire, you're done. Eff-You-Q-T. Forget it. Not only are they upset, but now you just look even dumber. And I don't care how smart you are, or how big your biceps are, or how low beneath the V-neck your tan line goes. When your pen has lost its ink, there's nothing you can do on the spot to make it write. Everyone, I don't care who you are, has done that little dance with their wrist, trying to coerce more juice from the ol' Papermate. You shake it, scribble like you're a four-year-old test driving his crayons on the wall, look at it, mumble, smile awkwardly, repeat the process, and hope one of your co-worker buddies throws you a lifeline new pen. Or if it's one of those clicky pens (my favorite), you click it so fast hoping to squeeze whatever's left out of it, praying you can somehow turn air pressure from clickage into ink. Which unfortunately never happens. Ever. Until ten minutes later, after the customer's gone to the parking lot to call corporate on you (because, ya know, who can wait 'til they get home to do that anymore?), does someone come walking by with eight pens just chillin' in their pocket, waiting to dish out a phone number, recipe or hate-mail. All. The. Time. So, ya know, since I spent the earlier part of the month dishing out parenting advice, take it from the out-of-work semi-cripple: Never leave home without warming up your pen and having a capable back-up. I would hate to see any of you come up short in a time of, uhhh, essential time. You're welcome, and you can thank me later. BCF PROMPT: "Tell us about something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail (and tell us why you haven’t tried it yet)." If there's anything more you need to know about me (and trust me, y'all know enough as it is), it's that I'm two different people (at least...but that's the confirmed count for now): The guy who takes chances, and the guy who plays it safe. Allow me to explain this concept to you, in terms neither of us will likely make sense of. Take breakfast for example. I typically order one of two things, every friggin' time. Two eggs over easy, bacon, wheat toast, and French fries with gravy on the side (and just recently have I gone back to home fries, but only if they're extra crispy); or an English muffin with bacon, egg and cheese. Rarely do I vary. It's the continuity of the little things in life that ensure us the terrorists won't win. Plus, I know what I'm getting every time. No let downs. No screw-ups. Nothing fancy...the more ingredients, the more you take your chances with it sucking. But then there are times when I'm feeling a little dangerous. I don't think outside the box. In fact, sometimes I like to break the box and turn it into a cylinder. Or a cone even. Gotta switch things up once in awhile, or else it gets boring. And we all know what happens when I get bored. My mind starts wandering, gears start crashing, and I'm waking up handcuffed to a prison cell covered in pizza sauce and missing a pocket on my shorts. And all that is ok, minus the prison part. But that's for another day. What would I do if I were guaranteed not to fail? That's a good question. When I was younger I used to use the fear of failure as a motivator. The only problem with that is when you fail too often that you know better when not to try. It's a bit of a catch-22 (anyone know what that "catch-22" phrase means, anyway? There might be somethin' in it for whomever I determine has the best answer )...nothing ventured, nothing gained...until the losses overcome the positives. Anyway, I'm getting away from myself...so yeah, here's a complete, honest, 100% no bullshit answer. I'd get all my notebooks together, drop some serious kay-shola, and publish several successful collections of written words. Not the entire vault, but enough to live well off of. Then I'd get ahold of my brothaman DMFM and finally write his autobiography, much in the manner we've discussed many times. Just sittin' in a room and letting the tape recorders roll as we rehash all the good time, bad times, and everything in the middle. After optioning the film rights to the right director (and right doesn't always mean "highest bidder"), I'd publish a few more books of my own...and then disappear. Take some time off and drop out of the world, only to resurface on college lecture circuits, and maybe teach a little (using only my name as my qualifications). And then, publish a deathbed memoir to end all deathbed memoirs. Spill it all!, 'Cuz I can't fail, right? Only, at the end, I don't die. Why? 'Cuz just like Parker Lewis, I can't lose http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcJwmddvSPc. I don't lose, and I don't fail. I wind up living forever, without even aging. Because I don't fail at that either. For real. If I'm clean-shaven, I basically look the same as I did when I was 18, with longer locks. So if I do some sort of exponential math, I probably stopped aging at, let's say 25 for the sake of having a number. I'll be 38 soon. Barring catastrophic injury (and let's face it, even though I had one six months ago, and if I average one every 12.375 years, it still won't be enough to stop me), I'll live to be at least 147 years young. That gives me plenty of time to not fail. And to find all the awesome pens I've had and lost over the years. And I know what you're thinking. Why haven't I tried this yet? The night of my life is still young, sweethearts. All things in due time. MUSICAL BREAK!!  