The face of a coffee addict.
11/1/95 - I wore a suit to work yesterday. This was the first time I've ever done that (and I've been a working man for over 3 years now (Yipe!!)). Most people got the joke, but to help and amuse I put together the following Letterman style top ten list.
From the Jepson Office, G15...
Number 3 is a U of R joke; Mr Robins was of the A.H. Robins family and he gave,
well, large sums of money to the University. Anyway, there is a picture
of him on the UR phone book in a grey suit with the same tie I wore (He
looked more distinguished though).
11/2/95 - Today marks the 3rd anniversary of the darkest period of my life... The Northern Virginia Years. This is not going to be fun so I'm going to stop right here and write something fun. Coffee schmoffee Doffee Do I can rhyme without thinking too. That was just plain stupid. How about if I wrote about... about... Damn! This sucks! I can't think of anything to say. How boring am I? Does anyone read this? Here, I'll make it easy for you; Write to me. I dare you. I double dare you. I double DOG dare you. Tell me something fun; relieve this hideous boredom. The address is: lparker@sonic.urich.edu. Maybe I'll be better tomorrow.
11/3/95 - Yesterday I bet my friend Alison that I could go one year (from 9:00am Nov 2) without having a soda. So far I believe only one person has shown any confidence in me (Anne-Britton, Thanks). I'll show them all. I'm great at stupid tests of will. I've done this before (when I was in high school, and even more stupid than I am now, but that's beside the point). When I complete my soda-free year I receive tickets to the concert of my choice and dinner anywhere I choose. What possible motivation could I have to cave and consume soda with prizes like these? None. See you guys at Pearl Jam next year. Can anyone recommend something good at the Tobacco Company?
11/6/95 - Here I am, yet again, unprepared on a monday morning. Perhaps my lack of inspiration this morning can be attributed to the cold. It's very cold. I tried something stupid this morning; My windshield needed scraping so I turned on the washer fluid sprayer. Here is another equation for those of you (like me) who like it when life presents itself in predictable little bundles: Frosty Windshield + Washer Fluid = Slushy Windshield. I suppose any idiot who's ever poured beer into a frosty mug should have seen this one coming, but I'm allergic to something in beer and they don't serve tequila in icy mugs, so I had to live it in real time this morning. I made it to work despite myself and, in a similar situation, I finished my entry for today.
11/7/95 - My sister took me to dinner and a movie last night (she owed me and this was acceptable payment); We saw Get Shorty. This movie (as predicted by another friend) strengthens my view that mini vans are ideal vehicles. If Aristotle had used cars instead of chairs when he was thinking about his perfect world (or whatever it was he thought about) he would have seen mini vans there. These things are perfect for hauling stuff and people at the same time. They have a spare tire well in which to spill Downy fabric softener so your vehicle always smells pleasing. You could carry a keg between the two front seats so everyone (but the driver of course, and I'm allergic to beer anyway) can drink. And (here's the kicker) when nature calls, people can get to the sliding side door without crawling all over each other. Plus, if you like to walk around on your knees, you don't have to bend over as you move around (and if your less that 4 feet tall you don't even have to be on your knees if you don't want to). As you can see, I like mini vans for reasons that should be obvious to everyone. I'll stop writing after I say one more thing. Go see the movie; it's funny. Or was it Plato?
11/8/95 - As usual my oneness with indecision is keeping me from a worthwhile topic. Actually, that's not true in the least. Were I indecisive there would be several things on my mind none of which affected me any more or less than anyother thus leading to an inability on my part to choose one to write about. Random Comment: I've got Soooouull! And I'm Super Bad! Would you believe even my random comment was unoriginal. Of course you would; because you know from whence it came... The mouth and mind of that silver tongued Monster of Music; Non other than the one and only Godfather of Soul James "Funky Chicken, Finger Lickin' Good" Brown. And I'm not done yet. No, I'm on a roll; I could write for ever. There is Funk on my radio! Thank God for WDCE (90.1 if you're in Richmond's West End, otherwise, forget it). Hey, what? ... Shut Up?! You can't talk to me like that! Why... I'll... ...
11/9/95 - Yesterday's journal was stupid. In an effort to improve your reading material I was going to describe my office; I'd even started writing. The ability I have to make even mundane things sound stupid is incredible. I'm getting down on myself; shall we keep it up? Sure. Do you want to know how absent minded I am? Good. I forgot to vote on Tuesday. This is the first election I have ever missed. I even had a plan; I was going to go home, run and then walk 200 feet to the firestation where I should've voted. It was rainy and dark when I got home so I decided running was a bad idea (unsafe and all). At this point I even walked around my house bored. What a lout I am. Well, I feel a slight degree better than I did several minutes ago. On a completely different note: 7:24 am on Thursday November Ninth (1995, I'm not spelling that out), My back hurts and I'm hungry. Oh, Hey! Hi to all my friends and even to people I don't know (as if you're reading this). Write me! Right below these words is my email address; if you click on it (and your browser is set up) you can write me a quick note (Say "Hi Lee, You can't write for squat and you bore me." That's fine; Just say something). Bye. (Editor's Note: The sentence about clicking on the address will not be true after 11/9.)
