Ernest Hemingway:

As Ernest Hemingway once said...
'All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.'

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

working for the weekend

Being at work this week so far is difficult. We went camping with V & CB this weekend and after having such a great time it's even more difficult than usual. I find myself staring out the window, wishing I was lounging in the sun in a camp chair holding an ice cold beer. Or splashing around in a spring-fed creek. Or playing a game of ladder golf. Or discussing the creepy guy in a nearby site laying around by himself in his tent wearing jeans and a button-down shirt and waiting for him to kidnap (adultnap?) us while we sleep.

We went to the Paddy Creek campground in the Mark Twain National Forest - twenty or so miles from Licking, MO. It's very remote, without even running water or cell phone signals, which was great - we had a huge campsite to ourselves so we could be as loud as we wanted (overruling Q's paranoia). The weather was picture-perfect. Not a cloud in the sky for three days straight - the most amazing blue sky framed by huge trees. The night sky looked like a planetarium there were so many stars. Days spent relaxing, chilling with friends, drinking good beer, eating great food, nothing to worry about - I could get used to that.

The funniest part of the weekend (there were many - there always are when the four of us get together) was attempting to hike what we thought was the Paddy Creek Trail, a mile or so hike to a good swimming spot in the creek (as opposed to the concrete bridge - well not really a bridge but a spot where the creek flowed over the road). We got a little ways in and the trail ended at the creek, but definitely not what I would describe as a good swimming spot. So instead of taking the trail back we decided to wade the river back to the bridge. We had Chay with us. Chay's not afraid of getting wet (she'd already plopped herself down in the creek by this time to cool off), but wasn't especially happy about trudging through the water and kept trying to take off for dry land. But she kept going like a trooper. There were a few deeper sections that went to my waist that Chay wasn't able to navigate, so Q picked her up which was a feat unto itself - she does not like being picked up and hadn't ever let us do it. She put up with this twice, then put her foot down - no more. So Q had no choice but to lead her in and see if she would swim.

We've never seen her swim before, and weren't sure she could even do it. Greyhounds are so big and lanky. Some can swim, but some can't. Chay's been in the water, even up to her neck, but that's it. Her instincts took over and she swam like a pro. She made it to a part where she could stand, and stand she did, with her head held high. She totally knew she'd done something new, and was so very proud. Chay swimming is darned adorable with her pointy nose poking high out of the water. Such a cutie. We finally made it back to the bridge where we lounged around for a few hours like complete hoosiers. Letting our true colors shine through. Chay was toast the rest of the day after her little ordeal. I'm curious to see whether she'll try it again this summer at the lake.

Another interesting moment was waking up the first morning and not finding Chay's metal food bowl that I'd put a secure lid on the night before. After asking everyone if they'd put it away, we determined it'd been stolen by an animal. Yum. And animals getting into the trash cans across the way. Can't blame 'em for wanting a tasty treat, I suppose. As long as I'm not the tasty treat I'm good with it. Have at it.

I've got to find some way to live in an amazing, secluded place without a job - at least not a corporate job. Anyone? Ideas? I'm feeling an odd need to reconnect with nature and give up most of my worldly belongings including but not limited to pantyhose and heels. Early mid life crisis perhaps?

Friday, May 18, 2007

blink an eye and they fly II

It seems the frequency of my posting correlates directly with my workload here at the good ol' 9-5. Or 8-5. Whatever happened to 9-5, anyway? Dolly? Seriously, I think I've had maybe five substantial things to do this entire week. Come on. I like the internets as much as the next person, and am constantly amazed by the fantastic content out there like this site (good for at least a daily cackle), there's only so much aimless surfing one can do.

Yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of the death of my friend, Shorty. Do you call it that? An anniversary? I guess, even though it seems kind of weird. To me 'anniversary' evokes good feelings. How about death day? Like 'yesterday was Shorty's death day?' I suppose there's no good way to say it. It's awkward no matter what.

Kind of like figuring out what to get to put on her grave. Flowers? They seem so cheesy, and Shorty wasn't a flower kind of girl. Plus the crappy Snoocks I went to didn't have a great selection. The cheapest ones were over $6. Somehow spending that on something that will sit and die on Shorty's grave didn't seem right to my frugal (that's one way to say it) self. So I opted for a small potted plant. It had reddish leaves and big red blooms. Not flowers, more like a cone shaped thingy. A botanist I am not. This one set me back $2. Much better. And it'll probably last a lot longer than flowers.

The awkwardness followed me again to the cemetery. This time I found her grave without much trouble, unlike the past few times (once I had to get someone from the cemetery to help me - seriously awkward. Apparently I'd made a mental note the last time that it sat under a small tree, and there it was. It was just like last time. The little dog was still there, looking a bit worse for the wear. Stuffed animals + outside elements = not a great combo. There were some fake flowers in the little vase on her headstone, and a bunch of red roses that had been there for some time. They were one step away from being reclaimed by the earth.

