So, shoveled

So, I hated my decision which was to go home, plant a tree, go to the second job and then rush home before it was too late to cook that pork that is sitting in the frig.

So, I got home.
So, I got the shovel from the area in the basement where I keep some of the gardening stuff.
So, I planted the tree. It took about thirty eight minutes, the whole project, from turning my key in the lock on my door to leaving the shovel in my dining room that's under renovation. I thought thirty eight minutes was good.

So, then I grabbed my truck key and went to the second job. The plan for there was to upload a little text file to the root directory of the web page so that some company could be assured that we own the web site.

So, things then started to run not smoothly. The email I had didn't have an attachment like it claimed to have. So, I walked downstairs to the owner's office to see the original email which also had no attachment.

So, I posted something and told the owner blah, blah, blah when I got another email asking about custom calendar magnets.

I'm on a schedule here people!

The web site for custom calendar magnets was all rather vague and didn't contain the info I needed so I had to send off an email.

So, it was quarter past seven when I closed my computer down which was too late for cooking pork.

I hadn't been filling my bird feeders for quite some time partly because I felt natural bird food was plentiful but mostly because I'm lazy but I filled them to overflowing on Sunday after I noticed a titmouse pecking at the empty holes and I felt I had been losing out on watching my little feathered neighbors.

I was walking across the marketplace when I noticed she changed her direction so we would meet. I didn't know if she did purposefully or not so I changed my angle slightly. She matched that one too.

"She a beggar," crossed my mind as I continued to walk straight and when I was close enough she started with her story about how she needed money for the train. There is always that instant moment when I want to explain that I'm not buying their story; that I know there is no train to catch but I never do. I figure: what's the point?

I had just settled my bar bill so I knew about how much I had in my pocket, it was more than I usually give. I was straightening the few bills I pulled from my pocket as she continued with her story. I have a habit of unfolding all the corners and lining up the bills so they are all facing the same way. After I finished with the bills in my hand I reached for what was left and arranged them to the others.

I was watching the space just to the left of her. She was watching the money. It was close to thirty eight bucks; it was all the paper money I had. Her story wasn't anything I haven't heard a dozen of times before; and she didn't look particularly needy but I just handed it to her anyway. I think she thanked me. I don't really know I was too busy walking away.

So,...

It's looks like I've run out of things to say.

I cooked that turkey three days after Thanksgiving. I was thankful for that.

I'm a bit weary.

I dream at counter top height.

My niece told one our her aunts "You're the king of Timmy," so I guess that makes her a king maker. I didn't know she had that authority. My sister's reign was short, however.

I see photos but I keep my camera hid.

So, Like an Ulcer

So, sometimes I worry that I'm stealing unrat's thing with all the 'so's' he has in his sidebar even though I've used 'so' a lot, even though in my flesh and blood life I'll start the telling of a story with "So."

I do that with the blog too; but usually I just don't type it out. There was a post about my use of 'so.' I can trace it back, here on this blog for years and even further in my memory but still...

It's like when Tom Petty was telling a story about when Johnny Cash sang "I Won't Back Down," Petty said "After I heard John sing it, I wish I had never done it. He just sang it with so much conviction."

I worry only just a little because I don't think he really cares if I say "So" or not.

So,...

There are those who use 'so' better than I but it is what it is. At least here anyway.

It's the day before Thanksgiving. I hope I won't die of boredom.

I don't get riled up too much; there is a part of me that I let blow off steam but it's all internal. I'll ask that part of me "Are you done now?" after the dust settles. And then I go about my business.

So, I just remembered why I started typing earlier, it was to say that sometimes I don't read certain blogs because the author writes too real. Sometimes, it's just too much of an emotional trip than I want to take at the moment.


...

There are times that I think I'm a sucker for staying, that my effort is unrequited, that my caring goes unmatched.

It was an odd reaction, being relieved to hear she is having some stress related heath problems. I feel I've been dying slowly for over a year, I was glad to hear that I wasn't alone. Misery loves company, I guess.

I was relieved but I also realized that I should stop being a prick, even if I can somehow justify it.

thankful of shit

So, one thing I'm not thankful for is that the ads were do a day earlier. I did my part but others didn't do theirs so I got to do ads two days in a row.

