Thursday, August 30, 2012


This is honestly what I'm listening to, right now:
The last 45 seconds sound like you're flying.  I swear.
Also, I toured around Ecuador with a guy named Ben Stocking who can play this song.  He's incredibly talented.
Today I made a realization.  It was like, a tender mercy from God.  It was momentous, but at the same time, silly and kind of simple.  You know what I am saying?  Well, anyway.  I guard my alone time rather jealously.  I don't like to spend a ton of time with people.  The older I get, the more hermit-like I become.  It's easier and quite honestly, I like to dictate what I eat, what I do and what I think (not talk about.  because talking about something alone would be crazy.).
Today, I had to take my motorcycle in to get a little repair done.  It was nothing big or fancy; just a fork seal.  Something I could have done on my own, had I the inclination and the tools.  I set up an appointment for 9:30 A.M. this morning.  Last night however, as I was thinking about the day, I realized that I needed someone to drive my car to the garage so I had a way back.  Getting my motorcycle to the garage wasn't something I could do by myself.
There's a parallel I draw right there.  Each day, I grow more and more comfortable being alone, but that's not the best way to be.  As easy as being alone is, I would be better off with someone along with me.  I would be better off with someone to drive my car while I drive the motorcycle; with someone to share sodas; with someone to blah blah blah, something sappy.  It's easier to be alone and regulate my whole day.  I decide what is spent and what I do, but that's not the best way.

I wax reflective.

I blame the classical music I'm listening to.

Here's something: I hate urinals without walls (originally, it was "here's something I hate: urinals without walls." but turns out, I like the first format better.).  It's really not that big of a deal, you stare straight in front of you and don't talk.  I just want to know how much those walls cost, though.  How much are you losing to make all of your guests a little uncomfortable while they do their business?  And you know what else?! why do some people even have the desire to talk while peeing??  I can't wrap my head around that one.  Yes, we are both standing at the same wall, peeing.  No, that doesn't mean we are friends, nor does that mean we are associates.  In fact, it doesn't mean anything.  So shut up and let me pee.

I love you for reading.
I really do mean that.
Always do what you're afraid to do.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

on really busy nights

this song is one of my most favorite songs of all time.  It's just really perfect.

Okay.  Look you guys, I'm going to tell you something that you're going to disagree with.  You're going to think something along the lines of "No, that might happen to others, but it won't happen to me.  I know the difference!"  But I'm telling you, straight up: you don't know the difference.
When people order ranch at applebee's, I tell them okay and run into the kitchen.  It's usually not a big deal and most of the time it takes me all of two or three minutes.  However, some nights, I'll go into the kitchen and find that the ranch is out! Getting more ranch is a quick fix, as well.  I just head into the cooler in the way back of the restaurant and grab a giant bag of it.  Honestly, worst case scenario, getting ranch to you when it's totally out in the kitchen takes about four minutes.
The thing is, sometimes, on really busy nights, four minutes is too long.  Sometimes, someone asks for ranch and instead of immediately getting ranch, I have to go greet a table (two minutes).  After greeting a table, I go and make a few drinks (three minutes).  At which point, I discover that there isn't any ranch so I have to go all the way back, open up a new bag and bring it to the front (four minutes).  Before you know it, a simple task of getting someone some ranch has become a 10 minute affair.  And that's just a simple scenario.  Sometimes, people have been waiting 15 minutes for their ranch and they're pissed about it.
So a quick fix to being out of ranch?  It's quite easy.  You bring them bleu cheese.  Yes, if you ask for ranch, but it's a hassle to get some, I will bring you bleu cheese.  Go ahead, cry foul.  "YOU BRING THEM BLEU CHEESE INSTEAD OF RANCH?!" you shout, with your fist in the air.  To which I calmly reply, "I do. And you can't tell the difference."
You see, I've been in the restaurant business for quite some time.  More than 7 years ( I know I'm pathetic, I knew when she said it...).  It was an accident the first time it happened.  Someone asked for ranch, I accidentally took them bleu cheese.  They didn't even notice.  I wouldn't have known if I hadn't poured some for myself not minutes later.  So, my gears start turning and one night, when we're out of ranch up front, I try my little trick again. 
Wouldn't you know it? success.  SUCCESS!
I've only been caught twice switching bleu cheese for ranch or vice versa.  In seven years I've only been caught twice. You can't tell the difference, my friends.
Don't be mad.  I'm not mad.
I think that that is all that I've got tonight.
I love you for reading all of my crazy thoughts. 
Peace be on you and your home.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

An honest view of my poor heart.

