This is not going to be a long post, at least in contrast to the Christmas post from a couple of days ago. I hope. I never know where my mind's going to lead me, and I'm dangerously well-rested.
First off, a little side note: I'm back in my plain old folding chair. Far, far too much hassle to get the other chair into my bedroom, considering I have to flip it up on its side to get it through the doorway. If anyone has a line on some inexpensive office furniture, specifically a chair that can withstand me, let me know. Otherwise, I'll just save my pennies 'n dimes and get a nicer chair. My old one broke rather quickly, yes, but you pay $35, you get a $35 chair.
Has anyone noticed I'm terrible at the art of the segue?
I was thinking briefly about the amazing way we take technology for granted so quickly. I hear people complain about cell-phone service so much, and how this service is better than that, and they're paying $x a month which is way too much... and I can't help but think back 12 years ago or so. My dad had a truck phone -- yeah, you remember those, a phone which was plugged in to your car -- and to call it, it was a long-distance call. Even though it was a 602 number, you had to dial 1-602 then the number, which was 377-6861. (Of course, that was back before 480 and 623... mind-bending to think back that far, right?) It was some ridiculous amount per minute, and only got good reception in spots around the city. Now, with the way things have advanced... I don't know. Maybe I'm just being picky.
But anyway, I didn't think about it for too long. I'm pretty sure that after a few seconds, my mind wandered to bacon or something else.
Anyone who's been outside tonight will tell you it's BITTER FRIGGIN' COLD out there. I swung by the track to drop off some paperwork in the office, and at 10:20 PM it was 37? according to a thermometer on a lightpole in the parking lot. For all practical purposes, it's the same temperature at the airport as it is at the track, too, so like I said, it's BITTER FRIGGIN' COLD. (Disclaimer: RELATIVELY SPEAKING. All you snow dwellers keep quiet. When, in June, I say it's 95? out "and that's not so bad," you'll be complaining because you're sweating miserably in 81? weather. Ha! Take THAT, humid-climate persons!) It's not like it was a few weeks ago, when I wrote about the odd conditions outside. It's crystal clear out, and the air's light and dry. There's scarcely a breeze, even. It's just... well, you know. And that means it's probably going to be brisk tomorrow, too, which is OK... I've got Apache duty, so I can enjoy the nice weather. So long as it's nice, and not BITTER FRIGGIN' COLD.
I'm happy to report I've almost mastered my stutter. It only manifests itself when I'm nervous, but I've been working on it. Oddly enough, it hasn't been as much of a problem since I started working with Diego after I moved back to Phoenix. Diego's been working for us for a while now, but his grasp on English is shaky at best. My Spanish isn't great, but I can put things together combining what words I know with syntax and inflection and pretty much understand what he's saying. Anyway, in an odd twist, working so hard on putting phonetic sounds to words in my mind has helped me speak more clearly myself since my mind also processes my own speech more quickly, and I can anticipate what I'm saying and form sounds more quickly. And, by proxy, it has helped to eliminate my nasty stutter, too.
The stutter occurs because of another nervousness-spawned problem; I speak too quickly as if I'm trying to fill every empty space with speech when I'm nervous. Basically, when I get to thinking too fast, my mouth can't keep up, and words crash into each other. Tonight I was at dinner, and I was doing a darn good job of spacing my words well, and moreover just keeping my mouth shut. If I felt a stumble coming, I managed to slow down just enough so that the words unfolded cleanly. Then, it happened: Gelly Roll. You know, those neat pens with the awesome-looking ink? Not "Jelly Roll"... Gelly with a G. Okay, so they sound the same, but so what? Anyway, I think the sentence went something like, "It was one of those Gelly Roll pens," and somewhere in there a word got derailed, and it came out, "It was one of those Gellelly, lellegel... uh..."
*shrug* Oh well. I inhaled and started the sentence over. I said I was getting better -- I didn't say I had mastered it yet. I'm not sure if the approach is to speak more slowly, or just perhaps try and not be a big ball of nerves.
Okay, I'm out of stamina. It's sure fun to make these entries. I don't know why I don't feel like doing it more often, but it is what it is. Usually I'm just too tired, and I know once I get a head of steam built up, I'm in for the long haul, even if I start to get sleepy.
Saturday, December 27
Thursday, December 25
This is going to be a long post, one way or another. Why, you ask? Because I went to such great lengths to get comfortable.
I need a new computer chair. The one I bought when I moved in is pretty much shot, due to my propensity to lean back and prop my feet up on my desk. This wouldn't be a problem, if only I hadn't bought the cheapest chair at OfficeMax. So, anyway, when the old one gave up, I didn't have the loose fundage to go out and buy a nice new chair, so I bought a padded folding chair for $14 at Costco. Not bad, really, except that (1) I can't lean back and prop my feet up, and (2) over long periods of time, it makes my coccyx act up. (Of course, that's a whole 'nuther story, about how two years ago I dislocated my tailbone... now if I sit a certain way for too long, it'll slide out of place and hurt like a sum'bitch until I can pop it back in. What? You didn't know what a "coccyx" was? Lay THAT over a Triple Word Score!)
