It's amusing to me, reading through my past posts about WoW, how this blog documents my infatuation/love/hate/apathy towards World of Warcraft. Maybe I'm thinking about it now since I'm waiting for the servers to get back running. I looked over some of my posts from beta, where I was like "THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER INVENTED EVER" and then from 2 years later, where I was filled with ennui, ready to quit, playing other things. I think, now, after playing solidly for 4 years, I can say it's a healthy mix of both.
Out of Hand has been through so much, since its inception. We had huge numbers, swelling to 200 members, with 20-25 people on at once, swinging back down to 3 active members, up again, down. We had various recruitment sweeps, where 20 people would join in a week, and massive exoduses, where 20 people would leave in a day.
It's been a wild ride, let me just say. Not that it's over, heh, but I think the guild has finally hit my happy place, which is where I envisioned it from it's inception. A casual group of loyal buddies, who have no expectations of each other, except companionship, conversation, and company. It's so small, the guild is very small now, with 6 active players, give or take, and it's perfect. No more managing revolutions, or being the glue that holds two or three warring cliques together. No more scheduling, or trying to appease the masses, because there are no more masses. Ahhhhh.
I log on every day, now, and I love it! No headaches, just me, my real sincere friends, and this game that knitted us together, and the whole thing for us to enjoy, without drama, or bullshit.
Now, if only the servers would come back, so I can get in an hour of prime playing.
11.18.2008
Winter!
It snowed this morning! Ok, ok, it didn't stick, but still, first flakes! I am such a 5 year old about snow. I know it won't get me out of work, or anything, but it's still magical. There's actually a lot of things to love about snow.
In this house, snow=money. Irv does snow removal, in the off season, so those are tiny dollar signs falling from the sky. When he's not home, especially at night, it's like a huge slumber party. We do all the stuff "Daddy" disdains. Alden and I order pizza with peppers and onions, sleep on the living room floor, and play video games all night. I usually wind up baking something, or making a huge "snow day" breakfast the next morning. I've turned it into what was once a very lonely and worrisome time, when I was pregnant, or when Alden was an infant, to a fun tradition. I do miss him, when he's gone, still. I can't sleep in our huge cold bed, which is why I opt for bunking on the living room floor, but since Alden has gotten old enough to hang out with, my inner child digs these snow days and nights even more. One nice thing is that he's not "over the road" much anymore. He's a heavy equipment operator, which means he hangs around in the shop, cleaning the parking lot there, in a big loader, and loading the trucks with salt. In the meantime, he hangs out in the warmth of the building, reading and answering the phones. Good deal. It's a big weight off my mind.
I'm really looking forward to this winter. I have a great vibe about it. Last year was very tight, financially. I don't know, we just weren't prepared for everything, and it was rough. This year, The Season was good, and we took extra pains to save up, and prepare for the economical worst. I'm proud of myself, and the family, and all the thing's we've managed to do to save us money. We put away a good chunk, to carry us through, and it feels good.
Irv generally gets depressed around October, about the onset of winter, and the ending of The Season, but this year, he seems more optimistic, which makes for a nicer vibe all around. No anxiety, no fighting, no real dark days around Halloween and his birthday, like usual. One thing that helps is that he has plans. He's been busy as all hell revamping his garage, making it into a functional, heated, mancave. He can go out there, and listen to his music, putter around, build things, break things, or just go be a smelly, busy man. He never really had that, before. He's always had the garage, but till recently, there were no lights or heat out there, and it was just a dank storage area. I think he needs projects, and now he has a place to do them. He's got lists and lists of future projects, about 10% of them will ever see fruition, but as long as his mind and hands are busy, during the off season, he's a happy guy. When he's happy, I'm happy, and when mama is happy, EVERYONE is happy. It's a self-perpetuating cycle!
In this house, snow=money. Irv does snow removal, in the off season, so those are tiny dollar signs falling from the sky. When he's not home, especially at night, it's like a huge slumber party. We do all the stuff "Daddy" disdains. Alden and I order pizza with peppers and onions, sleep on the living room floor, and play video games all night. I usually wind up baking something, or making a huge "snow day" breakfast the next morning. I've turned it into what was once a very lonely and worrisome time, when I was pregnant, or when Alden was an infant, to a fun tradition. I do miss him, when he's gone, still. I can't sleep in our huge cold bed, which is why I opt for bunking on the living room floor, but since Alden has gotten old enough to hang out with, my inner child digs these snow days and nights even more. One nice thing is that he's not "over the road" much anymore. He's a heavy equipment operator, which means he hangs around in the shop, cleaning the parking lot there, in a big loader, and loading the trucks with salt. In the meantime, he hangs out in the warmth of the building, reading and answering the phones. Good deal. It's a big weight off my mind.
I'm really looking forward to this winter. I have a great vibe about it. Last year was very tight, financially. I don't know, we just weren't prepared for everything, and it was rough. This year, The Season was good, and we took extra pains to save up, and prepare for the economical worst. I'm proud of myself, and the family, and all the thing's we've managed to do to save us money. We put away a good chunk, to carry us through, and it feels good.
Irv generally gets depressed around October, about the onset of winter, and the ending of The Season, but this year, he seems more optimistic, which makes for a nicer vibe all around. No anxiety, no fighting, no real dark days around Halloween and his birthday, like usual. One thing that helps is that he has plans. He's been busy as all hell revamping his garage, making it into a functional, heated, mancave. He can go out there, and listen to his music, putter around, build things, break things, or just go be a smelly, busy man. He never really had that, before. He's always had the garage, but till recently, there were no lights or heat out there, and it was just a dank storage area. I think he needs projects, and now he has a place to do them. He's got lists and lists of future projects, about 10% of them will ever see fruition, but as long as his mind and hands are busy, during the off season, he's a happy guy. When he's happy, I'm happy, and when mama is happy, EVERYONE is happy. It's a self-perpetuating cycle!
11.16.2008
Looking forward.
It feels so good, to sit in a clean, quiet, darkened house. It's the close of a bustling weekend, and my to-do list got done! Now, how often can I say that? House, cleaned, food shopped for, lists made, decisions decided on, packages packed, and loaded into the car for mailing.
My dad's coming to visit, Thursday, he's staying for Thanksgiving. We spent the whole weekend cleaning, and making ready. For his visit, to a degree, but for the holidays, too. There's nothing like starting the official Holiday Season, with a clean house, a full pantry, and a buncha to-do lists. I love having my shit together, menus, gifts, schedules, it really takes any potential stress out of the next month or so.
I seem to blog a lot about my dad visiting, but it's always a flurry of activity, and sort of a bittersweet thing. Bitter because I only see him twice a year, if that, and we're close. Bitter, because he's getting older, and he's starting act it. Bitter, because I desperately want him to move back to the States, so we can go on road trips, to visit them, and so I can take care of him. Sweet, for a million reasons, and for all the obvious reasons, he's my dad, he's wise, funny, he and I have all these odd quirks in common. I really want him to move back here, and be present in Alden's life. Every time he's here, he makes a huge impact on the kid, and I think Alden could use more of his wisdom and guidance in his life. God knows my dad got me flying straight, when I was in my teens.
It feels good, though, to have everything done already. I planned ahead this time, every meal, and any restaurant we may visit. My dad is prone to gout, and last time he was here, he had a flare up. This time I read up on it, and smartened up. I stocked up on all healthy foods, no pork or cured meats on the menu for the next week or so. We laid in a good supply of dried cherries and cherry juice, for preventative measures, too. Last time he was here, he was couch-ridden half the time, and it was kind of a bummer. I had bronchitis, so we were on the same sorry ass, convalescent page, pretty much. It was quality time, but not something I'd like to go through again.
My brother is going to be here for Thanksgiving too, which is pretty exciting. I love my little bro, we're about as close as siblings can be, despite the fact that we were rasied seperately. He just graduated Coast Guard boot camp, then A School, both with high honors, and got his first choice, for his tour. He's in San Juan, right now, and loving it. I'm bursting with pride, I literally can't stop beaming about him. He was always kind of a lump, growing up, watched too much TV, no real motivation, did 2 years of college without declaring a major, total island boy surfer duude (which was fine, I guess, if he was happy). Then, he went into the Coast Guard...whoa. It really changed his whole state of being, for the better. He stands straighter, talks smarter, just...I can't even explain it, but it's amazing. I feel like one of those Army recruiting commercials, but I understand them now. It really makes me happy when my friends and family find their path, and he did-and how.
