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April 30, 2001

accident prone: intro to gruesome accident tales

I got in a car accident yesterday. For once it wasn't my fault. It was rainy and this lady just pulled right out in front of me. I was going the speed limit and hit the brakes the moment I saw her. My good ol' Honda Civic was hardly hurt but her front left wheel was hanging at a sickly angle, and hel-lo $250 deductible.

There's many things I've compared to that moment. You know the moment. I see it's gonna happen and I have that calm 3 seconds when I realize, "Oh yeah, it's gonna happen, and it's gonna make my life more difficult for a while." And then there's that sound. That thick plastic whump that sounds so wrong. The jarring feeling.

The, "I'm OK.........am I ok? Are you ok?"

Believe me, I've had my share of accidents and not just MVA's. I've broken 7 bones if you count fingers...I don't even count toes. When I was a kid, I had a friend who was forbidden to play with me after dark because I was "accident prone". I think I'm gonna do accident week this week.

So fair warning, the tinyblog is not going to be for the faint of heart for a week or so. If you don't think you can take it, email me and I'll write you and tell you to take your hands off your eyes when its done. (wuss!)

metric buttload

via The Airman's Mess...

Suggested abbreviation: mBl.

Usage: I just made a Metric Buttload of bean stew and I'm going to have to eat that shit for weeks. You wanna take some home? I got an extra tupperware bowl...you sure? It's pretty good, just put a bunch of sour cream on it.

isn't that sweeet

Isn't that sweeet:

We decided we were worth the trouble after all. We're back on. God bless us.

April 28, 2001

ok, screw it

What is life other than the dirty details? Lest my sweet little tinyblog morph into something consistantly interesting but nothing ever truly compelling...I must tell my story.

So this beautiful woman. Yes this one. Although we have super-mojo hot pants for each other (and really always have), and although we hooked up romantically recently in such a sweet way, it seems that she never really considered me boyfriend material. I think she was ready to give it an attempt, but it retrospect it seems like a pretty half-hearted one. She seemed totally filled with analytical doubt from day one. "This doesn't have to go any particular way," she said. "If you find someone more interesting, I'll understand." Red flags kids? I thought you might think so.

BUT! I said (I'm filled with buts, whenever I see red flags...there's some sort of connection there.) BUT, she will soon see that I have mastered fidelity, and in spite of reacting warmly to the entire human race (I've been sometimes accused of being "flirty", can you believe it?) would overwhelm her with my devotion to her.

I don't think it has worked that way. And her reaction to my saying the wrong name on the phone seemed as if it must be a symptom of that. We were both finally getting so stressed about it, after only 3 weeks, that we decided that it would be better to just call it quits. There was a certain relief to doing so, and then we felt a certain openness to each other, and talked lucidly about how it might be difficult to just kind of...you know...break it off. Especially since some parts of it had been so...you know...phenomenal.

I called her to say hi the next night (last night) and she told me she was going out dancing at a private club and invited me. I went. When I got there she was already pretty lit. 20 minutes later she asked me if I had come because I wanted to come home with her. At first I thought that she was asking to determine my intentions...and then I realized that that it was an offer.

I took her up on it.

meg, baby, I understand Sometime

Sometime in the middle of the month, Meg, infamous blogger of not.so.soft had a little revelation: She deleted a post, becuase she realized she was so enmeshed in her readership, that she didn't feel free to post whatever she wanted. Now she freaked out about it and stopped blogging for a few days. But then she came back and has been more prolific than ever since (GAWD has she been prolific).

I'm not going to do anything quite that extreme, but let's just say when I had zero readers, I was a little more off the cuff about describing my personal life.

It's not the other webloggers that make me feel a little restricted. It's the people I know in the flesh who are actually involved in my life. It's hard to tell their story knowing it would possibly humiliate them, or that they would think the way it was represented was not true-to-life.

When you're anonymous, no one cares if the story is true...only if it's good. And it's hard when that story is the main story on my mind. So meg, baby...I understand.

