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11/1/96 - New month and all, right? Today is my friend Will's last day here. To celebrate we're going guitar shopping at lunch. I have enough guitars for now, but he needs a new amp. Will is doing something I lack the guts to do. He's moving to Vail, CO and working in a restaurant for ski season. Actually, the work part doesn't sound fun at all. "Boy, clean the bathroom then it's time to change the fry oil." Nope, not for me. I wouldn't guess the pay is great either, but there are mountains up which to run. I'd get some cleated running shoes and race right up the snow covered peaks. Damn the lifts; Lifts are for sucks (no, wait! That's "Straws are for Sucks", but that's Andy's Dad's joke). Once at the top I'd slide down on my butt. I used to do that when in college. The mountains weren't as tall, but on a steep slope (while wearing rain pants) I'd put my feet out in front (to act as a tree bumper) and butt down, quite speedily. The real danger were the low hanging evergreens; the trunk was further from the outer branches than my face was from my feet. I'd taste pine from hours (pine smells good, but tastes crappy). I never sledded on dinning hall trays, but I did use a punch bowl and a lasagna dish. The punch bowl was metal and the dents never came out.
11/4/96 - I watched the X Files last night. I sort of drifted in and out of sleep throughout the show. I guess it's because of this that I was affected. I also have a "thing" for Civil War stories and death. The story Melissa told... being in the bunker and hearing the bodies thump on the ground. And the line: "The tint of your eyes may have changed, but it doesn't hide the color of your soul." My family has ancestors who fought for the South. A doctor's portrait hangs over the piano on which a bible sits. Hand written in the bible is a message from the doctor to his wife. It is, perhaps, the most couragous collection of words I've ever read. I can't quote it exactly; he professes his love for his wife but is willing to give up both this love and his life for his homeland. Many people see this view as misguided. I can't judge him through my eyes in my time. Anyway, this no longer has much to do with the X Files. The doctor is my great great grandfather. He survived. I'm still thinking about that show. Fox was crushed at the end. His universal soulmate was killed and, in this life, he'll never see her again. Sad. Weird dreams followed.
11/5/96 - Election Day. I voted. The darned sticker they gave me won't adhere; I used Scotch Tape to secure it to my pocket. Ok, I'm struggling with thoughts of political elitism. My country's leader is an important person. Do I want this person chosen by everyone? Do I want hordes of mindless Montel fans choosing the president? Do I want people to vote for Jack Kennedy simply because he looks better than Tricky Dick Nixon? I'm depressed by my answer: "No". I want people to think about what the president does. I want people to think about proposed amendments to the state's constitution; This point seems particularly thorny this morning. The state's constitution should, in theory, be sound enough to guide government without needing a fresh set of views injected each and every election. Here is the thought rattling around in my head: Prove you can reason; prove you can comprehend facts and draw conclusions; earn the right to vote not be being born in this country but by demonstrating an aptitude. Political views shouldn't be a part of this. That my views differ from yours is great; the election will tell what views are the most prevalent. For everyone's sake, though, have real views based on something you think is important. What really sucks is: I'm not sure if I pass my own test. Now I'm thinking more... what abilities define an "aptitude"? Beats me; Damn, this is difficult. See, maybe I'm not as smart as I thought.
11/6/96 - Yesterday was Election Day. In a highly symbolic gesture I became ill. I had a headache so bad I was sick to my stomach. I left work right after lunch. I went home, plopped on the couch, fired up the stereo, listened to music for 8 hours straight while reading Time magazine and sleeping. Then I went to bed. At some point in time (I was listening to Maria McKee's "You've Got to Sin to Be Saved" disc; don't know what the clock time was) I made my favorite sick meal... Green Jello. I didn't watch it closely enough and it boiled over. Green gak all over the stove. Burning green jello smells like roasted marshmellows; It also binds, with superjello strength, to the burner. I left the mess to cool down (as cleaning it from on and around a burner hot enough to send jello into a plasma state is probably not a smart undertaking for a sick man). I really am at a loss... am I going anywhere with this narrative? I see no point. I guess I'll wrap it up. About an album later (during Toad the Wet Sprokect's most recent album) I ate the jello (all 4 1/2 cups worth... the box should have made 4 cups, but, somehow, I made extra... even with spillage). Then I took apart the stove and removed gooey green gak from many a slick hiding place. I did find that fingernails scrapped across a burner, while lacking the auditory qualities, is just as effective a willy generator as fingernails across a blackboard. And on that note I end today's piece. P.S. We have an electric stove.
