This is political post.
The Republicans have drawn their line in the sand, in the process putting us ALL at risk. And they still might not get what they want.
Over the past few weeks, the Republicans have made what is usually a non-issue, the raising of the federal debt ceiling (FDC), into a potential world threatening conundrum. The FDC has been raised more than 100 times since it was first enacted in 1917, at least five times under the previous administration alone. But now, suddenly, it's a issue that can't be rubber stamped and can't be looked at as anything less than THE most important piece of legislation in America...possibly the world - right now. And since one of the two parties talking has pretty much said they WILL not negotiate, I begin to wonder how long it will before anyone else recognizes the tactics of terrorists in our own leaders.
One man's revolutionary is another man's terrorist. Only history will grade us.
And then the Republican lead negotiator Rep. Cantor walked out of the talks and insisted the President get involved. And this kids, is where it stops being about the economy, or America, or principles, or honor or anything ...other than politics. If this were the hood, the appropriate phrase would "staying in your lane". Because to the Republican elite, this isn't about anything other than hurting Obama. One has to wonder, now that Schmaucher has finally said it out loud, how far will the Republicans go to make a point?
I'm not sure if Cantor wants nothing more than to be able to say he faced down the President or is just too chickenshit to take the lead role. We know Sen.McConnell would love to say he did it. But I do know the Republicans are positioning themselves to be able to say the President lead us into this hole. Especially the Senator, who wants nothing more make Obama a one term President, damn the rest of us. And they can't really do that if the President is "doing what he's constitutionally mandated to do" which is wait for the bill to come to him. Even as I listened today, the conservative machine talking points 4pm email finally got read and suddenly the President needs to "do his job and lead." became the shrill cry. Which means show up at Capitol Hill and let us berate you in public. They're calling him out with everything they have.
But Obama is a former constitutional law professor. And a bright guy. And he's got a bright team. And as he indicated in his speech, he ain't going for it. The only way to get the mud not to stick is to not get in the mud. Which is possibly why Cantor was ducking away. Because if it in late July comes down to principle or people, anyone who chooses principle over financial Armageddon is going to get vilified by the world. And Cantor likes Congress, they have a great gym. And unfortunately, the Republicans have hitched their wagon to group who will vilify them if they they don't chose principle over people. So it's a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. Their only hope is the President backing down.
Then there is the "nuclear option". The ones the Republican's don't want to envision. Under the worst of circumstances, and probably using the same lawyers that said "water-boarding" didn't qualify as torture, the President could potentially order the Treasury to just ignore the debt ceiling. This is based on the theory that since Congress passed the bills, and the President is bound to enforce those bills, that any subsequent limitation by that Congress overruled by the original spending legislation. The Democrats may not have much of a backbone, but they have pulled the trigger in just this same way on the Patient Protection Act (Obamacare). To say they wouldn't again is ludicrous, if it would save the country and the world. The Republicans will be up arms of course, essentially screaming we should have destroyed the world...
But if Obama does has to go that route, talk about energizing his base! Wait. Would that be bad?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Did I just do that?
Ramblings Post #151
I don't really have anything to put here, but I was informed once that without these little lead-ins, these trailers up to the main event, it just doesn't read the same. Thanks Schmoopy. So now I gotta type something here that loosely ties in with what follows. Although sometimes it doesn't, kinda like this. Or maybe I'm weak from hunger since I restarted my diet to today, which accounts for the decision I made that is chronicled in this installment. There, now it links up. Can stop now?

I've just had an ohnosecond.
My book reading has been reduced from novels, five part trilogies and epic historical or fantasy sagas to magazines as of late. This is because anything I can't read and be done with in 10 minutes not related to school is not really allowed. I'm getting by on furtive reads of the articles in Men's Health, Vanity Fair, National Geographic, GQ and Esquire, with the occasional Atlantic or Mother Jones thrown in. But to indulge, I also pickup copies of Renovation Style and various travel magazines - Conde Nast Traveler, Travel & Leisure, and Budget Travel. Yes, I know, its very sad to call that an indulgence.