No music.  I'm kind of insecure about this post.  So... whatever.

So many stupid words
like 'love' and 'appreciation'
an example of stupid terms
Like death do us part
Such a light and kind soul
With such deep lacerations
And that wonderful feeling
Of when our hands touch
melodramatic words
Like explosive or dire
inhibited emotions
Like terror, hate or blame
And I'll repeat after you
And I'll feign indifference
But dammit won't you leave me alone?
Be sure to text me when you're safe;
Won't you text me once you're home?

I love you for reading.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

almost certain

 I think humans travel in packs.  Yep.  I'm almost certain, in fact.  Seriously, though.  It might be in our nature, or it might be because of traffic signals.  I would need some sort of controlled environment in order to reach a conclusion.  But I really believe that the great majority of humans prefer to travel in packs.
I have been driving for a while now.  I got my license when I was 18 (don't make fun) and I have been driving, just like all of you, ever since.  I tend to drive a little faster than I'm supposed to.  Usually, about 10 miles over the speed limit.  Not that big of a deal.  But while driving, I have noticed patterns.  As I get onto the freeway, I sometimes find myself in the midst of a big clump of drivers.  These clumps are sometimes stretched out and sometimes quite dense.  Inevitably, I make my way out of the group and find freedom: a stretch of road without many cars.  That freedom seems to always be short-lived, however as it is almost certain that I will eventually enter a new clump of drivers. 
What's more, not only are there packs of cars, but there are leaders, as well.  People that end up in front, controlling the speed of the followers.  I call them leaders because it seems like they have the biggest problem with me passing them.  They do everything they can (without breaking any laws) to stop me from passing them and leaving them behind.  They will box me in, speed up, slow down, change lanes, etc., etc., etc., all for the sake of preserving the pack.  And almost always, as the leader speeds up, so do the followers.
You, my fair reader, can participate and discover for yourself whether or not this claim is true.  If you are of valiant heart and accept the challenge, here is what I want you to do:
I want you to get onto the freeway and speed.  Go a long distance; maybe an hours worth of driving at 10 miles over the speed limit.  Let me know what you find!

I kind of want to join a biker gang.  Maybe not join.  Maybe form is a better word.  You see, joining a biker gang means I have to assimilate to their already-established code of conduct (how they dress, things they do, things that they don't do, etc.).  And I kind of don't want to do that.  I think in my gang, instead of leather, we're going to wear short shorts.  Like the type that I'm wearing in my facebook profile.  And instead of joining some association like BACA (bikers against child abuse), we're going to form our own like BTLCB (Bikers that love comic books) or BAP (bikers against pickles).  I'm like, way stoked about this.  We can go to different comic book stores on our motorcycles and just spend the day reading.  Or, persecuting those that are eating pickles. 

I love you for reading.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

hey, you suck. Here's why.

I am bugged about something.  Honestly, I'm a little irritated.  And it's been something that has consistently bothered me throughout my entire serving career.  It only happens every now and then, so it's not like it's a huge deal; it's not like I die.  But, it's enough to hang onto and recognize that it happens.
Look at this picture:
 If you look hard enough, it says "you suck!" at the top.  With an exclamation mark, none the less!  it wasn't enough to just say it, she had to exclaim it. 