11/7/96 - Did you notice that both 11 and 7 are prime numbers? I did. 96 is not; 96's prime factors are 2, 2, 2, 2, 2 and 3... not very exciting. July 11th, 1996 has the same prime factors as today does... not very interesting. I could find other days with similar factors, but that would be boring. Let's talk about poor grammar in advertising. I heard a Subway ad; The script read "Our people will make it for you fast." This, of course, implies the sandwich will move quickly. Why is poor grammar like this used in a radio ad? Will proper grammar confuse me? No. How hard would it have been to say "Our people will make it quickly for you." Maybe I split an infinitive or something; I never caught onto split infinitives and my spelling sucks but I like adverbs. My name is Lee; 90% of adverbs contain my name. Learn them; use them; say my name; make me happy. Also, don't say "Me and Jim are going to fetch some corn squeezin's." Corn squeezin's are drunken only in yonder backwoods and there ain't no place for them things in hi-fa-lootin society, ain't that right Bobby Lee?
11/8/96 - Today didn't start in the greatest way for me. Let me qualify my rant by saying... If this is as bad as things get I'm damn lucky. I got dressed this morning; The last thing I put on is my favorite pair of Bucks. The lace on my left shoe broke. I have no replacement laces. My backup shoes are black. I had to change my blue socks to black (blue socks and black shoes... not!). I had to change my brown belt to black (and it's not like this black belt means I can woop ass). There's my sob story... pitiful, isn't it? Plus the wind messed up my hair (anyone who's seen me recently knows this is a joke). Ok, I was running last night. It was dark... so dark I couldn't see the road. I stepped on something squishy... I had the willies for the next half mile. All I could think was: Was that a squashed squirrel on which I just stepped? Yuk. I had the idea that will turn me into a millionaire: Post It Napkins. I ate lunch on a patio yesterday; My napkin kept blowing from my lap. If I could stick it to my pants... the wind wouldn't be a problem. Am I a genius or what?
11/11/96 - About what shall I write this morning? My hands are dry and cracking and cut. But that's about as exciting as... something really boring. I saw many a friend this weekend. I played music. I goofed off. I found out I'm the only person on this planet that can shower in my bathroom without getting a drop of water on the bathmat (until, of course I step on it). That sentence probably holds no meaning for you... let's keep it that way. I'm waiting for my boss to walk in and brief me on this or that. I'm listening to a band from Fairfax, VA. I'm trying to spark some creative combustion engine within me; It looks like the battery may be dead... perhaps the plugs need changing... I hope it's nothing worse. I hear the scrape of trousers on walking legs moving down the hall... if that had been my boss, he'd be in the door by now. Yesterday was a great weather day... overcast and cold. The clouds were big and blue grey. I don't think it rained on me. I drove from DC without donning my shades. Did you know "don" is actually a contraction? I did. I should go, shouldn't I?
11/12/96 - A quite perplexing problem perturbs me. How did the Italians make marinara sauce prior to Columbus bringing the tomato back to Europe from North America? The answer is probably quite simple: they didn't. But that's no fun. And pasta itself was brought to Europe from the east by Marco Polo. My favorite food is more new to Europeans than the very ground on which the building in which I write sits. How weird. Kids liked Hitler. I watched a documentary on Hitler's private life. Kids liked Hitler and Hitler liked kids. Could it be that Hitler is more like Michael Jackson than Hitler is like any other living man? Think about it. How often do you see pictures of either Hitler or M.J. where they aren't dressed in a military uniform? Very rarely. Hitler was an artist. Hitler, without his mustache, looks a bit like Pete Townshend. Some of Pete's albums spell his last name with an "H" and others don't; weird. M.J. and Pete have little in common... for one thing: Pete rocks. Hilter and Pete have little in common. Pete did participate in the British invasion, but the world doesn't consider this one of the most horrible events of this century. Nor did Pete fight in World War I. Ok, this is getting ridiculous, but think about the Hilter / M.J. thing... it's pretty interesting in a really stupid way. I bet Hilter would have had M.J. killed.
11/13/96 - Was yesterday's entry in poor taste? I guess it could have been construed badly; No one said anything but I thought I'd show a touch of remorse anyway. Sorry, no harm intended. Anyway, I'm here now. I drove to work with a giant pot of hot grits on my passenger side floor. I tried my hardest to spill not a single grit. The top was sealed very tightly and, believe it or not, not a single grit slipped out. I had a close call screeching to a halt at a down hill stop light. The pot slide forward and up the slant toward the dash board. I gasped. It was one of those moments where time breaks down to a viscious liquid through which things (including you) move really really really slowly but light still travels quickly. I saw the grit pot slide up the ramp then slowly turn as if it would tumble backwards spilling hot grits all over my (ironically) gritty floor board. It didn't happen. For some reason this reminds of a recurring nightmare I have. I'm trapped in a cage hanging from black nothingness over a plain like outer space, but with a floor. McGruff, the crime dog, laughs at me and I'm unable to call for help from my friends and family as they walk by, unaware of my plight. Time for my medication... What are these people in white jackets doing here? Gotta go.
