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spud

:: 2011 18 January :: 2.08am
:: Music: SuperLibrary - it continues to grow

so.... you hit it and then it works?
yes. yes it does.

so, i live on a cul-de-sac (which is a word i despise, but there really is no other word for it...). at the very end is a path that leads to the school behind the house. by the path are a fire hydrant and a streetlamp. now, for the past year or so, the light wouldn't always turn on automatically. sometimes you'd have to kick it, nudge it, whatever you felt like doing in order to jostle the thing to life. now, at first it was just every once in awhile. then it got to be once a month. still a novelty at this point, as i spend a lot of time visiting with the neighbors across the path, and he would usually beat me to it. but eventually it got to be once a week.... then every fucking day. that got old for him (i was excited to have a fighting chance to be the first one to kick it), so he called up the township or whoever is in charge of maintaining the lights (yay 'burb life) and asked them to come fix it. they say yeah, sure, first thing.

about a month later he calls them back, reminding them of their promise to fix the damn thing... he even has the file number they gave him from the first call he made so she could look it up. she said the number didn't really matter. okay, whatever. "but yeah, someone needs to get out here to fix this soon. i'm getting sick of kicking it."
"i'm sorry? what seems to be the problem with it?"
"well, it doesn't turn on when it gets dark, so you have to hit the pole so it turns on."
"so, you hit it, and it comes on."
"yes ma'am, i'm not pulling your leg. it really turns on when i kick it."
"huh. you sure?"
"yup."
"alrighty, well i'll send someone out within the week. your file number is 1928340987-"
"-i thought you said the number didn't matter."
"oh. well, yeah, right. you have a good day then."
"thanks, you too."

i'm only semi-bullshitting the conversation there. it's not verbatim but that's the gist of what he described to me.

i just didn't realize that hitting things to make them work could be so foreign to somebody. it's like, the first thing i do. not violently. just to see if there's a bad connection or something. i guess maybe she was just surprised that hitting it actually worked. she must have a bad track record of hitting things and having them remain woefully unmended or something. guess i've got the magic touch.

all i know is, about a month ago they finally fixed the blasted thing, and now it's brighter than blazes all effing night long out there. it seriously hurts my eyes to look out the window. and it's got this weird pinkish hue to it. i almost liked the broken one better.


see what i mean? bright.


-----------------------------

in other news, i'm still a sagittarius, pluto's still a fucking planet, and triceratops is still the most badass herbivore this side of the big bang. the bce/ce from bc/ad didn't bother me as much. i mean, change typically comes slowly for me, if at all, so i still use the old ones, but i don't mind seeing the new ones because of the unholy ruckus the bible-bangers made about it. if you're too shortsighted to see that changing the name of something doesn't change the thing itself, then i really don't care about whatever got your panties in a bunch. we need some way to measure time. the modern world is too fast paced for people to say "year of our lord twenty-hundred and eleven." and the documentation on christ's life and when exactly that was is a little ... spotty. science demanded a more precise measurement, for whatever sciency things it is there doing in there. as long as they don't burn the place down i guess i'll let them stay. until i get pissed about whatever they pry from my unwilling fingers next week. fuckers.

--------------------------

so i've been tutoring this kid for the past couple of months. he's mildly autistic, which means he's in normal classes, and social enough, but it makes my job difficult. it's not that he can't focus. he can focus plenty, if it's something that interests him. it's that he can't focus on algebra 2 when he doesn't feel like it. which is most of the time. so, instead he's always telling me about all this different stuff that does interest him. like some cartoon he was watching with his brother, or this video game he's designing. tonight he was regaling me with how there are different types of fruit. shit you not. he's got this bowl of fruit, and he comments on how the strawberries are making him pucker. i sample one and concede that it's a little tart, for a strawberry, at which point he launches into this thing about how there are different types of fruits within the same species. well, not species, but that's the word he'll use (i'm not entirely convinced he was wrong on that count). "like, apples. there are all sorts of different kinds of apples. macintosh. jonathan. that one's named after me."
"alright, so, the opposite of b, plus or minus the square root of b squared minus 4ac, all over 2a." he stops to pet the dog. and play with the 2 remaining chunks of strawberry.
"but it's all food, i guess. i mean, it's not alive, like animals, but it still provides sustenance." i kindly explain that fruit is indeed a living organism until we kill it, much the same as animals, though admittedly less mobile.
"well, it's still food."
"okay, so in this function b is 4, a is negative one, and c is 8, so...."

