I bought my first suit. It took effort. Cryptic rituals just before dawn were required to remove the eldritch wards that stood guard over the monolithic barriers in my mind that prevented such an unspeakable act. But the act has been beformed, and though not spoken, printed. It all happened so suddenly. First, a coupon from express, offering significant savings. Then, a sale at Express.com on men’s suits. THEN, worst or best of all, while compiling my tax information I discovered the Men’s Warehouse reciept from Ben’s wedding, detailing my exact suit measurements. Then final protests were silent when a slim, pinstripe black number was located with matching vest and pants for $300. Sold. I now own a suit. But it hasn’t arrived yet….
And so I will relate another tale:
The plumber came today to fix our sinks which refused to drain. This led to the following moment which will forever hold a special place in my heart. Despite the hammer, the wrench, and butane torch, the junction cap on the pipes would not come free. Mr. Plummer immediately decided to get medieval and use a saw. At first the pipe just whined… but as it’s armor began to yield it began to drip thick a thick black ichor that thoroughly contrasted with its own pure white exterior. As the pipe began to shriek, so to did the drips of acrid substance begrudingly become sprays of noxious fluid. The poor pipe drained out its very essence right there before me onto the drive way…. And without so much as a moment of reverance for the viciously abused pipe, the plummer did then immediately rend the pipes insides with an implement so dark and hideous that Jack the Ripper himself would have cringed before the eons of corrupt sludge that came oozing out of that dark ravaged orifice. When the terror finally ended and the pipe did sit still, our sink burbled with a renewed sense of purpose. We could wash our dishes once again! But alas, hear I sit, late at night, in bed, still aghast at the horrors I saw commited beneath our kitchen sink. My mind fills with terror at the mere suggestion of blockages in the sink, and the revenges the pipe will surely perform on me and my house for the suffering it has endured on my behalf….
As Jenny and I were navigating the inner workings of a parking garage earlier today, I got to thinking. If my name was Lucifer, and I was in the business of collecting souls, here’s what I’d do. I’d buy up all the parking places in well placed busy downtown areas of big cities, and offer them up to the needy in exchange for a signature on the dotted line. I’m sure there are days when people get so desperate for parking that they would easily turn over their eternal salvation. Cha ching! Bargain!
Valentine’s Day approaches, and thanks to some early premeditation, I made reservations for Jenny and I at Le Petit Laurent, a fancy french restuarant. How exciting! We also went to the best cupcake in the world (I’d link it if I wasn’t feeling so lazy) and picked up an 18 pack of mini cupcakes in a heartshaped container. 2 of them are shaped like little bunnies!!! Tommorow, in a bid to clean up a little for Valentine’s day, I am going to get a bit of a haircut. I wonder what it is going to feel like to lose a bit of the weight.
The other day, February 1st, was my little sister Melanie’s 15th birthday. Jenny was nice enough to let herself be easily convinced on the subject, and we drove up to take part in the celebration. It’s always fun spending time with Jenny and my family simultaneously. Poor Jenny is not used to the large family dynamic. When you are one child with multiple parents, its easy to be heard. When you are one of five children you learn how to make yourself heard. Some would say my skills at being heard are without equal. Especially our upstairs neighbors, when I’m running round the house singing a naughty version of “Defying Gravity” from Wicked. Poor Jenny has trouble making herself heard at the kitchen table. Her family is so well mannered and respectful, they make our bunch look like a pack of hooligans. But the comparison is nice. It can be nice to be proper and groomed from time to time, but being loud, obnoxious and rude isn’t so bad either!
Jenny is good for me. Very good. She helps me be more generous, more grateful, more attentive, more caring, and better brother/friend. Take Melanie’s birthday present. Jenny made sure we had a really nice gift in hand to present to her, and the smile on Mellie’s face reflected that effort. I love my siblings alot, but its nice to have Jenny’s help being nicer to them! They deserve it! Valentine’s day is coming up, and I’m hoping to make it a special day. I made absolutely sure to make early reservations for a nice french restaurant, and now I’m ruminating over her nifty gifty. What should I get her?