But I really want to travel someday. When I was kid I used raid the brochures of the travel agency down the street from Dad's shop, and would study the layouts of cruise ships and resorts, area attractions and the foods I would at when I eventually made it there. Part of it was a my imagination and a fascination with exotic places, part of it a desire to be anywhere else other than the really small town in South Carolina I grew up in. Even now online I look at bike trips, scooter tours, catamarans, hiking, cooking tours, wine tours...that need to just get out and go calls at me.
And yet, I don't travel. This is sad. Very sad. I mean like no where. I live in Atlanta and I can barely get to the south side of Atlanta. I traveled more as itinerant college student.
But someone I know also loves travel. And actually does. And so I was going to get her a monthly subscription to Budget Travel, because they have some great deals in the back. Great deals. And I'd hoped to go with her to one of the many places I've storied about, once I had break. But today, I was looking around and low and behold I found Budget Travel's web site. And their expanded Great Deal section. And because I'm a great guy, knowing she'd be interested, I sent a link to my favorite little....
Ohnosecond.
The term "kid in a candy store" comes to mind. Cat out of the bag. Pandora's box. E-ticket. An unlimited gas card and an open highway.
A sudden thousand "What ifs?" popped into my head even as my finger clicked the mouse. A sudden thousand possibilities that caused a sudden feeling in my gut that made me wonder when I'd gotten on the roller coaster. It's not like I haven't contemplated the possibility before of things not working out as I would hope, it's just I hadn't actually thought about that in a long time. And I got a good imagination. Let's just say I had gotten real comfortable with hope, and maybe I just needed a reminder that hope isn't as solid as the dream its built upon. When you know you're going to get hit, you involuntarily flinch. Self preservation. I flinched.
Conflicted. I want her to go, to see the world, to chase her dreams. But then I want... to go with her? To have her wait for me? To not go until I'm ready? I do, I so do. But then why would I not want her to be all she can be, do all she can do and still say I love....
Here's hoping she sends some great postcards and takes some pretty pictures....
Barkeep...I need the cheap vodka. Cheaper than that.
I don't really have anything to put here, but I was informed once that without these little lead-ins, these trailers up to the main event, it just doesn't read the same. Thanks Schmoopy. So now I gotta type something here that loosely ties in with what follows. Although sometimes it doesn't, kinda like this. Or maybe I'm weak from hunger since I restarted my diet to today, which accounts for the decision I made that is chronicled in this installment. There, now it links up. Can stop now?

I've just had an ohnosecond.
My book reading has been reduced from novels, five part trilogies and epic historical or fantasy sagas to magazines as of late. This is because anything I can't read and be done with in 10 minutes not related to school is not really allowed. I'm getting by on furtive reads of the articles in Men's Health, Vanity Fair, National Geographic, GQ and Esquire, with the occasional Atlantic or Mother Jones thrown in. But to indulge, I also pickup copies of Renovation Style and various travel magazines - Conde Nast Traveler, Travel & Leisure, and Budget Travel. Yes, I know, its very sad to call that an indulgence.
But I really want to travel someday. When I was kid I used raid the brochures of the travel agency down the street from Dad's shop, and would study the layouts of cruise ships and resorts, area attractions and the foods I would at when I eventually made it there. Part of it was a my imagination and a fascination with exotic places, part of it a desire to be anywhere else other than the really small town in South Carolina I grew up in. Even now online I look at bike trips, scooter tours, catamarans, hiking, cooking tours, wine tours...that need to just get out and go calls at me.
And yet, I don't travel. This is sad. Very sad. I mean like no where. I live in Atlanta and I can barely get to the south side of Atlanta. I traveled more as itinerant college student.
