Why did you stop writing?

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Well

I was so stressed out this week I made myself sick a few times. It's funny, people who read this called me to see if I was OK. I pretty much lied. I'm coping. I'm a little stressed. I'll be OK. I was/am a mess. I craved strange food, things like Burger King, and KFC. I never eat fast food. I had Friday off. I had plans, but I cancelled them all and rode up to my grandparents place It's about an hour to my parents, and then another 3-4 to my grandparents. I drove down Thursday night so we could get going early Friday morning. My mom is taking it kind of hard. It is her dad after all. She nearly burst into tears at the table when we went to eat dinner. I hugged her and said we should change the subject, so we talked about movies. I slept maybe an hour. I drove on the way up. Dad, despite his insistence otherwise, was tired. He needed to rest. When we got there my grandparents nurse opened the door. She's a good woman. She's become very close to my grandparents and is taking as hard as the rest of the family I think. She was tired. She's there 24 hours a day for 4 days every week. Granddad looked about like he always does, except... It's hard to say, but he just seemed a lot weaker. They have both aged a lot since I saw them six or so months ago. What struck me was the color of their skin, or rather the lack therefore of. They were so pale. I hugged them both, but was afraid to hug any tighter than the lighted touch. After that things got hard. Granddad's mind is still sharp as a tack, but he has no strength. He cannot stand any more. He can barely hold anything in his hands. His eyes are bad, and all he can really see are silhouettes. His hearing is gone. He cannot hear sound from the higher end of the spectrum. Which means he cannot hear anything my grandmother says. It's so bad he cannot make anything out if there is any sort of background noise. If there is another conversation going on he gets angry because he can't hear everything. He thinks we're talking about him. And we're not. But he thinks we are and yells. Grandmother on the other hand cannot hear lower voices. She can't get around so good. She had to use a walker to move, but she can stand. She's also in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. She can remember in vivid detail incidents from 25 years ago, but she'll forget what she is saying mid sentence. She, for sure, does not understand how serious Granddad's condition is. His condition (Or what is going to kill him) is an aneurysm. It’s grown from 2 CM in size to nearly 10, but they aren't sure. They aren't sure because the radioactive dye they use to test that sort of thing would shut down his kidneys and kill him. They cannot tell the exact size, or whether it is leaking (Which, if it were, would mean days rather than months left in his life). His two heart attacks and general poor health makes it pretty much impossible to operate and repair the damage. So though he looks pretty much the same as he did a few weeks ago, he is not. Grandma does not understand this. Whether it is denial or Alzheimer’s we don't know. So when we get there my dad takes the nurse to go buy groceries, pick up the prescriptions, and find a wheel chair for my granddad. This is my fathers usual mode. He can't deal so he disappears. MY mother and I spent the time amusing my grandparents and trying to keep them from moving. As soon as the nurse was gone they both felt the need to get up. I told them to tell me what they needed, and I would go get it, but there was some reason why they needed to get up. Grandmother, it wasn't so much an issue. She's still somewhat mobile. Still, her balance is bad, and I've herd a number of stories about her falling. It wasn't that long ago she fell, hit her face on a nightstand, and broke her nose. Granddad was a whole other operation. He would not listen to us. We tried to get him to wait until the nurse came back, but he would not. So we tried to make sure he didn't hurt himself. I cannot explain to you how hard it was to try to help him stand until he was to tired and gave up. It's not the physical. I'm a physically strong man. I could have hefted his wizened from under one arm and hauled him into any room in the house. It was just an enormous emotion drain. I cannot put the words down in a way that you would understand unless you've been there. When my dad and the nurse got back I went to use the restroom. I sat on the edge of the tub just collecting myself for several minutes before heading back out. I wore the mask that everything is fine with me. No wheelchair was to be found. So my dad starts calling around. The nurse helps out my grandparents in their various request. My mother and I entertain them with stories. Simple stories. Since every sentence had to be repeated 3-4 times at volume. A wheelchair is located so my dad and the nurse head out again. My grandfather becomes very insistent that I find several tools out in the shed. he wants to give them to me. I know they aren't there. He gave all his tools to my uncle a while back. But I don't tell him that. If I bring it up he'll curse my uncle for "Stealing the damn tools." So I go look. I end up out in the tool shed three times looking for them. I never find them, but despite the 100 degree plus temperatures in the shed it's easier to be in there than inside. I know if I look long enough it will satisfy my grandfather, and if I don't he won't be able to let go and will want to go out there to look himself, which he CANNOT do. When my father and the nurse return. things deteriorate some. Grandfather becomes increasingly belligerent, and Grandmother becomes increasingly confused. IT tears at me to see. It's like a real physical wound. A psychic wound. We spend several more hours there. And then we head out to drive home. I feel horrible because I'm GLAD that we aren't staying. But I know I cannot take it.

