Merry Christmas
12/01/98 - Casting a 50 foot shadow I walk through Bandy field at 8:00am. The feeling is not unlike rising early in the woods. The sun blinds sight to the east. The sun turns a landscape into painful brightness. The sun paints with pure light. The sounds are all wrong, though. I can hear cars. And instead of straightening my hiking shorts upon leaving the tent I'm trying not to kick leaves into my khaki's cuffs. And I know I'm walking to work instead of walking right back whence I came yesterday carrying the same 50 pound pack... ok, maybe that is the same thing but walking to and from nowhere is more fun than walking to and from work. Hey, do you think you burn more calories walking distance X when you don't want to walk it than you do when you do want to walk it? I hope so. And why are morning and evening so much better times to walk than mid day and mid night? Maybe because the shadows are bigger.
12/02/98 - Well, this is attempt 2 this morning. Attempt one was snatched from me when my computer got snooty and crashed. I have a pretty good idea what I said but I'll not repeat myself. Jane delivered to my desk a pair of brownies which I, despite my fattness, ate with great glee. Gobbled them right on up. One bite each took down the pair. I do that too well. It doesn't take much considering to see why I'm suddenly not the wee Lee I used to be. Yesterday I promised myself no more office candy until 1999... at home for lunch I found and devoured a Butterfinger bar. My resolve frequently fails to meet my desire's spirit. Bummer. I've draw battle lines thousands of times and I shall draw them many thousand more until I can finally align myself with who I want to be. It's that simple. I can and will win this war or die trying because as soon as I let myself settle for the lazy, unfulfilled life into which I could easily flop I'm as good as dead anyway, right? That's what Mel Gibson said in Braveheart. You gotta believe what you hear in movies, right? Why did I have to spoil such a neat idea by bringing in a skirted, painted face Australian with a bad Scottish brogue (my dictionary says brogue is mainly used with Irish but, Hey, Scotland is pretty close)? My first entry was much better; too bad it's lost forever.
12/03/98 - I clean my ears post shower each morning with a Q-Tip. Most mornings... in fact every morning prior to this morning I toss the used cotton swab into the garbage. Today, for some screwy reason, I tossed the cleaning product into the toilet bowl. Back in the fall of 1995 I had the great displeasure of experiencing a toilet so severely clogged it backed up into my shower. Never wanting this joyous mess again I take great caution to put nothing but toilet paper and tissues (and other things I'll not even note hear) in the bowl. There this morning, to my extreme shock, floating in my bowl was the Q-Tip I recently used. At first I tried to fabricate a rational reason for its presence other than the obvious: Kara must have put it there because I'd never do THAT. But then I'd used the toilet since she left... CRAP! IT'S MY FAULT. In near panic I concluded, to my disgust, I must cleanse the toilet of this potentially malicious intruder (ok, intruder is a touch harsh, but it made me feel less guilty to personify in this way). I held my breath and in a fluid sweeping motion snatched the Q-Tip from within the pristine white porceline throne and placed it rightfully in the garbage. Then I shuddered. My hand was dredfully dirty. I moved it quickly to the sink careful not to shed any toilet water on the floor. As crisp and clean as toilet water looks I'm convinced in teems with vile, evil gak. In near boiling tap water I scrubbed evey inch of every finger... twice. If I could have removed my nails I would have done so. Though this event is 90 minutes in my past its essence continues to shape my day... ok, I'm lying.
12/04/98 - Today is once again Ugly Shirt Day. That's not new, but it is the first time I've combined Ugly Shirt Day with Ugly Sock Day. Kara found a pair of Mickey Mouse Christmas socks I'm wearing in concert with my flag shirt (Hey, Jim! Remember the $1 outlet find?). My friend Cecy hates this shirt. Whoa, I got distracted by a joke email to which a response was required... I'm back. And work is here, too. That's the pisser about being at work... the people paying me expect me to do some. Luckily they also expect me to maintain a web page so with that thought in mind I keep writing. Let's see, what's happening. Help Wanted goes back into the studio today for the beginings of HW3. Kara leaves for a Dallas business trip/conference doowhooper... actually, she leaves on sunday. I take her to the airport. I can't believe how much I dred missing her. Actually I can believe but I don't want to think about it... So I wore really loud clothing expecting people to notice and make me think about other things.
