I'm a pretty girl

This costume was an interesting experience. For starters, it's inflatable, which would make one think it would be nice and cool inside...but no. It traps all my body heat inside the suit, so it is necessary to deflate every half hour or so and re-inflate outside in the cold air. It took a little getting used to walking through doors, eating, working my way through a crowd, using the restroom, etc., but I made it through okay.

The trick to this costume is all about character. I found that I got bigger laughs if I acted as hyper as possible. Running around got the best laughs, particularly if I used tiny steps.

What took a little getting used to was having everyone I came across immediately went for either the tits or the ass of this portly ballerina. Later in the evening, My friends Mary, Kim and Libby kidnapped me and took me down to the Freaker's Ball at the Brady Theater. At least at the party I was getting groped my people I knew. Complete strangers is another matter. It's strange how much a costume can help a chickenshit like me be so bold as to bump and grind with naughty nurses and vampire mistresses. On the other hand, I did get dry-humped by a drunk, middle aged Spiderman and got felt up by a ghostbuster. Ladies, I now empathize with you. You are not a piece of meat. You deserve so much more than to be treated like this.

I did, however, run into an ex-girlfriend of mine, who was dressed in a black dress and her makeup made to look all evil. How appropriate. A short, awkward conversation later, and I was back on the dance floor.

Another thing about the costume, any noticeable movement has to be all in shoulders. This was perfect for me, because no one could truly tell how bad of a dancer I really was. How sad a statement is it that I need to dress up as a fat ballerina to be popular.

In da club

Last night was the night one of the AOH Oklacana Music Festival at Arnie's Bar, and I worked the door. It was a lot of fun. I was told that my job was to check IDs and take the cover. When I showed up, I was told that the cover was a volutary donation to Catholic Charities Food Pantry. After about an hour, I figured out the perfect pitch: "Hey, guys! First of all, I'm gonna need to see some ID. Secondly, in lieu of a cover, we're accepting donations for Catholic Charities Food Pantry. We're suggesting $3, or if you care to give more, that'd be great."

It worked great. Only about five or six people looked at me and scoffed at the idea of donating money and walked in without paying. Some people gave five, some gave ten, some gave twenty. It turned out to be a great night for the AOH.

One thing I didn't know was that if someone comes up with an expired license, it's the same as if they're underage. The owner of the bar told me this and I figured, what are the odds? I only encountered this once over the course of the night, and this guy looked at least 45. When I told him he couldn't go in, he looked like he was about to punch me. I'm so glad the owner Chris had given me the huge Maglite billy club/flashlight. It really helped me with the image of the badass doorman.

Speaking of which, it was funny to have people treat me with this level of...well, respect isn't the right word...fear is more appropriate. "I'm gonna be able to get back in if I leave, right? Sir?" I'd pretend to have a real problem with it, but pull back at the last second, saying, "Nah, I'm just fucking with you. I'll remember you."

There was this one guy who, early in the evening, noticed the big wad of cash I was given for change, and commented that he'd try to rob me before the end of the night. Three times over the course of the night he stuck his hand under his shirt and pretended to be holding a gun, and asked for the money. I just laughed in his face. I told him it's hard for me to take him seriously when A) his "gun" has the distinct outline of fingernails under his t-shirt, and B) he told me he was gonna try this. Funny the first time. Vaguely funny the second time. Fairly annoying the third time.

There was one really fucked up moment-but a good kind of fucked up. There was this one girl walking out who kept looking back at me and smiling as she was leaving. It was one of those odd moments where the longer I waited, the more I needed to say something, only I couldn't walk away from the door because people were wanting to come in. Stupid work ethic!

I got home around two and fell right asleep and woke up around eleven this morning.

Another short post

A good, slow day. Not much to do, and it was a welcome relief. Next week is gonna be hell, but I don't care. I'm living for today, man.

My boss grilled some chicken, burgers and bratwurst. I am so full right now that I'm afraid I won't have enough room for beer tonight. I'm working the door at Arnie's, and what you really need for that is to be all carbed out, tired, and full beyond belief.

And now, I rest. I'll post more tomorrow after I've had some rest.

Nada

Have you ever hit your funny bone so hard you lose feeling in your hand? I did that around noon today and I'm just now able to feel my fingertips.

Today was just an average day...nothing much to report, aside from the funny bone thing. Ususally, at least one thing happens during the day that has some profound meaning, or make some sort of a statement on life, but no. Nothing. Zip. Nada.

I'm glad, though. No news is good news. Going down to Arnie's tonight will be much more enjoyable. If something had happened, odds are I'd be bitching about it here and all night. Being drunk and generally pissed off is never a good combination.

I have a bitch

While at my desk, I heard a client walking back to my office saying "No, It's cool. I got Dan."

Upon entering my office, I joked with her, "You don't get me. I belong to no one."

To which, she replied, "Who're you kidding? You're so much my bitch."

She came in to have me convert a file for her, and when I had to go back to the office after hours to fix it for her (going above and beyond the call of duty), she proclaimed that she is now my bitch. Going from bitch to bitch-owner, it warms the heart...

