tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-377368452024-03-14T00:18:18.485-05:00Rants Raves Life and Anything Else That ComesArtful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.comBlogger198125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-6086805162902678492022-01-24T20:31:00.005-06:002022-01-24T20:31:54.544-06:00Amongst other things I've taken up smoking<p> 'Are you hungry? It's time for food.' </p><p>Our old brown tabby wakes from her slumber at the word food. She chuffs at me while I get up off the bed and head for the kitchen. She's old and battle worn, one of her ears split and curled from her battles when she was young. Now she's old fat and docile. </p><p>It's time for me to eat too. </p><p>Her claws clack on the wood floor as she runs past me towards the kitchen. I grab her dish and empty and clean out this mornings unfinished food. She rubs against the corner of the kitchen wall enthusiastically in the same place everyday. I have to wipe the wall down or she'll leave a stain from her face on the corner if I don't. I set the food down and she happily eats. Our younger cat saunters into the kitchen and looks at her bowl. </p><p>"Oh shit" I say loudly, "I forgot to cook more chicken for you". Because we spoil our cats this one only eats dried food and chicken breast. She's long and lanky, I wish she would eat more. She follows me into the garage as I pull a frozen chicken breast. I have unthawed salmon in the fridge I need to cook today. I can do both at once. I pull out a small pot and place the breast in to boil. 'Your food will be one in about an hour okay.' She looks at me and then her bowl and walks away looking judgmental. </p><p>I check my phone for music. I could connect it to the Bluetooth and play music from the sound system in the den. I don't feel like doing that. Despite the over a thousand songs on my phone I know there isn't something that I really want to hear on it. I feel like symphony music. 'Soundtracks?' I think to myself. I noticed I hadn't used my SiriusXM app in ages despite paying for it. My father uses it all the time, I really just have it for him. 'Why not?' I again think. I don't feel like preparing a track listing myself so I'll try Cinemagic, I haven't listened to it in forever. </p><p>I turn the app on. I know I had it saved to my favorites since forever. It's not there. Apparently they took it away. Damn it. Well....I can turn on the PC connected to the TV and just put the genre to random on soundtracks. I turn it on and it clanks and whirs to life. It's an older PC, I think to myself that I can't even remember when I bought it. Not long after Mixtape Girl and I were married. We only used it for streaming shows before Roku's and Apple TV was a major thing. Only music is stored on it and not really updated, but it'll do. </p><p>Windows 8 turns on. A clumsy but inventive system I will admit. Looks nice but the execution is not there. The media player is Zune which will give you an idea as to just how old the system is. Though not updated the music player opens reliably and takes a few moments to load all our old albums. I search through soundtracks and pick Lawrence of Arabia. Why, I don't know but I get through the overture and first track before changing albums. I can't think of what to listen to. Braveheart maybe. Again the first two tracks then change. Thomas Newman's Road to Perdition seems like a good continual option to listen to. I don't want sad music, I just want something I can ignore. </p><p>I take out the salmon and slice up fillets. Seasoning with garlic, onions, and spices. I run out to the garden and pick some fresh rosemary and thyme to infuse with the butter to baste the fillets in while they cook. As I set them to pan fry I chop of zucchini and onions, grapes tomatoes and spinach and set them aside to cook in the pan drippings of the fish. </p><p>While I chop up the vegetables I think of all the events that have happened since I was on here last. So much has come and gone. Mixtape Girl lost her dad last year. Not from COVID, but a freak accident in the driveway of her parents house. She hasn't quite been the same since. Her mom didn't take it well either and is trying to cry herself to death literally. It's a weird situation. Her mom hurt herself accidentally on purpose and now is in need of constant care. Mixtape Girl spends the working day there, usually 12 hour days to care for her mom and her other handicapped sister. She worries that she's abandoning me. I tell her I'm fine and I'm not going anywhere. Fortunately we work from home now and can work from anywhere so her working from her parents house isn't a problem. </p><p>She oversees the myriads of therapists coming and going everyday to assist her mother. Today she texted me a picture of the giant imaging van that came to take x-rays of her mother. They can come to you now, who'd have known. </p><p>The salmon is sizzling nicely and its time to flip. I take the opportunity to flip the half frozen chicken for the other cat in the pot as well. </p><p>I've spent these last couple of years in confinement, or what seems like it. After all that happened I decided that I had take better care of myself. I'm in the best shape of my life, but it seems like a moot point for some reason. I run now. On a treadmill but I run. I've never ran. Weight lifting, Zumba, a little bit of everything. I just want to be healthy to take care of Mixtape Girl and the rest of our family. </p><p>I get dinner ready as I know she'll be tired when she gets home. She usually sits down and falls asleep after eating. Lately we just watch TV in bed when she gets home and she's out in a few minutes. The two cats always accompany us. Somehow between the cats and Mixtape Girl they manage to take up an entire king sized bed leaving me a sliver of an edge to sleep on. I don't mind. Even on days she stays over with her mom I confine myself to my sliver of the bed. </p><p>Eventually I start to think about this blog. I should revisit it tonight I tell myself. So I do. I turn back to the SiriusXM app. I still can't find anything I like. Initially Al Stewart is singing Year of the Cat when I turn it back on, but that's too much. I end up on the Spa channel. Again it's just something I can ignore. </p><p>So much has changed and so much will continue to do so. There's no point to this post but I just needed to write something today. I kind of miss writing. I think I'll try to be back. </p>Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-30119038059368991132020-05-08T16:25:00.000-05:002020-05-08T16:25:05.349-05:00Comfortably NumbHello, is there anybody in there?<br />
<br />
Just nod if you can hear me.<br />
<br />
Is there anyone at home?<br />
<br />
COVID - 19 has had a way of getting us back to basics. The days are long and blurred together, working from home with mix tape girl has many perks. We're home now, all the time. While many would find this hard to endure we don't mind at all. We're finally enjoying our home that we've paid so much for. Going to work day in and day out and returning late at night only to sleep, with only a few hours of daylight each day to enjoy our house. Weekends were always packed, visiting family, doing chores, no stop no rest, no getting to see thing grow and flourish. We took time for ourselves sure but being forced to stop makes you enjoy it more. <br />
<br />
We're few and far from the sentiments of many I'm sure. The cats sit on our keyboards and the tops of our chairs in our home office throughout the day. They're enjoying being in the room with us all the time, never letting us out of their sight. From one room to the next they follow us. <br />
<br />
The music hasn't stopped the dancing still continues, everyday a dance in the kitchen for no reasons. The satellite radio plays, or a mix on our phones. For fun the other day we made actual mix CD to mail to our nieces. I made them a dance mix full of stuff kids would love. They got it already and sent videos of them dancing like fools. <br />
<br />
The cats stare at us with semi contempt when we sing too loud though. Especially Mix Tape Girl when she hits the high notes. The little cat runs over and will literally place a paw over her mouth.<br />
<br />
As chicken alfredo cooks in the kitchen I sit here, typing away as The Fool on the Hill streams from my phone to the sounds speaker. Before Q-Tip's Breathe and Stop had us grooving just before work was finished. <br />
<br />
I reflect on my past looking at eBay and old plastic toy cars. Remember Gay Toys Inc. plastic cars you'd find in every plastic bin at the grocery store? I miss those. Be careful Googling that toy company, things don't mean what they used to anymore. I collect toys now. I have hobbies outside of music now. Things have changed, I've changed. Kids call me "sir" now, it's strange. <br />
<br />
<span><span>Just a little pinprick</span></span><br />
<span><span> </span><br /><span>There'll be no more, ah</span></span><br />
<span><br /><span>But you may feel a little sick</span></span><br />
<span><br /><span>Can you stand up?</span></span><br />
<span><br /><span>I do believe it's working, good</span></span><br />
<span><br /><span>That'll keep you going through the show</span></span><br />
<span><br /><span>Come on it's time to go</span></span><br />
<br />
These days time seems to slow down but there's still much to do. Lately I've been preparing to pressure wash the deck. It's a pain but it needs to get done. It's red, along with our little red brick house that Mix Tape Girl loves. The color of the wrought iron fence surrounding the deck was Navajo red, we opted for more color, it's firetruck red now. It sparkles in the light as it's high gloss. <br />
<br />
It's a lot of work though, using an angle grinder to remove the old paint. My arms feel like jello after everyday. Things hurt now that didn't 10 years ago. I'm doing the things I swore I would never do as a child. Own as house, maintain a lawn, grow a garden, have a compost bed. <br />
<br />
<span><span>There is no pain you are receding</span></span><br />
