March 2007

March 2007

Sunday, 3-25-7

Another full weekend, busy with traveling to visit family. Last week we drove to Hernando to see Mom and Dad, this week we drove to Atlanta to see Jerry, Scott and Jeremy. It was a nice visit, a thankfully uneventful drive up and back. Not really a noteworthy trip except for the main reason we chose THIS weekend to make the drive.

Unless you include my minor excursions into the side-shows of New Orleans and Myrtle Beach, this was only my second drag show. The first was a year and a half ago and I'm not sure it counted. I didn't know what to expect, their friends saw me as an 'outsider' and possibly a threat so I was left alone; but not this time. This trip, I was one of the friends, just one of the crowd, another supporter.

When we went up the November before last, Jerry was competing for Miss Dixie. It was his first competition and he didn't win but I was so excited for him. It was something new for me to see him dressed like that. The really freaky thing though was he wore a dress similar to Teresa's prom dress and his wig was made up the same way Teresa used to wear her hair. From the back he looked like Teresa and when he turned he looked like all of the early pictures I've seen of Lada. People have said that I look like my mom but this was a whole other realm. I was very glad we drove up for the competition to support him that time.

I remember we actually left festival for it. I drummed all night Friday, Teresa drove out at dawn Saturday; I cooked breakfast, started lunch, caught a plane and landed in Atlanta in time to meet Teresa for the show. We saw the show and drove straight back in time to cook breakfast Sunday morning and pack up camp. It was a hellish trip (and dangerous!) but I would do it again. It was the first time that Jerry invited Teresa and me to join in that part of his life and it was his first competition. I always thought it would take a death in the family to get me to leave festival site but it turned out there are other things that have that power as well. Love and support can do it too!

So, last November the contest fell over the festival dates again and we didn't go that time. I wish I could have because he won! He (I'm still learning drag-etiquette, It's supposed to be 'she' but I'm not sure how comfortable he is with me revealing his stage name on-line so, I'll just keep the 'he' for now) is the reigning Miss Dixie 2007. Yeah!

So this show was just a fund raiser and without all the competition, everyone had a blast! All of the friends have gotten to know me a little bit now and know that I'm not "That straight guy that got dragged to the gay bar"; I'm here because I want to be here and what a show it was. Funny and talented too. There were a few performers that really put everything they had into it. There were seasoned professionals and amateurs. There were a few that did the 'over the top' presentation with HUGE boobs and butts and others that dressed for real but still looked like Ned Beatty. Everyone had fun and there was even one that made me look twice (if only for a second...)

I told Jerry that all of this is not good for my competitive streak. I'm sitting there and thinking to myself, "You know I would do it this way, wear the dress that way, perfect my stage presentation, etc, etc." We laughed about it because I'd never actually go on stage but Jerry seems to think I'll give in and do it one day. Never going to happen! Although, I imagine myself with full beard and a cigar with a curly blond wig and I've got a few songs picked out that would be just perfect...

Monday, 3-19-7

Last Wednesday I stayed up late writing into the wee hours of the morning. The schedule had me staying in Dothan through the end of the week. I was set to finish my work on Thursday but the maintenance window wasn't set up until Friday night at midnight going into Saturday morning. That sucks. I won't have anything to do all day Friday but hang out at the hotel and write, maybe finish Warcraft III. ( I got through the whole damn thing in a week but I can't complete tha last level!!!) So I go in on Thursday after very little sleep and they tell me that the maintenance window got pushed up to tonight! Cool, I can go home as soon as that's done. By Thursday afternoon my ass is dragging. I've got a bunch of the circuits tested. Were 25 minutes in to a 30 minute test and the damn power goes out. The generator keeps the equipment running but my test set goes dead. SO I wait around all Thursday for power to restore. At 5pm it hasn't yet. I return to the hotel and work on all of my paperwork that has to be done. I finish up all of the paperwork as well as my expense reports for the last three weeks just in time to go back in for the maintenance.