The one thing that's going to be a hardship this Thanksgiving is spending time (or not) with my mother. Now, for the past 4 years, this is how it goes: They go to Atlantic City for Thanksgiving, and do the gambling/buffet thing. I cook at home for us, and a few close friends. My mother and stepdad always "get home early" and shows up roughly 20 minutes before dinner is on the table, and we have to set two extra places. It's nice. I cook, we get to spend a holiday together, without spending the whole long day together, and I get to eat good food.
THIS year, however, my dad will be around. They can barely stand to see each other in passing, and even that is not without it's digs, dirty looks, and general ugliness. I assumed that my mom would be making plans with my stepsiblings, and spending Thanksgiving with that side of the family...she informed me yesterday that she's not doing that, and just doesn't know where to go. Already, I feel bad. She doesn't cook, she kinda can't even cook like that anymore, what with the bypass and all. She's being totally gracious and understanding, and is looking forward to having a nice dinner with us on the weekend, after Dad leaves. Still, it's the day and all. To make matters worse, we made plans with my Aunt Lynne, who is a close friend of my mom's, and we sorta discluded them from the dinner. When I thought she had plans with my steps, it was fine. Now it's not fine. It's even a little depressing.
She should, by all rights, be there with us. My father cannot remain civil in her presence. Twenty five years...they've been divorced...and he still makes all these underhanded comments. My mother, up front, is a portrait of grace and charm. Later, she starts with the "wow, Bill gained a lot of wait, he looks so...old" comments. So, neither are without fault. Puts me in a weird place, even on normal visits, ones not involving holidays. My dad will stay for a week, my mom will stop by to drop off my son, or pick him up, or just to say hi, and I have to stand in the driveway to talk to her. She's understanding, though, she knows I see her every day.
PSA: Divorce is not any easier on adult children, if the parents in question still act like catty teenagers, in regards to each other.
Hopefully everything will work itself out smoothly. I'm counting on Aunt Lynne to smooth things over with my mother, in case she looks for an invite, and looking forward to the double-holidays, as it were. Looking forward to a lot of things!
My dad's coming to visit, Thursday, he's staying for Thanksgiving. We spent the whole weekend cleaning, and making ready. For his visit, to a degree, but for the holidays, too. There's nothing like starting the official Holiday Season, with a clean house, a full pantry, and a buncha to-do lists. I love having my shit together, menus, gifts, schedules, it really takes any potential stress out of the next month or so.
I seem to blog a lot about my dad visiting, but it's always a flurry of activity, and sort of a bittersweet thing. Bitter because I only see him twice a year, if that, and we're close. Bitter, because he's getting older, and he's starting act it. Bitter, because I desperately want him to move back to the States, so we can go on road trips, to visit them, and so I can take care of him. Sweet, for a million reasons, and for all the obvious reasons, he's my dad, he's wise, funny, he and I have all these odd quirks in common. I really want him to move back here, and be present in Alden's life. Every time he's here, he makes a huge impact on the kid, and I think Alden could use more of his wisdom and guidance in his life. God knows my dad got me flying straight, when I was in my teens.
It feels good, though, to have everything done already. I planned ahead this time, every meal, and any restaurant we may visit. My dad is prone to gout, and last time he was here, he had a flare up. This time I read up on it, and smartened up. I stocked up on all healthy foods, no pork or cured meats on the menu for the next week or so. We laid in a good supply of dried cherries and cherry juice, for preventative measures, too. Last time he was here, he was couch-ridden half the time, and it was kind of a bummer. I had bronchitis, so we were on the same sorry ass, convalescent page, pretty much. It was quality time, but not something I'd like to go through again.
My brother is going to be here for Thanksgiving too, which is pretty exciting. I love my little bro, we're about as close as siblings can be, despite the fact that we were rasied seperately. He just graduated Coast Guard boot camp, then A School, both with high honors, and got his first choice, for his tour. He's in San Juan, right now, and loving it. I'm bursting with pride, I literally can't stop beaming about him. He was always kind of a lump, growing up, watched too much TV, no real motivation, did 2 years of college without declaring a major, total island boy surfer duude (which was fine, I guess, if he was happy). Then, he went into the Coast Guard...whoa. It really changed his whole state of being, for the better. He stands straighter, talks smarter, just...I can't even explain it, but it's amazing. I feel like one of those Army recruiting commercials, but I understand them now. It really makes me happy when my friends and family find their path, and he did-and how.
The one thing that's going to be a hardship this Thanksgiving is spending time (or not) with my mother. Now, for the past 4 years, this is how it goes: They go to Atlantic City for Thanksgiving, and do the gambling/buffet thing. I cook at home for us, and a few close friends. My mother and stepdad always "get home early" and shows up roughly 20 minutes before dinner is on the table, and we have to set two extra places. It's nice. I cook, we get to spend a holiday together, without spending the whole long day together, and I get to eat good food.
THIS year, however, my dad will be around. They can barely stand to see each other in passing, and even that is not without it's digs, dirty looks, and general ugliness. I assumed that my mom would be making plans with my stepsiblings, and spending Thanksgiving with that side of the family...she informed me yesterday that she's not doing that, and just doesn't know where to go. Already, I feel bad. She doesn't cook, she kinda can't even cook like that anymore, what with the bypass and all. She's being totally gracious and understanding, and is looking forward to having a nice dinner with us on the weekend, after Dad leaves. Still, it's the day and all. To make matters worse, we made plans with my Aunt Lynne, who is a close friend of my mom's, and we sorta discluded them from the dinner. When I thought she had plans with my steps, it was fine. Now it's not fine. It's even a little depressing.
She should, by all rights, be there with us. My father cannot remain civil in her presence. Twenty five years...they've been divorced...and he still makes all these underhanded comments. My mother, up front, is a portrait of grace and charm. Later, she starts with the "wow, Bill gained a lot of wait, he looks so...old" comments. So, neither are without fault. Puts me in a weird place, even on normal visits, ones not involving holidays. My dad will stay for a week, my mom will stop by to drop off my son, or pick him up, or just to say hi, and I have to stand in the driveway to talk to her. She's understanding, though, she knows I see her every day.
PSA: Divorce is not any easier on adult children, if the parents in question still act like catty teenagers, in regards to each other.
Hopefully everything will work itself out smoothly. I'm counting on Aunt Lynne to smooth things over with my mother, in case she looks for an invite, and looking forward to the double-holidays, as it were. Looking forward to a lot of things!
11.15.2008
Oh...congratulations...
Close friend calls today, all bubbling over, with excitement. She couldn't wait to tell me! She got a doggie! She's been wanting an English Bulldog for about a week, so I call this an impulse buy. I mean, two weeks ago, we had to dogsit for her other two dogs, and they were a horror show...not trained, not housebroken, and she was at her wits end with THOSE.
So, she calls me last week, asking if I knew where to get one, so I urged her to check in with local rescues, and the local shelters. She was like "mm, too much trouble" To get a dog? To get a companion that's going to live with you for the next 15 years? I mean...you go at least test drive a car, right?
Well, she called today, and couldn't contain the news, she got her bulldog! I was like, "wow, so fast, where did you get him?" Long story short, they got him at a pet store. A puppy mill pet store. I could barely keep the revulsion out of my voice.
I cannot BELIEVE the ignorance of some people, these people call themselves educated, well read, etc, and they had to rush right out to the nearest sleazy pet store and get a puppy mill garbage dog. That is a shame, shame shame. I stopped even trying to sound happy for her. (let's face it, they have two untrained dogs in a small rental house, they both work 8 hours a day, with the dogs in an overly small crate all day...I think they should look into rehoming the two they have, so I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the idea of a new dog.) So, I'm disgusted. The damn dog cost $2400. They're not wealthy people, though they spend money like they are.
There are so many things wrong with all this, I can't even get my mind around it. All I know is that next time we hang out with them, it is going to be very hard to be all smily and happy for their new addition. I feel bad for that dog, and the other two, and I feel outraged that they are keeping puppy mills in business by shelling out ludicrous amounts of cash for a dog.