<span><span> </span><br /><span>A distant ship, smoke on the horizon</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>You are only coming through in waves</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>When I was a child</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>I caught a fleeting glimpse</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>Out of the corner of my eye</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>I turned to look but it was gone</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>I cannot put my finger on it now</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>The child is grown</span><br /><span> </span></span><br />
<span><span>The dream is gone - (but no, it really isn't)</span></span><br />
<span><span><br /></span></span>
<span><span>Let's face it. I've become comfortably numb. </span></span><br />
<span><span><br /></span></span>
<span><span>Talk to you later. Mix Tape Girl is calling. </span></span>Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-61516056055259302202016-06-14T21:47:00.002-05:002016-06-14T21:47:26.566-05:00Hello from the other side.....Blows on mic.....<br />
<br />
Is this thing still on?<br />
<br />
Anyone left here?<br />
<br />
Hi, remember me......<br />
<br />
I finally remember my username and password. Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-90368622062358497302012-05-24T10:14:00.001-05:002012-05-24T10:14:04.689-05:00My god, has it been over a year since I visited you blog? Say it isn't so. It's my fault really for neglecting you. Seems like everyone has jumped to Facebook or WordPress. Not me though not yet. People tell me just friend me on Facebook. My blank stare tells them I don't have it. How can you not have one they ask? "Cause I'd rather not have you all up in my business 24 hours a day", I reply. <br />
<br />
Not to say Facebook etc, isn't useful it's just not for me. I rail against it for no particular reason. I miss the people and interaction that used to be here. But life does go on. <br />
<br />
So for today, I shall just give an update. Mixtape girl and myself are doing just fine. Or little family is growing, we have two cats now. Much to Mixtape girls displeasure, though her love for me allows me to keep my critters, both strays. <br />
<br />
Today's been a "meh" day thus far. Started okay but then my wonderful breakfast of oatmeal no less decided that my grooming needed updating. Thusly the milk inside it decided to come squirting out and give me a Pollock like pattern of milk and oats all over my dress shirt a work. Leaving lovely yellowish colored stains all over my chest. Seeing as I now have to walk around work all day with stains all over my chest, I want to shout "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!!" Throw my files out the window get in my car pick up Mixtape girl and drive off into the unknown. <br />
<br />
This of course will never happen. I'll go too the loo in a minute and do my best to wash the stains out. Such is life. I'll try to type more tonight. If any of you still by chance read this, I just want to say hi and miss you too.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-48016828989709601682011-03-10T21:43:00.010-06:002011-03-11T23:42:06.194-06:00Mix Tape MashupMix Tape Girl: I can't believe X is getting married to Y. Y's a fucking idiot.<br /><br />Me: Let's just hope he grows up.<br /><br />MTG: She knows better. Everyone knows Y's problems. He's a freaking drunk. She knows better.<br /><br />Me: That's what she wants and there's no talking her out of it.<br /><br />MTG: I just hope he doesn't beat her.<br /><br />Me: One can only hope. You just can't talk people out of mistakes when it comes to love. She loves him even though it's a huge mistake and she knows it. There's no talking her out of it.<br /><br />MTG: Yeah everyone has mistakes. At least my last one fucked himself over before I fell for it. (Then catching herself and what she's saying never talking to me about the "mistake")<br /><br />Me: (silent, knowing MTG's last mistake but never having asked about it only assumed the mistake, since she talked about him all the time before we ever thought we'd like each other.)<br /><br />MTG: We're here.<br /><br />Me: What do you say? Congratulations on marrying a drunk, hope he doesn't go crazy and beat you. Please don't do it.<br /><br />MTG: You say, "I hear congratulations are order". That way you're not saying congratulations...out right anyways.<br /><br />Me: Ah...<br /><br />We enter the restaurant and meet up with X. We have dinner trying hard not to talk about the mess that will soon ensue. MTG and X are talking and my mind wanders off. I think of the mistake MTG mentioned. I dismiss it, who cares. But it starts me thinking about all the girls in my life. Girls from the past, my present with Mix Tape Girl and our future.<br /><br />I think of songs that go with these girls. I remember the first girl I had a crush on it. Michelle. I remember giving her a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pin. I remember she loved it and wore it on her backpack that whole school year. Elementary was fun. I remember her mom was the crossing guard at the school. Her mom liked me. It remind me of the song Turtle Power by McHammer from the movie.<br /><br />MTG and X are carrying on. MTG slipping in sly remarks letting X know of her disapproval, that make X cringe since they're true. My mind wanders off as they pay no attention to me.<br /><br />I think back to middle school and Beverly whom I had a serious crush on. She was a nerd, but a hot one. It reminds me of Rob's line in High Fidelity "One moment they weren't there -- not in any form that interested us, anyway -- and the next, you couldn't miss them. They were everywhere. And they'd grown breasts. And we wanted -- actually we didn't even know what we wanted. But it was something interesting. Disturbing even." I remember her glasses which were so much cooler than mine. I remember sneaking into her posh mobile home park she lived in and sneaking into the swimming pool just to go see her sunbathing. I think, "is posh mobile home park" an oxymoron? It was nice anyways. I think of Jessica whom I had no interest in but she made sure I'd somehow touch her every time in English class. I remember Jessica....huh....not going there. I remember the Cranberries song Linger and The Spin Doctor's Little Miss Can't Be Wrong.<br /><br />I remember Florence my last year of middle school and staring high school. I remember her staring at me on the field trip to the army base. I remember my friend jabbing me telling me she was looking at me. I remember looking at her and saying my ever so cool opening line of "Hi." But she was too embarrassed to that I s I remember her following me (I kid you not) so we could have lunch together. I remember knowing she was following me, and going the extra long way and taking unnecessary routes to see if she would follow, and she did. I remember her telling me, "I know you're trying to give me the slip". I just wanted to see if you'd follow. We had lunch together everyday and hung out together in gym class and always were lab partners in our Biology AP class. I remember the day I moved, and her face. I remember the kiss she gave me. I'll remember listening to The Smashing Pumpkins 1979 and Green Day's She, together.<br /><br />I remember Laura when we moved out in the middle of no where. I remember her showing me that there is life in everything. Even when you're stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do. I remember Tonight, Tonight and sharing music with my friends and being the social butterfly that Laura turned me into. I remember that when a girl asks you to walk with her to the "Bathroom" it doesn't really mean walk me to the "Bathroom", it means lets go get lost together. I remember getting my drivers license and driving around a tiny little town in the middle of no where jamming out to mixed tapes. I remember Laura singing and dancing and jumping around to Veruca Salt's Volcano Girls. I remember the one picture of us I have in a box outside with my old stuff. I remember moving away once again and leaving all my friends I had made behind.<br /><br />I spent the whole next year basically by myself, oddly enough wanting to go back to the middle of nowhere to be with my friends. But Liliana in my account class made sure I stayed too much out of my funk. Making me wear her headphones and listening to Aqua's Barbie Girl.<br /><br />Then I met Laurie who took me in as a friend. We became close and shared everything through my graduation all the way past my first encounter with Mix Tape Girl. I remember making mix tapes for each other and installing her car stereo. How she introduced me fully to country music and the Dixie Chicks and gave me a new found respect for Bon Jovi. I remember introducing her to Dido (whom I still absolutely love even if her last album was crap). She critiqued my mixes when I started making them for Mix Tape Girl. We be came so close that I didn't see that she was in love with me. I just thought of her as the sister I never had. I wouldn't learn of this until she married someone that I couldn't stand because he left one of our friends in a dire situation and I was the only one left to pick up the pieces. I'll remember sitting at I-Hop with Ashley Simpson's Pieces of Me playing, and talking with her and another friends about Mix Tape Girl, then making plans to go to a concert me and Laurie never went to. I remember walking out of the restaurant and Laurie jokingly telling me, "Guess that means you don't like me then." But I was too young and dumb to realize it wasn't a joke. I remember thinking she must be joking on my drive back home, but not picking up the phone to ask and make sure. I see her though about once a year and it's nice but things aren't the same. I can't stand her husband and she doesn't really care for Mix Tape Girl but we're cordial and play nice.<br /><br />X's parents show up and we all smile knowing X is making a huge mistake. We smile politely and enjoy dinner, trying to not bring up the obvious subject except only on occasion to make X cringe a little.