Sis is coming out to see them next weekend. So Mom and Dad are going up again. Before I was up there I told Sis I'd go to, but I can't. I told Sis that in near tears today, and she was very understanding. I told her to brace herself, because it's different than it has been before. I got home close to midnight last night. I slept 10 hours. I still feel burnt. This is the hardest thing I've ever dealt with in my life.

-Tenth

"Thank god you were there Tenth," Mom said, "It put them in better spirits than I've seen them in a long time. The nurse said this is the best day for them she can remember recent." Jesus, I cannot imagine the worst.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Serenity

Today I drank a beer. First time in well over a month. It was wonderful. I sat down, watched TV, ate dinner and drank a beer. Strange how much solace one can find in such a simple thing.

-Tenth

...
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Today

Today was the first day in a while that felt "normal."

I can't explain what that means. It was nice.

Red (Taking off a orange safety vest at a job site): I'm hot.

Me: Oh yeah! I'll second that!

Red (Stumbles and almost fall flat on her face): Did you just say what I think you said?

Me (Grinning): Yes. Yes I did. (Red gives me a strange look) What?

Red: I just... Your just not someone I would expect that out of.

Me: What? Because I'm all tightly wound and sexually repressed?

Red: Well, mostly, yeah.

Me: That's why I said it! (A little self satisfied smirk creeps onto my face).

Red (Laughing) : Well alright then. Your crazy.

I laughed. It's impossible to argue with her on that. One because I am a little nuts, but Two, because I am pretty sure she does not see herself as attractive. So I just smile and enjoy the moment.

-Tenth

One of many.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
So last night Red and I went to see the 40 year old virgin. I've not laughed that hard at a movie in a long time. We bothe walked out of the theatre in a good mood.

Sometime in the night my grandfather passed away in his sleep. I got the call at 9:30 this morning. I'm home now. I'm packing for a trip to my parents tonight, and to see my grandmother tomorrow. I don't really know what else to say right now.

-Tenth
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Tame

I'm a little drunk right now, so bear with me.

My grandfather is dead. and there is nothing I can do about it.

I am very sad about it, but I have difficulty expressing things sometime so I push it down and hold it in until I have the time to deal with it, and I won't until Saturday or so. The funeral is later this week, and I'm getting ready to shut down again and let the machine take over until I get back home. It’s exhausting to shut down like that. It's likely not healthy, but that's how it is.

So tonight Red agreed to help me let off a little stress. We went to a sort of seedy bar near my place. I had enough to get me very nicely buzzed. Almost snockered. Red drank only 7up. She, of course, drove me home. Despite my clumsy attempt to get her to come up to my place for a while, she's gone now. She did however leave me some cookies she baked for me. And right now, that means more to me. I feel awfully lonely lately. The past few weeks have been particularly difficult. But it's how things are. Times like this are always rough. Fuck. I'm loosing my train of though. Things are fucked up, and I'm sad. I suppose that line could have been the whole post.

-Tenth

Inebriation, revelation.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Long Line of Cars

The Funeral is over. It happened Thursday.

