So I am recovering well from my testicular procedure and appreciate people writing me to wish me well. The swelling has subsided as has most of the bruising. Went out for my first ride on the bike, a measly 8 miles. Still, my man parts (or as Luke would call them, my "decoration") survived and there was minimal pain inside the spandex.
I have been sort-of-sick on and off for the last week or so. I attribute this to being cooped up indoors playing Godzilla: Save The City on Xbox 4 hours a day, sitting in front of the internet doing job search shit and selling off my record collection and, generally, not getting out and enjoying life the way we ought to be. I desperately need a haircut.
So Sunday, the lady and I filled a backpack with Cliff Bars and a bottle of water and drove off to Mount Rainier National Park - or at least within 20 miles of it, the actual park is still closed for winter. We hiked around Federation State Park for about 4 or 5 hours. It was amazing. Inside the forest it was dark, the canopy above thick and lush with moss dripping branches scraping the sky at some 300 feet in places, the trees over 1,000 years old. When the sun would make it through there was either snow on the ground, or mist rising from the spot. It was very cold. The ground was one endless sponge, occasionally deteriorating into boggy mud that swallowed our shoes. We saw a bobcat. A good time.
But we still need to get out more. The Henry Art Museum is having an exhibition of Roy Lichtenstein pieces. I am very interested.
Deal or No Deal is on in the background. Some Texas dude is on drawling on about how he plans to buy a ranch. I'm moved. He's being offered some huge amount of money and is crying. His belt buckle is the size of my head, his button down shirt the state flag. It's too much, my head is collapsing. Now the guy's wife has arrived and he is shocked and bawling. It's like Forest Gump except more retarded. He made a "bad deal" and only wound up $109K. He's bummed.
What does it say about a culture that is sad that it won only $109,000 for free?
I no longer live there in Texas. I am so fucking happy about. It seems so long ago, the drive out here, visiting Dinosaur State Park on New Years Day. Weird.
I registered to take the Jeopardy try-out quiz online. My scheduled time is next Thursday (the 30th) at 8 PM. The test is, I suppose, "live". If I pass, I may get to try out in Portland. I don't really understand the process, suffice it to say that in the confines of my living room, I am a Jeopardy-Master.
The FAQs say that a Personality Analysis or something is also part of the test so that may disqualify me. I'm not known for my sparky personality nor am I known as the Complaint Dept. without reason.
Nothing stops "The Bus", or so the asthma medication commercial would have me believe. But I'm glad that the asthmatic dorko kid got to meet him and thank him. "For everything". Too much TV...
I have sold off about half of my record collection. Entering them into eBay is remarkably time consuming. And I get the most annoying e-mails. "Is the catalog number for this record 12-45g-256 or 12-45g-257?" "What is written in the matrix?" "Is this the re-release on Snouser Records, or the original pressing on Scholomo Records, and if so, is the lyrics sheet printed on cardstock or paper?" This is why I am selling these things off. Collecting things for the sake of collecting them turns you into a nerd.
I miss D. Boon, vocalist and guitarist for the minutemen, a band that radically altered my definition of "punk rock" when I was first introduced to them by my friend Paul way back in high school. Lately I've been really into them, what they were all about, their all-for-one attitude and their music.
I have been sort-of-sick on and off for the last week or so. I attribute this to being cooped up indoors playing Godzilla: Save The City on Xbox 4 hours a day, sitting in front of the internet doing job search shit and selling off my record collection and, generally, not getting out and enjoying life the way we ought to be. I desperately need a haircut.
So Sunday, the lady and I filled a backpack with Cliff Bars and a bottle of water and drove off to Mount Rainier National Park - or at least within 20 miles of it, the actual park is still closed for winter. We hiked around Federation State Park for about 4 or 5 hours. It was amazing. Inside the forest it was dark, the canopy above thick and lush with moss dripping branches scraping the sky at some 300 feet in places, the trees over 1,000 years old. When the sun would make it through there was either snow on the ground, or mist rising from the spot. It was very cold. The ground was one endless sponge, occasionally deteriorating into boggy mud that swallowed our shoes. We saw a bobcat. A good time.
But we still need to get out more. The Henry Art Museum is having an exhibition of Roy Lichtenstein pieces. I am very interested.
Deal or No Deal is on in the background. Some Texas dude is on drawling on about how he plans to buy a ranch. I'm moved. He's being offered some huge amount of money and is crying. His belt buckle is the size of my head, his button down shirt the state flag. It's too much, my head is collapsing. Now the guy's wife has arrived and he is shocked and bawling. It's like Forest Gump except more retarded. He made a "bad deal" and only wound up $109K. He's bummed.
What does it say about a culture that is sad that it won only $109,000 for free?
I no longer live there in Texas. I am so fucking happy about. It seems so long ago, the drive out here, visiting Dinosaur State Park on New Years Day. Weird.
I registered to take the Jeopardy try-out quiz online. My scheduled time is next Thursday (the 30th) at 8 PM. The test is, I suppose, "live". If I pass, I may get to try out in Portland. I don't really understand the process, suffice it to say that in the confines of my living room, I am a Jeopardy-Master.
The FAQs say that a Personality Analysis or something is also part of the test so that may disqualify me. I'm not known for my sparky personality nor am I known as the Complaint Dept. without reason.
Nothing stops "The Bus", or so the asthma medication commercial would have me believe. But I'm glad that the asthmatic dorko kid got to meet him and thank him. "For everything". Too much TV...
I have sold off about half of my record collection. Entering them into eBay is remarkably time consuming. And I get the most annoying e-mails. "Is the catalog number for this record 12-45g-256 or 12-45g-257?" "What is written in the matrix?" "Is this the re-release on Snouser Records, or the original pressing on Scholomo Records, and if so, is the lyrics sheet printed on cardstock or paper?" This is why I am selling these things off. Collecting things for the sake of collecting them turns you into a nerd.
I miss D. Boon, vocalist and guitarist for the minutemen, a band that radically altered my definition of "punk rock" when I was first introduced to them by my friend Paul way back in high school. Lately I've been really into them, what they were all about, their all-for-one attitude and their music.