Seasons Greetings!

Jack and Lola insisted that i make this an annual holiday tradition.

So here's our 2009 XMas Greeting...

from: Capt. Jack, Lola G. Biscuit and me

Betoots!

everyone should create their own word at least once (a month).

betoots (bĕ-toots)

-noun Slang
1. adventurous spirit
2. an uncanny ability to introduce new stimuli into a hackneyed environment at exactly the right time
3. the humble sense of humor required to make the most of the aforementioned ability

e.g. meet me at the train station and bring your betoots!

-interjection
1. a salutation or toast meaning: to the whimsical nature of the universe and my microscopic role in its criminally vulgar shyness

Keep Your Head

Maine joins the ignorant "majority".
murderers don't even need drivers licenses.
there are no miracles and there is no justice.

i choose to no longer identify myself as part of human race.
i'm cancelling my subscription to the collective conscious.

just throw me down the rabbit hole and be done with me.

interpret this!

there's a very good reason i don't tell other people my dreams. to prove my point, here is what i remember from this morning...

I was walking around a sort of post-apocalyptic desert.
In the distance rose the silhouette of a huge steam-punk castle - a black junkyard mountain against the red ground and sky of an otherwise empty landscape.

I knew that’s where I was headed.
I knew I had to check the door.

A loop of transparent glass ramps led up to the entrance.
The door resembled an enormous broken cog, a half-gear.
At the very top were strange white symbols, written on a pane of glass between two of the teeth, that I knew translated as “Emperor.”
I heard the word in my head spoken with the voice of SkekUng, Garthim-Commander of the Skeksis from The Dark Crystal.

I knew this castle was mine. I went in.

I was in a sort of lobby area that resembled the insides of a whale, à la Kingdom Hearts.
I was offered a tour of the facility by a male receptionist at a host stand.
He introduced me to the facility’s Alternative Energy Expert, Sean McLaughlin, who came through the entrance behind me. We recognized each other and Sean joked that he wasn't sure he was still willing to lead the tour.

Then Rick Cook appeared to my right, where a computer monitor displayed the outside of the “castle.”

(Sean and Rick both recognized me from the “real” world. They both knew who I was- but neither seemed to be aware that the research facility was mine. I was consciously enjoying the anonymity)

Rick told me that a very rare animal called the banana-chaser lived on the exterior walls.

When I looked very closely at the monitor I could just make out a large gecko-like grey shape crawling on the darker grey rock.
I pointed to it and asked if it was camouflaged. Rick responded that the creature was in fact bright-yellow, it was just that the monitor was in black & white.
He adjusted some knobs and the camera change to color and zoomed in on the creature.

I looked and realized the banana-chaser was built like a Muppet.

When I looked at Rick to say something, my alarm went off...

20 Year Retrospective

looking back on the last 2 decades of my life, brought me to the realization that i can sum it all up with one slightly simplified timeline:

click image to enlarge

(they've always been there for me!)

filters

i've spent a significant portion of my life (almost two decades now) battling homophobia.
my tolerance for willful ignorance has always been zero- aside from the very small margin set aside for the very elderly people in my life that are dear to me.

there is no allowance in that margin for high school classmates clinging to a ridiculously narrow and outdated world view.

in the current age of internet social networking sites, i want to thank the genius who came up with the "block" feature.

thank you granting me the power to filter out hatred and bias!

now if only i were allowed to run electric current through the bars on my front windows, i'd be a very happy man!

the clock is ticking...

Lou gets back in 2 days.
The spray can of whipped cream is still in my refrigerator...

(flash forward to the movie scene with Lou asleep on my couch: a hippie-crack smile on his face. I'm at work and Jack & Lola are batting his make-shift nitrous bong around on the living room floor, fighting over the last bits of whipped cream.)

i hate whipped cream.

Ladies with Destinies

i have a thing for Ladies with Destinies. They get to me.

in my teens it was Amberle Elessedil, the elf who became the next Ellcrys (a sacred tree) to save the world from being overrun by demons.

in my 20's it was Yuna, the summoner on a pilgrimmage of self-sacrfice to obtain the Final Aeon and defeat Sin.

