I suppose that most every couple has affectionate pet names that they call each other. Names like Honey, Baby, Sugar, and Sweetheart. And I am sure that she and I used many of those names and others during our days and nights together. But the one that stands out the most, and always will, is Sunshine. She could say, "Hey Sunshine" in her cheerful voice, ever so full of life, and it would completely illuminate my whole day, completely change my mood. "Sunshiiine," she would stretch it out in her sad, pleading voice, if we were fighting. And it would break my heart. And I could not ever really be angry with her for anything. It was always just silly stuff. Just making up stuff to be mad about. How sad and stupid and foolish that was. I know that I have and will use names like baby and sugar and sweetheart and darling time and again. But I will never call anyone else Sunshine. And I hope that she will not, either.
Two or three years after I lost her, I was leaving for work one cold February day. For some reason, I noticed a little patch of snow just by the side of the building. It was only a small area, maybe twenty square feet, at most. It had snowed two days before, and not much at that. As is typical in Alabama, it had been just enough to cover the tops of the cars and most of the ground. And it struck me as strange that this patch of snow was still here. For it was a sunny day, and all of the other snow had melted from the roads and the cars and the grass and the trees. It was gone. But here was this small bit that had survived the winter sun in the shadows on the north side of the building. And all at once, I had the thought that my feelings for her were like this unmelted snow.
Not supposed to be there.
Should have been gone by now.
But still, there it was. Hidden from most everyone. Almost entirely unnoticed.
Surviving in the absence of Sunshine...
"I keep seeing pictures now of me and her and those summer nights. My mind fills with her. Oh, but it's alright, cos I laugh everytime I start to think about us..."
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
I'm in blog heaven!
Well, the new computer came in yesterday. (Dude, I got a Dell.) I had an attempted delivery sticker on the door when I got home from work, so I got on the phone to UPS. Eventually, I got the driver's cell phone number, and he actually came back by around 6:30 and delivered it. Can't beat that. What can brown do for you? Got everything up and running last night. So, needless to say, I will not be leaving the house for awhile, except to go to work. It's weird to have a computer that doesn't rattle and make clicking noises. Weird, I say.
Lesson Learned #1367: Don't put wax paper in the oven
I learned this one over the weekend. Funny how you can live 32 years and never come across that morsel of knowledge. Eh, it's always good to smoke up the apartment every so often. Sort of like a natural fumigation, I guess. Or at least like an impromptu fire drill. Or not a drill at all.
Adventures in Schweatyville
So I have a bad habit of eating a mid-morning snack, everyday, usually consisting of something sweet and a soft drink. So I'm eating some M&M's and drinking a Coke yesterday, when Big Sweaty says to me, "What are you doing, man? Why do you do that? You're killing yourself." Ooooooh Nooooo! I know he just di-unt! Let's step back (get a wide mirror) and assess the situation here. Which one of us has the body of a taut, pre-teen Swedish boy? And which one us looks like he belongs in a production of Weebles On Ice? Now, that's better.
The Seven
Nothing more to blog today. So I'll share some dialogue from "The Seven" episode of Seinfeld, which was on last night:
Kramer: I can't eat that. You can't eat a sandwich without dijon.
Jerry: Yeah, you're right. I really should keep more of your favorites on hand.
Kramer: I'm getting a vibe here. Are you unhappy with our arrangement?
Jerry: What arrangement?
Kramer: Well, I was under the impression that I could take anything I wanted from your fridge, and you could take whatever you want from mine.
Jerry: Yeah, well let me know when you get something in there and I will.
Jerry: Is this your half a can of soda in the fridge?
Kramer: Nope, that's yours. My half is gone.
Jerry: What?
Kramer: Yeah, I put my half a can here on the tab. Why, what's your beef?
Jerry: You cannot buy half a can of soda.
Kramer: Well, why not?
Jerry: Well, I don't wanna get into the whole physics of carbonation here, but you know the sound a can makes when you open it? That is the sound of you buying a whole can. And the same goes for this, OK? When you pierce the skin of a piece of fruit, you've bought the whole fruit. Not a third of an apple, not a half of a banana. You bite it, you bought it.