So, she calls me last week, asking if I knew where to get one, so I urged her to check in with local rescues, and the local shelters. She was like "mm, too much trouble" To get a dog? To get a companion that's going to live with you for the next 15 years? I mean...you go at least test drive a car, right?
Well, she called today, and couldn't contain the news, she got her bulldog! I was like, "wow, so fast, where did you get him?" Long story short, they got him at a pet store. A puppy mill pet store. I could barely keep the revulsion out of my voice.
I cannot BELIEVE the ignorance of some people, these people call themselves educated, well read, etc, and they had to rush right out to the nearest sleazy pet store and get a puppy mill garbage dog. That is a shame, shame shame. I stopped even trying to sound happy for her. (let's face it, they have two untrained dogs in a small rental house, they both work 8 hours a day, with the dogs in an overly small crate all day...I think they should look into rehoming the two they have, so I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the idea of a new dog.) So, I'm disgusted. The damn dog cost $2400. They're not wealthy people, though they spend money like they are.
There are so many things wrong with all this, I can't even get my mind around it. All I know is that next time we hang out with them, it is going to be very hard to be all smily and happy for their new addition. I feel bad for that dog, and the other two, and I feel outraged that they are keeping puppy mills in business by shelling out ludicrous amounts of cash for a dog.
5.01.2008
Alone?
I look at the clock. It's on my side today. I have fully three hours of time to myself, in the house. This is a rare and wonderful treat. What do I do, what do I usually do?
It might be suprising, but in this order: Porn. Chocolate. Reading.
Yep, you heard me. I check out my favorite sex blogs, dealing with suprising topics ranging from call girls and strippers, to femdom, to the searing hot fantasies of a "normal" housewife type. Maybe if I'm still feeling frisky, I'll head over to Literotica. Good stuff. Call it a guilty pleasure, but it's such a rare treat.
Then comes chocolate (or other appropriately naughty snack which I refuse to share). Now see, whenever I'm in the house and I get the munchies, I find something reasonably healthy to snack on. Whenever I snack, 95% of the time, some male will wander into the room and cop a handful, a taste, a bite, or just straight up ask me to make some more. Well, fuck that, some things I ain't sharing.
Reading. Books. At home. During the DAY! Pure unadulterated luxury. If I'm not home alone, and I attempt to read something more engaging than websites or a cookbook, well...strike that, because I don't. In this house "book open in front of me" is equal to "Lili is interested in listening to you prattle on about whatever, and wants to give you her undivided attention".
My alone time is over now. The house is filled with people again, bustling and verging on loud. Alone time is a memory, now. At least I have this blog as a momento!
It might be suprising, but in this order: Porn. Chocolate. Reading.
Yep, you heard me. I check out my favorite sex blogs, dealing with suprising topics ranging from call girls and strippers, to femdom, to the searing hot fantasies of a "normal" housewife type. Maybe if I'm still feeling frisky, I'll head over to Literotica. Good stuff. Call it a guilty pleasure, but it's such a rare treat.
Then comes chocolate (or other appropriately naughty snack which I refuse to share). Now see, whenever I'm in the house and I get the munchies, I find something reasonably healthy to snack on. Whenever I snack, 95% of the time, some male will wander into the room and cop a handful, a taste, a bite, or just straight up ask me to make some more. Well, fuck that, some things I ain't sharing.
Reading. Books. At home. During the DAY! Pure unadulterated luxury. If I'm not home alone, and I attempt to read something more engaging than websites or a cookbook, well...strike that, because I don't. In this house "book open in front of me" is equal to "Lili is interested in listening to you prattle on about whatever, and wants to give you her undivided attention".
My alone time is over now. The house is filled with people again, bustling and verging on loud. Alone time is a memory, now. At least I have this blog as a momento!
1.11.2008
Bubblehead (or, I'm so mistanthropic)
Is it wrong to not want to be friends with someone because they’re just too dumb? We’re hanging out with girl, someone I lost touch with (sorta deliberately), one of Phil’s exes tonight. She’s sweet, but exceedingly boring, and tiresome to spend any amount of time with. Irv gets a Myspace, and now all of a sudden, he’s mister social butterfly talking to all these girls (which is fine, in and of itself) but to foist them on me is somewhat annoying. I don’t mind her, and I don’t mind going out to dinner or hanging out once in awhile, but I can’t see myself forging the deep bonds of friendship with someone who can’t even hold a phone conversation.
She calls me, just to confirm that we’re hanging out, but I can’t get a word edgewise, because she’s giggling endlessly.
Her: “hehehehehehehehehehe we haven’t hung out in so long hehehehehheehhehehe”
Me: “Yeah, it’ll be great to hang out tonight, what did you feel like doing? Wanna go get some food or something.”
Her: “hehehehhehehehehehe I don’t know”.
Me: “ok, well, we’ll decide when you get here” “hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe ok!”
So, I’m hanging out with her, and her equally dumb yet twice as narcissistic sister, and they’re over an hour late. I’m getting steadily drunker, and tonight is gonna be a fiasco if the airheads don’t turn up soon.
I’m not judgemental, I won’t -not- hang out with her, but I can’t see myself working too hard to preserve this friendship. Irv does, for some reason, though, he’s such a sap.
She calls me, just to confirm that we’re hanging out, but I can’t get a word edgewise, because she’s giggling endlessly.
Her: “hehehehehehehehehehe we haven’t hung out in so long hehehehehheehhehehe”
Me: “Yeah, it’ll be great to hang out tonight, what did you feel like doing? Wanna go get some food or something.”
Her: “hehehehhehehehehehe I don’t know”.
Me: “ok, well, we’ll decide when you get here” “hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe ok!”
So, I’m hanging out with her, and her equally dumb yet twice as narcissistic sister, and they’re over an hour late. I’m getting steadily drunker, and tonight is gonna be a fiasco if the airheads don’t turn up soon.
I’m not judgemental, I won’t -not- hang out with her, but I can’t see myself working too hard to preserve this friendship. Irv does, for some reason, though, he’s such a sap.
9.14.2006
My Karma is running me over.
That's about how I feel, right now. I'm not sure what I did recently to deserve this dose of yuck, but goddamn. This weird blight thing is looking like a Staph infection. Staph scares me, but it's treatable, I'm taking antibiotics, right now.
I fell down the last three steps, just a few minutes ago, and twisted the everlovingfuck out of my knee.
I'm tired but I can't sleep. Bored, but I can't read. Annoyed with certain people living in my house, who think World of Warcraft makes a great life career ("I only played seven hours today...what, I was taking a break...") I'm. Just. Pissy.
Seems like every nerve ending on my body is singing with some kind of pain, and or itching.
I need to get well. I need to get away for a little while.
On the up side, I started classes, today. I'm really enthusiastic about them both. The writing class looks to be difficult, but in a good way. The music/history class is a riot, the professors are fantastic, funny, old hippies. The writing professor is really a history/philosophy prof, but he's teaching the writing class, because like he said "I do enough of this shit on a day-to-day, that I'm qualified to teach it." Think Donald Sutherland in Animal House. Not the scene where he's padding across the kitchen bareassed, but the scene where he's like "do you want to smoke some pot?".
Maybe I twisted my knee, because I was thinking impure thoughts about my relatively hot writing teacher. Or, maybe I'm just clumsy with the tendancy to overanalyze everything...
I fell down the last three steps, just a few minutes ago, and twisted the everlovingfuck out of my knee.
I'm tired but I can't sleep. Bored, but I can't read. Annoyed with certain people living in my house, who think World of Warcraft makes a great life career ("I only played seven hours today...what, I was taking a break...") I'm. Just. Pissy.
Seems like every nerve ending on my body is singing with some kind of pain, and or itching.
I need to get well. I need to get away for a little while.
On the up side, I started classes, today. I'm really enthusiastic about them both. The writing class looks to be difficult, but in a good way. The music/history class is a riot, the professors are fantastic, funny, old hippies. The writing professor is really a history/philosophy prof, but he's teaching the writing class, because like he said "I do enough of this shit on a day-to-day, that I'm qualified to teach it." Think Donald Sutherland in Animal House. Not the scene where he's padding across the kitchen bareassed, but the scene where he's like "do you want to smoke some pot?".