April 27, 2001

purty blog

hmm, I got a hit via lycos for the word "purty". I wonder what they were looking for?

in quivering anticipation of disturbing search requests

Well, now that I can see what search engine requests lead to my site....I think it's high time I made sure I get some! Ok, here goes nothing:

sex, hot, navy, underwear, furry handcuffs, car battery, manacles, young, old, Britney Spears, stupid, felt-tip pen, undergraduate redheads, gravity, HUGE, perky, the lost boys, helpless, poke, castle tower, ravaged, brand name, ass, pussy, raspberry italian ice, dog collars, the loch ness monster, appetizers, Borneo natives, gentle spanking, bellybutton lint, porno, sushi, brand name cleansers, bald, evil spork, underneath, Rashomon, pictures

Now if someone gets on Google and wants to see Pictures of 80 year old Britney Spears look-alikes ravaged by gravity I'm going to be the top hit. Something tells me this post is going to be disturbing enough without any search requests...hehehe.

the counter

Well, for some inexplicable reason, I've been avoiding putting a counter on my site. I just thought it would be a pain...or I just didn't want to know if anyone was reading...or something. So finally I did it and for the last two days I've been poring over my stats. Fascinating stuff! There were a few referrals I didn't recognize, so I went at looked at them and Lo and Behold!, I'm on the sidebars of a couple of blogs that I've never heard of before! What a trip. Let me give shouts out to a couple of them. How exciting.

Really, though, I was kind of surprised...I thought I knew everyone who read, cause I'm not bashful. When I put someone on my sidebar, I Email them and tell them and introduce myself. No one ever accused me of being shy.

April 26, 2001

a pretty damn solid boyfriend

So, even though there's some conventional reasons I could technically be called a bad boyfriend, I think that on the most important points I get some A plusses...as I see it:

emotionally available

I'm willing to talk about both "how I feel" and about "the relationship". If there's some little thing that is making a girlfriend crazy...I won't write it off as trivial...if I can see it's important, I'll try to find out what the underlying hurt is about. I don't even watch professional sports (although I do really like Sumo Wrestling).


I'm not afraid to love and I'm not afraid to say "I love you". I still love anyone I've ever loved, and I would never try and hurt someone I once was in a relationship just because continuing to relate to them was painful. I have a really profound experience of lovers and am willing to reveal myself, even when its terrifying.


I am comfortable with my own body, and I am comfortable with the bodies of others. I have never made a purposely negative comment about a lover's body, and I accept the body's of others "as-is". They are the one who has to walk around in it. I love touch, I'm a massage therapist and think I have some skill and ability in this regard.


I support a lover in whatever it is they want to do with their life, even if it is not of the greatest advantage to me or doesn't fit into my ego image. I am happy for them to develop relationships with the other friends in their life as fully as they wish (while still maintaining monogamy anyway) and actively work with my own jealousy instead of automatically projecting it as the other person's problem.


I don't steal or lie. I guess I can be a little evasive if I truly feel unsafe, but I will always come clean when confronted and /or have time to consider what is really right. I wouldn't callously do something I knew to be wrong and say, "Fuckit."

So hey, I guess I'm not SO bad...but those slips of the tongue...what does one do about them! One little mistake can cause so much suffering for everyone!

a sucky boyfriend

Sheesh, I mean, what made me decide it was a good idea to be someone's boyfriend anyway. I haven't historically been so top caliber. The evidence:


One time, I had made plans for my first girlfriend to come over to my house. She had already left when this guy I knew who programmed computer games called me and asked me if I wanted to come to work with him and see what he was working on. I was torn. I had wanted to go with him more than anything. I called my girlfriend to see if she were home but she wasn't. I couldn't get a hold of her so I left a message and went to work with this guy. She ended up getting dropped off by her Dad at my house and I wasn't there. Even my Mom thought that was pretty lame.


Once, in looking for adjectives to describe why I liked my girlfriend's breasts...I used the word "pendulous". I meant it in a poetic way, just that I liked the sway of them. For some reason, though, my girlfriend immediately leapt for the dictionary and looked it up. I was not previously aware of the dictionary definition of pendulous, but let me assure you that it is not a flattering way to describe a woman's breasts. Suffice it to say that I did not have a fun week.

a pot to piss in...

I have really never been solvent my entire adult life, so I've never really been able to provide that family of "special things" that only money can buy: exiting nights out on the town, drinks, fancy dinners, well chosen jewelry, etc...