Kramer: Hey, Jerry, if you're gonna be snacking on these, you can't expect me to pay for the whole box.
Jerry: All right, Hobo Joe. I didn't wanna put a damper on your little smorgasbord here, but it's the end of the week, so I added up your tab.
Kramer: Yikes!
Jerry: I know. Pretty steep.
Kramer: Well, I don't have this kind of cash.
Jerry: Few do.
"She wrecked the car and she was sad, and so afraid that I'd be mad, but what the heck..."
Lesson Learned #1367: Don't put wax paper in the oven
I learned this one over the weekend. Funny how you can live 32 years and never come across that morsel of knowledge. Eh, it's always good to smoke up the apartment every so often. Sort of like a natural fumigation, I guess. Or at least like an impromptu fire drill. Or not a drill at all.
Adventures in Schweatyville
So I have a bad habit of eating a mid-morning snack, everyday, usually consisting of something sweet and a soft drink. So I'm eating some M&M's and drinking a Coke yesterday, when Big Sweaty says to me, "What are you doing, man? Why do you do that? You're killing yourself." Ooooooh Nooooo! I know he just di-unt! Let's step back (get a wide mirror) and assess the situation here. Which one of us has the body of a taut, pre-teen Swedish boy? And which one us looks like he belongs in a production of Weebles On Ice? Now, that's better.
The Seven
Nothing more to blog today. So I'll share some dialogue from "The Seven" episode of Seinfeld, which was on last night:
Kramer: I can't eat that. You can't eat a sandwich without dijon.
Jerry: Yeah, you're right. I really should keep more of your favorites on hand.
Kramer: I'm getting a vibe here. Are you unhappy with our arrangement?
Jerry: What arrangement?
Kramer: Well, I was under the impression that I could take anything I wanted from your fridge, and you could take whatever you want from mine.
Jerry: Yeah, well let me know when you get something in there and I will.
Jerry: Is this your half a can of soda in the fridge?
Kramer: Nope, that's yours. My half is gone.
Jerry: What?
Kramer: Yeah, I put my half a can here on the tab. Why, what's your beef?
Jerry: You cannot buy half a can of soda.
Kramer: Well, why not?
Jerry: Well, I don't wanna get into the whole physics of carbonation here, but you know the sound a can makes when you open it? That is the sound of you buying a whole can. And the same goes for this, OK? When you pierce the skin of a piece of fruit, you've bought the whole fruit. Not a third of an apple, not a half of a banana. You bite it, you bought it.
Kramer: Hey, Jerry, if you're gonna be snacking on these, you can't expect me to pay for the whole box.
Jerry: All right, Hobo Joe. I didn't wanna put a damper on your little smorgasbord here, but it's the end of the week, so I added up your tab.
Kramer: Yikes!
Jerry: I know. Pretty steep.
Kramer: Well, I don't have this kind of cash.
Jerry: Few do.
"She wrecked the car and she was sad, and so afraid that I'd be mad, but what the heck..."
Monday, August 08, 2005
Nocturnal Phantasm #805B
Presenting another in a long line of fun, if somewhat disturbing, dreams...
I had been at this somewhat formal gathering, maybe some sort of church thing. I'm not sure. But it was at an apartment building, and there was a group of people there. Every street seemed to be lined with these multi-storied apartment buidlings. Whatever I was at (we'll call it "the thing") ended. There was a long break, or maybe there was a morning and an evening session. Anyhow, in between we had done something involving water. Swimming maybe. I can't remember. So there is this guy there, who I don't really know all that well in real life. I more or less just know who he is. I knew him a little back in high school, even though we went to different schools. Then I didn't see him for a long time and suddenly I ran into him again. He's kind of a husky guy and he's in a band. Anyway, I ask if I can go back to his place to shower and change.
