Where I Reveal Myself To You In Terrible Ways

Most of these blog entries will be a record of self-loathing or depression.

Wednesday, September 02, 2015

Today's Story Idea (Fictional)

There was a story about Emmet Till on the radio the other day and I thought: "They never solved that?? No clues or leaks ever??" it seems crazy that someone didn't tell someone about it eventually, and the story got out. (Unless, once again, someone got prosecuted and I don't research my topics.)(But I could have sworn they said the case was never solved.)

Tonight I thought: what if you were the son and your father told you he did it? Or that he and his friends did it?

In real time, that would make you 60 and your father 80, probably (or maybe older; again: no research). But in fiction, you could change it to when the father was 40 and the son was 20; or the father was 50 or 60 and the son was 25. 

Whatever age it is, it could make for an incredible story. Think of it this way: You love someone, deeply, all your life, and then they tell you they did this horrible thing - and part of it would be that he's not apologetic. I don't know exactly how to build that in, but it makes it harder to reckon with.

Okay, trying to flesh it out, it gets difficult. How is the father a three-dimensional character without being blatantly racist all the time (or obviously racist)? And would it be possible for someone to be "less" racist when they were older and still have done this thing? If he's the kind of person who no longer spouts the racist stuff, how is he not apologetic for it? 

If the son is horrified by it, how does that work? If he's not racist and his dad is, how does he have a good relationship with him? Because the book could start with the revelation and then we would slowly learn the father is racist after learning a few facts about what a caring man he was from the son. But then how is the son not racist and okay with his dad, or have fond memories of being raised by him? O would his father's racism not have affected him, one way or another?

It's complex, and I'm tired, and thats why I don't read books. But I think it's a fascinating premise and it could be played out in many different ways (and maybe outside of race, it would be easier; I made it about Emmet Till because the mystery is intriguing). The Nazi war criminal would be the simplest (and perhaps the weakest, being so obvious; but that would depend on who wrote it).


I had a great night tonight, even if I didn't do the main things I meant to do. Like fold the pile of laundry on my bed. (I just moved it to the side.) 

Oh well.

I laughed a lot and enjoyed time with other human beings. And now I'm happy to go to sleep.
It's nice.

Story Idea

I was just reading an email I got from Greenpeace about a film they're promoting, the tagline of which is "The revolution will not be organized." That made me think of Occupy Wall Street, and that made me think: Where are they now?

Where are all those people now? Do they have jobs? Do they have good jobs? Do they support charitable causes? Do they support radical causes? Do they belong to charitable groups, do volunteer work when they can?

Do they stay in touch? Did any of them become lifelong friends? Did any of them end up getting married?

How have their lives progressed? If you think of them as cancer (a terrible metaphor, admittedly), now that the cells have broken up and spread throughout society, what are they sending out now? What is the majority focus now, six years later?

(And again, this story may have been written, I just don't read the news anymore.)

As Cliche As It Is To Say Now...

...winter is coming. 

In the shower this morning I thought about how in the winter months I'll be dying of the cold, freezing when getting out of the shower. A far cry from the sweaty days of now, but only a few months off.

Man, why couldn't we all live in California?

For the Teens Out There

I hate to be the one to tell you, but the acne never stops. Not completely. Yesterday in the office one woman had a pimple and another woman had a cluster on one of her cheeks. I just got out of the shower to find a "blemish" on my forehead.

Of course, that could "just" be skin cancer.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Tuesday, September 01, 2015

The Thing He Gets Wrong

The "funny" thing about the imposter is that he's got it backwards. He makes it out like I don't like my job - but I do! I like the potential, I Iike the people, I like research, I like ideas - if there's anything I generally don't like at my job, it's me. The job is fine; the job is good, actually. Me, I have a problem with.

Incredible Promotional Idea, No. 43

On the last day of every sixth month, Apple should have a secret sale where certain songs are on sale for one cent, helping out all those people (like me) that have a balance of pennies on their gift card accounts.

And maybe they could recruit big stars to get involved every so often.

But, abuse.

Well, could their engineers write an algorithm that noted whether the account had less than fifteen cents in it? I think that would be a fair amount. And one time only: you can't reload the account all day and go back in again and again.

That said, someone would find a way to game the system.

And, it might already be happening, and I just haven't investigated, which is typical.

