I gave them cash because they already have enough junk

By chance we were in the elevator together.

"So, is the one bloody nose the worst that happened?"

"Yeah, and that wasn't too bad because at least her parent was there."

That little girl that got the busted nose had the hottest mom there and my own 67 year old mother was the second hottest. The pickings were slim and by slim, I mean nonexistent.

If I'm going to feel obligated to show up at my eight year old niece's birthday party then I think there should be at least a few hot moms around. It was actually a joint birthday party between my two oldest nieces.

I'm not trying to get smarter, I'm trying to get less dumb

I wish someone would pay me money to work on my house.

…

I’m trying to read more. I think reading makes you smarter.

Unless you’re reading dumb shit.


...

I was at my niece’s eighth birthday party on Sunday. It was the first time that I was at my sister’s house but that’s a different issue.

There were kids everywhere and just a few adults, not counting my immediate family and myself, there were six adults. The number of kids was over twenty five.

I got there at about quarter of two; the invite said that the party was scheduled for one. I say by my two younger sisters and my mom. “So what, did people just come by and drop their kids off?” I asked.

There was a large inflatable water slide set up on the side yard, a bouncey house set up nest to that and then a six foot in diameter kiddie pool about two and a half feet deep set next to the swing/play set. There were lots of places for kids to be and those places were spread out.

The rules as I could gather were that there was to be no jumping into the kiddie pool and no one was allowed into the upper portion of the play set.

It was a crazy scene of mostly unsupervised children and about three minutes after I first arrive a little girl was leaking blood from her nose into a beach towel.

I sat watching, hoping not to see what I was very much expecting to see and I would notify my mom who was acting somewhat as a co-host as to certain dangers that I saw.

I left when the pinatas came out and I hoped that my sister’s insurance was up to date.

I will probably cook a duck someday, just to be able to say that I had cooked a duck

That cashier at Borders is dead behind the eyes.

I had waited as long as I could to mow the lawn which turned out to be Sunday at 3:30PM. Half way through the back yard, I remembered that I through away a 16' boat in the household trash. It took awhile. I cut it up into barrel size pieces and every trash day would toss out a couple pieces more. At the time, I had thought nothing of it but now when I think of it, I shake my head.

After finishing mowing the back yard, the side yard and the front yard. I peeled off my sweat soaked clothes and heard the first crack of thunder.

I didn't because it sounds sarcastic

Maybe, I'm mean.

Maybe, I'm rude.

Maybe, I'm both.

I want her to stop talking. I want to find out what her schedule is so I can avoid her. I would rather not see her ever again.

"Do you like to cook?"

"Sometimes," I answer because I fell that is better than, "No, I just like to buy expensive cookbooks with 40% off coupons," even though it's truer.

She then tells me about her Fanny Farmer cookbook and how it's the best general cookbook she has found, and how it's better than the "Joy of Cooking;" it's a story she has told me before.

She watches me. I avoid looking at her, mostly, until I feel her eyes on me. She asks if I've read some title I've never heard of. I assume her question is precipitated by the other two books put I had placed on the counter, paperbacks from the "buy one get one at half price" table. When I answer, "No," she then tells me that I should.

I stand silent as she finishes ringing me up.

She hands back my credit card and says, "Have a nice day, Timothy."

16 is better than 28 but it still ain't good.

Because I'm cooler than you I don't have to work on Breed's Hill Day. Although, it's not actually called Breed's Hill Day.

So, I had planned to take things slowly on my day off, maybe mow the lawn, maybe bake some bread, maybe read a book, or at least some of a book. I started by making coffee and it was a pretty good pot of coffee, I still don't know how I can get such a range of flavor by making coffee precisely the same way every time.

Anyway, when I was in the bathroom, I heard a drip and the drip was coming for the same location as a drip that I fixed a couple of days before so at first I thought maybe I hadn't tightened something properly, but I found out that it was a brand new drip.

The tank on the toilet was dripping from the handle. Personally, I've never seen this problem before mostly because it isn't supposed to happen. The innards of a toilet have an overflow valve that keeps your tank from overflowing and normally this overflow valve is at a point lower than the hole for the lever but mine was such a way that they were just about at the same height so when the fill valve malfunctions the handle hole would drip.

I thought, "No big deal. I'll just replace the fill valve that is malfunctioning," and I even thought that I had one in the basement. In the basement, I notice a lot of water, too much water to be of any good, water coming from the hot water heater. I think I might have said, "Son of a bitch."

Replacing a hot water heater isn't too difficult but it certainly wasn't something I wanted to do on my day off.

I drove to Home Depot and looked at the 40 gallon tanks; it was a 40 gallon tank that was leaking. The price difference between a 40 and a 50 gallon wasn't too much and my house is a two family home and two family homes are supposed to have something larger than a 40 gallon hot water heater, so I got the 50.