So he lives a street or two over, again on a street that is lined with tall apartment buildings. To get into his apartment, you have to climb thru this little tiny window, probably about three feet wide by two feet high. That is the only way in as far as I know. There is no door. Well, as soon as I get thru the window, I am in the shower. Except there is no tub or anything. It's just a shower head on the near wall of this fair sized room. The entire room has a tile floor, and I guess that the floor sloped slightly away from the wall with the shower head, to a drain or something. There are maybe a couple of things in the room sitting on the floor, and maybe a piece of furniture. There is no shower curtain or anything. So I get down to my underwear and he is still in the room, so I'm just standing there thinking, isn't he going to leave? Well, finally, he goes thru a door on the opposite corner of the room into another room I guess. So I start to shower, still somewhat uncomfortable, being there in this big, open room.
Well, the shower is like a super high powered car wash. Water is going everywhere! I can't even see because of the forcefulness of the flow and the mist which is spraying everywhere. It's like what they use to bathe circus elephants or something. Well, I just had to set my clothes across the room on the floor, because there was no other place to put them. And these were the nice clothes that I was planning to wear back to the thing that evening. They were getting soaked. So finally, I was done showering and it was getting close to time to be back at the thing. So I asked husky guy if I could put my clothes in the dryer for just a bit, but for some reason, he wouldn't let me. Seems like maybe he said the electricity would be too expensive or something. So then I get my wet clothes on, except they aren't the nice clothes any longer. Now it's just like a tshirt and shorts and flip-flops. Just as I climb back out the window to leave, another dude who I just barely know in real life is coming over. They are planning to jam for a bit. He asks me if I am going to stay for awhile. I tell him no, that I have to be going. Then, I can't remember for sure, but I think maybe he gave me a hug. What the crap?! So, I get back to the place where the thing is. I just remember sitting in the parking lot, being embarrassed because I didn't have my nice clothes to wear.
And that was the end of my 100% hetero dream.
"The sky it was gold, it was rose. I was taking sips of it thru my nose. And I wish I could get back there. Some place, back there, smilin' in the pictures you would take..."
I had been at this somewhat formal gathering, maybe some sort of church thing. I'm not sure. But it was at an apartment building, and there was a group of people there. Every street seemed to be lined with these multi-storied apartment buidlings. Whatever I was at (we'll call it "the thing") ended. There was a long break, or maybe there was a morning and an evening session. Anyhow, in between we had done something involving water. Swimming maybe. I can't remember. So there is this guy there, who I don't really know all that well in real life. I more or less just know who he is. I knew him a little back in high school, even though we went to different schools. Then I didn't see him for a long time and suddenly I ran into him again. He's kind of a husky guy and he's in a band. Anyway, I ask if I can go back to his place to shower and change.
So he lives a street or two over, again on a street that is lined with tall apartment buildings. To get into his apartment, you have to climb thru this little tiny window, probably about three feet wide by two feet high. That is the only way in as far as I know. There is no door. Well, as soon as I get thru the window, I am in the shower. Except there is no tub or anything. It's just a shower head on the near wall of this fair sized room. The entire room has a tile floor, and I guess that the floor sloped slightly away from the wall with the shower head, to a drain or something. There are maybe a couple of things in the room sitting on the floor, and maybe a piece of furniture. There is no shower curtain or anything. So I get down to my underwear and he is still in the room, so I'm just standing there thinking, isn't he going to leave? Well, finally, he goes thru a door on the opposite corner of the room into another room I guess. So I start to shower, still somewhat uncomfortable, being there in this big, open room.
Well, the shower is like a super high powered car wash. Water is going everywhere! I can't even see because of the forcefulness of the flow and the mist which is spraying everywhere. It's like what they use to bathe circus elephants or something. Well, I just had to set my clothes across the room on the floor, because there was no other place to put them. And these were the nice clothes that I was planning to wear back to the thing that evening. They were getting soaked. So finally, I was done showering and it was getting close to time to be back at the thing. So I asked husky guy if I could put my clothes in the dryer for just a bit, but for some reason, he wouldn't let me. Seems like maybe he said the electricity would be too expensive or something. So then I get my wet clothes on, except they aren't the nice clothes any longer. Now it's just like a tshirt and shorts and flip-flops. Just as I climb back out the window to leave, another dude who I just barely know in real life is coming over. They are planning to jam for a bit. He asks me if I am going to stay for awhile. I tell him no, that I have to be going. Then, I can't remember for sure, but I think maybe he gave me a hug. What the crap?! So, I get back to the place where the thing is. I just remember sitting in the parking lot, being embarrassed because I didn't have my nice clothes to wear.