<br /><br />We finish and say goodnight, and drive home. I have these songs floating in my head. I turn on the satellite radio in the car and the next thing I know the Beastie Boys are playing, Jimmy James.<br /><br />My mind wanders again and before I know it we're home and I'm making a mix CD. The CD is nothing like I imaged it and strayed from it's original intention. The next thing I know instead of a tape for all the girls from my past, I have a CD staring with Jim Croce, You Don't Mess Around With Jim and a bunch of Neil Diamond and Led Zeppelin. <br /><br />So much for the mix. Either ways it's labeled "To All the Girls I've Loved". Mix Tape laughs at the silliness of the CD every time where in my car.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-72504872347640823532010-12-24T22:23:00.002-06:002010-12-24T23:08:31.906-06:00Something like bloodIt's Dec 24 Christmas Eve. All week long it's been close to 80 degrees and foggy and muggy. I'm now sitting in the living room the glow of the outside light in the courtyard lighting the downstairs area. The wind is blowing leaves all around in circles, little whirlwinds sounding like waves crashing against the french doors to our little courtyard. From hot to cold the weather goes in this part of the country. No white Christmas but it's now supposed to be cold at least. <br /><br />I sit here feeling odd, the meds that I started this week are making me feel off. At times it feels like the blood in my veins is rushing through me like a flash flood making the world move at a 100 mph, sometimes it makes me feel cold and sluggish. Sometimes my muscles feel like their expanding and I fear that I'll turn into the Hulk. Sometimes it feels like my muscles are week and my legs will buckle under me when I walk. It's kept me up last night and I got the bear minimal of sleep. All because I keep getting a rash from the allergens in the air, which no one can figure out why as I have no other symptoms than a rash. I waited for tests that came back as negative, and the doctor had no real options to stop the reactions I keep having. <br /><br />Doc: We can give you meds to basically shut down your immune system to stop the physical reactions. Or we can give you these other allergy pills and see how it works.<br /><br />Is all he had to offer. I chose the latter.<br /><br />Thusly here I sit listening to Broken Bells and Meridene's Something like blood, thoroughly enjoying the lasting and haunting riffs at the end of Something like blood. <br /><br />Mix Tape Girl has long gone to sleep since coming home early this afternoon after taking the day off to finish shopping. I laid down with her for a few hours wrapping my arms around her. Her body pressed against mine keeping me warm. Feeling her hair in my face as she slept. Feeling her touch always makes me feel better. After a while the meds pull their trick again and I get up. <br /><br />The night air is getting colder and thinner and I wrap myself up in a big plush blanket and sit in a dark living room listening to music and thinking about my blog and all my dear blogging friends. I sift through the blogs that are still active and catch up with your current events. I do hope you're all well. <br /><br />I re-read this post and see that it makes no sense but I decide "To hell with it" and post anyways. To my friends out there, stay safe, be happy, enjoy being with family if you can, and know that I keep going and reading your posts when I can.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-38943598247227283682010-11-09T22:35:00.003-06:002010-11-09T23:35:13.373-06:00It'll All Work OutIt's near 11 pm and me and the cat sit in the living room. She climbs on the couch and walks on it's back till she reaches my shoulder. She sniffs the laptop and then lies down partial on the back of the couch and partially on my shoulder.<br /><br />She's a new edition to our family. A stray with four paws and sharp claws, a rambunctious little critter. Mix Tape Girl can't really stand her but they get along still. <br /><br />A few moments earlier I was lying in bed with Mix Tape Girl, talking about how we first met. How I had asked her out years ago and how she turned me down. <br /><br />Me: I never thought I'd hear from you again after they laid everyone off.<br /><br />MTG: Honestly I was hoping that you'd forget about me.<br /><br />The answer surprises me and I turn from my lying on my back staring at the ceiling to my side facing directly at MTG. <br /><br />Me: Why would I want to forget about you?<br /><br />MTG: I didn't want to get your hopes up. I thought you'd find someone better. I...I..<br /><br />Me: What?<br /><br />MTG: I...didn't want an anchor.<br /><br />Me: What do you mean an anchor?<br /><br />MTG: I didn't mean it in a bad way. I meant..I meant that you seemed set in your ways, you worked full time, you took care of your parents, you were happy where you were. You were doing good but not really going to go anywhere else really? I just didn't know if you'd stay the same.<br /><br />Me: Am I still the same?<br /><br />MTG: No, you've come a long way. I just needed to be sure that if you changed you'd do it for yourself and not for me.<br /><br />Me: And then a year or so later you called me out of the blue.<br /><br />MTG: Yep.<br /><br />I hold MTG in my arms and in a matter of minutes she falls asleep. I lie in bed staring at the dark ceiling. The bedroom recently redone, the few streams of light that come out of the sides of the new room darkening curtains MTG put up last week. <br /><br />Gently rolling MTG over, I get up and brush my teeth. I'm not tired now so I go downstairs and write in my forgotten blog. Though most of my friends here have migrated to Facebook, I remain here checking on postings from others from time to time. <br /><br />The cat jumps down and wanders around the living room. Looking back at me from time to time to see if I'm still there. The TV's on low and How I Met Your Mother is on. Sitting back in my chair I think to myself, am I an anchor? <br /><br />I tell myself that I'm not, and slowly my eyes get heavy. I finish loading new music for work to my Ipod and publish this post into the once vast and traveled seas of Blogger.<br /><br />Good night friends.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-51982165118909558542010-02-08T22:23:00.003-06:002010-02-08T22:46:03.462-06:00Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old)I know I haven't posted in a while, but I just thought I'd share something funny I received in the mail today. Here's my first WTF!!!??? moment of 2010.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvwrEQhuHF4NcWTS4v6r2JESQnuCPmS6tWSQWg0xr_4XNgYUl2fzkcANFComDKxP6sxx7uQW1beQseHwOGXxQIdctTVkbszc-Io0nVBZ3awcyKuMIj4Ep5sB9ynngOhU5bNLx/s1600-h/aarp+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvwrEQhuHF4NcWTS4v6r2JESQnuCPmS6tWSQWg0xr_4XNgYUl2fzkcANFComDKxP6sxx7uQW1beQseHwOGXxQIdctTVkbszc-Io0nVBZ3awcyKuMIj4Ep5sB9ynngOhU5bNLx/s320/aarp+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436098801222774674" border="0" /></a><br />That's right it's official I got my AARP card. There's one slight problem. I'm only 28. Although the thought of being able to get senior discounts did cross my mind, Mix Tape Girl put an end to that very quickly. Especially when she offered to get me my very own baseball hat that says "Where's my damn discount?" That and I have to pay $16 bucks to pretend to be a senior. I'll keep my $16 bucks for now thank you.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-58145220341773755112009-12-10T23:01:00.002-06:002009-12-10T23:25:11.838-06:00Tortilla Soup BluesNot long ago, a dear old friend asked me "How is Mix Tape Girls cooking?" To which I simply smiled and said, "uh...."<br /><br />Albeit in good faith MTG makes dishes with recipes pulled from the net and some that her friends give her. It's hit or miss, most of the time miss. Though I'll give to her that she makes killer pork chops. <br /><br />Tonight's menu was tortilla soup. Or as I'll put it, boiled chicken with chicken broth, cheese and tortilla chips, unflavored. <br /><br />As we ate this flavorless dish, we both sat and looked at each other. It looked ok, but we took bites and smiled our, (Ewwww...WTF) smiles. Seeing as she had her heart set on this dish I complemented that it was mmmm..mmm...good. <br /><br />And now, several hours later, my stomach is rebelling against me. MTG feeling sick, already going to bed, and me sitting here trying to keep the food down, drinking copious amounts of Malox and water. And putting music on my mp3 player. My head is pounding, my sight is slightly blurry, and my mouth watering like it does before I vomit. <br /><br />Why I decided to blog about this I have no idea. Guess I'm just trying to take my mind off my stomach. Let's hope this is the last foray into Tortilla Soup land.<br /><br />Off to kiss the porcelain seat I go. Think I'm calling in tomorrow.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-5594387634451189382009-10-13T22:55:00.004-05:002009-10-13T23:06:46.535-05:00Let Them Eat CakeSee here a picture. It's the last friggin piece of wedding cake that we have. Thank God!! Normally we'd be over joyed to be showing your our last piece of wedding cake. But the truth is finally it's gone. Hurray!!!! <br /><br />See this is the one left over that you're supposed to eat on your first anniversary, which we did. Now I should note one of our friends made the cake and it was to die for. So moist and soft, and full of gooey goodness. It was a delicious cake. It just wasn't really delicious after sitting in the freezer for a year and then getting defrosted.<br /><br />We ate some of it during our anniversary and I thought, we'd throw away the rest. Boy was I wrong. Here's Mix Tape Girl's thinking. "We should eat every last piece of this cake. It's special." Me: "I don't think it'll take to being re-frozen again." MTG: "Sure it will". Me: "But it's all dry and icky now." MTG: "What you don't like our wedding cake?" Me: "Yeah it was great when it was fresh and less than a year old". MTG: "But it's ours. It has history we have to eat it." Me: "No we don't" MTG: mad stare... Me: "Uh...." MTG: "WE HAVE TO EAT IT....ALL". Me: "Give me the Saran Wrap."