I'm getting dizzy up here.
1/3/96 - Happy New Year and welcome to wherever you are. I've been on vacation in Atlanta for the past several days. I wish I could say I was happy to be back. I had fun; I saw three of my best friends (none of whom I see nearly enough). I saw couple more friends. I met some new people. I found out that Atlanta, while a nice enough place, is just too darned big for me; It sprawls forever. Although driving through it was not as bad as I would have thought for a city that size (not that I did any of the driving). I've missed two work days for this trip and I expected something exciting upon my return. The best thing I got was a canned message from the University telling me not to be alarmed at the big booming noises used to scare away the birds that are messing up my car's flawless paint job.
1/4/96 - I have several New Years resolutions; so far I've broken none. First, I'm going to eat out less. I usually eat every meal out, lunch and dinner. This year I will probably continue to eat lunch out, but I'm going to make dinner more often. Second, I'm going to be more organized with my life. I have always been a wreck, perhaps I can be less of a wreck by keeping a planner up to date with my commitments. Third, I will not live like a pig. My room and my house are wrecks (just like I am). My new philosophy is any step toward cleanliness is better than nothing (nothing being my old philosophy). I have a friend that resolved to be honest with herself; I think I'll try this too. I'm off to conquor the world. See you there.
1/5/96 - Consuming half a pot of thick coffee on an empty stomach is akin to administering pure oxygen to a camp fire... and it's one heck of a way to wake one's self up. My stomach burns with irritation, but that too is comfy on this cold morning when I have to stand in the icy wind and satisfy my car's gas gauge at the slowest pump on the face of the planet. I'm using far too many prepositional phrases this morning. Time is slipping quickly past me; It's 8:15 and I'm still not done with my morning's writing task (i.e. this). I've had to do a little work and my journal takes a back seat to that. I started my coffee about an hour ago; I need more, but I don't want the crap from the break room maker. There is about a 2 degree temperature range within which work coffee is not either too hot or too cold (and extremely terrible). Well, I've some email to read... I saw one from my friend Stu and another from Dr. Will (my friend, too). I'm outta here...
1/10/96 - Sorry it's been so long. I got snowed in (as did most people in Richmond). In fact, the only reason I'm at work is because I could walk. My car is buried over axle deep in the parking lot that abuts my house. If the owners of the lot decide to plow, I'm probably in even worse shape. Assuming they don't have me towed, I'll be burried axle deep and stuck behind a wall of ice. I tried to move the thing yesterday and got a whole car length out of the space before I became stuck and had to spend several minutes rocking the car before it got enough traction to slip back into place. This whole incident has taught me that snow and southerners just don't mix well (at least not without bourbon and a lack of anywhere to go).
1/11/96 - As if things couldn't get worse for this frail southern boy, more snow is in the forecast. Actually, I like it quite a bit. True, I haven't wrecked a car in it or had to shovel a drive way or had my roof cave in, but my roommmates and I are out of oil. Yes, I awoke to a 51 degree room and that was warm compared to the rest of the house. (Note to all the science folks reading this: the units on that temperature figure are fahrenheit degrees; 51 Celsius is pretty hot). Well, things have gotten worse; the oil company says they can't get us more until next wednesday. I can't imagine that the snow will make things better. I heard on the radio that it's 21 (guess what temperature units with which I'm dealing) outside. This should be fun.
1/12/96 - After spending 30 minutes to move my car the mile to work I find out that the University is shut down; crap. The coffee is swill here, but it's free. I see my grocery receipt here on my desk; I spent $4.39 on .55lb of coffee. I wanted Hazelnut, but I got Irish Cream. The lesson here is buy the good stuff before snow is forecast. I frequent a small local market near my house. I like the atmosphere. How many grocery stores have check out folks that ask you if you have enough toliet paper to make it through a storm? I'm going to get another cup of coffee... I'm back. I think I'll end today's entry by providing some closure to yesterday's tale of oil woe. Woodfin Oil came through and delivered 1/2 a tank by noon. Things didn't heat up. I found out the pilot light had gone out and relit it. When I got home the house was a uniform 46 degrees (F). I had to relight the pilot again. I left for the evening after instructing Andy on the joys of a crappy pilot light. After hours of frustration and fumes, Andy called the oil company who had someone over in an hour to service the furnace. When I arrived home (very late) the house was as warm as it's ever been.