I think my habit of chewing with my mouth open is so ingrained at this point that it would be very difficult to correct in any long-term way. I bite both my fingernails and toenails. Since I broke my back, my digestive system is a little sluggish, so I rarely hold in gas...is this more information than anyone wanted?


Maybe I'm not so bad...(see A Pretty Damn Solid Boyfriend).

April 25, 2001

man makes major mistake before reaching two month anniversary

All I can do is hang my head in shame. After a particulary moving experience with my girlfriend, I left her a voice mail lauding her skills and expressing my profound appreciation. In one heartfelt moment of such, I made the mistake that men can pay for eternally.

Yes. I said some first name other than hers. I didn't even catch it. Only when she called me up to frostily inform me that she had saved the message and she would be happy to replay it for me if I needed proof did I find out. How I knew it was really bad?

When she said, "I could tell that you really felt strongly about someone."

Ooh, it makes me cringe to think of it even now.

All I can say is thank GOD the person who's first name I said is just a friend, and not someone I was ever interested in that way...but really, does that make it any better in her eyes? No. Am I deeply in the doghouse at this tender, early stage of such a relationship? Yes. Is there anything to do but just take my licks? No.

Any advice, ladies?

April 24, 2001

I'll stop the world and do my laundry

It's one obligation after another. I have to be someplace, and then I have to be someplace else, and then 2 hours after that I have to be someplace else. It is somewhat relentless. I also have to sleep, and not too much of that happens. It just seems like an endless string that is always a week ahead of me...as in, "If I didn't make anymore plans, then I would have an evening to stay home and do laundry...sometime next Thursday."

I wish I could just stop the universe for just a moment to get my bearings and reorganize. I don't think it works like that, though.

my birthday

It'll be May 9th. I'll be 26. I'm going to shave my beard off.

Want to get me a present? No, I don't have an Amazon wish list...compose me a poem, or read some Dharma and tell me what you thought of it, or mail me a photocopy of some body part, or make some really pretty art with CrayPas and scan it and Email it to me. Or just leave me a sweet comment every day for a week. If it has to be something material, then I'll take $10,000. Okay?

April 23, 2001

lab nazi

Beware the lab nazi! In one of my computer labs there's occaisionally this one lab monitor who really rules the high tech lab with an iron hand. The printer has a 10-page limit, and so he'll go walk over to it and if he sees close to 10 pages of the same thing on the printer, he'll pick them up and bark at the top of his lungs, "Who's printing out something about cooking technology?"

If someone 'fesses up, he'll say, "There's a ten page limit on the printer. This is twelve pages! No more printing for you today!"

Lab monitors are also in the position of helping people with classes they've already completed. Woe to a lady who barely speaks English, doing the Microsoft Office class who asks the lab nazi for help. "You're doing that wrong!" he yells (you know, if you talk louder, then people who don't normally understand English very well understand it much better) "Why are you cutting and pasting? Why are you cutting and pasting?"

I've actually thought about talking to him about it, but does one really want to incite the ire of the lab nazi? I bought some headphones instead. Oh, and speaking of, if you spend a little while rating your favorite albums, then Launchcast is a pretty cool thing to listen to.

t. funk

t. funk

Now this is what I want you all to do:
If you got faults, defects or shortcomings,
You know, like arthritis, rheumatism or migraines,
Whatever part of your body it is,
I want you to lay it on your computer screen,
Let the vibes flow through.
Funk not only moves, it can re-move, dig?
The desired effect is what you get
When you improve your Interplanetary Funksmanship.
Sir Lollipop Man! Chocolate coated, freaky and and habit forming.
Doin' it to you in 3-D,
So groovy that I dig me.
- Parliament - P. Funk (Wants to Get Funked Up)

Got faults, defects, or shortcomings?

April 21, 2001

a sexy best friend

True love is like having a sexy best friend. Man, this girl is something ELSE. Let me just make this online tribute to the unbelievable M.C...much love to you girl. I'd tell some stories but she's so damn public-shy she'd probably have an apoplectic fit.

So, I'll just say that she is the most yummy, magnificent kisser on th' planet. I've never been friends with someone so long before I got involved with them, and somehow it just makes it so sweet. She's funny and dorky and slender and sensuous and has a voice like pouring warm milk into a crystal saucer.

