Yesterday, I woke up with a horrible headache. The kind of headache that leaves the pit of your stomach gurgling, as if you’re going to throw up, even if you hadn’t eaten since two the afternoon before. I wish I could say it was from fun, but it wasn’t. It was from driving about 240 miles the day before, then closing, then getting up the next morning to be to work by seven. Aspirin and Tylenol had no effect. Nothing could counter the power of the aching head, except for sleep, which was had in a moderate amount, since it seems impossible for me to actually “sleep in,” whatever that is.
I spent my Thanksgiving time with my family. Drove to my parent’s house (120ish miles) on Wednesday; they drove me and one brother to my great-uncle’s house for dinner and familial harassment. Much food was consumed, by me. I got a headache from the junk turkeys get injected with, but the turkey was scrumptious. I ate two kinds of cheese cakes, which were disappointing but tasty at the same time. Friday, I drove back to Cowcity (120ish miles) ‘cause I had to open the freakin’ store on Saturday. Saturday was my grandma’s 80th birthday, but I just went to work, came back to my apartment, ate something, and slept. Sunday, I drove to my grandparent’s house (120ish miles) to see them, and my parents again, for a sort of birthday treat for my grandma. We hugged hello, talked, laughed, talked, ate chicken, talked, ate ice cream, talked, and hugged good-bye. I drove back to Cowcity (120ish miles) straight to work ‘cause I had the privilege of closing the store Sunday night. Loverly.
Even if I stood naked, I couldn’t count the times I was asked what I want to do on my visible appendages. I pride myself on being honest, I try to always tell the truth, but I rarely tell everything. (I think I’ve written of this before, someone will have to check to be sure, though.) I had two stock answers: 1. The joke: “I want to win the Lotto and never have to worry about money again.” and 2. The avoid: “I don’t know what I want to do.” with an eye roll, if the person wasn’t watching. Here’s the problem: both are true and false. The first, I know will never happen. I don’t gamble, unless it’s with friends, and never win anything, so I never play the Lotto. (When I turned 18 and got some lottery tickets, I was disappointed because I didn’t want them. I let my brother scratch ‘em off and didn’t win.) The second is partially true because I have an idea for something that I’d like to do, but if I told anyone (and I mean anyone out there) I’d just worry them, which is why I won’t be specific in telling them and which is why I wouldn’t do it until I’m sure it wouldn’t worry them. When would that be? Never, so it’ll never be done.
So, any family and friends curious, as long as you keep asking me what I want to do, or simply asking what I want, I’ll continue to tow the Me Party line. “I want to win the Lotto.” and “I don’t know.” I understand that even with this warning, the next time I see you, I’ll be asked, but now you can’t say I haven’t warned you, unless, of course, you don’t actually read this, then you don’t know. Oh, well.
When I was little, probably seven or eight, I decided that, unless I was sick, I wasn’t allowed to complain about the weather being cold until there was frost on the ground. Why did I do this to myself? I don’t know, but it’s one of the few rules I’ve lived by for a long, long time. Anyway, this morning, I found my car coated in the frozen water we call frost. I could finally complain about the cold, if I felt the need. Great. I turned on the car, pulled out a bottle of water, always in the back, and washed the frost off the windows. I settled into the seat, shifted into drive, and started off. I watched the window fog up, and turned on the heater. Nothing. I twisted the knob from 1 to 4, maybe the fan was too low. Nothing. I pulled my sleeve over my hand and wiped the fog off. Stop light. I hit the dash board, pushed the button for the AC. Nothing. No heat in my car for the drive to work. Fingers going numb by the time I got there.
I think, on the way back to the apartment, the heater worked. I think. I didn’t have to use it, the car had been sitting in the sun the whole day. I suppose I’ll have to find out early Wednesday when I go to work early, early, early again.
So, like September before it, November has come to its end in only thirty days. Now it is no more. And I won’t be shedding a tear.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Monday, November 22, 2004
This week's comics.
Well, this week's comics have gotten out of hand. It's grown and taken a life of it's own. I may not finish it until after turkey day (if I don't finish it tomorrow and can't work on it at my parent's house).
Wish me luck.
Wish me luck.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Friday, November 05, 2004
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Burrito?
I'm an idealist who wraps himself in a tortilla of cynicism. I'm a burrito that's sour on the outside, but sweet on the inside.