12/07/98 - In all honesty I considered calling in sick today. I don't feel sick but I don't feel good. I feel like sleeping. I feel like staring blankly at a wall. Letting my eyes close... slowly. But in other news the heat hasn't been needed in my house for several days now. What's up with 80 degree December days? Who knows but they're bringing me down. Down, down, down. I feel like a slug. My office seems to be a heat sponge. It's highly unpleasant here. Well, what do you know? I'm dwelling on bad. My grandboss Louie flies into Hawaii today. The Japanese paid a visit 57 years ago. Neither Louie nor I were alive at the time, but we've seen pictures. War is a monsterous thing. Thank God its scale hasn't escalated to its size as it shook the world back then. Big, bad, ugly, man-eating beastie it is. Well, my thought train has left me behind. It tired of waiting as I stepped off to speak to those visiting my office. I feel like going home. I feel like lemonade and sugar cookies. I feel like anything but work. I guess it's time to play adult for a while.
12/08/98 - Have you ever had one of those weird gut feelings you can't explain? Of course you have. Everyone does. In a world so scientific it's hard to justify behavior based on something beyond science. Yet people in droves head for church, or temple or whatever buildings to which their faith carries them. People say "God, help me do X; give me a sign." Do they expect a burning bush? Could they explain the burning bush if it did appear? The answer is simply: "No". Who was it that said God would recall him to Heaven if he didn't raise $X? Regardless, how many people believed him? I don't believe George Burns will ever pop down here and start explain things to me. The point here is we're so inclined to trust only science, logic and that which can be substanciated that we ignore or scuff at anything beyond these bounds including quasi-religious events. (Do you believe God delivers signs through Virgin Mary shaped mold deposits on old refrigerators?) I do hold faith in certain scientific possibilities... until they're discredited. This, if nothing else, is fun... hopeful. Let me touch on one. Time is a perception trick. All points in time exist at once and it's only our limited perception parsing events into a line. I don't recall the mathematical details of this (I believe they're illuminated in, among other places, Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time"... my copy of which resides temporarily in a box 4 stories above a bad neighborhood near downtown R, VA). The possibility to which I allude is this: Maybe it is possible to perceive other times and places. The possibility hasn't been eliminated by science. Even more importantly, the possibility has been suggested by credible scientists.
12/09/98 - Couple Random thoughts: Prince's song "1999" is not about the millenium's end but about the Y2K computer glitch. "Y2K" what a silly, pretentious name. It reminds me of some stuffed suits progeny. Ok, I really wanted to use "progeny" so I did. Technically it means the physical offspring but I've stretched it slightly to mean the mental offspring. You have some pompous, clean handed lout with nothing better to do than ponder cute names while his underfed minions struggle to fix the poorly managed spaghetti he calls software. Ok, I didn't justify my redefinition well but my coffee tastes awesome. Perhaps the best I've had in a long while. Good coffee betters even the poorest of word choices. Confederate citizens, strangled by Union blockades and unable to get the real thing, tried making coffee from about everything. Unsuccessful attempts included burnt acorns; successful attempts included sassafras tea. Tea... that's what I drink when I don't feel like making coffee. I'm being silly... so I'll stop.
12/10/98 - The worries of adult life have sprong upon me. I want yet I can't afford. Luckily I need and I can. Serious stuff. Aging sucks. At 10 I had no idea the world held such inequities. My friends may have had more Star Wars figures than I but then I had a cooler bunkbed so it all seemed to balance. All 10 year olds make the same yearly salary: zip. It all worked so well. It wasn't until high school that I noticed that girl drives a BMW and I get to use my parent's old Buick. Real differences were still a world away. College threw in more differences but still things seemed stable. Suddenly I'm working. I'm doing well. But I notice things. Here I am supposedly doing well but I think I'm barely scraping by (excuse that please, Mr. C). If I'm THIS high on the food chain how are people less high than I dealing? Ugh... guilt. And how do people higher than I (and there are quite a few) stand the guilt knowing, in most cases, they were placed where they are and didn't struggle to get there? Ok, I read a newspaper article calling this "liberal white guilt"; pretty cool phrase, eh? And I'm somewhat conservative. More thinking must be done... then some action.
