The morning came all too early. Travel on little sleep is never pleasant... especially when you have to head straight to the office from the airport upon destination arrival. I was early at the gate for a late departure due to weight concerns. The plane was packed in the guaranteed stale air and insufficient ventilation sort of way. I traded seats with a young man so that he could sit with his girlfriend. I thought it might be nice if they were together if the plane went down in flames. Heh. After some of the excess fuel was pumped from the wings to lighten our gross, we were off. My new lotto seat was next to a nice older man on his way home from Houston. His granddaughter's leukemia had returned from recession and she was being screened under close observation at MD Anderson Medical Center for an experimental bone marrow transplant operation. I wanted to cry as I listened to his story of hers and didn't know what to say to him. I thought it best I spoke only with my eyes and to keep my mouth shut for fear that only the wrong words would escape. I figure I'm somewhere around flight level 350 and speeding toward icy cold weather and a week to reflect on where I'm at and where I'm going. In my casual conversation with the strangers sharing my flight, I have discovered that "The Springs" is extremely dry right now. All the mountain reservoirs are depleted of moisture and the area has had less than 2 inches of rain this year... a truly foreign fact to fall on ears that patiently listen to 4 or 5 inches of rain in a night on a regular basis. I am assuming that lack of moisture translates to lack of snow. If so, I'll try to contain my disappointment. I love walking under a light snow... the way it play tricks with the light and the way the world seemingly becomes brighter. This morning in my haste, I packed clothes for work without much thought of free time. I hope that amongst all the long days (and nights) in the office, I will manage to discover something meaningful in the time between work and sleep. Something odd just happened to me. The stewardess just came and offered me more of the coveted airplane snack bags. More. Other than when I've traveled in first class, I have never been offered more of anything. It's funny how I find satisfaction in the smallest things. The token "from the flight deck" promises 55 minutes left in flight and I can't stop thinking my destination is about anything but geography. (11:45CST)
Cleaning. Running around thinking I'm forgetting something. Laundry. Running around thinking I'm forgetting something. Packing. Running around thinking I'm forgetting something. I need sleep.
Trinkets from my past
are all I have left
to fill those open spaces
of memory erased by the
coca fields and moonshine stills
of decadence and regret.
A ring from the angels' princess
or a necklace from my
church confessional whore
may be the only anchors
that bind me to this reality
that is tugged and pulled away
by MDMA and smug mushrooms
grown in the shit of society
to become that same shit
represented by
trinkets from my past.
What would become of me
if I lost my trinkets and
could no longer see into those
open spaces of memory
that define the man that
I'm not now, but used to be?
Home at last. I took a few of the guys that stayed late to help out for dinner. I say I took... really, I expensed. Expense accounts are a fabulous thing... especially since I'm going to be living off mine for the next week. Audra shared her pictures from her Halloween party. Look at the only dork there not in costume:
I suppose it's okay since I only stayed there about 20 minutes. I just wanted to make the effort to go by and tell everyone happy October 31... especially after all the effort that was put into decorating and planning. I have to pack still... and clean up a little around the house. I hate leaving when there is even the slightest clutter. I had arranged for the limo to pick me up tomorrow morning, but Greg offered to take me to the airport today at lunch, so that isn't necessary. I'd rather a friend take me. I'm procrastinating dammit. Why does this have to be a hassle?
Look at the fucking monkey still in the office at 8:45. Fuck this.
"wisdom falls often falls into the hands of the lost. sometimes when all you want is a cigarette, life's meaning is what you get."
Irma's downtown for lunch with Greg did not put me in any mood to continue the day. I'm working late tonight and not happy about it... especially since I leave in the morning for Colorado. I have so much to do today and I can't seem to stay focused. I know I'm going through the motions, but I don't feel anything. I am completely and utterly empty inside.