<br /><br />So thusly we have been munching on this cake since our anniversary a few months ago. And now we are both overjoyed to be done with the thing. This final piece has been sitting in the fridge for about a week since last being thawed out for the....oh..I'd say 7th time. Needless to say it was hard and cruchie and the frosting was atrocious. But, here it is folks for you're viewing pleasure. This last damn piece of cake. Naturally as any loving husband, I let Mix Tape Girl have the last piece of this horrid 7 times defrosted cake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEk6ZVrwlfB5A30aIgc77YZjTCj4Nu5aaiVbekhZ3gb5wWhqL4K7E6M2We6QC3E5CWkIiY8EA3zaijh8cAUirUoky97TNlu2uOKcnbgAlvufYPTNHfDQkym0QmsFfO-6iTqYp/s1600-h/let+them+eat+cake.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEk6ZVrwlfB5A30aIgc77YZjTCj4Nu5aaiVbekhZ3gb5wWhqL4K7E6M2We6QC3E5CWkIiY8EA3zaijh8cAUirUoky97TNlu2uOKcnbgAlvufYPTNHfDQkym0QmsFfO-6iTqYp/s320/let+them+eat+cake.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392301783194526482" border="0" /></a><br />FYI: Mix Tape Girl's response after eatting the last piece. "That tasted like crap. Why didn't we toss?"<br /><br />I told you so. ^_^Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-17992987285078861372009-05-12T23:11:00.003-05:002009-05-12T23:45:58.061-05:00Fixing a holeIt's 11 pm, Mix Tape Girl has gone to sleep. I wait for the pear cobbler that she put in before she went to bed to finish. The timer she has ticks away, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. I go into our bedroom to grab something. MTG is sound asleep. I stand and watch her sleep for a minute. She looks so tired. <br /><br />The days seem to drag by. It's been so long since I posted. Things changed, circumstances different. I'm at a new job now after trying to start my own work. That didn't work out as planned. Too much overhead to get a clean start. We've both had lost our jobs, and looked together for employment. We found a job at the same company, just different departments. Doing things that I thought I'd never be part of. <br /><br />I listen to people all day, tell me their sob stories. Some are genuine some are not. I foreclose peoples houses now. I have say whether they stay or they go. I hear every story that comes in, most are frightened to be close to being homeless and with just cause but some want to fight. Rarely anyone does, only rarely do you get a fighter. I see the front lines of what's happening to a good part of America. But it doesn't make sense. It's not the banks fault per say, it's not the mortgage broker or the borrowers. It's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">everyone's</span> fault. I sit and listen on the phone all day story after story. Most people are preyed upon, the unintelligent, the elderly, the just plain stupid. Same story, I can't pay my loan. I look at the loan they're set on an Adjustable Rate Mortgage. That's all there is. "It's a bad loan" I'm told time and again. I agree with them, things like this should have never been allowed to come into existence. But then again no one made them sign the loan papers. Ultimately the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">responsiblity</span> is the person who signed the loan papers. People just don't want to own up to the fact that being an adult means that you take responsibility for your mistakes. I have to put on a stoic face and pretend that it doesn't bother me though it does. I look at their loans day after day. I hear the same thing. "Give me a fixed rate". I retort, "Why? You have an ARM loan, your payments are $500 a month, you aren't even paying the full interest and you can't afford that, and you're accruing negative amortization. Here's how it works if you want a fixed rate. Your mortgage is $150k. One a fixed rate besides paying the interest just the principal alone is going to be at least $1500 going on what is normal rate of 1% of your principal balance. And that's not including your interest. If you can't afford to pay $500 monthly how are you going to pay $1500 plus?" That usually slaps them with a dose of reality. I don't like to do it but that's my job. You get to stay but you on the other hand don't. It's all numbers just business. And <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">everyting</span> is Obama says.<br /><br />MTG has it worse, she's on the collections side, past due accounts. People try to dictate to her what they will pay on the loan. Doesn't work that way. Obama says that I don't have to pay my loan. Obama says you will give me a modification with 2% interest. Obama says that I don't owe anything anymore. Little do they know that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Obama's</span> plan is only for government backed loans, which few if any of the customers have. She gets yelled at, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">threatend</span> and called an awful person all day. "How can you live with yourself you miserable wretch, doing this kind of job" she tells me one lady told her today. She is on the verge of tears when we get into the car. She strong, doesn't cry while at work. But she gets more depressed and bitter everyday. It helps for me to listen while she vents. <br /><br />I turn on the stereo in the car on the way home. Peter <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Frampton's</span> "Baby I Love Your Way" plays. We listen to it in the background while MTG vents. I tell her about my crazy calls and we find consolation in each other. She clings to my one arm while I drive us home. "This is shit" she says while we enter the highway. "We need to come up with a plan b." I'm working on it in my head, mulling things over. What to do, what to do? <br /><br />As soon as we get home MTG pounces on me. We make love, and she falls asleep. She always falls asleep first. It's supposed to be the other way around, but I'm used to it now. I get up throw a load of clothes in the washer. I do the dishes while I play Alicia Keys softly in the living room so I don't wake MTG up. A few hours later she emerges groggy hair messy. She's in the mood for something sweet. She cuts up half of a bag of pears I bought and makes a cobbler and puts it in the oven. She gets sleepy before it's done and tells me she's off to bed. <br /><br />I straighten up the place a little more. I shuffle through some older record albums that I have. I've been in the habit of hanging on the wall in frames as artwork lately, so I pick a few good albums while I wait for the cobbler to hang up. Sgt. Pepper, an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Oceanlab</span> mix, Billy Joel 52<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">nd</span> St, and a few others that I have duplicates of and have no problem framing and hanging up. I loose myself in the mindless framing project. The timer goes off that MTG set, it scares the hell out of me cause its loud and sounds awful. I take out the cobbler and set it to cool. <br /><br />Opening up a cherry 7-up I sit on the couch and stare out the french doors to the patio. It's dark, I see the lime tree swaying a little in the wind. My mind wanders. I try to think of a way to get us out of our work, do something else, but it's just here say. Like MTG tells me, "As much as I hate my job, I hate not having one even more." I tell myself I'll find a way. What to do what to do? I notice a small hole in the weather stripping around the door and stare at it. In my mind the verses come to me. "I"m fixing a hole where the rain gets in, and stops my mind from wandering."Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-42679831993871120512009-02-05T20:28:00.002-06:002009-02-05T20:53:40.748-06:00Six ThingsSorry, sorry, this post is so late. We're even more sorry we've been gone for so long. Thanks for not forgetting about us. Details will come later. For now I've been tagged and I accept the challenge for the Six Sexy Ladies Meme.<br /><br />The Rules<br /><br />1. Link to the person who tagged you.<br />2. Post the rules on your blog.<br />3. Write six random things about yourself.<br />4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.<br />5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.<br />6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.<br /><br />Though honestly I probably won't tag anyone as almost everyone has already done this. <br /><br />1. Every time someone says the word "six" as in "six" meme's, or just six in general, I giggle like crazy. Which is because I'm immature and think of the scene in National Lampoon's European Vacation where they go knocking on doors saying, "We're looking for sex. Is this sex." Immature I know. "Dad that's German for six."<br /><br />2. When eating french fries, I put the ketchup on the fries before eating them. This drives Artful up the walls crazy as he hates it. I immensely love doing it now just to annoy him. he he he<br /><br />3. Stay away from me in the morning if I haven't had my caffeine. When I'm decaffeinated, it's not a pretty sight.<br /><br />4. I can make my ankles pop on command. Dunno how I can, but I can.<br /><br />5. It may be just me, but Asian food rocks.<br /><br />6. I horde napkins. I have tons of them all over the place. I'm always afraid that I will need them in an emergency. AD was stunned to find the glove compartment of my car completely stuffed with them. So much so that they came out in a big clump shaped like the compartment itself. Yes I know I need to throw the older ones away.<br /><br />There's a few weird things about me, though there are many many more. Perhaps someday I might be willing to share some more.Mix Tape Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00866147428073791506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-58228640053997210222008-10-29T21:47:00.003-05:002008-10-29T22:01:59.780-05:00Impending Doom and The Big Wicked Online PageantSorry for the lack of posts folks, things have been turbo on this end. Anyways, Monday the head attorney's that I work for shows up unannounced. This is a bad thing as since he's opened our office he's only been there twice and each time only for a few hours. Every time however he lets us know that he's coming so we rush like rabbits to make sure our desks and office looks generally clean and tidy, not that he really cares.