I believe that people want to help people more than themselves. I believe that people are more full of love and compassion than they are of fear and jealousy. I believe that, whether you believe in a form or creationism or evolution, humankind all comes from the same place and is therefore the same with only superficial differences. These are some of the things that a deep inside me, things that I'm pretty sure I Know. (Yeah, I used the big "K" there, and I think I meant it.)
The problem is that every time I see a person spit on the homeless or say how much he or she hates another person because of a new cell phone or throw trash out of a car I'm afraid that I'm getting a real view of the world. A world where it's everyone for his or herself. A world where killing for dirt is acceptable. A world where fear is the main motivator.
Sure, the idea of fear being the main motivator for everything is funny when it comes from Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner, but in the real world, it's horrible. If it's all fear, then there really isn't love, love is what we claim we have because we're afraid of being alone or afraid that we can't protect our young. Maybe love is just a joke we play on ourselves to keep the species going. If it's all fear, then what's the reason to go on?
Fear is one of the main reasons that I didn't like either of the two main candidates for President. Both used it. Both wanted us afraid of how it is out there. Both wanted us too afraid to vote for the other person. Both claimed to be carrying a message of hope, but, despite what other's will say, the only hope that they're offering is to back off on the fear, a little, but not enough to make us feel really safe. All either had to say was "Remember September eleventh" and we all slid back into the fear we experienced that day, and both invoked that fear too much.
I went into this election expecting my guy to lose (read this post). I'm not proud of this type of negativity, but I was just being honest. And to continue with that honesty, even if my guy had won, I don't think much would change after he and his crew of white folk moved in. (Hell, I don't think it would change if any of the guys had been elected, and that includes a guy like Michael Badnarik, he had so many stars in his eyes he has no idea how it all works.) Middle class taxes wouldn't have been cut, seeing the other party is in control of the branch that really makes money decisions. Jobs still would have flowed over seas. Other nations wouldn't respect us, only fear and pity us. There would still be problems with Iraq, even if the elections in that nation happened on time. North Korea would still be brandishing it's nukes to show that it shouldn't be ignored. Iran would still be enriching Uranium and Plutonium to build weapons (I don't care what they say, any nation with any kind of nuclear program is attempting to make weapons right along with the development for energy). Israel would still be imposing its own special form of apartheid. Palestine would still be firing rockets and sending in the bombers. The genocide would continue in Africa. And here in the U.S., we'll be afraid of a threat that we can't see, but know is there because that's what we're told.
Even, maybe especially, if my guy had been elected this so called "War on Terror" would continue. There's finally the perfect threat, one that remains undefined but can be proved to exist based on what happens elsewhere. Unlike the Soviet Union, this threat won't go away. We can't out spend it and force it into bankruptcy. Napalm can be made with gasoline and concentrated orange juice, two fairly cheap things we're not likely to run out of here or in any "first world" country, right? The local grocery store is a breeding ground for terrorism. The hardware store sells black powder. Manure can be turned into a bomb. Every day I hear about the insurgents in Iraq using homemade weapons against civilians and troops. (And I rather save a civilian's life first because the troops are supposed to be there to help and protect the weak and innocent, right?) Couldn't that happen right here? Wasn't that supposed to have happened when the Federal Building in Oklahoma City was bombed (by only one guy, right)? Couldn't it happen again? Not just again, but here in the U.S.? Are we ever going to be safe again?
This is the kind of fear that's being used to control us. Vague threats: "The Terror Level is being raised from yellow to orange." "We have reason to believe that there is a plot out there." "The holidays are the perfect time for an attack to happen." "It is imperative that we protect ourselves from them." But these sentences instill fear every time they're heard. Why?
The day after those planes crashed into those towers, my aunt was afraid to let her children go to school. She lives in a county three thousand miles from New York, New York. This county has about 60,000 people in it, less people that the city I'm not living in. The sign that announces entry into the town she lives in says it has 190 (I think)people. She shouldn't have been afraid, but she was. She was afraid because all over it could be heard that no one was safe, that we're all at risk, that any of us could be next. Now, that's the way to instill fear into a population. And that sort of fear is still being used.