She's wicked smart and sincere and trustworthy... Ooh. Yeah.

thanks for the sympathy

Okay, that's it for Catholic school. Everyone thank you for your messages of empathy, sympathy and antipathy.

April 20, 2001

Catholic School Part VI: Stacy McGuinn

The first girl I wanted to be my girlfriend was Stacy McGuinn. One day she was picking on me and roughhousing with me (I remember she swung me around and made me fall on my ass! sexy!) and the next day in class someone was telling me she has said she wouldn't mind being my girlfriend. I really didn't know what to do about it. I was so formal. I asked her if it was true and made it into quite a solemn event. It only really lasted a few days, but then I always had a little bit of a thing for her.

Later on a classmate of mine Phil decided he liked her so, and we always had a little bit of healthy competition, but I don't think we ever actually told her. Phil had two amazing talents. One, he could draw all of the Garfield characters, including Odie, which basically made him an artistic genius in the eyes of Mrs. Sanders' class. Secondly, he was obsessed with Micheal Jackson. It was right around "Thriller" time, and he actually had a red vinyl jacket like Micheal. And he could do the moonwalk, and I mean he could really do it!

One day we were listening to PYT on a portable tape player in the lunchroom and he said, "That's what Stacy is, she's a Pretty Young Thing." I was so shocked at the maturity of his romantic vision and was a little abashed at my assessment of her as merely "cute".

I saw her all through High School and she always looked pretty good, but she ended up kind of in a higher social strata (and I really managed to be at the bottom of every social strata in High School believe me) and was pretty inaccessable. I saw her years later when I went back to Rockford, IL. I went with a friend to some bar with a stupid name for quarter beers and saw her with her hair all crimped and looking kind of like a coked-out partier. Wierd.

today's episode of dollarshort

Today's episode of dollarshort is classic.

April 19, 2001

Catholic School Part V: more 3rd Grade

Catholic School Part IV: more 3rd Grade:

It was after the 3rd day, I think, of my "doing anything" restriction. I was still at the school building, but class was long since forgotten. It was after school and there was a solid packed layer of Illinois snow on the ground. I was hanging out with my rowdy Cub Scout friends, and there was sledding to be done.

There was a small, but incredibly steep hillside on the side of the school and it made for wicked fast sledding. Even if you went down without a sled you could reach measurable speeds of 500,000 miles an hour. There was only one treacherous part. That year the hillside was solid ice, and at one point there was a spot that had formed horizontal ridges, like a washboard. If you went down it in your snowsuit, or a plastic bag, your butt was gonna get reamed!

Marcus Mitchell, resident jock, in a spirit of rowdiness (and probably in response to my big-ass mouth) scooped me up and threatened to toss me down the hill right at that very spot. "Time to go down the hill," he threatened. I was not going down that hill. I kicked and struggled, in spite of Marcus' outweighing me by probably half my scrawny little wieght.

All of my kicking worked, you could say, and Marcus lost his footing. I didn't go down the hill, but Marcus dropped me right there, and landed on my open leg, in what an orthopedic doctor would call a "lever position". Calculate the wieght of a 3rd grade meathead on my femur in a lever position and do a little math and you'll see that it's enough force to break the largest bone in the body.

I was very calm about it, as I am in crisis situations. "I think I broke my leg," I said.

"Bullshit," said Adrian Wallace, probably scared shitless, accusing me of faking. He threatened to jump on my leg if I didn't get up.

Tony Paisano, my roughneck protector (who once threatened to shoot the PE teacher with a .45) told him if he did he'd kick him in the nuts. I was touched (and deeply relieved).

It didn't take long before adults were notified and showed up in force. There was Mrs. Lund, putting her winter coat gently over me so I didn't go into shock. They asked me if I thought I broke it. "Yes," I said calmly, "I think I broke it."

Then I had my first ambulance ride (but not my last). I had indeed broken it, and we're not talking about some little hairline fracture. I had a tutor for the rest of the year, and I still didn't do my homework.
But that is SO another story.

April 18, 2001

Catholic School Part IV: 3rd Grade

Mrs. Lund was a fun teacher. Kids looked forward to her class. She had a strong sense of personal authority and still had that "fresh out of teaching college" experimental kinda glow to her.