And that was the end of my 100% hetero dream.
"The sky it was gold, it was rose. I was taking sips of it thru my nose. And I wish I could get back there. Some place, back there, smilin' in the pictures you would take..."
Saturday, August 06, 2005
The fish formerly known as...
Driving to work today, I encounter a chicken crossing the road. No. Really. I did. And you thought that was only a corny joke. Well, it's about halfway across my lane, walking toward the middle of the road, so I think by the time I get there, it will be over the center line. Well, apparently, it heard my car. So it stopped, did a 180, and trotted back to the side of the road. (Is that what they do, trot? It looked like a trot.) I had to swerve hard into the other lane to avoid hitting it. Man, I gotta get out of this place.
Happy birthday, Pablo
Someone is three months old today! OK, so I don't really know how old he is, but I got him three months ago today, so we are celebrating his birthday. I think I will change out his water, and maybe give him a fruity pebble again. He seemed to like that. He has been looking at me all day, so I figured I better blog about his birthday. Of course, he pretty much always looks at me when I am here. I think he wants to change his name to The Betta Formerly Known As Pablo, and be represented by this symbol: ><>
Feed The Fish
We had dinner at David's Catfish Cabin in Hartselle Thursday night. If you are from this area, I highly recommend you try this place. After you eat, they give you a bag of fish food, and you walk out back onto a promenade over the water and feed these humongous catfish. There are lights on the water and it is just neat. There were even a couple of solid white albino catfish when we were there. Not to mention the food and service were great and they give you big portions. It's a good date activity, just something a little different from the norm.
"It's the remix to ignition, hot and fresh out the kitchen. Momma rollin' that body, got every man in here wishin..."
Happy birthday, Pablo
Someone is three months old today! OK, so I don't really know how old he is, but I got him three months ago today, so we are celebrating his birthday. I think I will change out his water, and maybe give him a fruity pebble again. He seemed to like that. He has been looking at me all day, so I figured I better blog about his birthday. Of course, he pretty much always looks at me when I am here. I think he wants to change his name to The Betta Formerly Known As Pablo, and be represented by this symbol: ><>
Feed The Fish
We had dinner at David's Catfish Cabin in Hartselle Thursday night. If you are from this area, I highly recommend you try this place. After you eat, they give you a bag of fish food, and you walk out back onto a promenade over the water and feed these humongous catfish. There are lights on the water and it is just neat. There were even a couple of solid white albino catfish when we were there. Not to mention the food and service were great and they give you big portions. It's a good date activity, just something a little different from the norm.
"It's the remix to ignition, hot and fresh out the kitchen. Momma rollin' that body, got every man in here wishin..."
Friday, August 05, 2005
Her favorite song...
Her favorite song was Pachelbel's Canon. She always said she was going to play it at her wedding. At our wedding. I never listened to it then. I have listened to it at least a hundred times since.
There are many things that I still remember about her, and I hope that I always remember. Sometimes I think I am forgetting. Well, I know I am forgetting. I suppose that is inevitable. I know that I forget a little more everyday. And that scares me, because the memories are all I have now. And once they are gone... Well, I would rather not think about that.
Her green eyes were full of life. Full of hope. Her view of life and of the world had not been jaded like mine. She saw the good in life. She saw the good in others. She was caring. And compassionate. Many times I can remember her going out of her way for someone else.
She would sing along with the radio when she was driving. She loved the movie, Message In A Bottle. She liked jalopenos on her nachos, and pickled okra on her salad. Her favorite candy was hazelnut chocolates. She always liked to wear socks around the house. Sometimes she even wore them outside. She hardly ever went barefooted. She was born in Germany. Sometimes she could be a bit of a drama queen. It only made me love her more.