But someone I know also loves travel. And actually does. And so I was going to get her a monthly subscription to Budget Travel, because they have some great deals in the back. Great deals. And I'd hoped to go with her to one of the many places I've storied about, once I had break. But today, I was looking around and low and behold I found Budget Travel's web site. And their expanded Great Deal section. And because I'm a great guy, knowing she'd be interested, I sent a link to my favorite little....
Ohnosecond.
The term "kid in a candy store" comes to mind. Cat out of the bag. Pandora's box. E-ticket. An unlimited gas card and an open highway.
A sudden thousand "What ifs?" popped into my head even as my finger clicked the mouse. A sudden thousand possibilities that caused a sudden feeling in my gut that made me wonder when I'd gotten on the roller coaster. It's not like I haven't contemplated the possibility before of things not working out as I would hope, it's just I hadn't actually thought about that in a long time. And I got a good imagination. Let's just say I had gotten real comfortable with hope, and maybe I just needed a reminder that hope isn't as solid as the dream its built upon. When you know you're going to get hit, you involuntarily flinch. Self preservation. I flinched.
Conflicted. I want her to go, to see the world, to chase her dreams. But then I want... to go with her? To have her wait for me? To not go until I'm ready? I do, I so do. But then why would I not want her to be all she can be, do all she can do and still say I love....
Here's hoping she sends some great postcards and takes some pretty pictures....
Barkeep...I need the cheap vodka. Cheaper than that.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
A Quick Restaurant Review - BLT Steak
I haven't really gone out to dinner with anyone since...well, you know, but Shade was up in arms about me doing something to celebrate my birthday. For her day she's flown places, hosted dinner parties, etc, and the idea of somebody not actively celebrating was mystifying to her. After a few false starts, and a suggestion from a most surprising source, we ended up at BLT Steak at the W hotel downtown.
It's small, relatively speaking, and it's got one of those paper menus that they print everyday because they're always changing something. And it's pricy, I mean the hamburger was the price of dinner for two at your average mid-market sit down dinner spot. It's what you'd expect from a W hotel, in other words - very nice. All cool muted browns and glossy wood finish tables. The service was especially good, with forks flying and napkins being re-folded when you got up and had to leave the table. If you've never been someplace like that once, you need to go, it's a different kind of service.
And, they have an absolutely excellent selection of whiskeys, including something for $65 dollars a shot which I wisely decided really wasn't in my price range. The other broad selection of whiskeys, something I haven't seen since Ray's on the River, was encouraging, and I settled on something with a Buffalo on the bottle, just to be different. Points off because the barkeep didn't know there was a real difference between scotch whiskey and real whiskey, but you can't have everything.
For dinner we both got the Wagyu skirt steak (medium), mine with onion rings and BBQ corn, her's with a Swiss Chard. And because I haven't had any in ages, and although it felt like a betrayal, I ordered the crab cake appetizer. I know it sounds silly, but it does. Of course I still haven't had any Indian since, and I miss it. The steak was charred on the outside just enough, but pink and juicy in the middle. And the pop-over bread, their "upmarket" version of a yeast roll was tasty, until it got cold.
I like this spot, I'll admit now, because even before we got our food the place was interesting. The server turned out to be a man of contrasts. Although he possessed an accent that has to have grown up on dirt road in the backwoods of Alabama or South Carolina, when Shade asked for a wine paring for a Wagyu Skirt steaks, he not only produced a nice vintage, but broke into a very technical explanation of why chose it, and why he liked it's lack of tannin when combining with how the steaks were to be cooked. It turned out he's a sommelier in training, Second level, and we launched into a good five minutes of wine discussion. I mean, you expect your waiter to know the wines, but he really knew the wines. I mean, he also wore his braids in pigtails but then you never really know do you?