So, when faced with my "homework problem", she had her own unique way of dealing with it. It was the dead of winter in Illinois when she finally decided to get innovative. Homework was a privelege, she reasoned, and if I wasn't going to do it, then I would lose the privelege. She told me at one point that if I missed another homework assignment that just that would happen. She would set my desk in the back of the room and I would not be allowed to do anything for that whole day and the following day.

Well, sure enough, it wasn't long before I missed an assignment, and she pushed my desk to face the wall near the back of the room. 10 or so hours of class sure does seem long in such a situation, but I found ways to entertain myself. Besides the normal daydreaming, I discovered that if I pressed gently against the sides of my eyeballs, my normal vision would fade out, gradually replaced my exploding geometric forms and bursts of light. When the pressure was released, the world would gradually fade back in. I think I probably also used my palms to cut off the circulation in my carotid arteries and get a little oxygen dep. buzz. In spite of these diversions, it was on the whole incredibly boring, and I was sure that I would be the most diligent of students the moment the ban was lifted.

When it was, I was informed that if I missed even ONE more assignment, the restriction would once again be instituted, but this time for an entire week.

I don't know what sort of fugue allowed me to forget about this assignment, but I actually missed the VERY NEXT ASSIGNMENT. I remember it, even. It was a list of instructions for drawing a picture where you had to read ALL of the instructions, because if you did them it order, it wouldn't work. Like, "Draw a tree, make sure the tree has a hole in it, draw a bird's nest in the hole, etc.". Anyway, I remember looking at that stupid assignment just five minutes before our group was to meet and wondering how I could have forgotten it. I tried to do it, I even read the instructions, but how was I supposed to remember all 12 steps and not make any mistakes...well, it wasn't going to happen in 5 minutes, and sure enough, there I was holding the damn thing unfinished and my teacher looking at me with one seriously puzzled look when I didn't have it done.

And so my week began. I did not, however, ever complete that week of solitary. In fact, after 3 days or restriction, I never came back to Mrs. Lund's classroom again...
(to be continued)

Blogspot blog of the day 12

Blogspot blog of the day: Fearless.

April 17, 2001

Catholic School Part III: 2nd Grade: Trust and Respect

Mrs Sanders was a younger, nicer teacher, and I liked to talk to her. During the class time allotted for homework (an eternal 3 hours or so straight) I would come up to her desk and tell her little jokes or just little things I thought of. She humored me but she knew what I was avoiding.

We did spelling homework out of a big workbook. We did our 2-3 page assignment, and then the next day we would grade them as a class. She would call out the answers and we would grade our assignments ourselves. Then, at the end of class, we would call out our scores one by one and she would write them down.

One day I looked down and realized that I hadn't done the assignment. Realizing that no one ever looked at anyone else's workbook, I simply waited as the assignment was graded, and called out my score as 100. I did it the next week, and I think for several weeks. This sort of unresolvable tension began to build in me. I wanted to do my homework, but I could hardly bring myself to when I knew there was no consequence to skipping it. I started to get a little crafty...like, I would occaisionally throw in 98's and 97's to keep from arousing suspicion.

To this day I don't know how I got caught. She must have just read my workbook one day and seen that the last several weeks worth of homework were missing. My parents broke the news to me, and I think they were pretty nice about it, but I just remember feeling so, so, so busted. At one point they said, "You'll really have to work hard to win back Mrs. Sanders' trust and respect". That really hit me hard for some reason. I just felt like the world had ended.

I was so melodramatic...I remember pretending I was asleep and then tossing and turning and repaeatedly murmuring the words "trust and respect, trust and respect" in my sleep in the hopes that my parents would come by in the hall, concerned, and call Mrs. Sanders the next day and tell her that I was tortured by my sins and their consequences even in my dreams. I don't think this happened, and eventually I got tired and went to sleep.

April 16, 2001

Catholic School Part II: 1st Grade

Mrs. Carroll had a little invention named after her...the Caroll. It was 3 sheets of cardboard taped together so that they would stand up by themselves, and covered with contact paper. Carrolls went up like a box around the 3 sides of a desk to keep 1st grade students from cheating on tests. Mrs. Carroll had one for every desk in her classroom. My second grade teacher used them as well.

I was a pretty disorganized kid, and had developed pretty bad work habits even in Kindergarden. It didn't create too much conflict in Kindergarden, but that all changed once I got in Mrs. Carroll's class.