I arrived at my Grandmothers house Wednesday. Grandmother seemed in as good of spirits as one can expect. She had been married for 65 years to the man. We managed to make he laugh some and smile, and held her hands and hugged her when she cried. She told me, at least twice, how much like her father I am. A man I'd heard only a few words about in 31 years. She told I was also much like my other grandfather (On my father's side) who died month before I was born, and has only been a grainy 8mm film legend to me.

Thursday I woke up at 5:00 AM. I was sharing a room at the hotel with my sister, and she left her watch alarm on. On Colorado time. Bah. I got up and got dressed. The cloths I think of as my monkey suite. I know my Grandfather would tease me fiercely if he saw me in Dockers, a shirt and tie, and a nice jacket. He was a blue collar guy he whole life, and I've always been a t-shirt and jeans guy. We went to my Grandmothers home. She was almost ready. Her nurse was going to drive her to the funeral home, so we went to the flower shop to pick up the flower arrangements. The lady who ran it was a few minutes late, and I thought my father was going to explode with anger. I cut him off and did the talking, which I'm sure made him more angry, but his angry was excessive and needless. We arrived at the funeral home far earlier than Dad had expected, and he calmed down. We walked into the chapel hall, and the casket was open. I paused for a moment, not sure if I wanted to see my grandfather's corpse. I walked up and my family began setting out the flowers. I looked down at the body of my Grandfather and felt nothing. His face was slack. Completely. It was covered in an amount of makeup that would have put the most vain women I've known to shame. His hands were made up as well, and his nails were nicely manicures. Not at all the appearance of the heavily calloused hands, with it's chipped fingernails, that used to pick me up, when I was young, in the garage of their home so I could see the wood toys or puzzles he was working on. A halo of cigarette smoke above his head. No. This was not him at all. I though, "This is not my grandfather." The relatives and friends began to arrive. Relatives I'd never heard of. My grandmother's cousins. Their Children. My Grandmother's brother. One of my Grandfather's Sisters. My grandmother's Uncle who is still alive. Most of them said to me, "Tenth? Oh my! I haven't seen you since you were this tall!" Holding their hands near their knees. Other's whom I had never met would say, "Your tenth? You grandfather was so proud you worked for (My Company)!" And then the women from both groups would add, "Your such a handsome young man!" It was as if there was a script. The service was nice. My uncle eulogized my grandfather in a way he would have approved of I think. My uncle didn’t pull any punches, but was kind, and made people laugh more than once. I was a pallbearer so I waited as everyone filed out past my Grandmother. My mom, Sis, and a cousin helped my Grandmother up to the casket to view my Grandfather one last time. Standing to the side discussing the mechanics of carrying the casket out I realized all four of the women were in tears. I learned later that my Grandmother had held my Grandfathers hand for a while, kissed him on the cheek, and told him goodbye and that she would always love him. The ladies left, and we prepared to move the casket. The lid was closed, and that moment it became real to me. Up until then I half expected my grandfather, a famous practical joker, to come in from a side room laughing at us all, filled with pride that we had all swallowed his elaborate prank hook, line, and sinker. But he didn’t. No, we carried the casket out to the waiting vehicle, and I got a little misty eyed.

We got to the grave side and there was a military Honor Guard there waiting. My grand father served in the Philippines just before, and in the earliest days of The War, before the Americans became involved with the attack on Pearl Harbor. Myself, and the rest of the pallbearers carried the casket to the lowering device at the grave. After some minor trouble with said lowering device, we all sat down and the pastor gave another small speech. Then the three man Honor Guard took the flag off of the casket, folded it, and presented it to my Grandmother. Then they played Taps, and I nearly lost it. I held it together though. Each of the pallbearers then set the white gloves on the casket with the flower from out lapel. I leaned close to the casket and whispered, “Thank you for your humor and woodworking.” I returned to my seat and my dad handed out roses of a peach color to everyone to set on the casket. As I took the rose from my dad, the image of all those jokes, all those puzzles, all those wood toys from my childhood, each crafted with hours of skill and love, and the thought that none of those things would happen again, I lost it. I cried. Not a little. Tears streaming down my face. After a few moments I could feel my mom and Sis hugging me. They were crying as well. I cried like that for several minutes, and then it was done. We then all filed past the casket, and said our final goodbyes, and set the roses along the top of the casket. We went to my grandmother’s home then, and everyone ate and talked. It was not a sad gathering. We were sad, but we talked about my Grandfather, and his jokes, and all those sort of things.

