Buck Up, It’s Fall!

So it’s cuffing season again, and HIE is gunning to make some changes in his approach to love.  And also in his approach to his career and his free time.  Basically a total overhaul.  Except, I’ve been beaten down by the weight of so many failed attempts to make positive life changes that I don’t have much faith in them.  Also, my library card stopped working mysteriously today (in the app), and the local branch was closed, despite having open hours on Mondays.

Conspiracy? Columbus Day?

Probably the first one, because as we all know, no one celebrates Columbus Day anymore, what with the bad rap expansionism/colonialism/genocide has gotten. Continue reading Buck Up, It’s Fall!

Secret Box

I’ve got a box of old letters hidden under my bed.  Ok, it’s actually in my closet.  I don’t keep shit under my bed because I live alone, have a ton of space, and am a goddamn adult.  Anyway, the box is one of several low priority items that live on a shelf that’s hard to reach.  Stuff like the box my laptop came in lives up there.  And a bag I bought to carry a vintage alesis drum machine I got when it was not vintage at all.  Incidentally, I mAlesis SR-16ade some really killer beats this one hour back in ’94 when I managed to hook that thing up.  I even saved them.  I bet they’re still saved and it still works and I’ll be famous soon. Continue reading Secret Box

Ok, Getting Serious

One of the biggest hurdles to writing this memoir I’m cooking is unpacking my relationship with my dad.  When he died about 5 years ago (right after I shipped off to exile), we hadn’t spoken in about 8 years.  The years before that weren’t exactly full of quality time either.  In fact, he’d been at a fair distance my whole life, and especially after I hit high school.  Most of that was my doing, in the sense that it was my choice to shut him out of my mind and heart, so of course now that he has the ultimate last word (that of no last word forever), I can’t compare our memories of key events, or really try to understand him and his motivations and fears.  It makes it really tough to find some truths about what made me the guy I am today.  And it’s plain sad, too. Continue reading Ok, Getting Serious

Everything’s Rusting

So I think I’ve managed to keep the updates so few and far between that I’ve lost all my (2) readers.  Sorry, you guys.

It’s been pretty fucking humid lately, and I’ve noticed a new problem with the house.  RUST.  rust? Yeah, my apartment is rusting. I noticed it on my toothbrush holder first, like 2 months ago.  These little blackish spots had been appearing in the well that the bottom of the brush rests in, and I thought it was mildew or mold or something equally disgusting  I would scrub it off, but it would come back a few days later… long story short it’s rust.  There’s rust on most of my “stainless steel” appliances, too.  Even the faux steel veneer on my frigidaire junk.  Of course, in the course of trying to scrub it all off I realized there’s some caked on gunk on the handles of everything.  I don’t think I’ll ever get it off.  Until maybe i sell the place.

Another victim of the humidity: my orchids.  I have three orchids here, and I’m not sure how many of you know what the deal with these things is, but orchids are fucking hard to take care of… apparently.  You get them with these beautiful flowers in bloom and some vague “don’t water too much” instructions.  And they do fine for maybe a few weeks.  And then the flowers shrivel up and fall off one by one. If your home is incredibly humid, that is.  The one I have at work in the AC and the dry air is doing fine… even though I accidentally burnt it in direct sunlight.

Lastly, I went out with some friends to celebrate this guy’s 30th birthday this weekend… the old lady and I were expecting to be like one of maybe 10 guests and the least close/connected to them.  But other than the guy’s roommate and wife, there was only one other person.  Interesting.  I’m not sure what I think about that.  I like to think I don’t have any friends and that it’s because of my specific situation/personality.  But man.  30.  I may have actually had more people at my 30th… although I can’t remember at all what I did.  I remember what I didn’t do, though.