I hada really good day. On an average day I go through 5-7 jobs a day. Today, I got through over 12! I'm so rocking right now.

What do I do to celebrate? Leftover spaghetti, internet and I Love the 80's on VH1. Just when you think I'm scraping the bottom of the pathetic barrel, I lift up the barrel.

Mmmm...donuts.

Busy day, busy day. I got through my work today in record time and efficiency, and all this without losing my cool. Hooray maturity!

What got me through it all? For some strange reason, I had the keyboard lick from "The Final Countdown" stuck in my head. I haven't heard that song in ten years, and it became my anthem for the day.

When I left work, I wasn't hungry at all. Five minutes after getting home, I was starving. So, off to the Neighborhood Market for groceries. I went down the aisles, grabbing things at random, completely aware of the dangers of shopping when you're hungry. I did good, though. More than a week's worth of food for forty bucks.

I got back home and made enough spaghetti to feed a family of twelve. I learned how to cook shaghetti from my grandfather, who, due to his stint as a cook in the army, didn't know how to cook for less than fifty people.

I'm glad I have a roommate at times like these. Back when I lived alone, I'd have this kind of stuff lingering in the fridge for two weeks. That episode of the Simpsons where Homer vows to finish the party sub, and is still eating it after it turns all moldy and green...that didn't seem too far-fetched to me. One time, my sister-in-law sent me back from Little Rock with a case of guacamole from her food distibution company...twelve pounds of guac, man...I ate it all. I could live my whole life and NEVER taste avocadoes ever again, and I would be okay with it.

While talking with a client today, I learned from her how to get a free donut at Krispy Kreme. Another client gave me a gift certificate to that new cafe on Cherry Street. My boss anouced that he'll be grilling burgers on Friday. This job of mine may not get me laid, but it certainly keeps me fed.

Piling it on

"For every focus, there is an equal and opposite distraction." -Steve Martin, The Pleasure of My Company

I went into the office today expecting to get this big project done by noon. That was until three other projects suddenly got really, really hot. The above quote sums it up perfectly. Every moment I was able to focus on what I needed to do, there was another moment I had to answer the phone, run new proofs, fix something, run errands. I got home sometime around 7:30.

I didn't even get a chance to call the bank to ask about the mortgage thing. That's on my list for tomorrow, right after a few things still left over from last week. Some days it seems like I'm racing the Tour De France on a stationery bike. What compounded things is the fact that I took a sleeping pill last night that left me feeling groggy all day.

But I've had my leftover pizza, I'm watching CSI, and I'll be going to bed early tonight.

???

I got an interesting piece of mail yesterday. A letter from the mortgage office telling me of a computer error. It says it's not a guarantee of getting the loan, but it does have a payment schedule on it. Weren't these the same people who told me I might want to consider bankruptcy?

Is this the bank just trying to screw with me? Like they're just trying to build me up to knock me down? As if several of my ex-girlfriends are now on the board of directors?

I'll know more tomorrow, when I call the bank and see what's up. If all goes well, I could be on the fast track to first-time home ownership. God help me.

Achtung, baby

Had to be the good litle German boy and go to Oktoberfest last night. I made the mistake of eating way too much, leaving no room for beer. Bratwurst, plus a fully loaded fried potato, then a stawberry newberg, and wash it all down with almost a full pitcher of six point German beer.

There is NOTHING you eat at an outdoor festival that can be consumed in graceful way. Sure, you may have it served on a plate, with forks or spoons, but after five minutes everyone-regardless of class-just says "FUCK IT!" and digs in with both hands. This is the main reason I've avoided chili cook-offs. "Keep eating! I know if burns your fingers, but you get numb to it after a while."

Shortly before we all left, I asked my friend Heather to hold me to my word, and not allow me to date anyone else in our circle of friends. There are still a few that I hadn't dated for various reasons, like bad timing, self-worth issues or psychopathic tendencies. Plus, it's been very difficult to date people who already know my history. The first date conversations are all the same: "So, when you were dating [insert name here], what happened there?" Even though they already know what happened, because they hang out with [insert name here].

After Oktoberfest, we went to a party at a friend's house, where I saw several woment hat made me add an ammendment to the rule: One- or two-time hookups were allowed.

Not that I did anything about it last night. I was too tired to try to be charming to a complete stranger. And the ones that I've kinda had an eye on was good friends with at least one of my more evil ex-girlfriends. It's kinda like applying for a loan at a bank you robbed years ago. It's in the past, you've paid your debt to society, but the stigma remains.

Alternatively, If I find someone outside the group, there will come the day where I'll have to tell her, "Hey, you know those women over there at the bar? Well, I slept with her, dated her, was engaged to her, made out with her." Not that I'd ever be that blunt about it, but it's something I'll have to divulge at some point.

I'm of two minds over the whole thing, though. Half of me is telling me to get back out there, while the other half is telling me it's way too soon. So, what I have decided to do is compromise. I'm not gonna active look, but if a situation arises, like if I was being pursued in some way, I won't put up much of a fight.

