Burgeoning Routine
Current mood: warming up!
Category: warming up! Life
In constant motion the future is.
I'm pulling together this routine. It's nice. It's the light at the end of a very long tunnel. Life is beautiful, and so are you.
I've gotten up two day's in a row before my alarm, which is always nice when it's not too early. Starting the days with a ten minute sit. It had been quite a while since I've meditated, so it will take a few days/or a week to really get back to the benefits of that. Some good stretching, some push-ups and planks (whoa) and the blood starts to flow.
Can this be an actual routine, or will it just peter out like all those other attempts? Time will tell.
Anywho. Things are going well right now. Good people are abound. I've been listening to bunches of new albums. Some that I'm really impressed with right now: The Black Keys, Lil Wanye - The Carter III, Hot Chip - Made in the Dark, My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges, and Bun B - II Trill. Of course I've been listening to a ton of older stuff too: Tupac - All Eyez on Me (1&2), Tupac (Makaveli) Don Killuminati: The Seven Day Theory, Leonard Cohen, Hot Chip - Coming on Strong, UGK - Underground Kingz, and many more. Kinda all over the place.
Going to take tomorrow off. Three day weekend, baby! Tomorrow also happens to be the 14th anniversary of my Mother's death. I'll go swimming or something, maybe see if the Pops wants to go have lunch/dinner. Time flies, man. I have a birthday coming up in about a month. It'll be here before I know it. My Pops wants to go to Mexico for a few days next month as well. One last hoorah before going back on probation (recidivist). We'll see.
Going to go run Produce errands today. Have an extra person training, so I've got some free time to run around and get Cambro's, new knives, and some storage bins. While I'm at Ace Mart, I'll pick up a few things for my kitchen as well. I need a few Cambro's, a pastry cutter, some spatulas, and some other stuff and things. I lost all my good shit from there.
I plan on spending a good amount of time at the Springs this weekend. Or maybe the Icehouse. That would be nice. I could get Heather and Nick to meet me there. I know my Pops is down, and the Phunksta is probably game. Butler got a new bike (too much bike!) and wants to go for a ride. That would be nice, too. I definitely have plenty to do work/board-wise as well. I have to write some instructions for monitoring policy, do a monitoring report and update a monitoring calendar. Blah, blah, blah.
The life and times of a bearded weirdo -- part 6
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Life
Remember, it's not what you say, it's what you hold back.
That is the lesson.
Moving forward here. So I posted something the other day that said I was trying to work out the kinks in my discipline. I got a response back that said, "What discipline? What kinks?" Which was my point exactly. What discipline? What kinks?
At work, I have discipline. At home... eh. That may actually be a by-product of work, in fact, which of course is no excuse. I feel that a life of excess and hedonistic satiation is the key to happiness and potential enlightenment of some kind. I also feel that it is the key to muffin tops and massive coronaries. I like the former much more than the latter. Food, booze, and other physical gratifications are very pleasing, and can make you quite sleepy.
Things are sweet right now. Even though I've been working crazy hours and sleeping very little, I feel like I'm in a good enough place to start making some very positive changes. First things first, remember the joy of excess. When excess becomes compulsive routine behavior, you have lost the sight of the path. The very reason why you do something should not be lost to the ease of its acquisition; do not let the cure become the cause.
I cook the way I do for a reason. I drink what I drink for a reason. Most things I do have a well thought out justification. It's the amounts that become blurry. Over indulgence out of compulsion is bad, bad, bad. Over indulgence out of bliss, is good, good, good. Trust me, I've been there. I am Dionysus. I represent force, music and intoxication. The bringer of madness; the wine bearer.
Of course this leads to hitting the wall, and pulling yourself up saying, 'When did this start happening?' It's those 'W words (and sometimes how)' that get you. How did I get here? This is not my beautiful wife? Etc. Then again, hitting the wall isn't all that bad... It's usually facing and owning up to a realization of something that you've known and avoided for way too long.
Like most things.
Anyway. I started writing this blog on Tuesday. It's Sunday. I didn't have a beer or any other booze all week. It was a good week, even went to a beer social and only took one tasting sip of the Epsilon because it's been like ten months since we've had that around. The sober beer social was an interesting experience. Everyone around you just keeps getting more and more intoxicated, and there you are drinking water (Nestle?), and taking it all in. It was grand.