11/14/96 - It's snowing! Of course it's not snowing hard. I couldn't see it while driving... there just wasn't enough stuff in the air to give that "jumping into hyperspace" look. But when I got out of the car and walked across the grass to work I could hear the tell tale buzz of snow. The loud sound of electricity I remember from last year and the year before and right on back to early childhood. Stand under high voltage lines and tell me that doesn't sound like snow. Or, next big snow storm, stand outside and tell me that doesn't sound like a high voltage line. I think snow brings out the kid inside me. But that's boring; most people, except for my Dad, start behaving slightly childish in the snow. I don't know why Dad doesn't. Ok, weirdness JUST happened. Out of my eye's corner I saw white flashes darting by my window. I snapped my head left and stared. Nothing. I returned to the terminal and the flashes happened again. I snapped back and the motion continued... there's no grounded snow; it can't be snowballs I'm seeing. It's Birds! Big white birds are swooping down into the parking lot... cool. My Dad is still a snow fuddy duddy though.
11/15/96 - In the spirit of adventure and because I want to be a writer, I proclaim next week: Fiction Week. I'll write a 5 part story next week. Let's start right now by setting up some characters. I think I've named my main character (he's a grape) Hector. Hector is blessed with rot free skin and guts and a mind. These are things I've never seen before in a grape. Hector lives here in Richmond. Hector has no friends. There are no other grapes endowed with sentience and he's afraid people would exploit him. He thought about a pet, but most of them just want to use him as food. See the difficulty? Now I guess I need a plot for my 5 part story. Let's see if Hector can... well, I'll worry about that next week. Maybe Hector is the only character in my story. That probably isn't true, but I can't think of anyone else right now. You know, I just realized today is friday? I've known since the moment I got up. But I'd forgotten this implies tomorrow is saturday. I don't have to work on saturdays so I tend to sleep late. I like sleeping late. Ok, the implications are now fully realized. Including: tonight is friday night. Which, as you know, is special because it's followed so closely by saturday. This may seem mundane to you, but IT IS special regardless of its weekly appearance. I guess what I'm saying is this: enjoy the fun stuff even if it is mundane; Life seems better when Life is fun.
11/25/96 - One month to Christmas. I haven't started my shopping yet. I'm usually one holiday behind all year long, but I try to catch up at Christmas. Luckily Thanksgiving is not a gift required holiday so I should be able to catch myself up this weekend. My sister's birthday was last month so I'll deliver her presents now. Being behind like this is slightly awkward at the time of an event, but it really spices up the next holiday. My sister probably doesn't expect to receive birthday presents now. How surprised will she be? I haven't decided what to get her, but I have 3 days to shop. Ok, other news... The new Star Trek film rocks. I have a friend who doesn't like to know about movies until she sees them. She reads this journal. I could be cruel and give away some of the plot, but I'm not really a cruel person. I have a headache... more coffee might fix it. Well, on with the week.
11/26/96 - I don't walk cleanly in the rain. I used to kick my feet out toward my sides. I guess all the running I've done has pulled my stride into a more efficient swing. I kick straight back now. And, apparently, up too. I walked from my car to the office this morning and the back of my legs are soaked. I have dirty grim and damp drainage silt all over my calves. Hopefully no one will notice. Aside from fact that I had to come into work I'm digging this morning. I enjoy things more on my own terms, but somethings are too good to not enjoy. I was awakened at 4:45 this morning by my leaky window. I rolled over and my alarm went off. Crap, I thought, someone has stolen almost 2 hours from me. I got up in the rainy darkness, got ready for work and stepped outside. It was still cloudy, but obviously clear skies were coming. I like the filtered light of thin clouds. True, there was water everywhere (much of it is now on my pants); the radio told me high water and heavy traffic don't mix. But I felt good because the air was comfortable and the light looked special.
11/27/96 - I awoke this moring and the water was almost up to my second floor apartment. I thanked God for my Mom's good sense as I pulled the wet suit she'd given me from under my bed. Where did I leave the spare oxygen tank? That's right... in the shower. I quickly realized putting the boat converter kit on my car last week was the smartest thing I've done all year, I mean, who would have guessed it would rain like this? Most people's cars are submerged under feet of water... Hell, who am I kidding? Most people are submerged under feet of water. Ahh, there's my Toyota tied to the fence by the tennis courts. Holy Cow!! Aligators! I didn't... oh, that's just one of those ratty kiddy upstairs in a silly costume. I know it's too cold for Aligators in Virginia. Boy, aren't the people at work going to be surprised when I drive up? Actually, probably not... I think UR is at a lower elevation; who'll be there? The Facilities crew will probably be out trying to do something with all this water. Actually, they're probably praying for a freeze so they can just chop it into blocks and move it away. The spring thaws sure will suck.