The Goth Gifted Spawn of Satan and I went skiing today.
Brilliant move… let’s start out the day on a rock infested steep. Took a hella fall on the first run, to the extent that one of my bindings released. I struggled for almost 10 minutes to get the fucking ski back on. Humiliating. Ugh. In my defense it was a seriously steep Black run and my boot and binding were caked with snow.
The entire time my ungrateful miscreant of a child laughed her ass off. Grrrrr.
Strangely I have been working very hard the past few days.
Not to worry, nothing too excessive. Wouldn’t want to give anyone a fit of apoplexy. Particularly myself. My back and shoulders are so sore from sitting at this desk all week that I can barely move right now, so I must have accomplished something. If you’re really my friend you’re come over and rub my shoulders. I’ll make you a killer cup of coffee in trade. Or a PB&J sandwich. Or play you a few songs on the piano, or, promise NOT to play anything on the piano. I’m all about choices.
There’s still been plenty of time to peruse Fark, eBaums, StrongBad, CL, and of course clean the house, get over a cold, avoid the gym, and lock the teenager in the crawlspace. It’s getting harder and harder to cram the bodies in there.
Also found hours to work on my new career: Selling white women and talking with dolphins.
Miss you TK
Met an interesting and intriguing person as well. Mmmmmm. A freakish occurance in Reno.
I HAVE made great progress with one of my clients though.
Now I’m nervously waiting to hear back to get their feedback. Or a pink slip.
As with anyone the least bit sensitive and artistic there’s a voice inside the head which says…
‘Pssst. Hey. You with the curly hair and geeky-ass glasses. You don’t really think that people are going to like this crap do you?’
Your voice may differ with mileage and/or looks.
It can be music, web design, writing or anything I work at or hold close to my heart. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the guy in the balcony to stand up and yell “hack!”
Am I the best at anything? Hell no. Not even close. I muddle along and try to learn more and practice more. Hopefully the voice of doubt is a reminder that I’m human and not a flat-out sociopath or narcissist.
Or, maybe I am a fucking hack. Probably a mixture of both.
In an effort to make absolutely sure that Saturday was spent working I spent Friday afternoon fucking off and hitting the gym. Headed out to Zephyr at 10:00.
Had a great night. EJ sounded good even though he felt he was off on his performance. Fran, EJ, Josh, Matt, Eric and I all had a riot. I’m not sure what was in the beer but it brought out a tirade of 80’s fashion memories –shudder- and truly bad jokes. Conversation ran the gamut from Mormons and atheists, to jail cells, to Members Only jackets, to Rational Recovery.
We also heard a new band in town, Phun. Unusual sound for Reno with a singer/rapper, percussionist and dj.
Afterwards E~ and I headed over to Tonic. The Dj was okay and Kill Bill was playing on the plasmas. Wouldn’t you know we had forgotten formula and sippee cups for the kids in there? Damn, we had to take our leave after one drink lest we regress too. I love my small circle of friends. It’s quality not quantity in all things.
The perfect segue to a post from Jack yesterday. He was answering a question posted by another blogger:
What makes you happy?
The original writer mentioned something about fields of flowers, puppies, sunshine and other horrific frightening images. As usual Jack came up with an interesting list .
It got me to thinking about what makes me happy so here’s my own short list. By all means feel free to write your own. Blogs are for sharing ideas, generating creativity, and kicking our collective asses.
I can’t stress this enough: Being a full-time misanthrope is a tough business and not for the weak of heart.
Being kind and bearing my sunny side in a blog kills me. It goes against nature and all that is holy. My hero cynic, humorist, misanthrope and satirist Ambrose Bierce is rolling in his unmarked grave.
Writing does keep me inside and away from humanity and isn’t that all that really matters?
Miss R’s List
My daughter, laughter, nailing a tough piano passage –usually written by Ben Folds, 80% cocoa chocolate, espresso with perfect crema, good books, my best friends, being onstage, writing, reading the writing of others, an amazing unexpected kiss, sharing books and music, body surfing, skiing, swimming,, the sun on my face when walking along the Riverwalk in summer, live music, wearing FMPs and short skirts, Frank Sinatra singing Fly Me To The Moon, pistachio ice cream, Eddie Izzard shows, a massage, sunsets over the water, falling in love, finding humor in the hardest of life’s lessons, being truly honest except when it would harm the other person, my worthless cat Lizzie Borden, New York City any time of year, the smell of rain in the forest, watching meteor showers lying comfy on a blanket on the beach, actually understanding new principles of physics, real absinthe, Shea Stadium, and did I mention my daughter?
That’s it for tonight. It’s been such an unusual weekend. Unexpected kinda-scary-amazing-out-of-the-blue feelings, The Second Annual Anti-Valentine’s Day Party, painful ghosts from the past to be exorcized, tackling new Black diamond runs and winning, spending time with my daughter and listening to her weird life, and having coffee with the biggest nerd on the planet. A living breathing stereotype of nerdishness; he plays World of Warcraft all day and lives with his grandmother and goes to ComicCon EVERY year. Promised that I would meet up with him and I’m genetically incapable of hurting anyone’s feelings. Until…. he tried to clumsily reach across the table to touch my hand. Dear god. I practically ran from Starbucks. The poor guy.
Oh yeah by the way… Starbucks is where I suggest meeting when I’ve no intention of getting to know someone intimately. My bad.
Sleep Well. Have a few zzzzzz’s for me. I’ll stay awake and keep the monsters at bay.