12/11/98 - My mom used to place a little foot tall Christmas tree on my dresser each december. The tree followed me to college then to my past dozen or so addresses and has been my sole Christmas tree. This year I plan to remove it from the Nike racing shoe box in which it dwells but it won't be my only tree. Last night Kara and I set out in rush hour traffic for the little town of Midlothian where my Mom says the best tree vendor is camped. We made it over the river and to the woods but the traffic backed up further than I've even seen it snarl. I U turned in the middle of Huguenot road and returned to my side of the river where I'd seen a tree vendor camped by the Virginia Eye Institute. It turns out this lady does this during the X-mas season and works in advertising for the year's remainder. Her helper is a landscaper who finds the grass cutting business slow this time of year. Kara and I found a nice $48 fir. My trunk is bigger than it looks... the tree fit easily and in a 25 minute round trip we bagged our decorative symbol. That in a nutshell is the story du jour. Merry Weekend... I'll be watching soccer games for most of it.
12/14/98 - Once again the political powers are playing games hoping we're stupid little media susceptible dunderheads. And in some small way we are. Our government has a skeleton. This skeleton is our Constitution. The Constitution provides our government with 3 arms: An Executive arm; a Judicial arm; and a Legislative arm. These three arms are all tendoned together so one arm can't go wildly waving without consent (sort of) of the other arms. Most people, including the one writting these words remember about that much from grade school civics. The thing our politicians use against us is our ignorance. See, do you know that censure is a extra-Constitutional solution to our lying President problems? It's as un-Constitutional as seceding from the Union. And the biggest danger is choosing this punishment simply because the people want it COMPLETELY NEGATES LAW'S RULE. It is exactly equilvalent to a mob marching into a jail and lynching an accused murdered before trail. Politicians are counting on us to not see this equality and demand censure simply because it sounds good. Judgement by popular mandate and not by law is uncivil, dangerous, unConstitutional and, to say this explicitly against everthing for which this country should stand. Will we, citizens of the United States of American, understand this in time to prevent an utter routing of our sacred Constitution? True, Impeachment is pretty damn severe but it's a legal way to deal with the President's still alledged illegal acts. If he's proven guilty he'll be convicted, if not convicted... well, he'll fly free like O.J..
12/15/98 - Several months back someone posted with scotch tape on the green cupboard above the breakroom coffee machine an article detailing two researchers' study into dirty coffee mug germs. A jungle of trouble was their conclusion. As for my mug, while I clean it every couple days it probably would have been a good piece of data. This morning my white ceramic mug's bottom and insides were coated with a cloudy yellow brown stain haze film. You can tell where the last drops sat. For some reason the darkest stains are at the drop's edge. The center is only barely yellow. My least favorite gak is that deposited where my Chapsticked lips sip. Eeeyew... The build-up is gross enough during humid months but when my skin starts drying and I'm forced to wax the clefts closed... Ok, I won't go there. Luckily I have a white mug. Some people choose black because "then I never see the dirt". Ha! When has ignorance been a good defense? High contrast while spotlighting the grime also spotlights the grime. Spotlighted grime is more easily cleaned... which, Mom, I guess I do do every day. The lesson here is our ancestors ate awful diets and some of them lived to be over 100 years old so don't sweat the details 'cause stress kills more people than dirty coffee mugs but then some people might be stressed by dirty mugs so do whateverthehell makes you content unless it hurts someone else in which case you should seriously reconsider... not that the lesson was obvious from my soliloquy.
12/16/98 - After a trip to see my dentist I'm safely back at work... mmm, mmm that mint toothpaste makes it all worthwhile, don't you think? Well, with a cleanish coffee mug I've started to restain my teeth so next visit's scraping will be as pleasant as today's scraping. What do you do while your teeth are being mauled by a metal hook? I considered calculating the chamber's square footage by counting ceiling tiles (assuming each tile is 2 feet by 2 feet) but I got bored estimating misshapen tile's area. The radio was painful as it always is in public buildings. Actually, if you're a Richmonder the radio sucks... period. Another good way to pass time is to see if you can consciously feel time's passage. Not quite as boring as counting sheep. It seems the mint tootpaste really likes beards. Do you ever wonder how much blood you loose at the dentist? My flossing isn't the greatest so if tooth scraping doesn't release blood flossing does. I never leave the dentist without a bloody mint taste. Ok, enough of that topic. I'm trying to decide if I'd rather be at the dentist or at work. There's coffee at work, plus they're paying me so work wins hands down. Can you think of a another good, stupid question for me? Ponder. My teeth always feel loose after seeing the dentist; does that happen to you?