Not everyone liked her when they first met her. But everyone liked her eventually. She overflowed with likability. She never tried to be popular. It just happened. She was genuine. She was real. Thougtful. Loyal beyond compare. A friend that anyone would love to have. She placed the utmost value on honesty. I like to think she got a little of that from me. I was proud of her so many times for so many things. But I thought it much more than I said it.
She loved strong and true. She loved the way you are supposed to love. All or nothing. She gave everything she had. Maybe more than anything, she made me feel like I was so much more than I really was. And I think that the way someone makes you feel about yourself is maybe as important as the way you feel about them. She took an interest in my interests. She built me up. I was never more confident and never felt better about myself than when she loved me. I was too foolish then to see that it was not me at all, but her, that made me feel that way. But I am straying here.
Her voice... her voice is indescribable. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. One word from her lips and everything else in the world immediately disappeared. We used to sit and talk on the phone until the early morning hours, often until one of us would fall asleep, not wanting to let each other go. Several mornings I can remember waking up and seeing the phone lying beside me on the bed, knowing immediately what had happened, and smiling. It was good to be so in love, to feel like you are a part of each other. Why can't those times last forever? To this day, just the sound of her voice would instantly bring a smile to my face.
Falling asleep on the phone is a memory I thought I had forgotten, but it has just come back to me now while I am writing. Writing is good. Still, I cannot just sit down and write every single memory. They do not come back all at once, just one or two at a time. And even now, I realize that as much as I still remember, I have probably forgotten even more. And it deeply saddens me.
If you saw her, you would see how beautiful she looked. And then the first thing I would tell you is that she is even more beautiful on the inside.
Yesterday was her birthday. Coming home last night, I rolled down the window, put in a CD, turned it up loud, and listened to her favorite song.
"Her favorite song was In My Life. I memorized her every move. I knew her books, her car, her clothes. But I paid no attention to what mattered most..."
There are many things that I still remember about her, and I hope that I always remember. Sometimes I think I am forgetting. Well, I know I am forgetting. I suppose that is inevitable. I know that I forget a little more everyday. And that scares me, because the memories are all I have now. And once they are gone... Well, I would rather not think about that.
Her green eyes were full of life. Full of hope. Her view of life and of the world had not been jaded like mine. She saw the good in life. She saw the good in others. She was caring. And compassionate. Many times I can remember her going out of her way for someone else.
She would sing along with the radio when she was driving. She loved the movie, Message In A Bottle. She liked jalopenos on her nachos, and pickled okra on her salad. Her favorite candy was hazelnut chocolates. She always liked to wear socks around the house. Sometimes she even wore them outside. She hardly ever went barefooted. She was born in Germany. Sometimes she could be a bit of a drama queen. It only made me love her more.
Not everyone liked her when they first met her. But everyone liked her eventually. She overflowed with likability. She never tried to be popular. It just happened. She was genuine. She was real. Thougtful. Loyal beyond compare. A friend that anyone would love to have. She placed the utmost value on honesty. I like to think she got a little of that from me. I was proud of her so many times for so many things. But I thought it much more than I said it.
She loved strong and true. She loved the way you are supposed to love. All or nothing. She gave everything she had. Maybe more than anything, she made me feel like I was so much more than I really was. And I think that the way someone makes you feel about yourself is maybe as important as the way you feel about them. She took an interest in my interests. She built me up. I was never more confident and never felt better about myself than when she loved me. I was too foolish then to see that it was not me at all, but her, that made me feel that way. But I am straying here.
Her voice... her voice is indescribable. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. One word from her lips and everything else in the world immediately disappeared. We used to sit and talk on the phone until the early morning hours, often until one of us would fall asleep, not wanting to let each other go. Several mornings I can remember waking up and seeing the phone lying beside me on the bed, knowing immediately what had happened, and smiling. It was good to be so in love, to feel like you are a part of each other. Why can't those times last forever? To this day, just the sound of her voice would instantly bring a smile to my face.