We had the kind of desks that were open in the front, and you could just slide all your books in. Mrs Carroll's policy was to periodically come around and look in kids' desks, and if the cleanliness of the desk didn't meet her standards, she went the route of public humiliation. He would put one heavy palm on the top, and just push the desk over a little, dumping all of the offender's sundry shit all over the floor. It happened to some other kids, but I never thought it would happen to me. Then, one day, she got to me, looked in that desk, and mercilessly dumped everything onto the floor.

Could be worse, right? Well, after several months of me not completing homework assignments (for which adequate class time was provided (and used mostly for daydreaming and staring off into space)) she brought my parents in for a parent-teacher conference. As my mom and dad tell it, one of the suggestions she made for holding me accountable to my assignments, was to buy me a puppy...so that they could take it away from me when I didn't complete them.

At the end of the conference she suggested that I get some counseling, and my dad said that he would be happy to if she went first.

April 14, 2001

Catholic School Part I: Kindergarden

Vito Rossalini and I were teasing each other about girls. It was just in fun, but he was saying I liked some girl, and I was saying he liked some girl, and we were going back and forth ribbing each other about it. The girl he was saying I liked, Gina Hallstrom, was actually sitting right there.

"Oh yeah, well you go over her house every DAY!"

"Oh YEAH? Well YOU ride her to Pizza Hut on your big wheel." (I still always wonder where Vito got this idea, what a date!)

I can't remember howm but at some point in the conversation, it got a lot less hypothetical, and he looked at me point blank and asked, "Do you really like her?"

I was suddenly aware of her prescence there next to me, and in a split second realized that to snort indignantly, "No!" would be to callously hurt the poor girl's feelings. I quite honestly had never thought of the girl that way, but I said, "Well, yeah." That seemed to somehow diffuse it. I thought. A day later or so, Gina came up to me and said, "Was that true, what you said the other day?"

Compelled by the same compassion (or cowardice) I again replied in the affirmative. "Boyfriend!" she said, and wrapped her arms around me. Gina was a pretty hefty girl if I remember correctly. It was kind of a surprise.

So we continued to be together (which involved mainly these occaisional hugs and outbursts) until our relationship just sort of fizzled out, I don't remember why...maybe because I never officially recognized the relationship...I did hug her back though, I remember that. I was never one to withhold affection.

April 11, 2001

Intro to Catholic School Tales

Can you believe it? I went to Catholic school from about the last half of kindergarden through 4th grade. No nuns, just sociopathic teachers that I helped to push to the brink of retirement.

We used to recite the Pledge of Allegience, that spooky utterance that all good red-blooded american kids recited dumbly with hands on hearts. (I still like Calvin and Hobbes version the best...I pledge allegience, to Queen Fragg, and her mighty state of hysteria...Ow, Leggo! {if anyone can find me the link to this strip, I'd much appreciate it.) We did it however with 2 addendums:

1. with truth and justice for all...and God Bless America.
This was pretty standard parochial school fare, but then, even wierder, tacked on to the end was the misnomer:

2. I am special.

It wasn't too long before I noticed an astounding dichotomy. The teachers would make us recite this (all in unison of course), and then the first thing they'd say when you wanted to do something out-of-line was (I swear!), "Do you think you're special?"

When I pointed out this clear hypocrisy, I can't remeber exactly what I was told, but something about us all being special in God's eyes, but all being equals to the teacher. Only I don't think it was even that clarity-filled. More of a "shaddup kid, ya bother me" kind of response. I remember being quite unsatisfied, but also somewhat aware that I was just purposely being a pain in the ass.

I think I'm going to feature Catholic school stories all week.

April 10, 2001

16 color movie creator 2.0

By the way, 16 Color Movies just finished their 16 Color Movie Creator 2.0. Go download it, make a couple of 16 color movies and animate them. Or just go look at my fantastic movies. Also great are movies by K@boom and Cark.

dance, dance revolution

I went into an arcade and saw dance dance revolution. How funny, I thought, who would play such a dorky game! It's a game where you jump on different squares of a touchpad on the floor. I can't tell exactly how it's played, but it looks sort of like a simon* game, where you have to press buttons in the right sequence.

