Wednesday, October 31
Summer has passed
So long to the muggy summer nights of "Someone Saved My Life Tonight." Best summer in a while.
Sunday, October 28
Blogger Play
Not to be an advertising bitch, but Blogger Play is one of my favorite things to have running in the background of my computer. Just watch, relax and see the world through someone else's posted pictures. Set it to half speed, and find a comfy chair.
Calm.
Calm.
Tuesday, October 23
Monday, October 15
Saturday, October 13
An anagram of Fleetwood Mac is wet camel food
Sorry, Stevie. Thunder doesn't just occur when it's raining. You'd think with how influential your stupid super group is you could sit and do some research. Your metaphor sucks!
Saturday, October 6
The present is a gift
Don't be so sure that the future is going to be awesome. It's going to be really shitty when, in place of cannons, they use laser sounds for performances of the 1812 Overture and For Those About to Rock. Yes friends, treasure the present and hug a cannon.
The fish and chips were delicious. You must give me your recipe.
Reverse chronological. Easier. Able.
I've been working at the Wellspring Bakehouse in Morrisville for a week and a half now. It's Sunday, and it's a day of rest for the team and I. Days of rest we value more than paychecks, almost. When I get home every day my elbows feel like they're being torn off. I can barely manage to bend over from the pain in my lower back. A shower and bed feel better than they ever have. It's hard work, and my hands and wrists show it. I look like a depressed teenager with all the cardboard cuts running up and down my arms and fingers. There's one little nasty one on my pinky finger that feels more like a puncture wound than a cut. What do I get for all those cuts? I can probably put together a cardboard box, line it, and tape it up faster than any of you. I can fill it with 160 fucking heavy rounds of cookie dough, 15 rolls of pizza dough, 8 rustic bread loafs, 36 rolls of varying types, 25 mini baguettes, 3 pastry flats, 1 5 pound challa loaf, or 8 sandwich loafs. I hate the mini baguettes and jumbles, but I'll still buy them once they reach the store because they taste wonderful. At any given time I can tell you what 11 oz. feels like, and how many mini cookies it takes to make 11 oz. I can tell you the difference between farm bread and paisano. I can spot seedless rye versus Jewish rye from two rooms away. My fingers are chapped and burned from moving frozen metal speed racks, and it hurts to run them under water.
I finally have the job I've wanted.
My team rocks. Travis and Joe are two very awesome guys that have those personalities like you've known them somewhere before. I feel like I went to school with someone like Travis, but I can't figure out who. Chris and Mandy are great. Sisters. They play off each other, and help the day go by with as many laughs as possible for the mood of the day. Craig is a great guy who is going to run the show someday. At least he works like he is. He knows anything you have a question about. Chad is a brilliant leader that knows his troops and works with us while working for us. Steph is a trip. I like working with her for her sudden outbursts of song and noise. Everyone is great and so's the job. It's what I wanted most for my birthday, and I got it.
Unfortunately, I didn't get a digital camera for my birthday, so there are no pictures of the incredible weekend that preceded my first days at work. Gather around you pictures of Molli Rocket, Andrea Eaton, Martha Mabry, Katie Ackerman, Seth Wells, Matt Bowers, Ian Gitata, Jeremy Weiss, and Megan Davis. They all helped to make the weekend as wonderful as it's been in a while. Things started on Thursday, as Martha and I trucked down to Apex to meet up with Molli, Andrea and Katie, newly arrived from Philly sans Katie. Martha was shitting kittens because she thought we were going to be late for the dinner put on for Molli at St. Andrews in honour of her first major book publication. From what she read at the Fortner Writers Forum I can tell it's going to be a hit with those in the know. The trend these days seems to be to write some violent foray into an action sequence from any blockbuster action movie for a blurb. So let me say that if In Real Life and Other Stories is Molli's bandalerro belt of heavy artillery, then she is well equipped to chase your emotions through a dark alley, and from an elevated position corner them, helplessly, causing them to cry out that they can't run anymore. And, without thinking she leaps off the fire escape and hits the ground, rattling with scorched metal and clips and zippers. She has no consideration for your gasps as her boot plants itself in your diaphragm, and by the end of the encounter she has kicked open the steel back door to some warehouse and disappeared into the inky shadows, and your recollection of the chase is tinged with a guilty amount of Stockholm Syndrome, clouding your eyes for some of the protagonists of this witty and poignant collection of short stories. And that's just what I heard at the reading. I have yet to purchase my own copy (and I make no bones about being surprised at not getting one for my birthday). As long as I have Joe Cocker I'll be okay.