Talk about luck. The first day in a long time that I'm running a little behind schedule and the proverbial shit hits the fan at work. My boss, who never calls me on my cell phone, called me. I was in another room and didn't hear my cell. So, the same boss, who never calls me and never ever pages me, paged me a few times. Fuck. I call in and there is some big issue that is on fire and everyone involved has their panties all bunched up. At this point, I'm already on my way in to the office. Have you ever tried to conduct business on a moving bus with 20 people (who have no idea what you're talking about) staring at you and listening to your phone conversation(s)? It's quite difficult. Of course, by the time I actually reached the office, I had poured a little water on all the fires and everyone was happy. I'm ready to call it a day.
Aye caramba! Guess what happens when you don't drink for 7 days and then you drink it all... yep. Ouch. So, I'm hangin' a little bit this morning. It really an odd experience because it happens so infrequently. It's still raining quite a bit here. Ugh! I guess I'll stop being a lazy piece of shit and get ready for work now that I've hit snooze for an hour and a half and am running late. Pfft!
Drunk. I took a stand tonight. I emailed (like a pussy) the treats-clayton-like-shit girl and told her that I couldn't take it anymore. I guess that's goodbye. The Laff Stop was great. I was the target heckler even though I didn't heckle. Some jokes were pointed at me, but I didn't care. It was all fun. I'm going to bed... confused, happy, satisfied, and disappointed. Go figure.
I woke at 8:00 this morning for what would be quite an experience. I hate American football. I am not a ports fan and don't watch any sports on television. I will attend live games of various sports for the social value, but I know little of the rules and tradition. It's just not my thing. This morning I attended a redneck tailgate party at Reliant Stadium and subsequent
Houston Texans football game against the
Cincinnati Bengals. The Texans lost 38-3... a tragic ass whoopin' but I didn't care. I was too busy taking in the subculture nourished and developed by the beer guzzling stereotypical sports fan everywhere. I laughed a lot. All said and done, it was an experience I don't regret, but I still don't understand the appeal of the game on the level the profanity screaming motherfuckers surrounding me so. Maybe someday. I'm completely and totally drunk. I started off the day thinking that I would continue to not drink regardless of the heckling coming from my slush friends, but much to my surprise, they offered no pressure. I started drinking because of the game. I just can't take that much testosterone laden screaming filling my ears without a little buzz. The only thing I really got from the game itself was that football players are grossly overpaid and professional cheerleaders are grossly underpaid. Maybe that was the drink talking. Although I am not a fan and usually give about two squirts of piss about the plays in the game, I will reluctantly admit to being excited when a guy on one of the teams (I think it was the bad guys) made a 100 yard return for a touchdown. That is the entire field... or so I'm told. It was quite impressive. Anyhoo, I'm going to a
comedy show tonight if I can take a shower and change without falling and busting my ass because I am (as previously mentioned) fucked up. Thank you. Thankyouverymuch.
Helpful hints to the uninformed...
Quickest way to piss me off: tell me you are going to do something and then don't do it
Quickest way out of my life: lie to me
A couple of years ago, under former employ, I used to play a lot of
Quake 3 (
RA3,
CTF,
TA) with my co-workers. I love that game. I don't play games anymore really... I don't have the time to keep up with the latest buzz in the gaming community. Tonight, I received an IM from a guy I used to work with that I had not heard from since the last time I hosted a LAN party at my house (a long time ago)... then a little present came to me via ftp. It is a playable demo of the forthcoming
Doom 3. The notorious and rumored "leaked alpha" build. Well, when I'm not living in laptop land (my daily six-gun I carry to the streets at high noon for the showdown), I actually have a computer (or several) at home... nothing special by today's standards. This code is a beast. I have been having some trouble with my system recently... hardware trouble. I can't load the game before my PC shits the bed. I really want to see what this thing looks like in motion, but my computer is a steaming pile of poo. How fucked up is it that the single and only reason I am going to buy a new computer is have the ability to run this game? Heh. If you're a gamer, it's par for the course. If not, go learn what frags are and reevaluate your position.
I just saw this brief on the local news about a couple that was arrested for putting cocaine in their infants bottle. Apparently the baby had undergone heart surgery and tested positive during a subsequent health check. What the fuck is wrong with these people? I mean, if ever before I thought that humans should be required to meet some prerequisite licensing to breed, it is further validated by this type of tragedy.