12/17/98 - When I was a kid I never grasped history. I mean I knew the Declaration of Independance was signed in 1776; I knew the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor in 1941; I even knew Rome was founded in 753BC. But all these events happened WAY before I was born. I figured history was like that; it happened before I was born. Right now, maybe more so than any period in the recent past, is historic. Bombs and babes (if I may, for literature's sake refer in Monica as a "babe"... actually, I don't like this; allow me to try again). Creeps and Congress. Ooo... it could also be Creeps in Congress. But that's not unique to now nor particularly historical. Creeps: Bill and that Iraqi guy. How many words do you know containing a "Q" but no "U"? I digress. Congress: Congress. Things are blowing up... there are many meanings to that phrase. See? This is an historical time; I needn't mention Impeachment. I urge you to sit back and ponder today's significance. Realize, too, the rush hour that is now is not happening around you but that you are part of it. True, you, like me, will likely never be mentioned when December 1998 is discussed in history class, but this is an amazing chance to learn something about our time, our people and our government and you never know what could happen. Do you think back when we were bombing the crap out of Baghdad last time Monica realized she'd soon be a household name?
12/18/98 - I received a bill from MCIWorldCom for $10.34. "Hmmm, what's this?" I said. Looking at the bill closely I found no indication as to the service provided only an account number looking suspiciously like my phone number from several years back. Weird. What service could I possibly have received that would justify me parting with $10.34? For $8 I bought Led Zeppelin III plus a McD's cheesburger and a Coke at $2 plus tax comes out to roughly $10.45... I have a good idea of the service level I should have received to justify my bill. This mindful I called MCIWC. After waiting in the service queue for 10 minutes (during which I was treated to hold music I couldn't hate. I tried; I really did, but it was the kind of music I make when I record music alone... simple percusion with a drolly interesting guitar part, but I digress)... Anyway 10 minutes pass while I'm on hold. I feed Emelie and trash the junk mail and hang my coat and wash a few dishes... I spend the time doing things you can do with a phone under your chin. Finally they answer and Robert, my service rep, say the bill is 2 months of monthly admin fees but my calling card is without activity. "What calling card?" I asked. Well, when MCI merged with WorldCom they reinitialized all the past numbers they could and billed the crap out of people they could find hoping to receive, I don't know, MONEY FOR NOTHING... at least that's my take. Robert was nice enough to cancel my card and waive my fees so I said "Happy Holidays", hung up the phone and cranked Led Zeppelin.
12/21/98 -
It was the week before Christmas and all through land
Everyone was shopping, especially the men.
The presents were stuffed and crammed in a box
I'm hoping when I hid them Kara didn't watch.
Well, I'm certain I could do a better job spoofing that poem with more time and and actually copy of the poem. Instead I'm working from memory sans coffee. Ok, after a short break I'm back with Joe, Coffee that is; black gold, Indonesian tea. Well the next thing you know old Lee's a thousandaire. Kin folks said "Lee, trim your facial hair." They said "California is very far from here." So I folded up my map and opened up a beer. Well, we impeached the big guy. I say we because we elected the people pulling voting in our name. We are the American people (unless of course you're reading this from somewhere else. NPR had a story on the French reaction. How do I feel about that? I'm slightly offended at hearing a French woman sermonize to me. I'm slightly upset the strike on Iraq is being labelled at best a moderate success. The as I perceive it crumbles. Bummer.
12/22/98 - Last night was Christmas night for me. I statred sewing Kara's stocking... Ha! Mom, I told you I would, could and can do it! Not that I'm finished. Basically I just connect a few pieces of felt with brown thread. I have much more sewing to do. My next Christmas task was wrapping Kara's presents. As Kara bought and wrapped everything else all I had to do was shop for her. I accumulated stuff here at work then sneaked it into the house last night and wrapped it before she could find my not-so-great hiding place. When she went to bed I got to work sticking dog hair to tape... at least that's what it felt like I was doing. In fact, Emelie, evidence would suggest, unrolled the tape, rolled in it, and rerolled it. Every piece seemed prepacked with black doggy hair. In some cases I had to double and tripple tape joints because the tape's strength was seriously sapped by doggy hair accumulation. But I finished my task in a grueling hour of, quite literally, back breaking labor. Sore, exhausted and tired of things Christmasy, I crawled into bed a little after 10pm and dreamt. of all weird things, I was in the Beatles. We filmed a video in an indoor swimming pool, which... even more strangely, was the first indoor swimming pool in recent dream history to NOT contain vicious sharks.