Friday I drove home. It’s about a three and a half hour drive. I did it in about three. Even with dropping Sis off at the airport. Last night I went to go see Cake in concert at the Catalyst in Santa Cruz with Red. I’d bought the tickets a month before, and didn’t really want to go, but I knew I needed to get out. We ran a little late, and weren’t able to get a table up on the balcony, so we stood on the floor. Red felt about the same as I did, but as she put it, “We spent the money, you need to get out, and we’d both really regret it if we weren’t here.” And she was right. All I can say is that Cake is awesome live. If you get the chance to see them in a smaller venue like the Catalyst, you owe it to yourself. Something about their music makes me move, so I spent much of the evening dancing. Sometimes with Red, more often with random women, struck by the same desire to move that I had, who were near me. Any other night I think I might have tried to talk to them, but it was enough to just dance, and honestly, that’s all I wanted. It seemed to work out for the best. Dance for five or ten minutes and move on. It was great. I got home feeling tired, feet hurting, and a little dehydrated but I was happy to have gone. Lying in bed, ears ringing, feeling the Tylenol PM I’d taken to off set my soreness, my mind was clear for the first time in weeks.

-Tenth

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
No. 13 Baby

I'm tired today. Work was what it is. I've got stuff to write about but most of it is going to wait. I don't feel like dealing with heavy depressing shit right now, so I shall provide you with a snippet of conversation.

Pulling up to the gate in the company vehicle.

Red: Do you have you key card with you?
(She NEVER has her security access key card with her)

Me: What am I? Your security card bitch?

Red (Smiling): Yup, your my bitch!

Me (Taking the key card out of my wallet and holding it out of reach): I'm no one's bitch. Say please.

Red: I'm not the one who has a pair of fuzzy handcuffs in their nightstand!

Me (laughing): I never said I was the one wearing them.

Red (laughing): I never thought you were. Could you PLEASE give me your access card?

Me (handing the card over): Your welcome.

Sometimes these things happen.

-Tenth

Evil. All evil. No exceptions.

(Edit: I left out the word never... Bah! Changes whole meaning!)
 
Last edited:

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Midnight Show

She said she loved me.
(But she had somewhere else to go)