It's a 12 year tank, top of the line and with the parts and fittings that I needed, it cost me $765. I had hoped that the value of the house increased somewhat with the larger water heater.

I got the heater into the basement, with some help and some effort and then cut the box away from it and noticed a rather large dent at the top. I let out a breath. The box had shown no signs of damage so I wasn't certain where or how the damaged happened but I knew it wasn't my doing. I had two choices: one was to haul it back out of the basement and return it to Home Depot and the other was to install it and hope that the damage was only superficial but I wasn't certain if Home Depot would take back a previously installed hot water heater.

It was a perplexing decision but then I figured that my powers of persuasion could convince someone at Home Depot to believe my story and not fault me for trying to install a damaged hot water heater that later had to be returned.

Things went well, I had to rerun both water lines and redo the pipe for the exhaust but the gas line pretty much matched up and when it was all said and done, the new tank didn't leak. I think I might have said, "Sweet."

But WTF? One fitting that I needed was $16 and I needed two of them. For sixteen bucks I could almost justify someone stealing one. Sixteen buck for a 1/2 inch union is outrageous. I'll have to price them at Lowes.

I need a day off, I think

I'm so close to saying, "Fuck you."

Only I don't actually say, "Fuck you," you just cease to exist to me. I just stop all contact.

I don't pick up your phone calls.

But I ask myself, "Why now? Why not then? What has changed?"

I usually try to take a step away before I make any lasting decisions. I try to see things from a different angles.

Probably part of me wants to hear her say, "Please don't go."

hi

It took me about three weeks to read Skeletons On The Zahara by Dean King, which is pretty quick for me because I usually will only read a chapter or two at a time right before I drift off to sleep.

(That's the kind of updates you've been missing.)

I got a Certificate of Commendation from the United States Marine Corps. It reads, "Outstanding and selfless support in the planning and execution of Marine Week Boston 2010..."

A Lt. Col. came by my place of employment and handed it to me along with a special and specific coin commemorating Marine Week Boston 2010. It was a day that I was busy doing my own work and busy doing the work of someone else as well, so I didn't get to chat much with the Lt. Col. but a co-worker got a similar commendation so he entertained the Marine.

I took it by the other bar that some of the old regulars hang out at because for a couple weeks whenever they would ask what I was up to I would mention Marine Week.

They were impressed.

I was kind of impressed to.

I was just doing my job, the event did come during the busy season which was annoying but we managed. It was done and done and then we moved on and then the Lt. Col. walked into my office a month plus a week later. It was a surprise.

...

Working for free is getting to me.

I feel somewhat disrespected and it's been hard to shake. I think that if you're working for free that you should get treated better.

Unless you're a slave and then it sucks to be you.

...

I had just finished reading Isle of Passion by Laura Restrepo before I picked up Skeletons on the Zahara. I remember looking at all the unread titles I have sitting about, trying to decide on what to start next.

I'm wondering what to read next.

Nothing tickles my fancy.

I'll probably end up buying something new.

I read a little of Betting on the Muse by Charles Bukowski because I'm still trying to get him but I don't. Maybe because I've heard stories like his in person all my life. I like his writing style but I think his subject holds no interest for me.

I think that I'll read Ham on Rye and if that doesn't do it for me than I will move on.

Avoidance

Avoidance. That's probably my most commonly used superpower. Sometimes, it's a good thing, like avoiding a tackle while playing football but sometimes it is not such a good thing as avoiding doing the dishes.

I was going to say avoiding work instead of dishes but the work I avoid is the menial things not the pressing things, I'm best under pressure and if the pressure isn't there, then I will create it.

...

I have a USB seven port hub that I plug my 8GB flashdrive into and twice today the connection to the flashdrive dropped off. I would click on the icon for the drive and I would get a message that the drive was empty which is slightly scary. And by slightly, I mean very.

I back up the drive occasionally, but there would have been two rather involved projects that I would have had to recreate.

It took ten minutes to copy the contents to my 1TB external drive.

...

I'm posting this to avoid work.

...

I'm still working on a very good cup of homemade coffee. It's a project that I've been working on for quite some time. A lot of money and effort has been spent. I grind my own beans in my burr grinder, I use twice filtered water which I measure in a measuring cup, I weigh the coffee, and I'm currently trying my efforts with a French press, adjusting the amount of coffee and the coarseness of the grind up and down.

I mostly drink alone

It's a controlled situation. I usually just talk to the bartenders and waitresses because most of the other people there just bother me. I go there to put things on hold. When you tell someone you're at the bar when they call you on your cell phone to ask you a favor, they usually say that they will call you back later.

I don't go to the bar to talk to the other patrons but when you are known as a regular, sometimes people just can't help themselves.

One guy that can't help himself is Bobby. Bobby is actually there more than I am but when we're there together, he always defers to me. I say, "Bobby, this is your bar too. You're a regular. You rate."