I know fear. I fight it each time talk to a person I've just met. I fight it when I drive my car. I fight it all the time. The thing is, I do my best not to let it rule me. I didn't want to get out of bed today, but I did. I didn't want to go to work, but I did. I didn't want to go to school, but I did. I didn't think it was a good idea to write this, but I did.
I fear that the universe is a dark, uncaring place where it doesn't really matter what you do, but I hope that the meaning we bring to it can really make it better.
I don't know if that's true and I can't promise that I'm doing my part to make it true, but I hope I am.
And with all that out of my system, I'm going to announce a small hiatus on this blog thing. I'm still going to post the comics twice a week and interesting links and, hopefully, the occasional story (Ada's getting sick of dancing with Derrick), but I'm not going to do this personal stuff. I'm just not feeling it at the moment.
I'm not really feeling much of anything at the moment.
Good night.
I believe that people want to help people more than themselves. I believe that people are more full of love and compassion than they are of fear and jealousy. I believe that, whether you believe in a form or creationism or evolution, humankind all comes from the same place and is therefore the same with only superficial differences. These are some of the things that a deep inside me, things that I'm pretty sure I Know. (Yeah, I used the big "K" there, and I think I meant it.)
The problem is that every time I see a person spit on the homeless or say how much he or she hates another person because of a new cell phone or throw trash out of a car I'm afraid that I'm getting a real view of the world. A world where it's everyone for his or herself. A world where killing for dirt is acceptable. A world where fear is the main motivator.
Sure, the idea of fear being the main motivator for everything is funny when it comes from Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner, but in the real world, it's horrible. If it's all fear, then there really isn't love, love is what we claim we have because we're afraid of being alone or afraid that we can't protect our young. Maybe love is just a joke we play on ourselves to keep the species going. If it's all fear, then what's the reason to go on?
Fear is one of the main reasons that I didn't like either of the two main candidates for President. Both used it. Both wanted us afraid of how it is out there. Both wanted us too afraid to vote for the other person. Both claimed to be carrying a message of hope, but, despite what other's will say, the only hope that they're offering is to back off on the fear, a little, but not enough to make us feel really safe. All either had to say was "Remember September eleventh" and we all slid back into the fear we experienced that day, and both invoked that fear too much.
I went into this election expecting my guy to lose (read this post). I'm not proud of this type of negativity, but I was just being honest. And to continue with that honesty, even if my guy had won, I don't think much would change after he and his crew of white folk moved in. (Hell, I don't think it would change if any of the guys had been elected, and that includes a guy like Michael Badnarik, he had so many stars in his eyes he has no idea how it all works.) Middle class taxes wouldn't have been cut, seeing the other party is in control of the branch that really makes money decisions. Jobs still would have flowed over seas. Other nations wouldn't respect us, only fear and pity us. There would still be problems with Iraq, even if the elections in that nation happened on time. North Korea would still be brandishing it's nukes to show that it shouldn't be ignored. Iran would still be enriching Uranium and Plutonium to build weapons (I don't care what they say, any nation with any kind of nuclear program is attempting to make weapons right along with the development for energy). Israel would still be imposing its own special form of apartheid. Palestine would still be firing rockets and sending in the bombers. The genocide would continue in Africa. And here in the U.S., we'll be afraid of a threat that we can't see, but know is there because that's what we're told.
Even, maybe especially, if my guy had been elected this so called "War on Terror" would continue. There's finally the perfect threat, one that remains undefined but can be proved to exist based on what happens elsewhere. Unlike the Soviet Union, this threat won't go away. We can't out spend it and force it into bankruptcy. Napalm can be made with gasoline and concentrated orange juice, two fairly cheap things we're not likely to run out of here or in any "first world" country, right? The local grocery store is a breeding ground for terrorism. The hardware store sells black powder. Manure can be turned into a bomb. Every day I hear about the insurgents in Iraq using homemade weapons against civilians and troops. (And I rather save a civilian's life first because the troops are supposed to be there to help and protect the weak and innocent, right?) Couldn't that happen right here? Wasn't that supposed to have happened when the Federal Building in Oklahoma City was bombed (by only one guy, right)? Couldn't it happen again? Not just again, but here in the U.S.? Are we ever going to be safe again?
This is the kind of fear that's being used to control us. Vague threats: "The Terror Level is being raised from yellow to orange." "We have reason to believe that there is a plot out there." "The holidays are the perfect time for an attack to happen." "It is imperative that we protect ourselves from them." But these sentences instill fear every time they're heard. Why?