When Jenny left for Utah, I aptly described the separation as rain clouds entering my heart, much like they were entering San Francisco. The longer I’ve employed this metaphor, the more strangely relevant it seems. While she was in Utah, it rained continuously it what had to have been the longest number of consecutive rainy days San Francisco has seen in a long time. On her return, the rain ceased. Then, immdiately after her departure to Minnesota, just as I began to feel lonely, the rain made its quiet maddening return as well. The metaphor works on an even more minute scale that days as well. Earlier today we were chatting on Skype. I decided to go out for some dinner. The moment I leave the house, a freak downpour ensues, completely drenching me. I was shocked and appalled at the timing. Jenny says the forces of nature are trying to tell me something, and I must say I agree. Technically speaking, I’m a trained scientist, and I see no other logical explanation. As I see it, when Jenny returns, it will be drought weather until her next business trip.
On a side note, I managed to make dinner reservations for Valentine’s day a full three weeks early. Fantastical. Now if only I could subdue my radical urge to argue over the validity of every thought, I might become some kind of decent boyfriend. Conceptually shocking!
I played a Classic Daily in MTGO for the first time in a while. Went with Belcher, as it is still the only deck I have built. 1st Round against Ad-Nauseum Tendrils, he fizzles on his Tendrils game one and I blow my belcher up in his face. Game 2, he lays a land and I blow my belcher up in his face. The next two rounds crucified me. Round 2 he Oaths for Platinum Angel, I Burning Wish, he counters, no Shattering Spree, I lose. Game 2 I put down a Gargadon, but he stifles it and I go down in flames. Round 3 I face turn 1 chalice for 0 both rounds. No-Land Belcher = Dead Belcher. Ahhh well, I’ll try again some other time.
Link to the decklists, thought I’m in the bottom so my decklist doesn’t show.
It is strange how a place can change when one of its primary denizens has nipped off to some distant place. In my case, her shadow seems to linger on the walls looming over me in silence. It doesn’t matter how fun I suspect my boy time will be, the lack of laughter and life in the apartment seems to drain all desire from my soul! I am certainly reminded of my reasons for moving here. Hopefully she remembers her reasons for asking me to stay forever, and returns to me soon.
To while away the hours, I do have work to focus on. Seeing myself referred to in emails as a “Senior Developer” on multiple projects gives me the willies. However, it is nice to feel like some manner of adult. Especially when a year ago I was beating myself over the head for motivation to apply for graduate education. I’ve come full circle back to the programming career I thought I wanted, and I want it again! Amazingly, in a year’s time I’ve achieved a financial stability unknown to me for 25 years. I now have a structure I can build on for the future, a prospect I’m finding very exciting. As long as I knock my next few projects into oblivion I’ll be doing great.
I respect the frigid blustery rain that has been pelting our small city in such a sinister and purposeful manner. I told my fair lady I wish it not to leave until she returns, as its parting would then coincide with the parting of all the clouds in my heart. Delicious. However, during such inclement weather we must remember to beware all the evil creatures that go seeking empty homes to hide in! We wouldn’t want to have our soul consumed for lack of better preparedness!
At the behest of my lovely girlfriend, my writing has begun again. My wordpress blog self destructed somehow during the 8 month period where I ignored it. I will probably spend a good deal of my time rebuilding it. Sadly, I’ve returned to discover that the Gallery-Wordpress integration isn’t exactly possible these days. Promises of a bright future exist, but who knows how long that could actually take. I think I’ll spend most of my efforts on content and framework for now, and integrate gallery3 when it’s good and ready to be integrated.
When confronted by Jenny with the option of Blogger or Wordpress, I found myself faltering. How easy would it be to build a blogspot bloggity blogger and never have it die. Ever. I’d never need to try and make it do the things I constantly try to make wordpress do. But I’m afraid I would miss something. I love crafting my website into the acceptable thought portal I see in my imagination. It feels me with pride to tackle such concepts as Archive pages and fast loading gallery’s with my own discerning eye for well written code. I think we found a compromise. I started a blogger bloggity blogspot, but I post to it via a crossposter linked into my Wordpress blog. Success for technolgy. Hopefully we are both getting the things we need this way.