The days kept coming, and after waking up too too early on Friday, Molli, Andrea, Martha and I embarked on a trip north to Raleigh. We listened to the freshest beats provided by Robbie, Steve and Molli. Upon arriving in Raleigh, Martha took on a large rabbit that, when wearing a lettuce beard, bore a striking resemblance to Orson Wells. He was about as big as Orson was near the end too. This rabbit was huge, and loved to shit on the left, so we made sure that nothing valuable was to the left of anything, which is harder than it might seem. Martha went to work like a big loser with rent and a car payment does. The girls and I went to lunch with my mom and dad, who was visiting for Parent's Weekend at NC State. We ate at Cameron's restaurant on Hillsborough, and parked in her complex. Never have I wanted Dr. Wells' anti-towing feature more. Fucking parallel parking. Someday I'll be really good at it with my short car.
We all napped after lunch and chatted about the past and mistakes and made each other feel better about who we have become. You can only do some much of that, so we went to the grocery store, and purchased nothing but ingredients. The ingredients would later become some of the best fish and chips I would ever put in my mouth. If only Ryan had come to the party I would have had him import some jalapeño tartar sauce for the fish and fries. God damn they were good. I need to eat something soon. The fish and chips sat in the center of the room while a kicking party raged on around it. All of those people I told you to gather pictures of earlier, get those pictures out and arrange them in a circle in a blue room. When everyone was arrived and party hardied, we broke out the Cranium because Martha has some affinity for board games. The hard part about playing Cranium is keeping up with the rules, and when people that have played it before have drunk away the rules from their minds, it gets a little more challenging. Martha couldn't understand how to work the timer, and Megan kept roaring with laughter about the littlest things. It was a great time. Around midnight, Martha went to the bathroom, and then collapsed on her bed and passed out. We continued to eat dessert, as numb as we are.
Eventually, we all got tired. Seth, Ian and Megan went back to their place to play cards, and gave me a ride home. Molli and Andrea and Jeremy all stayed up way late talking, and I wish I had stayed over. But the big game was the next day.
Mom, Dad, Cameron and I went to the family weekend football game, and tailgated with the McClains. It was a good time. Bubba Burgers are really good for frozen burgers. I'm still not too sure about the whole meat bubbling thing. Cheese. Hot dogs. Plenty of Apple Teas for me. I was a pig in a waller. Sadly, State lost, as they have been all season. No one was too surprised. I wish we had had seats instead of the bleachers. That would have been nice.
The next day we all went out and celebrated my actual birthday by driving around and checking out the Parade of Homes. There were some truly beautiful houses this year. Ones that make you mad that you don't have the money to live in one. Martha went along for that. I actually ate at KFC because everyone was hungry and that was the only decent option. I had one of those little snacker sandwiches. It was alright. Their barbecue sauce is tasty. I would get the crispy one if I were ever to eat there again. Dad got the bowl, and Martha and I kept poking each other and trying not to laugh because we both kept thinking of Patton Oswalt's KFC Bowl bit. As Dad was chewing I just kept thinking of a "sadness bowl" and "Jesus please move my jaw for me." It was a good day. Topped off by celebrating the day with my favorite of Cameron's boyfriends' family. It was Mr. Averett's birthday and Master Averett's birthday earlier in the week. We ate at Kanki, and had a rip roaring good time catching up and joking around with the chef. The night was topped off with peach cobbler, blackberry pie and ice cream at our house. We talked a lot about Mr. Averett's job because apparently he has to try out the adult diapers that his company makes. We were all laughing pretty hard.