<br /><br />But Monday, Monday was the day from hell. He walks through the door unannounced, along with the office manager from the head office on the east coast. He goes into our office managers room and stays there talking with our office manager for a good hour. We all sensed the impending doom. There were no smiles when coming in no nothing. Then our manager gets our small motley crew and we gather in the corner office. We're promptly told that our office will be closing, effective immediately for some and others a little bit later. Me being the little bit later group. Sucked the wind right out of all of us.<br /><br />See our office handles real estate law, for pretty much all 50 states. I basically handle problem cases where there's clouds on the property title. Not many people in the US do this. However with the housing boom going kaput, the main part of the business isn't getting that much money and well you know how it goes. Long story short, I will soon dear friends be out of a job. However knowing that we were heading down the crapper, I did a preemptive strike and started my own business doing what I do. See what I do can't really be done by that many people and well, the company may be going under but I've got more work than I can handle. So I've been away setting up my new business with Mix Tape Girl's help. So we've been like busy bees. So do excuse our lack of posting.<br /><br />As we've been busy though I haven't had time to go through old photo's of myself or MTG for Beth's online pageant. I think there's a picture of my brother and myself dressed like the Joker that my mom has somewhere. (Though it should be noted it wasn't during Halloween, it was just after the first Batman movie.) But honestly after I was about 10 all photographic record of me ceased to exist as my family was never one for photos. So in light of this I thought I'd do a gratuitous back of the head shot like Beth, with a kick. Had one of my fellow workers take this for me. Oh and by the way, the mask is always at my desk, not just for Halloween.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLHwujCDjEqPSM-qq3vHCqDk1ZCR7aebic4_ZDNkcbSle-vBLwDPZ_6FsSlGgzTmX4fwVP_HMBTtf2YKXVJPkh2L8LkK-bFPix3fsvWRxw_3eAWgjOJQrb_vuXGO4zEnTcx4mY/s1600-h/me+1.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLHwujCDjEqPSM-qq3vHCqDk1ZCR7aebic4_ZDNkcbSle-vBLwDPZ_6FsSlGgzTmX4fwVP_HMBTtf2YKXVJPkh2L8LkK-bFPix3fsvWRxw_3eAWgjOJQrb_vuXGO4zEnTcx4mY/s320/me+1.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262776478359450418" border="0" /></a>Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-60909894669446270522008-10-12T21:25:00.005-05:002008-10-12T22:42:16.894-05:00Be fairWe shuffle down the aisle. People putting carry-ons into overhead compartments. I see AD finding his seat towards the middle of the plane. Sadly I'm in the back, even though I'm with a friend. He smiles and blows me a kiss before I see him almost disappear, only the top of his head visible from the seat. I take my seat by the window. The back of the plane is crowded, but the front doesn't look so much. <br /><br />We tried to get our tickets together but since AD was able to come with us at last minute that wasn't able to happen. So we traveled separated by a few chairs. The lights dim and the stewards voice comes on. I'm watching our steward, he's an old man, probably in his late 70's, I'm not kidding. He can barely stand, and he doesn't look happy. He mutters out the flight safety instructions that few people ever listen to. He looks like he's in pain as he slowly fastens the display seat belt and then uses his arms to point out the emergency exits. As soon as he's done and the plane taxis down the runway, he takes his seat not to get up again until we level off. I can't help but think that with the economy the way it is, he had to start working again as retirement money just wasn't enough, and I worry about him. <br /><br />I watch out the window as the plane takes off. The engines whirring and clicking. The televisions mounted in the seat head showing what movies are available and gives you a free 15 minute preview of the Direct TV offered on the plane. I press the brightness button until the TV is turned off. I sit back and watch the land change. From over water to the city, to country, farm land, woods. I see the sun leaving us as day starts to become night. I stare out the window, and then raise myself up a little to check on AD. I see the top of his head so I know he's okay. <br /><br />It feels like we're climbing forever. I want to get up and check on AD but the seat belt sign is still on. I sigh and rest my head on the head rest. I stare down at my feet and wiggle my toes. Before I know it AD is tapping my shoulder. He tells me his whole row is empty as he makes his way to the bathroom. Asides from the back of the plane the front is mostly empty. I tell him that I'll be up there with him as soon as we level off. He nods and goes to the bathroom. I watch him after he's done and makes his way back to his seat.<br /><br />It seems like we climb and climb. The pilot never comes on to make the announcement that we can move about. I wait about 20 minutes before I finally just get up. I was to tell my friend I was moving but she's asleep. I hop over her and make my way to AD. There are tons of empty seats. Asides for the lady her child sitting behind AD the rows in front and beside him are all empty. I move up on him, he's asleep. I raise the arm rests and snuggle up with him, putting his arms around me. <br /><br />AD: Thank you.<br /><br />Me: For what?<br /><br />AD: For coming to sit with me. And for being you.<br /><br />I stroke his hair and he falls back to sleep, though his arms are tight around me. I feel ashamed that what ever decisions need to be made he always tells me, that let's just do what would be easier for me. He goes out of his way that things are always as easy for me as possible. I know that if I ask something that we need to do he'll respond with "Let's just do what's easier for you." And I accept the option easier for me, and for this I feel ashamed. I tell him that I can't always do what's easier for me, but he always makes it so we wind up doing it that way anyways. <br /><br />I sit there and watch him, tracing his face with my finger tips. We went to visit friends on the west coast. The entire time AD only knowing one other person besides me, and being kind to my friends. I laughed and talked and caught up and cried with my friends. I didn't realize that the entire week that we were there that I was only with AD for a few hours asides from going to sleep. But I didn't realize this till the night before we left. <br /><br />We were at a party that some of my friends were having. Sitting on chairs in the back yard of their house. It was just an everybody bring something kind of deal. Before we knew it there were at least a hundred people there in their tiny back yard. Sitting on the grass or wherever. AD got me a drink when we arrived and I immediately turned into the social butterfly that I am and sat down with some friends that I hadn't seen in forever. I caught up with a friend from long ago who just got divorced. We talked, I lost track of time, to my shame I lost track of AD. Fortunately my friend did not, and she reminded me of this.<br /><br />My Friend: Marriage is something that you have to work at. It's give and take, and you have to be fair. It's can't always be your way. You're going to do things that he's not going to want to do and vice versa. Such as being at a party where he knows no one, even if he does so, so you can be with your friends.<br /><br />And it hit me. I looked around, I didn't see him. I got panicked. My friend turned my head and I saw him, hidden in a shadow, in the corner of the yard by the fence, leaning against it and sipping his soda and doing his best to smile. I excused myself and worked my way through the crowd to get to him. He had spaced out and didn't even notice when I walked up to him. <br /><br />Me: Hey<br /><br />AD: Huh? Oh hey, what's up?<br /><br />Me: I'm sorry.<br /><br />AD: (looking confused) For what?<br /><br />Me: For making you do all these things for me when I know that you'd rather be somewhere else. <br /><br />AD: Don't worry about it. I want you to have fun with your friends. You only get to see them a couple of times a year anyways.<br /><br />Me: But I'm not being fair to you. Make me be fair.<br /><br />AD: You are being fair.<br /><br />Me: No I'm not, I'm being selfish. We can leave if you want.<br /><br />AD looks at me for a few moments.<br /><br />AD: I'd be lying if I said that I wanted to be here and I'd like to leave. I'm not good in really big crowds, they freak me out. And I'm not the people person you are. But I want you to enjoy being with your friends right now. Go be with them, I'll be fine here holding up the fence. When you're ready you know where to get me.<br /><br />Me: You're too good to me.<br /><br />AD: No I'm not.