Monday, August 31, 2015

Not Something I Say Often

As crappy as it is (and that is a direct result of my neglect), I'm happy to be home.

More Haiku

Can you fight a ghost? 
What weapon kills a mirage? 
There is naught but words.

He says he is me.
But only I am me, right?
So then who is he?

To My Friend the Letter

I'm tempted to text you, even though I was told that phone was deactivated or given to a child. I want to know that you know it's not me.


[intensely personal anecdote that could be extremely humiliating]
[mundane details about pathetic lifestyle]

Evening Haikus


The pretender wants
that I should lose my job but
for once I say "no."


If you think I am
trash but you imitate me 
then who would you be?


Mocking the powerless
seems like a waste of time
Why play beneath you?

Sweaty But Satisfied/Foiled By Chocolate

I just got home.

As I was walking home, I had a pleasant conversation with a young woman (who seemed to be of Russian descent) as we walked through the wooded part between the Metro station and our neighborhoods.

I did a lot of the talking myself, maybe because I was nervous about talking to a young, pretty girl. That was my perception of her, anyway. It was dark. She did have a lovely stereotypical voice. "Mellifluous" was the word I thought of. Then I was trying to pronounce it in my head and wondered which way it goes. Where is the emphasis?

When I got home, I was sweating buckets. For whatever reason (unless the humidity increased drastically between when I got on the train and when I got off), the last part of the trip (after she had gone her own way) was incredibly hot. That's when I started dripping sweat. (I was walking up a slight incline.)

I got home and was happy. I had had a little encounter with a stranger and it had been nice. Nice encounters with strangers are a real boon to the soul. I wish I had asked her a little about herself, but I was just to busy spitting up words.

Then I started to unpack my pockets and found...yuck. I had put a small chocolate bar in my breast pocket when I was in town, and forgotten about it. And then just had an arduous walk that made me sweat buckets. It was a mini chocolate with a chocolate cream filling. It was a mess. On the inside of my shirt it looks like a shitstain.

The funny/sad thing is, I have a small packet on my bureau that is papers from the last time something spilled in my pocket, which was a pen. The curious thing about that incident (which was in the daytime, and did not feature a dog) was that I had just been thinking about how long I had owned that shirt for. It was one of the first "nice" shirts I bought for myself in the late 90's when I had my old "professional" job. (Man, I should have gotten some training back then. The places I could be now!)(Not that I'm not neglecting training opportunities in the moment.)

So I had been reminiscing about the shirt and how it was one of my oldest and then - bam! - the universe decides it's time to retire that shirt.

This shirt is not like that. This shirt has gotten me outright compliments from LH, and Best Friend likes it as well. Losing this shirt would be a bummer.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Is It A Dilemma or Avoidance?

I could donate $10 a month to 5 different charities (public radio, the Red Cross, etc), or I could send my sister-in-law $50 a month to help pay for various things for my nieces and nephews. 

Or should I just stop feeding myself junk food and do both?


I turned on the TV, I watched a program, I started to fall asleep, I let myself fall asleep, I woke up with a headache again.

So I went out and bought myself a bucket worth of food.

I don't even know if I'm hungry.

Multicolored Balls

Headache again. I don't know if it's lack of caffeine, lack of water, stress from this situation or stress from not following through on the best agenda yesterday and today. It could also be lack of movement and watching TV all day. I took a shower; that didn't help. Now the TV is back on.

Late Night Haikus

Who received a grant?
I'm certain it was not me.
Why not write it here?

Someone is obsessed.
Trying to get me struck off.
What is their problem?

I erased two years.
Think they are satisfied now?
Don't get your hopes up.

Saturday, August 29, 2015


If things look different, it's just a precautionary measure. It may be useless at this point, but it's what feels prudent. 

Undefined Day

 Went to bed before 11, so it was easy to get up around 7 and walk the dog. The question becomes "What then?" I lay back down and slept some more, but I kept my alarm on because I shouldn't sleep too much. I was going to go back to the house and do wash and take my dry cleaning in one of the windows between dog walkings, but now I'm not so sure (and in fact, I may have already spoiled that plan. I'm going to a concert tonight with NF, so that also restricts my time. 

I should probably at least go to the dry cleaner. I always hate when I don't do that.

Actually, there's one in the building! I wonder if it's open today.

Friday, August 28, 2015

This'll Wake You Right Up

I'm enjoying myself. I'm watching an old show I really liked the first time around, and I really like it now.

