talk about me all you like. I don’t care. Yes, no, yes I do care.
broke down and put my comments back up. I’ve missed hearing from you, my tens of readers. I’ve missed you and I hope that you’ll get back into the habit of checking things out and letting me know what’s up.
So much is going on right now, that I have nothing new to report. In other words, my fate lies in the hands of others. Others that are not returning my phone calls I might add.
How hard is it to pick up the phone and say hello, I want you to come visit me and stay. I’m looking forward to the road trip, the visit to Homer’s estate, and a stop in Las Vegas for a little R&R and gambling.
I just wish someone would tell me what’s going on. I’m just sayin…
September 27, 2005
Almost done
Yesterday I almost finished my tattoo. Here are a few images of it.
September 24, 2005
its a WiFi world
I love WiFi. This morning, I took Stella with me to grab a cup of coffee and a bagel, unusual for a weekend morning, but I woke up feeling like the world is my oyster and she deserves to be a much more active part in that world.
Its been difficult the last 4 years to include her as much as I’d like to because KoKo, my roommate’s dog, gets jealous if she’s left home alone and usually takes her issues out on my rug. (The only rug in the apartment I might add.) But now that this roommate situation is winding down, I’m not feeling as guilty about leaving KoKo alone as I once did, and the fact that KoKo is in Wisconsin with her mom helps. I guess its all fair, since when Stella has an upset stomach, invariably, she will chew up one of the roomie’s favorite articles of clothing, swallow it, then regurgitate said clothing onto the floor in some corner of the apartment, hidden away for days until it is found and cleaned up.
Life is rolling along at such an amazing pace lately that I can barely catch my breath to see what is happening around me. I haven’t been able to even stop and write about the things that have been happening in my life, the people that have entered and affected it, or the scenes that have given me a moment to pause and say “What the fuck was that?”
For instance, each morning, as I sit at the local Starbucks outlet, sitcom style, with my partners in crime, we watch, with curiosity, as a particular crazy man proceeds to act out his daily drama. Usually dressed in dark brown pants, hanging low off his butt and showing an ample sample of “Plumber ass” he pushes his stolen grocery cart heavily laden with stacks and stacks of newspapers and local street rags. Stopping at each paper racks lining the sidewalk in front of the Starbucks he alternately removes or adds papers from/to his cart/paper rack. Once he is satisfied his task has been completed properly, he reaches down, scratches his crotch, clasps his cart and pushes forward, on to the next set of newspaper racks to repeat his performance for the next crowd of onlookers.
I love the color of life in a city, any city. The individual stories crashing into and bouncing off of each other, coloring, shading, and enhancing each experience of my existence.
This morning, Jr. called me. I’ve been leaving him messages and text messages for the last few weeks (since he professed in a drunken state that we should hang out more before I potentially move, and, he’s always loved me and enjoyed my company, and why didn’t we hang out together more often…). He called me at 5:00 am and left me a message apologizing for not getting back to me earlier, that he knew it was 5:00 am, and that he had just gotten the “shit kicked out” of him and was off to the emergency room. His message went on to describe the gash on his head, the potential broken nose (cause it just didn’t feel right) and the blood covering his apartment. Oh yeah, and the broken window from when he stumbled into it and broke it as he was entering his apartment. The best part of his message was the ending. “Dude, I just got the shit kicked out of me in an alleyway, how fucking funny is that”. I love Jr. He lives an incredibly free-spirited and adventurous life. I could fill a book with the stories he’s shared.
He’s off to the ER and I’ll be calling him shortly to make sure he’s ok.
What does all of this have to do with my love of WiFi I’m sure you’re asking yourself? Well, quite simply, I wrote this entire post, sitting on the back porch watching the rain.
You’ve gotta love technology.
September 20, 2005
when it rains…
Don’t talk to me today. I refuse to answer the telephone anymore because it seems that each time I answer the telephone, my horribly, shoddily laid plans are thrown into disarray.
I’ve been looking into moving to Seattle for a few weeks now. Looking into housing, neighborhoods, Starbucks locations, potential shelters, highway overpasses, cardboard box recyclers, etc. I was all set to sell all of my belongings, drive to Seattle, drop what I brought into a storage locker for a while, then head to Vancouver for a few weeks before returning to Seattle and finding a new job earning minimum wage, taking my career into a new direction.
Then.
Then.
Then, I received a call, out of the blue from a firm (a large multi-national firm, dream-job, massive pay raise, all that good stuff) about a position in San Diego, CA. With this information, I began to look south, for housing, neighborhoods, muscle daddies, Starbucks, high-end furniture shops, etc. I had planned my trip west with a stop in St. Louis to say hello/goodbye to a few people before heading to Tucson to say hello/goodbye to the beautiful, talented, sexy, sweet, adorable Homer, then to Phoenix for a little visit with John, my beloved web designer and his partner, and my dear friend Jason. After wearing out my welcome there, it would be off to Los Angeles The Valley to stay with TLBO for a few days on my way to San Diego.