11/10/95 - Okay, I have a confession to make. It's actually still November 9th, and I'm sitting in my closet. Yes, I find this both interesting and funny. How many people do you know that have a dumb terminal and a 2400 baud modem in their closet? I, for one, no of no one, besides me, with this set up. Now, before you brand me a complete freak (which, after all, you are still free to do), let me say my closet is huge; My college dorm room (Gilliam 417 at Washington and Lee University) wasn't even this big. And like my dorm room, my closet has both a sink and a window. Unlike my dorm room, though, my closet has a door to the bathroom (I suppose, in fairness to my dorm room, I should mention that this door lacks a working knob and is therefore permanently "locked" shut). "Lee", you're saying, "you're a freak with decade old technology comparing, of all things, your closet with the tiny room you spent your freshman year in college living in; What is your problem?!" Well, I got you to read my writing, and for once this week, it's actually somewhat unusual. See you next week. Hey, I bought hiking boots today!
11/13/95 - Snow! Snow! Snow! I heard the word SNOW in the weather forecast; true, the guy said "slight chance", but slight = some. I still can't get over that childhood desire to see the ground (and everything above it) covered in snow. I realize that snow means a crappy drive to work and really long waits in the grocery store and wet crap all over the floor of the house and cold feet and a runny nose and maybe I'm not looking forward to it as much as I thought. But you know what? I still am looking forward to it. Snow is one way Nature writes poetry. The sound of the snow falling is completely unique. The way lights play across the snow at night is on par with any laser show I've ever seen (and much less "rouge nape", if you catch my drift). And the ice in the trees; Can you beat a good Virginia ice storm for fantastic beauty? Well, I was going to write about my weekend, but I was distracted by the weather; Perhaps tomorrow.
11/14/95 - It didn't snow in Richmond; at least I didn't see any. Regardless, I'm writing about my weekend, because I had fun. Background: I have friends; the specific ones involved in this story are Kevin, Anne-Britton and her husband Tom. We set off early (8:30) on saturday to climb Old Rag, a moutain 30 miles north of Charlottesville, VA. The forecast was rain and the forecasters were not wrong. It started raining when we got to C'ville and kept raining until after I went to bed. We started up the mounatin but turned around 50 minutes into the hike because I thought it was too wet to go on. We walked down the mountain, got in the car and drove to the Barboursville Vineyard. 13 bottles of wine were tasted. Several bottles of wine were purchased. Much fun was had; more fun than 25 words would indicate. We got back to Richmond and ate, drank and were merry in a very adult way. I went to bed at 10:00. I got up at 6:00; Kevin and I were scheduled to run a race. He came over at 7:00 and we drove to Byrd Park. The gun went off at 8:00. I finished at 8:36:22 and Kevin wasn't far behind at 8:52:16. Shocking. Well, those are the facts with very little embellishing. For the rest of sunday I hung out.
11/15/95 - Here we are, the ides of November. Not nearly as much potential as the ides of march. You're not likely to be murdered because of that darned anbitious streak, but a cold is not out of the question. Speaking of ambition, hats off to the Washington and Lee Men's Cross Country Team, winners of the Division 3 Southeast Regional Meet. This would make them the fastest team in the southeast corner of the country. Did I mention I used to be on this team? Not that anyone on the team now was there when I was a student. I know a few of the guys. In fact, I'd consider a couple of them friends. But, although it's important to have friends, my message is that these guys have accomplished one hell of a task and for that I applaud them and am proud to be associated with people who know how to mix talent and hard work properly. Does that sound too dopey?
11/16/95 - Yesterday I promised a friend of mine that I'd write about her on my Journal Page. Since the only time I break promises is when I forget about them (and I obviously haven't forgotten), here goes. I declare this page dedicated to Natolyn Quash and her partner in crime Mary Barnett. I work with these people and, since saying anything bad about them would get me killed, they are two of the nicest, most pleasant people I have ever met. They both take their jobs very seriously and therefore can sometimes be testy (or maybe that's just a reaction to me) when things don't work right (I have been intentionally vague because "things" usually involve me, at least when I see them testy, I'm usually involved). Actually, I don't know if I've ever seen Mary upset. And did I mention that Natolyn has one of the most poetic names I've ever heard? Well, that should be enough to get me off the hook (or, perhaps, more firmly attached to the hook; I don't know).