Mixed drinks

After work, I got home, made myself some dinner and came down with a serious case of cabin fever. So, it was off to Borders for a latte, then for no reason whatsoever I went to Arnie's for a pint of Guinness. Now I'm home, and I've got this low-grade mix of stimulants and depressants doing a West Side Story type rumble in my bloodstream, and I thought I'd write about it.

It kinda reminds me of last summer, when I was at an Electric Rag Band gig. My buddy Nathan bought me what he called a Little Rock Iced Tea. It was just like a Long Island Iced Tea, but it was mixed with Red Bull. I've never been a big fan of Red Bull. To me it tasted like Gatorade strained through a mummy, blended with rotting strawberries and then carbonated. But mixed with a potent combination of alcohol, then you've got a nice little trip on your hands. You're hyper as hell, and drunk out of your mind. But the real fun comes later when you're sobering up and crashing from the caffeine at the same time. You have full control of your faculties, but you're totally exhausted. It makes for a fun drive home, I'll tell you what.

Change of subject, I'm sure television programming managers think it's really clever to only show the movie Friday on a Friday, but this has got to be the worst movie to watch censored. The guy they got to overdub Chris Tucker sounds like Woody Woodpecker. And what they came up with to substitute the curse words is almost as bad as the TV version of the Exorcist: "Your mother sews socks that smell!!!"

For some strange reason, I have a sudden urge to watch the Incredibles. Sometimes I have no idea how my mind works in situations like this. I get to thinking about one thing, then I do the exact opposite. I'm the kind of guy that'll walk into a restaurant wanting to order something light, like a salad, then order the fettucine alfredo with a extra side of garlic bread.

And now, for something completely different...CONCRETE HOG SURFING!!!

Biting my tongue

Today was just one pet peeve after another. By about three o'clock, I was getting rather zen about it. In every situation, I could've said something that would've diffused the whole thing, but it would put me at risk for a heavy backlash.

I could've told the guy asking me how to set up his art in Microsoft Publisher to just go out and buy InDesign, but I couldn't do that because of stupid "diplomacy" and crap.

I could've told the boss to take a deep breath and count to ten, but I'd rather poke a grizzly bear with a very short stick...far less conflict involved.

It's frustrating being an idealist or even a cautious optimist in this line of work. There are always gonna be things that defy logic and reason. The sooner I quit fighting it and come to accept it, the easier my work is gonna be. My real problem is I don't want to compromise on these things. I don't want to get to that point where my ready-made response to a problem is "Go ahead, it's easier than beating the shit out of you." My problem is not that I care too much, but I just don't want to NOT care about these things.

In the meantime I've got one of those headaches that feels like someone's giving a purple nurple to my optic nerves. A few drinks tonight might help. Until tomorrow morning, when I'm sure it'll feel like someone's given my brain a pink belly and a wet willy. Yes, I got picked on a lot in junior high.

I just want to create, to give people what they need rather than just what they want, and with as little conflict and stupid shit as possible. A good paycheck would be nice, too.

Things that make me happy (a partial list)

1. Watching Scott McClellan, White House Press Secretary, fielding questions with that same look on his face as the fat kid in a third-grade dodgeball game. I keep waiting for him to plead, "Aw, c'mon you guys, cut it out!", or at least jump the podium and attempt to beat the crap out of that one guy that keeps asking him if Karl Rove is gonna be fired or not.

2. Tapioca pudding. 'Nuff said.

3. That little message when I update my blog: "This may take a few minutes, you have a large blog." Only, in my mind, I substitute the last word and imagine this being said by one of five random girls from my high school days.

4. Going into a bar I don't normally go to, ordering a Guinness and the bartender actually pours it correctly. There's a technique involved here, folks. Ahhh, Guinness: The patient man's beer.

5. Eight words: "Oh, I'm sorry. Tell you what, no charge." Sometimes, I'm imagining this being said by one of five random girls from my high school days.

6. That brief moment after one of my favorite TV shows where they say, "Stay tuned for scenes from our next episode." signalling that next week's show is not a rerun.

7. That moment of dawning comprehension when somebody realizes what they've figured something out. It's like getting to watch them become smarter. When this happens, I think back to that caveman who first made fire by rubbing two sticks together. "Hey, wait until Og gets a load of this!"

8. Being introduced to a woman that is waaaay out of my league. Even if it's for a short, fleeting moment, I'm charming as hell.

9. Doing something completely unexpected for someone else, and catching them off guard by it. In our jaded and cynical world, some days all it takes is opening the door for someone.

10. When people give alternate reality scenarios to express regret over a situation. If this is to be believed, because of what I've done here, my doppleganger in Bizarro World is well-paid, highly sexed, and thirty pounds lighter. What brings a smile to my face is the thought that Bizarro Fritschie is gonna screw up some day...let's just hope it's on a day when I buy lottery tickets.