The building has power at least. The NOCC crew is working on some telco issues and we don't actually finish the 15 minutes worth of work until 3:30am. On no sleep I attempt to drive back to Jacksonville. It takes me 7 hours to make the 5 hour drive but I get there in time to load up in the truck and (Teresa drives) we go down to my parents house for the weekend. We had a good time visiting and talking (and playing a bit of poker) and we head out Sunday around 5pm. We end up at home just in time for me to check my e-mail, get an hour or two's worth of sleep and drive to Ft. Walton Beach for work at 8am. I am tired!

I'm working with a new TOR this week. He has quite the reputation for being a pain in the butt if you screw up. The type of guy that will watch you put in the wrong screws, let you complete everything else and then tell you to start over. So I knew he wanted to meet at Eglin AFB at 9am, I didn't know if he meant EST or CST so I got there an hour early. He called me to let me know he was running late and wouldn't be there until close to 10, CST. So I'm sitting on my butt for almost three hours! Oh well, I'd rather wait on him than have him waiting on me.

While I was waiting, I saw a guy working on the road signs on the base. He was taking down a post that had a "Stop" and "No Left Turn" signs on it. He was having all kinds of trouble. Wiggling the sign post, digging, he just couldn't get the post out of the ground. He had to take both of the signs off of the post. When I looked up again, he was installing a new post. It was the same type as before. After replacing the post with an identical post, he put up two new signs on the new post. "Yield" and "No Left Turns". Why didn't he just take down the "Stop" and put the "Yield" in its place!?

The TOR is finally here. He drove past the gate the first time. He told me he assumed I got in the base. The whole idea of meeting up at the visitor's gate was that I can't access the base without him signing me on! Oh well, I have another technician driving in from Nashville, he's running late too and should be here by 10:30.

So while we're waiting for this guy to show up, I'm sitting in the truck getting a head start on some paperwork. Of course I'm listening to my music while I'm doing it. Becca's voice comes on the iPod and I immediately snap to attention. For Father's Day last year she recorded a karaoke version of "Daddy's Hands" for me. She hates to hear it (as we ALL hate to hear recorded versions of our voices). You can tell she was nervous recording it. You can hear her voice trembling while she was singing but I LOVE hearing her singing. So now I'm sitting in the truck with tears rolling down my cheeks when the other tech finally shows up. I must have looked stupid but I don't care. I cry almost every time I hear her sing that song.

My original line here was that I hope this week doesn't turn out like this morning but I'm here and actually posting this on Tuesday night; the week got worse! Oh man I am just amazed at my ability to hold back the rage building in me this week. I just want to explode!

BTW; Ft. Walton Beach is a misnomer. Ft. Walton Bay I'll buy, but there's no real beach here. Not where I've been looking. This place sucks. Spring Break is in season and I'm stuck in between Panama City and Pensacola. Alright, maybe I'll post more on this later but this is really Monday morning's post so I'll leave it at that. Good night.

Thursday, 3-15-7
The Ides of March

Random thoughts, piling up over time...

Isn't it great when you wake up in the middle of the night feeling like you slept forever and expecting the alarm clock to go off in a few minutes. But then you look over at the clock and find out you have only been asleep for an hour or two. I love this feeling. It's like I'm stealing time. I could wake up and function but it's only 2am and I've got four more hours to sleep and relax! Wow that feels great. It just happens so rare. I normally wake up with ten minutes left to go, knowing that if I close my eyes I'll sleep through the alarm.

According to Def Leppard's official website (FAQ #23), the "gunter glieben glauten globen" intro for the song "Rock of Ages" is not Swedish or any other language. It is meaningless. I had heard this years ago but recently had this discussion again because of the first music quiz being the count-off. I decided not to include it in the clips because I knew it wasn't numbers although it still would have been fine because it did serve as the count-off for the song.

