I was finally able to spend a little time on line after I got home. I worked on my blog, answered some emails, and read some things Brad sent me. I had been pretty much looking forward to reading this stuff all day (despite a warning of his penchant for free-verse poetry, which is just not my thing) - kind of like dessert. He has been so funny and witty in his emails to me. The passages were pretty shattering. When I finshed I remembered the first time I watched The Wall. After it ended, I poured myself a large drink, and sat in the open sliding glass door with my feet out in the rain, listening to the storm. No that out there for me to relate these writings about the process and pain of recovery from addiction to a notorious rock opera about drug abuse. I can safey say it took the Chatty right outta my Kathy. The things I had wanted to say to him just seemed stupid and vapid. I emailed him back, but was pretty much at a loss for words. I felt like I had been showing off my "My Little Pony" lunchbox to someone who appraised for Sotheby's.
After that, I turned off the computer, ate some dinner, and watched the rest of the Fox Sunday night line-up. I cleaned up from dinner, and turned in with a Family Guy DVD for dramatic renewal of purpose. That show is just like CPR for your smart-assness.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
The last day of Thanksgiving break :( *
Despite the sleeping pills, I was up about 1am. Sigh. And it was apparent that Stomach wasn't going to let me go back to sleep without more food. Fuck. So I got up and ate something, and turned on the computer for a bit. I had a couple of really interesting emails. One long one from H, which I decided I needed to answer right then; and one from a really cool guy on the coast I've been talking to that I met on Match.com. He is the coolest guy I have met on there. Most of them seem to be either hopelessly suburban or horribly conflicted. Anyway, the coast guy, Brad, had sent me a really nice and interesting email, and I couldn't resist returning it. He was stroking my ego, telling me how great my blog is, which I just can't resist. I gotta send this man my phone number. I ended up being up until 4:30 or so, when I finally felt sleepy again. I went on back to bed and slept until 8:30am, so I got a good nine hours or so in. It was nice to get a little sleep back in the sleep bank.
Robert texted me again this morning, so I called him and talked to him while I had coffee. Thank goodness I went outside, because I saw Frankie, my next door neighbor on the porch, and I remembered that I was having Lance (her s.o.) take my pictures today. I can't believe that had completely slipped my mind.
I came back in, determined to straighten up the house and be ready when he got here about noon. But then I wanted to work on my blog, and I had another cool email from Brad, and one thing led to another. I had budgeted some time to spend on the computer this morning, but I ended up being on longer than I should have. The house looked decent, but I wasn't ready when Lance knocked on the door.
Fortunately he was really laid back about the whole thing, and I just ran through the shower while he set up his equipment. I absolutely love the fact that he doesn't have a studio, and told me he would make the pictures here. He is incredibly nice, and I felt really comfortable with him. The cats got in the pictures, which was really cool - I'm going to have one of those "author" pictures to put up on my blog :) (You know how writers always have the home pictures of them at home with their pets.) I even had some pics made in my jammies so my friends would recognize me :) I am famous for entertaining and showing up at my friends' houses either in jammies, or just taking my pants off when I get there. I figure I wear boxers that cover as much as, or more than, a lot of bathing suits. (I just pretty much wouldn't ever wear clothes if I didn't have to.) Anyway, I loved the pics of me at home, in my jammies, curled up on the sofa with the cats. He was really patient about working with them, and even got some shots of the three of us all looking at the camera. It was a lot more work than he really signed on for, but he was lovely about the whole thing. It was the most relaxed photography session I have ever had, plus he got some really great shots.
After we finished up, I offered to feed him lunch, since I have tons of food here, and he graciously accepted. He was very complimentary of my cooking, which as we all know by now is the shortcut to my heart. While I put the lunch away, he uploaded the pictures to him computer and we went through them. He is a super-nice and really secure guy. He didn't bat an eye about the gay thing, asked me about Michael, and told me he used to work with a bunch of gay guys in retail and never thought a thing about it. We found more common ground in that we both have difficult relationships with our fathers.
So my photos should be ready for order on Wednesday, and it was a pretty fucking painless process. I was just thrilled with the whole thing. The sitting fee was a song too, since he's just starting out. I was prepared to pay much more than he charged me.
Petalware 11" salver in Cremax with pastel stripe by MacBeth-Evans Glass Company, circa 1930-1950
After he left, I was thinking I might get a little blogging done, but then my friend Travis called me from TR. He has been after me to come see his house, so I rode over there today, not really having any other plans. It is gorgeous. It was a nice house when it was built in 1925, and is in great shape. There is more actual wood in that house than in five new houses. Many of the walls are paneled in birch planks that are gorgeously finished. He has a great eye for furniture too, and has many beautiful antiques. When he bought the house, the lady that moved out left a lot of stuff in it - good stuff he hasn't finished going through yet. He just handed me a depression platter today, and said "Here take this home - I don't collect and I know you do." I thought that was pretty cool. He let me look through the dining room china closet too. I didn't know what any of it was, but there were some really neat old things in there. We went up to see the beautiful dormer room, totally paneled in birch, and with tons of lovely little nooks and a window seat. It is a beautiful place all around. Plus he has 5 acres in downtown TR - right off Main Street. He's already been offered twice what he paid for the place, and I can well believe it. It's absolutely charming.
On the way back, I remembered that I needed to go to the library, so I ran through there and picked up the books I had on hold. Just whodunnits and chick lit (sorry Brad, but hey, I'm honest about it) - light reading for the lunch hour. Then I ran through the grocery store for fresh fruit before I headed home. I'm glad to be out of this damp chilly weather, and back in my soft bear lounge pants....
Robert texted me again this morning, so I called him and talked to him while I had coffee. Thank goodness I went outside, because I saw Frankie, my next door neighbor on the porch, and I remembered that I was having Lance (her s.o.) take my pictures today. I can't believe that had completely slipped my mind.
I came back in, determined to straighten up the house and be ready when he got here about noon. But then I wanted to work on my blog, and I had another cool email from Brad, and one thing led to another. I had budgeted some time to spend on the computer this morning, but I ended up being on longer than I should have. The house looked decent, but I wasn't ready when Lance knocked on the door.
Fortunately he was really laid back about the whole thing, and I just ran through the shower while he set up his equipment. I absolutely love the fact that he doesn't have a studio, and told me he would make the pictures here. He is incredibly nice, and I felt really comfortable with him. The cats got in the pictures, which was really cool - I'm going to have one of those "author" pictures to put up on my blog :) (You know how writers always have the home pictures of them at home with their pets.) I even had some pics made in my jammies so my friends would recognize me :) I am famous for entertaining and showing up at my friends' houses either in jammies, or just taking my pants off when I get there. I figure I wear boxers that cover as much as, or more than, a lot of bathing suits. (I just pretty much wouldn't ever wear clothes if I didn't have to.) Anyway, I loved the pics of me at home, in my jammies, curled up on the sofa with the cats. He was really patient about working with them, and even got some shots of the three of us all looking at the camera. It was a lot more work than he really signed on for, but he was lovely about the whole thing. It was the most relaxed photography session I have ever had, plus he got some really great shots.
After we finished up, I offered to feed him lunch, since I have tons of food here, and he graciously accepted. He was very complimentary of my cooking, which as we all know by now is the shortcut to my heart. While I put the lunch away, he uploaded the pictures to him computer and we went through them. He is a super-nice and really secure guy. He didn't bat an eye about the gay thing, asked me about Michael, and told me he used to work with a bunch of gay guys in retail and never thought a thing about it. We found more common ground in that we both have difficult relationships with our fathers.
So my photos should be ready for order on Wednesday, and it was a pretty fucking painless process. I was just thrilled with the whole thing. The sitting fee was a song too, since he's just starting out. I was prepared to pay much more than he charged me.
Petalware 11" salver in Cremax with pastel stripe by MacBeth-Evans Glass Company, circa 1930-1950After he left, I was thinking I might get a little blogging done, but then my friend Travis called me from TR. He has been after me to come see his house, so I rode over there today, not really having any other plans. It is gorgeous. It was a nice house when it was built in 1925, and is in great shape. There is more actual wood in that house than in five new houses. Many of the walls are paneled in birch planks that are gorgeously finished. He has a great eye for furniture too, and has many beautiful antiques. When he bought the house, the lady that moved out left a lot of stuff in it - good stuff he hasn't finished going through yet. He just handed me a depression platter today, and said "Here take this home - I don't collect and I know you do." I thought that was pretty cool. He let me look through the dining room china closet too. I didn't know what any of it was, but there were some really neat old things in there. We went up to see the beautiful dormer room, totally paneled in birch, and with tons of lovely little nooks and a window seat. It is a beautiful place all around. Plus he has 5 acres in downtown TR - right off Main Street. He's already been offered twice what he paid for the place, and I can well believe it. It's absolutely charming.
On the way back, I remembered that I needed to go to the library, so I ran through there and picked up the books I had on hold. Just whodunnits and chick lit (sorry Brad, but hey, I'm honest about it) - light reading for the lunch hour. Then I ran through the grocery store for fresh fruit before I headed home. I'm glad to be out of this damp chilly weather, and back in my soft bear lounge pants....
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Best laid plans, again**
When I woke up last night (as per usual this week) it was raining. When I woke up again this morning, it was still raining. So that pretty much ruled out the jockey lot. Dammit. As I was straightening up a bit, Robert called and we chatted, although I had to finish getting ready before H got here. I had read some news on Robert's blog that would have devastated me, but he seemed to be taking it in stride. And good for him. But I wanted to talk to him for a bit about it since I was concerned.
H showed up like Santa Claus. He brought cheese and crackers he picked up at Whole Foods, another berry set of Ruby Red "Coronation" from his attic (he had seen mine in the cabinet, and recognized that he had the same glass) including the big berry serving bowl and four of the little individual bowls, a piece of black amethyst glass, two Family Guy DVD sets he had found on sale and picked up for me, and a pumpkin pie. It was all really sweet, but kind of overwhelming. I thanked him, but told him he really needs to stop bringing me stuff. It was very nice, but I tried to explain that he doesn't need to buy me stuff or bring me glass for me to want to see him.
We had coffee on the porch while we decided what to do. We finally just decided to go Christmas shopping, so we headed for Laurens road. We grabbed a bagel at a cool little deli I know over there since neither of us had eaten. We both needed to go to GameStop, and with that accomplished, wandered over the Stein Mart. I found the most adorable lounge pants that had little bears all over them. Ordinarily I avoid fleece because I am so hot natured, but for chilly weather like this I thought they might be nice.
After that we went to the mall, since we were heading in that general direction, and there was a sign guy outside saying there was a jewelery store having a going out of business sale. But after doing Penney's, Aeropostale, and Bath and Body works, I was pretty malled out and we had forgotten all about it. I also caught a side view of myself in the wall mirror at Aeropostale, and especially next to those cute boys working there I just looked like orca. I was very discouraged. It was also very crowded and hard to move in there, and I got a bit claustrophobic and just overwhelmed. We ran by a restaurant to get my gift certificate for Mom and Dad (the reason we were on Haywood Road to start with), but they weren't open.
I was tired. So was H. I'm fighting insomnia as usual, and he had been out late with a parishioner's family. The parishioner had died last night. So we were both pretty whooped. H came back to the house and had a glass of wine, and I cut up some of the cheese he had brought and did a little cheese and cracker plate. I also slipped into the lounge pants, which are WONDERFUL; warm, light, and soft as love. I may be a fleece convert. But H didn't stay long. He went home to take a nap, and I had a friend coming over.
My friend Jay was in town from Atlanta for the holidays, but came by my place to see me for a bit before he struck out for home. It was really good to see him. I liked him when he lived here, but he was in a relationship at the time. Shortly after he and his lover moved to Atlanta, they broke up, but it was too late then. He had already left his job here, and he has no intentions of coming back. Still he is a really sweet guy and we get along really well. Plus he's hella sexy. We spent the afternoon snuggling and talking, and then he left for home. But not before I called boyfriend dibs on him should he decide to move back.
By the time he left, I had worked up an appetite, and decided to finish cooking the Thanksgiving food I had gotten. I like furkey sandwiches better than the meal itself, and I like my own stuffing, and the only place I can get veggie gravy is at home.
I finally remembered to get my knife Mom got me for Christmas out of the car. The last Forschner knife I bought slit through the holder, the bag, and the back of the knapsack I had it in on the way home just from the vibrations of the car. They are that sharp. So I had secreted this one in the side pocket of the boot, and kept forgetting to get it out. It is a pleasure to use. I just love those knives.
I mixed up a green bean casserole and popped it in the oven with the dressing. The furkey was already done, and just had to be warmed. While the stuff was in the oven, I peeled, cooked, and mashed the potatoes, made gravy, and sliced up the cranberry sauce. It wasn't terribly hard, but the kitchen was a disaster area when I got done. After I ate I cleaned up and then had pumpkin pie. Everything turned out good, but I played with the green bean casserole, and part of what I did didn't work so well. I only make one a year, at Thanksgiving, because everything in it is canned. It's comfort food, but not something I want all that often. I had also forgotten to pick up the Parker House rolls this year, but with all the starch I had, I didn't really miss them. White bread and I just don't get along any more anyway, even though I love those little rolls.
By the time I was done cooking, cleaning, and eating, I could just feel the sleep pulling me down. It was early, but I decided to go on to bed. I haven't been sleeping well, and have to be able to hit the ground running on Monday to do the year-end numbers. I need to be well rested. I popped in a Family Guy DVD (yay!), took some sleeping pills, and turned in.
H showed up like Santa Claus. He brought cheese and crackers he picked up at Whole Foods, another berry set of Ruby Red "Coronation" from his attic (he had seen mine in the cabinet, and recognized that he had the same glass) including the big berry serving bowl and four of the little individual bowls, a piece of black amethyst glass, two Family Guy DVD sets he had found on sale and picked up for me, and a pumpkin pie. It was all really sweet, but kind of overwhelming. I thanked him, but told him he really needs to stop bringing me stuff. It was very nice, but I tried to explain that he doesn't need to buy me stuff or bring me glass for me to want to see him.
We had coffee on the porch while we decided what to do. We finally just decided to go Christmas shopping, so we headed for Laurens road. We grabbed a bagel at a cool little deli I know over there since neither of us had eaten. We both needed to go to GameStop, and with that accomplished, wandered over the Stein Mart. I found the most adorable lounge pants that had little bears all over them. Ordinarily I avoid fleece because I am so hot natured, but for chilly weather like this I thought they might be nice.
