• 24Dec 09

  I Wasn't Going To Post This

  But I decided to anyway. What difference does it make really, after all?

  I have an admission. I still hold out for Santa Claus to bring me all the toys I always wanted and never got for Christmas.

  I wasn't going to post this because I feel like I've already beaten the dead horse when it comes to growing up poor; it's that fear of "walking to school uphill both ways," syndrome. I don't want to be that guy, let alone even come across as that guy. I've probably already even said that.

  I just tell stories about my life and it's who I am and who I was.

  So yeah, I have a little bit of a delusion but I do accept that it's there, so I'm not totally crazy...right? Right?!?

  A few years back, I saw a Darth Vader head carrying case for Star Wars action figures. I got that for Christmas once. Problem was, I had 3 Star Wars guys, so it was dreadfully empty. It was rather depressing to look into when you're eight- especially when all your friends have about50-100 of those guys and G.I. Joe's.About a year later, Dad decided our toy box (a big, cardboard box) was taking up too much space in our little house and took all the contents out in the yard andburned it with some other stuff. So went the death of my Vader carrying case.

  So anyway, I bought another on impulse 20 years later when I saw it. WTF am I going to do with it? Nothing, really.

  Thankfully, Toni has lent a great deal of understanding about all this toy nonsense of mine. She indulges me when I look over Hot Wheels and Lincoln Logs (man, I always wanted those!) I suppose that's largely why I game- to vicariously re-live the childhood I wanted, materialistically anyway.

  So...yeah. I'm going to go to bed in a little while, and when I wake up I'm going to go out to the living room and peek under the tree.

  Obviously I'm going to be disappointed, but I can't stop myself nonetheless. It would be an awfully tall order anyway- I don't even have a fireplace, much less a chimney.

  • Posted Dec 24, 2009 7:23 pm PT
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• 23Dec 09

  Happy Holidays and Stuff

  Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all out there.

  It's been a busy week so we've not had much time to enjoy the holidays- not to mention lack of funds- but I did get a nice present yesterday: my singing voice back!

  To my new friends; back in the summer I posted a depressive blog about losing the ability to sing. This was a terribly frustrating thing as I had sang all of my life. Turns out it was largely a reflux in the vocal chords problem moreso than allergies.

  So, I tentatively took the mic for Rockband 2 with the girls yesterday, amped up the volume and the difficulty and scored:

  100% = Lit "My Own Worst Enemy"

  100% = Simon and Garfunkle "Sounds of Silence"

  99% = Journey "Don't Stop Believin'"

  99% = Billy Idol "White Wedding"

  Woo.

  Actually, I don't so much have the most amazing voice as an uncanny ability to sound-imitate different vocalists.

  Fun fact: "The Twist," by Chubby Checker (Ernest Evans) was an impression of Fats Domino's voice. This was somewhat distressing to Evans, because he was rather talented in his own right- but his impressionist song of another guy became his magnum opus, and it was a cover song to boot. I would say "poor fellow," but he made lots o' money so he can deal with it.

  As for myself, I have just one more...month...of antibiotics to take, but I'm up and about more. It's difficult though, because I'm not getting enough nutrition with the dysphagia. It's getting better, but slooooowly. Total weight loss due to hiatal hernia surgery: 22 lbs.

  I also quickly read "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz." Before you laugh, I highly recommend L. Frank Baum's works about Oz. Better than the movie, in my humble opinion.

  • Posted Dec 23, 2009 4:00 pm PT
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• 14Dec 09

  I Wrote This *edit*

  and some people said it was pretty good so I thought I would share.

  Uh, first...I'm having some Gamespot issues. The spacing keeps getting janked up, hopefully it's right now that I've messed with it for a fourth time.

  I'm tired, I'm hurting, I'm bored, I'm depressed and I bring everyone down with that. Um, my bad. Pics didn't go over so well I noticed on my last blog. Hm. Note to self: no more pic blogs.

  First, to PixelHunter, Bacchus2, David_lck and any other people I know: congratulations on the "Gamespotter of the Year," nomination, and sorry for being a spoil-sport about it. It just...bothers me. I can't help it. I can't take a group of my friends and single one out as better than the other- especially when I don't even know the rest of the list involved. Sorry.

  So this was called "The Tree." Happy reading if you so wish.

  Once I walked across a golden field, crying. Down a hill and over a crest I traveled, needing to rest yet never stopping, for my destination lay just ahead. I found my tree, a drooping maple. It's leaves wilted. It's bark crumbled. I bent down and laid my head upon a tendriled pillow.
  
  I said to him "Good Day Mr. Tree
  Am I silly
  Talking to you
  I don't expect an answer from thee"
  
  "I see your scars from years now gone by
  Blackened skin
  Carved initials
  Still your branches reach out to the sky"
  
  "Perservering! Trying! Though you fade
  Your branches
  Dropping away
  You stand mighty through pain years past made"
  
  I laughed a hollow sound,for it was not real. I felt my cheeks blush at my improvisational rhyme though no person was within miles to hear me. I stared up at the blue sky and felt the warmth of the sun. My friend The Butterfly had arrived, and watched me intently from a distance. He slowed tilted his iridescent wings and brought them back up, as though to acknowledge that I was here.
  
  The butterfly raised from his perch and fluttered lazily towards me, landing on my chest.
  
  I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
  
  I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of the fields and the woods, and sighed. Lying discontented and melancholy, I felt a tickle across my face. I opened my eyes again and lifted my hand to my cheek where I had felt that tickling sensation. It was not wet from the tear that I cried. Turning my head, I saw a single leaf hanging from a bough. The sun glistened through the bead of sadness the tree had brushed from my face, and I closed my eyes again and smiled.

  • Posted Dec 14, 2009 7:20 am PT
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