I've had to run a lot of EMT pipe in the last few weeks. I used to run a lot of pipe back when I worked for the alarm company. The museum here in Jacksonville (MOSH) was a proving ground for learning how to do it right and making the most complex bends I've made to date. Those were the best. Where most others will cut the pipe and put in a coupler to rotate the angles, I was taught to think in 3-D space and make multiple bends in a single piece of pipe. I learned under a guy that had impeccable skills and the same attention for details that I have. If the pipe was not lined up correctly, was not level, was not aesthetically pleasing to his detailed eye, we had to do it again. Do it right.
Years later, every time I have to install a difficult run, I finish and step down. I look up at it and think, "Yeah, Howard would be proud." If I can say that, then I know I am done.

I got to play my drum last week. I was working in the St. Pete area and hooked up with a couple of friends I only get to see a few times a year. The place was pretty happening. There were probably 20 drummers of all different sorts and another 40 or so people watching. All in a relatively small area. The sound of the room was nice. Once, during a storm at festival, we played under the pavilion and the sound was so crisp! It sounded so cool that some of the dancers actually wanted to play under there again. This place sounded a little similar but not as sharp. I wish I had my big drum there. I travel with a smaller drum so I can take it without worrying too much about it. It was nice to play in a different crowd. When you play with the same crowd all the time, you start to get in a bit of a rut. This was a nice little wake up and refresher. There were some beginners, some middle–of-the-roaders and some experts. It melted in nicely. Some of the stereotypes were there too. The dreads boy who just pounced on the drums with a freaking fury and then was done for the night ten minutes later. There was the dancer guy who looked like he just took every drug known to man and was tripping out REAL hard. Then there was the guy who is organizing a drum circle to end the war. Nice idea, but I don't get the cause/effect. Smoking-up a little, playing drums, talking about politics, even bashing the current administration; all of these activities sound like fun but how are we impacting the overall war effort? How is it that I can end the war by beating my drum? I know I can raise positive energy with my drum, I know a crowd of people can raise awareness about an issue. Is that the problem? Is it that most people out there don't know that we have a shitty war situation going on out there? No, I'm pretty sure most people are well aware. So if we're not trying to raise awareness, what is it that we are trying to do? I knew I was deep in liberal territory so, being a politically free-thinking person I tend to keep to myself but I really wanted to ask someone how they thought this was going to work. No one asked. Everyone took the flyer and nodded, and they all smiled and laughed when someone made a little dig at GW Bush that I remember thinking wasn't even witty enough to put on a bumper sticker.

Hey, I'm not a fan of any political party, much like religions, they each have fatal flaws. But I don't get it when people say they are going to change the world by sitting around. Wouldn't a better way to create change on our society be to go out there, get a haircut, buy a new suit, run for office and make your changes there? And it has to be a group of people. I don't want to sound hopeless here or anything but one person can not make a difference in the grand scheme. Not in the way a group can. What if one region had 20 hippies that decided to do that all at once? If the only two choices on the ballot for your local representative was an idealistic hippy and the corrupt politician you've been complaining about for the last few years? A few of them will get elected. From there, they do an outstanding job, proving themselves capable and now they are running for Senator. Soon, you have infiltrated the system and now it is YOUR system, your government. Of the people, by the people... That makes sense to me. Not a group of stoners banging drums. And I'm a huge fan of stoned drummers! I am part of the stagnant masses, unmotivated about starting the revolution on my own. I am not laying blame at other's feet, I'm only pointing out that the kind of change people want will not come around by waiting for it. Waiting only brings a new brand of misery. To get what you are looking for, you have to seize the power from within. Seizing is not in these people's natures. I guess I am not much of one for causes am I? I believe change can happen but not by talking about it. There will be a new cause next week and it too, will be full of easily distracted followers. "I am Homer of Borg, prepare to be assimila...Ohh, donuts!"

I've been having weird experiences with my iPod recently. I keep it on random play. I have a very wide mix of music on the player, around 8000 songs. Every week I am home I shuffle it up so it's never the same 8000 songs. A lot of the times I'll be driving along and one song will remind me of another. Within two or three songs, that other song will come up. I'm not doing anything but listening. I think of a song and it comes up in the random queue... Weird.