11. Today's pic: Things that bounce off the wall of disturbing only to become hilarious.

Hard truths

You'd think that I'd learn by now not to discuss my financial woes with my parents. Last week, I told them of my little adventure in mortgage application. Tonight, my mom asked me to consider the possiblity of moving down to Little Rock, living with them, getting a better paying job and get my credit back on track.

Tough call. While my job isn't the highest paying job in the free world, it's stable. As much as I want to help fix my finances, it's a huge risk to pack up and start my life anew in another state. I have built a life here in Tulsa. If I were to consider any type of move, It'd be back to northwest Arkansas where I have friends. I love my family, but aside from them, I don't know anyone there.

Besides, there are too many unstable variables. What if I get a good paying job, something I like, only to get laid off in six months. This is a fickle business. Once the economy takes a nosedive, the first part of any business' budget to get cut is advertising. Combine this with the fact that any schmuck with a computer thinks that's all it takes to work in this field. I have a degree in graphic design, I have worked in this field for over eight years, and I have lost count of how many people I've met that make a better living at this than me and have never even heard of Photoshop!

But like I said, my job is stable. As far as my livelihood is concerned, I'm playing it safe. When it comes to my career, it's good to have a four years with the same company, but it's not the kind of experience most graphics employers will be looking for. I need to take a big risk, but I need to formulate a backup plan before I do.

I'm staying put for now, but I need to make certain changes. The belt not only needs to be tightened, but supplemental income may be in order. A second job. All because I was so incredibly stupid in my younger days.

Mean streak

I can have a real mean streak sometimes. Today, I had two classic examples. I read an article about Charles Rocket committing suicide. He was a guy that was on Saturday Night Live back in the eighties. About the only thing he did on the show that gained him any notoriety was the fact that he got fired for cursing on the air during a sketch.

The article mentioned the supposed "curse of SNL" surrounding the deaths of Phil Hartman (murder), Chris Farley & John Belushi (both overdosed), Gilda Radner & Denitra Vance (both from cancer). It even went so far as to mention that Garrett Morris got shot back in the nineties, yet he survived.

Now, In thinking about this "curse", I can't help thinking, "AND JIMMY FALLON STILL WALKS THE EARTH?!?" So all day long I kept thinking of ways the really annoying stars could meet their demise. Rob Schneider: Strangled to death by a transvestite prostitute during an attempted post-trick robbery. Adam Sandler: Electrocuted due to faulty wiring during a performance of the Hanukkah Song. David Spade: Beheaded in mid-smirk.

The second instance came today while driving home from work, when a fucknut on a Honda (which I believe is Japanese for "training wheels") motorcycle weaved across two lanes of traffic to make the exit at the very last second. I did a play by play of what I hoped would happen to this guy. "Oh, what a shame, he's losing control of the bike, flying over the handlebars. Then the bike hits him square in the nuts...Oops! There goes the gas tank, engulfing him in flames. That's gotta hurt. Good thing that busload of grade school kids stopped to pee on him to put out the fire..."

Good thing I only THINK like this sometimes. If I ever went further than that, I'd be one sadistic son of a bitch.

A short imagined dialogue

Street Vendor: Hey, man! How would you like to buy an American flag for your car window?

Me: No, thanks.

Street Vendor: What's the matter...Aren't you an American?

Me: Yes, I am. And as such, I have the right to refuse to put on my car a cheaply made, poorly mass-produced-in Korea, mind you-piece of crap that is only gonna tatter in the wind, bleach with the sun or disintegrate in the rain.

Street Vendor: Um...It's only five bucks-

Me: And another thing, how dare you call my patriotism into question just to make a buck, you self-righteous capitalist prick!

Street Vendor (under his breath): Commie.

Two days, two states, two worlds

The drive into Fayetteville on Friday was fairly uneventful. I had about 20 CDs in the car with me, but the stereo stayed off for most of the ride. I just wanted to think for a while...something I'm learning to take stock in a lot here lately.

Once in town, I met up with Nate and Mike (groom and best man, respectively) at the church. I helped them take care of the last minute preparations. I probably should've waited to change into my dress clothes until after the kegs needed to be unloaded. That way, I wouldn't have spent most of the night with a thin, visible layer of sweat all over me the whole night. Not that any of my friends cared. They were just so happy to see me, and vice versa.

The wedding itself was a trip. The chapel had a rule: No photographs were allowed of the actual ceremony in order to preserve the sanctity of the exchanging of the vows. Good rule, very logical. However, in order to get photos of the actual wedding, we had to sit there as the wedding party exited the chapel, then walked right back in to reinact the whole thing. It was surreal. My friend Tommy and I treated like a new DVD. Watch the movie, then watch it again with director's commentary. "It took Nate about 20 take to get the kiss just right. We originally shot this in a Synagogue, but we changed it to a chapel in post-production. The studio wanted us to digitally replace the bouquets with walkie-talkies..."

The reception was a blast. I got caught up with a lot of my friends, and at times it felt like I had never left them. I had to explain the breakup about two dozen times, but I was getting good at the abridged version.