Over dinner, Shade explained to me the surprising source of this dinner inspiration after our first mis-step at Cloud iX middle school..er, lounge and bar. I'd gotten their first, expressed my displeasure via phone and wandered around the corner to No Mas Cantina, to wait for her. There I get a text from Scoop with dinner options. I'm a little shocked, because these two aren't even supposed to be speaking. But it turns out at some point in the last five days, they've made amends. In fact while we're eating, Scoop texts us and lets us know we could have had dinner at her house. I stop asking questions, because the whole thing is too surreal for me at that point.
For dessert, for which they thoughtfully inscribed Birthday wishes in chocolate on the rim, I was granted a chocolate peanut butter confection (think high end Reese Pieces) topped with a banana ice cream. Not too shabby. Nothing I would have chosen myself, but it was nice gesture.
Then when the check came, Shade grabbed it and paid it before I could even see how much it was. Well, because I'm curious, I peeked and saw how much it was, and that steak and other what not now qualifies as the second most expensive meal I've eaten. I include that sentiment because I don't want a gentle reader to wander in and look for the value meal. But, I want to go back, and will ...under the right circumstances. Nice place. Very nice place.
Now I wish I invented some kinda rating system.
It's small, relatively speaking, and it's got one of those paper menus that they print everyday because they're always changing something. And it's pricy, I mean the hamburger was the price of dinner for two at your average mid-market sit down dinner spot. It's what you'd expect from a W hotel, in other words - very nice. All cool muted browns and glossy wood finish tables. The service was especially good, with forks flying and napkins being re-folded when you got up and had to leave the table. If you've never been someplace like that once, you need to go, it's a different kind of service.
And, they have an absolutely excellent selection of whiskeys, including something for $65 dollars a shot which I wisely decided really wasn't in my price range. The other broad selection of whiskeys, something I haven't seen since Ray's on the River, was encouraging, and I settled on something with a Buffalo on the bottle, just to be different. Points off because the barkeep didn't know there was a real difference between scotch whiskey and real whiskey, but you can't have everything.
For dinner we both got the Wagyu skirt steak (medium), mine with onion rings and BBQ corn, her's with a Swiss Chard. And because I haven't had any in ages, and although it felt like a betrayal, I ordered the crab cake appetizer. I know it sounds silly, but it does. Of course I still haven't had any Indian since, and I miss it. The steak was charred on the outside just enough, but pink and juicy in the middle. And the pop-over bread, their "upmarket" version of a yeast roll was tasty, until it got cold.
I like this spot, I'll admit now, because even before we got our food the place was interesting. The server turned out to be a man of contrasts. Although he possessed an accent that has to have grown up on dirt road in the backwoods of Alabama or South Carolina, when Shade asked for a wine paring for a Wagyu Skirt steaks, he not only produced a nice vintage, but broke into a very technical explanation of why chose it, and why he liked it's lack of tannin when combining with how the steaks were to be cooked. It turned out he's a sommelier in training, Second level, and we launched into a good five minutes of wine discussion. I mean, you expect your waiter to know the wines, but he really knew the wines. I mean, he also wore his braids in pigtails but then you never really know do you?
Over dinner, Shade explained to me the surprising source of this dinner inspiration after our first mis-step at Cloud iX middle school..er, lounge and bar. I'd gotten their first, expressed my displeasure via phone and wandered around the corner to No Mas Cantina, to wait for her. There I get a text from Scoop with dinner options. I'm a little shocked, because these two aren't even supposed to be speaking. But it turns out at some point in the last five days, they've made amends. In fact while we're eating, Scoop texts us and lets us know we could have had dinner at her house. I stop asking questions, because the whole thing is too surreal for me at that point.
For dessert, for which they thoughtfully inscribed Birthday wishes in chocolate on the rim, I was granted a chocolate peanut butter confection (think high end Reese Pieces) topped with a banana ice cream. Not too shabby. Nothing I would have chosen myself, but it was nice gesture.