After that we went to the mall, since we were heading in that general direction, and there was a sign guy outside saying there was a jewelery store having a going out of business sale. But after doing Penney's, Aeropostale, and Bath and Body works, I was pretty malled out and we had forgotten all about it. I also caught a side view of myself in the wall mirror at Aeropostale, and especially next to those cute boys working there I just looked like orca. I was very discouraged. It was also very crowded and hard to move in there, and I got a bit claustrophobic and just overwhelmed. We ran by a restaurant to get my gift certificate for Mom and Dad (the reason we were on Haywood Road to start with), but they weren't open.
I was tired. So was H. I'm fighting insomnia as usual, and he had been out late with a parishioner's family. The parishioner had died last night. So we were both pretty whooped. H came back to the house and had a glass of wine, and I cut up some of the cheese he had brought and did a little cheese and cracker plate. I also slipped into the lounge pants, which are WONDERFUL; warm, light, and soft as love. I may be a fleece convert. But H didn't stay long. He went home to take a nap, and I had a friend coming over.
My friend Jay was in town from Atlanta for the holidays, but came by my place to see me for a bit before he struck out for home. It was really good to see him. I liked him when he lived here, but he was in a relationship at the time. Shortly after he and his lover moved to Atlanta, they broke up, but it was too late then. He had already left his job here, and he has no intentions of coming back. Still he is a really sweet guy and we get along really well. Plus he's hella sexy. We spent the afternoon snuggling and talking, and then he left for home. But not before I called boyfriend dibs on him should he decide to move back.
By the time he left, I had worked up an appetite, and decided to finish cooking the Thanksgiving food I had gotten. I like furkey sandwiches better than the meal itself, and I like my own stuffing, and the only place I can get veggie gravy is at home.
I finally remembered to get my knife Mom got me for Christmas out of the car. The last Forschner knife I bought slit through the holder, the bag, and the back of the knapsack I had it in on the way home just from the vibrations of the car. They are that sharp. So I had secreted this one in the side pocket of the boot, and kept forgetting to get it out. It is a pleasure to use. I just love those knives.
I mixed up a green bean casserole and popped it in the oven with the dressing. The furkey was already done, and just had to be warmed. While the stuff was in the oven, I peeled, cooked, and mashed the potatoes, made gravy, and sliced up the cranberry sauce. It wasn't terribly hard, but the kitchen was a disaster area when I got done. After I ate I cleaned up and then had pumpkin pie. Everything turned out good, but I played with the green bean casserole, and part of what I did didn't work so well. I only make one a year, at Thanksgiving, because everything in it is canned. It's comfort food, but not something I want all that often. I had also forgotten to pick up the Parker House rolls this year, but with all the starch I had, I didn't really miss them. White bread and I just don't get along any more anyway, even though I love those little rolls.
By the time I was done cooking, cleaning, and eating, I could just feel the sleep pulling me down. It was early, but I decided to go on to bed. I haven't been sleeping well, and have to be able to hit the ground running on Monday to do the year-end numbers. I need to be well rested. I popped in a Family Guy DVD (yay!), took some sleeping pills, and turned in.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Best laid plans and all that
I decided that I was going to do my Thanksgiving food today, in spite of the fact that TCM was doing a Bette and Joan marathon all day. Surely I can get some credit for not succumbing to the ample temptation to sloth.
So I was elbows-deep in dressing when Joe called and invited me to lunch with him and Michael. I had a furkey (fake turkey) sandwich on the counter, made, that I hadn't had time to sit down and eat yet. I hadn't showered, the sheets were off the bed, and the mattress pad was in the dryer. I hadn't done the cat-box yet. Needless to say, I couldn't just drop everything and jet off. But I told them to go on to lunch and I'd meet them at their house later.
Two hours later, I was about ready to walk out the door. Finally. In the midst of tying up all the loose ends, Lisa called and I wanted to sit down and talk to her in a non-rushed fashion since we don't talk that terribly often.
After turning around several times (long story) I arrived at their house about 5:30. We talked for a while, and Michael cut me a piece of one of the most gorgeous, scrumptious coconut cakes I have ever sunk a tooth into. After catching them up on what's been going on lately (Michael's verdict on the H situ: "You are going to Hell. You are going to Hell in gasoline panties and a kerosene wig."), and a more complete tour of the house (I saw Joe's den today, me their house-mate Shawn{who is fairly toothsome himself}, and saw a bit of the upstairs) we decided to head out to do some shopping.
We went to Wal-Mart first, but I didn't see much I had to have. For the record, I did buy some dental floss, therefore selling my soul twice in one week - a record even for me. (Incidentally, I wonder how many months I have to spend in Hades for dental floss? If Persephone had to spend a month for each pomegranate seed, is floss measured by the yard, by the inch? I guess I'll find out. I guess it's a good thing they didn't have any of the big mega-rolls I usually buy.) I also got some crackers, a couple of decorative gift card tins, some gift boxes, and a pair of fuzzy purple slippers. They were $5 and I just couldn't resist. They look like I've either dis-embowled or kicked the shit (literally) out of a muppet. We then went to Goodwill (nothing but junk today) and K-mart. I did get Grandma Shumate's gift, so that's one more off the list. I noted that they had a large print calendar and a Bible quotes calendar, but not a Bible quotes large print calendar, which was a marketing logic that someone just egregiously missed. We went to Fatz for dinner, and I ordered some fish and was served a double portion of fillet of whale. This fish was enormous. Seriously, I was looking for a flenser to come walking out or a Greenpeace protest or something. I just asked the waitress for a box and dug in to the rest.
Joe' s tummy was hurting again, so after dinner we went back to the house and he went on to bed. Michael and I talked for a while, and before I knew it it was almost 11. Since I have to be up early tomorrow for the jockey lot, I headed on home.
So I was elbows-deep in dressing when Joe called and invited me to lunch with him and Michael. I had a furkey (fake turkey) sandwich on the counter, made, that I hadn't had time to sit down and eat yet. I hadn't showered, the sheets were off the bed, and the mattress pad was in the dryer. I hadn't done the cat-box yet. Needless to say, I couldn't just drop everything and jet off. But I told them to go on to lunch and I'd meet them at their house later.
Two hours later, I was about ready to walk out the door. Finally. In the midst of tying up all the loose ends, Lisa called and I wanted to sit down and talk to her in a non-rushed fashion since we don't talk that terribly often.
After turning around several times (long story) I arrived at their house about 5:30. We talked for a while, and Michael cut me a piece of one of the most gorgeous, scrumptious coconut cakes I have ever sunk a tooth into. After catching them up on what's been going on lately (Michael's verdict on the H situ: "You are going to Hell. You are going to Hell in gasoline panties and a kerosene wig."), and a more complete tour of the house (I saw Joe's den today, me their house-mate Shawn{who is fairly toothsome himself}, and saw a bit of the upstairs) we decided to head out to do some shopping.
We went to Wal-Mart first, but I didn't see much I had to have. For the record, I did buy some dental floss, therefore selling my soul twice in one week - a record even for me. (Incidentally, I wonder how many months I have to spend in Hades for dental floss? If Persephone had to spend a month for each pomegranate seed, is floss measured by the yard, by the inch? I guess I'll find out. I guess it's a good thing they didn't have any of the big mega-rolls I usually buy.) I also got some crackers, a couple of decorative gift card tins, some gift boxes, and a pair of fuzzy purple slippers. They were $5 and I just couldn't resist. They look like I've either dis-embowled or kicked the shit (literally) out of a muppet. We then went to Goodwill (nothing but junk today) and K-mart. I did get Grandma Shumate's gift, so that's one more off the list. I noted that they had a large print calendar and a Bible quotes calendar, but not a Bible quotes large print calendar, which was a marketing logic that someone just egregiously missed. We went to Fatz for dinner, and I ordered some fish and was served a double portion of fillet of whale. This fish was enormous. Seriously, I was looking for a flenser to come walking out or a Greenpeace protest or something. I just asked the waitress for a box and dug in to the rest.
Joe' s tummy was hurting again, so after dinner we went back to the house and he went on to bed. Michael and I talked for a while, and before I knew it it was almost 11. Since I have to be up early tomorrow for the jockey lot, I headed on home.
Lazy, lazy bear*
Well I seem to be having a spell of insomnia this week. I finally got in bed about midnight last night, and was back up at 4am. Apparently Stomach decided we were hungry, which was just ridiculous. I had just given him a sandwich before we went to bed.
I decided to get up, have some water, and check my messages and comments. Surprise, there were two more creepy comments from the H-stalker, thinking he knew who he was, etc. I declined to post them and left a rather tart comment for him to try to shut all that down.
I surfed for a while, and talked to a couple of guys on Bear411. About 6, I noticed my buddy Ken was online, and talked to him for a bit. He ended up coming over for a visit this morning on the way out to go shopping with his family, and we had a really nice visit that I really enjoyed.
TCM is apparently having a Bette and Joan marathon today, and I started watching that, but was trying to sleep some more too. I made a huge breakfast and caught the end of Storm Center, one of Bette's less famous and rather melodramatic films from later in her career. I watched a special about Joan Crawford for the second time over breakfast, and then one of her movies I hadn't seen, Queen Bee, came on. I wanted to see the movie, but it was good that I fell asleep for a while.
I woke up about noon, with Stomach once again wanting to be fed, and put the Quorn turkey loaf in the oven. I decided to make my Thanksgiving food today.
I decided to get up, have some water, and check my messages and comments. Surprise, there were two more creepy comments from the H-stalker, thinking he knew who he was, etc. I declined to post them and left a rather tart comment for him to try to shut all that down.
I surfed for a while, and talked to a couple of guys on Bear411. About 6, I noticed my buddy Ken was online, and talked to him for a bit. He ended up coming over for a visit this morning on the way out to go shopping with his family, and we had a really nice visit that I really enjoyed.
TCM is apparently having a Bette and Joan marathon today, and I started watching that, but was trying to sleep some more too. I made a huge breakfast and caught the end of Storm Center, one of Bette's less famous and rather melodramatic films from later in her career. I watched a special about Joan Crawford for the second time over breakfast, and then one of her movies I hadn't seen, Queen Bee, came on. I wanted to see the movie, but it was good that I fell asleep for a while.
I woke up about noon, with Stomach once again wanting to be fed, and put the Quorn turkey loaf in the oven. I decided to make my Thanksgiving food today.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
A pretty nice evening makes a sudden turn to the creepy
When I woke up around 5:30, I was - amazingly - hungry again. So I popped some leftover pizza in the oven and turned on the computer to mess around a bit on here. I did my entries, and then started chatting on Bear411. I was also periodically checking my email to see if I had any comments to publish. Now that I have a couple of readers and commenters, I try to stay on top of things.
Unfortunately, because of a creepy poster who was writing things about my mother last year, I had to change the comments feature to edit or review posts before they are published. I was really glad I did after last night. I started getting posts from a new reader. They were initially innocuous, but very shortly became creepy. He was asking a bunch of questions about H, and making unwelcome comments about my love life. I tried to be courteous, but eventually it just became too much. I ended the back-and-fourth and went on to bed.
This is my little fiefdom. It is the only place that I am God. I try my best to be benevolent - this is something that is supposed to be fun. But I will smite if I have to. Be warned.
I did talk to a couple of nice guys on Bear411 tonight though. But as usual, one was four hours away, and the other doesn't seem to have much of an inner life. But I'm trying to keep an open mind and not just reject guys out of hand. I would really like to have someone nice to date and spend some time with, even if he wasn't "The One" at this point. I'm lonely. And I'd like someone to snuggle up with and watch a movie.
I talked to my friend Michael as well. He and his sister were hitting the sales tomorrow. We may be able to work out getting together this weekend, which would be nice. I'd enjoy seeing him.
Unfortunately, because of a creepy poster who was writing things about my mother last year, I had to change the comments feature to edit or review posts before they are published. I was really glad I did after last night. I started getting posts from a new reader. They were initially innocuous, but very shortly became creepy. He was asking a bunch of questions about H, and making unwelcome comments about my love life. I tried to be courteous, but eventually it just became too much. I ended the back-and-fourth and went on to bed.
This is my little fiefdom. It is the only place that I am God. I try my best to be benevolent - this is something that is supposed to be fun. But I will smite if I have to. Be warned.
I did talk to a couple of nice guys on Bear411 tonight though. But as usual, one was four hours away, and the other doesn't seem to have much of an inner life. But I'm trying to keep an open mind and not just reject guys out of hand. I would really like to have someone nice to date and spend some time with, even if he wasn't "The One" at this point. I'm lonely. And I'd like someone to snuggle up with and watch a movie.
I talked to my friend Michael as well. He and his sister were hitting the sales tomorrow. We may be able to work out getting together this weekend, which would be nice. I'd enjoy seeing him.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Well as usual, when I have the time to sleep, I can't sleep. It makes me nuts. I ate something before I turned in, since rice noodles burn off like flash powder, but still woke up at 3am. I got up for a bit, and eventually made it back to sleep, but woke up at 6:4 fucking 5 on the dot this morning.
I got up and made a cup of coffee, and messed around online for a bit. I smoked a cigarette. I talked to Robert for a bit online, and then did a 15 minute routine for him on the phone. I just love to make him laugh. Apparently he's now my biggest fan. It's flattering, but I don't know if I can consistently deliver on that kind of high expectation.
Eventually, I finished getting ready and went over to Mom and Dad's. I was pretty much as close to looking like a Nice Young Man as I ever get these days. I had on my new magic pants, a tasteful heathery-purple oxford cloth shirt, and my oxblood penny loafers. I had shaved, and had on earrings so small they were practically a white flag of surrender. Dad HATES my earrings, but when I turned 30, I just basically started ignoring it. Usually you can directly relate my earring size to the attitude I'm sporting for a special occasion. I have medium-sized ones that I wear for every day, but when I want to be larger than life, I have two extra-attitudinal sizes to choose from. Since they aren't just jewelery to me, but my tiny "fuck you" to traditional mores and gender roles, I just can't bring myself to go without them. I feel naked. And not in the good way. So wearing tiny tiny earrings today was my compromise. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to get away with wearing them though. I mean, I'm 41 now. I saw this guy at Penny's last night, who was old. Prolly in his late 60's. Wearing earrings and a jacket and tie. It just looked weird. When I used to go to the gym, there was an old guy that came in wearing bikini underwear with gray tummy hair snarfing out over it. Although I could wear it beautifully at the time, I said a silent prayer to the fashion gods that I would know when it was time to stop wearing them (my tastes changed before it got to that point). I now offer a similar plea to the jewelery gods. May I have the self awareness to know when it is Time To Stop. Although since I have decided to either a) adopt a unisex mumu look or; b) grow a luxurious silver mane and dress in a Quentin Crisp or Kentucky Colonal manner in retirement, I may be able to wear earrings in old age. But I won't be walking around looking like a Baptist deacon who just might be wearing lace tap pants under his slacks. That's too kinky even for me. I'm not ready to let go of my earrings yet. They're kind of like Sampson's hair to me.