The day after those planes crashed into those towers, my aunt was afraid to let her children go to school. She lives in a county three thousand miles from New York, New York. This county has about 60,000 people in it, less people that the city I'm not living in. The sign that announces entry into the town she lives in says it has 190 (I think)people. She shouldn't have been afraid, but she was. She was afraid because all over it could be heard that no one was safe, that we're all at risk, that any of us could be next. Now, that's the way to instill fear into a population. And that sort of fear is still being used.
I know fear. I fight it each time talk to a person I've just met. I fight it when I drive my car. I fight it all the time. The thing is, I do my best not to let it rule me. I didn't want to get out of bed today, but I did. I didn't want to go to work, but I did. I didn't want to go to school, but I did. I didn't think it was a good idea to write this, but I did.
I fear that the universe is a dark, uncaring place where it doesn't really matter what you do, but I hope that the meaning we bring to it can really make it better.
I don't know if that's true and I can't promise that I'm doing my part to make it true, but I hope I am.
And with all that out of my system, I'm going to announce a small hiatus on this blog thing. I'm still going to post the comics twice a week and interesting links and, hopefully, the occasional story (Ada's getting sick of dancing with Derrick), but I'm not going to do this personal stuff. I'm just not feeling it at the moment.
I'm not really feeling much of anything at the moment.
Good night.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Pool of Drool
If I was a drinker, I'd be passed out on the floor of the living room in a pool of my own drool right now. Since I'm not, I'm going to try to fall asleep my normal way, worried about the world coming to an end. Hopefully, I'll get some good news in the morning.
VOTE!
Out of the few of you who read this and live in the US and are 18 or older, go and VOTE! I don't care who you vote for. I just want you to do it. Go. Touch those screens or fill in those little bubbles, completely with that #2 pencil. Sure, it's fucking stupid to have Election Day on a Tuesday, instead of Saturday or Sunday, but that's one of the purposeful problems the white guys who founded this nation created. Prove to whitey that people can over come the stupidity.
VOTE!
VOTE!
Monday, November 01, 2004
Paradox and Maybe
I'm working six days this week because, apparently, I'm a "sweet-heart." Personally, I think it's because I'm a sucker and I have trouble saying "No" to people, especially people of the female gender.
More money is always good, but more hours are not. A horrible paradox.
I don't know whether to classify this as a good or bad thing. I didn't have to do this, I could have told her where to put certain coffee making equipment, but instead I said I'd take the hours. Now I won't be watching the TV that I want to watch because I should get some sleep so I can function early in the morning and then at class after. I didn't though. I said I'd do it. Damn women and their ability to exploit my weak will and make my insides go squishy, even over the phone, damn them.
Speaking of women, Maybe Katie hasn't been in the store since last Wednesday or Tuesday, I can't remember. I remember her drink, finally, and was hoping to be granted the gift of a smile from her, but that has not been. The day I remembered her name, the smile was huge, the eyes flashed, and she spoke to me. My insides melted and I was giddy for the next hour. I sang her song for the rest of the day. On the days she came in to the store and I was steamin' milk, I stole glances at her from behind the bar. I wonder if she noticed? I doubt it. I wonder if she'll be there tomorrow? My insides could use a good melting.
More money is always good, but more hours are not. A horrible paradox.
I don't know whether to classify this as a good or bad thing. I didn't have to do this, I could have told her where to put certain coffee making equipment, but instead I said I'd take the hours. Now I won't be watching the TV that I want to watch because I should get some sleep so I can function early in the morning and then at class after. I didn't though. I said I'd do it. Damn women and their ability to exploit my weak will and make my insides go squishy, even over the phone, damn them.
Speaking of women, Maybe Katie hasn't been in the store since last Wednesday or Tuesday, I can't remember. I remember her drink, finally, and was hoping to be granted the gift of a smile from her, but that has not been. The day I remembered her name, the smile was huge, the eyes flashed, and she spoke to me. My insides melted and I was giddy for the next hour. I sang her song for the rest of the day. On the days she came in to the store and I was steamin' milk, I stole glances at her from behind the bar. I wonder if she noticed? I doubt it. I wonder if she'll be there tomorrow? My insides could use a good melting.
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