Going to a drink a beer or two tonight. Heather, my co-worker just came back from a trip home to Wisconsin (good beer) with a trunk full of goodies for me. To celebrate the Solstice, I'll share a Wisconsin Belgian Red with my damies. For myself, it will have to a mix of Totally Naked, Oberon, and Two Hearted Ale. That sounds nice. Maybe one of each. Oberon with a slice of Valencia Orange, yes please. I love this Wisco hook-up. The last year and a half of my life has been filled with a bounty of Bell's and New Glarus beers. The dankest shit.
I found a small dionysus statue that I may purchase for my new bar. Fitting. Yeah.
The life and times of a bearded weirdo -- part 5
Current mood: anxious
Category: Life
Breaking silence, like breaking a fast, abides by certain rules that mainly exist for your comfort and safety.
- Work - Life is relentless. It never stops until you're dead. This is a good thing, a tiring thing, and very educational. For me, my devotion to my job and commitment to Wheatsville's success is my number one priority beyond my own well being. I have been working a shit ton (metric). 125 hours last pay period. Yay salary! Things are good, and I'm enjoying it, so burn out isn't an option as of now.
- Food - Things have taken a brief hiatus on the gastronomical front due to the excessive hours. Much to report, but now is not the time. This is just an update. I ate at Hudson's and have pictures to share and a review. I have made contact with a Frenchman who raises small tasty animal, of which I have purchased a few. Sorry vegetarians and vegans, go eat a steak.
Cooking one those small furry creatures for Shadd and Malia tonight. I'll show you pictures. It's gonna be the slam.
- Liquor - A trip to the doc a few weeks back has prompted me down a line of thought that I hate, but know to be a necessary evil. There is a good chance that I will be cutting back my alcohol consumption. More on this as the story unfolds.
- Blog - Thinking of taking this blog to blogger.com. I feel that I could do more outside of the myspace. To be continued.
- Sleep - I used to do this.
- Discipline - Got any extra, I'm in the market. I feel that it is time to finally become a man of routine. I need the discipline, and the structure. Fuck.
- Excess - "Your day's of plenty are numbered." This is my mantra going forward. No roots in the gloom and doom of some, but the fact that I have started treating certain things like necessities rather than treats, or treasures. Time to scale back a bit.
For now, that is all.
Currently
listening
:
Underground Kingz
By
UGK
Release date: 2007-08-07
Shakur Saturdays
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Friends
I'm three for three now. The past three Saturdays I've enjoyed my coffee to the comforting sounds of the late Tupac Shakur. Hmmn. It's weird. I have a seriously nostalgic attachment to rap of that era. Between Snoop, Tupac, Biggie Smalls, Dr. Dre, Nas, and later Jay-Z and Master P., I'm reminded of late night underaged escapades with the Quix, Cory, Justin, Sean Winn, as well as a revolving cast of miscreants and mild misdemeanor level criminals, and the occasional felon (like my father).
Back then, we were invisible and bullet proof. Full sized house speakers hooked up to tiny CD player in the back of someone's hoop-ride. Trunk rattling bass complimented by hand thrusting teenage pricks loudly reciting the lyrics in unison, or the occasional verse-by-verse interchange when tracks featured multiple rappers. A classic maneuver that we would often employ, would be to put the cars parking break on, shift into reverse and slightly engage the accelerator to make the car look like it had hydraulics and was 'bumpin'.
Those were the days. Growing up on the end of a dirt road leaves you with a good amount of time on your hands. Most of our crew lived that life. [someone just knocked on my door. i got up and threw on my robe, opening the door to see two middle aged hispanic women, and a boy around eight or so. they were trying to encourage me to read the bible and were hawking spanish copies of the thing. i told them more or less that i wasn't interested. the screen door separated us, tupac blaring in the background. i'm sure it was a great experience for that kid.] When we were like fourteen we already well into our careers of doing things that we shouldn't have been. We started drinking regularly when we were about thirteen or so. It wasn't long before we moved on to other things. No one cared, really.
Parents weren't around, and those who were, were too high to notice. This was around the time my own father began his descent into the world that would later land him in the Fed. Meth. Our entire community of working class folk, all of the carpenters, roofers, painters, framers, electricians, mechanics, bartenders, waiters, cooks, chefs, nurses, musicians, welders, artists, and even a doctor were hooked on the shit. Most of them came through my living room. Waiting. Waiting for Juancho's door to open, and some other fiend to walk out after scoring giving them the chance to go inside his bedroom and wait some more. In that environment, no one is going to notice or care if a pack of stoned kids come through like the Mongol horde, eating everything that wasn't bolted down or walking.