...and now it's Juliette Burke, the scientist and Other on LOST who sacrificed herself last night to save Sawyer and Kate from getting pulled down into the stormy, electro-magnetic bowels of the island with her.

i cried my eyes out.

did you know ...

... that "YOU CAN"T SIGN AN E-MAIL!"

i'd like to thank a faculty member I've never even met for that bit of wisdom (shared with me today at full volume and dripping with sarcasm sauce).

Prof. 1 asked for help putting together an award nomination for Prof. M.
She forwarded me a support letter from Prof. C to include with the submission.
I opened the letter and saw it was unsigned.
I thought this was highly unusual (support letters with no signatures being remarkably suspect) and e-mailed Prof. 1.
She told me to e-mail Prof. C.
Prof. C called me back to tell me that Prof. 1 said that her letter was going to be submitted via e-mail and "YOU CAN"T SIGN AN E-MAIL!"

I was a bit taken aback by the forcefulness. my first thought was "no duh!" then i quicky thought to myself "her statement has a zen element to it when you take it out of context. but then again, so many things do. perhaps Buddhism is all about shifts in context?"

back in the real world, my inner dialogue amounted to just brief enough of a pause to seem polite.
then I said, "I think Prof. 1 may have thought you had some type of electronic signature".
the call ended on the tone of "whatever" and instructions to call her faculty assistant, who of course has already left for the day...

where's Walter when you need him?

hosannah

i was walking by a church this "good" Friday (same church from march 13: "once upon a workshop"), and saw a gaggle of ladies headed inside, and was immediately inspired to write this blog entry.

i thought to myself, "surely you can't go through with this? and TODAY of all days!"

my inner self replied, "sacriligious! they're the ones walking into the church with Dunkin' Donuts iced coffees!"

so, FYI ladies, Jesus prefers Starbucks.

kitchen appliance Yin & Yang

Lou bought me a new toaster oven (for which i'm extremely grateful), but i can't seem to master it's controls.

ex: yesterday morning's toast:

one side...                           ... the other!

biggest LOST mystery ever?

what happened to Matthew Fox's (Jack Shephard's) chest hair...?
Season 1:







oh the joy & excitement of the premiere!

and the season 3 (?) shower scene...








but now in Season 5 we have this...







are you telling me he spent his Oceanic money on manscaping?
i think i might cry :(

once upon a workshop

i once attended a workshop titled "How to Stop Dating the Wrong Men"- or something like that. it was sponsored by the CDGLCC and i actually PAID $ to attend this charade.
i remembered this when i walked by the church (a church!) it was held in the other day.

i was hoping to gain some insight into my terrible dating habits. my last partner had died 2 months earlier of a drug overdose and my previous dating history, although not as fatal, was a bit of a train wreck.

through a series of circumstances i can't recall (and wasn't notified of in advance) the focus of the "workshop" became "How to Meet the Wrong Men." I guess the facilitator cancelled, so the entire event became a social meet-and-greet of sorts.

There was the meet everyone in the room schtick where you chat one-on-one until the bell rings and then find someone else. I spent many of the brief sessions "unpaired" as i refused to scurry around the room jotting down names and numbers.

Then there was the "testimonial" portion of the day, where Keith (filling in for the missing facilitator) waxed poetic about his brand new relationship of 6 months with Prince Charming and how he just KNEW it was True Love and would last 4ever.

I had been set up on a relatively informal blind date with this Prince Charming just before they started dating. There weren't any "sparks" between us- he kept playing Def Leppard songs on the jukebox- but we had remained flirty passing acquaintances, so i was probably the only person in the room who had an accurate mental picture to go with Keith's rambling personal anecdotes.

when the workshop ended, i felt as though i had been released from a trap. i was almost as relieved as when i narrowly avoided being sucked into that pyramid scheme where you hire homeless people to peddle knock-off scents on street corners.

a short time later, Prince Charming flashed me his bum in a club. Keith saw, and thus began the end of their fairytale romance.

the lesson in all this: when workshop facilitators don't show, cancel the damned workshop.