Then when the check came, Shade grabbed it and paid it before I could even see how much it was. Well, because I'm curious, I peeked and saw how much it was, and that steak and other what not now qualifies as the second most expensive meal I've eaten. I include that sentiment because I don't want a gentle reader to wander in and look for the value meal. But, I want to go back, and will ...under the right circumstances. Nice place. Very nice place.
Now I wish I invented some kinda rating system.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Things I want for my birthday...
It's not really a bucket list, because they're things I want, and don't really see as being something I'm going to have to go out of my way to get. They're "wish" in the sense they're coming, but I just wish they'd hurry up! Some are fanciful, some are serious, and some are just...well, read on and see.
10. A Benz.
I'm not a big car guy. Never caught the bug. And I like little cars. If I could fit in a Mini it might have been my next car, but then my new profession has certain "expectations". Nothing says success like an E-class or higher. So I guess I'll make the sacrifice. Oh, woe is me.
9. A lego set.
I love legos. I don't know why. I have a big blue tub of them now, but I want more. MORE! Not the playsets, just the blocks. Okay, a playset or two wouldn't be the end of the world. They are legos.
8. Golf clubs
I started playing that Tiger Woo! 12, with Augusta, and now I'm hooked. I was in the hunt at the Masters on Sunday, two holes later suddenly I'm six back just trying to hold it together. In real life I want to be looking for the generous bounce, making sand saves, steering clear of the second cut and dropping it on them rolling greens. All that. Yeah, I'm going to hate it all at first, but then I'll get better.
7. A man spa day.
I really want a good massage. No, no "happy ending" allusions here, from a "friend" preferably, but barring that a professional. In a real spa where they also do pedicures, possibly even give you an old fashioned shave. All while you sip on a whiskey and watch ESPN on the 40 inch flat screen. Wouldn't a place like that be sweet?
6. This. Okay, not really, but I seriously couldn't think of anywhere else to put this.

5. Sweet Potato Pie
I make a pretty good sweet potato pie. That said, I use a *sigh* store bought crust. The homemade crust I probably could make would be pretty good, but I'd need to by a rolling pin and ....hmmm. I just might do that.
4. A photo shoot
I own three digital cameras. Almost no pictures of me. I don't even take pictures. But what I want are the kind of pictures of me that look like the ones in magazines, ones with gravity, with substance. You know, posed, with light bouncing off my rugged features. I'm not gonna look this good forever (well, I will, but not this specific type of good looking), and people need to remember this. Plus, when I do finish one of them books, I'm gonna need a decent publicity shot. And and the rate I'm going by then I'll be old.

3. Censored.
I eventually intend to be somebody, and things on the internet have a tendency of hanging around. So just imagine something a guy would want that he might now want to mention in mixed company. Think real real hard. Now add gravy. And now you know why I'm not even gonna put that on here.
2. A bottle of good Whiskey.
I actually have half a bottle of good whiskey at my house now. But I need another. Just in case. Boy scout, be prepared. You never know. I am not a lush.
1. A Good Dinner. With Sporty.
What can I say? Those evenings I spent sharing a table with her resonate even now. It's magical when you can sit down with someone and it just feels right. We clicked. On so many levels. If you've ever been there you know why I still wax nostalgic about it. And hope to get there again.
10. A Benz.
I'm not a big car guy. Never caught the bug. And I like little cars. If I could fit in a Mini it might have been my next car, but then my new profession has certain "expectations". Nothing says success like an E-class or higher. So I guess I'll make the sacrifice. Oh, woe is me.
9. A lego set.I love legos. I don't know why. I have a big blue tub of them now, but I want more. MORE! Not the playsets, just the blocks. Okay, a playset or two wouldn't be the end of the world. They are legos.
8. Golf clubs
I started playing that Tiger Woo! 12, with Augusta, and now I'm hooked. I was in the hunt at the Masters on Sunday, two holes later suddenly I'm six back just trying to hold it together. In real life I want to be looking for the generous bounce, making sand saves, steering clear of the second cut and dropping it on them rolling greens. All that. Yeah, I'm going to hate it all at first, but then I'll get better.