1/15/96 - I had a good weekend in spite of injuring myself twice. Here's the story: Saturday some of my friends and I went sledding at the Country Club of Virginia. Aleksei spotted a jump slope so we went to check it out. He went first. When he got back to the top (after wrecking) I went. He gave me a smoking push and I flew down the hill. As I approached the jumps I found they were two, foot high bumps about 6 feet apart. I jumped the first one and bounced once at the foot of the second before launching myself feet first into the sky. The sled went off to the right and I hung gracelessly in the air for what seemed like a long time before I crashed on my back, rolled over my right arm and somehow ended up on my feet. Ow. Yesterday I went running around campus and ended up traversing sections of path where no one has gone since it snowed. The snow is crusted with ice and about a foot deep. I ran in shorts. When I got home a looked down at my legs and about a foot up from the soles of my feet my shins were shredded. I guess the ice I ran through just cut them up. Grody. I didn't feel a thing. Those are the short versions of my cool injury stories; I'm very proud of the events described.
1/16/96 - Last night, I'm sure, I had a great idea for a topic today. Of course last night I sat around the camp fire (well, a few candles) drinking with my buddies. I don't endorse this behavior, but I can't deny that it happens therefore I'm documenting it. In related news, Time magazine reported that a couple (two) drinks a day for men is good for healthy circulation. Reader's Digest, however, says drinking is related to impotence in men. In both cases I hope I'll just get to take their word. I know drinking is not the best thing for a person; This I know not because someone has told me, but simply from observation. When I drink I am different. I can't explain it better than this; I figure this is what psychiatrists would call a right-brained understanding. Oh well, those are my thoughts for this morning... enjoy(?).
1/17/96 - Doctor's appointment at 2pm for me today. I promised my mother I'd get a check up and I try my best (within the parameters of an absent mind) to uphold my word. I'm in pretty good shape although I have only run three times in the past week and a half. I just don't think it safe to be cruising the roads after dark with all this snow and ice; there is no where to jump (like the sidewalk) to avoid cars. Anyway, hopefully the doctor will say I'm alright. I'll get him to check out the scrapes, cuts and bruises I told you about a few days ago. I also might have an ingrown toenail. This is getting gross. My coffee rocks this morning; I think I'll ask him if there is anything wrong with drinking so much caffeine. Well, that is pretty much my half formed doctor plan. No conclusion today.
1/18/96 - Hola. I'm back from the doctor and the worse related thing to report is Pseudo Feliculitus Barberus (or something like that). Basically, my face was not made to be shaved and where I do shave becomes irritated. The doctor (his name is Bud Wedd, George Weddd in the phone book, is cool; if you don't have a doctor and you are in the Richmond area, I recommend him) called it PFB; he told me the real name when I asked, but I should have gotten him to spell it too. PFB reminds me of PFD, a Boy Scout (at least that's the context in which I know it) abbreviation for Personal Floation Device. I have a friend who the folks I grew up with sometimes refer to as BKB; this stands for Burger King [bad word]. I have no recollection how she got that moniker. Pretty much every airport of which I can think has a three letter tag. I guess long names are just too complex for people to deal with on a regular basis.
1/19/96 - I've Blind Melon on the CD player now. '2 x 4' is the song. I just got back from apartment shopping. I found one I like on W. Franklin St., right near the Maury monument on Monument Ave. One bed room; one big room; one smallish kitchen; one bathroom; one closet; one cool back porch; three doors; secured windows; I dig it. That has nothing to do with Blind Melon. In fact, neither does this: I've had 40 ounces of coffee on an empty stomach and am slightly wired. I feel like dancing; this is probably not behavior suitable for the office, therefore I'll refrain. Speaking of refrains, the refrain of 'Vernie' just finished (the song has changed since I began writing). New song now, too. This one is somewhat acoustic and pleasant in a campy way. Just like I dug the apartment this morning, I dig this Blind Melon album; too bad Mr. Hoon drugged himself to death. Kids, stay off drugs; they've taken too much talent from us. Kazoo solos rule.
1/22/96 - Here we go. One week left to find a place to live and move; can Lee do it? Lee is very worried. Lee's parents are of little help, but do do a swell job of making him nervous. Lee knows he's a lazy irresponsible bum, but doesn't need his father to jokingly point it out. Lee also knows if push comes to shove, his parents would bail him out; he doesn't want that. Lee looked at bunches of places on saturday, but saw nothing great so he did nothing. Lee spent sunday in northern Virginia playing music with his band (they rock, by the way) but did drive around some sunday evening and saw some places way out in the west end boonies. Lee should get to work now.
1/23/96 - I'm in need of something pleasant to take the edge off of this "no place to live" stress animal that's slowly consuming me bite by bite. My favorite pleasant images are butterflies, clouds, flowers and any combination of these things in springtime dreams. The reason I can make this statement is, well, I know how to write the words (but's that's not what I meant to say). The reason I make this statement (this time, notice the appropriate absence of the word "can") is that these images constantly pop up in the words I write. Seemingly without contextual similarity certain images appear in my verbalization of thoughts. You know, maybe it's just that I lack the originality to create a new set of images for myself. That's not too pleasant a thought, but then I don't feel well today, so it suits. Why does time appear to slow when vast uncertainty lies in the immediate future?