We'll wait here while Jim...

For some reason last night, while out for pints with Rick, i remembered that my favorite childhood TV program was Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.

Oh, the naivete of youth!

Marlin Perkins was everything i hoped to grow up to be; and even at a young age, i already appreciated his deadpan narrative humor from the sidelines as his co-host, Jim, attempted to approach the dangerous beast of the week.

the perfect day

i'm always bumping into hidden corners in my mind.

i've just recently reconnected with Matt Abell (see Jan 8: "The Buddha Rules") through Facebook.
it's been 19 years since i've seen him.

as it turns out, i had "edited" my memories of my first man-friend and best comrade, leaving out a large portion (all) of the horribly selfish things i did to him.

in my mind, Matt and i will always be sitting on a grassy knoll at sunset in September, covered in charcoal with newsprint pads propped on our knees as we draw the trees and Matt teaches me the lyrics to an entire album of Violent Femmes songs.

this is my perfect day.

mark your calendars!

there was a french question on Jeopardy last night (something about what does the ballet position "en cloche" resemble).

i got it RIGHT & Lou got it WRONG!

he said "clock", but i knew it was "bell".

i will always remember this day!

revenge is a dish best served...

... already eaten.

this isn't from the distant past, but i can't let myself forgot the meanest thing i've done so far this year (it's still early).

i brought in 2 dozen cupcakes to share yesterday.
after dropping them off in the staff lounge and sending out an e-mail to everyone, Paul came into my office and asked me to return a china plate to Annette (the micro-management monster woman) for him.
i wasn't very excited about the idea. it's my general practice to avoid her if at all possible, which is easier now that i don't work for her and have my office in a different building.

so when Nilsa came to get cupcakes for everyone in the other building and didn't have a way to carry them, i happily offered her Annette's plate.
i stacked it full of cupcakes (making sure to get some crumbs on it) and told her to be sure to return the plate to Annette- empty.

if you don't think this was mean, then you have no idea how much Annette likes cupcakes.

Dear Diary: 03-09-08

... a short scene from the forthcoming made-for-TV-movie of my life story:

Roll the clip...

(Two men inside a small car as it pulls out of a major mall parking lot)
FREDD: Did you like the movie?
(long pause)
LOU: Yeah.
(long pause while the car veers around a sharp curve)
FREDD: I'm still not sure why Juno reminded Siobhan of me.
LOU: Huh.
FREDD: And a couple of other people have said that same thing.
LOU: I guess they are trying to tell you that you are a bitch.
FREDD: What? Juno wasn't a bitch. I liked her.
LOU: Exactly.
(very long pause)
FREDD: It must be because her scarf is like mine.
LOU: Yeah, I'm sure that's it.
(fade out as car goes around a sharp curve and disappears from view, errant seagulls caw in the background)

Intro. to Architecture:

first year of college, first class of the day.
there are a bunch of "wacky" things that stick in my head from this class (mostly the weird singing/chanting from "Atlantean"- or at least Steve's comedic impression of it), but there was one lesson in particular i tried to incorporate into my life as a habit.
Never leaving the same way you came?
Never take the same route twice?
i'm sure Patrick Quinn had a more eloquent way of phrasing it, but you get the general idea.

i put this lesson into practice for years, keeping my senses "stimulated" in my daily patterns, forcing myself to re-experience the "familiar" as "new", when viewed from a different angle.

this habit changed when i decided to "go green" and not own a car (for safety and financial reasons more than environmental ones). it just faded away (rather quickly) as the daily routine of walking to and from work became just that: routine.

it's been 8 years (2 at my current job).
i walk the exact same route every day.
i know when to step over buckles in the sidewalk and where puddles will appear in rainstorms.
i can tell whether i'm running early or late by the traffic patterns at key intersections.

my pedestrian commute has become everything Prof. Quinn warned against.
my brain focuses inward rather than outward.
while walking to/from work, i am almost completely unaware of my external environment.
instead i'm planning my day, thinking deep thoughts and giving my neuroses some structured time of their own.

as a result, my insomnia has disappeared and, in reasonable weather, I get in about an extra hour of reading a day.