I knew my family life (And childhood by default) fell more toward the "Fucked up" end of the spectrum by the time I was 14 or so. I think that's when I could wrap my mind around the concept. My sister remained quite unaware until she put pieces together when she was about 25 or so. She's 4 years older than I am. As she put things recently, "I was to afraid to ever get in trouble. You had an independent streak in you that you could not help but get in trouble." The trouble I got into was small time stuff. "Bad" grades (Oh my god! I got a "B"! I am so screwed, my folks are going to be pissed! Seriously), thuggish friends (Metal heads, Grunge boys, and Geeks all), and an just being into everything my former college basketball playing father was not. The weirder the better. Sci-Fi books, Horror movies, weird art films, comic books (The more violent the better), and video games. My mother has told me on many occasions that she 1) doesn't like children (Oh you two were ok...) and 2) didn't necessarily want children (Oh that changed after your sister was born). I know they did the best that they could raising us, and it would break both of their hearts to think otherwise, but I'm pretty damaged. My sister is a little more functional than I am. Sure I get on fine in life, good job, nice apartment, a fair number of friends who are general good people and tend to be very loyal, but I am a pretty unhappy guy sometimes. Everyone has down days, but most people haven't ever called in to work because the act of getting out of bed feels like it will bring nothing good. Just at it didn't yesterday, the day before that, today or will tomorrow. I've not been that bad in awhile, but I know those depths. I know what shame feels like because I have a lot of it. I know rage and anger. I keep them in a bottle. They rarely do anything good. Other people often feel so... alien to me. Suburbia, SUV, 2.5 children, ,I see them sometimes and I think "Fucking sheep, you have no idea what the world is." Life isn't fair. I was told that at a very young age, and it stuck. I wonder if those people feel as isolated as I do. Or are they following some sort of program with out knowing why? I tell myself that they are, and I'm better off because my eyes are open. But secretly I fear it is I how has my eyes closed and these fucked up notions of duty, honor, right, and wrong that run my life are smoke. I've talked about my difficulties with women here. My extended celibacy. I'm sure it has less to do with any lack of ability to talk to women, or any sort of poor appearance on my part. No, I get into a situation with someone I like and I go all retard on them. It’s a death spiral. I feel like I'm not doing well and I try harder. I get jittery and nervous, and end up coming off and an insecure spaz. Or perhaps I just think I do. I get in a sexual situation and... I freeze. It's hard to explain. I am un able to proceed or back off, or even explain the problem. My brain vapor locks. The body is willing. Hell the mind is willing, but *CRASH* lock up. It takes time for me to get comfortable enough with someone to even discuss sex and sexuality. The smallest thing with that person can set me back to square one to. Sex was EVIL growing up. Bad. Forbidden. Don't even think about it, let alone talk about it. God for bid you express any sign you are a sexual entity. Discussing these things with anyone make me feel so fucking vulnerable and exposed it's an exercise in absolute terror. If It's someone I can relate to without delving into those parts of my life. I'm fine. Talk about work and hobbies, and I've got a well of enthusiasm and confidence that is never ending. *SIGH* There is no reason for you all to here this other than it's been rolling in my head since my sister was out here, and it needed to get out. Maybe it's gone now and I can sleep without my mind racing.

-Tenth

Why?
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Revolution Number 9

Me: 9 years.

Red: 9 years?!?!

Me: Yeah. 9 years.

Red: Jesus, 9?

At which point the conversation ended due to outside circumstances. When she called later it didn't come up.

-Tenth

This one goes out to... No one I guess.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Sad

I'm sad.

Just sad. It's no the all consuming crushing black depression I've felt before. I'm just sad. I feel weepy. I think about things and my eyes tear up. I feel really, really alone. I'm angry at people, but telling them would do no good. Not even make me feel better. So there is no point. I feel let down by people, but again, no point. I'm lonely, and I've told people, but for the most part it's the same. I know some people try to help, but they can't. They can't help me the way I need to be. So. I'm sad.

-Tenth

A cat. Tied to a stake. Pounded into frozen winter shit.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Dry Your Eyes

This weekend was pretty good. I needed some good times. Saturday I did a 25 mile ride event. I finished in less than 2 hours feeling a little tired, but happy. Today I had breakfast with The Giant and Ecks. The two of them seem really happy together. For the first time I didn't kick my self for passing up on a chance with her because he was so into her. I was just glad that the two of them had found each other. Part of my problem recently is that I've been feeling my baseline loneliness much more acutely than I had been. I don't need someone on in my life, I've been alone a long time, and I've learned to cope. I'd forgotten that for a little bit. I don't need anyone, though I do want someone. At the suggestion of some friends I put a few personal adds up online. I'd done it once before, and that had been a disaster, I'm not sure what made me think this might work out differently. In the past month I replied to over 50 ads. Not one responded. The only hits I got on mine were Russian spammers. Fuck it. My ego took a beating and I gained nothing from it. What I was doing wasn't working before, but at least people like Smile, Ecks, Red, A, , and the like were friendly to me, even if nothing happened. I'm just going to do the things I enjoy. Alone if I have to. I lived in fear of what certain people though most of my life, and I'm over it. I'm just going to do my thing and survive. I'd like to think something good will come of that, but 31 years on this planet and a badly broken heart have taught me otherwise.