<br /><br />Me: You are. <br /><br />I kiss him, and he smiles. He tells me to go back and visit with my friends. I sit where I can see him this time and I watch as he walks around some only to make his way back to the empty corner. He does this a few times. I only visit for another 30 minutes before I decide to take him out of here. He reminds me of a flower getting choked out by tall grass, so I have to safe him. I tell everyone goodbye and we leave taking along our two friends that we're staying with. <br /><br />I wanted to ride back to the hotel to be better, but that didn't happen. One of my friends had a little too much to drink and was acting a fool. He was doing a crazy dance in the back seat to the music, talking very loud and laughing even louder. AD was driving, and I was flipping through the radio stations trying to find music that would be okay with everyone. And I flipped and flipped. After going through the stations about five times you could see a vain pop out on AD's head. He was getting upset, my friend was getting louder. Finally AD reached over and turned the radio off. He pulled into a gas station without saying a word, got out and started filling up the tank. I got out and went to tell him I'm sorry. He forced a smile and said it's ok, that he's not upset with me and just needed some air. I went inside the station to get him a Sprite and some asprin, and we continued on our way, all the way back in silence. Fortunately my friend having passed out by the time we got back in the car. <br /><br />AD didn't say anything when we got back to the hotel. Just a few answers to my questions here and there. I felt bad for having to make him put up with this, even I was annoyed. The next morning we left back for home, packing etc. We talked but its the average travel we need to get here and there busy talk. And now we were on the plane heading back home. <br /><br />I look out the window past AD. I see some city lights below us as we fly by. The lights sparkle light diamonds on a piece of black velvet. I hold AD's hand while he sleeps, and I whisper in his ear, "Make me be fair." Without warning I grab his head and he opens his eyes. I kiss him. The older gentleman steward walks past us without saying a word, he knows better than to interupt, but he rolls his eyes. It's ok though, two less people to have to cater to. I kiss AD, and I didn't stop till we touched down at home. And when we did, I whispered to him again. "Make me be fair."Mix Tape Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00866147428073791506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-23099528142871548262008-10-04T07:57:00.002-05:002008-10-04T08:13:23.970-05:00I like moosePterodactyl Lady: Owww..my arm and shoulder hurts so much!!<br /><br />Me: Take some Advil or something.<br /><br />Sane Lady: You're probably getting carpal tunnel.<br /><br />Pterodactyl Lady: It hurts everytime I move my arm.<br /><br />Sane Lady: Does it hurt when you're typing?<br /><br />Pterodactyl Lady: Yes a lot! Especially when I'm using the moose.<br /><br />All together: The moose??!!! (with a puzzled look on our faces)<br /><br />Pterodactyl Lady: Yes the moose! See! (picks up the mouse)<br /><br />The rest of our team busts out laughing.<br /><br />Me: Yeah, my arm would hurt too if I was moving a moose around all day.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuxTADO04H1Xr6oPC5xlRWmcu2IaL0RwayrgN6NnFtfDxg4Owdp0K4qGgDpWzt6elahdDF2JwXOjw7K1gKqwZM-hjyS7Fq5wGJx7NynmgBR7fSmKdtvo5u2bZX3QcekG6FqwY/s1600-h/rockybullwinkless.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPuxTADO04H1Xr6oPC5xlRWmcu2IaL0RwayrgN6NnFtfDxg4Owdp0K4qGgDpWzt6elahdDF2JwXOjw7K1gKqwZM-hjyS7Fq5wGJx7NynmgBR7fSmKdtvo5u2bZX3QcekG6FqwY/s320/rockybullwinkless.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253285923726076850" border="0" /></a>Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-80527865944898073752008-09-03T22:08:00.002-05:002008-09-04T01:28:50.191-05:00Trouble MeThe night is warm and the air conditioner is blowing cool air on the bed. AD's been knocked out since 6 pm. I watch as he sleeps, his chest slowly rising and falling. I feel guilty because I know its me that has him so exhausted. <br /><br />I reach over and take off his glasses. He fell asleep with them on and they are making little marks on his face. He slightly moans as I remove them from his face. I can't help but caress his stubble a little and trace the outline of his lips. He somehow smiles though he's sound asleep. Exhausted from taking me to the doctors office weekly and picking up my meds, and taking up all the extra slack that I usually try to do for us. <br /><br />I feel guilty as I keep him up till past midnight almost every night simply to talk. I get up and grab his cover from the closet and place it over him. He remains motionless, and snores just slightly audible. I decide to head down stairs so not to disturb him, and kiss him before I walk downstairs.<br /><br />Hunger reaches me as I get to the kitchen. I realize that I really haven't eaten a meal all day. I fix myself some tuna sandwiches and turn on the TV. "On the Waterfont" is playing on AMC and I keep the volume so low that it's hardly even audible. Not really paying attention I concentrate more on eating my sandwiches. The tuna tastes good to me, as I rarely ever eat it. <br /><br />I think to myself that things are now pretty much back to normal. We went to Florida and had a wonderful time. Then I came back and got sick, and well things happen. But it's all over now. AD going out of his way to make sure that I was okay the entire time. I put the doctors visits and hospital stays out of my mind and stare at the ceiling, the light from the TV flickering and causing shadows. <br /><br />The movie quickly loses my interests and I turn off the TV and sit in the light of the lamp that's on. I take another bite of my sandwich and chew it slowly, the silence of the room getting to me. Not able to take the silence I turn on the stereo. 10,000 Maniacs plays and I relax on the couch, staring at my half eatten sandwich. <br /><br />I hear a loud commotion from upstairs. AD is up and rushes downstairs looking upset.<br /><br />AD: What time is it what day is it?<br /><br />Me: It's 9.<br /><br />AD: 9!! 9!! I'm late for work, why didn't you wake me up?!! Crap Crap Crap!!<br /><br />Me: Uhm...it's 9 PM Weds. It's not tomorrow yet. <br /><br />AD: Oh....I thought I was running late for work. Sacred myself there for a moment.<br /><br />Me: Silly boy.<br /><br />AD sits next to me, his hair a mess. <br /><br />Me: Can you see?<br /><br />AD: Huh?<br /><br />Me: Your glasses?<br /><br />AD: I didn't even notice, completely forgot them.<br /><br />Me: They on the dresser on my side. You fell asleep with them on.<br /><br />AD: Thanks.<br /><br />We sit on the couch, Trouble Me playing now. AD finishes my sandwhiches. I place my head between his shoulder and neck, smelling his cologne. We listen to the rest of the CD, as I fall asleep on AD's shoulder. I rouse myself when AD finally gets up to turn off the stereo. I smile as he picks up the plate and cup that I used, even though I tried to pick them up first. <br /><br />Me: Don't spoil me too much. I can turn into a brat.<br /><br />AD: It's okay. <br /><br />AD: Thanks for taking care of me. <br /><br />Me: Uhm...isn't that the other way around?<br /><br />AD: No I don't think so.<br /><br />Me: If you say so.<br /><br />AD: I do.Mix Tape Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00866147428073791506noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-73516641130674682392008-08-20T21:54:00.001-05:002008-08-20T21:55:58.072-05:00We're back?Sorry it's been almost a month since either of us have posted. Rest assured we're okay. Well..kinda, MTG went and got all sick on me so. That's a update for later. Much to tell, so little time to do it. One of us will post soon.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-81017733008328435632008-07-28T23:05:00.004-05:002008-12-10T00:07:24.204-06:00Rrrraaaaarrrrr!!!!It doesn't matter how hard you try to make something perfect. Someone's bound to come along and f*%k it up.<br /><br />I'm sorry I'm a bit upset. It's AD's birthday Friday and I decided earlier this year to take him to Florida with some friends to get away. I rented a condo, squared all the details and got everything ready. Then the airline comes along and screws things up. Okay I admit that airfare was cheap. I decided to try SpiritAir as their prices seemed good and well it's too good to be true. Yes we got cheap tickets but they canceled our flight.<br /><br />Blast damn!! We were supposed to leave early Thursday morning so we could have the day to settle down and get supplies and stuff. But no our flight is canceled and we were put on an evening flight that won't have us there till after 10 pm, and then it's a 2 hours drive to the condo I rented.<br /><br />This totally screws up my itinerary. Yes I made an itinerary, I'm far too organized for my own good. So I've been huffing and puffing all day. AD keeps telling me to calm down but I'm giving him my look that says "Don't tell me to calm down", even though I know I shouldn't. Gaaahhh!! I'm just so pissed. Damn you SpiritAir, bastard motherf*%kers!!! Ruining my plans for a small vacation.<br /><br />Sorry I'm ready to stomp buildings like Godzilla here. I will have my revenge.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoj3GCSl0BCthGvKe0TogxGMOw5aGsxFtrx4pCmWeJ3_odMm8ok9oycfgb0ZLkXRyvwCtF5Le5lhV7zlXSGxsMMxxvPux7cZ_wr1RU8VISkr0NTYG6joGffvuX2Pzx2_esR4pqWw/s1600-h/godzilla1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoj3GCSl0BCthGvKe0TogxGMOw5aGsxFtrx4pCmWeJ3_odMm8ok9oycfgb0ZLkXRyvwCtF5Le5lhV7zlXSGxsMMxxvPux7cZ_wr1RU8VISkr0NTYG6joGffvuX2Pzx2_esR4pqWw/s320/godzilla1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228284439426279730" border="0" /></a>Mix Tape Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00866147428073791506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-61219256662186675852008-07-23T23:02:00.003-05:002008-07-23T23:42:12.598-05:00Eleanor RigbyEvery morning for the past year on the drive to work she's there. A homeless woman at the corner intersection, sitting behind a telephone transformer, staring out into the world. Her face is ruddy and red, she's overweight, her cigarette slowly burns in her hand. Her short hair peaks over her face from time to time from the scarf she wraps around her head.