Anyhow, I've been thinking about blogging all day, what with this being Christmas and all. (Sidebar: insert sound of sleigh bells here... Merry Christmas, all! [in my best Cockney accent] "an' God bless us, ev'ry one!") *cough* okay... So, where was I? Oh, so I've been running this post through my head all day, and I figured it was going to be lengthy, but sitting in my little chair for that long didn't appeal to me, so I dragged the big chair that matches my sofa in from the living room into my bedroom here, just for the purpose of doing this blog entry. I can't leave it in here, because it takes up too much space, but for right now, I'm pretty danged comfortable. I'm leaned back, with my feet way up on the desk, and the keyboard is braced between my left leg and right knee as I type. Oh yes. I am the KING of lazy.
And that was just the intro!
I was brutally attacked outside Fry's yesterday. Yeah, a tree hit me over the head. I was walking in from the parking lot at the Fry's on 61st Street and Thomas (those of you from my neighborhood will correctly remember that as a Smitty's), and I stepped up onto the sidewalk and... CRACK! I saw flashbulbs go off, and I heard a sound like a baseball being sent skyward by Barry Bonds. I took a few more steps, stumbled, then realized that, hey, that sound came from my head! I kind of stumbled into a sitting position against the soda machines, and took stock of the pain beginning to filter in from my skull. I'd stepped up from the pavement onto the curb, and apparently right into a low-hanging tree branch, guessing from the little piece of bark in my hair. Amazingly, the branch didn't give AT ALL. I'd caught it right on a knot where they'd cut another branch off, and I absorbed all of the force from the impact. I didn't see any blood on my fingers, but there was already a jagged-shaped welt forming on my scalp, so I called my mom and asked if she could come down right quick and take a look at my head (they're on winter break, so she was home, and I'd just come from there after doing bookwork, so I knew she wasn't busy, thankfully). It hurt so bad at first, and I'd hit the branch so hard, I figured for sure I'd fractured my skull. However, my mom poked around on it for a minute (to my muted screams of "MUST YOU PROD THAT HARD?!") and reassured me that she didn't think it was broken. She said it would take a lot of force for me to fracture it just walking, to which I told her I think that the tree was actually one of those trees from Lord of the Rings and that it swung a branch down and cracked me over the head. Maybe. Anyway, that was yesterday around 2:00 pm, and now 32 hours later, it's still tender but the headache has subsided somewhat.
So, the moral of the story... I'm a clumsy ass. Still.
So, it being Christmas and all (cue sleigh bells again), I've been mulling over a lot of things. I figured I could fit these themes in to go along with a verse from The Christmas Song.
Here we are, as in olden days
I was thinking earlier today that Christmas seems a lot less thrilling than it did when I was younger. I had the Santa thing figured out at a much younger age than I let my parents believe; I was maybe six or seven, but they had so much fun trying to keep it all secretive, I didn't want to spoil it for them, nor my sister. (We had to break the news to her this year that, now that she was out living on her own, Santa wasn't actually real. It was tragic. ... I kid, I kid.) Anyway, I've always had fun shopping for people, but this year it didn't have that usual holiday zing. I found myself getting tired of 99.9 KEZ's all-holiday all-the-time music that my sister insisted on leaving on in the kennel. But things started to pick up a little bit when I started the actual gift-giving. In conjunction with another friend, we were able to successfully surprise someone else with a new bookcase, which was apparently just what they'd been wanting. And then, earlier this evening, I was over at my parents' house, with my mom, Zachary, Olivia, and her boyfriend. (My dad's up in West Virginia, and he figured it would be too much hassle to fly in and out just to be home for a night or so, so we sent him his gifts up there. Kind of a downer, having the family apart this year, but we'll get by.) Sitting there, unwrapping gifts, with a stocking-full of goodies, I finally regained the spirit I'd been missing all season. Even after my brother successfully pranked me by topping off my stocking with two half-used rolls of Scotch Tape, a tube of shower gel he's had for I don't know how long, one (singular) McDollar, and a CD I lent him two weeks ago. The little shitbag. I've taught him well in the ways of the well-executed joke. Anyhow, I got plenty of neat stuff this year. I got the Roaring Fork cookbook, autographed by head chef Robert McGrath himself, as well as a gig bag for my tuba. (Gig bag = soft case, for those unknowing. I hadn't had a case for The Beast all year, and this one comes with backpack-like carrying straps, even. Too nifty.) I had thought to myself as I was opening up one of my last gifts that I hadn't gotten anything where it was going to be something relegated to the shelf in my closet, if you get my drift. Then, blammo! I unwrap a fire-engine-red Wheeling Island Casino pullover fleece made of the same non-insulating, non-water-resistant, non-comfortable 100% polyester material as the other pullover I recently got rid of. Bleh. Oh well... you can't win 'em all.
Happy golden days of lore
I don't know. Nothing for this one. I would like to point out that, since I've started writing this post, I've gotten two phone calls, and it's quite a hassle to climb out of this chair and over my bed to get to it. Comfortable, yes, but the chair's not staying.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more
In the past two weeks I've talked with several people I'd been out of touch with for a while. Jeff and Romo, a couple of the guys from the track in Tucson, popped up this past week. Romo was in town last Friday and dropped by the track for a few minutes the night of the puppy derby stake, and Jeff called me last Monday and asked me if I'll be working New Year's Eve, because he'd like me to go to the Fiesta Bowl Block Party with him and his friends. (I'm thinking about that one. It sounds bad to say this, but I'm going to wait and see if anything else comes up first. The Block Party has never interested me that much.) And then, out of the clear blue sky, Kassi called me last Sunday while I was out at Apache. Talk about unexpected. I hadn't talked to her in months, basically since, well, the last time I'd talked about it on here. I bumped into her one time on AIM in August, and she'd had a rough time. She'd moved to Quartzsite to live with her grandmother. My Thanksgiving phone call to her cell phone went unanswered, and the subsequent voicemail I left garnered no return call, either. Anyway, like I said, she called me last weekend, said she'd gotten my message after all but had forgotten to call back, and that she was back in town and things were going a lot better for her. She'd met a guy, been on a couple dates, and things were going well, there, too. We chatted for a little while but I was fairly busy, so I didn't have long to talk, but I told her I was happy for her, which I am. I never wished her any ill will after all that happened way-back-when (early May, I guess), and I'm glad fate smiled upon her a little bit.