After some conversation at the house, a call to Grandma Shumate, and watching some of the Macy's parade, we headed for Richard's in Greer. The food was good, but frankly, did not live up to the raves. The green beans had no seasoning at all in them. The sweet potato souffle had no butter in it, and thus no salt and fat to balance the sweetness, and was fairly a one-note flavor palate. The mashed potatoes had no salt in them, and were kind of pasty, rather than fluffy. They had biscuits instead of yeast rolls, which I wouldn't have done, but the biscuits were very good, and homemade. (I'm Republican about Thanksgiving bread - it's pretty much Parker House rolls or nothing, at least when I'm serving.) The dressing was phenomenal, but full of sausage. The texture was good, the sage was just right, and it had a gloriously perfect crust that only reckless disregard for fat grams can bestow. The gravy was good too, but it was dark, not pure poultry gravy. (I bend the rules a bit when eating Thanksgiving out. I know the dressing has broth in it {although usually not pork}, and I eat some gravy. I hope I haven't disappointed you Robert.) There was a corn souffle that Eve is very impressed with, and which was good, but I know how to make it and it's fairly simple. He had put peppers in it, which is good, but I thought he got it too spicy, and it didn't harmonize well with the other dishes he was serving. I liked it, but I fear it may have been a bit of a rude surprise to some of the older people expecting more traditional dishes. The cranberry relish was very good too. They had an uninspired tossed salad (I think it was bagged - fine for a casual meal, but I expect a bit more from a restaurant - especially for Thanksgiving Dinner), but the dressings were homemade, and the blue cheese I had was excellent. The pumpkin pie filling was fairly pedestrian, but the crust was perfect, crisp and flaky. So it was a good meal, but I could have done it better.
They guy that runs the place is a truck-driver during the week, and just does brunch and lunch on the weekends. Its a family business that they run out of the downstairs of a lovely old house. Its about the size of the kind of place I'd like to have. 15-20 tables, and make what I feel like that is fresh and in season. Greenville is ripe for a vegetarian restaurant. If I don't do it, someone is going to beat me to it.
Dad, however, was not on his best behavior today. He kept trying to get into politics. His views largely come from Rush Limbaugh, and the weird gun people who come into the store - not exactly a balanced viewpoint. He's also upset about the election, although his business is booming. Since the gun people and the Chicken Little conservatives tend to overlap, there is a run on guns nationwide (I actually read about this on the Newsweek website not long ago). The alarmists apparently really believe that Obama can either a) take all their guns away; or b) signal some kind of racial overthrow of the country. Never mind that when Bill Clinton was elected Dad thought his business was going to be outlawed then too. He's convinced the country will dissolve into bankruptcy under the weight of entitlement programs. Never mind that the the Republicans have run up the largest national debt in the country's history through tax cuts for the rich and war-mongering. In the meantime, sales at the store are through the roof. He also brought up Paul and Cindy and tried to put me on the spot about that. Eventually we got him off those subjects, but there were some tense moments in there.
When we got back to the house, Dad found that his new house key didn't work, so we rode over to a friend's house to pick up an extra key. The remainder of the visit was fairly amicable. Dad talked about a guy who collects guns he knows, and I talked about glass. It's interesting, but men who have a grande passionelle for collecting something seem to be able to understand each other, regardless of the disparity of their interests. The monkey on your back is remarkably similar.
By the time I got home, the heavy meal, the warmth of the day, the lack of sleep, and the relief that things had gone relatively well conspired to pretty much put a big ole nap at the house with my name on it. I lay down, cleared the cats off me, and slept for two and a half hours.
I got up and made a cup of coffee, and messed around online for a bit. I smoked a cigarette. I talked to Robert for a bit online, and then did a 15 minute routine for him on the phone. I just love to make him laugh. Apparently he's now my biggest fan. It's flattering, but I don't know if I can consistently deliver on that kind of high expectation.
Eventually, I finished getting ready and went over to Mom and Dad's. I was pretty much as close to looking like a Nice Young Man as I ever get these days. I had on my new magic pants, a tasteful heathery-purple oxford cloth shirt, and my oxblood penny loafers. I had shaved, and had on earrings so small they were practically a white flag of surrender. Dad HATES my earrings, but when I turned 30, I just basically started ignoring it. Usually you can directly relate my earring size to the attitude I'm sporting for a special occasion. I have medium-sized ones that I wear for every day, but when I want to be larger than life, I have two extra-attitudinal sizes to choose from. Since they aren't just jewelery to me, but my tiny "fuck you" to traditional mores and gender roles, I just can't bring myself to go without them. I feel naked. And not in the good way. So wearing tiny tiny earrings today was my compromise. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to get away with wearing them though. I mean, I'm 41 now. I saw this guy at Penny's last night, who was old. Prolly in his late 60's. Wearing earrings and a jacket and tie. It just looked weird. When I used to go to the gym, there was an old guy that came in wearing bikini underwear with gray tummy hair snarfing out over it. Although I could wear it beautifully at the time, I said a silent prayer to the fashion gods that I would know when it was time to stop wearing them (my tastes changed before it got to that point). I now offer a similar plea to the jewelery gods. May I have the self awareness to know when it is Time To Stop. Although since I have decided to either a) adopt a unisex mumu look or; b) grow a luxurious silver mane and dress in a Quentin Crisp or Kentucky Colonal manner in retirement, I may be able to wear earrings in old age. But I won't be walking around looking like a Baptist deacon who just might be wearing lace tap pants under his slacks. That's too kinky even for me. I'm not ready to let go of my earrings yet. They're kind of like Sampson's hair to me.
After some conversation at the house, a call to Grandma Shumate, and watching some of the Macy's parade, we headed for Richard's in Greer. The food was good, but frankly, did not live up to the raves. The green beans had no seasoning at all in them. The sweet potato souffle had no butter in it, and thus no salt and fat to balance the sweetness, and was fairly a one-note flavor palate. The mashed potatoes had no salt in them, and were kind of pasty, rather than fluffy. They had biscuits instead of yeast rolls, which I wouldn't have done, but the biscuits were very good, and homemade. (I'm Republican about Thanksgiving bread - it's pretty much Parker House rolls or nothing, at least when I'm serving.) The dressing was phenomenal, but full of sausage. The texture was good, the sage was just right, and it had a gloriously perfect crust that only reckless disregard for fat grams can bestow. The gravy was good too, but it was dark, not pure poultry gravy. (I bend the rules a bit when eating Thanksgiving out. I know the dressing has broth in it {although usually not pork}, and I eat some gravy. I hope I haven't disappointed you Robert.) There was a corn souffle that Eve is very impressed with, and which was good, but I know how to make it and it's fairly simple. He had put peppers in it, which is good, but I thought he got it too spicy, and it didn't harmonize well with the other dishes he was serving. I liked it, but I fear it may have been a bit of a rude surprise to some of the older people expecting more traditional dishes. The cranberry relish was very good too. They had an uninspired tossed salad (I think it was bagged - fine for a casual meal, but I expect a bit more from a restaurant - especially for Thanksgiving Dinner), but the dressings were homemade, and the blue cheese I had was excellent. The pumpkin pie filling was fairly pedestrian, but the crust was perfect, crisp and flaky. So it was a good meal, but I could have done it better.
They guy that runs the place is a truck-driver during the week, and just does brunch and lunch on the weekends. Its a family business that they run out of the downstairs of a lovely old house. Its about the size of the kind of place I'd like to have. 15-20 tables, and make what I feel like that is fresh and in season. Greenville is ripe for a vegetarian restaurant. If I don't do it, someone is going to beat me to it.
Dad, however, was not on his best behavior today. He kept trying to get into politics. His views largely come from Rush Limbaugh, and the weird gun people who come into the store - not exactly a balanced viewpoint. He's also upset about the election, although his business is booming. Since the gun people and the Chicken Little conservatives tend to overlap, there is a run on guns nationwide (I actually read about this on the Newsweek website not long ago). The alarmists apparently really believe that Obama can either a) take all their guns away; or b) signal some kind of racial overthrow of the country. Never mind that when Bill Clinton was elected Dad thought his business was going to be outlawed then too. He's convinced the country will dissolve into bankruptcy under the weight of entitlement programs. Never mind that the the Republicans have run up the largest national debt in the country's history through tax cuts for the rich and war-mongering. In the meantime, sales at the store are through the roof. He also brought up Paul and Cindy and tried to put me on the spot about that. Eventually we got him off those subjects, but there were some tense moments in there.
When we got back to the house, Dad found that his new house key didn't work, so we rode over to a friend's house to pick up an extra key. The remainder of the visit was fairly amicable. Dad talked about a guy who collects guns he knows, and I talked about glass. It's interesting, but men who have a grande passionelle for collecting something seem to be able to understand each other, regardless of the disparity of their interests. The monkey on your back is remarkably similar.
By the time I got home, the heavy meal, the warmth of the day, the lack of sleep, and the relief that things had gone relatively well conspired to pretty much put a big ole nap at the house with my name on it. I lay down, cleared the cats off me, and slept for two and a half hours.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
The gayest evening ever
Justin called today out of the blue, and said he both wanted to see me, and wanted to go to the mall. I did have shopping I needed to do, and decided that the mall wasn't going to get any more sane between now and Christmas. Plus I really wanted to see him, so I said sure.
He met me at the house and after a brief tiptoe through the new glass, we headed out. We ate at the food court. I know. But I was hungry, and we had some things to do. The Thai food I had was bad enough to be the cause of an international incident, but then I suppose the ambassador will never taste it. The Greenvillians, though, were lapping it up like manna from heaven. Most of the dishes just looked like Chinese food, which I found odd. But it filled the hole.
It soon turned out that this was more a shopping trip than a Christmas shopping trip, but we had a really good time. Justin has lost tons of weight, and needs new things. I'm finding it, and finally decided to buy more pants. I loathe to buy pants. Apparently most other fat guys do too, since a) there were like 3 styles of pants and 8,000 shirts in each "big & huge" section; and b) there was pretty much one color. Khaki. You can have any color pants you want, as long as they're tan. I exaggerate only slightly. There was an occasional gray pair to relieve the monotony, and some brown mixed in, but for the most part, just acres of khaki. Since I need a new pair of olive green pants, this was not encouraging. I did find a couple of pairs of silvery green ones that were basically another shade of gray, but that was it. The pants I found that I liked of course did not come in upright hippo size. I remembered a) why I LOATHE to shop for pants; and b) why I usually just do a couple of clicks on line and fucking order them. If they cover my ass, and I can get it in them, then fuck fit. At least pants have been achieved.
I did find a brown plaid-ish pair I liked at Penny's. They were pretty cool, and were on sale. I also found a pair of tiny brown and tan hounds-tooth check slacks. I have always wanted a pair of hounds-tooth, but was holding out for black and white. These fit well though, and looked pretty good. They are thin enough for me to wear to the office. I work in an office full of scantily clad exothermic women who apparently mainline Coumadin, and would be happy living in a) hell; b) an active volcano; or c) boiling vents like those tube worms on the ocean floor. When I see my navel pop out like the button on a Butterball turkey, they are comfortable. Needless to say, I wear summer clothes to the office all year round.
These pants were also that magic polystyrene fabric that you can wad up and roll down a hill in a barrel full of rocks, but will come out and hang up looking just as they did before. (No I don't know why you would want that, but maybe it's one of those things that it's just nice to know you can do, whether you ever do it or not.) They also had the dreaded "comfort waist", which I have held out against for years, but which I have finally had to concede sounds like a good idea. Sigh. So with this purchase, I have acknowledged a new size and bought my first pair of old man pants at the same time. At least they aren't pleated. That is the hard line now. I would rather have my toenails chewed off by rabid weasels than wear pleated pants again. The stores are full of them though. God bless those heterosexuals.
I did get a few gifts, and got my Christmas tin of See's "Toffee-ettes". I know. It's a stupid name. They used to be called Almond Rocha, but apparently no one knew what they were. Since they look like cat box cookies (that's what I call them) I guess they needed something a bit more descriptive for the uninitiated. So I ate a couple, and they were just as orgasmic as I remembered. I was really glad I didn't have to choose between them and the Reese's Christmas Trees if they were both drowning, because I would be so torn. All the Reese's novelty candies are good (Hearts for Valentine's Day, Eggs for Easter, Pumpkins for Halloween, and Trees for Christmas) because they all have that extra thick peanut butter filling in them, but the Christmas Trees are the best. Something about all those points makes them more tasty, or maybe gives them a better mouth feel. Gee, I wonder why I need new fucking pants.
Anyway, that surrender over, we had kind of run out of time at the mall, which was closing. We went over to Old Navy, which Justin thought was open later but they weren't. Bed, Bath, and Beyond was though, and I got Mom the sheets she asked for for Christmas. I knew I wouldn't be able to buy them with her there, because she'd never let me spend the money for some nice ones. These are Wamsutta 400 thread-count in ecru Egyptian Cotton, and they're pretty fucking nice. First quality too - so they're actually bed-shaped, unlike most of my sheets. I'm gonna tell her I got them on sale. I did, but hopefully she won't figure out what I paid for them. They also had some of those new bamboo sheets, which were hella soft, but I'm conflicted about them. They fabric is supposed to be very tough, and bamboo requires a lot less chemicals and irrigation to grow (cotton represents a hugely disproportionate percentage of the water used for irrigation), but from what I understand the process used to make it into fabric is pretty heinous for the environment, kind of making it a wash there. At any rate, I wasn't buying experimental sheets for Mom for Christmas. They were fairly pricey too.