and that's pretty much how it goes. he talks about his girlfriend a lot too. apparently she wasn't at school today because her mother felt she needed to be home to celebrate martin luther king day (she's black, after all). seemed justifiable to me. i'm just trying to figure out how she can do that, when it's exam week. whatever. you know, i want a white person holiday. you know, one where we celebrate how our ancestors took advantage of all the minorities to their own personal gain. and all of them (our ancestors) are dead now! one ethnic dead person holiday deserves another!

oh, god, when the shit happened with the birds and fish in arkansas, he was telling me about how she thought there was a volcano in arkansas that was going to erupt and destroy the world. her particular brand of autism apparently has a penchant for the doom and gloom, so it doesn't take much to get her going. but this was a very real concern in her mind, and so it becomes that much more real for those in her life. the unerring font of knowledge i doubtless am in his mind, i felt obligated to elucidate. and honestly, i tend to figure i might as well, since i'm not convinced i've actually taught him anything about math at all. i know his folks are paying me to help with school, but i figure any seed i can get to germinate, whatever the topic, is a mini-success and makes my time worthwhile. so i told him about how there was some speculation that yellowstone - decidedly not arkansas - may erupt "soon". in geologic terms, soon is probably not in our lifetime. but it's a possibility. even if that does happen, it's not going to be the apocalypse. it'll do a dandy number on most of the US, michigan included, but i doubt it would completely kill off all the humans on the planet. he seemed reassured by that; mission accomplished.

---------------------------

so this book i'm reading right now is basically robin hood, as this guy thinks it should be, or might have been. he's based it in the 11th century in what is modern day wales. he's changed things completely, but it's well written and actually seems far more realistic than most of the romanticized robin hood crap we're used to seeing at the movies. if you're genuinely interested, you should start with the first book in the trilogy, though. anyway, the language tends to have this overly formal archaic type of style to it. most of the books i've read by him are that way, at least at times. but once i start to get into the swing of it, i think i could really run rampant and emulate that voice fairly well. i think it would be a fun experiment to try. maybe not as accessible to readers, but fun. and i could be verbose without it seeming like as much of a stretch. condescension and overly flowery language are pretty much expected from that dialect. i couple probably pull it off. i'm halfway there already, right?

right.

4 Opened Doors | Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 27 December :: 4.33pm
:: Mood: apologetic

Me, delinquent? Never!

so, obviously the goal of one post per week was achieved for approximately one week.

part if it was simply the hustle and bustle of the holidays. and the other part was me trying to get my life in some semblance of order, failing, and burying myself in fantasy fiction instead. i'm indulgent like that.

so, i'm still here, and i'd still like to keep posting more relevant/interesting stuff, but it's going to take me time to gather the material and compose the entries. i've got plenty of fodder, so it's just a matter of taking the time to assemble it.

sure i could post some bullshit once a week and stick to my deadline, but i'd rather go for quality than quantity, so i'll post whenever i damn well feel like it, and you fuckers will just have to deal with that. just know that when i DO post, it will be what i consider to be at least passable, since i rarely think any of my writing is particularly excellent, and never perfect.

in the meantime, i hope everyone is making the most of their holidays! eat, drink, and be merry! god knows i am.

1 Opened Door | Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 12 December :: 10.56pm
:: Mood: memories

That's why they call it dope.
Alright kids, gather 'round and listen up, because it's - story time!