Bobby is a couple years younger than I am but he looks a few years older. He's a doorman, makes decent money and has a good soul but he's sometimes unsure of himself.

When I got there it was crowded but I got to sit in my usual seat and Bobby was sitting in the farthest seat from me, by the Jager machine. I waved to him when I caught his eye. Bobby is the only one that I make an effort to acknowledge because sometime his get a little bruise if he thinks you no longer like him.

There is a table for two behind where Bobby was sitting and two women about Bobby's age where sitting there, he would pass beers to them and make small talk and then he got into a conversation with them.

I was happy for Bobby. He made a move and he was doing well, there were smiles and laughs. Bobby possesses a simple charm.

Then some other regular name Bob walked in. I never liked Bob but I would respond whenever he would speak to me. Bob usually comes in to see Roy, who was sitting at a table behind me but Bob walked right over to Bobby and started chatting up the two women.

I watched.

Bobby wasn't doing to badly but he doesn't have the superficial social skills as Bob. Bob is an energetic bullshitter.

For a moment I thought Bobby just gave up, he sat back down on his stool at the bar and just sipped his beer. I had wanted to tell him not to give up, when he ordered a beer and then stood up as he passed it to the table and he remained standing as he rejoined the conversation.

After awhile, it seemed Bobby was losing steam so I sent a round of beers over for everyone but Bob. Eventually, Bobby did give up and came and sat by me.

"That guy's a piece of shit," I said.

"Who?"

"Bob, or whatever his name is," I said as I pointed with my chin. "You were over there having a conversation with those ladies and he just walks in and cock blocks you."

"You saw that?"

"Yeah, I saw it. He comes here to talk to Roy and Roy was sitting behind me and he didn't even talk to Roy, he just went over and got into your conversation. I hate him. I never liked him but know I hate him."

"Yeah, I'll talk to him later about it. I've never seen you like this."

"I bothers me. This is your bar, he shouldn't be doing that to you."

I went on for awhile, and then had the bartender send over two more beers to that table and to tell them that they were from Bobby.

Bob shouted over, "Hey, Bobby! What about me?" Bobby, nervously laughed and just shrugged his shoulders, I leaned over and said, "Fuck that guy." Then I left.

It's Large and the Women Like It.

It was the whole Mohammad & Mountain thing and I was in charge of the mountain.

Everyone that saw it, remarked on how impressive it was but it's something I see everyday so I'm a bit jaded to it.

My laptop was set-up on her kitchen table and my 24" monitor was to the right of that, much like it sits on my desk at home. I would hear "Nice Set-up," and I would think, "Not Really," but I would say something in agreement or thank them.

It's a three year old laptop running on a non-Intel processor with the cheapest-largest monitor I could get at the time. I'm not impressed.

Four pages of a tabloid is what we were creating. I like having all the pieces and then place them in general locations and go from there. I like doing that because sometimes you have this one element that stands out and should be focused on, or this one thing that everything else needs to work around and if you don't have those special elements from the get go, you have to redesign all of your work.

We didn't have all the elements even though there had been time to get them and I was being asked to get going on it even though that wasn't the original deal but time was running out so I got going.

My status is kind of volunteer; I'm a quest; I'm doing them a favor, so when it comes to who gets accommodated, it's me. I'll work with you, I'll set-up my computer on someone's kitchen table so we all can see what's going on but if I need something, it's going to come in the way I want it. I don't want to have to make something work because someone halfassed it. I want the thing good when it hits my hand.

My status is 'kind of a volunteer' because, I'm working for free but I didn't volunteer, I was volunteered by a friend of a friend which gives me an 'F-You' card in my pocket.

We were working on it in earnest, for three days straight. Seven hours on Sunday, five hours on Monday and then eight on Tuesday - twenty hours total and probably half of that was waiting for things that should have been in hand.

She was holding a smaller version on the four page tabloid in her hand. It was a smaller version because the largest we can print in the office is 11x17. She said,"I like it. It's a good piece." I just stood silent, it was a good piece but it wasn't worth twenty hours of my life, it wasn't worth the parking ticket I got because I had to stay later than what was planned, it wasn't worth the aggravation of having to make all sorts of phone calls to get things that should have been at the ready, it wasn't worth asking to leave early from work and using 'vacation' time to do it.

"Don't you like it?," she continued. It was raining outside. I knew that rain was forecast for the day but I didn't wear a jacket or bring an umbrella because I was supposed to have been at home before the rain came. I thought about waiting in the rain for the bus to get to the subway because for the sake of time, I didn't go home and get my truck but took the bus in from work. I thought about hustling to make a deadline that nobody else gave a shit about. I said, "I'll like it in the future. Right now I'm a bit irritated at this whole process."