The Buddha Rules

as a freshman at RPI (1989) i was experiencing my second childhood (although one could argue it was kind of my first).

i had Winnie-the-Pooh sheets on my dorm bed, flashlights shaped like fish, a basketball net laundry basket, and a big blue stuffed dog named "Freddie".

in the drawer of my studio desk i had one of those see-through plastic toy guns that shot "gloop" (if you don't what this stinky, toxic, fabric staining stuff is you can still find it in it's plastic bubble in some gumball machines).

this became the Buddha Gun, a weapon used to enforce the Buddha Rules; 13 bits (a baker's dozen, not the superstitious kind of 13) of esoteric "wisdom" (created by Matt Abel- where are you!, Marq Mosier and myself), named so due to one of my instructor's inability to pronounce my last name correctly (she was French and will remain unnamed in this blog entry for fear of retribution).

A typical scenario would involve interrupting a conversation, rattling off one or more of the Buddha Rules and punctuating the entire exchange with a shot of gloop to someone (else's) head.

As you can imagine, this was not nearly as endearing as i imagined it to be at the time.

The only rule i can remember now is "Jell-O doesn't stick to Jell-O".

Rather than try to scour my brain for the other 12 rules, I've decided to begin anew, keeping only the jell-O rule.

I will return to this post to update it as i come up with new (possibly even improved) Buddha Rules, so be sure to check back!

THE BUDDHA RULES:

1. Jell-O doesn't stick to Jell-O

2. a stale apple fritter is better than no apple fritter

3. More $ ≠ More Important

4. never let a little thing like total public humiliation get in the way of having a good time.

5. white trash problems require white trash solutions

6. the second bottle of champagne is never as good an idea as it seems.

7. neither is the second mint-chocolate-chip milkshake before going to bed (see BR#6).

8. never eat Cheetos before playing with yourself

9.

10.

11.

12.

BONUS:

The Year of the Ox

the holidays have come & gone, but Inauguration Day, the LOST season premiere, my 38th B-Day, and Chinese New Year (Barack Obama is an "Ox", i'm a "Dog") are all just around the corner.

to get anyone reading this caught up; since my last entry i've:
- become a 2 remote household (something i've always hated and sworn i'd never do). i now have one remote to turn the TV on & off and a different remote to change the station.
- had a nightmare that GW Bush did away with World AIDS Day
- cleaned my refrigerator for the first time since i moved in, in 2002
- ordered Chinese food for delivery (i have take-out phobia and always make someone else do it for me).

i was reminiscing about past New Year's Eves, and the first thing i thought of was the burnt fish sticks.

(the second thing i thought of was Marq's Purim Party, but Purim's in March so i must have had it mixed up with Easter- although i could have sworn this was when she taught me the words to "Mele Kalikimaka"...?)

back to the fish sticks.
i was living in Latham (and owned a car) and Heath was in town from California so i decided to have a New Year's party. EVERYONE i invited (about 8 people) cancelled at the VERY last minute.
rather than force Heath to sit in my house and eat 5 people's share of dip, we went out for drinks.
at Wrinkle Room i started tying helium filled balloons to various parts of Heath's outfit until he resembled a puppet. i tied one to his zipper, to counteract it's ability to unzip itself.
everything was sort of OK- until he walked in.
one of my invited no-show party guests (who had begged off due to illness) - Chris Pulcher (an ex i was still kind of seeing).
i sauntered up to him with some sarcastic comment.
he made fun of my retro winter coat with it's humongous fur collar.
i started punching him in the face and the bouncers kicked him out.
(i haven't seen him since)

i don't remember the rest of the night.
i know that Heath and i got back to my apartment in the wee morning hours completely wasted (yes, i somehow drove, but save your moralizing for someone who hurt someone before learning their lesson).
we were both starving, so i put an entire box of fish sticks in the oven.

we woke up in the living room much later that morning.

all that were left of the fish sticks (which i believe had been cooking for about 6 1/2 hours) were blackened ashy husks.

so we went out to breakfast...