This story in particular has all of the qualities that any great story has: drug use, police involvement, and general stupidity. I trust now, that your interest is adequately piqued, and you have all you can do to keep from salivating. No, seriously. Go get a napkin or something. That shit is grossing me out.

That's better.

Now, this was a few years ago, back when I was in college still, and had even fewer responsibilities than I do now. I also had a girlfriend. Said girlfriend - we'll call her Lady - lived in an apartment on campus with 3 other girls. This was the end of exam week, so 2 of the gals had already left and gone home to regale their parents with all these stories of how we were all very responsible and had gotten loads smarter over the last 9 months. So that leaves Lady, other roommate - we'll call her Kay - and myself with this apartment to ourselves, and we were appropriately celebrating the end of the semester. Kay was the drinker out of the group. I may have had a couple, but was for all intents and purposes, sober. I can't honestly recall if Lady had been drinking or not. Doesn't much matter either way. So, anyway, we're all happy that the bullshit is over, and are very much looking forward to a summer of well-mannered frivolity. By lucky happenstance, I had recently acquired about a quarter ounce of pot that was in desperate need of smoking. However, they were getting ready to vacate the apartment, and didn't want it to smell like weed when the people came through for final inspection, so obviously we couldn't smoke there.... (we totally could've. It's a wonder what a bathroom fan and fabreeze can do. But what happened happened.)

After a few minutes of weighing our options and debating with one another about the best course of action, Kay suggests that we go and smoke in her car. Beautiful! So, we gather up the necessaries, and go out to the car in the unfortunately well-lit parking lot outside the building. Well, that just wouldn't do. Kay doesn't want to drive, as she'd been drinking, and Lady doesn't want to drive because ... well, because she's a puss. That's how yours truly got landed with driving duties. Even still, so far, so good. We hop in Biffy, the affectionate epithet Kay had chosen for the vehicle, and I'm speeding us off into the night. I don't want to smoke while I'm driving, so I set the girls to the task of finding us a place to park. We see a bunch of cars parked along the road outside of a house off-campus. It's like 2 in the morning. Guess we're not the only ones celebrating the end of the semester, eh? Well, cool, we'll just park on the side of the road with these other cars and blend in with the crowd. Great idea! So, we park, and I have to pack the bowl, because the other two are utterly worthless and I am their slave, apparently. So we spark it up, and pass it around until it's gone. I say "okay, I'm good, let's go back now." Kay wants to smoke some more. Lady decides to join in. I make them pack their own damn bowl this time. It's starting to hit, so I'm a little edgy, and am increasingly more eager to get back to the homestead and sit down with a movie and a bag of doritos. Is that really so much to ask?

Right as they're about ready to light round 2, we see our friendly neighborhood campus security officer cruise by, obviously scoping out the party. They can't break it up because it's not in their jurisdiction, but they can call in the county sheriffs if anything seems amiss. So far, they're just cruising. So, Kay and Lady finish the job, and we see the campus police make yet another loop around the block. At which point I say screw this, let's get out of here. Unfortunately, neither I, nor any of the other occupants of the vehicle had noticed the droves of people now stumbling their way from the house to all of their parked vehicles on the road. FUCK. Party's over. So, now it looks like we're also leaving the party, even though we were never there in the first place. And then I remember that Biffy has a bum headlight and a taillight housing that Kay had destroyed by backing into a parked car. Fanfuckingtastic. And in my infinite wisdom (that's why they call it dope), I pull out directly behind the cop car, which then turns left, down the same road that I need to use to get back to the apartment, and rather than just go straight and figure out an alternate route, I continue to follow them. They notice the headlight, or lack thereof, pull off to the side and allow me to pass, and then begin to tail me. It's right around this time that the faintest notion of winding up in jail begins to surface in my brain. But still, they're not doing anything, just following me. Not wanting to speed, I'm pretty sure I went 25-30 the whole way. Longest half-mile of my life - or, at least, it felt that way. As some of you may know, marijuana affects the way you perceive time. We finally make it to the parking lot outside the apartment building - woohu! I signal my turn, hit the brakes to slow down, and pull into the lot, at which point the damn blue and red lights rear their ugly head. Abandoning its fairly benign beginnings as a fuzzy notion, jail is suddenly becoming a very real concern. We do the whole pep talk with each other before the cop has time to get to the door. If you've ever been pulled over, you know the drill. Stashed the weed? License and registration? Seatbelts on? Everybody has their IDs? Fuck. I left my wallet upstairs.... not like I was planning on getting pulled over or anything. And we have a quarter sitting under the passenger seat that is technically mine, and I doubt the other 2 would have too much hesitation in throwing me under the bus.