Maybe I twisted my knee, because I was thinking impure thoughts about my relatively hot writing teacher. Or, maybe I'm just clumsy with the tendancy to overanalyze everything...
9.12.2006
Mostly good.
So, my dad is visiting, and it’s nice. Not earth shattering, but, nice. Nice to see him. Nice to have him hanging around. I really wish they lived closer. This once a year shit is getting to be a real strain, he’s getting older, missing Alden growing up, etc. Yesterday, I was housebound with some strange affliction (more on that later) and I cooked all day. The windows were open, September was breezing across the house, and I spent the whole day nurturing a Bolognese sauce, to later incorporate into some kickass lasagna. I even made a pie, for dessert. Music was playing low, Irv was home all day, and things couldn’t get more pleasant. I really wish we had more time like that, to spend. He commented, even that he wished we lived closer together, because we would have a great time cooking together. Today, Irv and Luiz decided to cut grass later in the afternoon and we went out all morning. We spent the time shopping, hanging around Red Bank, the requisite Elsie’s visit (best subs in NJ). Tomorrow I start classes, so it’ll be one of those “every person for themselves” sorta day.
So, yeah, having Dad around is nice.
Surrounding that, things have been weird. Sunday afternoon, I was walking around, in the garden, picking tomatoes and eggplant. A little later, at dinner, my face started to itch. By night time, my whole lower face, from my cheeks down to my neck, focused around my chin, everything was swollen beyond recognition. I downed Benadryl, and prayed for it to go away…it reduced somewhat, by Monday, but then my eyes swelled shut. One was just puffy, but the other eye was swelled closed. Cold compresses, more Benadryl…the swelling is almost gone, now, but I’m still generally puffy and itchy. I have a new one starting on my arm, today. My whole forearm…hard, painful, swollen, red/white, and itchy like a motherfucker. When the swelling goes down, there’s a tiny little itchy bug bite right in the center. I had three on my face that I know of, and now one on my inner arm. This. Sucks.
More suckitivity. They shut off our power today, due to some ridiculous accounting error, on their part. Long, mundane story short, we had to pay something like $450 to get the power restored. On the upside, it was only off for about an hour. But, what the fuck…
So, yeah, having Dad around is nice.
Surrounding that, things have been weird. Sunday afternoon, I was walking around, in the garden, picking tomatoes and eggplant. A little later, at dinner, my face started to itch. By night time, my whole lower face, from my cheeks down to my neck, focused around my chin, everything was swollen beyond recognition. I downed Benadryl, and prayed for it to go away…it reduced somewhat, by Monday, but then my eyes swelled shut. One was just puffy, but the other eye was swelled closed. Cold compresses, more Benadryl…the swelling is almost gone, now, but I’m still generally puffy and itchy. I have a new one starting on my arm, today. My whole forearm…hard, painful, swollen, red/white, and itchy like a motherfucker. When the swelling goes down, there’s a tiny little itchy bug bite right in the center. I had three on my face that I know of, and now one on my inner arm. This. Sucks.
More suckitivity. They shut off our power today, due to some ridiculous accounting error, on their part. Long, mundane story short, we had to pay something like $450 to get the power restored. On the upside, it was only off for about an hour. But, what the fuck…
9.08.2006
Wolfboy and his puppies
Mm, I ran into Wolfboy, today.
I didn't recognize him, at first, he shaved his head, put on a few lbs. and grew some facial hair. I mean, it has been 8+ years...last time I saw him, he was stalking Irv and I through Pathmark, snarling. Irv and I were laughing...it was laughable.
So, he cruses up to me, at the school, and starts chatting. I start chatting back, thinking to myself "I know this guy...who is this guy...we used to hang out" Then, it hit me..it's Mark! At first, I felt all awkward, but then we started talking about our kids, and old friends, and stuff, and it was remarkably friendly, and pleasant. And, so ordinary!
I had to break up with him, because he thought he was a warewolf. He also had skinhead tendencies, and I hate that shit. He was a big poser, though, because he didn't really disrespect anyone, he just saw a few skinhead movies and thought they were really cool. But, he was crazy...he really did think he was this powerful, rippling muscled warewolf. He would howl at the full moon, and writhe around "changing" and, at the time, I was both afraid of him (not because he would tear me up, but because he was genuinely crazy) and sad for him. He was also sexually neurotic. He disliked fluids, he didn't like wetness, or sweat, or any natural sex-type-excretion. He wouldn't touch me, and it took him an hour of frantic concentrating to get off. I see he has three kids now, so probably he got over that little quirk.
But, I loved him, genuinely. We had so SO much stuff in common...I think we would have been better as friends, and never tried to be a couple. I had a few relationships like that. It was a nice easy conversation, talking about old friends, seeing people that are still around, etc.
I feel bad about the breakup, still. I was such a bitch when I was younger. I met another guy, a normal, athletic, smokin' hot artist-type, who was a tai-kwon-do champion, he was an Olympic hopeful, trained at the top school in NJ. After dealing with Mark's quirks, and his crying, and dealing with being his mommy, and his jealousy, pseudo-racisim, wolfyness...I just was totally in love with this other guy, and dumped Mark on the spot. In a letter.
I feel bad, because we'd had a huge fight, a few weeks, before, and he was getting better. It was one of those huge "sitting on the kitchen floor, clutching each other, crying, promising to make it better" fights. And, he got so much better, he turned into superboyfriend. Then, I broke up with him. He was all suicidal..calling me, crying... I was such a shit.
So, yeah, that's what I thought about, today, seeing Mark. He's still hot, though. His kid is adorable, and his wife is cute, and I'm thrilled that he's normal, now, or relatively normal, at least.
Of course, "the girls" Darlene, Angela, Sue, and Ronnie, all had to rib me.
I look forward to seeing him and his family again, we still seem to have all that stuff in common, he's still all metal, and I could use some more metal friends. I would love if Alden and his kid started hanging out.
I wonder if he still howls at the moon.
I didn't recognize him, at first, he shaved his head, put on a few lbs. and grew some facial hair. I mean, it has been 8+ years...last time I saw him, he was stalking Irv and I through Pathmark, snarling. Irv and I were laughing...it was laughable.
So, he cruses up to me, at the school, and starts chatting. I start chatting back, thinking to myself "I know this guy...who is this guy...we used to hang out" Then, it hit me..it's Mark! At first, I felt all awkward, but then we started talking about our kids, and old friends, and stuff, and it was remarkably friendly, and pleasant. And, so ordinary!
I had to break up with him, because he thought he was a warewolf. He also had skinhead tendencies, and I hate that shit. He was a big poser, though, because he didn't really disrespect anyone, he just saw a few skinhead movies and thought they were really cool. But, he was crazy...he really did think he was this powerful, rippling muscled warewolf. He would howl at the full moon, and writhe around "changing" and, at the time, I was both afraid of him (not because he would tear me up, but because he was genuinely crazy) and sad for him. He was also sexually neurotic. He disliked fluids, he didn't like wetness, or sweat, or any natural sex-type-excretion. He wouldn't touch me, and it took him an hour of frantic concentrating to get off. I see he has three kids now, so probably he got over that little quirk.
But, I loved him, genuinely. We had so SO much stuff in common...I think we would have been better as friends, and never tried to be a couple. I had a few relationships like that. It was a nice easy conversation, talking about old friends, seeing people that are still around, etc.
I feel bad about the breakup, still. I was such a bitch when I was younger. I met another guy, a normal, athletic, smokin' hot artist-type, who was a tai-kwon-do champion, he was an Olympic hopeful, trained at the top school in NJ. After dealing with Mark's quirks, and his crying, and dealing with being his mommy, and his jealousy, pseudo-racisim, wolfyness...I just was totally in love with this other guy, and dumped Mark on the spot. In a letter.
I feel bad, because we'd had a huge fight, a few weeks, before, and he was getting better. It was one of those huge "sitting on the kitchen floor, clutching each other, crying, promising to make it better" fights. And, he got so much better, he turned into superboyfriend. Then, I broke up with him. He was all suicidal..calling me, crying... I was such a shit.