Saturday, I slept in until about noon. A bunch of us met up for lunch, then I went driving around with Mike and Aliceson all afternoon. On a side note, Rogers, Arkansas, has a casket outlet store. Hidden in a strip mall, there is a store where you can go in and pick from an assortment of custom made caskets, including a Harley-Davidson model with black leather lining, a hot pick "Princess" themed number, and one decorated in camoflage, inside and out. Ponder that for a moment, won't you? Six feet under ground, would it still need to blend into a wooded area?

I wanted to stay for another night, but I had to get back home to catch Larkin and Cairde Na Gael down at Arnie's. I had a few beers, talked with my friends, and closed down the bar.

Today, I rest.

Goods and services

At least three times in my life, I've left a store and not realized untill I get back to my car that I just made a very poetic purchase. The first time this happened was when I was first on my own, and this was the first real entertainment expense since being out on my own. I got out into the parking lot and noticed that I had just purchased a VHS copy of Dr. Strangelove and a CD single of Depeche Mode's Strangelove. A couple years later, I bought my DVD of American Beauty and a used copy of the Grateful Dead's American Beauty, again not realizing it until I left the store.

Tonight, while it may not fit the same criteria as the other two...I went into Target to get my friend Nate's wedding gift. The back story here is that when I first knew him, Nate had the most questionable hygiene known to man (he's gotten a LOT better over the years). What got me thinking-and laughing my ass off when I got to my car-was the fact that I just bought him a new SHOWER HEAD! I just had to call my friend (and Nate's former roommate) Mike and leave him a message telling him about it.

Well, in getting back to what's been going on with my finances. I knew that I'd have to do some serious soul searching over the bankruptcy thing given the deadline before the laws change. I was told today, the deadline is this Sunday at midnight. With everything I have going on over the next three days, there is not enough time, money, or energy left in me to try to beat the deadline.

So, what am I gonna do? Candy and I have decided to extend our lease for another six months. That way, I won't have to sweat out deposit payments while I'm filing for chapter 7. Second, I'm gonna wait until about February, when I have my tax refund in hand, I'm gonna see what I need to do. Until then, I'm gonna stay the course.

My case isn't as extreme as most people who've had to file bankruptcy. At worst, I owe around $20k, including my current car payment, credit cards and the evil that is GMAC. About half the people I've talked to about this have told me horror stories that can only be expressed in fractions of a million dollars. Eek! While that makes me feel a lot better, it doesn't help my balance diminish any at all.

Here's a pic of what I hope to see tonight...a couple empty glasses in front of me at Arnie's. Anyone who cares to join me, I'm there every Thursday night around 9:30.

I'm royally boned

Went in for my mortgage application today. You know you've got money problems when a loan officer punches up your credit report and goes, "Whoa!"

When I punched up my credit report online about five weeks ago, My score was in the low 700's. Between then and now, A couple of my creditors issued red flags on my report. That dropped my score by almost two hundred points. I should've figured as much.

But hey! At least I'm safe from identity fraud! Yes, the best protection in the world is having horrible credit. Christ, I'm surprised the computer didn't list me as a flight risk.

I knew it was a long shot to hope for debt consolidation to be lumped into this mortgage. According to the guy at the bank, no bank in the free world would allow that to happen. Not even if my credit was immaculate. Hope springs eternal...at least until you try out for a loan.

Basically, I have four options:

1) I can apply for a loan, but the one that I'll have the best chance of getting would require a massive letter-writing campaign to the three credit bureaus explaining EVERY discrepency on my report. My chances are slim to nil, and I'm getting writer's cramp just thinking about it.

2) I could try with a less reputable bank that might take a rsik loaning money to a guy like me. I believe the name of the mank is the Merchant of Venice Savings and Loan. The bad news is, the pound of flesh is due up front.

3) Admit defeat. Declare bankruptcy. Sounds like fun, huh? As detrimental as THAT would be to my lending potential, consider everything I've written in this post so far. If I stay the course as I have so far in paying off my debt, I'd be square sometime in 2029. On the other hand, I've paid enough in interest charges and late fees that my credit cards should've been paid off by now. Any pleading for mercy in order to get any type of loan or credit would get me the same interest rates as it would by just checking that little box saying that yes, I have declared bankruptcy. Seven years of financial stigma versus 24 years of meekly forking over half my paycheck for things that I no longer own. Gee, which one should I pick?

4) Invest lots of money in the Oklahoma education system by buying lottery tickets.

Tonight, I went to St. Michael's Alley to see Three Penny Upright play. I took a good look at the menu board and figured that I may not be able to afford a big meal for a while, so I went for the Cajun pork chops, which apparently had been marinated in pure cayenne extract for about a month. Good thing there was a baked potato along with it. The starches in the potato were the only thing keeping me from hosing down my taste buds with a fire extinguisher.

I ran into this one dude Corey there. This is a guy that I have yet to see outside of a gathering of my friends, and without fail, we end up chain smoking outside working each other up into a frenzy of conversation about Star Wars, comic books and sci-fi. I'm sure it's a blast to watch us talk about this, but whatever you do, don't try to out-geek us, 'cause you'll be goin' down, fool!