The freakier thing happened last Thursday. I was driving along listening to random play. The live version of Slayer's "War Ensemble" came on. At the end of the song they have a couple of seconds of the singer interacting with the audience and introducing the next song as "Anti-Christ". I was thinking that I might hit skip because I wasn't in the mood for two live tracks back to back but then I remembered I was on random and the introduction was at the end of the other song. He'll yell, "This next song is..." and then we'll go into another randomly picked song, could be anything. Out of the 7999 songs possible(*), the next song was the studio version of "Anti-Christ". My iPod is haunted and I think I might be controlling it with my mind... Spooky!

(*) Yes, I know that the iPod won't repeat tracks on the random setting so the ACTUAL number of songs available for it to pick from was smaller but it was close enough. Besides, maybe I have more than 8000 songs currently on the iPod, maybe I was rounding down? Then why did you say 8000? Because it's a close round number. So you lied? No, I said "around" so it wasn't a false statement. OK maybe, but some of those songs aren't really songs are they? What do you mean? Aren't some of those "songs" actually Podcasts and audiobooks? Well, yeah, what are you getting at? Let's say for the sake of argument you have exactly 8000 tracks on the iPod. OK. Some of them are already played and are ineligible for selection from the randomizer until you start over right? Right. Some of them are Podcasts and audiobooks and not in your random playlist right? Ok. So it would be closer to say 7500 or 7000 than to say 7999 wouldn't it? Well since you pointed out all of this yeah, maybe but it would have taken a lot of explaining. What, you don't have time to explain? Yeah I guess but I still don't see what you are driving at. You wanted to impress people didn't you? WHAT!? Yeah, you wanted to repeatedly say that you have 8000 songs, you have 8000 songs, take one away you still have 7999 songs, you have 8000 songs. Why would I do that? Because you think people will be impressed with your overabundance of music don't you? No, I don't. Oh yes you do. You're one of those that runs around with your computer stats on the tip of your tongue, just waiting for someone to ask aren't you? No, and actually I have lots more music than that. 8000 was only what fit on the iPod. And I don't have a fancy computer. It is sufficient for now but I could always improve it. Well you'd better! It's Ok, we'll take this all out in post. We can even go back and fix it where you said songs and obviously meant tracks. I don't do post. What? I don't do any post. I write this up and I copy/paste it right into the HTML editor. Somewhere in between I try to remember to hit spell-check. But you HAVE to do post, you have to make all these corrections. Nope. No post. You suck! Well, you're in my head so just keep that in mind...

Could I handle the loner life? Could I have chosen a different path that allowed me the freedom to do what I want, when I want? Sure. I would have been good at it. Can I change into that person now? No. There is no way for me to convert to the other possible versions of me that have been denied through years of decisions that have had me walking a different path. I am not who I was twenty years ago, I am not who I was five years ago. Had I made different choices at any point in time, I would be a different person. I can never be the person that I see from across the time barrier. As romantic as it sounds, I can never go back and change any of the choices I have made in my life. Nor would I. Good or bad, right or wrong, I made those choices and I have turned into who I am today. "If only I had..." "I should have..." Those sentiments are useless and they are wasters of my time. I am proud of myself in the things I have done well, I am wiser for the choices I made poorly. I'll never understand these people that want to change the past. Longing to be the person they could have been rather than bettering the person they have become.

Wednesday, 3-14-7
Happy pi day!

I'm sitting here on the 5^th floor of the Dothan, Alabama tower. It is the equipment room (all of the cool, controller stuff takes place up on the 8^th floor). I've been sitting here listening to their automated loop;

"Delta tower information. Time one three five two zulu. Zero one three five zero seven. Visibility two miles with mist. Ceiling clouds at one hundred. Sixty five hundred overcast. Temperature; one seven. Dewpoint one six. Altimiter; three zero two three. Expect a VOR approach landing runway one four. Advise you have foxtrot."

I have heard that repeated every 20 seconds for the last three hours. I am going insane. I may be going crazy but at least I have a nice view. I am looking out the window towards the runways and watching the fog lift. When we got here it was so thick you couldn't see the ground from this height, now the sun is out and I can barely see the fog still lingering in the tree line across the airstrip.