The problem with enjoying yourself is you don't attend to your regular chores. One of those chores is writing in here. 

Now let me tell you about the title - because I probably wouldn't have written in here but for this.

I was watching the show. I usually stop at eleven, but tonight I pushed it, and watched until 12:10. 

At 11, I would have taken the dog out. See, I'm at Best Friend's, dogsitting. So since I missed my deadline, I took the dog out at 12:10, when the show was over.

As we were walking down the hall to the elevator, something made me check my pockets. When I checked my pockets, I learned a terrible fact: I didn't have my key to the apartment. I had the fob to get in the building, but I didn't have the key to the apartment. The key was inside the apartment.
Oh, shit.

I decided to stay calm. I was walking the dog, so walk the dog. We got outside, I dialed Best Friend: went straight to voicemail. No, no, no. Dialed again. Straight to voicemail. Oh, fuck.

Call her spouse! Maybe her spouse is up later than she is, watching movies on her computer or something. Dial, wait....it's ringing! 
It's ringing.
It's ringing.
She turns her ringer off when she's asleep; it caused a near panic the other year when Best Friend couldn't reach her for most of the day.

What now?

My mind is spinning through options: who do I know; where would I go? What do I have access to?

I thought of Brother #1. He's dog-friendly, but better than that, he's usually up late. Let's call him to talk through the problem.
It's ringing.
I hope I don't wake him up.
It's ringing.
I hope the phone's not downstairs and he's getting out of bed to go get it.
It's ringing.
He's going to pick up and be half asleep and I'm going to feel back because he's finally going to sleep at a reasonable hour and here I am calling and waking him up.
Voicemail. Ah, shit.

Okay. Well, I've got Plan One. If Plan One doesn't work I'm going to be pretty severely fucked and really start thinking creatively, but let's see about Plan One.

Best Friend's building - or community - has a concierge. Twenty-four hours. 
I'm going to ask them to help me get in. 
Maybe have security walk me over and let me in with a master.

Here's the problem with this:
I'm not the owner.
I don't know if the owner having said I could pick up packages is going to be enough.
I have a severe guilt complex and feel in the wrong always, everywhere, and expect to be shut down.

Well, you might guess how this turned out.

The woman behind the concierge desk was extremely nice. She checked her computer and found Best Friend had left a spare key, for someone else. She held on to my ID while I came back here, dropped off the dog, picked up my key, then came back and gave her back the spares.

I want to write a letter to the community company singing her praises. I hope I follow through on that.

Funny postscript: The dog. The dog, on the way back, starts pulling to go for another walk. I had to pull her ass to get her to go over to the building with the concierge, now she's pulling to wander some more. Dammit, dog! I need to get these keys back to the nice lady before she feels suspicious and anxious about having given them to me! I'm a Bad Person and I can't trip anyone's wires!

Second part: when I came back from delivering the keys, the dog was excited to see me. Like, rubbing her face in my crotch excited. It was like she wanted to take another walk. WTF? I had to wake you up to get you out the door a half-hour ago! I guess she caught wind of all the emotional energy. 

The other thing, which I forgot until I started writing the postscript, was that when I pulled her back from going inside after she peed (because we needed to go to the concierge), she then pooped. Okay, thanks, girl. But that wasn't why I was preventing you from going back in. But thanks!

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

The Unfaithful Along Political Lines

I was reading a Gawker post about Josh Duggar today and in the comments people were speculating about the next stage in the "scandal." The disheartening scenario that most people agreed (sadly) was all too plausible was that the wife would get blamed - for not being sexy enough or keeping him sexually inspired and so therefore faithful.

They also talked about what the excuses would be for how Josh is now healed and no longer needs to be punished in anyway - that he apologized, prayed, admitted his mistake and was in touch with his spiritual elders for guidance.

I would love to get the Duggar father on 60 Minutes, have him run down this checklist and then repeat it back to him and ask: "With those things, you feel a man is redeemed?" And when he says "Yes," then I would turn over a 16x16 card and say "I give you Bill Clinton."

"Now explain to me why your son and Bill Clinton aren't the same man, and why you think your son is chastened and forgive but Bill Clinton isn't."

Trump & Fox

Just before I got home there was a piece on the skirmish between Donald Trump and Fox News, which is an interesting phenomenon. On the one hand, it's interesting to see them "turn" on one of their loyal clowns (I say that because when he's on he's just a circus of bombast). 