7. A man spa day.
I really want a good massage. No, no "happy ending" allusions here, from a "friend" preferably, but barring that a professional. In a real spa where they also do pedicures, possibly even give you an old fashioned shave. All while you sip on a whiskey and watch ESPN on the 40 inch flat screen. Wouldn't a place like that be sweet?
6. This. Okay, not really, but I seriously couldn't think of anywhere else to put this.

5. Sweet Potato Pie
I make a pretty good sweet potato pie. That said, I use a *sigh* store bought crust. The homemade crust I probably could make would be pretty good, but I'd need to by a rolling pin and ....hmmm. I just might do that.
4. A photo shoot
I own three digital cameras. Almost no pictures of me. I don't even take pictures. But what I want are the kind of pictures of me that look like the ones in magazines, ones with gravity, with substance. You know, posed, with light bouncing off my rugged features. I'm not gonna look this good forever (well, I will, but not this specific type of good looking), and people need to remember this. Plus, when I do finish one of them books, I'm gonna need a decent publicity shot. And and the rate I'm going by then I'll be old.

3. Censored.
I eventually intend to be somebody, and things on the internet have a tendency of hanging around. So just imagine something a guy would want that he might now want to mention in mixed company. Think real real hard. Now add gravy. And now you know why I'm not even gonna put that on here.
2. A bottle of good Whiskey.
I actually have half a bottle of good whiskey at my house now. But I need another. Just in case. Boy scout, be prepared. You never know. I am not a lush.
1. A Good Dinner. With Sporty.
What can I say? Those evenings I spent sharing a table with her resonate even now. It's magical when you can sit down with someone and it just feels right. We clicked. On so many levels. If you've ever been there you know why I still wax nostalgic about it. And hope to get there again.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Going Back to My Grind
Ramblings Post #150
One day you get up, hit the alarm, snooze for a while, hit the alarm again, snooze, look over at the clock and try to figure how it got so late because you set the alarm for like 20 minutes before now, go to the bathroom look in the mirror and try to figure out who that person is staring back at you. He's heavier than you remember, and he's never looked that old or that tired. And that's the day you change. Well, not really that day, but like sometime that week...or later that month. And that for me was like last Tuesday...or Wednesday. Look it happened so, whatever.
On this coming Monday, I'm going back to where I was last year. I'm going back to my diet. Strong.
Since last late last fall, I've been in semi-regular mode for my diet. I still do parts of it because I like it - I eat a lot more fruit than I used to before this dietary change, cut back on the red meat to maybe twice a week, a lot less sugar, salads every day, etc. But I've indulged. Cake and pie from time to time. Fried chicken dinners. Sausage and Pepperoni pizza. A big bowl of cereal. Fries. And it's getting more frequent.
And remarkably, my size has not just ballooned back up. I'm a little bigger than I was at the bottom when I was in the 250 range, but I'm still on the downsize belt, the one I bought when pants started falling off. And I like them Oak Hill shirts I bought, so I gotta do something. I fully expected to wake up one morning having wiped away all the weight loss. I'd emerge from a fitful slumber and look down to find my frame grossly bloated from late night binges of Waffle House, Mayfield Ice Cream and Chinese food.
So it's not the end. I haven't regressed too far.
But, I now feel fat.
They tricked me. I looked in the mirror the other day and although I didn't look much different than I did the week before I noticed my cheeks were a little fuller, my stomach a touch softer. Not that I had gotten to a six pack the first time (way too much work in maintenance), but I was close. A stone's throw away. In the neighborhood. Not that damn far. Anyway...it looked, well, puffy. And i don't know why. Okay, I know why. Humor me. Them brownies from Boston Market? They the bizness.
But in any case, I'm going back in. The days were simpler, no figuring out what was for lunch, I knew I was headed to Subway. I knew pretty much what breakfast was. Dinner wasn't where I was going, but what I was making. I've been using the rationale that no AC means not turning on the stove, but that's just a cop out.