So, yeah, that's what I thought about, today, seeing Mark. He's still hot, though. His kid is adorable, and his wife is cute, and I'm thrilled that he's normal, now, or relatively normal, at least.
Of course, "the girls" Darlene, Angela, Sue, and Ronnie, all had to rib me.
I look forward to seeing him and his family again, we still seem to have all that stuff in common, he's still all metal, and I could use some more metal friends. I would love if Alden and his kid started hanging out.
I wonder if he still howls at the moon.
9.07.2006
Stuff..
We have so much shit to do...my Dad's gonna be here in 3 days, and I wanted to get so much done. Not that he cares, of course, house tidiness only marginally registers on his personal meter...I just feel better. If we can't get motivated to tidy up the bookshelves, and mop the back half of the house for him visiting, I give up hope for getting motivated to do it, at all. One of those things. Though, It's 7:30, and I'm really sleepy right now. After I get home from taking Alden to school, I hope I can find it in myself not to pass out on the living room floor, like I did yesterday...
Luiz is no help. I tell him the night before...k, we're getting up early, go to bed at a normal time. He doesn't, and is a pain in the ass to wake up. I give up in the middle of trying to wake him up, and get all slackass, myself. It's such a cycle.
Oh, how I would love to be sleeping now.
Luiz is no help. I tell him the night before...k, we're getting up early, go to bed at a normal time. He doesn't, and is a pain in the ass to wake up. I give up in the middle of trying to wake him up, and get all slackass, myself. It's such a cycle.
Oh, how I would love to be sleeping now.
9.06.2006
Blogging about blogging
A little metablogging, here.
I stopped, because I thought my life wasn't exciting enough to blog about. Then, I miss it, because it's not about readership, being interesting, or trying to entertain people...but blogging is my therapy, lining up the thoughts, getting them down, pouring it out. I've always been more articulate in text than in speech, and ranting about stuff to an audience (willing or unwilling) with my voice just doesn't cut it. In fact, when I do, I often find myself getting more worked up, because just finding words to express myself can be frustrating. Or, worrying if I'm making sense or not. I think faster than I talk, so I stammer and fumble over my words, and I speak very fast. Typing slows that whole process down, and makes me inventory my mind, in a way.
So, this is therapy. I'm quite sure all my readers are gone, thank god.
Plus, the whole "gee, I'm sorry I took a week off from posting, I'll be better" thing really stinks. I type when I have things to type about. If I feel like I have to make updates, FOR people...guess what, I avoid it all together. This isn't for PEOPLE. This is for ME.
It's all about me, baby.
I'm tired, hungry, and I think I'm getting sick. My dad is gonna be here in 4 days, and it -still- looks like a bomb hit the house. I can't get anybody to do anything, except play games and watch TV. I'm really close to having one of Those Days, where I flip out, and everyone gets a little scared. That might be what we need.
Damn, it feels good to whine.
I stopped, because I thought my life wasn't exciting enough to blog about. Then, I miss it, because it's not about readership, being interesting, or trying to entertain people...but blogging is my therapy, lining up the thoughts, getting them down, pouring it out. I've always been more articulate in text than in speech, and ranting about stuff to an audience (willing or unwilling) with my voice just doesn't cut it. In fact, when I do, I often find myself getting more worked up, because just finding words to express myself can be frustrating. Or, worrying if I'm making sense or not. I think faster than I talk, so I stammer and fumble over my words, and I speak very fast. Typing slows that whole process down, and makes me inventory my mind, in a way.
So, this is therapy. I'm quite sure all my readers are gone, thank god.
Plus, the whole "gee, I'm sorry I took a week off from posting, I'll be better" thing really stinks. I type when I have things to type about. If I feel like I have to make updates, FOR people...guess what, I avoid it all together. This isn't for PEOPLE. This is for ME.
It's all about me, baby.
I'm tired, hungry, and I think I'm getting sick. My dad is gonna be here in 4 days, and it -still- looks like a bomb hit the house. I can't get anybody to do anything, except play games and watch TV. I'm really close to having one of Those Days, where I flip out, and everyone gets a little scared. That might be what we need.
Damn, it feels good to whine.
What else?
So, school started back up, for Alden.
The week prior, I was alternately excited for him, because I loved the first days of school, and worried. I've been trying to get him to read all summer long, and he's been uninterested, at best. I'd have him grab a book, and sit next to me on the couch, while we read together, for half hour blocks. He would, grudgingly, but I found out too late in the summer that he was sitting there staring into space for the duration. I started testing him on what he said he was reading, and he would stare blankly. So, the past few weeks, we were actively reading out loud, and I was giving him written Q&A on the material he read...I was dismayed at his progress, or lack thereof. In fact, he's gone backwards, this summer.
Today was the second day, and already his teacher had to see me after class, and show me an assignment that he didn't finish. He had to write a paragraph, on the most memorable thing he did, this summer... Not only did he not even do that, he destroyed the paper, in the process. Second day of school, and he's the only kid with homework. I was unhappy, to say the least. His teacher lectured him, on the spot. I lectured him all the way home, where my mother was hanging out in the driveway, she let him have it too. Irv came home briefly to pick up Luiz and the trailer, and Irv yelled at him. On his way out, Luiz also let Alden know how dissapointed he was.
I had to ask, after we got inside, and everyone was gone..."Alden, do you like this? Do you like your entire family so dissapointed with you? Is this how it's gonna be for the next 179 days?" He doesn't like it, but apparently that prospect didn't have enough impact to get him going, either. Starting at 4:00 I gave him a half hour to brainstorm an idea for his paragraph. He didn't do it in time. I took away his privelages for the rest of the day. I gave him till 5. He finished it by 5. I gave him 45 minutes to write a first draft (in my house, every writing assignment goes in drafts, without exception) of seven sentences...this isn't brain surgery, he's eight years old. 45 minutes, seven sentences. He didn't finish. He lost tomorrow's privileges too. Instead, I watched him line up erasers like cars, move his paper around till it was perfectly even to the bottom of the table, stare off into space, pick his toes, etc. Left alone, with no company and no outside stimuli, he would rather do nothing, than get his job done. I gave him till 6:30 to finish it, final copy, and all. He failed that too. He lost privileges till Thursday of next week. Losing privileges means no free time after school. He does his homework by a certain time, then his chores, then extra ones that I think of, then he sits with me, and reads his book, aloud (so I know he's not staring off into space). At 7 pm, he was going to lose them for 2 weeks, but he slid the paper in, one paragraph by 6:58.
I'm really distraught.
He's on a strict timetable, right now, with each stage of his day clocked out, he has to be. I hate living like this, I hate making him live like this, and I would never enact such strict measures, if I didn't think he needed it. He always gets a chance to prove himself, first, and he inevitably fucks up, forcing me to give him a strict, almost militaristic schedule.
Nothing seems to be getting through. No threat scares him. It got so bad, last year, we actually unplugged the TV and DVD player from his room, and removed it, for 6 months. We've taken everything away, till all he had was school, homework, chores, and sleep. Apparently, it still doesn't phase him. When life is good, which we get for brief windows, he gets lots of playtime, we have a huge yard, he has a thousand dollar swingset, xbox, ps2, endless movies, gameboy, and...he goes 70% of his life merely staring at these things longingly, as he screws another day away, taking 4 hours to finish what could be done in 15 minutes.
Now, not every day is like this. When he wants to, he will gladly dash out an assignment in 20 minutes. If he's interested in the work, or just feels like doing it. He reads ok still has a bit of trouble with comprehension, and he writes well. He has a vast understanding of sciences and interest in mathmatical stuff. If he were stupid, I could accept his issues, I would understand and work around it. The fact that he's not, makes this stuff all the more difficult.
Right now, I'm sitting here recovering from a slamming headache. This year cannot go on like this.
The week prior, I was alternately excited for him, because I loved the first days of school, and worried. I've been trying to get him to read all summer long, and he's been uninterested, at best. I'd have him grab a book, and sit next to me on the couch, while we read together, for half hour blocks. He would, grudgingly, but I found out too late in the summer that he was sitting there staring into space for the duration. I started testing him on what he said he was reading, and he would stare blankly. So, the past few weeks, we were actively reading out loud, and I was giving him written Q&A on the material he read...I was dismayed at his progress, or lack thereof. In fact, he's gone backwards, this summer.