It was a beautiful day. To push away the awkwardness, I set to work arranging her things on the headstone. I brushed off errant leaves and whatnot, and cleaned the grass sprayed by a mower off of the vase. I got a pen from my purse to write 'Miss you Shorty' on the flowerpot. I took a couple of pictures (morbid, yes, but the light and angle were perfect to capture her last name, the flowerpot, the vase with fake flowers, and the dog keeping guard beneath it). Then I ran out of things to do. What does one do at a cemetery? It's weird. I felt like a tool standing there, so I sat down for a while. The sun was nice. The day was very similar to her last death day (yes, that's better, feels more natural). I thought about what we used to do on these days back in college, and sent good thoughts out to her, wherever she is.

Then I got back in the car and listened to Terri Gross on NPR interview Alice Cooper. Great interview. He's quite a guy.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007


I have to make a tough decision. There are two things going on next Wednesday night, and I have to decide which to do. Q and I have been invited to go to the Cardinals game, which is great, but it gets better. The tickets are in the second row behind home plate in the green seats, which means we get all the free food and drinks we want. And we don't have to pay for the tickets. So we'd get to see the Cards up close, get free food and drinks, and only have to pay to park. I've been in the second row from the field, but it was behind third base, so we were basically dodging fly balls all night. And actually saw (and heard) a woman get hit square in the face, which was scary.

On the other hand, though, Dimmu Borgir is playing at Pops that night. They're a black metal band from Norway. I like going to shows, but normally I wouldn't have a hard time picking a Cards game over a show, especially in these seats. But I hate to miss the opportunity to see this band. I'm sure they've got a great stage show, and this is the kind of music that sounds incredible live.

Tough decision, especially for someone who doesn't like making decisions. Sometimes life can be so difficult.

Monday, May 14, 2007

UPDATE: homebrew

Okay, so Q pointed out that maybe I was being a bit overdramatic (I can't imagine that) when I said our wheat was the best I'd ever tasted. I was thirsty and it was hot, okay? It did taste pretty darn good. And still does.

i am so-ore

We fared well in the kickball tournament this weekend. Saturday was the brackets for the bad teams, while the good teams got a bye until Sunday. We played in four games Saturday, making it all the way to the final game (the final two teams left standing went on to play on Sunday), then losing. Which was fine, actually. We were all so sore, there was no way we'd be able to play on Sunday. But it was a blast. Free beer and food, good company, amazing weather - can't beat that. The best moment was in our third game, which was 2-1 (the other team), right up until the final inning. With two outs, one of our guys kicked a bomb into the outfield, and they missed it. We ended up scoring three runs and beating them. It was quite a moment, one of those that only happens in movies.

The whole day was eerily similar to our tournament run a few years back. We ended up making it to the final game after barely beating out the team in the third game, then lost to the most annoying, obnoxious team in the world. It's actually kind of creepy.

That night we went to dinner with friends at Chuy's, then were too tired to go out afterwards. We're such geezers. But on our way home we were stopped at a light on Hampton behind a cop. I just knew he was going to flip on his lights and go through, and sure enough, that's exactly what he did, only to flip them off right after he got through the light. That is so irritating. Just as irritating as a cop, without his lights on, speeding. I was heading up Big Bend to work the other day and a cop was totally on my ass. I wasn't about to start speeding to accommodate him, so after a while, I got into the other lane (I was in the slow lane, mind you), and he zoomed past me, still without lights on.

How is this allowed to happen? It's not an unusual occurrence. I see cops speeding all the time. How are we expected to go the speed limit when they can't even do it? Whatever happened to leading by example? Our cops should go the speed limit, and that's it. There should be big repercussions if they don't. If they're off duty, not in a uniform and not in a marked car, then whatever. They can do whatever they want to do. Go a hundred miles per hour for all I care. But shit, when they're on duty, go the fucking speed limit. It's so irritating. Why not spark up a joint while you're at it? Might as well have a beer or two! Oh for the love.

Monday, May 07, 2007


Q and I watched two movies this weekend - The Departed and Half Nelson. I thought The Departed was just so-so, while Half Nelson was amazing (not to mention it stars the very attractive Ryan Gosling). It made me wonder, yet again, what the hell the Academy is thinking when it chooses the best picture of the year. This year The Departed was up against The Queen, Babel, Letters from Iwo Jima, and Little Miss Sunshine.

I've only actually seen The Departed and Little Miss Sunshine, but even Little Miss Sunshine was miles better than The Departed. Totally overrated. I thought the acting was mediocre at best, and the movie really dragged through the first half. Plus it felt like I'd seen the same move at least a few times in the past. How can the Academy pick a movie with mediocre acting? It's all rigged. I'm convinced. Titanic, anyone?