At work, a pair of women came in.  One ordered an Arnold Palmer and the other, water.  I kept their drinks full and got their food orders right.  When they wanted dessert, I got it to them.  They paid separately, but they both left me a dollar and one of them wrote that little ditty right there at the top of the ticket.  "You suck!" she exclaimed.  How do I argue that?  How am I supposed to defend myself from that attack?  I can't.  And that's where my contention comes from. 
How am I supposed to get any better as a waiter or bartender, if I can't get any feedback?  Ask to speak to a manager or let me know where I have failed you.  You can't just write "you suck!" and call it good, can you?  What happened?  Where did our journey go wrong?  I think writing belittling insults like "you suck!" and leaving is one of the worst ways to deal with a bad visit to a restaurant.  It's also rather cowardly.  Don't you think?  It's way more difficult to look me in the eyes and say "hey, you suck, here's why" than writing "you suck!" and leaving a dollar.

I'm just bugged about the whole thing.

Here's an interesting thing that I wonder if some will take offense to (and if not offense, perhaps a gate.  Eh? see what I did?  Say it aloud.).  Sometimes, I use prayer to absolve myself of responsibility.  If ever there is something that I want to do or want to say or want to ______, I will say a prayer.  In that prayer, I will say something to the effect of "God, if this is something that I shouldn't do, please make that apparent," or "God, if this is something I shouldn't say, please stop me."  Then, I go and do or say or _____ that thing.  And I have never been stopped.  Nope, not once.  Ha ha ha.  Do you see though, how I am absolved from being the responsible party?  "If I shouldn't have done such and such thing, God would have stopped me, but he didn't and holy smoke, do I always talk in run on sentences?"  I just realized it a few days ago.  It makes me more bold of a person.  It's like manifest destiny, you know?  Just a smaller, more personal, to-scale model.  There's more I want to say about this, but I think that's all I've got on the matter for now.

I love you for reading.
Just tie the rope.
I could fly, if I wanted to.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Here it is, here is the new alphabet:

As I'm writing this, I'm watching the movie I Am legend.  It's at the part where the dog turns into a zombie dog and will smith has to kill him.  It's really sad.
I've been subjecting myself to a lot of end-of-the-world type media.  My little brother has been playing fallout 3 (which deals with a nuclear bomb being dropped on the united states and the pandemonium that would ensue) and I have been following that closely.  I have also been watching the Walking Dead and now I'm watching I Am Legend.  The thing is, these things fill me with such despair.  They leave me feeling hopeless.  So maybe I'll try to ease up on them.  Because I feel like the things I'm watching are somehow damaging my soul.
I was thinking about the alphabet today.  The alphabet begins with a and ends with z.  But who set that standard?  Here's the real question: who came up with the song?? You know, the song we sang since we were young?  Who is the writer of that catchy tune?  I'm going to arbitrarily rearrange the alphabet and rewrite the jingle.  The jingle has got to be more catchy than the one that we are currently using, though.  It has to be in order for the new one to catch on. 

Here it is, here's the new alphabet:  jufirandykqezbmxcpsgwhvlot
Isn't it great?!

Dr. pepper lately has been making me sick.  I might give up soda for a little bit.   Maybe I'll set a goal not to drink soda until the super bowl.
I've always wanted to fly.  No, not like, hollow out my bones and sprout wings.  I mean, that would be cool, but that is not what I meant.  I want to be a pilot.  I love to travel and I love to fly.  It's my choice career.  I had heard from a few sources that a pilot that is just starting out has to be gone a lot and therefore, I gave it up.  I chose against learning to fly.  I wanted to have time for a family instead.  You can all see how well that is working out.  But I digress.
A few nights ago, I was out at my thinking spot, watching the stars (no. not the stupid meteor shower. It was a different night) and as a plane flew by, I felt a little pang of regret.  Maybe it wasn't regret, maybe it was something like wonder.  I wonder where they are going and what they are doing.  I wonder if they left someone for a long amount of time and they finally get to return to them.  I wonder if they are up there, wondering if I'm down here, wondering about them.  Being a pilot seems so romantic to me.  Traveling is so romantic to me.

I want to go everywhere and I want to do everything.
I've got to quit watching movies where the world ends.