<br /><br />I've never seen her move, she just sits and stares. The grassy area where she sits and lays down is worn down, only the dirt is there now. Every so often a Meals-On-Wheels person stops to drop her off some breakie. <br /><br />I see her for the briefest of moments everyday. No more than 2 minutes tops depending on traffic. But she's become a constant, a routine. I see her everyday while I wait at the light, waiting for my turn to move ahead and face the world. <br /><br />I can't help but wonder what she thinks of when she stares out into the world. Why does she stay here? She doesn't look sick or frightening. Is she here because she can't deal with the world anymore? Did she loose someone? Did her heart break? Did she loose her job? Does she have family? Why does she always have Dr. Pepper bottles with her? Why don't the pigeons bother her? What does she think of the rap/rock/reagaeton music that blares from the cars as she sits there? Why, why why? <br /><br />I can't help but look when I see her. MTG notices her too but never really looks. Usually she's leaning back in the seat with her eyes closed, or putting on makeup. I often think to myself to someday pick her up something to eat and bring it to her and simply ask her why she's there. I think this but I never do it. She doesn't ask for money from cars like so many other homeless people. She doesn't make a spectacle of herself like the church people on the corner asking for funds. She doesn't scream at the top of her lungs like the pep-rally girls collecting funds and offering car washes that stand on the corner either. She has no mess around her, no possessions. She sits and stares, ever the constant feature.<br /><br />But then this past month, she disappeared. At first I thought that maybe she moved to go to the convenient store for smokes and something to drink. But day after day she's been gone. Slowly the patch of grass that was worn out has come back. I wonder if the business where she used to sit by that was forever closed but recently re-opened forced her to move. I wonder if she was picked up by the social services. I wonder if she pulled herself together and got on with her life. I wonder if the summer heat made her seek shelter at a homeless center. I wonder if she simply moved somewhere else. I wonder if she's okay. I wonder. I imagine, it's easy if you try. <br /><br />And then today I see her. But not where I imagined I would. I see her in a place I don't want to see her in. MTG brings me the obits and there she is, Jane Doe, MTG points this out to me. I wish I would have seen her as the lottery winner picture instead of this. I wish she could have found what she was looking for. I wish that she didn't become a small part of my life that insignificant as it was, made me stop and think every morning about how fortunate I am. I wish I would have stopped and brought her food and talked to her at least once. I wish that she simply moved to another spot and was fine. I wished that maybe she was picked up with social services and was being taken care of. I wish she was okay. But it's not to be. There's Jane Doe, staring back. No family, no friends. Buried with no name, no one came, no one cared. <br /><br />MTG: I wonder why they couldn't find her name?<br /><br />Me: She has a name.<br /><br />MTG: How do you know?<br /><br />Me: Eleanor Rigby<br /><br />MTG smiles and runs her hand through my hair as she walks past me. She grabs the clothes she was folding and takes them upstairs. I look at the obit one more time and grab a pen. I scratch out Jane Doe and write above it, "Eleanor Rigby."<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?j1y1m1xoyym">Eleanor Rigby - Ray Charles</a>Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-68965855637783988122008-07-22T18:52:00.002-05:002008-07-22T19:29:05.073-05:00Like an MC at a Fever in the DJ BoothAnd so it is. Air Supply was not played at the party. But MTG had a great time anyways, even though it wasn't a party for us.<br /><br />The funny thing is I prepared the list including all the songs that were on the preset list. And as I was playing the preset list this happened. One of the guests, a little old lady, (I just don't say that, I mean she was old and little and frail) came up to me while I was playing the pre-chosen song "Because you loved me" by Celine Dion (I playing this song reminding myself that this is what is wanted by the host) and said matter of factly, "This song sucks. Look you've cleared out the dance floor! Play something we can dance to." <br /><br />I couldn't help but smile, I wanted to hug her. But I had to inform her that this was the set list that was chosen and it was not exactly up to me to not play these songs. Besides at that point they were cutting cake and no one was dancing anyways. But a few moments after this older lady tells me this, the husband of the couple who's anniversary it was comes up to me. <br /><br />Him: Hey can we kick it up a notch. Who choose this music?<br /><br />AD: Your daughter did. And heck yeah I can get this place moving.<br /><br />He looked at the list and asides from a few songs to keep, he pretty much gave me free control. In no time at all I had electric slides, soul trains, twists, salsas, merengues, and everything else going. Everyone was sweaty and having fun. <br /><br />Sadly I didn't get to dance but to all but two songs with MTG. My setup was less then stellar. I actually got there early but the person who had the keys to the club house was no where to be found. And when I did get there, about 30 mins till starting time, I was aghast to find that there was no where for me to set up or a table to put my stuff on like I was told there would be. So basically I set up my speakers at the far end of the dance floor, plugged in my amps and mixers and everything else; set it around a lone chair I was able to steal from a back room, and played the music from my laptop that literally had to sit on my lap almost the entire time. <br /><br />And funnier is that there was nothing to drink but water and tea, so MTG brought two bottles of wine and left them in the car and snuck out every now and again to get us some drinks. Felt like we were in school. But I'm glad everyone had a good time.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-40300233910575395412008-07-16T22:47:00.002-05:002008-07-16T22:55:02.869-05:00Air SupplyOkay this is actually a reader participation post. Mix Tape Girl uhm.."volunteered" me to DJ an anniversary party for some acquaintances. Said acquaintances are a bit older than the crowd I would normally DJ for. No biggie. It's going to be a night of oldies, disco and slow dances, I'm resigned to that, though I may sneak in a remix version of something between sets. Anyways. <br /><br />Now I've been given a set list to play. Something along the lines of the following:<br /><br />1. Somebody like you - Keith Urban<br />2. Laughter in the Rain - Neil Sedaka<br />3. Dancing in the moonlight - King Harvest<br />4. Everyday - James Taylor<br />5. Because you loved me - Celine Dion<br />6. Like a star - Corinne Bailey Rae<br />7. Somewhere over the rainbow - Israel Kamakawiwo'ole<br />8. Come away with me - Norah Jones<br />9. Dance party favorites Cha Cha Slide - Mr. C<br />10. Outstanding - The Gap Band<br />11. Good times - Chic<br />12. Electric slide<br />13. This will be an everlasting love - Natalie Cole<br />14. Love train - The O'Jays<br />15. Giving you the best that I got - Anita Baker<br />16. Stand by me - Ben E. King<br />17. The first time ever I saw your face - Roberta Flack<br />18. Fields of gold - Sting<br />19. You are the sunshine of my life - Stevie Wonder<br />20. Don't it make my brown eyes blue - Crystal Gayle<br />21. I'll be around - The Spinners<br />22. Danny's song - Anne Murray<br />23. The way you look tonight - Frank Sinatra<br />24. Let's get loud - Jennifer Lopez<br />25. No one - Alicia Keys<br />26. Quando, quando, quando - Michael Buble<br />27. Save the last dance for me - Michael Buble<br />28. Boogie oogie oogie - A Taste of Honey<br />29. The power of love - Huey Lewis & the News<br /><br />And the rest of the 4 + hours I have to devise myself. When asked how long to play I received the vauge answer from 7:45 to maybe...midnight? Which left my mouth quite opened. Anways the debate MTG and I are having is that she thinks that I should include some Air Supply. I think that I shouldn't. I'm vaugley acquainted with these people and even though their cool, I don't know if their Air Supply folks. But MTG say yes, I say no. So I'm asking you bloggie people. What do you think? Yes or no? No is fine but if Yes, can you give some hints of your favourite Air Supply songs that might be good for an anniversary party.<br /><br />A bet is riding on this so don't let me down.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-35294434090417334992008-07-15T19:03:00.004-05:002008-12-10T00:07:24.374-06:00And the Award goes to....After much debating, here are Mix Tape Girl and I picks for the "<a href="http://arteypico.blogspot.com/">Arte y Pico</a>" awards. Some are our own, some are joint picks.<br /><br />1. <a href="http://cup-of-coffey.blogspot.com/">Cup of Coffey</a>: One of the first blogs I came across in the blogging world and to me one of the best. (Okay, amendment. Per MTG "to us one of the best") Beth's undying love for REM, her witty and funny writings, about music and life are all too good to pass up. Her Mix Tape Friday's are a tribute to her true love of music, and inspires others to think how a song can change your life or at least your day. As she isn't a DJ, she very well needs to be one. One of the sweetest gals out there, she's fun and loving and a great friend to have. (AD & MTG)<br /><br />2. <a href="http://www.restaurantgal.com/">Restaurant Gal</a>: I don't quite remember how I came across this gem of a site. Restaurant Gal has had me hooked since the first read. Her stories flow like poetry, and can pull at the strings of your heart. From thoughts about the restaurant business to personal reflections, this is a must read. And most importantly she answered my question to boot. Know I know to always tip even when picking up take out myself. (AD pick)<br /><br />3. <a href="http://aboxofnothing.blogspot.com/">My Head Is A Box Filled With Nothing</a>: Another joint favorite. Gizmorox provides sweetness and angst delivered up oh so greatly. We agree we love her quirks. She can deliver sarcasm towards work, gush over a cartoon bunny, leave you laughing or with a tear. Definately someone to have a drink with. Cheers to you Gizmo. (AD & MTG pick)<br /><br />4. <a href="http://cpunchmansworld.blogspot.com/">Coaster Punchman's World</a>: Again I don't remember how I found out about this blog. It was probably during lunch while my cheeks were filled with Ramen Noodles. Anyways, CP is great. He and Poor George can make you smile anytime. Find out about Mama Gin, arrogant sales reps, lovely cats, what's cookin' (literally) with George and lest we forget, the Mary Tyler Moore Service. Which MTG has had the privilege of experiencing. (AD pick)<br /><br />5. <a href="http://www.culinaryconcoctionsbypeabody.com/about-me/">Culinary Concoctions by Peabody</a>: Cooking with a personal twist. Peabody's love of cooking drew me in. What drew me in more is cooking for a picky eater. Much like AD, yes that's right he's a picky eater too. Little gold flakes of personal reflections along with receipes fill her wonderful blog. From childhood memories to cakes, I love this blog. Have a good read and try making something new, even if a Creme Brulee turns out like mine to be a chocolate omlete, there's no going wrong here. (MTG pick)<br /><br />So here's your awards. Enjoy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTcYP7dJ_p2R707mK5L4DACN9NCHYdn7eEsxd2OzpC_a5GeKCgn20Fytb3fuvU1GTjFHw_eqY5IjBMGqMSW93QBzahEWoImlGBuash255eioVQ6TVdQ04hm-NWFOwSiBRWnwU/s1600-h/premio+arte+y+pico.