1/24/96 - Relief at last; there is rain for the parched ground that is my soul. Pending a credit check (which, given my history of irresponsibility, is not a given) I have a place to live and am happy. Contingency plan for the failed credit check scenerio has not been made. Actually "Hi Mom. Hi Dad." is about the only option I have left unexplored; and I'll probably be doing some rapid Lewis and Clark this evening looking for that unknown option before I resign to a sentence in my parent's house. They'd probably hate it as much as I would. Actually, no; Mom would dig having her little boy around and Dad, while not liking it at all, would get a charge out of the constant ribbing he could inflict upon me for the rest of my life. So, please, pray for my credit check.
1/25/96 - I've been up since 6am. I've eaten breakfast (grits and coffee) with Dave Matthews (well, a tape of him). I've done laundry. I'm on my second pot of coffee (shocking). I'm surprised at how quiet everything seems in the morning when I'm awake enough to notice; I like it... bunches. I've been listening to music since about 5 minutes after I got up. I stole a lyrical idea from Eddie Vedder (I think, I actually couldn't understand him) and mixed it with some of the stuff I've learned in 25 days of the Little Zen Calendar. How does this sound? "My life is a shell in which I bounce." It doesn't flow all that well solo like that; perhaps I'll add some stuff to it. I really want a doughnut... several, actually. Sugar would be supreme goodness at this moment in my history. I should have capitalized "Supreme Goodness"; it looks better that way. Hasta Luigi.
1/26/96 - Month's end is approaching rapidly. What this means to me right now is that I'll have to flip my calendar in a few days. Tomorrow I move to my first solo dwelling. I lived a summer alone in college. It was ok; I lived at school in the house I would later share with 3 other guys. There were plenty of other students in town, so life was good. I sponged off of Mom and Dad for food and rent, but didn't have to talk with them everyday because they were 120 miles away. How cool was the complete lack of responsibility that was the (unknown at the time) theme of my college years? All I had to do was make decent grades. There has to be a good comparison between collegiate and communist life styles: dirty living conditions, bad/cheap food, lots of drinking, some stuff is paid for by a higher power, but college ends in 4 (or so) years and you learn something.
1/29/96 - My first commute from my new apartment in the far west end was not horrible. It took about 25 minutes, as long as I used to commute to my job in Northern Virginia. And, like the Northern Virginia commute, the only bummer are stop lights, traffic just isn't that bad. I need to go out at lunch and find some liquid soap for the kitchen. People came over to watch the Super Bowl. We had cold pizza and chips and dip. I still haven't hooked up the iron, so I wore the brown sweater vest my sister gave me for Christmas to cover all the unironed spots. Speaking of my sister, I found out that both of us unplug appliances after we use them. I do it because Mom does and if anything ever happened when I didn't unplug something, I'd have to hear, for the rest of my life, my Mom's lecture on the importance of unplugging appliances... once was enough. Sorry about the nonsensical subject jumping.
1/30/96 - Today's topic is "Hurray for Jenni Sauer". Yesterday I wasn't very happy with my commute, today I had fun. Well, maybe fun isn't the word, but it wasn't bad. I smiled the whole way and I have Jenni to thank for suggesting the Yellow Brick Rd (okay, River Rd). It was smooth; It was easy; There were only 5 (that I can count now) stoplights; Yee Ha! Less than 20 minutes and I really didn't speed. Now for point number 2: I tried to find the neighborhood where she said there were roads that went somewhere. I certainly didn't see a road going anywhere but quickly to a dead end. I ran down at least 10 cul de sacs, each full of huge houses with yards stripped barren of trees (except for the one "Grandpa of Charlie Brown's Christmas Tree" (a really tall pine with about three scraggily branches)). Few of the houses had lights on inside and fewer still had outside lighting, consequently I stepped into 500 or so piles of muddy crap on the side of the street. Overall my run was not a pleasant experience. How many spell faux pas today?
1/31/96 - Today is the last day of my lease on Maple Ave.; I can't begin to describe how much I will miss that place, but at the same time, I can't describe my hatred and frustration either. What a waste of potential that old house is. Andy and I agreed last night that, to make it livable, you'd have to tear it down and start over, but what a place that would be! It hurts to think about it. I was tired when I left at 10pm (after a fun filled evening of cleaning) and noticed, as I drove home, I kept finding myself driving slower than the speed limit. This has happened to me before when I've been tired. I wonder if there is any scientific value in studying the correlation between fatigue and driving speed. Of course there is! The quest for knowledge is unhindered by the mundane.