So to recap; we're in Kay's car, which has a bad headlight and a bad taillight. I'm driving. And Lady is the only one who had enough sense to bring her identification. Bloody fucking brilliant. I can already smell the soap on a rope. Officer knocks and I roll down the window. I hand him the registration and insurance info, along with Lady's ID. He asks for the other IDs and I kindly explain that Kay and I forgot ours. He asks for my name so he can go look it up on the computer. Christopher is a really long name, and is difficult to spell when you're stoned - even though I've had it my whole life. Even still, it's pretty common, and I use the normal spelling. My last name is easy, but people tend to overthink it. I don't know how many times I've given someone my name, and they're like "best? How do you spell that?" The same way Noah fucking Webster spells it, you dumbass! Stop making it more difficult than is has to be. It's the worst over the phone. Anyway, he goes and checks his fancy-pants computer for me. He comes back and says he can't find me on the system (probably because my name is so difficult to spell). He asks if I've been drinking tonight. I say nope, haven't had anything to drink. He does the finger test. You know the one (no, not that one). "Keep your eyes on my finger and don't move your head. My head remains stationary as my eyes attempt to burn holes into the most fascinating moving finger I've ever seen. (I was very high at this point. I couldn't not stare at it.) He's like, "well, there's the smell of intoxicants coming from the vehicle." Thankfully Kay pipes up at this point and explains that she'd been drinking, which is why they had me drive. Nice save! I owe you one! After I get done giving Kay mental high fives and having him commend us for being responsible, he lets us off with a warning and gives Kay a repair and report for being lazy in her vehicle maintenance.

I'm still in shock from the whole thing and have so much adrenaline going, I can barely park Biffy and walk inside. We all agree that we can't just go to sleep yet, even though it's 3:30 in the morning at this point. So we decide to watch Finding Nemo. It was a nice comforting familiar sort of movie, which helped calm us down, but every time I've tried watching it since, it's just not the same anymore. Thanks guys for ruining a perfectly good pixar movie and nearly landing me in jail for my efforts.

Next time, we're just smoking in the bathroom. F'realz.

P.S. I wound up having to take a drug test for my summer job like 3 days later. I think I drank about a gallon of water that day. Somehow, I passed.

Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 7 December :: 1.41am
:: Mood: reflective
:: Music: plain white Ts (it's okay to judge me)

what the fuck is a weblog anyway?
it has recently come to light in christopher-world that i pretty much treat this like a diary, only other people can read it. which is fine. suits my purposes nicely. but at the same time, it could be so much more than that.

my stepdad, bruce (who some of you have had the pleasure of meeting) started his blog maybe a year ago. i was a pretty avid follower at first, even though i've heard it all before, but haven't been able to keep up with his frienzied pace of posts and comments and have ultimately decided to let it fall by the wayside. that, and he started pimping out all these other blogs, a few of which are pretty fucking cool. (although, bruce's evil twin is usually a fun read. especially if you feel there's a lack of cussing in your daily life) like i said, i've heard all of his bullshit before. i'm more interested in hearing this new, fresh stuff that i've discovered is out there. and it's kind of weird how they're all like this little virtual community. not that woohu isn't just that, but it's interesting for me to be viewing the community from the outside this time around. and it is making uncomfortably apparent all of the shortcomings of my own blog.

a couple of the guys that make me feel like such a slacker are simple dude, who lives in a complex world, and jeff over at content unrelated.

