never seen a blog before
Happy Holidays! Props to my friend Martha who had never seen a blog before.
Happy Holidays! Props to my friend Martha who had never seen a blog before.
Thanks for ordering from Amazon.com! Your purchase information
To see the latest information about your order, or to cancel or
modify a pending order, just click the "Your Account" link in the top
right corner of any page on our Web site or visit:
It's a little hard to be creative at 20 cents a minute, but I had a few minutes to blow while I'm waiting at Kinkos and I was sorta feelin' the spirit.
Have you noticed what a lonely, lonely world it can be? You haven't, well it's easy to forget. There's so much to surround oneself with...to hide from it. Well, that's all well and good, but that's when you go ahead and buy the shiny thing on TV and then you get it in the mail and you remember, invariably, why you were so lonely in the first place. It's not so much that the world is such a disappointing place, it's just that I'm so eminently disappointable.
I wish I could wash people for a living. There's this classic graphic novel called Love and Rockets (yes, it predates the British band), by the brothers Hernandez, which, incidentally I highly recommend. It's currently available as Heartbreak Soup and Other Stories. Anyway, there's a couple of characters who are Banadoras, and they just bathe people for a living. I do massage, but you can't really just lather people up and make sure their armpits are clean, which, in a way can be more healing.
I used to have a girlfriend with a 5 year-old son, and I used to love to wash him. He really took it for granted and made no big deal of it, which was kind of cool. I had a housemate once that let me wash her feet, and it was wonderful. It's kind of a goddamn shame it's mostly only kids and lovers you can get away with that sort of thing with. Ahhh, American puritanism.
Ok, I've spent $3.20 on this blog. I hope it was worth it to you. I guess it was to me.
Thank you to everyone who has ever cooked for me, I am eternally grateful. Whether you steamed some rice and vegetables, or baked me Eggplant Parmesana, thank you, thank you all.
I would like to say that I love everyone equally, but those who have cooked for me have a special place in my heart. I love every eating in every way, from eating French toast standing over the counter, to stew from a Dutch oven in front of the campfire, to seared ahi tuna at a white tablecloth. It all tastes even better when someone cooks it for me and puts it in front of me. Even if the skill of the cooker is inept, sincerity is what counts in my book. (Although I believe that true sincerity produces palatable foodÖdisregarding the drastic accident.)
When I spend money to entertain myself, I almost always do it with food. To eat someplace new and fascinating is the greatest. When the food is really good I close my eyes when I eat, like a guy in a Taco Bell commercial.
I called in sick to work today. I slept and talked to my housemate all day. It was real theraputic-like.
Not much for today, anyone ever hear this song?
Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
guess I'll go eat wo-o-orms
long slim slimy ones,
short fat juicy ones,
itsy-bitsy fuzzy-wuzzy wo-o-orms.
I love that song.
Please imagine that todayís entry is in Courier New at 14 points. I canít wait until Scalable Vector Graphics is a standard, so fonts can be more easily manipulated. It will be so cool.
Itís weird, itís like Iím two different people. Iím almost the worst of myself when Iím at work. Iím the least mindful and the most aggressive. It just brings out my monkey mind so bad. Thereís so little comfort and so much control. I try to maintain mindfulness as far into the day as I can, but often lose it about 10 minutes into the day. I think everyone at work thinks Iím an jerk. The rest of the time Iím pretty cool. Only lovers and housemates see the worst of me otherwise. That is so sad. Iím looking forward in some ways to living alone.
You know what blog I really like? Lacking in Emotional Content. That guy is really good, and I love his layout. I want him to be my friend, but heís too cool for that sort of thing I think. Thereís a fair amount of others I like, and Iím going to have a link list of blogs really worth visiting every day when I do a more involved redesign. Thereís so many, and I discover new ones every day.
What makes a good blog? Clever linking; a sense of discovery; writing that would be of interest to someone other than the blogger and his friends; pretty layout (but not layout alone); and consistency.
Identify with anything? Donít be afraid to email me.