So, as the young boys say...back to the grind.
Hey, at least this time I'm starting a lot farther along. Six pack? Um...let's not get crazy.
Yes, Barkeep, I'm starting AFTER my birthday. Damn. Like what?
One day you get up, hit the alarm, snooze for a while, hit the alarm again, snooze, look over at the clock and try to figure how it got so late because you set the alarm for like 20 minutes before now, go to the bathroom look in the mirror and try to figure out who that person is staring back at you. He's heavier than you remember, and he's never looked that old or that tired. And that's the day you change. Well, not really that day, but like sometime that week...or later that month. And that for me was like last Tuesday...or Wednesday. Look it happened so, whatever.
On this coming Monday, I'm going back to where I was last year. I'm going back to my diet. Strong.
Since last late last fall, I've been in semi-regular mode for my diet. I still do parts of it because I like it - I eat a lot more fruit than I used to before this dietary change, cut back on the red meat to maybe twice a week, a lot less sugar, salads every day, etc. But I've indulged. Cake and pie from time to time. Fried chicken dinners. Sausage and Pepperoni pizza. A big bowl of cereal. Fries. And it's getting more frequent.
And remarkably, my size has not just ballooned back up. I'm a little bigger than I was at the bottom when I was in the 250 range, but I'm still on the downsize belt, the one I bought when pants started falling off. And I like them Oak Hill shirts I bought, so I gotta do something. I fully expected to wake up one morning having wiped away all the weight loss. I'd emerge from a fitful slumber and look down to find my frame grossly bloated from late night binges of Waffle House, Mayfield Ice Cream and Chinese food.
So it's not the end. I haven't regressed too far.
But, I now feel fat.
They tricked me. I looked in the mirror the other day and although I didn't look much different than I did the week before I noticed my cheeks were a little fuller, my stomach a touch softer. Not that I had gotten to a six pack the first time (way too much work in maintenance), but I was close. A stone's throw away. In the neighborhood. Not that damn far. Anyway...it looked, well, puffy. And i don't know why. Okay, I know why. Humor me. Them brownies from Boston Market? They the bizness.
But in any case, I'm going back in. The days were simpler, no figuring out what was for lunch, I knew I was headed to Subway. I knew pretty much what breakfast was. Dinner wasn't where I was going, but what I was making. I've been using the rationale that no AC means not turning on the stove, but that's just a cop out.
So, as the young boys say...back to the grind.
Hey, at least this time I'm starting a lot farther along. Six pack? Um...let's not get crazy.
Yes, Barkeep, I'm starting AFTER my birthday. Damn. Like what?
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
My Day
Ramblings Post #149
Sometimes, I don't think I'm normal. I have the correct number of fingers and toes, nothing like that. But from time to tome I look at myself and how I do things, and at others and how they do things, and there is a disconnect. Am I only noticing my own disconnect for my personal issues? Does everyone have these same incongruities of life for other areas? If only life came with instructions. With diagrams. And a do over option.

Since I've been an adult, I've never really celebrated my birthday. Now don't get me wrong, I've been some epic parties around the time of my birthday, but those parties were never really for me. You see, as it turns out my RP were born two days apart, and when I first moved to Atlanta he'd already had a regular birthday festival going with another running partner of ours born five days before me. So my birthday just got added to the mix. A number of years passed with a great number of regular party goers never really realizing it was my birthday as well. No big, I had a good time too.
But nothing that was ever uniquely for me. No cake. No songs. Not a lot of presents. Etc.
This started really from being a summer child, living in a subdivision with no other kids. In effect my birthdays as a youth really drilled down to a gift and maybe a dinner with the family. College birthdays were usually a call from the folks (I went to summer school pretty much every year) and a drink or two with a buddy. Atlanta birthdays have been a whirlwind of other folks parties, although by tending bar I usually ended up with an unintentional present, I guess, a fairly large wad of cash. The last few birthdays have been marred by heartbreak and break-ins at the house.