-Tenth

Remember to exhale.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
The Fog

I watched the original "The Fog" with Red and Mr. Bojangles tonight. I cooked up a feast that was enough food for each of them to take a big freezer bag full home and we still had deserts and beers. Excellent. I've met Mr. Bojangles a few times before, but tonight was the first time I ever really talked to him. The guy has a lot in common with me. Similar interest growing up. Similar childhoods, and he has an ex-wife who sounds a lot like Belle. All in all I was very glad I had this opportunity to hang with him. I love having a few people over and doing movies and dinner. We discussed doing it again next week. Perhaps it will become a regular thing.

-Tenth

Tired.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Oh My Golly!

Sunday a group of us went to see the Bridge School Benefit show. It was an awesome concert. The Line up:

Neil Young
Los Lobos
Good Charlotte (IMHO the low point of the evening)
Emmylou Harris (Which I missed most of trying to make a bathroom and beer run)
Jerry Lee Lewis (Who, surprisingly, rocked)
Norah Jones (Not my thing, but good)
Dave Mathews (Not a fan of the band, but acoustic he played fucking awesome)
Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young (How many times in a life do you get a chance to see all four of them together?)

I really can't say enough good things about the Bridge School benefit shows. It's different than a lot of concerts because it is not simply another gig in another town. It's a two night engagement. The musicians seem to really enjoy it, and when the musicians are having fun, the show is fun. A couple of good conversation snippets stick in my head. The first was walking to Shoreline (The venue) and debating whether or not they would let us take in a small hard sided cooler:

Mr.Bojangles: If they hassle us at all, Red, you flash them! While security is distracted by your breast I'll run the cooler in!

Sixwolf and I in unison: Good plan!

Red: Good try guys. My hands are full. Hey, Annabell. Your not carrying anything, and your shirt is much more flashable in.

Annabell: I don't think so. Besides, I doubt I'd get a reaction. Everyone has already seen my breast.

Me: I haven't. *Raising hand*

Sixwolf: Way to volunteer Tenth! *High fives me* OK Annabell, we're ready!

Annabell laughs.

Much later, after the show Sixwolf is talking about a girl he has a Halloween date with.

Sixwolf: She's into Pot, porn, bondage and owns five corsets!

Me: What's not to love.

Sixwolf, with a big grin: Exactly.

Red, in the back of the car, laughs.

One hell of a night. My Halloween isn't shaping up to be much, but that's fine.

-Tenth

There is a hole in the sky.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
29

My grandmother fell again. I just got the email from my mom telling me about it. She's going to be wheel chair bound for 6 weeks while her leg heals.

I just what to put my head down and cry. She deserves some time when everything is OK. She's been through to much.

-Tenth

We all have.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Lost Horizons

Sis called me tonight. We just chatted a little. We've been playing phone tag for a week. She's doing well. I was relieved to hear that she has had a similar problem to one of mine. I have trouble with the chronology of events since my Grandfather fist got sick. Not just that but when things happened is a problem as well. I feel I just went to the local bar with Red to blow off some stress, but that was before the funeral. Picking up Red from the train station on Saturday feels like some distant hazy memory. It's a little frustrating. I can’t remember when I've talked to people, or if I've told them about things. I wonder if it's a side effect of stress. I know I've been more emotional than I was. At the Bridge School show one of the songs by Dave Mathews nearly brought me to tears because it made me think of my Grandfather. The Nora Jones set made me feel really sad and isolated until Red, noticing I was just sort of staring into space, nudged me and asked if I was OK. I shrugged and we joked for a few moments and I felt a little better.

One of the things I've realized recently is that in the order of things, my job is not that important to me. If I had to choose between The Job and nearly anything else in my life I would choose what eve it was in my life. Money is good, but money isn't happiness. I knew that when I was broke and unemployed. I just forgot for a while.

-Tenth

My patience keeps me plaintive, my high hopes keep me alone.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
And so I said, "There are a million things I want to say right now, but I'm not going to say any of them." I waited for a moment, part of me hoping she would ask. A bigger part of me hoping she wouldn't.