"She says "Thanks""

I say "Fuck her" but I say it to myself. Don't have the receptionist second hand me one of your messages; pick up the phone your damn self.

Outward though, there is just a sly smile. For me anger is often mean creative energy that I let explode in controlled areas, usually in my the thinking area of my head. Then I move on, after I make a note.

So, angry

So, I have to admit...

That's how I was going to start this post but then I got to thinking that I don't really have to it's just that I will admit to it.

So, I was bothered by the first check, it was for a bonus basically, the second check was one the owner had handwritten and was for an advance, the third check was for four grand and I wanted to be angry with that one too but it was written to a person who hasn't seen a check in awhile and I could relate to that.

I thought about the fourteen checks sitting in my drawer. I wanted to gather them up, shove them in an envelope with a note asking "What about these?"

I'm told I'm appreciated but I would rather see it. I'm starting to need to see it.

I'm at odds with my own morals.

I kept the checks in my drawer after I asked myself if even all those checks could be made good would that money make me happy. Money doesn't make me happy; it just gets rid of some worries and at the moment I've got a handle on my worries.

I was disappointed with myself; and I still am.

Another thing that bothers me that I'll do what I think is right but I'll be angry about it.


I first saw the following link on Melissa's site and then I saw it on a site of a local blogger. I don't list local bloggers on my site because I think I remain more secret that way.

http://freerice.com/

I think my highest score what a thirty six which was a disappointment to me. But then I would mostly guess wrong when it came to guessing because I wasn't going with my gut.

So, I forgot I had a photo

So like spam

o, I tended to my vibrating pants. It was an agent asking me if the owner had spoken to me about a bonus for a thousand dollars. Previously, she submitted a file and stated that the owner agreed to give her a bonus; when I questioned the owner about she said that the agent misunderstood and that she was only entitled to the bonus if the property had sold at a higher price.

I then questioned on whether or not I should talk to the agent before I deducted for an advance she received, according to the agent's instructions. The owner said that I didn't have to, so I didn't.

The point is: it was a rather involved conversation the owner and I had and now it appeared that the owner was changing her mind.

I told the agent that nothing was mentioned to me. I then wondered when I'm going to be just brought up to date with my own pay never mind any bonuses.

Don't work for friends unless you're a fan of heartache, I guess is my tale of woe.

...

I sent myself an email and it went to spam.

I'll show you the way

So, I got a call from the front desk and she said with some surprise that Sgt Smith was asking for me and she wanted to know what to do. I told her that I would be right out.

I hadn't seen the Sergeant in quite some time; not since his promotion. He was looking for something, he personally didn't know what it was other than what it was called and that my Department should have it.

What he needed wasn't in my realm of responsibility but he correctly assumed I knew where to get. He thought it better to just find me then to try and call around.

So... I forgot

So, he seems to have the worst memory. If my mom every gets Alzheimer's I shipping her off to a home.

That's not true but my patience would definitely be tried though; I have a hard time recognizing that you can remember something one time and then forget it the next.

So obsolete

So, it's probably the worst plan I have had to deal with; I'm not certain anything is accurate and it's too dangerous to get lots of measurements out in the field. Or maybe I'm being a baby in not wanting to measure four lanes of high speed traffic.

...

Dude take the crap out of you're mouth when you're speaking. Or is your tongue just too big from your vile mouth?

...

I love it when folks ask you for directions and then they start to argue with what you say.

...

I have to use three vacation days before the end of the year; I thought I was using more vacation days than last year because I had less than two week's worth left but two week's worth of vacation days is ten not fourteen. I can only carry ten days into the shiny new year.

Personal time; I've used a day and a half which leaves two and a half days which will disappear December 31st.

...

So, he's been back an hour and a half and he is already worrying about things he should worry about. He thinks things are more difficult and more important then things really are.

"Did you meet with the guy?" he asked.

"No, I talked to him on the phone."

My paperwork wasn't consistent with what he had told me the guy wanted but then I rarely trust what he says because he doesn't know how to listen. My paperwork was very consistent with what the guy requested.

"Things are running fine without you," I want to say but I believe that is what he is worried about.

So, as I typed in all the streets...

So, as I typed in all the streets to my former neighborhood, I couldn't place half of them, but the problem wasn't with me, the problem was with the list I was using.