Then.
Then.
Then, I receive a telephone call canceling the meeting from the person I was meeting about the San Diego position. Sad, upset, angry, unsure and lost, I escaped into a night filled with alcohol, fantastic food and retail therapy to right myself and feel better. Thanks Tom.
Then.
Then.
Then, I receive a call from a customer. A very good customer. This customer has increased business considerably in the last two months, perhaps allowing me to actually meet my quota for the first time in two years. Today’s call was to inform me that they would like me to bid on a few small aircraft charters. Like 3 DC-9’s a week from Michigan to Oakland, CA. Three planes a week, at roughly $80,000 each. My numbers would go thru the roof with this and make any move to the west coast a complete idiotic move.
So now I’m lost.
Am I driving to the Beautiful Pacific North West, the magnificent sunny Southern California, or a new apartment here in the alternating cold/humid closed-minded Midwest?
What is a boy to do?
up, up, in the air
My meeting last night was canceled at the last minute leaving me sitting in my office all day long in a suit. Yes, I actually spent the entire day in the office yesterday. The operations staff is short-handed due to vacations and the night guy resigning, so we sales staff offered to pitch in and help answer phones and whatnot.
So my Monday was a waste. I didn’t get any work done, I didn’t get my tattoo finished (like originally planned), and I didn’t have my meeting. I was very very down after work until Tom invited me to dinner. He took me to the Adobo Grill here in Chicago on Wells St at North Avenue. We had margaritas and 2 servings of their amazing guacamole before we headed to the wireless store to see Larry, the employee there. Tom and I both have a sort of crush on Larry, cause, well, he’s HOT. We’ve been in that store so many times buying new phones, headsets and carrying cases. Last night, I joined the nation of Lt, Uhura wannabes and got myself a Blue Tooth headset. (I’m going shopping for the micro-mini-skirt this weekend. I hope I can find all man-made materials still)
Walking out of the wireless store, Tom and I realized at about the same time, that we’ve run out of reasons to go visit Larry. Perhaps we’ll have to start returning items for exchange.
Either way, the dinner and the visit with Larry lifted my spirits and allowed me to sleep last night without worrying too much about what my new future holds for me.
Although, it is much more up in the air than it has ever been before.
September 16, 2005
decisions are a bitch
I’ve never been able to make decisions very easily. Any kind of decisions, large or small will often leave me reeling and unsure. For instance, the other night I needed comfort food. As TLBO can testify, I have a set standard for comfort food that was established one night many, many years ago when returning from a night dancing at the clubs, completely high off my ass. This standard consists of:
1 Tombstone Pizza (pepperoni and sausage, sprinkled with Italian Herb seasonings before cooking)
1 box of Wheat Thins
1 packet of Hidden Valley Ranch Party Dip Mix
1 carton of sour cream
After the pizza is thrown into the oven, I mix up the dip/sour cream combination and settle in front of the TV with the Wheat Thins, dipping away happily while waiting for the main course.
So the other night, I headed to the store for my standard, when I was required to make a decision. There was a sale on both the Tombstone pizzas AND Tontino’s Pizza Rolls. What to do? Who to call? How do I make this choice?
I picked up my new Motorola Razr cellular phone and dialed the only person capably of helping. Yes, TLBO. His suggestion to get both was not very helpful.
In the end, after pacing the frozen foods aisle for many minutes, I chose the Tontino’s Pizza rolls. It seems the small pastry pouches of golden goodness were too tempting to pass up. I’m sorry Tombstone.
Today, I was faced with a much more grave choice to make. Do I discard my pornography, or pack it up for the move? I’m a big fan of written porn. Over my time here in Chicago, I’ve accumulated a good supply of downloaded porn stories and books. Do I take all of this with me? Do I toss it into the trash like some unwanted gadget after all the entertaining moments I’ve shared with it on dark nights?
I chose the best of both. I sat here at my desk, like an Anderson Accounting agent working on the Enron account, shredding all of it for a good hour. I figure, if it is good enough to protect me, it is good enough to protect my glassware and breakables.
But I stand by my original statement. Decisions are hard. Just like math.
September 13, 2005
clarification
The request to light candles, say a prayer and do a little chant for me was for a good thing. I’m in a good place right now, so no worries. I just can’t say for what.
Last night, I went to see the Transporter 2 with Tom. As much as I worship Jason Statham, I was really under whelmed with this movie. The pure level of non-believability this movie presented made it rather hard to stomach. I sat there, in the darkened theatre, anxiously awaiting some exposed flesh from Mr. Statham throughout much of the film, with a brief flash of chest and an exposed arm. I felt robbed. Gotta tell ya though, the chick with the gun and the black mascara caked on her face was kinda hot. I’d do her. I’d have coffee with her.
light the world
If there is anyone out there that is even remotely religious, please light a candle, say a prayer or chant for me. I’m not saying why, but I really need the world to align right now to help me in this.