"OK." She said, but something lingered in her eyes, and I don't know if it was curiosity, apprehension, or confusion. I turned before the words had fully formed and walked off to my car with and arm full of Chinese food leftovers, and did not look back.

I don't know if she watched me leave or not.

-Tenth

What is going on with me?
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Pizza Girl

OK, I'm telling this story because it amused me, and I forgot to mention it last week. Before I started posting here there was a woman working at a local book shop who I thought was quite cute. So I would chat with her whenever I was in the shop. I very quickly learned that she was a lesbian. No big deal. It knocked her off the list as someone to start a relationship with, but definitely someone I could be friends with. So, on a couple of occasions I was in the shop when her shift ended so we hung out at a near by coffee shop and talked movies and books. A few times when I came into the shop her partner was there. The partner seemed to take an instant dislike of me. I don't know why. She (The Partner) would make little cutting comments and give me the evil eye. I was not of the mind I was going to "convert" the book store girl. I had just moved up here an knew pretty much nobody, and it was nice to have a friend who had not known me since the dawn of time. Once the partner accompanied us to coffee. Things were pleasant enough, but I got that "Your not welcome" vibe in spades. I finished my coffee, excused myself, and left. After that when I went into the shot the book store girl barely said two words to me. I wrote it off. Perhaps I had crossed some sort of boundary. I really have no idea. A few weeks after that the book store girl was gone. I asked one of the other employee's what had happened to her. They answered with a shrug and, "I think she moved."

Fast forward to last weekend. I was hanging out at CM and BD's place with Nail. We decided to order a couple of pizzas while we waited for people to show. When the pizzas show up, I don't pay much attention to the delivery girl. I hand the money over. She hands the pizzas over. "Do you want any red peppers or parmesan cheese?" she ask and looks up at me. I recognize the voice. "No..." I manage to get out. We lock eyes for a moment. Less than a second. It's then that I recognize her, and I see that she recognizes me. And she bolts. She finished loading the other pizzas into the warmer bag as she RUNS down the stairs. It was the strangest reaction I have ever seen. She might have muttered a thank you as she went, but I didn't hear it. I swear I have no clue what that was about, but it made me laugh.

-Tenth

Are we still friends? Or do you not know either?
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
The Torch

It was crazy at Trader Joe's. Perhaps the craziest I've seen it in a long time. I end up in a like with an elderly couple ahead of me. They had a cart packed to the gills with stuff. After a while the man looks back at me with my hand held basket, with a few assorted things, and beguines to back their cart up, "You got a lot less than me, you go ahead." I was in no rush, so I said, "No, that's alright, I've got nowhere to go. Age before beauty and all of that." He laughed. He leaned in close, and in a conspiratorial tone he told me a joke. Then another. Then ANOTHER. He had me laughing so hard tears were forming on my eyes, and in that moment he reminded me so much of my Grandfather. He looked nothing like my Grandfather, but had the same essence, if you can understand that. The checker finished ringing them up, and as the older fellow left he winked and thanked me for having such a good sense of humor. I didn't say it, but mentally I thanked him for reminding me of my Grandfather in a way that didn't make want to cry. I hope that man is having a good evening tonight.

-Tenth

I'll play the Wild Rove.
 

Tenth

Tenth Is Tenth
Feel So Numb

I am tired today. I had grand plans of working on my mountain bike when I got home from work, but I know that's not going to happen. So why am I tired? Because Red and I went up to San Francisco last night, to the Palace of Fine Arts to see Henry Rollins do his spoken word thing. It was a hell of a show. Three hours. The seats were a little uncomfortable, but that's alright. It was worth it. After taking Red home (I had picked her up at here place directly from work) I got home at 1:00 AM. I took a quick shower and got into bed at 1:20 AM. I woke up a mere 5 hours later to go to work. I have a headache, and I'm just been dragging all day. It was so worth it.

-Tenth

No drama.
 
Top