It was a good weekend. I'd say I got everything I wanted. You can arrange the pictures in your mind however you want, but it was the best birthday week I've had in a long time. Stay sharp, and imagine me in a hairnet and slip resistant shoes.
I've been working at the Wellspring Bakehouse in Morrisville for a week and a half now. It's Sunday, and it's a day of rest for the team and I. Days of rest we value more than paychecks, almost. When I get home every day my elbows feel like they're being torn off. I can barely manage to bend over from the pain in my lower back. A shower and bed feel better than they ever have. It's hard work, and my hands and wrists show it. I look like a depressed teenager with all the cardboard cuts running up and down my arms and fingers. There's one little nasty one on my pinky finger that feels more like a puncture wound than a cut. What do I get for all those cuts? I can probably put together a cardboard box, line it, and tape it up faster than any of you. I can fill it with 160 fucking heavy rounds of cookie dough, 15 rolls of pizza dough, 8 rustic bread loafs, 36 rolls of varying types, 25 mini baguettes, 3 pastry flats, 1 5 pound challa loaf, or 8 sandwich loafs. I hate the mini baguettes and jumbles, but I'll still buy them once they reach the store because they taste wonderful. At any given time I can tell you what 11 oz. feels like, and how many mini cookies it takes to make 11 oz. I can tell you the difference between farm bread and paisano. I can spot seedless rye versus Jewish rye from two rooms away. My fingers are chapped and burned from moving frozen metal speed racks, and it hurts to run them under water.
I finally have the job I've wanted.
My team rocks. Travis and Joe are two very awesome guys that have those personalities like you've known them somewhere before. I feel like I went to school with someone like Travis, but I can't figure out who. Chris and Mandy are great. Sisters. They play off each other, and help the day go by with as many laughs as possible for the mood of the day. Craig is a great guy who is going to run the show someday. At least he works like he is. He knows anything you have a question about. Chad is a brilliant leader that knows his troops and works with us while working for us. Steph is a trip. I like working with her for her sudden outbursts of song and noise. Everyone is great and so's the job. It's what I wanted most for my birthday, and I got it.
Unfortunately, I didn't get a digital camera for my birthday, so there are no pictures of the incredible weekend that preceded my first days at work. Gather around you pictures of Molli Rocket, Andrea Eaton, Martha Mabry, Katie Ackerman, Seth Wells, Matt Bowers, Ian Gitata, Jeremy Weiss, and Megan Davis. They all helped to make the weekend as wonderful as it's been in a while. Things started on Thursday, as Martha and I trucked down to Apex to meet up with Molli, Andrea and Katie, newly arrived from Philly sans Katie. Martha was shitting kittens because she thought we were going to be late for the dinner put on for Molli at St. Andrews in honour of her first major book publication. From what she read at the Fortner Writers Forum I can tell it's going to be a hit with those in the know. The trend these days seems to be to write some violent foray into an action sequence from any blockbuster action movie for a blurb. So let me say that if In Real Life and Other Stories is Molli's bandalerro belt of heavy artillery, then she is well equipped to chase your emotions through a dark alley, and from an elevated position corner them, helplessly, causing them to cry out that they can't run anymore. And, without thinking she leaps off the fire escape and hits the ground, rattling with scorched metal and clips and zippers. She has no consideration for your gasps as her boot plants itself in your diaphragm, and by the end of the encounter she has kicked open the steel back door to some warehouse and disappeared into the inky shadows, and your recollection of the chase is tinged with a guilty amount of Stockholm Syndrome, clouding your eyes for some of the protagonists of this witty and poignant collection of short stories. And that's just what I heard at the reading. I have yet to purchase my own copy (and I make no bones about being surprised at not getting one for my birthday). As long as I have Joe Cocker I'll be okay.