The job is making less sense to me now. I don't know how long it will take me to realize that it will never get any better. What is the necessary clue-brick that will finally wake me up? I am controlled by various layers of monkeys that make decisions on nothing other than the instant gratification of the numbers game. They make scheduling decisions by flinging poo at a map. Forethought and reason have gone out the window. I have four bosses contradicting each other to the point that I can do nothing right (or nothing wrong) without three of the four calling me and asking for clarification. I'm having trouble figuring out why I am willing to stay away from my family and friends, sacrificing my life and my nerves, just to make a few dollars.

Meanwhile, spring is here for a few minutes. Soon it will be full-on summer again.

Futility comes in the same wrapper
And I buy it every time.
Waiting these last few months
Holding on to hope
These last few weeks
Waiting for winter to begin.
It floats by, just out of reach
Calling me from the road
And promising to stop by
Next time.
And like a fool,
Here I sit, waiting
For something that I know won't happen
Expecting the unreasonable
Praying for a little bit of sanity.

Saturday, 3-10-7

Rather than try to dress everything up and try to post-date all of the entries I have half written in the last few weeks, I'll just paste them in here and give a recount of what has been going on since I last posted. As I'm sure is the same with al of you, life is busy and it is hard to find the time to do all the things you want as opposed to al the things you need to do. Of course, it doesn't help when you fancy yourself a writer-in-the-closet and you spend all your time writing. Also, it NEVER helps that you're lazy on top of all that...

The music quiz is getting some good responses, I think I'll keep it around for a little while. There was a smaller number of responses this week and I was thinking it may have been a washed idea but more than a few of you have e-mailed me and told me you like it, so, I'll keep putting it out there if you keep playing along. That comment page IS coming, I just don't know how soon. From the e-mail I got from Wade, it's apparently not as easy as dropping a bunch of code in an HTML editor and walking away. There's a little more involved. I'll try to work on it soon guys, and thanks for all of your input telling me what you'd like to see...

OHHH hey, don't rub your eyes while eating wasabi peas. Ouch!

I missed the North Florida Highland Games this year. Just like last year. I seem to be missing a LOT of stuff recently. I used to love getting out there and watching all the festivities, listening to the bands. We participated one year, that was fun. I've seen remnants of the old pipe band on-line, it would be neat if they played out somewhere and I could check them out.

Had a great experience on Valentine's Day. I was stuck out of town (it was a Wednesday) but I was working with Heffner that week so not everything was bad. Teresa says Heffner is my secret gay lover and I tell her it can't be much of a secret because his wife says the same thing. If we ever go fishing, I'm looking EVERYWHERE in the tackle box for that note... Anyway, since I was away from my beloved and missing her a lot, we decided to do the next best thing; visit the local strip club across the street from the hotel. Now most of you know I'm not really a 'fan' of strip bars but I won't turn down a chance to drink with my buddy and look at boobs. With it being across the street from the hotel, we can both drink without having to have one of us stay sober enough to drive. There is a good story here, don't get lost. LAST year, Heffner and I were in West Palm Beach for Valentine's Day and we were going to hit the strip club that night. At lunch I got a hold of some bad ribs and got really, really sick and didn't go. This year we are here in Valdosta, Georgia. Ohhh goody, we'll get to see some trailer park boobies tonight. Ugh, I'm already feeling the bile rise in my chest. Heffner is just getting over a serious cold and is still feeling week and a little sick. I ask him if he wants to make this another night and just crash at the hotel tonight. He says he's not going to puss-out on me like I did on him last year.
He says the place doesn't take credit cards and they have no ATM. "A Cash-Only strip club? Surely you jest..." So we walk across the street to the truck-stop conveniently located next to the strip club. It is cold and I left my jacket in the hotel room. The truck-stop's ATM is out of order. It is now VERY cold. We walk back across the street to the hotel, get in the truck and drive to the local quick-stop and get some cash. And with only a $3.50 surcharge! We park back at the hotel and walk back across the street to the stupid bar. We've gone through too much crap to get here, now it is a goal to be attained and accomplished! As we walk through the sparsely occupied parking lot, Heffner says, "There were more cars when I was here last month". We approach the doors and I ask him, "Was the little neon "Open" sign lit last month?" There is a note on the door, "Closed at 7pm on Valentine's Day". It seems it is our fate to stay away from the strip bars on Valentine's Day.