After we closed down all the stores, we headed back to my place, and Justin said he wanted some hot tea, so I got out the teapot and my pretty cups and made a pot. I was disappointed that I didn't have a nice tea-cloth or towel to put on the tray. I'll have to pick one up. I hate my teapot, because it was apparently one of the ones made to look at and droozles tea everywhere when you pour, but it does look good. I overfilled the cups and made matters worse, so I wrecked my already borderline ugly tea tray. At least I had Depression Glass cream and sugar service, since I have like 14 of each. The tea was good too. It was real, loose Earl Gray that I ordered from Britain. There is nothing like real Bergamot oil - you can really tell the difference in the cheaper teas. I think Twinings tea is really good, although I understand some tea snobs look down on it.
After we had our tea, Justin asked if I had a needle and thread, since he needed to sew up the arm on his sweater. When I drug it all out, I was inspired to do a bit of mending I had been putting off, so we had a little sewing circle. I sewed the button back on a pair of my existing olive green pants, reviving them. Good thing, since I couldn't find any.
He went to go home and pack (he's going home for Thanksgiving, of course) and I laid out my "fine young man" outfit for dinner tomorrow with Mom and Dad. I cleared away all the tea things and turned in.
He met me at the house and after a brief tiptoe through the new glass, we headed out. We ate at the food court. I know. But I was hungry, and we had some things to do. The Thai food I had was bad enough to be the cause of an international incident, but then I suppose the ambassador will never taste it. The Greenvillians, though, were lapping it up like manna from heaven. Most of the dishes just looked like Chinese food, which I found odd. But it filled the hole.
It soon turned out that this was more a shopping trip than a Christmas shopping trip, but we had a really good time. Justin has lost tons of weight, and needs new things. I'm finding it, and finally decided to buy more pants. I loathe to buy pants. Apparently most other fat guys do too, since a) there were like 3 styles of pants and 8,000 shirts in each "big & huge" section; and b) there was pretty much one color. Khaki. You can have any color pants you want, as long as they're tan. I exaggerate only slightly. There was an occasional gray pair to relieve the monotony, and some brown mixed in, but for the most part, just acres of khaki. Since I need a new pair of olive green pants, this was not encouraging. I did find a couple of pairs of silvery green ones that were basically another shade of gray, but that was it. The pants I found that I liked of course did not come in upright hippo size. I remembered a) why I LOATHE to shop for pants; and b) why I usually just do a couple of clicks on line and fucking order them. If they cover my ass, and I can get it in them, then fuck fit. At least pants have been achieved.
I did find a brown plaid-ish pair I liked at Penny's. They were pretty cool, and were on sale. I also found a pair of tiny brown and tan hounds-tooth check slacks. I have always wanted a pair of hounds-tooth, but was holding out for black and white. These fit well though, and looked pretty good. They are thin enough for me to wear to the office. I work in an office full of scantily clad exothermic women who apparently mainline Coumadin, and would be happy living in a) hell; b) an active volcano; or c) boiling vents like those tube worms on the ocean floor. When I see my navel pop out like the button on a Butterball turkey, they are comfortable. Needless to say, I wear summer clothes to the office all year round.
These pants were also that magic polystyrene fabric that you can wad up and roll down a hill in a barrel full of rocks, but will come out and hang up looking just as they did before. (No I don't know why you would want that, but maybe it's one of those things that it's just nice to know you can do, whether you ever do it or not.) They also had the dreaded "comfort waist", which I have held out against for years, but which I have finally had to concede sounds like a good idea. Sigh. So with this purchase, I have acknowledged a new size and bought my first pair of old man pants at the same time. At least they aren't pleated. That is the hard line now. I would rather have my toenails chewed off by rabid weasels than wear pleated pants again. The stores are full of them though. God bless those heterosexuals.
I did get a few gifts, and got my Christmas tin of See's "Toffee-ettes". I know. It's a stupid name. They used to be called Almond Rocha, but apparently no one knew what they were. Since they look like cat box cookies (that's what I call them) I guess they needed something a bit more descriptive for the uninitiated. So I ate a couple, and they were just as orgasmic as I remembered. I was really glad I didn't have to choose between them and the Reese's Christmas Trees if they were both drowning, because I would be so torn. All the Reese's novelty candies are good (Hearts for Valentine's Day, Eggs for Easter, Pumpkins for Halloween, and Trees for Christmas) because they all have that extra thick peanut butter filling in them, but the Christmas Trees are the best. Something about all those points makes them more tasty, or maybe gives them a better mouth feel. Gee, I wonder why I need new fucking pants.
Anyway, that surrender over, we had kind of run out of time at the mall, which was closing. We went over to Old Navy, which Justin thought was open later but they weren't. Bed, Bath, and Beyond was though, and I got Mom the sheets she asked for for Christmas. I knew I wouldn't be able to buy them with her there, because she'd never let me spend the money for some nice ones. These are Wamsutta 400 thread-count in ecru Egyptian Cotton, and they're pretty fucking nice. First quality too - so they're actually bed-shaped, unlike most of my sheets. I'm gonna tell her I got them on sale. I did, but hopefully she won't figure out what I paid for them. They also had some of those new bamboo sheets, which were hella soft, but I'm conflicted about them. They fabric is supposed to be very tough, and bamboo requires a lot less chemicals and irrigation to grow (cotton represents a hugely disproportionate percentage of the water used for irrigation), but from what I understand the process used to make it into fabric is pretty heinous for the environment, kind of making it a wash there. At any rate, I wasn't buying experimental sheets for Mom for Christmas. They were fairly pricey too.
After we closed down all the stores, we headed back to my place, and Justin said he wanted some hot tea, so I got out the teapot and my pretty cups and made a pot. I was disappointed that I didn't have a nice tea-cloth or towel to put on the tray. I'll have to pick one up. I hate my teapot, because it was apparently one of the ones made to look at and droozles tea everywhere when you pour, but it does look good. I overfilled the cups and made matters worse, so I wrecked my already borderline ugly tea tray. At least I had Depression Glass cream and sugar service, since I have like 14 of each. The tea was good too. It was real, loose Earl Gray that I ordered from Britain. There is nothing like real Bergamot oil - you can really tell the difference in the cheaper teas. I think Twinings tea is really good, although I understand some tea snobs look down on it.
After we had our tea, Justin asked if I had a needle and thread, since he needed to sew up the arm on his sweater. When I drug it all out, I was inspired to do a bit of mending I had been putting off, so we had a little sewing circle. I sewed the button back on a pair of my existing olive green pants, reviving them. Good thing, since I couldn't find any.
He went to go home and pack (he's going home for Thanksgiving, of course) and I laid out my "fine young man" outfit for dinner tomorrow with Mom and Dad. I cleared away all the tea things and turned in.
Dreading today
Well, as usual when I'm stressed, I was up at 3:30am. My brain got on the hamster-wheel, and I couldn't get back to sleep. I just got up and decided to check my email, since I was curious about whether or not there was an email from H. There was. He was pretty cool about the whole blog thing, which was nice. I stayed up writing him back and fooling around online for about an hour.
I did get back to sleep, but it was kind of that half-sleep. I dreamed I was calling in sick today.
When the alarm went off, I felt like crap on a cracker. I made a cup of coffee that was both delicious and sorely needed. It wasn't enough. I had a cigarette on the front porch as well.
So, I'm sitting smoking this morning, and looked at these two trees across the street. One of them is decked in gorgeous Russet plumage (yay God!), looking absolutely resplendent; and the other is basically mouldering away. And I'm wondering which tree I am. I have gone through periods in my life that I felt I was aggressively growing. I could feel myself branch into the sky, feel the roots of my soul expanding outward to make solid base to grow from. I just kind of feel in stasis right now. And I don't want to be one of those people who feels that I have nothing to offer without a Man in my life. That's just crazy. I'm not some 1950's housewife (God knows - look at this place!) Further, I would be derisive of anyone who expressed such a thought (at least in my head, or on this blog), but that is kind of what I've been doing. It's time to get over that shit. Oh and the trees? I've decided I'm like most people, somewhere in between. But it's time for me to start working on my resplendency dammit.
But today I just have to summon up the energy to get through this day.
The combination of the caffine and nicotine, plus the butt-ass cold (as Bernadette would say) woke me up pretty handily. I knew I had to hit the ground running at work today, so I turned on some music to help get me going. "Baby Love" by Mother's Finest sounded so good I downloaded a bunch of their other songs to listen to while I got ready. I was pretty surprised to find out how racist a lot of their songs are - who knew?
I got in the car, took out my book on CD, and put in my special work mix CD that I save for when I need that extra jolt.
***
I got to work, and proceeded to beg, borrow, and harass the information I needed out of everyone and then sacrificed a small child (not to mention my nerves) to get the newly complicated-as-hell Wednesday slides done on time (10:30 a fucking m). Just in time to get an email from my boss postponing the meeting until 4pm. I tell you, there's not a jury of office workers in the world who would convict me.
I went on to do all my follow-ups, polishing them off in pretty much record time, since all the deadbeats are already off for the holiday anyway, home waiting for that turkey to lay an egg full of money. Yes, gentle reader, we have entered the season of what I call "Fervent Belief in the Holiday Miracle".
Accounts having problems seem to feel that "if I can just make it to (insert holiday here -Thanksgiving, Christmas, the first of the year)" that everything will be OK. And they seem to believe that they can draw me into the fantasy. This mystifies me. They apparently believe the turkey will work some magic, or It's a Wonderful Life will come true, or a Christmas Miracle will occur, Santa will deliver a sack full of money, or the New Year will mysteriously bring a flood of good fortune and checks, because they certainly aren't doing anything to resolve their situation. I haven't seen it happen, but that doesn't seem to affect the Fervent Belief. Maybe it's just they want a break from their problems, and think they'll come back fresh and make a New Start or something. Whatever the cause or logic at work, however, it makes it damn hard to get anyone to focus on anything practical from about Nov 15 to Jan 2, when everyone comes back disillusioned and cranky from forced proximity to those with whom they share DNA.
Oh, and at 4pm today? I get copied on a cancellation of the meeting I create the Hell Slides for. Someday...
I did get back to sleep, but it was kind of that half-sleep. I dreamed I was calling in sick today.
When the alarm went off, I felt like crap on a cracker. I made a cup of coffee that was both delicious and sorely needed. It wasn't enough. I had a cigarette on the front porch as well.
So, I'm sitting smoking this morning, and looked at these two trees across the street. One of them is decked in gorgeous Russet plumage (yay God!), looking absolutely resplendent; and the other is basically mouldering away. And I'm wondering which tree I am. I have gone through periods in my life that I felt I was aggressively growing. I could feel myself branch into the sky, feel the roots of my soul expanding outward to make solid base to grow from. I just kind of feel in stasis right now. And I don't want to be one of those people who feels that I have nothing to offer without a Man in my life. That's just crazy. I'm not some 1950's housewife (God knows - look at this place!) Further, I would be derisive of anyone who expressed such a thought (at least in my head, or on this blog), but that is kind of what I've been doing. It's time to get over that shit. Oh and the trees? I've decided I'm like most people, somewhere in between. But it's time for me to start working on my resplendency dammit.But today I just have to summon up the energy to get through this day.
The combination of the caffine and nicotine, plus the butt-ass cold (as Bernadette would say) woke me up pretty handily. I knew I had to hit the ground running at work today, so I turned on some music to help get me going. "Baby Love" by Mother's Finest sounded so good I downloaded a bunch of their other songs to listen to while I got ready. I was pretty surprised to find out how racist a lot of their songs are - who knew?
I got in the car, took out my book on CD, and put in my special work mix CD that I save for when I need that extra jolt.
***
I got to work, and proceeded to beg, borrow, and harass the information I needed out of everyone and then sacrificed a small child (not to mention my nerves) to get the newly complicated-as-hell Wednesday slides done on time (10:30 a fucking m). Just in time to get an email from my boss postponing the meeting until 4pm. I tell you, there's not a jury of office workers in the world who would convict me.
I went on to do all my follow-ups, polishing them off in pretty much record time, since all the deadbeats are already off for the holiday anyway, home waiting for that turkey to lay an egg full of money. Yes, gentle reader, we have entered the season of what I call "Fervent Belief in the Holiday Miracle".
Accounts having problems seem to feel that "if I can just make it to (insert holiday here -Thanksgiving, Christmas, the first of the year)" that everything will be OK. And they seem to believe that they can draw me into the fantasy. This mystifies me. They apparently believe the turkey will work some magic, or It's a Wonderful Life will come true, or a Christmas Miracle will occur, Santa will deliver a sack full of money, or the New Year will mysteriously bring a flood of good fortune and checks, because they certainly aren't doing anything to resolve their situation. I haven't seen it happen, but that doesn't seem to affect the Fervent Belief. Maybe it's just they want a break from their problems, and think they'll come back fresh and make a New Start or something. Whatever the cause or logic at work, however, it makes it damn hard to get anyone to focus on anything practical from about Nov 15 to Jan 2, when everyone comes back disillusioned and cranky from forced proximity to those with whom they share DNA.
Oh, and at 4pm today? I get copied on a cancellation of the meeting I create the Hell Slides for. Someday...
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Dinner out with H - and a mystery
Miss America 8 3/4" 4-part divided relish in pink by Hocking Glass Company, circa 1935-19388,000 follow-ups to do, calls, evil customers, etc. I figured it out later. Any time I take a holiday, or time off, I get the "holiday screamer"; some person frantically trying to get something pushed through before the company shuts down for a couple of days. Usually, what they want is un-doable, and usually that un-doability is because they have procrastinated for days, weeks, even months prior. Yet because they have finally decided to take action, they expect you to stop the earth from turning, and produce miracles out of your butt to get them whatever they want. Needless to say, my ass (despite compliments) is miracle-free. Such scenes invariably turn ugly when the insistent one is forced to confront cold reality - usually at my desk.
Apparently God (or fate, Buddah, or whatever your personal belief systems supports) has chosen to take it easy on me for the last year or so. I have left for vacations and holidays relatively free of holiday screamers for a while now. Must be pay-back time. I was so stressed when I got out of work that I stopped for a pack of cigarettes on the way home, which I hardly ever do.
To make matters more lovely, the highway was at a complete stand-still when I got off work. Apparently there was an eight-car pileup AND an overturned tractor-trailor. Fortunately I was able to see it in time, and went home through town. It took longer than usual, but not as long as it would have on the highway.
I got home, fed the cats, straightened up a bit, put on an outfit that basically said "Really, the only reason I'm not wearing sweats is because you're buying dinner.", and poured myself a glass of the wine I thought H had left on my porch last weekend. H was late, caught in traffic on 85. That was fine, it gave me time to have a cigarette on the front porch.