The days kept coming, and after waking up too too early on Friday, Molli, Andrea, Martha and I embarked on a trip north to Raleigh. We listened to the freshest beats provided by Robbie, Steve and Molli. Upon arriving in Raleigh, Martha took on a large rabbit that, when wearing a lettuce beard, bore a striking resemblance to Orson Wells. He was about as big as Orson was near the end too. This rabbit was huge, and loved to shit on the left, so we made sure that nothing valuable was to the left of anything, which is harder than it might seem. Martha went to work like a big loser with rent and a car payment does. The girls and I went to lunch with my mom and dad, who was visiting for Parent's Weekend at NC State. We ate at Cameron's restaurant on Hillsborough, and parked in her complex. Never have I wanted Dr. Wells' anti-towing feature more. Fucking parallel parking. Someday I'll be really good at it with my short car.
We all napped after lunch and chatted about the past and mistakes and made each other feel better about who we have become. You can only do some much of that, so we went to the grocery store, and purchased nothing but ingredients. The ingredients would later become some of the best fish and chips I would ever put in my mouth. If only Ryan had come to the party I would have had him import some jalapeño tartar sauce for the fish and fries. God damn they were good. I need to eat something soon. The fish and chips sat in the center of the room while a kicking party raged on around it. All of those people I told you to gather pictures of earlier, get those pictures out and arrange them in a circle in a blue room. When everyone was arrived and party hardied, we broke out the Cranium because Martha has some affinity for board games. The hard part about playing Cranium is keeping up with the rules, and when people that have played it before have drunk away the rules from their minds, it gets a little more challenging. Martha couldn't understand how to work the timer, and Megan kept roaring with laughter about the littlest things. It was a great time. Around midnight, Martha went to the bathroom, and then collapsed on her bed and passed out. We continued to eat dessert, as numb as we are.
Eventually, we all got tired. Seth, Ian and Megan went back to their place to play cards, and gave me a ride home. Molli and Andrea and Jeremy all stayed up way late talking, and I wish I had stayed over. But the big game was the next day.
Mom, Dad, Cameron and I went to the family weekend football game, and tailgated with the McClains. It was a good time. Bubba Burgers are really good for frozen burgers. I'm still not too sure about the whole meat bubbling thing. Cheese. Hot dogs. Plenty of Apple Teas for me. I was a pig in a waller. Sadly, State lost, as they have been all season. No one was too surprised. I wish we had had seats instead of the bleachers. That would have been nice.
The next day we all went out and celebrated my actual birthday by driving around and checking out the Parade of Homes. There were some truly beautiful houses this year. Ones that make you mad that you don't have the money to live in one. Martha went along for that. I actually ate at KFC because everyone was hungry and that was the only decent option. I had one of those little snacker sandwiches. It was alright. Their barbecue sauce is tasty. I would get the crispy one if I were ever to eat there again. Dad got the bowl, and Martha and I kept poking each other and trying not to laugh because we both kept thinking of Patton Oswalt's KFC Bowl bit. As Dad was chewing I just kept thinking of a "sadness bowl" and "Jesus please move my jaw for me." It was a good day. Topped off by celebrating the day with my favorite of Cameron's boyfriends' family. It was Mr. Averett's birthday and Master Averett's birthday earlier in the week. We ate at Kanki, and had a rip roaring good time catching up and joking around with the chef. The night was topped off with peach cobbler, blackberry pie and ice cream at our house. We talked a lot about Mr. Averett's job because apparently he has to try out the adult diapers that his company makes. We were all laughing pretty hard.
It was a good weekend. I'd say I got everything I wanted. You can arrange the pictures in your mind however you want, but it was the best birthday week I've had in a long time. Stay sharp, and imagine me in a hairnet and slip resistant shoes.
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