You say you want...

a highway with no one on it, treasure just to look upon it....

all I want is you...



Probably my favourite U2 song ever.

Please, step into my office.

Please allow me, if you will, to walk you through my day. I come to work between 5 and 6 am every morning, turn the machines on, read the internet for an hour or so, and start to work. It's a good routine. It works for me.

Lately, however, my main machine has been screwing up my program. No problem. I still have time to get all of my reading...er, work...in.

The main problem of late? It's gotten cold outside. No more a/c for me. My machine bumps the temperature in my office upwards of 85 degrees. And there's no air movement. I'll say this again in italics because it will become important later. No. Air. Movement.

Do you know how smells seem to linger when the air is hot and stale? Hi there. Welcome to my office. Come on in. Oh, that smell? Well, we'll get to that in a moment. Here's a list of what I've encountered so far today. It's 12:20, by the way.

1. woodsmoke
2. B.O.
3. dog turds
4. feet
5. stale parmesan cheese
6. a perm
7. wet dog

Believe me, it's very Funktastic in here. It's like one of those Febreeze scent circulator things has been possessed by the devil.

The best part? Wait for it......

It's all coming from the woman in the next cube. Talk about a hostile work environment. At this point in the day, not only am I hot and miserable, but I'm gagging too. Why can't I be surrounded by good smelling, hot women? I think I've died at some point and that this is my hell. I'm pretty sure nothing I did was bad enough to deserve this.

And they wonder why I like to leave work early all the time.

My Black Friday Trip....or one more reason that I'm awesome

I trust everyone had a good Thanksgiving. Mine was one of the better ones I've had in awhile :-D

Wednesday evening kicked the festivities off when I met some friends for $3 pitchers at the Mexican restaurant and plenty of laughs. And, it was an early night as I was home by 9:30 or so. That's always good. Of course, I stayed up milling around the house til 2:00 or so because for some reason I couldn't sleep. That never happens.

Thursday, I woke up around 7ish and decided that I HAD to clean up because my friends were coming for the holiday. I washed clothes, did dishes, vacuumed, etc. etc....watched a good bit of the Thanksgiving Day Parade on tv....oof. I don't know why I couldn't seem to quit watching it as it was pretty annoying, but anyway there I sat. Around 11:30, the pregame show for the NFL games came on, and in the spirit of the season, the first beer o' the day was cracked open. Game on. Around 1:30 or so, my friends showed up and THEY BROUGHT PRESENTS. That's always a good sign. They weren't holiday presents, but rather housewarming presents. New fluffy towels and pj pants....my 2 favourite things. We had a few beers and headed off to another friend's house for dinner and entertainment. The food was great as was the company. We headed home around 11 or so and stayed up til 4...the scheduled departure time for Hell-Mart.

Perhaps it was the fact that I was at the store around 4:15 or it was the fact that I'd been up all night drinking and laughing, or a combination of the two, but it was an easy and successful trip. I stood in line for the tv (I was third) and got a little christmas tree and a stocking for the fireplace and bolted for the door. I feel sorry for the 20 or so people in line for the tvs, though, because they only had 5. You wanna talk about a riot? Imagine me being #6. Luckily for all of us, I got mine and was out the door and home on the couch by 5:15. That might be a record even for a normal trip.

Friday consisted of football and a fire and not much else.

Saturday consisted of football and a fire and beers...and not much else.

Sunday consisted of football and a fire and beers...and not much else.

And now? Well, it's Monday and I'm totally excited to be back at work :-/. And already counting on next weekend....and no more shopping.

just hear those sleigh bells ringing...

It's that time of year again. The holidays are upon us. Not only did a couple of radio stations around here start playing Christmas music 2 weeks ago (or earlier I think), but now my mom wants me to go to Wal-Mart Friday morning for her. Friday as in Hell Day and Wal-Mart as in Satan's Lair. And when and why you ask? 4-9 am for a television that's on sale. 4 am. On my day off. On the day after a holiday that is pretty much centered around eating and drinking and being thankful. Well, one thing I'm thankful for is that I don't have to get up early the next day. But, in the spirit of not having to listen to her complain about it, I'll go. I meant that to say "in the spirit of the season." Really I did.

In other news, a warm fire, Frank Sinatra, Norah Jones, and big glasses of wine could cause me to lapse into total winter hibernation.

Tonight is....are you ready??....Charlie Brown night

I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday and finds at least one thing to be thankful for.

Saturday

The air blew through the window cold and crisp as I wiggled further beneath the blanket. I reached across and groped for the pillow and felt her hair on it. I started awake, wondering where I was, who this was. Soon enough it came back to me. Sitting up, I thought that this wasn’t normal, not how it should be, not how it was. Her shape was outlined, warm, next to me. She was sleeping soundly again. Good. I rolled over and opened the blinds and lit a cigarette, feeling the morning’s breeze blowing across my face. As I lay there, focusing on breathing in and out, exhaling the smoke, inhaling the birth of another day, I wondered why she came, why she stayed. She knew me, had for a long time. Too well, I’m sure, but she stayed despite that. Or maybe because of it.

I eased out of the bed and padded across the cold floor to the kitchen for some coffee. Lighting another cigarette and pouring my coffee, I looked back in at what was once a goal, a dream, a plan. I turned around then and looked around the kitchen, the table scattered in papers and books and notebooks of wild scrawling, empty beer cans and full ashtrays stacked in the corner. They seemed to know me too. Or at least know how to call my name and get my attention. Last night’s notes were still lying folded on the table, the napkin crumpled but strong. I don’t know if she read these things when I was in the bathroom or already asleep or not. I don’t know that it would’ve mattered anyway. The vacuum that is my mind kept me insulated from such trivial things.

Was this going somewhere? Had it already been? Is it just something that was/is and nothing more and nothing less? Did it really matter anyway? It was too early in the morning for my mind to be racing like this. I poured another coffee and looked out the window at the yard where a few birds were poking around in the heavy dew. Early birds, indeed. The smell from the coffee pot was warm and welcoming and comfortable. I’m surprised she wasn’t awake yet. Logically thinking, I should wake her up and get her out the door. Logically thinking never has been my specialty. Rather, I got a skillet out and fried some sausage for gravy. A journey of a million miles at least warrants a good breakfast.

* all characters in the above story are fictional....noone wants to sleep in my bed and I don't have any sausage to cook.

ticking away the moments that make up a dull day

I don't think we spend enough time sitting. Not sitting at work or on the couch or at the bar or at the table or in front of the computer or tv. Just sitting. Thinking, remembering, forgetting, listening, letting the sun warm your face, eyes closed. The autumn sun is a wily character. It heats the day, and your jeans if you sit still long enough, but only for a few chosen hours in the afternoon/early evening. The wind rustles the leaves around the corner and against the house. Kids scream and laugh somewhere down the street. Traffic, always rushing, noisy intrusions, continues like a motorized river on the other side of the house. But in the back, there's nothing. Sunlight and breezes, leaves and whispers. It's easy to be young again. 7, 12, 17...young and in love, restless, free. Peaceful without realizing it. That's what the sun does...rejuvenates. Gives life. The remnants of all your baggage blow about on the ground, but it's better not to track that back inside with you. You don't need them. Sometimes you have to remember that though. Or forget it. Or forget to remember. Or just sit.