Here's today's pic, which I'm sure I've used before, but I don't care. Speaking of which, I will be accepting donations to the Get Fritschie An Extra Value Meal Fund. Open your hearts and your wallets to keep me from becoming a true starving artist.

Being a grown-up sucks

We had our follow-up meeting today, and I'm glad to say we're all on the same page. I know now that my job decription is gonna get a bit bigger. More organization, coordination and communication between the other departments. Hell, anything to keep my boss from screaming at me like he did yesterday. Jesus, that was weird.

I made the call today to set up an appointment for pre-qualification for a mortgage. Tonight, I need to find my W-2's for the past two years (okay), my pay stubs for the past two months (no problem, I'll just clean out my car), and my bank statements for the past two months (eek! overdrafts!). I'm being very cautiously optimistic. I'm halfway expecting to hear "You qualify for fifty." Great! I get fifty thousand! "No, you get fifty bucks. At 18%. With closing costs, taxes and application fee, you owe us thirty-seven. Have a nice day."

Of course, this isn't the only place I'm gonna check. In order to get everything I want, I may have to go somewhere a little less reputible, like Vito's Credit Union. Just out of curiosity, after they brek my legs, do I still owe them the money?

I'll know more tomorrow if I need to solidify my plan B: Another efficiency apartment. I'll have to resort to lots of bologna and ramen noodles, or if I want to keep cable internet...dirt and twigs.

The good news is, my boss has told me that if I want my furniture back (that he bought from me for his daughter who's since moved back home), that it's available at the same price I sold it to him. Yay!

Here's what I need: A DRINK!

Attempted professional suicide

You know the day has taken a turn for the fucked-up when your boss barges into your office without warning or provocation and bags up your trash for you, screaming "You know what? I give up. I really give up...No, I got it. JESUS!"

Yeah, he was a lot of fun today. At any given moment, I didn't know if he was gonna slug me, fire me, shove bamboo shoots under my nails, or go completely off the deep end, leaving only a trail of dead behind him. Whenever he gets like this, when the monkey up his ass gets its own monkey up its ass, I just try to avoid the crosshairs. Today was one of those days that it didn't work. I got my ass chewed out for things that didn't even make it to my desk, for no other reason than I should've known what to do. Gee, doesn't that violate the fundamental rule of KNOWING being half the battle?

He called a meeting to discuss the problems we're having. We all opted to take 24 hours to collect our thoughts on the matter and find the most diplomatic way of telling everyone how they're doing. I think I should bring in about a dozen banana cream pies for our little follow-up meeting. You know, just in case!

Seriously, though, I'm working on my list of problem areas around the office...most of them dealing with morale. Wanna know what's number one on my list? Not getting paid for having to work on this list in my free time.

Here is a completely random pic. Taken in downtown Little Rock.

Digital cameras and boredom can make strange bedfellows

Take a close look at this photo. Care to take a stab at what the hell this is?

No, it's not an alternate take for Coldplay's Parachutes album cover. Nor is it a still from the "Miracles of Conception" filmstip from high school health class. Given my tendency to accidentally burn my eggs in the morning, it's not a shot of this morning's five-alarm breakfast.

Anyone who cares to venture a guess (excluding those who I've already told what it is) can post a comment. Think of it as a caption/puzzle contest.

Mood movies

My good friend Mary has a daughter who is 12. You'd never guess it by talking to her. Her sweetness is matched only by her incredible intelligence. You can talk to her for hours and find yourself outwitted moreso than you would talking to someone your own age. Anyway, whenever she see me, she gives me these huge bear hugs. The only reason I bring it up is because, at the wedding last night, I think she may have cracked one of my ribs while hugging me.

I am exhausted, physically and emotionally. For reasons that are beyond me, I got home from the wedding last night and put in the movie Memento. I realized that this kind of movie/event thing happens to me quite often. I will sit down to watch a movie that is, at first glance, the polar opposite of everything that is happening to me at that moment. But what I'm always pleasantly surprised is the meaning I gather from watching that particular movie at that particular time.

I remember sitting down the night of the tenth anniversary of my father's death. I had already had a few beers, well on my way to getting really drunk all by myself. I thought the movie Blade Runner would be a good distraction. However, I got into the themes of mortality, and how we all have a very short time on this world. No matter how hard we try to avoid it, death is unavoidable. There was a line from that movie that rang true to me (even though it could've been the beer making it more profound), "The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and you have burned so very very brightly." It helped to put everything in perspective.

Last night, Memento got me thinking about memory, and the little things you take for granted. Memories change over time. The memories I have from my childhood (thought few and far between) are generally viewed through rose-colored glasses, or through tunnel vision. A lot of my early life I missed because I was too busy focused on other things. What has changed in me as an adult is that everyone in my life today has had a long history with me. I cannot think of anyone in my life now that I haven't known at least a year. I see all of them quite often, and I am reminded of this long history I have with each of them. Most of them good, some bad, but the bad ones are easily overlooked. Water under the bridge or collectively swept under the rug, you be the judge. Wow, three cliches in one sentance. I'm gifted.