Falling asleep on the phone is a memory I thought I had forgotten, but it has just come back to me now while I am writing. Writing is good. Still, I cannot just sit down and write every single memory. They do not come back all at once, just one or two at a time. And even now, I realize that as much as I still remember, I have probably forgotten even more. And it deeply saddens me.
If you saw her, you would see how beautiful she looked. And then the first thing I would tell you is that she is even more beautiful on the inside.
Yesterday was her birthday. Coming home last night, I rolled down the window, put in a CD, turned it up loud, and listened to her favorite song.
"Her favorite song was In My Life. I memorized her every move. I knew her books, her car, her clothes. But I paid no attention to what mattered most..."
Thursday, August 04, 2005
I love t-shirts!
I again encourage you to sponsor Kerry during the upcoming blogathon this Saturday. I found Kerry when we were both featured in the Decatur Daily article on blogging last year. And she will be blogging for a cause that is near to her heart, I know. I would encourage you to support me, but I did not enter, because I probably would have fallen asleep after the first post.
What I really did
OK, since some of you didn't buy my headache story, here is the slightly embellished story of what I did yesterday:
Right after waking up, I called the New York Times and informed them that the steroid that Rafael Palmeiro tested positive for was indeed stanozolol, also known as Winstrol. Sorry, Raffy, but the truth had to be told. I mean, come on. The cat, reeeeeear, is out of the bag. The jig's up. Just come clean. Players with 3000 hits and 500 homeruns: Aaron, Mays, Murray.. Palmeiro? It just doesn't fit.
After that, I had to do a spacewalk and repair some of the heat shield damage on the bottom of Discovery. You may have seen my picture on the news. It wasn't a very good shot, what with the space suit on and that crappy camera on the robotic arm. Come on, I have Asian friends with nicer cameras on their phones. Fortunately, I trained on the Fisher Price Pound-a-Peg, so it was a relatively simply procedure. Things can get kind of jittery sometimes up there. I like to relax with some Michael Bolton or Richard Marx tunes on the iPod.
Amazingly, I made it back in time to have a late lunch with Jen. She is taking this Brad thing so well. Don't believe what you read in the tabloids. I would have hung out with her all afternoon, but I had to be at Martha Stewart's 64th birthday party at 8:00, so I went home and fixed up a delicious, yet easy-to-make, grape salad. Needless to say, it was a late night.
I love t-shirts
This conversation occurred the other day:
"Coney Island?"
"Yep."
"I bet that's a neat place."
"Yeah, it's pretty cool."
"Is that where you got that shirt?"
"Well, no. But I do have another shirt that I got there... and I did have a coney at Sonic Saturday night."
I love to find cool t-shirts. Just anything different. I guess that's not a unique thing at all. But anytime you have on an uncommon t-shirt, people are always trying to see what it says, making comments about it, or asking where you got it. A t-shirt is an inexpensive way to make a fashion statement, although that's not really why I like them. Maybe I just like the attention.
Sudokus
I am addicted to these little puzzles they have started putting in the USA Today each day. I guess it's because I can actually solve them, unlike the crossword puzzle, which I would usually only be able to figure out a handful of clues to.
Can I end an entry with "clues to"? No, I can't. I did order my new computer last night from Dell. Estimated ship date is August 11th :-)
"She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends. How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget..."
What I really did
OK, since some of you didn't buy my headache story, here is the slightly embellished story of what I did yesterday:
Right after waking up, I called the New York Times and informed them that the steroid that Rafael Palmeiro tested positive for was indeed stanozolol, also known as Winstrol. Sorry, Raffy, but the truth had to be told. I mean, come on. The cat, reeeeeear, is out of the bag. The jig's up. Just come clean. Players with 3000 hits and 500 homeruns: Aaron, Mays, Murray.. Palmeiro? It just doesn't fit.