A few weeks ago I was stuck in Fort Myers, Florida. I've been there before but I've never experienced the utter hatred of the elderly as I did this trip. Normally, I'm a nice guy, respecting the age and wisdom of those that made it through this life to a ripe old age. They are to be treated with kindness and a little forgiveness for much of their crankyness. I spent most of the day in traffic around these Q-Tips and I just wanted to get to the hotel, off the road and away from these walking dead imbeciles. So, that's the state of mind I was in when I hit the hotel. Already in a bad mood. There is a line to check in. A long line, 7 or 8 people deep. As I wait (silent and patient I might add) I am listening to the trio of golf-fucks sitting in the lobby. They aren't quite elderly yet but they plaid pants are riding high on their shins, exposing their white shoes... Golfing buddies are talking with their pal in front of me. He is waiting on line to complain about hotel service. It would seem that housekeeping on the second floor has taken to throwing their trash and laundry bundles over the railings and into their carts on the first floor. It sounds genius to me. Why haul the cart upstairs and back down? It seems efficient to me to just drop the bundles five feet to the cart. It's not like this is a high-rise with wind resistance, it's a simple two-story hotel. Anyway, Tiger Woods here wants to explain to the front desk that housekeeping didn't actually hit him with their laundry but they came close and maybe one day they might miss. Nice going dork, thanks for screwing up the system with unnecessary safety tips. Hey, why don't you come work for my company as middle-management?

After a few minutes, there is quite a line growing behind me. A huge Cadillac pulls up to the front door and another old guy gets out and gets in line. His car is blocking the doors. Self-important prick. I shuffle forward and now I'm only four people from the front. Mr. Cadillac pipes up with his complaint from the back of the line, "Boy howdy, what a long line. Why don't they have more people working the desk? Seems to me that everywhere I go in Florida I have to wait in line. Back where I come from this is a nuisance." At that point, some asshole wearing my clothes, bearing a remarkable resemblance to me and doing an incredible impression of my voice says, "Then why don't you get back in your double-parked Caddy and go the hell home, there's no line for that!" The entire lobby goes silent and after a long pause, we all realized that he doesn't have his hearing aid turned up or something. He didn't hear me but most of the room did. That or this guy is much classier that I am and he just ignored me. There were little some stifled laughs and everyone was content to leave it alone. I checked in and went straight up to my room without looking back.
Sometimes I wish I would keep my mouth shut. I depressed myself terribly that night. Not that I lashed out at an old guy. He deserved that. What I was really upset about is that I had my first "Yankee go home" feeling. I've got to get the hell out of the south. I'm starting to turn into one of them.

On the way home that Friday night, I noticed that traffic was heavy but much easier to deal with. That's when I noticed that there were no Q-Tips on the road. Reverse vampires! That's why they all flock to the early-bird specials. Not because they are on a fixed income, not because they are from an older generation that values every penny; they have to get to their coffins before sundown! They sleep away the darkness and are up with the sun, making u-turns in land yachts on one lane roads. Driving 15MPH in the left lane with their right blinkers on looking like they are searching for an address. Putting on lipstick while peering over their knuckles trying to see the road. In general; blocking traffic for miles around. But at night the roads are safe, at night the roads belong to us again. At night the roads belong to the living.