Today was the second day, and already his teacher had to see me after class, and show me an assignment that he didn't finish. He had to write a paragraph, on the most memorable thing he did, this summer... Not only did he not even do that, he destroyed the paper, in the process. Second day of school, and he's the only kid with homework. I was unhappy, to say the least. His teacher lectured him, on the spot. I lectured him all the way home, where my mother was hanging out in the driveway, she let him have it too. Irv came home briefly to pick up Luiz and the trailer, and Irv yelled at him. On his way out, Luiz also let Alden know how dissapointed he was.
I had to ask, after we got inside, and everyone was gone..."Alden, do you like this? Do you like your entire family so dissapointed with you? Is this how it's gonna be for the next 179 days?" He doesn't like it, but apparently that prospect didn't have enough impact to get him going, either. Starting at 4:00 I gave him a half hour to brainstorm an idea for his paragraph. He didn't do it in time. I took away his privelages for the rest of the day. I gave him till 5. He finished it by 5. I gave him 45 minutes to write a first draft (in my house, every writing assignment goes in drafts, without exception) of seven sentences...this isn't brain surgery, he's eight years old. 45 minutes, seven sentences. He didn't finish. He lost tomorrow's privileges too. Instead, I watched him line up erasers like cars, move his paper around till it was perfectly even to the bottom of the table, stare off into space, pick his toes, etc. Left alone, with no company and no outside stimuli, he would rather do nothing, than get his job done. I gave him till 6:30 to finish it, final copy, and all. He failed that too. He lost privileges till Thursday of next week. Losing privileges means no free time after school. He does his homework by a certain time, then his chores, then extra ones that I think of, then he sits with me, and reads his book, aloud (so I know he's not staring off into space). At 7 pm, he was going to lose them for 2 weeks, but he slid the paper in, one paragraph by 6:58.
I'm really distraught.
He's on a strict timetable, right now, with each stage of his day clocked out, he has to be. I hate living like this, I hate making him live like this, and I would never enact such strict measures, if I didn't think he needed it. He always gets a chance to prove himself, first, and he inevitably fucks up, forcing me to give him a strict, almost militaristic schedule.
Nothing seems to be getting through. No threat scares him. It got so bad, last year, we actually unplugged the TV and DVD player from his room, and removed it, for 6 months. We've taken everything away, till all he had was school, homework, chores, and sleep. Apparently, it still doesn't phase him. When life is good, which we get for brief windows, he gets lots of playtime, we have a huge yard, he has a thousand dollar swingset, xbox, ps2, endless movies, gameboy, and...he goes 70% of his life merely staring at these things longingly, as he screws another day away, taking 4 hours to finish what could be done in 15 minutes.
Now, not every day is like this. When he wants to, he will gladly dash out an assignment in 20 minutes. If he's interested in the work, or just feels like doing it. He reads ok still has a bit of trouble with comprehension, and he writes well. He has a vast understanding of sciences and interest in mathmatical stuff. If he were stupid, I could accept his issues, I would understand and work around it. The fact that he's not, makes this stuff all the more difficult.
Right now, I'm sitting here recovering from a slamming headache. This year cannot go on like this.
2.20.2006
Time to not bitch about WoW...
So, in that last WoW post, I lamented and pissed and moaned. I was verging on quitting the game, I started AC again (which, while prettier than it used to be, is still on the clunky side, compared to WoW...) etc. Well, as a last ditch attempt to rescue it, I played on my "vacation char" My paladin, Dawna, over on Twisting Nether. I created that char when the server opened, as a way to get away from the guild bustle, and have some peace, as well as a little world PvP (I loves me some PvP). Luiz started playing Leonorous, again, the char he made there, to hang out with me. We were having...FUN! Wee! Guilty fun...we'd left all of OOH behind. I made one post, on the forums, inviting everyone to join us (defying the very nature of a vacation char...) and the rest is history. Within one week, we had 15 people (mostly core OOH members, with a few new guys that we picked up along the way). We all started chars around the same time (I'm playing a priest now...weird), so the bulk of the guild (besides the original 2, Dawna and Leo) are between level 15 and 23. It's awesome. The guild is in full swing, with a tabard, and a decent crafting pool. We're back to being a little family, having full groups of people all doing the same thing, having from 5-10 people on every night. It feels like it did a year ago, when we were an upstart guild, but with better, more mature people, with a better chemistry. Hell, last night, we all qued up for the sub-20 Battlegrounds, with a full group, and got in within 5 minutes. And...WON. Being a priest in a PvP situation is definitely interesting.
When I'm not playing WoW, I managed to get Luiz into NWN, so I play HoTU solo, or I coach him. Last night, we multiplayered HotU, just so I could teach him the basics of the game. I gotta teach that boy that every game is not a fighting game, and sometimes it behooves you to read the text, and make enlightened choices. Sometimes, the object of the game is not to simply plow and fight through the levels. He's played way too much xBox in his day. His idea of a good game is 'winning' with the highest numbers, the best gear, the fastest mob-takedown. NWN isn't a fighting game, it's an RPG. He's new at the concept.
When I'm not playing WoW, I managed to get Luiz into NWN, so I play HoTU solo, or I coach him. Last night, we multiplayered HotU, just so I could teach him the basics of the game. I gotta teach that boy that every game is not a fighting game, and sometimes it behooves you to read the text, and make enlightened choices. Sometimes, the object of the game is not to simply plow and fight through the levels. He's played way too much xBox in his day. His idea of a good game is 'winning' with the highest numbers, the best gear, the fastest mob-takedown. NWN isn't a fighting game, it's an RPG. He's new at the concept.
2.19.2006
I Want to Kill Bill.
So, Irv's gotta stop hanging out with this skinhead guy. He's worse than a skinhead, this guy. He's a junkie, straight up. He makes skinheads look bad. He's a bigot, and mess. Irv works with him, this guy named Bill, and Bill is rubbing off on him.
When Bill first started working there, about 2 years ago, Irv hated him. Guys's a scumbag, racist, hates women, alcoholic, crackhead. He deals drugs out of county trucks, I could go on and on. Irv hated him. Over time, though, Bill kinda grew on Irv.
Bill's a funny guy (you know, when he isn't throwing bottles out the window of his truck, at Mexicans on bikes) he's the life of the party. He's charismatic! Irv used to hate Bill, then he tolerated him...lately, Irv's been hanging out with Bill. Listening to Bill spew hate filled racist bullshit. Listening to Bill regale him with tales of nightly bar brawls, and how he fucked this bitch, or did lines off this whore's ass. Oh, Bill is so funny! So cool! Bill makes prank calls to escort agencies, looking for, uh, women of color, then asks if he can shit on their chest! Oh, Irv thinks that's just a riot. The other night, Bill appeared at my door, so drunk he could barely stand up, with a bloody gash across his forehead. He wanted to see if Irv could come out to play. Irv asked, "one beer? Please?" Sure, go, go. They went to the bar across the street. 4 hours later, Irv came back, WASTED (I don't think I've ever even seen him this drunk) stinking of 'bar' and with stories of Bill and his Friends. I was a little pissed, as you might imagine. I just ignored him, when he walked in the door, and ordered him to shower that stink off (that bar REEKS, like worse than most. I mean most bars smell like cigarette smoke and stale booze, but Aders has this underlying smell of nasty old cheese). He passed out, etc, and the next morning we talked about it. He hasn't gone back out, like that, he knew it pissed me off. Bill pisses me off.
It's been building gradually, but stuff is happening that I can't ignore. Lately, Irv's been coming out with some shit that really pisses me off. I'll mention something, like "My mom's been talking to this Indian guy online, says he's a doctor, wants to take her out for Indian food...I think she'd hate Indian food..." His answer to that line of conversation was "Oh, he's probably not a doctor, you know all those Indian guys, so sleazy..." What the FUCK? Where the hell did that shit come from? I fucking yelled at him, told him to keep that stereotype-racist bullshit out of my house, and away from Alden. The other night, driving through Keansburg, he went on a tirade about the town being a welfare state, and how They ruined what was once a pretty shore town. He was just rattling on and on, till I told him to watch out, he almost hit a woman walking across the street...he was like "Heh, the town would pay me to take one out, that'll make my taxes this year 3/10 of a penny less. Hurhurhur"
It's fucking out of control.