Through the years, we all will be together
If the fates allow
This one's a little deeper, a little less about current events. For some reason, I found myself thinking about the future ("Through the years", anyway... I don't know if the rest of that line fits) today while I was trying to take a nap after working this morning. I'm 22 now, and better than 2/3 of the way to 23. And yet, in a sense I don't feel any older than I did when I was 17 or 18. My parents celebrated their 25th anniversary a month ago tomorrow, and were 21 when they were married, 23 when I was born.
I have a hard time picturing myself as a father anytime in the near future. Now, I didn't say I don't want to have children, but... first things first, you know? I haven't even had a serious, in-depth, past-high-school-stage relationship yet. Come to think of it, I guess that's one place where I feel different than I did when I was in 12th grade... I finally feel like I'm ready to... date? Is that the right word? Date still sounds kinda high-schooly. But I've got the right concept in my head, even if I can't explain it totally correctly.
I guess in the end, it's all about gaining experience as you go along. Eight years ago today, Christmas when I was 14, I couldn't have ever imagined driving myself around everywhere; I was deathly afraid of driving. Six years ago today, when I was 16, I was working full-time at the kennel and a drivin' fool, but I couldn't have ever imagined myself moving away from home; I'd lived a fairly sheltered childhood, with not a lot of friends and even less going out with friends. Three years ago today, when I was 19, I was up from Tucson for the holiday and figured that Tucson was where I was going to be for a long time. A year ago today, I already knew I was coming back to Phoenix (we'd figured that out in September). A year and four months ago today, in August of last year, I was at my lowest point. I weighed 350 pounds and was... well, let's just leave it at "depressed". (You can see the photo evidence on my bio page.) Anyhow, not long thereafter, we figured out we were closing down Tucson, and the thought of coming back to Phoenix got my fire rekindled. By Christmas I'd started to lose some weight, and by the end of January this year I was down to 280, which is when the other picture on my bio page was taken. I haven't lost much more weight -- I've been down to 275 but never over 282 -- I seem to be losing fat and gaining muscle a little bit. The casual observer of me (um... that sounds kind of weird) probably wouldn't notice any changes, but I have, like, arm muscles now. Biceps, right? What an alien concept to me, having biceps I can actually flex. And when I lay flat on my bed, I can see my ribcage. Dude! It may not seem like a lot to most people, but after living with flab for as long as I have, these are big developments for me.
I might still have my down moments -- see the last post -- but I don't think everything's guaranteed to be milk 'n cookies in any walk of life. So I guess the point of this segment is, I can sit here and worry about the future all I want to, but I ought to have learned by now that whatever's going to happen is going to happen. I just have to play the game as it comes along.
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
I think I'm all "deeped" out. This segment just deals with the fact that I didn't decorate for Christmas at all this year. *shrug* I haven't in any of the past 3 years I was in Tucson, either, but under the guise that I was going to be in Phoenix for Christmas, anyway. Danny, Pete, and I decorated the kennel in Tucson last year, though. A couple of people asked me if I was going to get a tree, and I said no. Why not?, they asked. Well, I wasn't going to have any guests over at any point, so why bother? I know it's Christmas. Why put up decorations only I'm going to see, then eventually I'll have to take down? I dunno. Maybe next year.
And have yourself
A merry little Christmas now
That's about it. Kudos if you stuck around 'til the very end. I can get pretty verbose, you know. But I hope you had a merry Christmas.
I need a new computer chair. The one I bought when I moved in is pretty much shot, due to my propensity to lean back and prop my feet up on my desk. This wouldn't be a problem, if only I hadn't bought the cheapest chair at OfficeMax. So, anyway, when the old one gave up, I didn't have the loose fundage to go out and buy a nice new chair, so I bought a padded folding chair for $14 at Costco. Not bad, really, except that (1) I can't lean back and prop my feet up, and (2) over long periods of time, it makes my coccyx act up. (Of course, that's a whole 'nuther story, about how two years ago I dislocated my tailbone... now if I sit a certain way for too long, it'll slide out of place and hurt like a sum'bitch until I can pop it back in. What? You didn't know what a "coccyx" was? Lay THAT over a Triple Word Score!)
Anyhow, I've been thinking about blogging all day, what with this being Christmas and all. (Sidebar: insert sound of sleigh bells here... Merry Christmas, all! [in my best Cockney accent] "an' God bless us, ev'ry one!") *cough* okay... So, where was I? Oh, so I've been running this post through my head all day, and I figured it was going to be lengthy, but sitting in my little chair for that long didn't appeal to me, so I dragged the big chair that matches my sofa in from the living room into my bedroom here, just for the purpose of doing this blog entry. I can't leave it in here, because it takes up too much space, but for right now, I'm pretty danged comfortable. I'm leaned back, with my feet way up on the desk, and the keyboard is braced between my left leg and right knee as I type. Oh yes. I am the KING of lazy.
And that was just the intro!