We were all poor. Like government cheese, and cans of PORK, poor. The rap that we listened to in 1996 still spoke of growing up in the ghetto, being disenfranchised, living hard, and doing drugs, things we could resonate with. No one talked about bling, or dancing when it is allegedly hot'n'ere, so hot in fact that I should take off all my clothes, or drinking codeine out of baby bottles, or getting crunk. Nope. These dicks, Pac, and Big, they were talking about coming up. It, of course, was overstated with Tupac, he did have an East Coast education after all, and started that whole T.H.U.G.L.I.F.E. thing. T.H.U.G.L.I.F.E., by the way was an acronym, a code of ethics for the inner city Thug. It stands for: The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everyone. In short, when you fuck up your kids, society bears the burden.
This is the code of ethics:
1. All new Jacks to the game must know: a) He's going to get rich. b) He's going to jail. c) He's going to die.
2. Crew Leaders: You are responsible for legal/financial payment commitments to crew members; your word must be your bond.
3. One crew's rat is every crew's rat. Rats are now like a disease; sooner or later we all get it; and they should too.
4. Crew leader and posse should select a diplomat, and should work ways to settle disputes. In unity, there is strength!
5. Car jacking in our Hood is against the Code.
6. Slinging to children is against the Code.
7. Having children slinging is against the Code.
8. No slinging in schools.
9. Since the rat Nicky Barnes opened his mouth; ratting has become accepted by some. We're not having it.
10. Snitches is outta here.
11. The Boys in Blue don't run nothing; we do. Control the Hood, and make it safe for squares.
12. No slinging to pregnant Sisters. That's baby killing; that's genocide!
13. Know your target, who's the real enemy.
14. Civilians are not a target and should be spared.
15. Harm to children will not be forgiven.
16. Attacking someone's home where their family is known to reside, must be altered or checked.
17. Senseless brutality and rape must stop.
18. Our old folks must not be abused.
19. Respect our Sisters. Respect our Brothers.
20. Sisters in the Life must be respected if they respect themselves.
21. Military disputes concerning business areas within the community must be handled professionally and not on the block.
22. No shooting at parties.
23. Concerts and parties are neutral territories; no shooting!
24. Know the Code; it's for everyone.
25. Be a real ruff neck. Be down with the code of the Thug Life.
26. Protect yourself at all times..
Imagine being that Nicky Barnes guy, and being called out in a gangster code of ethics! Shit. He probably got shot or something before long anyway. Weird shit, right? I know this is a bizarre tangent, but I thought it was interesting, maybe you learned something today.
So. Anyway. Nostalgia, blah, blah, blah...
Went on tubing trip that was a floating bachelor party. It was interesting, and bizarre. Jared Quick, three of his bro's (two of which were skipping high school to go on the river...), three of his buddies that he played college football with, and myself went to New Braunfels and did the tube shoot. Twice. There was a tree covered in barb wire that people were climbing up to jump off of. Feet were cut, some badly. I was drinking some of the new-to-Texas Oskar Blues beers (over 8% and in a can!) and felt as though I was living the high life. Eventually two of the football dudes got into a wrestling match turned fight. One of the guys did a fake tapout, then fishhooked the other guy. If was a bad scene. This, mind you, was in broad daylight, in a public place, with several other people who weren't in our party, passing by. It was funny as hell however.
Shortly after, one of the most hilarious things I've ever had the pleasure of being a part of occured. We were on the bus to get back to the toob rental place (everyone there spelled tube like that), and this girl told us that she was holding the space next to her for her friend Kara. Travis, a large, tattooed black man, went and sat next to her. Another guy, actually the guy who pulled the fake tapout on Travis only ten minutes earlier, Dan White, whom everyone calls "Whitey" helped to start one of the most hilarious acts of chiefing I've ever experience. [a quick aside Travis and Whitey had a most interesting inside racial joke going all day, and i imagine that the majority of there seven year friendship has been spent referring to each other as "black guy" and "Whitey". in public, it turns heads. that's for sure.]
Kara got on the bus and sat between Travis and her friend. Whitey starts calling out Kara's name. Travis responds in turn with Kara. Kara, confused, sundazed, drunk, and most likely not that bright anyway turns to Travis and asks, "Your name is Kara, my name is Kara!" With the type of unison that is usually only accessible through the use of psychedelics, all of our heads turned, and our depraved, beer and sun exposed addled minds locked into the moment like a pack of rabid dogs on the hunt. Travis responded with a "yeah". The true Kara said, "Wow, I've never met a boy named Kara before!" Whitey tried to take to the joke to the emasculating level by suggesting that Kara (Travis) was gay, and was going to be marrying Jared later in the weekend. She believed him. It was on. No one was laughing. We played it in stride. A round of under the table jokes ensued. Real Kara was stunned. She looked around at our party and asked, "So, are you all gay?" Only Whitey spoke out that he was straight, and in fact engaged to a "real women". At this time three middle aged lesbians were getting on the bus. They called us out for not being gay, but this went unnoticed by Real Kara due to the fact that Jared was now sitting in Travis' lap. Hilarity ensued when we got back to the rental place. One of the guys ended up with Real Kara's number.