Last night, there was this guy walking around the resturaunt we were at...ok, he looked a little rough, sorta rumpled, and dressed very poorly, dirty sweatshirt, but whatever. So, Irv had to run back in the place, after we left, because I thought I left my iPod behind. The guy was going out the in door, and bumped into Irv. Irv made a comment like "watch where you're going, jerkoff" and the guy stopped and challenged him. I'm all "walk away walk away walk away...let's go, he's a fucking idiot, let's just go". No. Irv, the BIG MAN had to get right up in his face, and posture, and say shit. I'm dragging Alden to the car...then the guy's friend shows up. Irv gets in both their faces, saying all this shit, like he's gonna DO SOMETHING. (Right.) He's all staring them down, posturing, acting all tough... Seriously, he would have gotten his ass kicked. The guys noticed Alden and I standing there, and was like "Look at you, fucking acting like this in front of your wife and kid, let's go, I don't want to kick this guy's ass in front of his boy" and they left, with Irv shouting after them the whole time. I swear, if I had the keys, I would have hopped in the car and left him there. I was actually embarassed.
It's Bill. Irv...never fights, anymore (not that I've seen, ever...hell, you know my history, even when it COUNTED, he wouldn't jump in and fight, not even to protect me.)
Bill needs to go. I heard he put in for a transfer, so that's good. Apparently, he can't drive down the road in Holmdel, without getting pulled over. Looks like he flipped off one too many Holmdel cops. Add that to his priors, and the fact that he's awaiting trial, for posession...Heh, I think Bill's leaving the district soon, one way or another. I wish he'd left 6 months ago.
Irv needs to control himself, again. I think I'm going to have a serious talk with Irv.
When Bill first started working there, about 2 years ago, Irv hated him. Guys's a scumbag, racist, hates women, alcoholic, crackhead. He deals drugs out of county trucks, I could go on and on. Irv hated him. Over time, though, Bill kinda grew on Irv.
Bill's a funny guy (you know, when he isn't throwing bottles out the window of his truck, at Mexicans on bikes) he's the life of the party. He's charismatic! Irv used to hate Bill, then he tolerated him...lately, Irv's been hanging out with Bill. Listening to Bill spew hate filled racist bullshit. Listening to Bill regale him with tales of nightly bar brawls, and how he fucked this bitch, or did lines off this whore's ass. Oh, Bill is so funny! So cool! Bill makes prank calls to escort agencies, looking for, uh, women of color, then asks if he can shit on their chest! Oh, Irv thinks that's just a riot. The other night, Bill appeared at my door, so drunk he could barely stand up, with a bloody gash across his forehead. He wanted to see if Irv could come out to play. Irv asked, "one beer? Please?" Sure, go, go. They went to the bar across the street. 4 hours later, Irv came back, WASTED (I don't think I've ever even seen him this drunk) stinking of 'bar' and with stories of Bill and his Friends. I was a little pissed, as you might imagine. I just ignored him, when he walked in the door, and ordered him to shower that stink off (that bar REEKS, like worse than most. I mean most bars smell like cigarette smoke and stale booze, but Aders has this underlying smell of nasty old cheese). He passed out, etc, and the next morning we talked about it. He hasn't gone back out, like that, he knew it pissed me off. Bill pisses me off.
It's been building gradually, but stuff is happening that I can't ignore. Lately, Irv's been coming out with some shit that really pisses me off. I'll mention something, like "My mom's been talking to this Indian guy online, says he's a doctor, wants to take her out for Indian food...I think she'd hate Indian food..." His answer to that line of conversation was "Oh, he's probably not a doctor, you know all those Indian guys, so sleazy..." What the FUCK? Where the hell did that shit come from? I fucking yelled at him, told him to keep that stereotype-racist bullshit out of my house, and away from Alden. The other night, driving through Keansburg, he went on a tirade about the town being a welfare state, and how They ruined what was once a pretty shore town. He was just rattling on and on, till I told him to watch out, he almost hit a woman walking across the street...he was like "Heh, the town would pay me to take one out, that'll make my taxes this year 3/10 of a penny less. Hurhurhur"
It's fucking out of control.
Last night, there was this guy walking around the resturaunt we were at...ok, he looked a little rough, sorta rumpled, and dressed very poorly, dirty sweatshirt, but whatever. So, Irv had to run back in the place, after we left, because I thought I left my iPod behind. The guy was going out the in door, and bumped into Irv. Irv made a comment like "watch where you're going, jerkoff" and the guy stopped and challenged him. I'm all "walk away walk away walk away...let's go, he's a fucking idiot, let's just go". No. Irv, the BIG MAN had to get right up in his face, and posture, and say shit. I'm dragging Alden to the car...then the guy's friend shows up. Irv gets in both their faces, saying all this shit, like he's gonna DO SOMETHING. (Right.) He's all staring them down, posturing, acting all tough... Seriously, he would have gotten his ass kicked. The guys noticed Alden and I standing there, and was like "Look at you, fucking acting like this in front of your wife and kid, let's go, I don't want to kick this guy's ass in front of his boy" and they left, with Irv shouting after them the whole time. I swear, if I had the keys, I would have hopped in the car and left him there. I was actually embarassed.
It's Bill. Irv...never fights, anymore (not that I've seen, ever...hell, you know my history, even when it COUNTED, he wouldn't jump in and fight, not even to protect me.)
Bill needs to go. I heard he put in for a transfer, so that's good. Apparently, he can't drive down the road in Holmdel, without getting pulled over. Looks like he flipped off one too many Holmdel cops. Add that to his priors, and the fact that he's awaiting trial, for posession...Heh, I think Bill's leaving the district soon, one way or another. I wish he'd left 6 months ago.
Irv needs to control himself, again. I think I'm going to have a serious talk with Irv.
2.06.2006
Time to bitch about WoW
I'm breaking this into chunks. I guess I did have stuff to talk about.
So, I've been playing for over a year. Remember how smitten I was? I was in deep smit. It was the best game ever (it's still damn good, don't get me wrong).
I've logged in maybe twice, in the past week, and they were under duress. No one is on anymore. When we once had 15-20 people on, during peak times, now we have 5-maybe. There's a wait to get on the server, that's well over an hour, at times. That's ruined it for a lot of us. We're grownups, we have lives. We only HAVE an hour to play, some nights. You log in, and see "You are #896, estimated wait time 1 hour 47 minutes" and...well fuck that. Fuuuck that. Especially because you know everyone else worth playing with logged in and went "whoa, 2 hours? fuck that!" and went off to greener pastures.
Then there's what to do, if you actually weather the wait. Let's see. We could get in and do [insert one of 5 level 60 instances that don't require 40 people here] for the 900th time. Or, we could play alts! Yay! Let's go through Redridge for the 50th time, or we could PvP in the Battlegrounds, and wait for 1-3 hours, to get in THAT game (because the 2 hours you waited through, to log in, clearly wasn't enough, you masochist). And, boy, its so worth the wait, when you get in, to have a little fun with killing other players...when the Horde afks out, and you get kicked RIGHt back out into the line, again! What? 2 hour wait, and we only got to play for 45 seconds! Awesome! *gets back in line*
How. Fucking. Annoying.
The game itself, mostly, isn't bad. It's good. Last night, I played on another server, on an anonymous alt, and I had fun *just* playing.
I have to find that, again, but on MY server, with MY people.
I can't help but take the game itself seriously. It's not about the game, it's about the people, I sincerely love the people I've met, there, and I pine for that level of friendship when I'm not in it. So, just the very nature, as in the game is the crucible for some of my friendships, I have to evaluate stuff, and try to make an effort, to play.
In the meantime,though, I'm about to stress test D&D Online. It looks like it'll be amusing, but definitely not The Next Big Thing. I also, in a fit of drunkenness, ordered AC's expansion. You remember AC? That game I played like 2-4 years ago? I've got this deep nostalgia for it, and I sense that it's mostly bullshit I've been working up in my mind. The game should be here tomorrowish. I'll put THAT bullshit to rest. Or, I'll end up falling in love with it all over again, and playing. Who knows? It's something to do.