Then, on my way out, I saw not one, but two people playing it in competition. And they looked serious. Sweat beaded down their faces as they jumped in synch. I couldn't believe it but they looked...kind of cool. I find out later that the game is this huge cultural phenomenon in Japan. I am so out of it...but I'm game. I'll try it.

* In looking for a good link for Simon, I discovered two things: There's a way updated simon, and simon was called senso in Germany. So here's the links, Old Simon, New Simon, Senso

April 9, 2001

i discover pie in the sky

Hey check out my new sidebar link...what a well-done blog.

henk's pretty pictures

Henk's pretty pictures. He says they're unspectacular, but I think they're nice!

April 7, 2001

365 mac and cheese

On the label of Whole Foods 365 Mac & Cheese brand Macaroni and Cheese, after the diections:

Macaroni and Cheese is one of the most romantic dinners ever conceived. To this day, the great chefs of Europe argue over who prepares the finest Macaroni and Cheese and if it can be improved. Here are some ideas:

  • Sprinkle a few spoonfuls of toasted breadcrumbs over the top for a nice crunch.

  • Add some cut up hot dogs (Whole Foods has several healthy versions) when mixing the pasta.

  • Top the dish with chopped, steamed vegetables such as peppers, broccoli, carrots or cauliflower.

  • Crumble cooked bacon over the top before serving.

  • Mix in seasoned, cooked ground turkey.

  • Add a dash or two of chili poweder for a kick.

  • Caviar can be used as a topping, but why gild the lily?

I sometimes throw in a can of tuna fish, myself, when I want that "gourmet touch". I tried the chili powder thing too, but I used cayenne pepper...unfortunately enough to render the stuff inedible for me. I tend to get fancier with grilled cheese sandwiches. (Avacado, thinly sliced tomato and onion...)

Mmmmm...comfort food.

April 6, 2001


Nothing like a little applesauce to brighten up your day.

April 5, 2001

they'll never fire me now

Wierd, wierd, wierd. My write up was very interesting. It ended up with my boss tearing up the write-up and telling me it was OK to use the internet. I wasn't expecting that. I just listened for about 25 minutes while she said everything she had to say, and then I just calmly went over everything point by point as carefully as I could. I guess it worked OK.

i wish they'd just fire me

I'm not supposed to be on the internet at work (during an unsupervised graveyard shift), but I do anyway. So they're going to write me up. Those bastards...I wish they'd just fire me. I've never been able to collect unemployment before.

April 4, 2001

goddamn geniuses

I'll tell you what. Miles Davis and Gil Evans are Goddamn Geniuses. Listen to Porgy and Bess if you don't believe me.

learning to program

Gawd learning to program is intense. It will be damn cool when I know Java though. I'll bet I know enough to include a little applet here on the blog in a few weeks, though. Really I someday intend to make a site for myself, but I'm working on my Dad's Site, and interning for The Licton Springs Review at my school, so I feel guilty with spending lacadaisical creative time working on my own site. Someday. It's worth it to work my ass off and have no life for a while...I'm getting sick of barely making enough money to live on. I want money, it's that simple. People with money are happier, don't you know that?

blogvoices no more

Hm. That whole thing with BlogVoices not putting the silly number of voices for that post just makes the whole darn thing so much less useful. I can't quite say it's not worth using at all as a result, but awfully darn close. I'm going to think about it for a few days and maybe replace it with a guestbook or Email form. I think it is a little too much to ask people to actually Email you if they just want to jot you a quick note. If people don't have BlogVoices or a guestbook, I have to have a pretty compelling desire to communicate with them to actually Email them. It would be cool if clicking mailto: links always worked, but most computers I'm on don't have a configured mail client, and I use web-based mail everywhere 'cept work.

April 1, 2001

in love

Ok, it's true. I'm in love.

It's a friend...someone I've known for a while. Someone who's been really demonstrative about her love for me, and I was just too foolish to open up to her. But then, over the last few weeks, I've been sort of checking her out...seeing how she interacts with other people...see what kind of feedback I get. I even asked my Lama about her. He said she was worthy, and to be kind to her. This seems obvious, but coming from him it's like a warm glass of milk. All my resistance melted away and I told her I wanted her to be my partner until we mutually decided not to be anymore. I don't see us deciding that anytime soon.