Woke up with a Hops Headache...

The same one I went to sleep with. It's not a hangover, or maybe it is, I just get them when I've been drinking really hoppy beer. I went out to The Flying Saucer, meet up with my boss, caught up on life at the Ball Park, getting ready for another fun filled summer. So I obviously didn't get the other job, but thats cool too. Only had two beers, but still got a headache from them, and that woke me up at this quiet hour.

I haven't written here lately mainly because my thoughts haven't been worth jotting down, an introspective patch? Nope just bitter as old dirt. I don't want to be bitter about life. I never set out to be bitter about much. I don't want to start now. I read something tonight, I'm still crunching through, even after sleep, in fact it was a first waking thought. "Never underestimate the power of circumstance to grind your very bones." It goes on, but it doesn't get any lighter, and I won't reprint it here, the first part says enough. But that sums me up pretty much. I do my best though to march on. Thats why I went out tonight, even though talk of work happened tonight it was mostly social, which I probably need more than anything else. It gives me a base for my summer work.

Even though I didn't get the job I wanted, the job coming up is nice, it doesn't pay much, but it's got it's perks. So I've been gearing up, it involves a bunch off walking so I've been getting into shape for that. I took my bike out for the first time this year, Saturday, beautiful day, the river was raging, rode across the Big Dam bridge to what was almost Cooks Island, then rode up the the new ADEQ Building, a friend works there, beautiful building by the way. Tons of people were out everywhere, I guess I got my wish, spring is here, I wore shorts, but it was still chilled.

I need to find a group to ride with, my riding buddy is the one I fell out with. We met up and had a little pow-wow, I don't think I got through to him, but I don't think I really could, not without crossing that line. I have endurance on a bike, I could always push him to keep going farther. On Saturday the further I went the closer he got. Looking back I wish I'd taken my dog, other Cyclists would go by in groups, and I felt resentful. With Hoover I wouldn't have been cycling with a ghost, a ghost whispering my own words back in my ear the whole trip "Fuck you, you narssasitic prick." Why is it when we use truth as a weapon it hurts us more than all the other bullshit we use to hurt people. Of all the things I could have said, why did I have to use the truth?

I know alot of people brood over problems with people, and when they do they plan out what they are gonna say, if they say this I'll say this... But never in my life have those confrontations gone exactly as I thought. But it did happen, he said exactly what I thought he'd say, and walked right into the verbal ambush. I was greeted by exactly what I wanted. I got the last word. I guess thats because I know him so well. But in my defense, he was poking the bear. He made it my fault, I was to blame for the entire situation, I've seen him do the same thing before to other people, I knew better.

My God, what have I done...

That all happened before our pow-wow. We laughed around that and other things, and basically hung out. It was a good time. Very disarming, but do I swallow my pride and bury the past, and continue to be friends with someone who knows better, but ignores it. Everything that happened would have been fine with anyone else. Nobody knows me better, I had no defense. Still no one knows me better, do I show my wounded side? I got nothing, nothing. How do I survive a second blow. Especially when I might have to provoke the next shot. I might have to provoke it, if I want to be a true friend.

In Chess they call that "zugzwang" meaning that the player must move, but whatever move you make you put yourself at a disadvantage. Damn I wish this was only a chess game.

A part of me says to lay down my king now, concede. Get out now, don't waste the energy and thought on the end game to come. I'm at the disadvantage anyway.

Another part of me says to continue on with the game, finish the mid-game, show my wounded side and maybe in the end I can win a stalemate. (Stand by with my mouth shut, and just be a friend who lets someone make mistakes, no matter what it does to there friend.)

Then there is that very delicious, tempting chess player urge deep down in my psyche who screams out to force the endgame now. Use the king to attack, move out of the corner and stand up. I'm at the disadvantage anyway, that gives me an edge, I have less to lose. I'll definatly lose anyway, but I can be defiant to the end.(I can be there, tell him what he needs to hear and be damned whether he wants to hear it or not, take the shots he sends back, and keep on him.)

God I wish it were that easy, and damn I wish I could tell the whole story, maybe in the next life when we are all cats.

"Sometimes I slumber on a bed of roses, sometimes I crash in the weeds, one day a bowl full of cherries, one night I'm suckin' on lemons and spittin' out the seeds."
James

Nada

I see the lightning from the storm down in Mexico
And I see my speedometer doesn't work
I cross the desert and disappear into the tumbleweeds
I tip the bottle and bite the lime

I hear the thunder from the storm down in Mexico
And I leave the border far behind
I feel the dust coat my teeth and turn my sweat to mud
I tip the bottle and bite the lime

There ain't no moral to this story at all
Anything I tell you very well could be a lie
I've been away from the living, I don't need to be forgiven
I'm just waiting for that cold black soul of mine
to come alive

I feel the wind blow from the storm down in Mexico
Gasoline for another hundred miles
I cross the river and leave my shoes up on the other side
I tip the bottle and bite the lime

There ain't no moral to this story at all
Anything I tell you very well could be a lie
Been away from the living, I don't need to be forgiven
I'm just waiting for that cold black sun-cracked soul of mine
to come alive

Come alive, yeah

Well, I feel the rain drops from the storm down in Mexico
Truck will go no further, out of gas
I walk through the desert past the lizard and rattlesnake
I tip the bottle and bite the lime

There ain't no moral to this story at all
Anything I tell you very well could be a lie
There ain't no morals to these stories at all
And everything I tell you, you can bet will be a lie
I been away from the living, I don't need to be forgiven
I'm just waiting for that cold black sun-cracked numb-inside soul of mine
to come alive

Come alive, come alive
Come alive.