When he got to the house, I thanked him for the wine. He handed me a bottle when he came in, but told me he hadn't left the wine on my porch last weekend. So I'm thinking who the hell left it then?? It was too late, I had already drank some at that point, so I just hoped it wasn't some crazed wine-poisoner or something. Then we went through the "What do you want to eat?" thing, which makes me nuts. I had planned on going up to Sushi-Masa, but it was all the way across town, back up blighted highway 85. There is no sushi place close to the house, and neither one of us knew what we wanted to eat. I finally just decided on pizza. There is a fantastic place right up the road that does Greek Italian called Gourmet Pizza. Their food is really good.
We talked and ate, and I managed to polish off half of a huge pizza, after eating a salad. But it was really good pizza. I told him some of my family history (no one should have to endure that all in one sitting), and he told me some stories about people in his congregation, and showed me pictures of his daughter, upon whom he apparently dotes.
When we got back to the house, lo and behold, he had been through his attic and brought me some glass. A nice Miss America pink divided relish (in perfect condition), and a green candy dish and intruguing blue bowl, neither of which I could identify. He also brought me a Carnival Glass covered dish (it looks like a powder jar) with a Scottie dog on the top. He used to have a Scottie, and had apparently picked it up at the time. I thought that was very nice of him. We spent some time talking about glass and looking through the glass books, and he told me about some glass he owned. Apparently he had a huge set of Miss America that his ex took when she left. Too bad.
I told him about my blog, and he said he would read it. I think he was a bit worried about what I had written, although I assured him I had taken steps to assure his anonymity, and had written nothing that would be a surprise to him.
It was much more pleasant to spend time with him when we were not in theological debate. Of course God and religion came up (they tend to do that when you have dinner with a minister). He seems to find it very amusing that when I look up Bible passages, I read them in the King James version first. Apparently that went out with button-shoes. But I tried to treat him pretty much as I would any other friend I was having dinner with tonight, and for the most part it seemed to work. It was a nice evening.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Running errands - &^%$#@!! Christmas
I had things to do on the way home today. I decided after going three places and calling another, that I would just go to the big Wal-Mart on Woodruff to see if they had any lids. If not, I was just going to buy plastic freezer containers and call it a day. I hate going to Wal-Mart (sorry Robert). Not only are their employees underpaid, most of them have no healthcare, over-burdoning public services in the areas where they operate, and forcing the tax-payers to pay for the care of their employees. Also, they are responsible for all the small stores (where I might actually have found what I was looking for) closing down. Instead of a broad spectrum of merchandise, you are confronted with 7,000 of the same 5 limited choices. When I go, I feel like a sell-out. Well they had no lids. I finally found some containers that would work for me (size, shape, freezer seal, etc) and just got them. But so much for giving away apple butter for Christmas gifts. A little jar with a nice bow on it is a thoughtful homemade gift. A plastic freezer container is just giving someone leftovers.
Since I had already sold my soul, I decided to look around. I rarely go in. I ended up buying some soy-nog (much better than it sounds), a small container of milk (for making green bean casserole this week), a couple of boxes of snausages (they are cheaper here), some of that new miracle 24-hour lotion Gold Bond has been advertising (and which I kept forgetting to pick up), and a new dish drainer that almost, but not quite, exactly failed to fit my sink. I always look through the freezer section when I'm there, because they used to carry a broader spectrum of Morningstar Farms products than most of the grocery stores do, and I was really wanting some of the elusive MF Meatballs, which are wonderful, but no dice. If they can't move a thousand units a week of whatever, they just quit carrying stuff. I noticed the veg selection wasn't nearly as wide as it used to be. I noticed at the same time though, that the array of different veggie burgers just keeps growing. Veggie burgers are the fastest selling veggie product, and the companies are serving that market with a bewildering selection of flavors and types.
After about a half hour, I just couldn't take it any more. The Christmas music was playing the whole time. I have nothing against Christmas music in December. I have even made my peace with the fact that since Friday of this week is a huge shopping day and launches the season, they have to put things in place sooner. But whatever dildo chose the music for Wal-Mart this year apparently forgot to medicate before mixing. Never have I heard so many plaintive violins and schmaltzy sad Christmas songs in a row in my life. It is definitely music to slit your wrists and sit in a warm tub by. I just had to get the fuck out of there.
I guess I'm just not ready for Christmas again this year. I really had thought I was doing pretty well lately, and have felt much more like myself, but I underestimated the impact of once again being beaten about the head, ears, and heart by the Christmas Club. I guess for a lot of people, it is the happiest time of the year, and they just can't wait to get started. I used to really love it too. But now, everywhere I look, I see people buying huge carts of food for their families, and couples walking around hand in hand, or herding their children around. The commercials on TV all change over to sexy jewelery commercials. It's just like everywhere I look, I'm being told "You are nothing if you are single." It's like the whole world was invited to this huge month-long party, and you weren't.
Yes I have friends, and I'm very grateful for them. I do enjoy buying and giving gifts to my friends. I will go to the parties and I will socialize. At some I will even enjoy myself. I will see my family. But Lord, how I wish I just didn't have to. I hate trying to find somewhere to be at the holidays just so I don't feel like a loser. I hate not having someone special to do for. I hate the enforced gaiety. I hate wrapping presents home alone while the people on TV get engaged, smooch under the tree, and gather in grinning hordes to sing carols. I don't mind other people doing it. I'm really glad they're all so blissful. I just wish it wasn't forced down my throat. I just wish it all wasn't mandatory, ubiquitous, and piped in to every crevice of society. And yes, I hate feeling like a wet blanket for not wanting to do it all. I hate feeling like I'm spoiling the good time for others if I don't live in constant joy. I hate that it all just makes me feel sad and more alone on the inside. I hate the fact that I can't even hurt honestly, because that would be an imposition on the happiness of others. I can't even lick my wounds in peace. I'm required not only to participate, but to maintain a joyful facade while doing so. It's kind of like high school again. OK, enough whining.
I have decided, though, definitely not to put up the tree. My home, at least, can be some respite.
Appropriately, after that I stopped by the liquor store. I am out of vodka, which is pretty much defcon 1 at my house for the party season. I got some vanilla vodka, and some of that FireFly that I liked so much at Todd's. I also picked up a bottle o booze for my brother-in-law's Chistmas present. I know what he drinks, and my standard brother-in-law gift is anything that there is an excise tax on. Buying straight guy clothes is boring. Buying straight guy toys is mystifying tom me. And that's pretty much all they want for Christmas. Plus, I keep hoping that some folks will pick up the hint, and if they don't know what to buy for me, just get me booze. Something I can use.
I stopped and got some Lo Mein for supper since I had been craving it all day. That actually wouldn't have been too bad if I hadn't also gotten 800 crab rangoons to go with it. They were tasty though.
I had intended not to do the apple butter tonight, but since I have dinner with H tomorrow I won't be able to do it then. So I washed all the containers, filled them, put them in the freezer, and cleaned up all the stuff. Ordinarily, I am officially absolved of all housework on Monday nights, beacuase I really think just showing up to work should be enough. When the kitchen was clean, I was pretty worn out and ready to turn in.
Since I had already sold my soul, I decided to look around. I rarely go in. I ended up buying some soy-nog (much better than it sounds), a small container of milk (for making green bean casserole this week), a couple of boxes of snausages (they are cheaper here), some of that new miracle 24-hour lotion Gold Bond has been advertising (and which I kept forgetting to pick up), and a new dish drainer that almost, but not quite, exactly failed to fit my sink. I always look through the freezer section when I'm there, because they used to carry a broader spectrum of Morningstar Farms products than most of the grocery stores do, and I was really wanting some of the elusive MF Meatballs, which are wonderful, but no dice. If they can't move a thousand units a week of whatever, they just quit carrying stuff. I noticed the veg selection wasn't nearly as wide as it used to be. I noticed at the same time though, that the array of different veggie burgers just keeps growing. Veggie burgers are the fastest selling veggie product, and the companies are serving that market with a bewildering selection of flavors and types.
After about a half hour, I just couldn't take it any more. The Christmas music was playing the whole time. I have nothing against Christmas music in December. I have even made my peace with the fact that since Friday of this week is a huge shopping day and launches the season, they have to put things in place sooner. But whatever dildo chose the music for Wal-Mart this year apparently forgot to medicate before mixing. Never have I heard so many plaintive violins and schmaltzy sad Christmas songs in a row in my life. It is definitely music to slit your wrists and sit in a warm tub by. I just had to get the fuck out of there.
I guess I'm just not ready for Christmas again this year. I really had thought I was doing pretty well lately, and have felt much more like myself, but I underestimated the impact of once again being beaten about the head, ears, and heart by the Christmas Club. I guess for a lot of people, it is the happiest time of the year, and they just can't wait to get started. I used to really love it too. But now, everywhere I look, I see people buying huge carts of food for their families, and couples walking around hand in hand, or herding their children around. The commercials on TV all change over to sexy jewelery commercials. It's just like everywhere I look, I'm being told "You are nothing if you are single." It's like the whole world was invited to this huge month-long party, and you weren't.
Yes I have friends, and I'm very grateful for them. I do enjoy buying and giving gifts to my friends. I will go to the parties and I will socialize. At some I will even enjoy myself. I will see my family. But Lord, how I wish I just didn't have to. I hate trying to find somewhere to be at the holidays just so I don't feel like a loser. I hate not having someone special to do for. I hate the enforced gaiety. I hate wrapping presents home alone while the people on TV get engaged, smooch under the tree, and gather in grinning hordes to sing carols. I don't mind other people doing it. I'm really glad they're all so blissful. I just wish it wasn't forced down my throat. I just wish it all wasn't mandatory, ubiquitous, and piped in to every crevice of society. And yes, I hate feeling like a wet blanket for not wanting to do it all. I hate feeling like I'm spoiling the good time for others if I don't live in constant joy. I hate that it all just makes me feel sad and more alone on the inside. I hate the fact that I can't even hurt honestly, because that would be an imposition on the happiness of others. I can't even lick my wounds in peace. I'm required not only to participate, but to maintain a joyful facade while doing so. It's kind of like high school again. OK, enough whining.
I have decided, though, definitely not to put up the tree. My home, at least, can be some respite.
Appropriately, after that I stopped by the liquor store. I am out of vodka, which is pretty much defcon 1 at my house for the party season. I got some vanilla vodka, and some of that FireFly that I liked so much at Todd's. I also picked up a bottle o booze for my brother-in-law's Chistmas present. I know what he drinks, and my standard brother-in-law gift is anything that there is an excise tax on. Buying straight guy clothes is boring. Buying straight guy toys is mystifying tom me. And that's pretty much all they want for Christmas. Plus, I keep hoping that some folks will pick up the hint, and if they don't know what to buy for me, just get me booze. Something I can use.
I stopped and got some Lo Mein for supper since I had been craving it all day. That actually wouldn't have been too bad if I hadn't also gotten 800 crab rangoons to go with it. They were tasty though.
I had intended not to do the apple butter tonight, but since I have dinner with H tomorrow I won't be able to do it then. So I washed all the containers, filled them, put them in the freezer, and cleaned up all the stuff. Ordinarily, I am officially absolved of all housework on Monday nights, beacuase I really think just showing up to work should be enough. When the kitchen was clean, I was pretty worn out and ready to turn in.
Reasons that I am cranky after work
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Sunday, November 23, 2008
Man, I am TIRED
My beautiful new flannel sheets! Aren't they just darling? I was up at 5am this morning anyway, so I just decided to go ahead and peel the 65,000 apples I bought yesterday and get them ready to go. By the time I got them all peeled, cored, chopped, and in the pot, it was time to go to the flea market. (I had to get potatoes and onions for Thanksgiving, OK?) I didn't find any glass, but got my taters and onions, and some bananas for lunch this week. (None of the apples were really in pretty enough shape for cut fruit.) I picked up a couple of movies, two of the Harry Potters (including the first one, which is my favorite). I had been meaning to buy them, but the wide-screens are hard to find, particularly of the first one. I also bought a copy of The Triplets of Belleville, a quirky little French animated movie that Michael's step-dad Bill turned me on to. I had been meaning to pick up a copy, but was very surprised to see it at the flea market.
When I got home, I had breakfast and a nap. I slept for about an hour. When I got up, I looked around the ruins of a once fairly civilized home. One of the problems has been junk build-up that makes it hard to straighten up. I hauled junk, paint, etc to the out building. Having such a small house, everything has to either be in the way, or stored inaccessibly. After that, I got out my jar horde and didn't think I had enough for the apple butter.
I loaded up the car, hauled off the recycling, and started looking for jars. None at Kmart, BiLo, or Big Lots. I called Wal Mart, and they didn't have any either. Apparently they clean them all out of stock at the end of the year. If you want to put up apple butter, you're just SOL. I got some lids and decided to just freeze the rest after I ran out of jars. I'm making two batches. One is traditional, with cinnamon and cloves. One is just for fun, with candied ginger, some margarine, and Mexican vanilla.
When I got home, I put away the luggage from the beach trip (I know, but it has to go in the attic in plastic bags, and its a total pain), and started washing. I dusted the living room and the bedroom. I vacuumed the rugs and dust mopped the wood in the living room and bedroom. I took out the trash. So the basics are done, and I can let H in the house Tuesday without feeling like white trash, but there is so much more that needs to be done. The problem is that by the time I get the basic stuff done, I'm too tired for deeper stuff. I guess it will still be here when I get ready. Traditionally I deep-clean the living room Thanksgiving weekend before putting the Christmas tree up, but I didn't do it last year. I really need to do it next weekend. I hope I get inspired.
I finished up my small batch of fancy apple butter, and tried to jar it, but the lids I bought were the wrong size (grrrrrr), so I just stuck it in the fridge. I did some laundry, changed my sheets, and put my snuggly new flannel bear sheets on the bed. They didn't pill up like my old ones did in the wash. I hope they don't. I didn't feel like going any where, so I just had a frozen pizza for dinner, and watched the end of The Color Purple. I love that movie. After that I watched a bit of The Triplets of Belleville before turning in. Fox cancelled the line-up tonight, dammit.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
An indulgent Saturday
A picture of the cool old Deco train I found 
A picture from one of the front sections at the Anderson Jockey Lot 
A picture of the water tower at the Jockey Lot, just because I don't think I've had enough pictures on my blog lately :) 
I found this lovely Fire King Jadite tulip vase today in Anderson. So much for my foregoing the flea market because of Christmas. And so much for my not expanding my vintage Fire King collection. I really should have been Christmas shopping today. But I have just had a bellyfull of things I "should be doing" lately. And the house shows it. It is a disaster area. Sigh.