I was brutally attacked outside Fry's yesterday. Yeah, a tree hit me over the head. I was walking in from the parking lot at the Fry's on 61st Street and Thomas (those of you from my neighborhood will correctly remember that as a Smitty's), and I stepped up onto the sidewalk and... CRACK! I saw flashbulbs go off, and I heard a sound like a baseball being sent skyward by Barry Bonds. I took a few more steps, stumbled, then realized that, hey, that sound came from my head! I kind of stumbled into a sitting position against the soda machines, and took stock of the pain beginning to filter in from my skull. I'd stepped up from the pavement onto the curb, and apparently right into a low-hanging tree branch, guessing from the little piece of bark in my hair. Amazingly, the branch didn't give AT ALL. I'd caught it right on a knot where they'd cut another branch off, and I absorbed all of the force from the impact. I didn't see any blood on my fingers, but there was already a jagged-shaped welt forming on my scalp, so I called my mom and asked if she could come down right quick and take a look at my head (they're on winter break, so she was home, and I'd just come from there after doing bookwork, so I knew she wasn't busy, thankfully). It hurt so bad at first, and I'd hit the branch so hard, I figured for sure I'd fractured my skull. However, my mom poked around on it for a minute (to my muted screams of "MUST YOU PROD THAT HARD?!") and reassured me that she didn't think it was broken. She said it would take a lot of force for me to fracture it just walking, to which I told her I think that the tree was actually one of those trees from Lord of the Rings and that it swung a branch down and cracked me over the head. Maybe. Anyway, that was yesterday around 2:00 pm, and now 32 hours later, it's still tender but the headache has subsided somewhat.
So, the moral of the story... I'm a clumsy ass. Still.
So, it being Christmas and all (cue sleigh bells again), I've been mulling over a lot of things. I figured I could fit these themes in to go along with a verse from The Christmas Song.
Here we are, as in olden days
I was thinking earlier today that Christmas seems a lot less thrilling than it did when I was younger. I had the Santa thing figured out at a much younger age than I let my parents believe; I was maybe six or seven, but they had so much fun trying to keep it all secretive, I didn't want to spoil it for them, nor my sister. (We had to break the news to her this year that, now that she was out living on her own, Santa wasn't actually real. It was tragic. ... I kid, I kid.) Anyway, I've always had fun shopping for people, but this year it didn't have that usual holiday zing. I found myself getting tired of 99.9 KEZ's all-holiday all-the-time music that my sister insisted on leaving on in the kennel. But things started to pick up a little bit when I started the actual gift-giving. In conjunction with another friend, we were able to successfully surprise someone else with a new bookcase, which was apparently just what they'd been wanting. And then, earlier this evening, I was over at my parents' house, with my mom, Zachary, Olivia, and her boyfriend. (My dad's up in West Virginia, and he figured it would be too much hassle to fly in and out just to be home for a night or so, so we sent him his gifts up there. Kind of a downer, having the family apart this year, but we'll get by.) Sitting there, unwrapping gifts, with a stocking-full of goodies, I finally regained the spirit I'd been missing all season. Even after my brother successfully pranked me by topping off my stocking with two half-used rolls of Scotch Tape, a tube of shower gel he's had for I don't know how long, one (singular) McDollar, and a CD I lent him two weeks ago. The little shitbag. I've taught him well in the ways of the well-executed joke. Anyhow, I got plenty of neat stuff this year. I got the Roaring Fork cookbook, autographed by head chef Robert McGrath himself, as well as a gig bag for my tuba. (Gig bag = soft case, for those unknowing. I hadn't had a case for The Beast all year, and this one comes with backpack-like carrying straps, even. Too nifty.) I had thought to myself as I was opening up one of my last gifts that I hadn't gotten anything where it was going to be something relegated to the shelf in my closet, if you get my drift. Then, blammo! I unwrap a fire-engine-red Wheeling Island Casino pullover fleece made of the same non-insulating, non-water-resistant, non-comfortable 100% polyester material as the other pullover I recently got rid of. Bleh. Oh well... you can't win 'em all.
Happy golden days of lore
I don't know. Nothing for this one. I would like to point out that, since I've started writing this post, I've gotten two phone calls, and it's quite a hassle to climb out of this chair and over my bed to get to it. Comfortable, yes, but the chair's not staying.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more
In the past two weeks I've talked with several people I'd been out of touch with for a while. Jeff and Romo, a couple of the guys from the track in Tucson, popped up this past week. Romo was in town last Friday and dropped by the track for a few minutes the night of the puppy derby stake, and Jeff called me last Monday and asked me if I'll be working New Year's Eve, because he'd like me to go to the Fiesta Bowl Block Party with him and his friends. (I'm thinking about that one. It sounds bad to say this, but I'm going to wait and see if anything else comes up first. The Block Party has never interested me that much.) And then, out of the clear blue sky, Kassi called me last Sunday while I was out at Apache. Talk about unexpected. I hadn't talked to her in months, basically since, well, the last time I'd talked about it on here. I bumped into her one time on AIM in August, and she'd had a rough time. She'd moved to Quartzsite to live with her grandmother. My Thanksgiving phone call to her cell phone went unanswered, and the subsequent voicemail I left garnered no return call, either. Anyway, like I said, she called me last weekend, said she'd gotten my message after all but had forgotten to call back, and that she was back in town and things were going a lot better for her. She'd met a guy, been on a couple dates, and things were going well, there, too. We chatted for a little while but I was fairly busy, so I didn't have long to talk, but I told her I was happy for her, which I am. I never wished her any ill will after all that happened way-back-when (early May, I guess), and I'm glad fate smiled upon her a little bit.