Looking back at that, you can understand why I generally don't make that big a fuss.
This year's excuse is Summer School again, with finals for the shortened semester right around the corner. I call it an excuse, because Shade is going to be in town and is asking what the plan is when I have no plan. My plan was head home from work, eat dinner, have a drink, go to sleep. Maybe a little Playstation in there. The idea of riding around the city with the top down, hitting the clubs just doesn't appeal right now (we're expecting this feeling is a temporary condition).
What do I really want?
Well, first this assumes my AC is working by the end of the week, and that I have furniture, which I don't. But what I really want is a quiet dinner at home with some friends. The kind that ends with folks lazing about, talking about nothing and everything. Where secrets pop out, and truths are told. It's a vibe I used to get after a party was over, when all the stragglers were gone and all that was left was your people and the stories of the good time they just had. We don't live like that anymore. We just don't.
As a second choice, some consensual nudity with a female...er... "friend". Er, I know don't really celebrate my birthday, but I am still a GUY. Testosterone is testosterone. I'm touch with my feelings, and can look into my soul, but let's get realistic. Note: This wish also assumes the AC is working. I'm a guy, but practical.
So, what happens on my birthday? We shall see.
Probably not much.
Sometimes, I don't think I'm normal. I have the correct number of fingers and toes, nothing like that. But from time to tome I look at myself and how I do things, and at others and how they do things, and there is a disconnect. Am I only noticing my own disconnect for my personal issues? Does everyone have these same incongruities of life for other areas? If only life came with instructions. With diagrams. And a do over option.

Since I've been an adult, I've never really celebrated my birthday. Now don't get me wrong, I've been some epic parties around the time of my birthday, but those parties were never really for me. You see, as it turns out my RP were born two days apart, and when I first moved to Atlanta he'd already had a regular birthday festival going with another running partner of ours born five days before me. So my birthday just got added to the mix. A number of years passed with a great number of regular party goers never really realizing it was my birthday as well. No big, I had a good time too.
But nothing that was ever uniquely for me. No cake. No songs. Not a lot of presents. Etc.
This started really from being a summer child, living in a subdivision with no other kids. In effect my birthdays as a youth really drilled down to a gift and maybe a dinner with the family. College birthdays were usually a call from the folks (I went to summer school pretty much every year) and a drink or two with a buddy. Atlanta birthdays have been a whirlwind of other folks parties, although by tending bar I usually ended up with an unintentional present, I guess, a fairly large wad of cash. The last few birthdays have been marred by heartbreak and break-ins at the house.
Looking back at that, you can understand why I generally don't make that big a fuss.
This year's excuse is Summer School again, with finals for the shortened semester right around the corner. I call it an excuse, because Shade is going to be in town and is asking what the plan is when I have no plan. My plan was head home from work, eat dinner, have a drink, go to sleep. Maybe a little Playstation in there. The idea of riding around the city with the top down, hitting the clubs just doesn't appeal right now (we're expecting this feeling is a temporary condition).
What do I really want?
Well, first this assumes my AC is working by the end of the week, and that I have furniture, which I don't. But what I really want is a quiet dinner at home with some friends. The kind that ends with folks lazing about, talking about nothing and everything. Where secrets pop out, and truths are told. It's a vibe I used to get after a party was over, when all the stragglers were gone and all that was left was your people and the stories of the good time they just had. We don't live like that anymore. We just don't.
As a second choice, some consensual nudity with a female...er... "friend". Er, I know don't really celebrate my birthday, but I am still a GUY. Testosterone is testosterone. I'm touch with my feelings, and can look into my soul, but let's get realistic. Note: This wish also assumes the AC is working. I'm a guy, but practical.
So, what happens on my birthday? We shall see.
Probably not much.
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