This week I was driving home from Tampa. Tampa traffic is pretty bad. Not the worst I've ever dealt with but ugly at best. I'm trying to get out of the St. Pete/Tampa area before rush hours start. It's 3pm and I don't have much time. Luckily, I get through to north Tampa with little trouble. I'm past most of the traffic and cruising along and as I come up over the ridge, there on the right is a motorcycle cop. He's got his radar gun pointed directly at me and he drops it to his side as I come up on him. I look down and I'm running at 68mph. Just about then I take notice of the line of orange cones denoting a construction zone. Damn, I have no idea what the speed limit is here but in a construction zone I'll bet it's not 70! "Speeding fines doubled in construction zones", how many times have I seen that sign? Damn it! As I pass him, sure enough he's mounting his bike and hitting his lights. I pull over to the right lane, slow down and wait for him to come up behind me. He doesn't. He nails the guy behind me. The very next thing I see is the sped limit sign. 70! I was going UNDER the speed limit. Woohoo for me! I should have known what the speed limit was in that area but I generally flow with traffic. It feels good to see the cops and smile as I drive by, knowing I don't speed much on the highways anymore. In the city? That's a different story. I'm still working on that one but I really keep it between 70 and 75 on these long trips. No reason not to.

Let's see, did anything else interesting happen to me these last few weeks? Oh yeah, I was in a bathroom in South Carolina and while using the facilities, I was forced to stare at the LCD's version of art; bathroom graffiti. Most of it is stick-figures with giant penises and abstract faces with their mouths around them. Some of it is phone numbers or date/times of guys looking for other guys to make that art come true. Others just want me to know that Scott is a pussy. Yeah, Van Gogh has got nothing on these guys huh? So, trying to look anywhere but straight ahead of me, I see the ever-present and much-damaged condom machine. The idea came to me that I have never bought a condom from a truck-stop machine. I wonder, even in my early days when I had no standards and just wanted sex anywhere I could find it; would I ever have lowered my standards enough to be with a woman that would allow you to fuck her using a condom you bought from a grimy machine in a dirty truck-stop bathroom? The thought made me shudder because I know the answer to that question. I'm feeling ill from the memories that have just crept back into my skull. Oh god I am so disgusted with my past-self. Just about the time I was feeling sick from my past transgressions I started to laugh out loud. Something I'm sure the trucker waiting outside the door thought was strange. Anyone who has seen these machines knows that there are always three condoms for sale. "Extra-Thin", "Ribbed French Ticklers" and the unfathomable, "Variety Flavored". The French Tickler is no more. Get this, they are now called "Freedom Ticklers". I couldn't believe my eyes! Perverted, dirty old truckers are patriotic to the end. First "French-fries" and now "French ticklers". What will they do next, Freedom-Poodles? Will they re-dub the audio of the old "Family Affair" show? Will Cissy, Buffy and Jody's butler will be called Mr. Freedom now? I wanted to go get my camera. In retrospect, I should have but it might have been a little weird to go out and get a camera and walk back into the bathroom...

Sunday, 3-4-7

I know, I know, it's been a while. I promise to get something up here soon. It's just been so busy around here. I'm still trying to fit in my entire life into 48 hours a week. It is simply maddening to try to get everything done is such a short time. Lucky for me, Teresa and I found a way to manufacture the time to get out and see a few of our dear ones this weekend. I really needed that. I miss the simple things like, "Hey, let's have dinner with X and Y tonight". Can't do it man, I'm a few hundred miles away. It was refreshing to visit a little bit this weekend and I am all fired up about taking the week and enjoying festival with everyone again. I'm not going to give my soul to work anymore. I'll work harder than the average bear (like usual) but trying to make festival work around the job is over. From now on, the job has to work around the festival. I'm taking the week and that's that!

I have a lot of half written movie reviews and a couple of entries for this blog that date back a few weeks. I promise to get them finished and posted as soon as I can. On other website news, it would appear that the first music quiz was too obscure or too difficult. I'm rethinking the whole idea now. I thought it was a cute idea but maybe I should scrap the whole thing... I put up another clip series this week (MUCH easier I think) and we'll see if you guys respond to it at all. ALSO, Wade has offered his help to me about getting a comments page on the website so you might see that pretty soon too.

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Last Updated: 05/07/07 11:25 p