Through the years, we all will be together
If the fates allow
This one's a little deeper, a little less about current events. For some reason, I found myself thinking about the future ("Through the years", anyway... I don't know if the rest of that line fits) today while I was trying to take a nap after working this morning. I'm 22 now, and better than 2/3 of the way to 23. And yet, in a sense I don't feel any older than I did when I was 17 or 18. My parents celebrated their 25th anniversary a month ago tomorrow, and were 21 when they were married, 23 when I was born.
I have a hard time picturing myself as a father anytime in the near future. Now, I didn't say I don't want to have children, but... first things first, you know? I haven't even had a serious, in-depth, past-high-school-stage relationship yet. Come to think of it, I guess that's one place where I feel different than I did when I was in 12th grade... I finally feel like I'm ready to... date? Is that the right word? Date still sounds kinda high-schooly. But I've got the right concept in my head, even if I can't explain it totally correctly.
I guess in the end, it's all about gaining experience as you go along. Eight years ago today, Christmas when I was 14, I couldn't have ever imagined driving myself around everywhere; I was deathly afraid of driving. Six years ago today, when I was 16, I was working full-time at the kennel and a drivin' fool, but I couldn't have ever imagined myself moving away from home; I'd lived a fairly sheltered childhood, with not a lot of friends and even less going out with friends. Three years ago today, when I was 19, I was up from Tucson for the holiday and figured that Tucson was where I was going to be for a long time. A year ago today, I already knew I was coming back to Phoenix (we'd figured that out in September). A year and four months ago today, in August of last year, I was at my lowest point. I weighed 350 pounds and was... well, let's just leave it at "depressed". (You can see the photo evidence on my bio page.) Anyhow, not long thereafter, we figured out we were closing down Tucson, and the thought of coming back to Phoenix got my fire rekindled. By Christmas I'd started to lose some weight, and by the end of January this year I was down to 280, which is when the other picture on my bio page was taken. I haven't lost much more weight -- I've been down to 275 but never over 282 -- I seem to be losing fat and gaining muscle a little bit. The casual observer of me (um... that sounds kind of weird) probably wouldn't notice any changes, but I have, like, arm muscles now. Biceps, right? What an alien concept to me, having biceps I can actually flex. And when I lay flat on my bed, I can see my ribcage. Dude! It may not seem like a lot to most people, but after living with flab for as long as I have, these are big developments for me.
I might still have my down moments -- see the last post -- but I don't think everything's guaranteed to be milk 'n cookies in any walk of life. So I guess the point of this segment is, I can sit here and worry about the future all I want to, but I ought to have learned by now that whatever's going to happen is going to happen. I just have to play the game as it comes along.
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
I think I'm all "deeped" out. This segment just deals with the fact that I didn't decorate for Christmas at all this year. *shrug* I haven't in any of the past 3 years I was in Tucson, either, but under the guise that I was going to be in Phoenix for Christmas, anyway. Danny, Pete, and I decorated the kennel in Tucson last year, though. A couple of people asked me if I was going to get a tree, and I said no. Why not?, they asked. Well, I wasn't going to have any guests over at any point, so why bother? I know it's Christmas. Why put up decorations only I'm going to see, then eventually I'll have to take down? I dunno. Maybe next year.
And have yourself
A merry little Christmas now
That's about it. Kudos if you stuck around 'til the very end. I can get pretty verbose, you know. But I hope you had a merry Christmas.
Friday, December 19
I wish I'd had a camera tonight, so I could have at least had a picture and not felt like I dressed up for nothing.
Had a stakes final tonight, and we ran 3rd and 7th. That's a decent enough showing, but it's not a win, and thus I don't get my picture taken. All the careful preparation I put into getting my outfit just right -- black shirt, black pants, gold tie, gray jacket -- down the drain just like that, after about 15 minutes. I drove around for a while, not feeling like going home, until finally I grabbed a strip wrap and a cherry diet at Sonic and drifted towards my apartment.
I guess in spite of how goofy I generally feel I look all the time, I feel different when I'm wearing a suit. It's almost a feeling of relevance, like for a few brief minutes I can pretend I don't work at a job on the very fringes of social acceptance. Like for a few minutes, someone might care how I looked tonight.
Open question: If, for $27, you could be someone else for 2½ minutes, would you do it? Maybe I'll explain that more next time I post. Maybe.
I'm probably coming across as pretty down and out. I guess I am, somewhat. As much as I may irrationally hope, you can't win 'em all. That doesn't stop me from trying to, though. At least the lady whose dog won was very deserving of it. I'd probably be a lot more grouchy if someone I didn't like beat me, but Maxine Willis winning it... I can deal with that. She had her daughter and a few of her grandchildren out, and they all went out for the picture. It was a pretty decent chunk of change; winner took $6000 in bonus money plus regular money for winning a top grade race, spiraling down to last place taking $750 in bonus money. And since Maxine owns her own dogs, she keeps all of it for herself. Anyway, I'm happy for her.
I don't have a whole lot else to talk about. I'm not getting nearly enough rest of late. Hate to admit it, but spending two or three hours a day at my parents' house doing bookwork on top of my usual workweek is already starting to kick my ass. And in playing the part of the benevolent boss, I'm working Christmas morning. *shrug* If I were a prick, I'd've ignored the requests of some of my employees and just scheduled them in. As it is, I usually have Thursdays off anyway. *shrug again* Oh well. Hopefully they remember things like this down the road when they're mad at me.