After that, I had to do a spacewalk and repair some of the heat shield damage on the bottom of Discovery. You may have seen my picture on the news. It wasn't a very good shot, what with the space suit on and that crappy camera on the robotic arm. Come on, I have Asian friends with nicer cameras on their phones. Fortunately, I trained on the Fisher Price Pound-a-Peg, so it was a relatively simply procedure. Things can get kind of jittery sometimes up there. I like to relax with some Michael Bolton or Richard Marx tunes on the iPod.
Amazingly, I made it back in time to have a late lunch with Jen. She is taking this Brad thing so well. Don't believe what you read in the tabloids. I would have hung out with her all afternoon, but I had to be at Martha Stewart's 64th birthday party at 8:00, so I went home and fixed up a delicious, yet easy-to-make, grape salad. Needless to say, it was a late night.
I love t-shirts
This conversation occurred the other day:
"Coney Island?"
"Yep."
"I bet that's a neat place."
"Yeah, it's pretty cool."
"Is that where you got that shirt?"
"Well, no. But I do have another shirt that I got there... and I did have a coney at Sonic Saturday night."
I love to find cool t-shirts. Just anything different. I guess that's not a unique thing at all. But anytime you have on an uncommon t-shirt, people are always trying to see what it says, making comments about it, or asking where you got it. A t-shirt is an inexpensive way to make a fashion statement, although that's not really why I like them. Maybe I just like the attention.
Sudokus
I am addicted to these little puzzles they have started putting in the USA Today each day. I guess it's because I can actually solve them, unlike the crossword puzzle, which I would usually only be able to figure out a handful of clues to.
Can I end an entry with "clues to"? No, I can't. I did order my new computer last night from Dell. Estimated ship date is August 11th :-)
"She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends. How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget..."
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Debilitating
Sorry for no entry today. I had a migraine today at work, and I think it was the worst one I have ever had. I tried putting my head down for an hour or so, but finally had to leave and come home. I slept for about three hours, and feel much better now, just the lingering, dull pain. There are few thing worse than when you first sense the blind spot, and then you know there's nothing you can do to stop it. Ugh. A few years ago, I heard someone describe migraines as debilitating, and as soon as I heard that I knew it was the perfect word to sum them up. Mine are not as severe as some. I have heard of them lasting for days or weeks. Still, they completely knock me off my feet. The best thing I can do is try and go to sleep as soon as possible and hope that it's gone when I wake up. I don't have them that often, maybe twice a year. But today was worse than I can remember. The blindness was more severe, the pain was worse and lasted longer, and for the first time in a long time, my stomach felt a little sick. I hope this is not a sign of things to come.
OK, have I griped and complained enough? Geez, what a whiner. I'll try to do an entry later this evening or tomorrow for sure. Actually, I had a dream about Dea while I was napping, so that's probably why I feel better.
OK, have I griped and complained enough? Geez, what a whiner. I'll try to do an entry later this evening or tomorrow for sure. Actually, I had a dream about Dea while I was napping, so that's probably why I feel better.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Why am I still dreaming
Had an uneventful Monday, which was nice. The big excitement for the day was that my most recent order from Old Navy arrived. So I started washing each item, one at a time. Do you wash clothes before you wear them the first time? I used to not, but now I do.
Took about a two-hour nap, trying to catch up from yon weekend of sleep deprivation. Caught a classic episode of Cheers on TVLand. It was the one where Sam plays a practical joke on the gang, making them think a mob boss has bought out Gary's Old Towne Tavern and having him threaten them after they play a joke on him. Sam sends them off on a bus ride to North Dakota to supposedly protect them from the mob guy. They get dropped off by a phone booth and he calls them and says 'gotcha.' Then they're walking down the road and Woody says, "Well, at least out here, we're safe from that mob guy." It's great. Cheers was my all-time favorite show before Seinfeld.
I haven't been running in about a week. Lass is going to kick me. Someone should.
A new computer
You think your computer is old? Outdated? Well, if you saw my computer, you would... well, I don't know what you would do or think. I bought the computer itself at a used computer sale from the company that my sister used to work for. It's a 400 megahertz speed demon (and I do mean mega), with 4 GB hard drive. (Yes, I said 4. No, I did not leave off a zero.) And lest I forget, 32 megabytes of hard-driving, scintillating RAM. Let's not even get into video cards and sound cards. And the monitor is still the monitor I had from the very first computer I bought myself, which was probably back in about 1996. So, beat that.