I can't say I haven't lived a lot of this song before.  An Atmosphere song with a nice message and no cursing? Unheard of! VITAL STATS:  Sincerest apologies to blainecindy for not having my editor's picks in on time for "Invalid Item" ...all month I kept telling myself not to wait until the last minute, and of course I did, and then I become non-functioning on a holiday weekend and I miss my deadline. But it's another great edition, and let's all wish Cindy the best on a well-deserved vacation! (  And pssst...hey- you...yeah, you, over there...yes, now stop pointing back and go check out this month's newsletter.)   My exponential math involves some of this in the equation:  I saw the most amazing thing today. An older woman was cruising down the sidewalk on a scooter. I know that's not really amazing in itself, but as she was going toward her vehicle, I realized she was kneeling on it. Her bent leg was bandaged at the foot, and her good leg was propelling her. This instantly made we wish my ankle was still in a gross state of disrepair actually. I would've loved to be chillin' in the parking lot, trying to do tricks on a busted limb, jumpin' curbs and all that. It would've made being broken a hell of a lot more fun! Speaking of which, I saw the ankle doctor today. I told him how I was swelling up after PT. Told him where all the pain is (although I forgot to tell him how I wake myself up sometimes in the middle of the night by kicking myself while I dream...maybe my shrink needs to know that). I told him how my foot burns after about three blocks, and how when I bend it up and down it feels like trying to pull apart steak. His words? "Clearly, we're not dealing with the ankle that God gave you anymore."  Uhhh, ya think?? But apparently, this is "normal". And some things are never going to be "normal". No, that hasn't quite sunk in yet. He said that things were so broken down and worn away that I may not have some functions again, and some won't be the same as before. He also said I should think about getting a job. I told him that's kinda hard to do when all I'm trained at is stuff requiring physical use of my appendages. I'm not going to get all mushy and sappy, but I saw my mother for the first time in a long time. Between 15 and 20 years. I had a nice time. She drove down some of my belongings, we had dinner and then breakfast before doing some light shopping. I felt bad that we couldn't do more (there's not much to do here during the week and I was still having anxiety issues), but we at least go to spend time together and talk, which went well. I'm glad she made the drive down, and was appreciative of my stuff. Mostly clothes, and most of the things on my personal bookshelf from Western NY. A lot of my writing, which I'll probably be working on posting throughout the next month or so...and that includes "Cabin Fever" . I also came across this article of clothing, one of my absolute favorites...my Tragically Hip http://www.thehip.com/ hockey jersey from their World Container tour. I don't have any recent pictures from any of my family, for lots of reasons, but this is probably the most recent I have of a half-brother and a half-sister I haven't seen in a long time. (And it's my most recent Hip jersey pic ...) ** Image ID #1935510 Unavailable ** And now that I've sufficiently killed off another chunk of your day, I'm gonna see if it stopped raining so I can try to go to the video store and see if they have seasons two and three of Arrested Development on "Free Movie Tuesday, Wednesday And Thursdays" so I can catch up before I figure out a way to watch the new episodes (if they haven't already been bootlegged onto Youtube by now). Peace, pencils down and papers over, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| What's up? Just figured I'd stop in and say hi...I haven't been feeling well again as of late. Huge bouts of anxiety, changes in medications, a double toothache, weird sleeping patterns again. Hasn't been pleasing. So I'm just gonna leave it with "I'm ok!" and go from there. Think I'm gonna go home and take a nap actually. It's been cold as hell here. It hailed the other day, and temps went back into the 30's. I have no patience for people. I'm calling it a day. Thanks. |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "When do you find it easiest to write? Do you write first thing in the morning, late at night, or somewhere in between?" What's up folks? Just a good ol' fashioned writing prompt that I can deal with today, which is a good thing. I've probably addressed this questioning several times before, and I've probably had a different answer every time. Which if you know me, know that likely makes some kind of sense. Right now I fall somewhere in between. I've never been a big fan of writing first thing when I wake up, and