Keys were lost. We ended up all riding back in the same truck. Laws were blatantly violated, people argued, non-stop about such trivial things as, 'who has more or less pimp hand' and 'who is the bigger bitch'. It was as entertaining as it was annoying. In the end, I don't know if I like much the idea of floating bachelor party. Seems like trouble to me.
The subsequent wedding was pretty decent. More scripture reciting than I would have expected, but it's their thing. The setting was nice. The Lake being the backdrop as the sun lowered toward the horizon. Old friends, coaches, and parents that hadn't been seen in a long time. I drank a bunch of Scotch and sang karaoke. It was decent, too.
Still waiting for Ralf's baby to drop. That Little Guy is really hesitant to be out just yet. Come on kid! You can do it.
The life and times of a bearded weirdo -- part 4
Current mood: awake
Category: Life
If the average number of views for past blogs applies to this installment, my view count will pass 5000. Ha.
So. Things are going well. I'm broke has hell, and that puts a bit of a damper on things, but at least I have my health. So far. Still working on that coronary. Heavy cream courses through my veins like fat people in line for a water ride at Schlitterbahn, slowly and awkwardly in large groups.
I have been going crazy go nuts with this camera. I haven't taken any pictures of my bare ass yet, but that is only a matter of time and a few doubles of Scotch away, I'm sure. I did get a great shot of my father and I doing a 'mock wipe'. Actually someone else took the picture, but it is great none the less.
They started knocking shit down at Wheatsville. The big machine made short work of the building we call the red door. It was like watching a big hot knife go through butter. Actually you can see what I mean by watching this video.
See what I mean. Awesome. And yes, that is me cackling in the background. I took some arty shots of the Red Door, they are found in the May 2008 album under my pictures.
I finished reading one of the most 'eh' books of my life. One which has garnered much acclaim over the years, but didn't really garner shit from me. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy... I read it after finishing three thick Dune books, and it was cute and all, but just, eh. There were some high points, but they were no where near as high as Douglas Adams must have been when he put that shit on paper. I'll probably finish the series eventually. I moved on to Kitchen Confidential, by my new hero/asshole-in-arms , Anthony Bourdain. I'm only like thirty pages in and it is already a way more interesting read.
Played GTA 4 over at the Butcher's house while doing laundry. Some other Wheaties were there, and we had dinner consisting of two types of stir-fry and some homemade hot wings. That dude can cook some wings. Anyway, gamers, Shitrock - that game is f'n sweet. I always like the GTA games. Great for catharsis. I know I can't go beat up little old ladies in broad daylight, or seek revenge on the FBI for raiding my house twice in real life, but thanks to the kind folks at Rock Star games, I can. Yep. Ladies, I know you probably don't approve of such things, but grinding some assholes balls into the sidewalk after a bad day at the office could be very cathartic. Give it a shot if you get a chance.
Two things before I go. I will start a new blog, similar to Shadd's beer and wine blogs, but mainly doing restaurant reviews. I don't know how frequently I will be doing them, or when I'll start, but I'm warning you now. I'm taking my snobbery on the road.
Second, I had a great idea the other day. Well, I've already stated my desire to do an illegal restaurant/supper club, but don't have the money for proper legal counsel just yet, so that's on hiatus. So... the next best thing would be to do a dinner party for about ten people. It wouldn't be free. I would need a crew of about five to serve, prep, and sous chef for me. And one asshole to do wine pairings, and play Sommelier for the night (hint, hint, wink, wink, nudge, nudge). The crew wouldn't get to eat the meal we serve, we would do a staff meal for them. I'm thinking the meal would consist of about five to seven course, all with wine or beer pairings, including dessert. How guests would be selected, I don't know, but they would need to be carnivores. Sorry vegetarians and vegans, that can be another play date. Timeframe would be about, say, mid to early Summer. More on this as it develops in my head. The idea is out there though, and if you are interested in either serving/cooking/eating, keep it in mind.
full
hungry
animated
accomplished
anxious
nostalgic
awake