Archive for October, 2011

Right – taking a little break from the writing and stuff. Also, I have an issue. Ever had one of those friends you kinda liked but then they turned into a giant douche? Not necessarily to you, but just in general? Do you address the douche or walk away from the douche? I tend toward the latter eventually but it always feels like an exercise in hopelessness, and there’s something tremendously sad about that. And avoiding the sad = good. Sigh. What to do, what to do…

Anyway, I have little. But here’s a breakdown of the candy hierarchy. You already know it… I managed a few Halloween shots from this weekend — I just don’t have the will to blow it out like I used to but I’ll always try to make an appearance. The last one isn’t mine but it makes me laugh so I include it. Oh yeah, UGA beat Florida for the first time since 2007. That was a nice way to spend Saturday evening…

That's why they call him Dr. B.

Wet Hot American Summer or Angry Birds?

Checking on the baby Gator fan. Dr. B prescribed more beer while I lovingly played Grandma -- cause you know they'll be living with me. The Angry Bird randomly approves. But he's angry about it.

For Halloween, here’s a video that always makes me think of the holiday. It’s strange: the song itself is quite uplifting in spirit. That wouldn’t appear to be the case from the visual. Which is actually what I like about this band. Also, the song lends itself to living room thrashing. And this is a digable quality.

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The 5 elements

Hey yah. So, here’s the question for today: is it actually possible to forgive without forgetting? The concept of forgiveness is such a good one — both for practical and moral reasons — but forgetting all Eternal Sunshine-y seems a silly move. And if one is pragmatic enough to remember in order to learn, then how does one forgive something constantly popping up in the head like a god d*mn warning sign? I suspect — but I don’t know — that past infractions must be supplanted with new, positive experience. And so, I’ll just look forward to that. There endeth the existential meditation. Don’t blame me if you chose to read it.

Alright, the grandparents place in Southern Maryland. Short story: the place burned down the first year I moved here. My parents had considered buying the heirs to the property out so we could keep the place in the family but, since I’m the only one from the Georgia clan here and the commute into the city would have been hell, and since the economic times are pretty trying for everyone, they decided just to sell outright. Now, did this cause me to sit on the dock and cry for 45 minutes last week when I went to help my brothers and dad move some things out of the winery so the new owners could take possession? Yes. In fact, it did. Did I resolve through my tears to one day be wealthy enough to buy the place back, out of spite if nothing else? Indeed. Do I feel like a little piece of my soul is still now — and always will be — sitting on that dock? You know the answer. But I’m glad I got to go through some of my grandparents’ things with my Dad and brothers. We told some good stories of past times. And my dad says that the people who bought the land aren’t total strangers to the family so I can likely go back out and visit any time. Supposedly they’re nice people. I just feel a little like something is over — something that was basic, elemental and very, very good. And so, I’m going to mourn it.





And Grandpa's wine

Anyway, we play Florida in our flag game tomorrow — and UGA plays Florida at the largest cocktail party in the world. Here are a few images of the team. They’re good eggs.

Bailey, your spiral is perfect. And that's not a euphemism.

Johnmire tries to act like he's a giant jackass but here he is, tenderly taping Crosley's hurt fingers. You're fooling no one John. Also, Little Debbie (not affiliated with snack cakes in any way) can rush a QB like madness on feet. I think she teleports.

Seriously, Walters makes everything look easy.

Here’s what I’m listening to for your enjoyment:

And more choreography that my body almost aches to dance.

Finally, Happy Halloween Weeeotches!

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Hey babies. Lest you think I have a heart of stone because I secretly believe that the Occupy Wall Street stuff is primarily — although not totally. I’m sure there are those in attendance with honest concerns — a self-serving excuse to camp out in major cities, give the finger to “the establishment” without accomplishing much of anything else, and have a story to tell in an attempt to get laid for years to come, let me give you the following. I suspect I’ll be able to write something compelling or funny or touching or stupid soon, once I have a few things behind me, both literally and emotionally. But for now, I give you this awesomeness (crazy, right?) and the following. Just in time for Halloween, this is a book my parents had when I was just a little kid and, while I’m certain they would have been horrified that their 8-year-old daughter was reading it, the cover just grabbed me because I thought she kind of looked like me and I had to find out how she could have been BORN TWICE! And it freaked me out, man. The image below is the original cover. I was a weird kid.

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It’s not fair

One op-ed down, one to go. I’ll have more to say tomorrow on going out to visit the grandparent’s former property for the last time (until I buy it back) and sitting on the dock and actually smelling my childhood in the water and the rocks but I have to let that sit for a bit. Till then, here’s Remy Munasifi’s brilliant take on Occupy DC. We’re stoked he’ll be helping us with another video in the near future. I love the combination of funny and brilliant. And he can actually sing.