trying to find a Wi-Fi signal is kind of a pain after dark around here. So in theory, it makes sense for me to write in the afternoonish. But I really like the nighttime better. It's generally calmer and more relaxing. And If I'm really lucky, I'll have had a chance to sit on the prompt a little and think of a better answer than simply just telling you like it is. Like today for an example...I had time to kill before an appointment, so I looked up the prompts. And now I'm killing time waiting, which means I'm not rushing to cram a less-than-stellar entry down your eye sockets. The best answer I can really give you though, is writing's best when my head is clear of worry and distractions. That's why I miss my old ManCave so much. If I was sitting at the computer trying to write the Entry Of The Decade (and let's be honest, who isn't), all I would have to do is give one look up and whoever would be trying to talk to me would just know I'm not to be disturbed. Try puling that move among the general population. It's not so easy. BCF PROMPT: "You’ve been asked to speak at your high school alma mater — about the path of life. (Whoa.) Draft the speech." Oh boy. Man, outside of having to say a few words at a wedding, I don't think I've ever been asked to give any kind of speech, let alone one at a formal commencement in front of a few hundred of people. Not that I can't do it...I don't really have a fear of public speaking once I get settled and comfortable. It's that no one's ever asked. [Side note: I can be had at your function for a negotiable rate.] I was, however, once assembled with a small group of my fellow seniors to give a short talk to the next class of graduates, during our last day of classes. I don't know why I was one of the ones picked. I assume it's because I was part of the "Order & Discipline" committee. It was a diverse group of students that was meant to promote friendship and good behavior. I was not picked for this committee of upstanding young people because I was any bit orderly or disciplined. I may have been the least likely person in this organization, and probably had the biggest disciplinary record as well. But there I was, giving a short spiel about respect and how it's your last year and to look out for each other because you may never see them again. I doubt by September any of those kids remembered it; to this day I don't even know what exactly I said. When I was done, there was a lot of applause. I really didn't think I'd reached any of them and wasn't totally expecting to. I think it was more likely that I hadn't existed up until that point, or at the least was disliked. But for some reason, those kids got it. A few even went as far as complimenting my speech and approach, and asked me if I'd consider failing senior year just so I could graduate with them. Touching, in a weird way. However, I had a light and easy course load my senior year, and you can't just fail when you're taking four study halls in an eight-class schedule. So to the graduating class of 2013, these are my words to you from a 20-year graduate and fellow Cheektowaga Warrior: be careful, because you never know who's paying attention, or how they might try to lure you into things you know you might not want to be a part of. It doesn't stop when you flip your tassel and cross the stage (unless flipping tassels is how you intend to pay for college). It's going to happen through your adult life as well, whether it's your boss, your friends or your stodgy mother-in-law. It's life...just do what's best for you. CENTRAL HIGH FOOTBALL RULES!! MUSICAL BREAK!! Ahhh, the classic "high school sucks" summer jam for the emo-punk kids from back in the day. VITAL STATS: My anxiety is through the roof today. But any kind of doctor's appointment or session will do that to me. I had some EKG's done last spring for high blood pressure...and it turns out that just sitting in a doctor's office sent my blood pressure flying. So, to come up with something in regards to my "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" portion of today's instant internet classic, no, today was not a good day to try typing. At least I'm not totally regretting my decision to lay off the caffeine/energy drinks/Mountain Dew again for awhile. I'd only be 1000x more of a mess. I did manage to do a grown-up thing today...I opened my first bank account in about six years. Don't ask me why it's been so long since I've last had one. I really didn't need one. But since nobody cashes federal tax return checks (and really, why should they if you asked for your return to be issued on a debit card and they still cut you the check anyway), it became a bit of a priority. I have a long-unseen relative coming into town tonight. Don't wanna say too much about it but it should be interesting.And so it goes, friends. My head's about to explode, and I've got a few things to do before I try to get out of the house later. Peace, get lots of rest (I didn't  ), and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Remember a time when you graduated from something, whether it be grade school, high school, college, or a club like Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, etc. What did the celebrations consist of? What were your major emotions after you graduated?" Well, I've managed to do it again. I had half an entry typed and managed somehow to erase it all. I said something like this: 'Sup? I come from a time where we didn't treat everything you were sposta do like a damn celebration. You were supposed to survive grade school. Even high school. Maybe not college, but damn...when do we start throwing parties for making it outta bed in the morning? And Boy Scouts...believe it or not, I was a member...a high-ranking one at that. But we didn't "graduate". Sure, there was moving up and all that, but no, no graduations. Girl Scouts, now, there's an organization that should promote me. I eat the cookies, and do and say mostly the right things. But I don't think we mesh ideal-wise. Heartbreakers. I'll admit, I was a poor student. I didn't study, mainly because I didn't need to study. I got decent enough grades to become a poorly-motivated college honors student for a year. Then I decided it was more important to work for a living than to learn for a living. I had to support that college-inspired credit card debt somehow. The best thing about college though might've have been DJ'ing at the campus radio station. DJ Buzz spun your eighties hits, mostly on vinyl. Cd's weren't as available, and unless I had my tapes with me, I was left to whatever the station's records were. That, discovering what "email" was, and a cute little redhead named Holly that I never talked to, but was in a lot of my classes and was super-pretty, might've been the best thing about that year of higher-learning. Interesting how one year financial aid can supply you with all you need to be a student, and the next year tell you you're not worthy. But for all you kids out there about to embark on something so precious like graduating, go for it! You've probably earned it! Make the rest of us who didn't quite take advantage of the opportunity proud. It's your day/weekend/month/year. Do it up nice! BCF PROMPT: "Blog about the name you wish you'd been given." And here's where I lost my previously-written entry, which was no masterpiece to begin with anyway. But this is an interesting prompt to riff off, regardless. My name's Norb. People call it interesting. I say I'm used to it...I've had it for almost 38 years. I'm also a 3rd. My grandfather and dad had the same name. But that means little to me. I've heard when I was a kid what I would've been called had my mother had her way. I don't know who settled on what name or why, and I don't like speculating on facts that are so old and pointless, but two names stick out... Eric. And Stephanie. True story, bro. I could've been a girl. I don't know what kind of girl, but probably not one of the marrying kind. I say that because I've somehow managed to resist marriage for so long, whether by choice or not. But that's ok. I don't recall all the circumstances, so I'll leave it at that. But there was female potential somewhere in my genes. Maybe I crossed my legs during a sonogram. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Who knows. I don't, and really, all it is now is something on my drivers' license and mail. I guess that's the important part. MUSICAL BREAK!! Can I graduate?? You have no idea how much finding that made me smile. VITAL STATS:  I really don't have much more to say about myself today, other than I feel like an idiot for losing a cat that I didn't even see get away. Go figure. I've never seen cats want to get away from home so badly before. And that's where I'm going to draw this entry to a close. I've got a busy week ahead of me...Peace, sign your name on the empty line, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!  |
| 30DBC PROPT: "Blog. Tell us about your week. Include your favorite blog entry from your fellow challengers from the preceding week and, most importantly, why." Oh geez. Here it goes, friends. The Sunday review. On a another Monday morning. I'm still recovering from an unceremonious bouncing from the only freaking friend's house I have in this god-forsaken hick town. I'm low on patience and self-esteem. I don't know how to live with cats or people with their weird ways regarding relationships. The black cat will get out any chance it gets, the white cat is nowhere to be seen, and I don't believe a grey cat even exists. Ahem. All that said, my Sunday review goes like this: the legendary Prosperous Snow celebrating can do no wrong. I'm calling my shot now: her entries are the lifeblood of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , as evidenced by her reign over it. She's got May 2013 wrapped up. I can't point to one single entry...her work as a whole should be celebrated and enjoyed. She is gifted, enchanted, and has a sense of enormous purpose when she writes. I am in awe that I'm even competing in the same competition as her. So goes another week, y'all. I have some emails to get to and some other things to attend to before your regular Monday entry commences... |
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