Olivia's out cold with the flu. She's been sick since Tuesday night. She tried to work tonight, as the original deal was for her and Mark to swap Thursday for Friday, meaning Mark picked up for her Thursday and she was supposed to work for hhim tonight. She came out, and lasted about 75 minutes in the cold before she got violently ill again, but Mark offered to let her go home and do it himself since he was at the track to watch the big race anyway. So, she's going to urgent care in the morning, which means that she probably won't be working tomorrow at all, which means I get to, since Mark's doing Apache all day and won't be able to do the races at Phoenix at night. So, somewhere along the line, I lost most of my time off this week.
I don't know why I blab on and on about work on here. I'm sure nobody gives a shit. But basically, my desire to write about the weather has taken a holiday. If I could loose my brain from the fog it's in right now, I might feel like being more poetic. Instead, I'm going to go eat that strip wrap.
Come to think of it, maybe I won't. You ever get to the point where you're not really tasting the food you eat? Like you're just eating because your body says it's time to, but everything just kind of has the same vague taste? That's kind oif what I feel like. I'm going to go eat that sandwich, but I might as well eat a dish towel.
Or maybe I'll just go to bed and wake up tomorrow, hoping for a brighter day. Theoretically speaking. Brighter would mean warmer, and that's unfavorable.
Had a stakes final tonight, and we ran 3rd and 7th. That's a decent enough showing, but it's not a win, and thus I don't get my picture taken. All the careful preparation I put into getting my outfit just right -- black shirt, black pants, gold tie, gray jacket -- down the drain just like that, after about 15 minutes. I drove around for a while, not feeling like going home, until finally I grabbed a strip wrap and a cherry diet at Sonic and drifted towards my apartment.
I guess in spite of how goofy I generally feel I look all the time, I feel different when I'm wearing a suit. It's almost a feeling of relevance, like for a few brief minutes I can pretend I don't work at a job on the very fringes of social acceptance. Like for a few minutes, someone might care how I looked tonight.
Open question: If, for $27, you could be someone else for 2½ minutes, would you do it? Maybe I'll explain that more next time I post. Maybe.
I'm probably coming across as pretty down and out. I guess I am, somewhat. As much as I may irrationally hope, you can't win 'em all. That doesn't stop me from trying to, though. At least the lady whose dog won was very deserving of it. I'd probably be a lot more grouchy if someone I didn't like beat me, but Maxine Willis winning it... I can deal with that. She had her daughter and a few of her grandchildren out, and they all went out for the picture. It was a pretty decent chunk of change; winner took $6000 in bonus money plus regular money for winning a top grade race, spiraling down to last place taking $750 in bonus money. And since Maxine owns her own dogs, she keeps all of it for herself. Anyway, I'm happy for her.
I don't have a whole lot else to talk about. I'm not getting nearly enough rest of late. Hate to admit it, but spending two or three hours a day at my parents' house doing bookwork on top of my usual workweek is already starting to kick my ass. And in playing the part of the benevolent boss, I'm working Christmas morning. *shrug* If I were a prick, I'd've ignored the requests of some of my employees and just scheduled them in. As it is, I usually have Thursdays off anyway. *shrug again* Oh well. Hopefully they remember things like this down the road when they're mad at me.
Olivia's out cold with the flu. She's been sick since Tuesday night. She tried to work tonight, as the original deal was for her and Mark to swap Thursday for Friday, meaning Mark picked up for her Thursday and she was supposed to work for hhim tonight. She came out, and lasted about 75 minutes in the cold before she got violently ill again, but Mark offered to let her go home and do it himself since he was at the track to watch the big race anyway. So, she's going to urgent care in the morning, which means that she probably won't be working tomorrow at all, which means I get to, since Mark's doing Apache all day and won't be able to do the races at Phoenix at night. So, somewhere along the line, I lost most of my time off this week.
I don't know why I blab on and on about work on here. I'm sure nobody gives a shit. But basically, my desire to write about the weather has taken a holiday. If I could loose my brain from the fog it's in right now, I might feel like being more poetic. Instead, I'm going to go eat that strip wrap.
Come to think of it, maybe I won't. You ever get to the point where you're not really tasting the food you eat? Like you're just eating because your body says it's time to, but everything just kind of has the same vague taste? That's kind oif what I feel like. I'm going to go eat that sandwich, but I might as well eat a dish towel.
Or maybe I'll just go to bed and wake up tomorrow, hoping for a brighter day. Theoretically speaking. Brighter would mean warmer, and that's unfavorable.
Thursday, December 11
Winter has arrived
It rained tonight, and it was definitely the first winter rain of the season. You can tell because you can hardly smell any creosote in the air. As I've discussed before, with those summer storms, you can smell creosote for hours before the storm actually hits, and for hours afterwards. Now, there's just kind of a dank weight to the air. You know what it feels like? If it were foggy outside, that's what it would feel like. Except it isn't. In fact, it's starkly and eerily clear. And quiet. I got out of my truck just now, and there was hardly a sound to be heard, save for water dripping off the end of the covered-parking structure. Well, there may have been the faint rumble of a jet from the airport, but that was it. The roads were empty on the way home.
And it's friggin' cold, too. It's going to be a cold friggin' morning, maybe even foggy if the conditions hold. But definitely cold.