I have no idea what this thing is worth. I've seen it priced all over on the internet, of course. I figure it's worth the $10 I paid for it. I've seen them for $35 in antique stores.
***
When I woke up this morning, I just rolled around in the sheets for a while, luxuriating in the fact that I had no place I had to be. But then I got hungry, so I got up and made one of my favorite breakfasts, which I just happened to have all the ingredients on hand for: scrambled eggs with fresh spinach and Swiss cheese, buttered wheat toast, and French Vanilla french press coffee. Lovely.
After that, I decided to stroll over to White Horse Road flea market. I didn't find any glass there, but bought an assortment of fancy crackers from the gourmet food lady (I am always needing those for something during the holidays), and I found some Winesap apples - my absolute favorite for making baked apples. They are hard to find. These look like culls, but they'll be fine to bake. I'll also have some for my dressing, and some to take with lunch for next week. I can get a lot o mileage out of a half bushel of apples. I might also stir up a pot of crock pot apple butter. I called Mom today and asked her to send me her recipe.
I left White Horse glassless, however, and decided to head over the Anderson just for the heckuvit, even though it was 10 by then. On the way, I stopped at a yard sale, and identified a set of Waterford depression (the pattern, not the crystal) dessert cups and a Diamond Point creamer for a bemused woman. I didn't buy them because the Waterford was clear, and Diamond point was clear and a 40's, 50's, and 60's pattern. I love doing that. There is a TV show in there - called "Glass Hunter" or maybe "The Obsessionist", but Justin and I are the only ones who would watch it.
When I got to Anderson, the first thing I saw was this cool toy train from the 30's. The guy said it was a "Marks" brand. I immediately was thinking it was a possible cool Christmas gift for Rod from Mom, so I called them and sent some pics from my phone, but Mom couldn't figure out how to view the pics, and at $130 I think it was pretty much all the money. It was stamped tin or steel, and had some rust on it. Still, it was a very cool thing.
I did the whole outside section, and even in the full sun, it was pretty bleeping cold. It was 30 degrees F on the way down there, and that's unusually cold for here this time of year. I reflected that the Glass Bug is a harsh mistress. I stopped at the friendly antique store on the way back and had a good rummage, but didn't find anything for me today, although I found something I would have loved to buy for Russ. But I already have his present now. He is easy to buy for, but I kind of need to focus on everyone else - hello.
I ran through the grocery store on the way in, and picked up odds and ends. When I got home, there was a bottle of Pinot Grigio on the front porch. I know it has to be from H, since we were looking for the Sartori the other night at Whole Foods. There was a religious tract on the porch too, and I wondered if he left both. The church in my neighborhood leaves stuff on the porch all the time, but still I thought it was an odd coincidence. When I got inside I realized how bad the house was, and decided I would get cracking on it today, but not before lunch and a nap. I made a big spinach salad for lunch (yes, I have a whole bag of fresh spinach to use up), and then made a Knorr spinach dip out of a package I had thawed in the fridge. It had to sit for two hours though.
In the meantime, I turned on "Fox and Hound" and tried to take a nap. But the scene where the old woman has to take the fox, which she loves very much, and dump him out in the woods pretty much shredded my heart all to pieces, and I found myself weeping into the dishwater as I washed the lunch dishes. I just can't handle those separations where you still love each other. I was crying over the wedding scene in "Muppets Take Manhattan" last year. Haven't been able to watch it since. Sometimes that stuff just hits me like a ton of bricks.
Miss Kat woke me up later, calling to finish our chat from Thursday night, and we talked for a bit. But even after we got off the phone, I just couldn't get motivated. The house is so bad right now that everywhere I look it's horrible. It's hard to know where to start. So I decided to do an entry on my blog :) Probably the most organized part of my life right now, aside from my desk at work.
***
I had thought about visiting with Miss Kat and dana tonight, but a) I was really worn out (I think I may be trying to fight off my boss's Canadian Bug); b) I have a bunch of stuff to do tomorrow; and c) next week the gamut starts. Every December just ends up being a marathon, and I won't have a weekend to my self for the next month. So I made a couple of sandwiches and stayed in, stirred the apple butter, and watched the National Geographic dinousaur marathon on television.
I just woke up and smiled like a newlywed at the thought that I don't have to work tomorrow. The lack of pressure to have to sleep is practically intoxicating to an insomniac. So I've had a glass of water, and I'm thinking of what I'm going to do with my luxury of time this weekend. I don't have one blessed thing I have to do, or one place I have to be, for the first time in weeks.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Well it was Friday anyway
Today was just one of those kind of "meh" days.
I got my write-offs finished and off to California for signature. I put my account review together and had a meeting with my boss. I did all my call-backs.
I finished up my latest Donald E Westlake novel "God Save the Mark" yesterday, which was actually written earlier in his career. It was wonderful, as are all of his books. Intricately worked as a Chinese puzzle box, and each turn delightful. I have a new book that Anna loaned me last week. It's really excellent. It's called "Queen of the Oddballs" by Hillary Carlip. It's a quirky coming-of-age story by a lesbian who has apparently had a pretty amazing life. It reminds me of "Running With Scissors", but the writer is much more alive, and less addicted to aggressive ennui.
I spent a fucking hour getting home from Pelham Hell. Apparently it was "wreck day" today and no one told me. On the way in there was a pile up on the other side of the highway that backed traffic up for five miles behind it, but of course the people on my side had to slow down to rubber-neck, and so backed it up for a mile that way. On the way home tonight, every road was blocked. There must have been another wreck up on Woodruff Road. South Carolinians drive like retarded lemmings.
I still feel kind of yukky. My boss told me that he is sick, and has of course been coming in all week, so I hope I'm not coming down with some strange Canadian bug he brought back with him. (Speaking of strange Canadian bugs, the Evil One is down from the Canadian office this week. I saw her unexpectedly today on my way to lunch and she about scared me half to death. They really should put out warning flares or something when she's around to protect the unwary.)
So basically the best thing I can say about today is that it's Friday. I am really glad to have two days off. The last three days at the office next week should be fairly calm. I have only the audit stuff left to do, and it should be mind-numbingly dull, which is better than being screamed at; and I realized today that I have to prepare for a mediation on Dec 4. That should be short but sweet though, since the guy involved is insane, and there is very little chance of any real negotiation going on.
Geez, I am writing way too much about work. It'll calm down after the mediation is over. My desk has just been nuts lately.
When I (finally) got home, I popped a frozen pizza in the oven and then pretty much levered my head back like a Pez despenser an pushed it and the leftover chips and dip down my throat in front of the tube. There was nothing on (for this I pay for cable?), but by 8pm a Family Guy marathon came on, and I was happy.
I got my write-offs finished and off to California for signature. I put my account review together and had a meeting with my boss. I did all my call-backs.
I finished up my latest Donald E Westlake novel "God Save the Mark" yesterday, which was actually written earlier in his career. It was wonderful, as are all of his books. Intricately worked as a Chinese puzzle box, and each turn delightful. I have a new book that Anna loaned me last week. It's really excellent. It's called "Queen of the Oddballs" by Hillary Carlip. It's a quirky coming-of-age story by a lesbian who has apparently had a pretty amazing life. It reminds me of "Running With Scissors", but the writer is much more alive, and less addicted to aggressive ennui.
I spent a fucking hour getting home from Pelham Hell. Apparently it was "wreck day" today and no one told me. On the way in there was a pile up on the other side of the highway that backed traffic up for five miles behind it, but of course the people on my side had to slow down to rubber-neck, and so backed it up for a mile that way. On the way home tonight, every road was blocked. There must have been another wreck up on Woodruff Road. South Carolinians drive like retarded lemmings.
I still feel kind of yukky. My boss told me that he is sick, and has of course been coming in all week, so I hope I'm not coming down with some strange Canadian bug he brought back with him. (Speaking of strange Canadian bugs, the Evil One is down from the Canadian office this week. I saw her unexpectedly today on my way to lunch and she about scared me half to death. They really should put out warning flares or something when she's around to protect the unwary.)
So basically the best thing I can say about today is that it's Friday. I am really glad to have two days off. The last three days at the office next week should be fairly calm. I have only the audit stuff left to do, and it should be mind-numbingly dull, which is better than being screamed at; and I realized today that I have to prepare for a mediation on Dec 4. That should be short but sweet though, since the guy involved is insane, and there is very little chance of any real negotiation going on.
Geez, I am writing way too much about work. It'll calm down after the mediation is over. My desk has just been nuts lately.
When I (finally) got home, I popped a frozen pizza in the oven and then pretty much levered my head back like a Pez despenser an pushed it and the leftover chips and dip down my throat in front of the tube. There was nothing on (for this I pay for cable?), but by 8pm a Family Guy marathon came on, and I was happy.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
A pretty good day, riiiiiiiigt up until the end
"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers." William Shakespeare, Henry VI, part II Act 4, scene 2
Yeah. It's been that kind of day. The same account that pissed me off yesterday manged to do so again today. My fault for being devoted to duty. They were emailing me right at closing to prevent follow-up, but I decided to stay late to call the soulless bag of guts back. He must be expensive, because his SOB level was pretty much off the charts, and from experience I know that selling one's soul is still expensive - even in this market. I rarely drink after work. My rationale is that if I need a drink, that's the time that I should not be drinking. But I have to say that even though I know it isn't a cure for what ails you, Southern Comfort and Coke makes the symptoms damn bearable.
***
Actually, most of the day was pretty good. I got my write-offs signed, processed, and turned in, except for the big ones that have to go to California. I got both of the paragraphs I needed on the other two I have to write up, and people had been calling me back.
After dealing with the soulless minion of Satan, as noted above however, it was hard to lay the day down. I rarely take work home with me, but William Broussard, Sr., as dispicable as he was, made it into the car with me, and even onto the porch a bit. Eventually I banished him, since keeping him there with me would mark a victory for his ilk.
I went home and made that drink, then went on the front porch and smoked my last three cigarettes. I called Miss Kat and talked to her for a while. I called Eve about Thanksgiving. Apparently I am getting fancy Thanksgiving dinner with them at a place called Richard's. They talk about it all the time, and I have heard about it for years, so I am actually a bit stoked about going. Of course this means I will have to dress up, but so be it.
I ate leftover curry for dinner (purchased with the wages of sin), and talked to Robert for a minute or two before he went to work. Happily, by that point I was in my ole comfy sweats with a kitty on my lap, vegged in front of the tube.
I watched a fascinating special on turkeys; how commercial turkeys are raised, the by-products, etc. It was very interesting. They are looking to turkey feather fibers now to replace plastic, and burning litter to make electricity.
I also watched a new South Park, in which Butters thought he had been turned into a vampire. It was pretty good.
But that drinking early in the evening didn't work out so well for me. I had a headache, and couldn't get to sleep. I eventually took some Tylenol PM and zonked out.
Yeah. It's been that kind of day. The same account that pissed me off yesterday manged to do so again today. My fault for being devoted to duty. They were emailing me right at closing to prevent follow-up, but I decided to stay late to call the soulless bag of guts back. He must be expensive, because his SOB level was pretty much off the charts, and from experience I know that selling one's soul is still expensive - even in this market. I rarely drink after work. My rationale is that if I need a drink, that's the time that I should not be drinking. But I have to say that even though I know it isn't a cure for what ails you, Southern Comfort and Coke makes the symptoms damn bearable.
***
Actually, most of the day was pretty good. I got my write-offs signed, processed, and turned in, except for the big ones that have to go to California. I got both of the paragraphs I needed on the other two I have to write up, and people had been calling me back.
After dealing with the soulless minion of Satan, as noted above however, it was hard to lay the day down. I rarely take work home with me, but William Broussard, Sr., as dispicable as he was, made it into the car with me, and even onto the porch a bit. Eventually I banished him, since keeping him there with me would mark a victory for his ilk.
I went home and made that drink, then went on the front porch and smoked my last three cigarettes. I called Miss Kat and talked to her for a while. I called Eve about Thanksgiving. Apparently I am getting fancy Thanksgiving dinner with them at a place called Richard's. They talk about it all the time, and I have heard about it for years, so I am actually a bit stoked about going. Of course this means I will have to dress up, but so be it.
I ate leftover curry for dinner (purchased with the wages of sin), and talked to Robert for a minute or two before he went to work. Happily, by that point I was in my ole comfy sweats with a kitty on my lap, vegged in front of the tube.
I watched a fascinating special on turkeys; how commercial turkeys are raised, the by-products, etc. It was very interesting. They are looking to turkey feather fibers now to replace plastic, and burning litter to make electricity.
I also watched a new South Park, in which Butters thought he had been turned into a vampire. It was pretty good.
But that drinking early in the evening didn't work out so well for me. I had a headache, and couldn't get to sleep. I eventually took some Tylenol PM and zonked out.
Note for this morning
A) I slept for almost ten hours last night, and I'm feeling much better today.
B) I got a drunk email from my closet-case preacher this morning. Basically, he was explaining that he has to preach for five more years to retire with full benefits, and that he continues to work for the acceptance of gays in his church. He also feels that it will be a powerful witness for him to come out after running a very successful church for 20 years. I think that a lot of people will just see a man who has deceived them for 20 years. He ended by asking me out for next week. My response follows:
"I can certainly understand your wanting to stay on for your retirement. I'm planning my own and I know how that is. But by telling me that you are waiting to come out until after you retire, you acknowledge that a) if you came out, your church would turn on you; and b) that you are deceiving your church - rightly or wrongly. Do I think that gay people should be able to serve as clergy? - absolutely. But I have problems with us sneaking in there.
Before anything else, I feel that those who have a higher calling have a calling to live to a higher standard.
I know that clergy are still humans. I know that clergy still sin. But I don't understand how someone with a calling can instruct the flock while their own life - the most personal part of themselves - is a lie.
I know this sounds probably way harsher than I mean for it to. I just know the things I have done and the price I have paid because I refused to live a lie. It is hard for me to respect someone who has decided to take what appears to be the easy way. I personally don't think that it's easier. I think you pay either way. I can't imagine the strain of having to make sure that no one who knows you really knows you; of never being sure that you have one true friend.