The list was on the back of some horrible looking map that someone in the real estate office decided to put the company's name on and pass out to clients.

The list had streets that didn't exist in addition to a boat load of typographical errors as well as omissions. I couldn't understand how anybody even vaguely associated with any business that touches what is known as marketing would have anything to do with this horrible map.

Stuff like that riles up my blood.

...

I told her that I would be by on Sunday during the Open House to take some pictures because the ones she provided had the same value as dog droppings.

I walked in and sighed a bit; there was a layer of dust seemingly everywhere and rosin paper covered the hardwood floors. I asked myself "Doesn't anybody know anything about marketing?" When I got to the kitchen, things were no better, the panel for the electrical box was leaning against the wall beneath the rectangular recessed box of exposed wires and the protective plastic was still on most of the appliances.

There wasn't anything I could do about the dust but I help her remove the plastic from the appliances and think I got a decent shot or two; the lighting could have been better. I think I'm going to get a shoe flash.

Blah. blah, blah. Then the next day I mowed the lawn and cooked teriyaki marinated chicken breast.

Oh, and I rearranged the shed so that the snow blower is right in front of the door; for easy access you know.

untitled

They weren't planting this

11-08-07

I think this was going to be longer or maybe even have a point but..

So, I forgot to upload that post but if you're reading this then it's probably below this one.

Everyday this week, so far (I'm writing this on Thursday). I haven't done that in a while. I would like to say what a difference a day makes but it's more like the difference a dollar makes.

I still am not seeing many dollars but at least our vendors are. I was worried the ad wouldn't run because someone was dropping the ball.

I thanked her when she mentioned that the check was sent out. I kept quiet after she said "No, thank you for getting me to do it."

I still get calls from others because I can still get results. I hate hounding folks but certain things need to be done.

Silence sometimes is white hot gold

So, that's the type of shit that drives me bonkers.

Bonkers wasn't my first choice of words but when it popped into my head as a synonym how could I not use it.

"That's bonkers!"

"That's crazy bonkers!" - I think I'm going to use that all the time.

So, anyway...

I was there late and this time it wasn't because I was downloading porn but I was actually busy making print ads. I hadn't done a print ad for months and months and when I got a phone call from the publisher of the paper, he seemed actually pleased that I had emailed over the PDF's.

"It's been awhile."

"Yeah. Well, you know I put the date in the file name and the last one was in June."

"Yeah, I was going to say that long ago since Summer."

"You know it may have been even longer because that's when I last wrote the ad, the last time it ran was a few weeks before that, so maybe since May."

I knew why he was calling; the company still owes money. He's a good man so I brought the issue up for him.

"*The Owner* said she was going to call you, I'll betting she hasn't yet."

"Nope, not yet."

"When do you need a check by?"

"To run an ad in this Saturday's paper, I would need a check in my hand by four o'clock today."

"Okay, I'll let her know. How much is it?"

He told me the amount eleven and a half thousand or so, and then I asked him to have someone check the files that I had sent over because I had upgraded to Adobe Acrobat 8 and I was certain it changed some of my presets.

I called the owner after I hung up with him and left her a voice mail with all the particulars. I received no word from her by noon thirty so...

(I just made noon thirty up, I was trying to trick you into thinking that some folks actually say noon thirty)

...I called the office and left a message for her to call me. And when I got no calls from her by one thirty I called again. I finally reached her by two forty five.

"Hey, did you get my message from this morning?"

"I did."

"Yeah, it's just that he said he needs a check today." I paused to give her a chance to say something but she said nothing. "By four."

"How much was does he need?"

"It was eleven thousand five hundred and something something."

"Okay."

"He said he has a courier that he uses and he'll give you the info if you call."

"Okay."

I wanted to say something like "What the holy fuck have you been waiting for?" but it isn't my company so I just said "Alright, bye"

If it were a block and a half, I wouldn't have voted

"Turnout at polls lowest in decades"

I exited the subway station and turned right, just as always, and started to plan out the rest of my day. Going to vote was at the top of the list. My voting place is a block away from the station, but it was a block to the left. I thought about walking home and then stopping as I was going to be driving past on my way to the second job but that hit me as ridiculous.