Thanks for reading.
I love you for it.
Don't be safe.  Be sorry.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

It was like I had traveled back in time

I finally have internet in my apartment, again.  you see, the first time I had internet, I was mooching off the kids who were here before me.  They left a modem behind and so I tested it out.  Sure enough, we still had service.  Huzzah for free internet!  But it was short-lived.  The guys showed up like, within a few days and took their modem from me.  Thus, I was left alone.  Sad.  And without my precious interwebs.

The other day, I was at Best Buy and Come On Eileen came on.  Not the original version, but the new version by Save Ferris.  It was like I had traveled back in time to the mid 90's.

Although there is something to be said about the convenience of Walmart, I don't think anybody likes it.  Nobody really likes walmart, right?  Stinky, poorly dressed people, usually speaking a different language while letting their unruly children run up and down the aisles typically makes for a bad experience for everyone.  Right?  (exhibited here:
Now, I don't really get that irritated with the people of walmart as much as everyone else seems to.  I get more irritated with the parking situation.  Some of those rows of parking stalls are just one way, you know?  As you're driving along, you can park on the right or the left because the direction you're going is one way.  But it seems like not everybody gets that.  It seems like every other time I'm trying to park, I have some fool coming up a down only lane.  And then what?  Then, I have to pull all the way to the right side, nearly hitting the other parked vehicles, so this idiot can squeeze his/her suburban past. 
Lately, I haven't been doing that, though.  Lately, I stay right in the middle of the lane.  I come to a complete stop and wait for the giant suburban to go in reverse.  Yes, I am the embittered about people driving down the one way parking aisles.
Another thing that has me kind of irritated about parking at Walmart, is all of the jockeying that goes on for a close parking space.  You know those people that will turn on their blinker and wait for a parking spot?  That's fine.  I don't have a problem with that.  But what about when they're not even in their car yet?  Just park a little further away and walk for heavens sake! It's a grocery store, anyway! You're going to have to walk!
A lot of times, I'll pass the fool that's waiting, park 20 yards away and walk past them.  All the while, they're still waiting for their coveted, close parking stall. 

I love you for reading.
Chin up and all that.
Keep muddling through.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

maybe there is more to being human

It's been a minute since last I posted.  Man, what a hectic weeks it's been.  I'm not kidding.  Hectic.

Business before pleasure:

Let me just take a break from building my garbage bookcase and say some things.

The Olympics started.  Holy crap, is anybody else irritated by it, or am I alone on this one?  I don't care if they're wearing a U.S. jersey, an English jersey or a jersey representing friggin Andrew James Keele (alright.  I went too far.  It would be rad if someone was in the olympics competing in my behalf.), shot put is still boring.  So is speed walking, for that matter.  And archery.  And the 400 m run.  Look, it's all boring.  Just because they're sporting a jersey with 'U.S.A' across the front doesn't make it anymore interesting.  Right?  Doesn't anybody else agree with me??  I feel like I'm all alone in my total distaste and indifference toward these games. 

I moved out of my sister's basement this week.  I have lived there for the last 2 1/2 years and it's weird to be out.  As I sit in my new room, watching the bobblehead of myself's head bobbling to the rhythm of my fingers punching the keyboard (for reals.  I have a bobble head of myself.  I'll prove it.), I wonder at my new adventure.  I went out and bought a bunch of stuff for our bathroom; I set up my little project studio, again.  I'm excited to see what this year will bring me.

I have a nephew that is only two years old.  I used to watch him every single wednesday as a favor for my sister.  We would sword fight, watch movies, run around the house and wrestle.  I love him like I would love my own son (hypothetical son) and I will tell you that I miss him like crazy.  It has only been one week and I already long to see him.  Kind of weird how our proverbial hearts are affected, huh?  In an earlier post, I boiled love all down to chemicals and science, but things like my ache to see baby jagger give me pause.  Maybe there is more to being human than just hormones and genes. 

see? proof that I am a bobblehead.  Also, proof that bobblehead andrew james keele hangs out with bobble head Iron Man.

Okay, back to building my book case again.  There is still a lot of stuff that I've got to get done. 
I love you for reading.  Honestly.
be brave, little piglet.