zenexistence

"There are way more meatballs in this salad than I'd expect."

This was the quote of the day yesterday.
And, as fate would have it, a truly accurate and foreboding statement.

We are down to one last weekend at the Renaissance Festival. This brings with it mixed emotions; relief because I am in a constant state of near exhaustion, dread because I have to go back to paychecks and I'll miss the hell out of the cash made daily. But, most of all, its an impending sense of sadness and loneliness because I realize this is one of the few places that I'm truly comfortable being myself, being moi. II'm an odd mixture of misanthrope combined with exhibitionist and this only lends itself to certain jobs and definitely not my weekly one.
By the way, I mean this in a performing sense and not a nekkid sense.
By the way, I mean that in the expressive sense and not the nekkid sense.
Shut up, you get my point.

Okay, I need to transition a bit to this next photo because it has nothing to do with exhibitionism.


Above is yours truly with bestie Miss Amber and my favorite 14th century steingart replica or, for you less enlightened, mug. I love this mug. I love Miss Amber too but in a more platonic, but no less passionate sense.
We shall call the steingart Rex, because that is indeed his name and it would make no sense to provide a pseudonym.
The picture shown is the last living photograph taken of Rex.
At 7:44am Sunday, April 10th, in the year 2011 of Our Lord, Rex was crushed by a 64-ounce glass jar of Claussen Kosher Dill Pickles. It was an accident and no charges are pending.
I would appreciate a dedicated moment of silence for the loss of this most beloved ceramic drinking device.


RIP Rex 3/12/2010-4/10/11

Below is my dear friend, and fellow Browncoat, Jody. We love him. He often makes thrusting motions and fabulous statements.


This me me actually working and not socializing. It had to be documented because it is nearly an extinct form of activity on my part after seven weeks.


I've provided these pictures because I often hear ...
and trust me, dear people, I understand this more than you know.

The first thing I plan to do on my weekend off is defined perfectly with the two sentences below:


Although I really, really, truly, really, really, truly want to go to Epcot my first weekend off and I'm pretty sure pants are required and I'm sure I want to exhibit that much self-discipline, so we'll see.
Plus, if I go to Epcot, I know I'll be all like ...

and my liver will be all like ...

and then I'll be all pickled [Ihateyoupickles!] and suave like ...

But in reality I'll be making this face ...

So, as I said, we'll see.

I'm eating hummus and pita chips. This my comfort food. Comfort and I are not such BFF's these days so I'm attempting you rekindle our bond with one another.

I'm pretty addicted to hummus. I can't even remotely think of another food I appreciate more ...

As a kid I used to be addicted to meatloaf sandwiches, which I think is possibly one of the oddest culinary obsessions to have but, hell, I was a child and it was that AND Steak-Ums.


Okay, I need to go cuddle up with Bones, snore and drool a little.







Eye<3ewe,
Scotty