simple dude is basically what i could one day aspire to be (and i think it's interesting that he always talks about his "lady friend" and "sexy times", because that's the exact terminology i always used with shannon), and jeff is pretty much what i would be now, if i was actually really funny, and lived someplace warm.

i mean, it's too fucking late to start working on any content of value tonight, but i'm thinking that in the future, i might start trying to be a bit more professional - and consistent - about what i'm doing with this thing and when i update. i think one a week is a good goal to have, but it is me we're talking about, after all. regardless, i could stand to benefit from changing the way i approach blogging in general, and actually writing as if i have an audience to entertain. it seems like a fun challenge.

so, is there any shit going on in the world today that you want to hear my spin on? if so, leave a comment.

now, let's go see if there's any inspiration left in that tequila bottle upstairs....

Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 30 November :: 1.38am

outing myself

yes, i'm on zoosk. sorry. i'm still not entirely sure why. but it intrigues me to see who's out there. at the same time, it's depressing to realize that everyone (who uses a dating service) is stupid.

attention zooskers (it's a word now. noah webster is rolling in his grave):

just because you graduated from high school does not mean that you have a graduate degree. if this many 22 year olds actually had a masters, i would not be so disappointed in humanity. instead, my sadness is deepened further by the fact that they don't understand the difference. if you're 22, divorced, with kids at home, you do not have a graduate degree. please stop claiming anything to the contrary. i apologise that i smoke and drink on a regular basis. beyond all that, i'm not such a bad guy. even still, i'm probably not the best one to help raise your intellectually challenged spawn from that asshole that dumped you. if for no other reason than the fact that i lack the financial wherewithal to do so. and i can probably come up with a few other reasons to boot. namely, i don't want to.

8 Opened Doors | Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 27 November :: 3.54am

Stinger hasn't even finished scanning yet and I can tell mom's lappy is pretty fucked. Not because of viruses so much as because she never deletes ANYTHING, and there are a gajillion processes running in the background. I can't see them for some reason, but I can tell they are there, just by the way it's running.

4 Opened Doors | Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 18 October :: 3.59pm
:: Mood: pensive

is that why they say people 'fall' for each other?
journal is going to be 9 years old this winter.

way to be fucking old, journal. you should try harder.

--------------------------------------

i keep seeing all these people getting together. i suppose it's all part of the annual cycle. as gunnie said, it's the time of year when i really start wanting a girlfriend.

it seems like summer's all about being single, and going out and playing the field. but now that it's fall, people are all getting ready to settle down and prepare for the winter hibernation. plus i think there's just something romantic about the leaves and the harvest and all that. it's a nice time of year to appreciate the coziness and warmth that can be had in a relationship - especially a fresh one.

the more i see people shacking up (and for the first time ever, my sister is one of them... don't think i haven't noticed that she's been hiding him from the family), the more left out i feel. not that i want to be a part of the herd necessarily, but i like the coziness and the warm fuzzies. and it's really hard to get that by yourself. after all, i should know.

speaking of The Herd; chuck and i have begun writing our Cultural Revolution Manifesto, or CRM. it's currently a very rough first draft. once we do some editing, augmentation, and revisions, i will start posting up the revised copies as we finish them. neither of us is very motivated, so who knows how long it will be. but at least we're getting started.

peace out, mr. j. it's been a pleasure, as always.

p.s. went to visit mike yesterday. he's doing incredibly well, considering that 3 weeks ago he was as good as dead. seems to know what's going on for the most part, but still gets confused occasionally. at least his nurses are cute. that should make things more tolerable.