11/17/95 - My band has a Home Page. Each member was supposed to write
a little bit about themselves for people (like you) to read. Andy just wrote
his last night. I think it's really funny; what do you think?
Andy's Band Bit
11/20/95 - Last friday's entry wasn't really about me. And what is the name of this page? Whose picture is on it? Mine! Right! If I wasn't so boring that might be funny. I had an idea for my band while I was removing the ice from my car. What if we called a local radio station and asked them to sponser our show. We have a show on Dec 22nd at Richmond's own Sunset Grill (the inside part); What if we said to a station "Look, pick a charity and we'll split the door with it. All you have to do is talk about the show constantly on the air. What a great Christmas idea.". The band wins, the charity wins, and so does the station. What a great idea. Right?
11/21/95 - I'm listening to a radio station make fun of the Beatles. Last night I read shorties by my favorite author. A friend, who I have not seen in years, is in town this week and I don't know how to react. I think all cars should drive around with their headlights on all day. Coffee smells good, so does hot apple juice. I can't find a food that is both good for you and too good to put down. I wish it were light when I got home so I wouldn't have to run in the dark every night. My keyboard makes a cool sound as I type along. I have a hard time realizing that history was played out by real people that thought and breathed and felt and not people like Rhett Butler. Mathematics makes me excited and then depressed when I don't get it. I know I don't reason as well as I want to. I know that writing songs is hard. I like to think about things that are impossible and think maybe we're just thinking about them in the wrong way. I think violence is natural, but so is throwing up and they both suck. I thought all these thoughts just now.
11/22/95 - It's the day before Thanksgiving and all through the house... Sorry, wrong holiday. Let's see what's happened to me today so far this morning . I left the house as usual, but I caught the attention of the traffic cop at Saint Catherine's and made her smile by just waving. I got to work and was scared silly by my friend Brian who just tapped on my window (I was way into Adam Sandler's Thanksgiving Song and didn't see him coming). Then I got into the office and traded Beatle's tunes with the big boss, Bill King (my officemate's son left his guitar in our office because the dorms are locked and he didn't want to haul into DC and back...). Bill is quite good. Hopefully we can play in tandem some time soon. Well, it's 8:15 and I usually have this done by 7:45, so I'm going to wrap up my last entry before the long, entry free holiday by wishing anyone who is reading this a most excellent and safe Thanksgiving.
11/27/95 - I'm back after a boring but somehow still short holiday. I did some fun stuff, but sometimes I was bored. I don't want to think about the meaning of all this. I did wash a bunch of sheets on saturday. They came out of the dryer wrinkly. How come Mom could wash and fold sheets perfectly and I turn them into fabric Wonton noodles with boxer short filling? My edges never match no matter how much time I spend and they don't stack well in the drawer. The ones that have been in the drawer for a year haven't settled either. Mom always made them look like they'd just been taken out of the package complete with fold lines. Mine are just a mess. I'm depressed.
11/28/95 - I dreamt I played on a championship soccer team and our team mode of transportation was my friend Scott's MG. We all fit. I'm sure there was more to this, but I can't make it sound good. My tie is really long (like this is a better thing to talk about); It's so long that both ends hang down lower than my belt. That was stupid. I skipped coffee this morning and fixed hot tea instead. Earl Grey, Hot. It's quite good; I just had a sip. It's also quite hot; The sip just burned my tongue. I had to turn the radio off, Don Henley was on. Half his crap is just that... Crap. Jimi Hendrix is on now; Ahhhh. I think I'll cut my hair off or maybe not; This requires more thought (like proper thought is a prerequisite when I do anything).
11/29/95 - Let's start with a literary reference: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is Lee and Dentist in Richmond with more gambling. The segments in my life that connect specific actions are getting longer; it's been 20 months since I've seen Dr Chuck, perhaps the longest period without dental influence in my lengthening life. The fear is massive and the loathing is me deprecating myself. Why do I go so long? I know my mouth will need more remodeling than the 90 year old haunted house in which I live, but I wait to put myself through the anguish of fingers and tools moving around in the space I reserve for tongue, pizza, coffee and an occasional martini. Or is it that I don't have Mom to set the appointments anymore? Do you think I could hire her to take care of these things for me?
11/30/95 - Trapped in my car, I stared around the parking lot confused. I was on my feet; My feet were on the ground, but some unknown force held me fast. I was unable to move more than a couple of inches from the open door. There was no one there to see my struggle and... laugh?! Geez Oh Flip! I can't believe I'd be so silly to zip my jacket after I'd sat down in the driver's seat. The seat belt, which is permanently fastened to the car, is now warm and comfy, zipped tightly inside my jacket with the rest of me. Please tell me no one saw my pathetic struggle! How completely embarrassing. I know no one will find out if I write about it here on this page; no one reads this crap! Right?