Anyway, nothing much to talk about as far as myself. My dad's halfway to West Virginia, spending the night in Kansas, so I guess I'm officially in charge here in Phoenix. So begins what could be one of the best years of my life, I guess, if all goes well. We'll see.
It rained tonight, and it was definitely the first winter rain of the season. You can tell because you can hardly smell any creosote in the air. As I've discussed before, with those summer storms, you can smell creosote for hours before the storm actually hits, and for hours afterwards. Now, there's just kind of a dank weight to the air. You know what it feels like? If it were foggy outside, that's what it would feel like. Except it isn't. In fact, it's starkly and eerily clear. And quiet. I got out of my truck just now, and there was hardly a sound to be heard, save for water dripping off the end of the covered-parking structure. Well, there may have been the faint rumble of a jet from the airport, but that was it. The roads were empty on the way home.
And it's friggin' cold, too. It's going to be a cold friggin' morning, maybe even foggy if the conditions hold. But definitely cold.
Anyway, nothing much to talk about as far as myself. My dad's halfway to West Virginia, spending the night in Kansas, so I guess I'm officially in charge here in Phoenix. So begins what could be one of the best years of my life, I guess, if all goes well. We'll see.
Saturday, December 6
Restraint
LiveJournal: Current Mood: :-|
That's the best way I can put it. :-|. There's such a war going on in my head right now, but I can't talk about it here. I'm seriously considering starting another blog, and writing it under a pseudonym, just so I can put these thoughts to paper.
It's not about the night out I just had, in case my friends I was with are reading this. That was fun. I've just got plenty on my plate right now. I'm staring the future in the face as we speak, since my dad is leaving on Wednesday (yeah, Wednesday!!) for West Virginia. That was about two and a half weeks earlier than I'd been figuring on, although that's not to say I'm not ready for it. It was just kinda short notice, is all. So I'll be handling things on this end of the continent for... well, we're not sure how long. Nine months? A year? Something in there, basically until, I suppose, he finds someone he fully, fully trusts to hold down the fort. Could be me, eventually... but I hope not. Although the pay would be unfathomable if I were training in Wheeling, I don't want to leave here. Not with everything else I have going on. ...... Okay, so, yeah, I don't have THAT much going on. Just my friends. But that's enough to make me want to stay; I don't want to leave my friends agaiin.
So that's just one thing. There's more stuff, but I'll keep it to myself. I learned the hard way that showing all of your cards tends to offend some people, especially if they're involved in said cards.
So it's actually 2:00 am, not 11:46 as my timestamp will claim. I've just got a lot to think about, things that could alter the course of the rest of my life. I dunno. I get too nervous thinking about big weighty decisions like that. So far, I've done OK just letting the chips fall where they may. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
If you should be bloghopping here at Blogger for some reason, and you come across a blog that has a writing style similar to mine, but seems to involve a whole lot more complaining about stuff, well, it might be me. It goes back to my need to see stuff written out just to get it off my head. Even if I tell no one about The Other Blog, just the fact that it's written down somewhere would help me considerably.
LiveJournal: Current Mood: :-|
That's the best way I can put it. :-|. There's such a war going on in my head right now, but I can't talk about it here. I'm seriously considering starting another blog, and writing it under a pseudonym, just so I can put these thoughts to paper.
It's not about the night out I just had, in case my friends I was with are reading this. That was fun. I've just got plenty on my plate right now. I'm staring the future in the face as we speak, since my dad is leaving on Wednesday (yeah, Wednesday!!) for West Virginia. That was about two and a half weeks earlier than I'd been figuring on, although that's not to say I'm not ready for it. It was just kinda short notice, is all. So I'll be handling things on this end of the continent for... well, we're not sure how long. Nine months? A year? Something in there, basically until, I suppose, he finds someone he fully, fully trusts to hold down the fort. Could be me, eventually... but I hope not. Although the pay would be unfathomable if I were training in Wheeling, I don't want to leave here. Not with everything else I have going on. ...... Okay, so, yeah, I don't have THAT much going on. Just my friends. But that's enough to make me want to stay; I don't want to leave my friends agaiin.
So that's just one thing. There's more stuff, but I'll keep it to myself. I learned the hard way that showing all of your cards tends to offend some people, especially if they're involved in said cards.
So it's actually 2:00 am, not 11:46 as my timestamp will claim. I've just got a lot to think about, things that could alter the course of the rest of my life. I dunno. I get too nervous thinking about big weighty decisions like that. So far, I've done OK just letting the chips fall where they may. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
If you should be bloghopping here at Blogger for some reason, and you come across a blog that has a writing style similar to mine, but seems to involve a whole lot more complaining about stuff, well, it might be me. It goes back to my need to see stuff written out just to get it off my head. Even if I tell no one about The Other Blog, just the fact that it's written down somewhere would help me considerably.
Wednesday, December 3
Guess what guess what guess what guess what??
It's now officially Christmas season. Want to know why? They've posted the information for Phoenix on the TubaChristmas website! I have literally been waiting all year for this. As many of you know, I finally got a tuba for Christmas last year, after having to rent one to play in Tucson's TC appearance last December. I've been waiting anxiously, checking the TC site every so often like a kid waiting to find out if he got in the same class as his friend in elementary school. And, ta-da! The Phoenix TubaChristmas is Saturday the 13th, at 6:00 pm at Town Lake.
Anyway, it's been a pretty good friggin' week. When last you guys saw me, it was six nights ago, and I was bemoaning what I thought was the start to a crappy weekend.
Bzatt!