5 Opened Doors | Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 30 September :: 4.58pm
:: Mood: cheerful
:: Music: The Eels

Just a quickie...
Been busting my ass lately. doing lots of digging, building, chainsawing, etc. at the boss's house. cut down a pine tree with the neighbor here at the house last weekend. busy busy busy.

but i have tomorrow off. i am sleeping in, goddammit.

it feels good to have been accomplishing stuff. and my muscles are really sore, but that should be a good thing, right? right.

last weekend our friend mike was in an accident. he was drunk, supposedly driving home, which doesn't explain what he was doing out on lincoln lake rd. when he was in GR, and lives in Grant. he hit a firetruck, which then rolled down an embankment. but at least he had prompt first aid. he's still unconscious in intensive care, but he seems to have stabilized a bit, and is even improving in some regards. it was pretty touch and go for awhile, and there's still the likelihood of paralysis, and a slight risk of brain damage. i guess at least he didn't kill anyone. it's weird, because mike has always driven drunk. i'm not sure if it's more surprising that it happened at all, or that it took this long. but, if you pray, he and his family really need it. i have been, in my own way.

sorry if that brought you down. just the facts of whats going on.

otherwise, it's life as usual. i actually have a bit of money in the bank, which blows my mind. and it's not a lot. so, i'm just waiting for something expensive to happen. but in the meantime, it feels good to have a little cushion. and gas in the truck.

now, to work on whittling away at some of that money and starting off my long weekend properly....

2 Opened Doors | Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 11 August :: 12.51am

let's see....

canoe trip was fun.

cedar point was awesome.

i spent some time today tearing the mower apart, cleaning it out, replacing the fuel line, and then reassembling everything. it still ran like shit, but at least it still ran - i didn't break anything! which also means that it's probably the spark plug. i pulled it and it's pretty well fried, i think. sometimes it's hard to tell with those; they can look all crudded up and still fire okay. but since it's not running and i already checked pretty much everything else on the engine, process of elimination mandates that it is indeed the culprit. a new one will either confirm or deny the theory, at any rate. it's kinda dumb that i tore it all apart, and still didn't fix the problem, but the fuel line needed to be done anyway, so it worked out.

kinda taking a hiatus from the painting thing so i can help watch joe while he's up for the week. i do have to run and put in a bunch of screens at another house tomorrow afternoon. apparently the new tenants really want them. i have no idea if that hare-brained scheme of the hooks and latches is going to work, but there's only one way to find out.

dropped bruce's boat off at van's today. we'll see what they come up with. i wasn't there when he encountered the problem, so i have no idea what might be going on with that thing. invariably, it's something to do with the fact that he's left it sitting in the woods for the last two years, and has only taken it out on the water a select few occasions in that span of time. he's not very neat or clean or proper with that thing, all of which are kind of requisite. outboard motors are notoriously finnicky and demand special attention... which is why his never run correctly.
i did feel really dumb, though. i had to use chuck's truck to tow it down there, since i only have an 1 7/8" ball on my truck, and it's a 2" hitch on that trailer. but chuck's truck only has the round trailer light jack, while the trailer has a flat plug. so i drove it all the way to alpine without trailer lights, because i was running out of time and didn't know what else to do. i just had to get it done and get his truck back to him. after i drop it off, bruce calls to see how i'm doing. i explain about the plug thing, and he says, "isn't the adapter in that orange bin?"
"what orange bin?"
"the one i gave you with all the trailer hitch stuff in it"
". . . oh. that one. yeah, maybe. didn't think to check there."
i get home (sans trailer), and sure as shit, it's sitting right there in the orange bin with all the trailer hitch stuff. i felt like such a dumbass. and driving that thing over there without lights was no treat, let me tell you. people on alpine will tailgate and cut you off simultaneously, without warning; especially if you're towing something. and that's dangerous when they don't have any way of knowing you had to slam on your brakes for smiling Jack Asshole, who realized at the last possible second that this was his turn, so he darts across two lanes of traffic halfway through the intersection. yeah, alpine.

3 Opened Doors | Choose my Destiny


spud

:: 2010 16 July :: 3.03pm

my life right now

A breadth-first search makes a lot of sense for dating in general, actually; it suggests dating a bunch of people casually before getting serious, rather than having a series of five-year relationships one after the other.

3 Opened Doors | Choose my Destiny

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