12/23/98 - Ok, last work day before Christmas and I'm overwhelmed with things to do. I'm also overwhelmed by the Eggnog coffee brewing behind me which, in spite of its strong scent, is actually pretty good. Plans: Well, I still hace a stocking to sew. I still have some presents to procure and cover in dog hair and paper. I also have some writing and form filling and other random tasks. Church tomorrow night... in the freezing rain. Hey, would you like to read Etch-A-Sketch directions... no kidding here. "Turn right knob to draw up or down. Turn Left knob to draw left or right. Turn both knobs together for angles and curves. Shake to erase." Shouldn't all toys be that simple? Heck, my Yo Yo came without directions... I can't think why they'd be needed. For $1.50 I can order a trick book. I wonder if there are Yo Yo trick sites on the Web. If anyone sees one please tell me. Well, as it is the last time I'll write before Christmas I shall end with a seasonal thought. Be good. Be nice. Remember that you alone do not inhabit this planet. Hug someone. Smile if possible. Think good thoughts.
I found a Yo Yo Trick Site!
12/29/98 - You know how sometimes the world shoves you, alone in an uncomfortable place then shines bright lights on you and makes you feel like you're suffering for no reason? Well, I decided I'm not unique in this manner; It's not a global conspiracy; Things will get better and, darn it, who the heck cares?! That's right! So what if the last 12 hours have been complete hell. One tragic problem following another. I'm basically a happy. It takes much more than stress and frustration to bring me down. Yeah, I weaken and break occasionally but who doesn't? So I yelled at my parents... Ok, that's a big deal and I'm sorry. But I'm better now. I had power for all but 4 hours this past storm; That's better than great. My family is awesome... that's better than great. There's no arsenic in my drinking water (like there is in Bangladesh, I hear)... can't beat that. 3 bags of coffee beans sit behind me. My job still pays my bills (barely... but ends meet). See great, great stuff happening. No complaints. Perspective. One more journal entry finished.
12/30/98 - See, the problem I have with lists is once I write the list I forget to check it. Basically it just increases the work I put into absent mindedness. Ok, I'm going to take a break and make some coffee. nd I'm back. I have this friend who loves his job; His enthusiam is both heartening and annoying. I guess a real zeal for work is like the Holy Grail... mythical? Seriously, how many people find jobs they like and how many settle for jobs they have? The balance slants almost vertical in the latter's favor. But the Coffee's done so I'll break again to pour a mug. And while I was pouring the mug Ray came in with 2 breakfast pizzas and a roll of paper towels... I shall jaunt down the hall for a nice fattening slice. I ran last night so I can afford it. Eating fat and running to burn excess weight is like spending while saving to get out of debt. And in the wild world of office Yo-yo fun. Mitch's fireball is missing and my Butterfly is sleeping but still loosing too much umph to friction. I need to upgrade to a free axel slinger.
12/31/98 - Despite the special status this day possesses the weather sucks. I know I'm an adult now that I hate snow. I can't believe I just wrote that sentence. But driving in this mess is crappy. I was going 15 mph down a winding hill following well behind the car before me. Suddenly I see him in the oncoming lane. "Why are they going over there? There's no reason to take this turn so wide..." As the words ran through my mind my car suddenly and to my great displeasure drifted through the oncoming lane and onto the shoulder DANGEROUSLY close to the woods. I managed to put myself back where I belonged but my car never crossed the 5 mph mark for the next half mile to my office. I think I'll walk home. The forecast calls for sun this afternoon. If the roads improve I'll drive but as it stands now... actually, as it coats the roads now I'll walk. If I tumble I can just get up. I don't want to dent my car on the last day of 1998. Happy New Year... My Little Zen Calendar says "There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the infinite passion of life." Yours, mine, those with us, those before us and those to come.