it’s 4am.
i heart procrastinating.
Monthly Archives: November 2006
concrete house
This is officially known as “The House With The Concrete Yard”. A few years ago, the people who live in this house got sick of people traipsing across their yard (which sits on a corner across from an elementary school). So, they put up the red metal fence. Then, for some unknown reason, they decided that a regular yard (you know, with grass) was too unsightly. Or maybe too much work. So – they paved the yard and painted it green. It fits perfectly with the plastic plants and trees that line the “yard”. Oh, and did I mention it is a church?
Definitely a landmark. Especially useful when I give directions to my apartment.
oh how true
*thanks to lahermite
nov. 23
Happy Thanksgiving! Todays menu: various forms of pumpkin. I had to go out to the farmers market to get a pumpkin – who knew they wouldn’t be available in grocery stores after Halloween? I’m (hopefully) having pumpkin-seed-crusted-tofu with baked pumpkin and cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie.
I’m feeling mighty anti-social today (or rather, I’m feeling mighty self-centered today), so I’m just hanging out at the house and maybe going for a nice crisp bike ride later on.
The whole family is watching the Macy’s day parade; Mom&Dad in MT, David in ME, me in AL. Not sure if we’ve ever been further away from each other, and yet I feel closer to each of them than I have in years. I’m thankful for that. I’m thankful for having more money than I need. I’m thankful for being able to spend a little bit of that money on organic gala apples. I’m thankful for finding “Zinn & The Art of Mountain Bike Maintenance”. And the fact that my philosophy paper is based around the Phaedro, which I already know a little bit about. And a great girlfriend, who just got a job closer to what she wants to do. And friends I know I can count on. And for a warm jacket on cold days, and heat I can turn on with the touch of a button. And for dreams, which keep my wrists intact.
Nov. 22nd
Found yesterday on a bunch of lightposts up in Five Points: the homeless strike back.
It’s a crappy cameraphone photo (I’ll try to get a better picture today), but the point is this: the shelters and “homeless advocates”‘ in this town are completely ineffective and full of bureaucratic posturing. (with the exception of Church of the Reconciler.) There are too many people in need, and not enough resources to go around. That’s why there is an about-to-pop pregnant woman on the street, and hundreds of others who have no place to sleep.
I’ve been reading thehomelessguy.blogspot.com lately, and it makes me realize just how much I take for granted, even though I work with FNB and have interaction with Birmingham’s homeless community weekly. As my salary increases, so does my discontent.
nov. 21
There’s a church a few blocks down the street that, although I would never step foot in it any other time of year, has a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner every year. Since I got out of class early on Tuesday night, Emily and I went. Although they always look at me weird when I say I don’t want any turkey or ham, it’s always tasty and delicious.
It’s started to get cold here. I even turned on the heat a few days ago. Soon there won’t be any leaves left on the trees.
nov. 19th
I was a complete activist slacker on Saturday, passing on the SOAW protest in order to go to an Auburn vs. Alabama party at Kelley and Nancy’s. I’m not that into football or cops who drive Hummers, but I had a pretty good time anyway.
Next year I’ll probably go back to the SOAW. I’ve been most years since I’ve lived here, and I always get completely disgusted by something or another, but at least I feel like I participated in something larger than myself. I guess that’s the point.
P.S. Jeff snapped a photo of a couple of guys in stress positions at the SOA, and turned it into a “W: The President” spoof. I made a cafepress sticker out of it.
nov. 17, a new day
Bought plane tickets last night to go home and visit my parents during Christmas (flying out the 20th, flying back Christmas night*). Called Mom to let her know about her Christmas “present”, and she was excited, but then said “he’s not THAT sick, you know”.
I do know that. Dad isn’t going to die from Parkinson’s in the next six months, or year, or maybe even ten years. Maybe he’ll outlive me. I have spent most of my life trying to distance myself from my parents, that is true. We’ve had our problems, that too is true. But the past few times I’ve gone home, they have treated me as an adult and respected my decisions (even if they disagreed with them). Now, I want to go home and have good times to remember while we can. Before we can’t.
* I love flying on Christmas. You get free headphones, extra peanuts, and drink coupons. Everybody is really nice, like we’re all suffering in this together, but we’re not. Because I love it.
nov. 16th, whining, part two.
Yummy little cupcakes, indeed! These went over great at my work, and at Emily’s new job as well. I’m a vegan baking queen! (And I owe it all to the the post punk kitchen).
On an entirely different note…
There are so many things I try to be. Loyal. Strong. Independent. Free.
There aren’t very many things that I try *not* to be. In itself, this is good. I don’t want to spend my life trying *not* to be someone; I’d much rather try to “become who I am”, as they say.
I have been told time and time again that I do not trust people enough; that I need to not be so cynical. This may be true. However it is become ever apparent that there is a distinct difference between having a friendship, and having a friend.
Consider this my manifesto: I am who I am. And I don’t give a fuck* what you think of me.
* Or, rather, I’m trying not to give a fuck what you think of me (but sometimes I do care).
nov. 16th, or the day I whine too much.
Success! I love the delicious little gingerbread cupcakes…among other thing. Had a good time last night baking them at Laura & Andrea’s, too. (And who knew a milk crate could be so useful – bike basket for groceries, ingredients carrier for baking, holder of records).
Class tonight. I am so far behind on my reading – maybe I”ll catch up tomorrow. (I’ve been saying that for two weeks).
Dad is doing worse. Shaking more. Tired more. The medicine is worse than the disease, so he’s not taking any. I’m worried about him, worried about mom, but I’m too far away to really help. I’ve spent the better part of my adult life isolating myself from my parents; now I wish I were closer to home.
But I’m not. And life is good here. And if they need me I’ll go home. There’s lots of jobs out there, but I’ve only got one set of parents.
I’m too young to be having these kinds of regrets.