Thats from Nada by The Refreshments, a great band that was from the mid nineties.

I'm not sure if I feel exactly like that right now because it's one of my absolute favorite songs and it has become a permanent part of my psyche, or because I actually do feel exactly like those beautiful words express. The only thing missing for me is a broken odometer, a pocket full of limes, bottle of Tequila, and vast Arizona desert. I'm half way considering going to get two of those as we speak.

I just had a strange job interview about any hour ago, and I come home to find one of my best friends actually had put a dagger in my back, I had felt the tingling back there for the past few days, my spider sense was going off. I'm almost twenty nine years old and my whole life I've always done my best to be the friend that I needed to everyone else to be for me. That policy has rarely steered me wrong before.

This is my new year, for the past year I've been pining over a five year relationship that ended horribly. A year ago at this time I should have picked my face up out of the shit and marched onward, instead I drank my way though the summer, and withered away for the winter. No more, I'm a little behind now, but I know how to keep moving, but I'm not gonna try to catch up. I'm just going to move forward from here on out. I'm gonna land that job, doing what I loved to do in Oklahoma, and I'm gonna love it here too. This is my new year, because pointless mistakes were so last year.

Not that I'm not going to learn from those pointless mistakes. I'll learn from those and I'll learn from others. God knows I haven't been the easiest person to get through to lately I know, but the hands of friends that reached out were acknowledged. It's not like I didn't take some of those hands, and let them do what they could to help, and it's not like I didn't make my appreciation as plan as the nose on my face. I'll learn from the mistakes and the virtue of others, especially the ones that can show me the kind of friend that I need to be for others, and the kind of friend that nobody needs.

And thats all I have to say about that,
James

In case of Zombie Apocylspe...

This tip should be filed under Lesson 1.

Organize before they rise!

May I suggest the investment of six or more Guinea Pigs all from different breeds, half male, half female. I know it may sound horrible, but these cute little pets are packable, sturdy, hardy, and nutritious. This little tidbit of advice is more along the lines of a long term investment, as opposed to anything that will pay dividends with-in the first few months of a full scale Zombie outbreak. Keeping your last redoubt as small as possible is one of your best strategy's, thus using a small mammal as source of livestock would work best. You might also consider rabbits, but they are a little more fragile, and need a more specialized diet. But on the other side of the coin, they do produce a fine quality hide.

Just food for thought,
James

I'm ready to wear shorts...

I guess I don't know how to deal with winter time. I've always been able to identify with trees, might as well give up for a few months and wait for the new life of spring. Richard Adams hit the nail on the head in Watership Down, when he talked of the anxiety of the rabbits as winter approached, and of humans who enjoy the winter, it isn't the season we enjoy, it is the proof against it. Here are things I enjoy about winter; wool, wood smoke, turkey and yams, the way snow looks, and warm beverages. Just about everything I like about winter are things we as people have developed to survive the cold months better. Even "the way snow looks" says something, we can see it and be separate from it, we can observe it, and not subjected to it the way that Mr.Adams rabbits were (unless you were unfortunate enough have a mishap in our last batch of snow). Even when winter overcomes the infrastructure that gives us proof against it, we often regard it today as a happy time, but if the lights had not come back on would we still? I guess because it brings people together, which was one of the earliest defenses we as a species used to come to grips with winter. Hard winters can be surreal, a changed landscape, a changed psychology in those we meet, I've had conversations with strangers in blowing snow and twenty degrees that were more friendly and pleasant than almost any other time. If I had to guess it would be because we all have the same thing in common, reality currently sucks.
In the winter the sun is further to the southern horizon, and so much of the quality of light we receive is eaten by traveling through that extra bit of atmosphere. I really am a creature of the sun, a being of the light, and not spiritually. I would assume I am a prime candidate for S.A.D. seasonal affective disorder. I would not trade one Arkansas July day, for a week of sunny December days.

Reminds me of that old traditional song,
"Going where the climate suits my clothes
I'm going where the climate suits my clothes
Going where the climate suits my clothes
Don't wanna be treated this a way"

Maybe one winter I'll be able to do that, but as for this winter, I'm ready to chuck it in a shallow grave.

Bring me my shorts,
James

Problog

I guess the first post should probably be an introduction with a mission statement, so here goes.

Basically I'd like this to be a public notebook of sorts to portray odd thoughts and ideas, a mental sketchbook if you will. I guess you could expect odd bits of philosophy, travel experiences, short works or drafts of fiction, odd bits of poetry or song lyrics, biographical profiles, or even strange out of date practices or rituals.

So I guess you could say it's a generic blog...
But it's my generic blog,
James