I sence a little phase catching on with me. I'm starting to see little lessons in everything today as a result of my thoughts during the movie last night. I find myself getting lost in Monsters Inc. and deconstructing the friendships of animated monsters. I need to just shut off the TV.

No pic today. I'll try to get off my ass and get some more pics soon.

Down the aisle

The rehearsal dinner was awesome. Fried catfish and fried cornbread. Good old fashioned home cooking that really make me wonder why I don't have it more often. I made it a point not to overeat. I got to a good level of full. We all sat around talking for a couple hours before we actually got to the rehearsing. Then, a couple more hours of sitting around talking. A lot of people didn't yet know about Candy and I, and I felt no urge to tell them.

I went to Target this morning to get Colleen and Britt's wedding gift, along with wrapping paper and a dress shirt for myself. This was my first time actually wrapping a present in about 12 years, and I did an okay job. I got them a coffee maker and filters. The coffee maker was easy to wrap, however the filters were probably never meant to ever be on a bridal registry, much less gift wrapped. It was tricky, but I managed.

It was an interesting wedding. Not in the ceremony itself, but the people around me. Of the people I actually knew, about half were in awe of my ability to show up for my ex-fiancee's wedding. I kept having to tell them that that was over four years ago. I don't see her as my ex anymore. She is my friend, and one of my best friends. Her [new] husband also happens to be a great guy whom I'm proud to becoming great friends with.

For years, those of us in the "group" have been pretty protective of Colleen. We've seen a lot of guys come her way, with a LOT of red flags being raised. When Britt came along, he stymied our whole screening process. Very quickly he had us assured. Some things, no matter how many different ways you question it, just make perfect sense.

Those people at the wedding that knew about Candy and I were trying to play matchmaker. Forgiving the fact that it is WAY too soon for me to even be thinking about another woman...the women that were potential suitorettes had certain obstacles. One that I've always kind of liked is not the kind of girl I should try to pursue right after a breakup. She's too sweet of a girl to burden with my hang-ups at this particular juncture. The other, the one that caught the bouquet, is also a sweet girl, and has some of the same abstract wants and desires out of life as I do, but that does not even come close to eclipsing the fact that we have nothing else in common. Opposites my attract, but when it comes to chemistry, that only makes everything neutral.

To compound things, I got the garter. I didn't catch it, so much as I got it by default. Apparently I was the only single man at this wedding, so Britt just chucked it at me. This was my third garter. I got two more weddings over the next month and a half...I may get a fourth or a fifth.

I have a great bunch of friends. I love them and they love me. I can't imagine my life without them. Tonight was a good night, and it was great to spend time with them, but I did feel rather alone. Not lonely, just alone.

Here's a picture of the happy couple.

I'm back...more or less

It's been a couple days since my last post, and I want to apologize to my three to five diehard fans out there. I've been busy. Not just with work, but I have had a busy social calendar this week.

Wednesday was Britt's bachelor party, which consisted of drinks and pool at Sharkey's...on ladies night, of all nights. You'd think that would mean lots of amazing looking women...not so much. Many of them could out-butch me. There were some exceptions, though...like our waitress. Man, this girl knew how to dress for maximum tips. There wasn't a square inch of this woman that wasn't a pleasant focal point. Aye, Chihuahua!

Last night was Arnie's Bar, and it was a wallflower kinda night for me. Besides, after having garlic chicken for dinner, then drinking and smoking, not to mention the fact that the owner of the bar set out some aged, smoked cheddar for us to snack on...I was surprised my breath wasn't peeling the paint off the walls. Toward the end of the night, I found myself sitting by myself on the patio next to the chiminea.

Tonight, I'm attending the rehearsal for Colleen and Britt's wedding. Given the events of this past week, I'm going into this with a very weird head space. There's this one part of me that wants to keep to myself, yet there's this other side thinking "Hey, there are still a couple of the bridesmaids I haven't dated yet!" But then, that first side smacks the other side upside the head. Damned logic!

With the wedding tomorrow night, that makes four nights in a row of moderate to heavy drinking. This is the closest I've ever come to a bender. We'll just see how my liver is holding up by tomorrow.

No pics tonight. I gotta get going.

Read this post, or I'll shoot a bunny

Just kidding. It's actually a chinchilla.

That's not true, either. I just wanted an excuse to use the word chinchilla. Say it out loud. Doesn't that just put a smile on your face?

The biggest laugh I've had in weeks came courtesy of my buddy Seth. I was talking to him and told him about Candy and I breaking up, and he responded, "Let me guess, was it your latent homosexuality clashing with her bleeding-heart liberalism?" Think about that statement for a moment.

Not true at all...not that there's anything wrong with that. Most of my closest friends are bleeding-heart liberals.