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTcYP7dJ_p2R707mK5L4DACN9NCHYdn7eEsxd2OzpC_a5GeKCgn20Fytb3fuvU1GTjFHw_eqY5IjBMGqMSW93QBzahEWoImlGBuash255eioVQ6TVdQ04hm-NWFOwSiBRWnwU/s320/premio+arte+y+pico.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223415982933061842" border="0" /></a><br />Sorry if we missed some of you. We'll have to do an honorary award cermiony for the others, where everybody gets a ribbon. Yay!!Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-68092337617095816792008-07-13T22:45:00.003-05:002008-12-10T00:07:24.554-06:00And the Oscar goes to...Okay its not an Oscar but it's the next best thing. The ever so awesome and delightful "<a href="http://prone2whimsy.blogspot.com/">Prone to Whimsy</a>" awarded Mix Tape Girl and myself the <a href="http://arteypico.blogspot.com/2008/05/premio-arte-y-pico-para.html">Arte y pico</a> awards. I shall have to make a special shelf just for this picture.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gDitcyqXcpaG8gdUiYjm0NSbEn8_KEwRtH6Bq8uI-xVfLgD7kztV77n6CLG2HtD9aMEa0IAnN-fwXZrjL-tjlWSaNqZERx9v_DmWheWnPpl7LwT43d8scdB3R90scoWiMCEz/s1600-h/premio+arte+y+pico.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gDitcyqXcpaG8gdUiYjm0NSbEn8_KEwRtH6Bq8uI-xVfLgD7kztV77n6CLG2HtD9aMEa0IAnN-fwXZrjL-tjlWSaNqZERx9v_DmWheWnPpl7LwT43d8scdB3R90scoWiMCEz/s320/premio+arte+y+pico.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222714393549407154" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So here are the rules of how this works. <br /><br />1) You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award, creativity, design, interesting material, and also contributes to the blogger community, no matter of language.<br /><br /><div>2) Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.<br /><br /></div> <div>3) Each award-winning, has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the ward itself.<br /><br /></div> <div>4) Award-winning and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of "<a href="http://arteypico.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">Arte y pico</a>"blog , so everyone will know the origin of this award.<br /><br /></div> <div>5) To show these rules.<br /><br /></div> Award winners are:... "<br /><br />Our committee is going over the list of nominee's, stay tuned folks.Artful Dodgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12660157347029296618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-28958390898558248732008-07-13T22:42:00.001-05:002008-07-13T22:42:43.863-05:00Blackbird singing in the dead of the nightIt's 1:30 am, we've been tossing and turning all night. We actually went to be early and thought we'd be good and sleep. Both of us getting up early for work all week long and feeling it's effects. For a weekend we tried to keep this one quiet. Trying to avoid being sucked into an invite to a gathering from our friends. Not that we don't love them, we just need some R&R. <br /><br />We literally ran (ok a running jog) away from some friends when we came across them. Knowing full well they were going to ask us over, and be stuck there till midnight or so at their house watching movies. I'm sorry but that just wasn't us this weekend. So we ran and hid, giggling to ourselves. I don't think our friends thought anything of it, knowing that we're a couple of goofs.<br /><br />So we stayed in. We sat on the couches, sprawled out, reading books and magazines, listening to music. I've taken up knitting and was busy making a blanket for a friend that just had a baby. Time passed and we grew tired. We didn't say anything to each other but were happy in our silence. The music played, Otis Redding coming softly from the stereo. Eventually we were just starring at the ceiling. Listening to the hum of the ceiling fan and the shadows it made in the light. <br /><br />Eventually peeling ourselves off the couches, we headed upstairs and to bed. It was only 10 pm. We fell asleep quickly, but alas it wasn't to last. Before I knew it, it was 1 pm and I was wide awake. I tried to just lay there wishing for the sleep to come back, but it didn't work. Staying quiet I reached for my mp3 player that I normally keep by my side of the bed, but it wasn't there. I forgot I moved it when I cleaned up yesterday. I turned slowly to see if AD was sound asleep. He wasn't, in the darkness his eyes were looking at me. <br /><br />AD: Can't sleep either?<br /><br />Me: No.<br /><br />Slowly we roused ourselves up and turned on the TV. There wasn't really anything on. Old movies and re-runs, and soft core porn on the premium channels. After a while we turned off the TV and turned on the stereo. Dar Williams "Two Sides Of The River", beckoned us to sleep. Her sweet smokey voice softly speaking to us through the speakers. <br /><br />AD was thumbing through a magazine, to occupy myself I grabbed his free hand and was examining its features. Old cuts, and scratches, fights from long ago, injuries from play, oddly enough even a stab wound on his left palm. After a while AD turns to me.<br /><br />AD: I want some ice cream.<br /><br />Me: That sounds like a great idea.<br /><br />Sadly none was to be found in the freezer. So doing what most insane people do, being around 2 am faced with insomnia, we drove to the 24 hours Wal-Mart to get some. AD changed, I pretty much went in my PJ's. Fortunately this seems to be somewhat standard attire for midnight runs to 24 hours Wal-Marts. <br /><br />We took the long way to the ice cream. Looking at clothes, picking up some light bulbs. I passed a mother with her little girl, with the cutest cheeks I've ever seen. The little girl was starting to fall asleep. She told me she takes her here at night when she gets fussy and they can't sleep. They walk around till she's out and then goes home. <br /><br />We headed to the electronics section and rummaged through the $3 and $5 clearance DVD's, which had be just restocked. AD feeling that Lethal Weapon 4 was now worthy enough to be bought for $3 dollars. I picked out some old cartoons, of Popeye and Casper for whatever reason compeled me to do so. As we walked we noticed others who basically looked like us. A motley crew, some dressed, most in PJ's. Walking zombies of insomnia, going through clothes racks, buying shampoo's they've never tried before.<br /><br />We finally got to the ice cream, which was on sale for $2.98. Yay!! Seeing as it was on sale, we stocked up. Banana Split, Snickers, Pecan Praline, Mint Chocolate Chip, Sara Lee Cheesecake, and Rocky Road. We bought nuts and banana's to mix in with the mix too. <br /><br />We checked out and selected a few final non-necessities from the goodies around the register, gums and candies beckoned to us. And made the short drive home, listening to The Beatles White Album. As the street lights flicked by illuminating us ever few feet I tried to wonder who was Prudence, and the story behind Bungalow Bill. We pulled into home while George's Guitar gently weeped. <br /><br />AD: I miss George, he ruled.<br /><br />We put away our goodies and made us some sundaes. AD briming with excitement on the Sara Lee Cheesecake ice cream we found. Cheesecake is his kryptonite. I settled for Banana Split and added real banana's and nuts for effect. We turned the TV on in the living room and settled down to eat ice cream and watch Rio Bravo on AMC. Dean Martin is okay in the movie but I like Ricky Nelson better, to me he's much cuter.<br /><br />About half-way through we finish our ice cream and I turn off the TV as we're really not watching it. We head upstairs and brush our teeth again. It's almost 4:30 am as we slink back into bed. Staring at each other and making faces, still not being able to sleep.<br /><br />I move closer and put my arms around AD, his breath smelling like mint. We lay there for a few minutes in silence. Then AD almost silently starts siging.<br /><br />AD: Blackbird signing in the dead of the night, take these broken wings and learn to fly, all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise......<br /><br />Me: Blackbird signing in the dead of the night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see, all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free...<br /><br />Before we could get to another verse in we fall asleep, I wake up and notice it's 1 pm on Sunday.Mix Tape Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00866147428073791506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37736845.post-30723093568058535682008-07-10T22:40:00.002-05:002008-07-10T22:45:36.390-05:00HelpI'm in quite the conundrum. I've 75 songs or a couple of albums to download on emusic.com before last months downloads reset in a couple of days. I don't have any idea what to download. Anyone have any ideas. Even AD is stumped right now, but he's forgiven due to the crappy week. Any ideas? I have till Sunday when they reset.<br /><br />Let me know some of your favorites that might be found on emusic. Seriously I need recommendations or else I just might waste a download on the Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull soundtrack. Yikes!!Mix Tape Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00866147428073791506noreply@blogger.com4