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I gotta follow it

Yeah, I got nothing man. Except that I had a dream about this song last night and woke up singing it. So, here’s the cheesiest video you’ll watch all year. But really, if you don’t like this song then you’re just mean and blackhearted and that’s just the way it is. Happy Friday.

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‘Sup Dawgs? I’m just hammering away at an op-ed over here for the big boss. It’s on corporate democracy. I know, I know…settle down. It’s one of my favorite things to write about, too. Moving on…

That's Thor in the braids when we were scrappy young'uns in college at UGA. The No Smoking sign is ironic.

My good friend Thor visited me yesterday. I literally haven’t seen her since she left school to follow a boy around the country working with the Renaissance Festival. That was over 15 years ago. “I ran away with the circus,” she says. And she totally did. And it’s totally her. She tells me we got together a few years after college but I don’t remember. Anyway, we had lunch at a cool bookstore in DuPont and drank bloody mary’s and flirted with the 27-year-old waiter and talked about the men we’ve dated and the old times and friends and the way things are now. She’s left me a ticket to get into the Md. Ren Fair Sunday if I want. I think I should in fact. Because those kind of friends — the kind you just pick back up with and never miss a beat — are so rare it makes me want to cry sometimes. Love you Thor. Even if you gave me your cold.

In other news, my Pops is headed up for the weekend tomorrow and, since I know there’s no way he’ll come into the city to visit me — he hates all the noise and confusion I think — I’ll likely be trying to get out to Southern Maryland at some point to hang out with him. Looking forward to seeing you Pops. Even if you do just need my help to move furniture.

So, I had this thought last night as I was laying in bed with a sniffly Alexander — he has a cold and is being a whiny boy — that maybe I have this whole thing wrong. That maybe it actually is about quality of experience and not quantity. Thor made me think of it actually. We were constantly moving, running around, going out, partying, hanging out and what have you in college. And in the end it was a blur that I can’t remember and that left me pretty hollow for a few years into my 20s. Those post-college years were not easy ones for me. So, I think I’m going to try to remember that when I feel like I haven’t made enough friends here or that I’m not doing enough socially. Because I actually know the flipside of that coin. And it’s a lot less meaningful than I seem to want to convince myself it is.

Now for diversionary things and stuff:

You droning, tickle-brained, canker-blossom. Marvelous. These will be used.

This one’s for you Thor. I feel EXACTLY like this about the Occupy Wall Street crowd. I know you like the passion of the meetup but I just want some peace and damn quiet. I might be getting old. (h/t Fleury):

Right now, Generation X just wants a beer and to be left alone. It just wants to sit here quietly and think for a minute. Can you just do that, okay? It knows that you are so very special and so very numerous, but can you just leave it alone? Just for a little bit? Just long enough to sneak one last fucking cigarette? No?

Number three is enough for me.

Johnmire sent this to me, both as a way to explain our little vacation from a meeting of the minds in our flag football games last week (ahem) and as a way to rip on The Coach for always cursing. Although it might be me he’s ripping on. Either way, love it Johnmire. And I know how much you care you big ass.

Finally, one of the boys at work was chatting about the former Secretary with me recently because I’m a huge fan of hers. And no, I don’t think that because she chose not to marry that she’s weird or likes women or whatever. Sometimes dudes just get in your way, man. It’s as simple as that. Anyway, thought this was fairly fascinating.

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So, as I was driving through the city yesterday following our flag football game — we squeaked a win and Johnmire is getting this from me for Christmas. He’s aware. — I was cruising down K street NW heading West when what should I see to my left but the occupy DC tent city. It was precious. I was immediately certain that Gandhi — whose face was represented on a giant sign — was probably observing the whole thing from paradise like, “Dang. That’s a really nice $400 tent from REI. Coulda used that when I was fasting in protest…”

Anyway, my friend Crosley invited me Friday to a new place in the Shaw neighborhood owned by some friends of hers. Excellent potato soup and I had several Maker’s and Gingers. Also, they played Neutral Milk Hotel’s Aeroplane Over the Sea, an album ostensibly about Anne Frank, and that’s just synchronous right now for me. I won’t go into it. Suffice to say that it’s a subject that keeps things in perspective. Anyway, here’s my fave of the songs…

Also, Cros and I decided that someone who says, “I’m selfish,” or “I’m in a bitchy mood today,” does not get to then act selfish or bitchy because they’ve somehow warned you how they suck. It’s almost worse to know it and do it anyway. I mean, is it reasonable to be all, “I’m feeling like I just want to go knock over a liquor store…” No. No it is not.

So knock it off.

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