I worked late tonight, scanning in about 75 childhood pictures of a beuty pageant contestant. This is the life I chose for myself. Nights like this, I my mantra is overtime...overtime...overtime...

The Discovery Channel is running ads for a show about the Coast Guard with Hendrix's "All Along the Watchtower" playing in the background. Not to knock the efforts of our men and women in...What color are their uniforms again? Anyway, What does that song have to do with the Coast Guard? When I hear that song, I think about Vietnam. "Alright, boys, be on the lookout for Charlie in Orange County!"

Today's pic is something that happened to me a couple weeks ago. Because of this, now whenever I hear someone complain about a paper jam, I will smack them upside their head. This is our film imager, with a 45 degree media jam. That was fun!

Big, weird, oddly-calming news

Well, Candy and I had another talk...a to-be-continued of our talk last week. In the end it was decided that, in keeping with the way things have been progressing between us, we are gonna break up.

All those cliches, all those little things you hear at the end of a relationship; they're all true this time. Little differences became too big to ignore. We're still gonna be friends. It wasn't anyone's fault. We were heading in different directions. It's for the best. All of these are true.

We both acknowledge that there were things we could try to save certain aspects of the relationship, but would risk ruining any chances for friendship if we were to fail. So, we decided it was best to quit while we were ahead. Our lease is up in December, and we're gonna be roommates until then.

Strangely enough, this IS what's best. I'm fine. Finally, a complete absence of high drama. No hurt feelings, no yelling, no disagreement, no anger and no hatred. If any of my previous girlfriends had succeeded in their dastardly plans to screw up my intuition of women, I'd swear I must be insane and that Candy is some kind of cyborg. How else can we possibly explain the most sensible, logical, most level-headed breakup in the history of mankind? Simple, it just worked out that way.

Candy is an amazing woman, and I do love her dearly. She loves me too, I'm sure. We came together over a year ago as two whole people. The fact that we were together was icing on the cake. We will continue to be two whole people long after this. A true win-win situation.

As for me and my plans...I've got two months before the lease is up, and I don't intend to go back to throwing away money on another small crappy apartment. I'm gonna see about qualifying for a home loan and find a nice house somewhere in Tulsa (no move to the 'burbs for me). Whether i can accomplish this, is up to an understanding loan officer and me kissing a lot of ass. I guess I had better pucker up, then.

Yet again, I couldn't find a pic to go with what I just posted.

It's the little things...

Every time I get in a depression, it becomes a quest to find that one thing that will pull me out. About six years ago, when I had "the big one" (as I like to call it), I learned the hard way what not to do when you're seriously depressed. Things like read Bonfire of the Vanities, or listen to NPR for more than two hours out of the day, or eat nothing but Wheat Chex for every meal. However, what pulled me out of that one was listening to Dave Matthews Band's album Crash over and over again, particularly the song #41. "I will go in this way/And find my own way out/I wont tell you to stay/But I'm coming to much more."

The I've had two serious funks since then. For the first, it was a saturday afternoon driving around, taking turns at random, ending up somewhere in southern Missouri before turning around. Perhaps it was the feeling of being physically lost and finding my way back that snapped me out of it.

The last one came about from a break-up a couple years ago. I was falling hard for this one girl, and it fizzled really quick. What really got me down was the energy I wasted on someone who was completely incapable of loving anyone or anything in this world. What snapped me out of it was a surprising new relationship with a woman I had been great friends with for a couple years. I was leaving her house, I hugged her goodbye and my hand lingered on the small of her back for too long. In a flash, we were making out on her front porch, then went inside to go just a bit further. She and I dated hot and heavy for a couple months before it all ended rather abruptly.

Which lead to one of the biggest mysteries about my depression. What works one time never works a second time. And if the cure runs out or I just stop taking it, I don't just fall back into my funk. I stopped listening to that Dave Matthews album, I can't just go on another road trip because of gas prices, and I'm not about to go looking up my last ex-girlfriend because-as I found out too late-she's crazier than a shithouse rat.

It's different every time. And my newest little adventure into the rabbit hole has sent me on this search yet again. I may have found it. Today, I was reminded that almost every situation can be hilarious if you look at it a certain way. For instance, this picture was taken at a road house bar in Skiatook. It's an album cover nailed to the wall in the men's room. I don't know if this was intentional or not, but the album is positioned so Linda Ronstadt's eye line is directed right at your crotch when you're standing there taking a leak. It also helps that she's smiling so big. It's a nice little pick-me-up. "Hey, like what you're seeing there, Linda?"

I'm just trying to remind me of those little things, like seeing a guys with obnoxious neon lights under his car hit a bump and watch them break. Or having some guy yell at you to watch where you're going only to, moments later, watch them walk right into a plate-glass window thinking it's an open door. Or noticing that the "Up with Trees" signs all over town are made of wood.

Or as I experienced today, having my boss chew my ass out over something, leave, than come back five minutes later to say, "Oh, it turns out you were right!"

I'll be trying to keep my eyes open from now on for moments like this. Perhaps irony will pull me out this time.