As you can see, it is past time to order a new computer. I've been looking around online today, and I think I have found the one I'm going to order.
Nocturnal Phantasm #805A
I dreamed that she was getting married. She told me she was pregnant. Maybe she had already gotten married. I can't remember. Either way, when she told me, I fainted. Yes, fainted. Or maybe I faked fainting. It's not really clear. Anyway, we were at some outdoor event or ceremony or something. I first thought it was the wedding, but it wasn't anything like a wedding. Some people I knew where there, friends and some family, like cousins or something. Then, at some point, we were at Sonic, or actually Cardinal. She talked to me a few times. I don't remember what she said, but I sensed this wasn't what she wanted. Or maybe I just didn't want it to be what she wanted. Then they were leaving, and I was trying to fly a kite. (I know I dreamed that because Biff was trying to fly a kite last night on Letterman.) That's all I remember now.
Why am I still dreaming about her all these years later? I don't understand. It has been six freaking years. Why is she so deep into my subconscious? Then again, maybe I enjoy dreaming about her. Maybe there have been nights I have gone to bed and wished that I would dream about her. Maybe there is something wrong with that. Or maybe there isn't. Maybe that's OK.
"I'm ninety-nine for a moment, dying for just another moment. And I'm just dreaming, counting the ways to where you are..."
Took about a two-hour nap, trying to catch up from yon weekend of sleep deprivation. Caught a classic episode of Cheers on TVLand. It was the one where Sam plays a practical joke on the gang, making them think a mob boss has bought out Gary's Old Towne Tavern and having him threaten them after they play a joke on him. Sam sends them off on a bus ride to North Dakota to supposedly protect them from the mob guy. They get dropped off by a phone booth and he calls them and says 'gotcha.' Then they're walking down the road and Woody says, "Well, at least out here, we're safe from that mob guy." It's great. Cheers was my all-time favorite show before Seinfeld.
I haven't been running in about a week. Lass is going to kick me. Someone should.
A new computer
You think your computer is old? Outdated? Well, if you saw my computer, you would... well, I don't know what you would do or think. I bought the computer itself at a used computer sale from the company that my sister used to work for. It's a 400 megahertz speed demon (and I do mean mega), with 4 GB hard drive. (Yes, I said 4. No, I did not leave off a zero.) And lest I forget, 32 megabytes of hard-driving, scintillating RAM. Let's not even get into video cards and sound cards. And the monitor is still the monitor I had from the very first computer I bought myself, which was probably back in about 1996. So, beat that.
As you can see, it is past time to order a new computer. I've been looking around online today, and I think I have found the one I'm going to order.
Nocturnal Phantasm #805A
I dreamed that she was getting married. She told me she was pregnant. Maybe she had already gotten married. I can't remember. Either way, when she told me, I fainted. Yes, fainted. Or maybe I faked fainting. It's not really clear. Anyway, we were at some outdoor event or ceremony or something. I first thought it was the wedding, but it wasn't anything like a wedding. Some people I knew where there, friends and some family, like cousins or something. Then, at some point, we were at Sonic, or actually Cardinal. She talked to me a few times. I don't remember what she said, but I sensed this wasn't what she wanted. Or maybe I just didn't want it to be what she wanted. Then they were leaving, and I was trying to fly a kite. (I know I dreamed that because Biff was trying to fly a kite last night on Letterman.) That's all I remember now.
Why am I still dreaming about her all these years later? I don't understand. It has been six freaking years. Why is she so deep into my subconscious? Then again, maybe I enjoy dreaming about her. Maybe there have been nights I have gone to bed and wished that I would dream about her. Maybe there is something wrong with that. Or maybe there isn't. Maybe that's OK.
"I'm ninety-nine for a moment, dying for just another moment. And I'm just dreaming, counting the ways to where you are..."
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