Thank you for reading.
Please look at this quintessential photo of my freind Shiela. We met in Seattle when she was but a young sprite of fourteen. I met her reading poetry at a place called the Penny University, now no longer in existance. I continued to see her at readings for the next few years, usually with her older brother, a wicked slam poet. We got pretty close. We realized that we both liked the smell of armpits, and we would regularly smell each other's armpits. Sound funny? Hers smell divine. Sort of like spicy molasses.
Anyway, she left town to go to school in Bellingham. She's studying theater, a natural profession for her. She invited me up to Bellingham to a dinner a few months ago and we rekindled our friendship, finding it to be ever stronger as real grown-ups. I am always newly amazed at her courage and capacity to love and learn from her mistakes. This is my online tribute to her.
It's these times where it's hard to find my own bright heart. Or I'll be quiet for just one moment and a ray from it will blink out for just one moment. It's like the hole poked in the neighbors' fence that lets out one beam from their brightly lit yard as I walk past it.
But then it's passed and no matter how bright I know it is, I still can't quite touch itÖthat's when I'm running on fear, and I always suspect that whatever I've got to give the world isn't quite enough to make it all work.
You know, Tully's makes a surprisingly good coffee. Their Dutchman's Blend is so balanced and good, it's like a warm little filament in my belly. This is coming from someone living in the coffee capitol of the world perhaps, Seattle, WA. There is some damn good coffee here. Vivace's (a local roastery, really the best, but no drip), Caffe Vitta (another roastery, super solid Sumatra). Also the good shops, Diva Espresso (serving the sublime Batdorf and Bronson varietals), Habitat Espresso (coffee for a good cause), and even the Jitterbug Cafť.
I wanted to take a moment to thank all the other blogmakers, toiling in their dens to write their little blogs, not knowing for sure if anyone will care. I have noticed. Thank you.
Let me bring y'all up to date. I'm about 3 months out of an intense relationship with a beautiful and elegant alcoholic. She's in Wenatchee, WA (known affectionately to some vulgar residents as "Wesnatchee") doing an outpatient program there. Half a state away.
It was all painful and everything. I moved out, the police were involved. I really wouldn't recommend it. If you find yourself drawn to alcoholics or addicts in a habitual kinda way, or are currently with one, I really suggest you go find an Al-Anon meeting. I know that 12-step crap may seem cheesy, but it's at least as good as therapy, and it's free. Plus, there's actually an amazing community of people that are interested in being honest about their own human fragility. There's meetings in damn near every city in the world.
Oh, and I added an Email link...email me if you're moved to do so.
Oh yeah, and I got Blogged. Canya believe it? On an excellent Blog no less, the illustrious "The Booge".
Wrote this last night on my computer at home that doesn't have a modem:
Iím typing this in Word in a really big font size like itís a movie or something.
It always comes down to the words "always" and "never".
Well, in spite of the fact that Iím a card-carrying Buddhist (just kidding, thereís no card), in recovery groups, and just a generally nice guy, it seems that I am completely unable of having any king of intimate human relationship.
What a weekend. My housemate got back from a Zen meditation retreat and told me that I should start looking for another place to live for the moth of January. Cute, real cute. My Momís coming down to visit me from the 15th to the 26th and Winter quarter (HTML and C++, yay!) starts on January 2nd
She says sheís 55 and just wants to live in peace and doesnít want to have a housemate that she doesnít feel comfortable speaking up about her grievances with. I never noticed. She wants to be able to say the words "always" and "never" and I guess Iíve got issues with them.
For example, "Everytime I am vunerable to you, you always get so smug, and youíre never supportive." I know she doesnít mean always and never, but the first thing that always think is that itís not true. Iím not always any way.
Jeez, Iím a new blogger and donít quite know how to do this. Should I wrap it up with some succinct point encapsulating it all, or should I just let it endÖa dangling thought; just like real life?
Sorry for the extreme boringness of the template. I will have something unique up soon. I guess no real blog for today since it's "Day without."