She was chilling

She was wearing a form fitting black knit top and designer jeans, and leaning back in her highback chair, her shoulders hitting to top of the back and her ass right at the edge of the seat. Her arms just hung in her lap and her legs were parted. It wasn’t very lady like but I wasn't complaining.

eh

I left work early so that I could help them meet their deadline.

I hurried up.

I waited.

And waited.

The deadline that we wanted to make was at 2:30PM. The last version of the piece was sent at 9:30PM.

Most of that was waiting. Waiting for a photo, waiting for another photo, waiting for a decision, waiting for an opinion, waiting for approval, waiting for the final changes.

By the end of the day I was a little bit irritated. Not making the 2:30PM deadline was not a good first impression to give to the printer and sending the finished product out at 9:30PM meant that I certainly did not need to burn a favor and leave work early.

Non-Angelina Related

This post is unrelated to Angelina's post it's just that her title was familiar.

Wonders, Wanders for a long time I had thought the phrase was "wonderlust." You know, a lust for wonder, so you have to travel to see it because your everyday local things are just that, everyday, and where's the wonder in that.

Then I found out it was wanderlust and that was good too.

I'm surprised that I hadn't seen that phrase in print before I found out that I had it wrong.

like olden days

My rockstar status is still in effect.

It not mega rockstar; it more of a times-have-changed rockstar.

It shows up most when the timing is just right.

Everyone who walked through the door knew me, except for this one lady. She ordered the chicken fingers.

I was having the teriyaki steak tips over Caesar salad.

The bar talked about the homeless across the street and that it looked like there was a new guy and how it was odd that the Pine Street Inn would send a van around to pick them up at that time of day. We talked to the Bud distributor as he came in with banners. We talked about the high-wire act that had just taken place.

I finished my salad as she was having her left over chicken fingers packed up to go.

“I think those are one of the best things on the menu. You choose wisely.”

“Yeah, they were very good.”

“And it looks like they went back to their regular honey mustard sauce. Last week they had a different one.’

“This one was delicious.”

“I used to get the chicken finger or the boneless buffalo fingers all the time until one of the bartenders started making fun of me.”

“Hey! What? Who me? I wasn’t making fun of you; I would just ask every time that you can in whether it would be the chicken fingers or the boneless buffs.”

“So, then I started mixing it up, and I would have to remember the last time I ordered them and then figure out if it was too soon to order them or not.”

“And now you have a complex about it,” the unknown customer said.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“I could eat chicken fingers everyday,” she added.

“Timmy, you can order them whenever you want; there is never a wrong time.”

She sat quiet for a little bit after that, I answered a question here and there from the others in the place and then she left.

I watched her go.

Boil water advisory

Boil water advisory.

Saturday, I called on my way to the supermarket to see if there was anything that was needed in the house. I was told bread, which I knew about and then I was also told that a water main broke so that I should get some bottled water too. I was told that we could boil our water drinking but sometimes that’s a hassle.

It was about 7:30PM and by the time I got to the supermarket. All the water was gone. All the water was gone from three supermarkets and a BJ’s, so I drove home.

For the last half of forever, I’ve been filtering my drinking water; it’s not because I’m scared of contaminants, it’s that I’m not a fan of off flavors.

Drinking unfiltered boiled water was rather flavorful and not in a pleasant way. So, I have a five gallon cooler jug of boiled water that I filter through a Brita Filter for drinking. It’s not bad, there is still a slight taste to it but it’s nothing to complain about.

The worst part of having to boil your drinking water is the amount of time it takes for all that water to cool back down, so in the morning I make certain to fill the five gallon jug to the top from water I boiled the night before and refilled the pots and boiled some more so that it will be cooled down by the time I get out of work.

You have to plan ahead, a step or two.

Reading the news and talking to people out and about makes me worried for society. It’s seems people refuse to take the time to listen and just don’t take a moment to try to understand.

In Kmart, where I was buying ice cube trays, the cashier was asking me about the problems with the water supply. I told her what I gathered from the news and the internet. She was worried about the water that was being bottled at the moment. I told her not to worry about that water, the problem was only regional and most of the bottled water comes from a different region.

She asked about water for pets. I said that water for the pets should be boiled. She asked about water for the garden. I said that you didn’t need to boil the water for garden plants unless you were going to eat them. She said. “That seems rude.” I thought she was from India and I wondered if that had an affect on her views.

Coffee on Monday morning was hard to find. I had thought of making it at home but I figured that someone downtown would have figured something out. Someone did figure something out but I only found them after my third stop.

I then read the paper online and it turns out that some coffee shop owners were under the impression that the normal process of making coffee was enough to make the water safe to drink.

I wonder if boiling water for just a minute which is what is being recommend is enough and then you have these chuckle heads who think just getting the water hot is good enough. These people are in the food preparation industry and you think that there would be some sort of knowledge that they should have.