I crossed the street and heading in the opposite direction, there were only a few people to hound me as I made my way into the polling place; I knew two of them by name. I filled three ellipses with my black marker with the fine tip and then walked it over to the cop reading a paperback.

After I told him my address and name, he checked me off and added another hash mark to the bottom of that page which doubled the amount of hash marks.

People get the government they deserve.

Forget Your Letter of Salvation

So, I pick up the phone and the dude starts the conversation by saying that I'm the third person that he has spoken to in about one minute's time.

I think that he's making pretty good progress. He states that there is a very dangerous situation and that if something isn't done there will be a tragedy. I tell the gentleman that we need a letter. I tell him this because all requests of this nature require something in writing.

"You mean I have to write a letter?"

In my head, I get ready the list of reasons why we need a letter before I say "Yes."

"Goodbye."

How important is the issue to you if you won't jot down a sentence and put a stamp on it?

Mostly, I'm a squanderer

So, the thing of it is is that it's an escape.


http://www.zanabriski.com/


http://www.kids-with-cameras.org/home/


The more that the things that I try to put off...

Do you ever think you hear voices coming from your computer speakers when there shouldn't be making any noise? I wish I could hear what those voices are saying. Or so I think.

Things in my life request my attention. Usually, I'll put off those requests until no longer can they be put off.

First job, second job, Lady G, my house, personal development, are all to a point where things can't be put off.

Make or break.

Sometimes I just want to break, or so I think.

Things are cutting into my bar time. Things are cutting into my blogging time.

There are times that I wish I were a hermit, or so I think.


It's not the booze, it's the bar. Now that most of my favorites are gone, I'm not there much. Back to the day life I guess.

Mostly, I'm a squanderer.

Jess has notable taste in music

The day after he heard is when he told me that she quit. I was a little surprised; she seemed like the type that would give some sort of notice, so I figured something out of the ordinary happened.

It was still just hearsay until I went in on what was usually her day shift and the manager was pouring beers. Later that day I sent her a message on Myspace: I told her that I thought she deserved more peace in her life.

She didn't say much in her reply as to why she left, other than she had a bad couple of days. Working in a dive bar while trying to finish college is reason enough to quit but I'm pretty sure something else came up.

She said she might see me later this week. I'll miss her even though she was a Yankee's fan.

...

She approached after I tossed the two CD's into a slot for DVD's as I counted my cash. I was certain I was going to be chastised for putting them as I saw her pointing them and I readied my defense.

"That's a great CD."

I looked up, surprised.

"That Gus Gus is a great CD. Not that you asked."

I just smiled. I went to get a Tom Petty CD and it was only ten bucks so I figured I would get another CD and noticed Forever by Gus Gus also for ten bucks. I only know about Gus Gus because Jess made one of their songs available.

I only about Jess because of Radio Humper

I only know about Radio Humper because of TRUE

I only know about TRUE because of Angelina

I only know about Angelina because I'm a smartass at times and followed a link from a link from a link. And all those unnamed folks have been forgotten.

...

"We're twenty shy of five hundred for the bake sale."

I was asked for the recipe

They are called p i z z a wheels.

She asked if I was going to bake anything and when I said "I don't know," she said "I know you don't bake." She said it like she has heard that excuse from everybody else. There are few things worse than having to bake for a bake sale and one of this is having to organize a bake sale.

"No. It's just that I have to work Thursday night and then you have to bring your stuff with you in on the train."

"Right, you do bake. You're good at it too."

"I'll try but I'm not going to promise."

She left seemly heavy hearted but not just because of me, so Friday morning I showed up with some stuff.


you roll stuff up inside a sheet of puff pastry.




and then you cut the roll into round





and then you bake them for about twenty minutes.





and then you bake mini blueberry muffins just in case your p i z z a wheels don't hit it off.


The muffins were from a box but I used half and half instead of milk and melted butter instead of vegetable oil. I did use eggs for the eggs, though.

Freaking bake sale.


The sale lasted only two hours; my stuff didn't sell out like it did last time but then neither did anybody else's. The leftovers where relocated to the lunch room and on your honor you were supposed to leave money.

I checked the lunch room two hours later hoping to buy some of my own things but they were gone. I heard over three hundred and fifty dollars was raised.

Halloween