I have been friends with several closet cases in my life, and their reasons are always compelling to them. The rationalizations are always easy to follow. Being openly gay in my own life has caused problems. If I had stayed in the closet until adulthood, I could probably have finished my college eductation - as it was, my father and I were having so many problems I had to move out as soon as I was able. I have given up professional opportunities (working in banking, or to teach elementary school, which I thought seriously about doing at one time) because I knew that these professions would be incompatible with my living a life as free of deception as I could make it.
Yes (H), I will try to be your friend. I would love to show you the movie (I offered to show him Before Stonewall - which I think should be required viewing for all gay people, and would probably do most straight people a lot of good for that matter). I think we are at the point now where we need to move beyond the God stuff - at least as it pertains to my trying to work out where your head is. I think I understand that now. I was a bit freaked by an active minister looking for a gay relationship that he would keep secret. But I understand that preachers have to eat too. It sounds as if you have a nice life.
But. I need to tell you now that we will not be dating. I may be unclear about some of the rationales in your life. But my own are crystal-clear. One of my primary tenets is that I will not be in a relationship with someone who is ashamed of me - or of himself. And on some level, all the closet stuff comes back to shame. There is no way I will hide for five and a half years, or be a "roommate", or "the minister's good friend". I have fought very hard not to be Howard Sprague, (H). I don't intend to go there.
I really can't introduce you to my friends, because I'm not sure that would be good for your secret. The more people that know, the more chance there is of things getting out. I know a lot of people.
So I guess if I've pissed you off or scared you with this email I won't hear from you again. If that is the case, I wish you well.
If you still want to be friends, dinner out Tuesday would be nice. And there's no need to defend your positon. In no way is this email me trying to tell you how to run your life. Those are decisions that you make. It's just me sharing my feelings, and those aren't going to change."
I guess life is a lot easier if you've never read "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand.
B) I got a drunk email from my closet-case preacher this morning. Basically, he was explaining that he has to preach for five more years to retire with full benefits, and that he continues to work for the acceptance of gays in his church. He also feels that it will be a powerful witness for him to come out after running a very successful church for 20 years. I think that a lot of people will just see a man who has deceived them for 20 years. He ended by asking me out for next week. My response follows:
"I can certainly understand your wanting to stay on for your retirement. I'm planning my own and I know how that is. But by telling me that you are waiting to come out until after you retire, you acknowledge that a) if you came out, your church would turn on you; and b) that you are deceiving your church - rightly or wrongly. Do I think that gay people should be able to serve as clergy? - absolutely. But I have problems with us sneaking in there.
Before anything else, I feel that those who have a higher calling have a calling to live to a higher standard.
I know that clergy are still humans. I know that clergy still sin. But I don't understand how someone with a calling can instruct the flock while their own life - the most personal part of themselves - is a lie.
I know this sounds probably way harsher than I mean for it to. I just know the things I have done and the price I have paid because I refused to live a lie. It is hard for me to respect someone who has decided to take what appears to be the easy way. I personally don't think that it's easier. I think you pay either way. I can't imagine the strain of having to make sure that no one who knows you really knows you; of never being sure that you have one true friend.
I have been friends with several closet cases in my life, and their reasons are always compelling to them. The rationalizations are always easy to follow. Being openly gay in my own life has caused problems. If I had stayed in the closet until adulthood, I could probably have finished my college eductation - as it was, my father and I were having so many problems I had to move out as soon as I was able. I have given up professional opportunities (working in banking, or to teach elementary school, which I thought seriously about doing at one time) because I knew that these professions would be incompatible with my living a life as free of deception as I could make it.
Yes (H), I will try to be your friend. I would love to show you the movie (I offered to show him Before Stonewall - which I think should be required viewing for all gay people, and would probably do most straight people a lot of good for that matter). I think we are at the point now where we need to move beyond the God stuff - at least as it pertains to my trying to work out where your head is. I think I understand that now. I was a bit freaked by an active minister looking for a gay relationship that he would keep secret. But I understand that preachers have to eat too. It sounds as if you have a nice life.
But. I need to tell you now that we will not be dating. I may be unclear about some of the rationales in your life. But my own are crystal-clear. One of my primary tenets is that I will not be in a relationship with someone who is ashamed of me - or of himself. And on some level, all the closet stuff comes back to shame. There is no way I will hide for five and a half years, or be a "roommate", or "the minister's good friend". I have fought very hard not to be Howard Sprague, (H). I don't intend to go there.
I really can't introduce you to my friends, because I'm not sure that would be good for your secret. The more people that know, the more chance there is of things getting out. I know a lot of people.
So I guess if I've pissed you off or scared you with this email I won't hear from you again. If that is the case, I wish you well.
If you still want to be friends, dinner out Tuesday would be nice. And there's no need to defend your positon. In no way is this email me trying to tell you how to run your life. Those are decisions that you make. It's just me sharing my feelings, and those aren't going to change."
I guess life is a lot easier if you've never read "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I feel sooooo crappy
I was up three times last night with a fever that kept spiking and breaking, and severe abdominal cramps. Since I don't get a period, the only thing I could find online with those symptoms was Typhoid Fever. Since I doubt I have the Typhoid, I went on to work. Not that I had a choice. I have TONS of work piled on my desk, and it is now only five business days until month end. I don't have a fever any more this morning, but I have that "wrung out like a washcloth" feeling you get after running a fever at night.
I got to the office and did write-offs. All. Fucking. Day. To make matters more fun, I was kind of dizzy, really tired, and my computer had decided it was Special Needs, prompting me at one point to just yank the plug out of the wall and start over.
But I got all the write-offs done (except for two, on which I am of course waiting on components from others, but hey I only emailed my boss for his part on one in mid-fucking-October, so what do I expect). I also by some miracle had time to catch up on calls, get one schizo call from a customer who couldn't read their invoices, and have one account really piss me off before it was time to go home. I dropped the schizo record research in the in-box for in the morning and left. I was beat, and felt terrible.
But tonight I had an appointment to get my hair cut. And I really needed it. My eyebrows were approaching Andy Rooney-esque proportions, which seems to be one of the side-effects of aging. You don't really lose hair, it just moves from your head to your eyebrows and ears.
Russ is all settled in in the new shop, and doing a bang-up trade from a bunch of new clients he just got. I'm really glad he's doing so well. After he transformed me from a member of the Hair-Bear Bunch (those higher in the alphabet than generation x will have to look that one up) back to Steve, he asked if I wanted to go to dinner. Ordinarily I love to get an evening with Russ and Billy for pretty much any reason, but Billy didn't answer his phone, and the longer I sat there, the more I just wanted to go home. So I went on.
I had errands to run anyway. I dropped by CVS to get my prescriptions since I had no hay-fever medicine this morning, and picked up a bunch of crap because I wasn't feeling good. When I'm sick I indulge myself with junk food that I ordinarily don't let myself eat. I bought cashews, caramel granola bars with tons of sugar, and a Reese's Christmas Tree just because it is my favorite candy in the Whole Wide World. I got chips and dip at the grocery store, since I had to stop and get fruit for lunch tomorrow anyway.
When I got home, Pat that I used to work with called. She was asking me for her own recipe back for her Faboo Cheese Ball, which she has never written down because she made it from memory for so long. Had it been anyone but Pat, I would probably have blown them off, but she is such a sweet woman, and has been so good to me, and she's lonely since she retired. I answered her question and talked to her for a bit before she let me go, after which I ate copious amounts of junk food.
I also got a package today. Robert send me a copy of "Sweeney Todd" with Angela Lansbury after reading an old blog post about how much I love that version. It was an incredibly sweet thing to do, and of course I had to call him to thank him. I left a message on his voice mail, then turned off the phone. I was just whooped.
I then brushed my teeth, took some pills, and went to bed.
I got to the office and did write-offs. All. Fucking. Day. To make matters more fun, I was kind of dizzy, really tired, and my computer had decided it was Special Needs, prompting me at one point to just yank the plug out of the wall and start over.
But I got all the write-offs done (except for two, on which I am of course waiting on components from others, but hey I only emailed my boss for his part on one in mid-fucking-October, so what do I expect). I also by some miracle had time to catch up on calls, get one schizo call from a customer who couldn't read their invoices, and have one account really piss me off before it was time to go home. I dropped the schizo record research in the in-box for in the morning and left. I was beat, and felt terrible.
But tonight I had an appointment to get my hair cut. And I really needed it. My eyebrows were approaching Andy Rooney-esque proportions, which seems to be one of the side-effects of aging. You don't really lose hair, it just moves from your head to your eyebrows and ears.
Russ is all settled in in the new shop, and doing a bang-up trade from a bunch of new clients he just got. I'm really glad he's doing so well. After he transformed me from a member of the Hair-Bear Bunch (those higher in the alphabet than generation x will have to look that one up) back to Steve, he asked if I wanted to go to dinner. Ordinarily I love to get an evening with Russ and Billy for pretty much any reason, but Billy didn't answer his phone, and the longer I sat there, the more I just wanted to go home. So I went on.
I had errands to run anyway. I dropped by CVS to get my prescriptions since I had no hay-fever medicine this morning, and picked up a bunch of crap because I wasn't feeling good. When I'm sick I indulge myself with junk food that I ordinarily don't let myself eat. I bought cashews, caramel granola bars with tons of sugar, and a Reese's Christmas Tree just because it is my favorite candy in the Whole Wide World. I got chips and dip at the grocery store, since I had to stop and get fruit for lunch tomorrow anyway.
When I got home, Pat that I used to work with called. She was asking me for her own recipe back for her Faboo Cheese Ball, which she has never written down because she made it from memory for so long. Had it been anyone but Pat, I would probably have blown them off, but she is such a sweet woman, and has been so good to me, and she's lonely since she retired. I answered her question and talked to her for a bit before she let me go, after which I ate copious amounts of junk food.
I also got a package today. Robert send me a copy of "Sweeney Todd" with Angela Lansbury after reading an old blog post about how much I love that version. It was an incredibly sweet thing to do, and of course I had to call him to thank him. I left a message on his voice mail, then turned off the phone. I was just whooped.
I then brushed my teeth, took some pills, and went to bed.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Steve and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
I got up on the wrong side of my life today. I got ready for work, and decided to sign online to get my emails, since I was out of sorts. I decided to go ahead and install the software for Neilson, since they have been driving me crazy about it. I agreed, for some reason, to let them Big Brother my email access. It seemed like and altruistic thing to do at the time. Of course that was before I lost the first disc they sent (admittedly not their fault), and they began leaving messages of a tone that let me know they were going to politely bug the living shit out of me until I followed through. The second disc, which I tried to install this morning, was for the wrong software, and of course won't install.
I got to work, where I have tons o work to do before year end, to find that I had all these fires to put out. I didn't get to finish my self-audit today. I had a million call-backs scheduled, which I knew about, but I found out when I arrived that my boss had moved his Wednesday meeting to today, I had two hours to get ready, no one was expecting the change, and he wanted to add yet another slide to the weekly line-up for which the information not only had to be gathered, but had to be formatted from the ground up. With three fucking edits. That took all morning.
In the afternoon, when I thought I might actually get some work done, the auditors, having decided they haven't sufficiently made my life a living hell this go-round, sent me a piece de resistance of brain-dead mindless labor. The Sarbanes-Oxley effect on auditors was like feeding the mogwais after midnight. Bureaucrats with any authority at all seem to automatically become autocrats (perhaps a way to passive-aggressively pay back society for a lifetime of the Walter Mitty-esque condescension with which society as a whole views accountants). Like most business laws, S-O punishes the innocent who actually try to comply, while the guilty continue to cheerfully lie their way through. I loathe auditors with a passion I usually reserve for instant mashed potaotoes; especially now that they are disproportionately empowered monsters. Apparently they bonus on both the stupidity of their requests, and on the aggravation levels they cause to employees who have a million other, better things to do. One of the main reasons I don't resort to profanity when dealing with them is that I'm sure they get bonuses based on expletive-laced tirades. Fortunately their request was so vague that I could push back for clarification, which will hopefully give me a bit of breathing room until after the year ends.
When the day was finally over, I had a date with H for dinner tonight. On the one hand, I knew it would be good for me to get out, and he is a nice guy. On the other hand, I was exhausted, out of sorts, and really didn't feel like dancing the light fandango with a closet case while worrying about my spiritual health at the same time. I have been thinking a lot about this guy over the last couple of days. He sent me an email the last time we met telling me he wanted a "no-strings" relationship. So I was trying to wrap my mind about the fact that this minister was looking for a fuck buddy.
Apparently I was wrong about that interpretation. He meant "no strings" to mean no sexual expectations. It usually means the opposite in gay lexicon, but of course he would have no way to know that.
I scampered in the door, and was trying to get ready when he knocked. Of course. I should have known better than to think he woud be on GST (gay standard time) and be 15 minutes late. I just put down what I was doing, answered the door, and finished dressing. He had no idea what he wanted to eat, so we went to Saffron, where I hadn't eaten in far too long. He let me drive his car, since he was parked behind and didn't know where we were going. So much for the vow of poverty. This was an expensive sports car with leather interior and power everything. The ride and handling were incredibly smooth, and the accelerator lept forward at the slightest touch like an eager gazelle. After this, going back to the bomber was going to feel like driving a pedal-car.
On the way, I dumped out all the Bible verses that had been running around in my head for the last couple of days. It is amazing the stuff that sticks with you from Vacation Bible School.
(OK, so I know that isn't exactly what they meant by "destroy not with thy meat", but like most things in the Bible, it seems to speak pretty clearly on more than one level. Apparently, it's is also a sin for people to sneak meat into my food, which is pretty cool. But I'm not supposed to judge those who do eat meat either, which I guess I'm going to have to watch.)Romans 14
14 1But him that is weak in faith receive ye, yet not for decision
of scruples. 2One man hath faith to eat all things: but he that is weak eateth
herbs. 3Let not him that eateth set at nought him that eateth not; and let not
him that eateth not judge him that eateth: for God hath received him. 4Who art
thou that judgest the servant of another? to his own lord he standeth or
falleth. Yea, he shall be made to stand; for the Lord hath power to make him
stand. 5One man esteemeth one day above another: another esteemeth every day
alike. Let each man be fully assured in his own mind. 6He that regardeth the
day, regardeth it unto the Lord: and he that eateth, eateth unto the Lord, for
he giveth God thanks; and he that eateth not, unto the Lord he eateth not, and
giveth God thanks. 7For none of us liveth to himself, and none dieth to himself.