Blizzard, make me love you again. Where did we go wrong?
So, I've been playing for over a year. Remember how smitten I was? I was in deep smit. It was the best game ever (it's still damn good, don't get me wrong).
I've logged in maybe twice, in the past week, and they were under duress. No one is on anymore. When we once had 15-20 people on, during peak times, now we have 5-maybe. There's a wait to get on the server, that's well over an hour, at times. That's ruined it for a lot of us. We're grownups, we have lives. We only HAVE an hour to play, some nights. You log in, and see "You are #896, estimated wait time 1 hour 47 minutes" and...well fuck that. Fuuuck that. Especially because you know everyone else worth playing with logged in and went "whoa, 2 hours? fuck that!" and went off to greener pastures.
Then there's what to do, if you actually weather the wait. Let's see. We could get in and do [insert one of 5 level 60 instances that don't require 40 people here] for the 900th time. Or, we could play alts! Yay! Let's go through Redridge for the 50th time, or we could PvP in the Battlegrounds, and wait for 1-3 hours, to get in THAT game (because the 2 hours you waited through, to log in, clearly wasn't enough, you masochist). And, boy, its so worth the wait, when you get in, to have a little fun with killing other players...when the Horde afks out, and you get kicked RIGHt back out into the line, again! What? 2 hour wait, and we only got to play for 45 seconds! Awesome! *gets back in line*
How. Fucking. Annoying.
The game itself, mostly, isn't bad. It's good. Last night, I played on another server, on an anonymous alt, and I had fun *just* playing.
I have to find that, again, but on MY server, with MY people.
I can't help but take the game itself seriously. It's not about the game, it's about the people, I sincerely love the people I've met, there, and I pine for that level of friendship when I'm not in it. So, just the very nature, as in the game is the crucible for some of my friendships, I have to evaluate stuff, and try to make an effort, to play.
In the meantime,though, I'm about to stress test D&D Online. It looks like it'll be amusing, but definitely not The Next Big Thing. I also, in a fit of drunkenness, ordered AC's expansion. You remember AC? That game I played like 2-4 years ago? I've got this deep nostalgia for it, and I sense that it's mostly bullshit I've been working up in my mind. The game should be here tomorrowish. I'll put THAT bullshit to rest. Or, I'll end up falling in love with it all over again, and playing. Who knows? It's something to do.
Blizzard, make me love you again. Where did we go wrong?
2.05.2006
Mindy, for you.
Well, for me too, since it's been forever. But, I thought you would like seeing your name up there.
Every time I come back here and post after forever, I justify it by "well, life is boring, nothing blogworthy, I'm a happy girl"
It shouldn't be like that, I don't think. I think it should be just a stream of consiousness thing, happy or upset, whatever. Just because I once used it as a sounding board and a place to work shit out, doesn't mean I still have to. I've just gotten extremely lazy about it. I'll fess up.
So, the past two days, Irv and I have been toiling away, unpacking, emptying boxes, cleaning out next door, and boxes in the shed. A few of them were just boxes of stuff my mom unceremoniously dumped out of my drawers, from my old room, as I was in the process of moving out. Nice of her to inform me of their existance 9 years after the fact...I thought she just threw all that shit out. But, it was definitely a trip, going through all those old boxes, of stuff from when I was around 16-19, and thinking about those times. Lots of positive stuff, lots of stuff that made me think about Guam, and Jill, a definite positive time. Lots of things though, pointed at a very angry, depressed Lisa. Nothing outright. I know where the real angry writings are, I kept them, kept them safe. But, in doodles, drawings, song lyrics, etc. Some things, without even meaning to, just vibrated with depression and angst.
Also, lots of the things I was unpacking were books. I've been setting up my library-space, in this little walk-in closet thing,in my room. It's very cool, Irv made shelves to line the walls, and we're filling it with pillows, and rugs. Very comfortable little personal space. It made me think of things, too. I'm still into the same things, I still have books from when I was 12-13, and I still READ them (granted...I was into Stephen King, and Forgotton Realms at that age...not like I read kiddy lit now...not that there's anything WRONG with kiddy lit...alright, shit, I do read it anyway...talking myself in circles...stopping now). But, the point is, I was placing books on these shelves that I've had for 15 years. Being surrounded by them, was like being surrounded by old friends. That's such a cliche, but it's so true.
All that walking into the past made me reflect on how far I've come, and what life is like, for me now. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I feel...blessed... I feel CHARMED. I feel lucky, and happy. I have almost everything I could want. I'm 27, have this awesome kid, husband, some of the best friends anyone could ask for. (Maybe, I'll post on friends, later. I don't blog enough about friends.) I'm just gooshy about it.
I feel grown up, I feel like a mom. I'm accepted by my mom-peers, I do the playdate thing, I do the classroom thing. I can relate to people on that level. I used to feel totally alienated from the other mom-types, around the school...but any more, I'm like...one of them. Just when I think I'm all grown up...I manage to suprise myself. Still. Punch me in the eye if I ever start driving a Volvo, ok? But, I feel grown up, and I feel like I can hang with that crowd. I can trade chicken recipes, and commiserate about the second grade spelling tests, like anyone.
I can still also play Halo till my eyes bleed. I'm a little kid, at heart.
I've blogged about it before, I know, but this weekend,and past few weeks have brought me to a very firm realization about it. So much so, that I don't question "who I am" anymore. I just am. And, I am happy.
Every time I come back here and post after forever, I justify it by "well, life is boring, nothing blogworthy, I'm a happy girl"
It shouldn't be like that, I don't think. I think it should be just a stream of consiousness thing, happy or upset, whatever. Just because I once used it as a sounding board and a place to work shit out, doesn't mean I still have to. I've just gotten extremely lazy about it. I'll fess up.
So, the past two days, Irv and I have been toiling away, unpacking, emptying boxes, cleaning out next door, and boxes in the shed. A few of them were just boxes of stuff my mom unceremoniously dumped out of my drawers, from my old room, as I was in the process of moving out. Nice of her to inform me of their existance 9 years after the fact...I thought she just threw all that shit out. But, it was definitely a trip, going through all those old boxes, of stuff from when I was around 16-19, and thinking about those times. Lots of positive stuff, lots of stuff that made me think about Guam, and Jill, a definite positive time. Lots of things though, pointed at a very angry, depressed Lisa. Nothing outright. I know where the real angry writings are, I kept them, kept them safe. But, in doodles, drawings, song lyrics, etc. Some things, without even meaning to, just vibrated with depression and angst.
Also, lots of the things I was unpacking were books. I've been setting up my library-space, in this little walk-in closet thing,in my room. It's very cool, Irv made shelves to line the walls, and we're filling it with pillows, and rugs. Very comfortable little personal space. It made me think of things, too. I'm still into the same things, I still have books from when I was 12-13, and I still READ them (granted...I was into Stephen King, and Forgotton Realms at that age...not like I read kiddy lit now...not that there's anything WRONG with kiddy lit...alright, shit, I do read it anyway...talking myself in circles...stopping now). But, the point is, I was placing books on these shelves that I've had for 15 years. Being surrounded by them, was like being surrounded by old friends. That's such a cliche, but it's so true.
All that walking into the past made me reflect on how far I've come, and what life is like, for me now. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I feel...blessed... I feel CHARMED. I feel lucky, and happy. I have almost everything I could want. I'm 27, have this awesome kid, husband, some of the best friends anyone could ask for. (Maybe, I'll post on friends, later. I don't blog enough about friends.) I'm just gooshy about it.
I feel grown up, I feel like a mom. I'm accepted by my mom-peers, I do the playdate thing, I do the classroom thing. I can relate to people on that level. I used to feel totally alienated from the other mom-types, around the school...but any more, I'm like...one of them. Just when I think I'm all grown up...I manage to suprise myself. Still. Punch me in the eye if I ever start driving a Volvo, ok? But, I feel grown up, and I feel like I can hang with that crowd. I can trade chicken recipes, and commiserate about the second grade spelling tests, like anyone.
I can still also play Halo till my eyes bleed. I'm a little kid, at heart.
I've blogged about it before, I know, but this weekend,and past few weeks have brought me to a very firm realization about it. So much so, that I don't question "who I am" anymore. I just am. And, I am happy.
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