On the other hand, it's interesting to see them try to play the aggrieved and offended card with Trump, who has never given a shit about what anybody thinks. In fact, I think it's the wrong play and makes them look weak. Roger Ailes demanding an apology for Megan Fox - oh, shit, that's not her name - Megan Kelly - makes her look weak and takes away her agency. She usually has the better response, which is to laugh and make the man seem like a fool. "Oh, you're angry? I'm sorry you have misplaced priorities."

Which is kind of what Trump is doing: keeping it light, like he doesn't care. Megan should thank him for boosting her ratings and keeping her in the news and on people's minds, like Trump always does. "As long as they tune in to the show, he say whatever he wants!" That should be her response, delivered with the cheer of someone who's successful and only getting more so when people attack her.

It should be interesting to see if there's any schism within the Fox faithful; whether Trump's loyalists suddenly find what they would normally agree was outrageous as a trifle and a waste of time. 

There a all kinds of other issues tied up in this, not least of them sexism, but I think Megan Kelly calling Donald Trump "the best spokesman for the show" would be the easiest comeback.


Yo La Tengo was the "house band" on NPR's "Morning Edition" this morning, but I didn't like it.

Not for the music or anything, but for the way it seemed like a blended promotion for the band. I don't know when they started announcing it, but I heard it three or four times on the ride home Monday, then it seemed like half the show this morning was about the band. Which is different from them being the house band. And the way the announcers kept gushing about it just left a bad taste in my mouth. It was about the least understated and NPRish thing I've heard. Frankly I found it annoying.

I mean, you're announcing it every fucking five minutes. Don't the people who listen to NPR tend to listen to more of it than five minutes? That means (like me) they heard about it last night, and now are having their tongue buttered with it this morning. Jesus, enough already, okay? Sure, they're great, but could you put your dick back in your pants??

As you can see, I was annoyed.

Car Love

It seems I only really notice and think about cars when I'm driving. Today a VW CC passed me in traffic and I remembered: I really like the Eos. I would buy an Eos. (Is it supposed to be all caps?)

I recently looked up Kia Optimas and found they were only $20,000, which to me is cheap and affordable. I said the same to Nurse Friend and she thought that was a lot, but I'm guessing she doesn't see car prices much. (I think she said she paid $13,000 for her most recent used, including car rentals while she was between cars.) As far as I know, the smallest cars come in at 14k or more these days. At least that's what I recall from when the new Beetle and the small Scions were new.

There was a tricked out Audi Q7 in traffic by me, and later an S5. The S5 was a brilliant white and I think that added to its attractiveness, but it's also the low profile. 

The Q7 was black with tinted windows and big tires; it was a luxury vehicle with some muscle to it.

Then, in the city, I saw my dream car: the Jaguar. It gets me every time - just the grill! I love the grill of that car! I mean, I love the shape of it, too, but the grill speaks to me in addition. Just such an awesome car.

The one thing I think about is: is it as fun to drive these cars as it is to see them? Because when you're driving it, you don't see it? 

Of course, I'm thinking of it as an extension or proxy for my ego, so that's the wrong attitude to have anyway. But I know I would get a buzz thinking: "They're seeing me in a Jaguar!"

Fuck Ted Cruz

 With a car, I listen to the radio. When I listen to the radio, often I listen to NPR.

Tonight there was a story about Ted Cruz' big push to woo evangelicals. He did a conference call with pastors today, does stadium events with Christian rock and pledges to shut down Planned Parenthood.

Based on this, here are my questions for Ted Cruz:

1. Why weren't you saying all this last year? It seems like you're just a fair weather friend to the evangelical community. How have you been interacting with it over your career?
2. Why didn't you try to shut down congress over Planned Parenthood last year? You just didn't feel as stridently about it then? Did you need to see this video to decide what they were doing was wrong? Why hasn't shutting down Planned Parenthood been your whole Congressional career, if "baby deaths" are that important?
3. Would you be okay with the restrictions put on abortion clinics (in terms of building codes) being put on gun stores (in a parallel way)? Why or why not? Are some rights less "legitimate" than others?

 My main issue with all of this is that it's mixing religion and the most secular profession. They're goals are completely at odds with one another, and for someone to profess that he holds faith first while running for office is just one big hypocrisy. One is all about this world, the other is about the next.