8For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; or whether we die, we die unto the
Lord: whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's. 9For to this end
Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord of both the dead and the
living. 10But thou, why dost thou judge thy brother? or thou again, why dost
thou set at nought thy brother? for we shall all stand before the judgment-seat
of God. 11For it is written, As I live, saith the Lord,
to me every knee shall bow,
And every tongue shall confess to God.
12So then each one of us
shall give account of himself to God. 13Let us not therefore judge one another
any more: but judge ye this rather, that no man put a stumblingblock in his
brother's way, or an occasion of falling. 14I know, and am persuaded in the Lord
Jesus, that nothing is unclean of itself: save that to him who accounteth
anything to be unclean, to him it is unclean. 15For if because of meat thy
brother is grieved, thou walkest no longer in love. Destroy not with thy meat
him for whom Christ died. 16Let not then your good be evil spoken of: 17for the
kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness and peace and joy
in the Holy Spirit. 18For he that herein serveth Christ is well-pleasing to God,
and approved of men. 19So then let us follow after things which make for peace,
and things whereby we may edify one another. 20Overthrow not for meat's sake the
work of God. All things indeed are clean; howbeit it is evil for that man who
eateth with offence. 21It is good not to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor to do
anything whereby thy brother stumbleth. 22The faith which thou hast, have thou
to thyself before God. Happy is he that judgeth not himself in that which he
approveth. 23But he that doubteth is condemned if he eat, because he eateth not
of faith; and whatsoever is not of faith is sin.
And you know, Jezebel really wasn't guilty of anything but taking a bath and being seduced. But she still ended up rended by dogs.
Needless to say, after I just kind of dumped all that out (or at least a vague and unstructured synopsis thereof), I was emptied and he was pretty overwhelmed. He did tell me though that he was already "on the path", and that I wasn't leading him to anything. I replied "Honey, you may well be on the path, but I have a turnpike named after me." I am both older than him, and have more experience than him, so it would be hard for me not to see myself as a mentor, or at least a person of undue influence. Not sure how this is going to work out. But eventually at dinner the conversation started again; the food, as always at Saffron, was fantastic. His divorce was apparently quite acrimonious, and although I had been led to believe that was mainly on the part of his wife, after tonight I am more sure than ever that it takes two to tango.
He also told me about how much he loves to preach, and loves his congregation, and how much they love him back. I then pointed out that apparently this is a conditional love, because they would reject him if they knew who he was. He then told me about his wonderful youth director who is apparently a fairly obvious lesbian, and who the congregation also "loves"; and then almost immediately amended the story to say that the parents all loved her, but that he has had do defend her from some older members of the congregation, who can't stand her. I asked if this woman was in a relationship, to which he replied that she was single, but had a "roommate". I then talked about the "Howard Sprague" homosexual.
Howard Sprague was the closet case on "The Andy Griffith Show". He was included because his character was ubiquitous to small town life at the time; a "confirmed bachelor" of suspiciuosly neat appearance and fussy mannerisms, who lives with his mother as an adult. In other words, a closet case. In non-PC words, a queer who knew his place and didn't make waves, like a "good darky". There are just remarkably few homosexuals now who are content to trade their freedom for societal tolerance - and you can bet your sweet ass I'm not one of them. I think I made that pretty clear to H tonight.
But I'm still a bit confused on this minister thing. It's not that I don't think gay people should be able to preach - I absolutely do. It's the deception that bothers me. I pointed out to H tonight that he is lying to all these wonderful people in his congregation that he claims to love. He responded that he hasn't lied because they haven't asked him. The rationalization there pretty much floored me. Not that rationalization is uncommon. I was just really surprised to have a minister, of all people, defend a lie of omission to me.
After dinner, we ran by Whole Foods, since I wasn't quite ready to go home, and I knew things would get awkward again when we got there. I'm continuing to look for Sartori Pinot Grigio. They had never heard of it either, but the very hot wine guy recommended another white to me, so I got a bottle. I also picked up some Quorn Turkey Roast for Thanksgiving, which is happily in stock and available this year.
When we got back to the house, we talked for a while (awkwardly) both of us really feeling (on some level) like we should be making out, but neither one of us really wanting to start it. After a while, I sent him home. I have another day of office hell tomorrow, and it was almost ten.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Dinner in Easley
For some reason I was sleepy all day today. This despite work trying to kill me. I'm staring to panic about year end, now in 7 days! I have a lot to do between now and then, and working through that dumpage from last month has my desk pretty crazy already.
It's shaping up to be a busy week. I have dinner out with H tomorrow night. I'm going to have to talk to him about this whole preacher thing. I know he doesn't want to talk about it on his day off, but I have questions I need answered before anything else happens.
Michael agreed with me when I had dinner with him and Joe in Easley tonight. I hadn't seen them in about two weeks, Michael saw me online today and asked if I was free tonight, which I pretty much was. I needed to bake another tureen of soup tonight, but since Joe was in a seminar and they didn't want to have dinner until 8pm, it worked out fine.
I popped home, popped my soup in the oven, and changed out some laundry loads, then hit the road to meet them.
We ate at Applebees. I don't usually go there because they have a bacon fairy in the back and it ends up in the oddest things. I have gotten quesadillas there that eneded up having bacon in them - after I asked for no chicken or beef. But my food was fortunately bacon-free tonight, even though I forgot to ask. Our waiter was a cutie too. Unfortunately the "dynamite shrimp" weren't buffaloed as I had hoped, but some kind of asian sweet and hot thing, but they were pretty good. By the time we ate though, I was ravenous, and proceeded to eat my food and finish everyone else's as well. It was like that dream sequence Audrey Griswold (the daughter) has on the plane in "National Lampoon's European Vacation". Only in real life.
Joe seems to have recovered well from his surgery, although his knee is still giving him a twinge every now and then.
Between work trying to kill me and Michael trying to get his client's hair caught up before the holiday, we were all pretty worn out. I caught them up on what has been going on with me, and Michael told me about his stuff. Then we went home and went to bed.
It's shaping up to be a busy week. I have dinner out with H tomorrow night. I'm going to have to talk to him about this whole preacher thing. I know he doesn't want to talk about it on his day off, but I have questions I need answered before anything else happens.
Michael agreed with me when I had dinner with him and Joe in Easley tonight. I hadn't seen them in about two weeks, Michael saw me online today and asked if I was free tonight, which I pretty much was. I needed to bake another tureen of soup tonight, but since Joe was in a seminar and they didn't want to have dinner until 8pm, it worked out fine.
I popped home, popped my soup in the oven, and changed out some laundry loads, then hit the road to meet them.
We ate at Applebees. I don't usually go there because they have a bacon fairy in the back and it ends up in the oddest things. I have gotten quesadillas there that eneded up having bacon in them - after I asked for no chicken or beef. But my food was fortunately bacon-free tonight, even though I forgot to ask. Our waiter was a cutie too. Unfortunately the "dynamite shrimp" weren't buffaloed as I had hoped, but some kind of asian sweet and hot thing, but they were pretty good. By the time we ate though, I was ravenous, and proceeded to eat my food and finish everyone else's as well. It was like that dream sequence Audrey Griswold (the daughter) has on the plane in "National Lampoon's European Vacation". Only in real life.
Joe seems to have recovered well from his surgery, although his knee is still giving him a twinge every now and then.
Between work trying to kill me and Michael trying to get his client's hair caught up before the holiday, we were all pretty worn out. I caught them up on what has been going on with me, and Michael told me about his stuff. Then we went home and went to bed.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Ribollita
The Base
1 lb dried zolfini or cannellini (white kidney) beans
2 Tbsp good fruity virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
4-5 fresh sage leaves
freshly ground black pepper
salt
Wash and sort the beans, pulling out stones and discolored beans. Soak overnight as you would any dried beans. Pour off the soaking water and rinse the beans (this cuts down on the gas factor). Put the beans (with fresh water to cover well), pepper, olive oil, garlic, and sage into the crock pot on high. Cook 8-12 hours. When beans are tender and fully cooked, remove one cup whole beans. Puree the remaining beans, garlic, and sage in the cooking liquid. Salt lightly. (You can't salt dried beans before you cook them - it makes the skins tough.)
The Stew
1/4 cup olive oil
2 medium yellow onions
2 carrots
2 ribs celery
2 potatoes
1 large bunch of swiss chard
1 bunch kale (black kale is really good in this, if you can find it)
1/2 small savoy cabbage
1 can chopped Italian plum tomatoes
3 slices day old bread (staler the better)
salt and pepper
Peel and chop onions. Add to large pot with olive oil and cook until softened and browned. Wash and chop the remaining vegetables, adding them to the pot. Cook them until the greens wilt. Add the bean puree from the base recipe. Simmer the stew for about an hour, until the vegetables are very tender. Add the reserved whole beans and the bread. Salt and pepper to taste. You can eat the soup like this, but the re-heating is what makes it that much better.
Ladle the soup into a earthenware or terra cotta baker (I think Corningware would work fine, I just happen to have a terra cotta baker, and that is the way it is traditionally made). Heat in the oven for about an hour at 375 F, until bubbling. Stir occasionally for the first half hour, but during the last 30 minutes, let a crust bake onto the top of the stew. Serve drizzled with good virgin olive oil ( it really makes a huge difference).
Enjoy!
The Base
1 lb dried zolfini or cannellini (white kidney) beans
2 Tbsp good fruity virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
4-5 fresh sage leaves
freshly ground black pepper
salt
Wash and sort the beans, pulling out stones and discolored beans. Soak overnight as you would any dried beans. Pour off the soaking water and rinse the beans (this cuts down on the gas factor). Put the beans (with fresh water to cover well), pepper, olive oil, garlic, and sage into the crock pot on high. Cook 8-12 hours. When beans are tender and fully cooked, remove one cup whole beans. Puree the remaining beans, garlic, and sage in the cooking liquid. Salt lightly. (You can't salt dried beans before you cook them - it makes the skins tough.)
The Stew
1/4 cup olive oil
2 medium yellow onions
2 carrots
2 ribs celery
2 potatoes
1 large bunch of swiss chard
1 bunch kale (black kale is really good in this, if you can find it)
1/2 small savoy cabbage
1 can chopped Italian plum tomatoes
3 slices day old bread (staler the better)
salt and pepper
Peel and chop onions. Add to large pot with olive oil and cook until softened and browned. Wash and chop the remaining vegetables, adding them to the pot. Cook them until the greens wilt. Add the bean puree from the base recipe. Simmer the stew for about an hour, until the vegetables are very tender. Add the reserved whole beans and the bread. Salt and pepper to taste. You can eat the soup like this, but the re-heating is what makes it that much better.
Ladle the soup into a earthenware or terra cotta baker (I think Corningware would work fine, I just happen to have a terra cotta baker, and that is the way it is traditionally made). Heat in the oven for about an hour at 375 F, until bubbling. Stir occasionally for the first half hour, but during the last 30 minutes, let a crust bake onto the top of the stew. Serve drizzled with good virgin olive oil ( it really makes a huge difference).
Enjoy!
A long Sunday
In which I wasted a lot of time, but enjoyed myself. When I got up this morning and checked my messages, Robert was already up and signed on to Bear411. After talking to him for a while online, and then for longer on the phone, we decided to have lunch. I drove up and we went for Mexican. We had a good lunch. He's really funny and smart, and laughs in all the right places. I love that in a guy.
After lunch, I decided to see if I could find the expensive antique place to see if the ruby red bubble bowl I didn't buy the last time I went up was still there. It was! I was so happy. Every other bowl in the stack had been sold, but it was still there. I knew I wanted it, but his was like it was just supposed to be mine. Of course I bought it.
Bubble 8 3/8" large berry bowl in ruby red by Anchor Hocking, circa 1940-1965
I also found a Glasbake loaf pan out on the "porch" section of the store in the pattern I collect. It has a some fleabites around the inside of the rim (obviously where things have been cut in it), and it was probably over priced. I paid $9 for it. But I really liked it, and hadn't seen a loaf pan like it before.
Glasbake #254 etched loaf pan by Mckee Glass, circa 1917-1953
After that we picked up one of the handy direction fliers they hand out there, and went on in to the Inmann Antique Mall. Surprisingly, I didn't find anything there today.
By this time, it was getting on into the afternoon, and I had been playing way longer than I should have. So I dropped Robert by his place and headed home. I got some gas, and finally bought some shampoo on the way home, since I've been low for days, and just kind of hoping to get one more shower out of what I had.
I started working on my Ribollita when I got home. Good thing my beans were all ready to go, and that I've made this recipe so many times before. I make it every year. It's a hearty twice-cooked Tuscan white bean and bread soup. The dish has kind of become a tradition for me - one of the harbingers of Fall. I usually make it around Halloween, but with the beach trip being late and all this year, I just have gotten around to it.
After it was done and on to simmer, I did some laundry and watched the Sunday night line up on Fox before turning in. But not before having a big steaming bowl of hearty Tuscan stew. Mmmmmmmmm
After lunch, I decided to see if I could find the expensive antique place to see if the ruby red bubble bowl I didn't buy the last time I went up was still there. It was! I was so happy. Every other bowl in the stack had been sold, but it was still there. I knew I wanted it, but his was like it was just supposed to be mine. Of course I bought it.
Bubble 8 3/8" large berry bowl in ruby red by Anchor Hocking, circa 1940-1965I also found a Glasbake loaf pan out on the "porch" section of the store in the pattern I collect. It has a some fleabites around the inside of the rim (obviously where things have been cut in it), and it was probably over priced. I paid $9 for it. But I really liked it, and hadn't seen a loaf pan like it before.
Glasbake #254 etched loaf pan by Mckee Glass, circa 1917-1953
After that we picked up one of the handy direction fliers they hand out there, and went on in to the Inmann Antique Mall. Surprisingly, I didn't find anything there today.
By this time, it was getting on into the afternoon, and I had been playing way longer than I should have. So I dropped Robert by his place and headed home. I got some gas, and finally bought some shampoo on the way home, since I've been low for days, and just kind of hoping to get one more shower out of what I had.
I started working on my Ribollita when I got home. Good thing my beans were all ready to go, and that I've made this recipe so many times before. I make it every year. It's a hearty twice-cooked Tuscan white bean and bread soup. The dish has kind of become a tradition for me - one of the harbingers of Fall. I usually make it around Halloween, but with the beach trip being late and all this year, I just have gotten around to it.
After it was done and on to simmer, I did some laundry and watched the Sunday night line up on Fox before turning in. But not before having a big steaming bowl of hearty Tuscan stew. Mmmmmmmmm
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