I mentioned in the post before last that opening day at Apache was the day after Thanksgiving. The season has 20 weeks, each week including Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday, with the exception of opening weekend, which has a Friday instead of a Wednesday (to capitalize on the 4-day weekend). So, last season (last week of Nov. thru last week of March) we had 48 wins total and finished 8th in the standings out of 11 kennels. Not such a great showing, but then again, we were divided in force at the beginning of last season with me still in Tucson.
Anyhow, we'd set out to serve notice at Apache this year. In fact, our goal is to be top kennel in Wheeling, Phoenix, and Apache when Apache closes in the first week of April. (The seasons in Wheeling and Phoenix start in January 1. And, of course, we run Wichita, but it'd just be nice to have a good year there; top kennel isn't realistic there since there's a couple of kennels that run their absolute best dogs whereas Wichita is our 3rd string.) I had hoped for, say, three wins a day, for a total of 9. Well, we had 6 Friday alone. I figured, well, great, but I don't think we can keep up the pace all weekend. No, we couldn't; we just had 5 wins each on Saturday and Sunday. Better yet, there was only 10 races Sunday, so by percentage (there's usually 15), that would have been like winning 7 on a regular day. Anyway, that gave us 16 for the weekend. If you're counting on your abacus at home, that sets us on a pace to beat last season's win total -- before New Year's.
Damn!
And the best part is, the kennel isn't even at full strength yet. We qualified a few more from Phoenix on Sunday, and we're schooling 8 more Sunday to go with the 50 already active out there. (We don't actually kennel at the track out there; we're running it out of our Phoenix kennel.) As far as money goes, Apache only pays about 1/3 of what Phoenix pays (Wichita pays ½, while Wheeling pays about six times as much... the caliber of dogs we run at each track is directly related to the monies available), but we still had a really good weelk. And in the standings, the next closest kennel only had 5 wins, so we're eating more than our share of cake.
Today (Wednesday) eas the first day of the 2nd week, and though our win pace fell off slightly (3), we had enough dogs hit the paysheet (they pay for win, 2nd, and 3rd at Apache, unlike almost every other track in the country where they pay for 4th as well) so that our point total didn't dip at all.
Anyways, so as you might have noticed, I'm pretty excited. I'm going to bed, though. Hope everyone else had as good a weekend as I had. It sure didn't look like it was going to be much from the front end, but as Chris Berman says, "That's why they play the games."
It's now officially Christmas season. Want to know why? They've posted the information for Phoenix on the TubaChristmas website! I have literally been waiting all year for this. As many of you know, I finally got a tuba for Christmas last year, after having to rent one to play in Tucson's TC appearance last December. I've been waiting anxiously, checking the TC site every so often like a kid waiting to find out if he got in the same class as his friend in elementary school. And, ta-da! The Phoenix TubaChristmas is Saturday the 13th, at 6:00 pm at Town Lake.
"I'm so excited! And I just can't hide it! I know, I know, I know..." eh...
Anyway, it's been a pretty good friggin' week. When last you guys saw me, it was six nights ago, and I was bemoaning what I thought was the start to a crappy weekend.
Bzatt!
I mentioned in the post before last that opening day at Apache was the day after Thanksgiving. The season has 20 weeks, each week including Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday, with the exception of opening weekend, which has a Friday instead of a Wednesday (to capitalize on the 4-day weekend). So, last season (last week of Nov. thru last week of March) we had 48 wins total and finished 8th in the standings out of 11 kennels. Not such a great showing, but then again, we were divided in force at the beginning of last season with me still in Tucson.
Anyhow, we'd set out to serve notice at Apache this year. In fact, our goal is to be top kennel in Wheeling, Phoenix, and Apache when Apache closes in the first week of April. (The seasons in Wheeling and Phoenix start in January 1. And, of course, we run Wichita, but it'd just be nice to have a good year there; top kennel isn't realistic there since there's a couple of kennels that run their absolute best dogs whereas Wichita is our 3rd string.) I had hoped for, say, three wins a day, for a total of 9. Well, we had 6 Friday alone. I figured, well, great, but I don't think we can keep up the pace all weekend. No, we couldn't; we just had 5 wins each on Saturday and Sunday. Better yet, there was only 10 races Sunday, so by percentage (there's usually 15), that would have been like winning 7 on a regular day. Anyway, that gave us 16 for the weekend. If you're counting on your abacus at home, that sets us on a pace to beat last season's win total -- before New Year's.
Damn!
And the best part is, the kennel isn't even at full strength yet. We qualified a few more from Phoenix on Sunday, and we're schooling 8 more Sunday to go with the 50 already active out there. (We don't actually kennel at the track out there; we're running it out of our Phoenix kennel.) As far as money goes, Apache only pays about 1/3 of what Phoenix pays (Wichita pays ½, while Wheeling pays about six times as much... the caliber of dogs we run at each track is directly related to the monies available), but we still had a really good weelk. And in the standings, the next closest kennel only had 5 wins, so we're eating more than our share of cake.
Today (Wednesday) eas the first day of the 2nd week, and though our win pace fell off slightly (3), we had enough dogs hit the paysheet (they pay for win, 2nd, and 3rd at Apache, unlike almost every other track in the country where they pay for 4th as well) so that our point total didn't dip at all.
Anyways, so as you might have noticed, I'm pretty excited. I'm going to bed, though. Hope everyone else had as good a weekend as I had. It sure didn't look like it was going to be much from the front end, but as Chris Berman says, "That's why they play the games."
