can't get enough of this guy

I saw my first baby sloth video earlier this week.

And it's pretty much changed my life.

Sloths are officially one of my favorite animals.

So. Damned. Cute.

Okay, tabling sloths for the moment.

It's Friday evening and I'm at (you guessed it!) The Anchor. This week's been rough with Anchor visits this week: every single day that kid yelling "Hi" has been here. Blake knows how awful it is. And so does Ams, since she went to The Anchor with me one day this week. "God, he's so annoying." It's true. But I've developed a solution: earphones. Whenever he's here, I just strike up Itunes. Yesterday was Local Natives. Today the kid isn't here, maybe run over by a car or something (this is Covington), so I haven't had the need to listen to anything.

I hope I don't come across as heartless.

I don't wish him to be run over by a car or anything.

He's a cute kid, so long as he doesn't talk.

Blake and I went on a date last night: beer and food at Rock Bottom (Blake didn't finish his beer, he couldn't handle it) and caramel apple ciders from T.M. ("It's so nice having free coffee whenever I'm downtown, even if the place is closed." Being Asst. Store Manager has its privileges). We sipped our ciders on a romantic walk through the maze at Fountain Square, and we went into the basement of the Taft Theater (the Ball Room, they call it) for a wondrous solo show by Damien Jurado. His "Greatest Hits" tour (if there is such a thing): a collection of songs from Maraqopa as well as, at least, "Ohio" and "Sheets." Also, Damien is pretty hilarious. Mo was there with some of her friends, so she scuttled over beside me and we watched Jurado rock it out. The sound system was better than what we had at The Basement in Nashville, though Damien seemed to be irritated with it. Also, he said he loves playing in Ohio (a recurring theme with artists, I've found) because we Ohioans seem to take his music at a more personal level. "I write a song in the four walls of my bedroom," he said, "and it comes to Ohio and becomes meaningful." 

Tonight should be pretty great: Mo and I are getting dinner and then heading over to the Loth House for an evening hanging out with the Tazza Mia mates. Brandon and Sarah will definitely be there, maybe Jake, maybe Emily. It's 5:14 and I should probably be heading out of here (want to get in a quick shower before tonight's festivities), but I leave you with this (and, no, it's not related to sloths):

Economics is definitely not my thing.

I've been trying to wrap my head around mercantilism for the past couple days.

It's the economic thought lying behind Britain's unsavory treatment of her colonies.

I know the gist of it quite well, but I want to really know it so the pieces fall together.

That's the best part about history: putting together the puzzle.

My goal for this weekend: "come to terms" with mercantilism. 

This weekend's going to fly by.

Yeah, that was pretty anticlimactic. So, fine, here's a picture of not-your-ordinary sloth. A prehistoric sloth, to be exact, which sported a height three times that of a full-grown adult human. To put it to scale here (farthest on the right):

This begs the question,
"Why the hell is Sid so small in the movie Ice Age?!"

THE SLOTHS ARE COMING

11/7/12

smug bastard

Due to a mix-up at work, I had today off (trust me, don't ask; Blake can tell you why). I haven't had a day off in the middle of the week since I worked at Starbucks. Though there was that one time I threw my back out while lifting a little tub of dressing... Regardless, I've been sapping today for all its worth.

I stayed up till 2:30 AM last night!

I went to The Anchor this morning!

Amos and I did Dusmesh buffet for lunch, then played some MW3!

I went to The Anchor again!

And that's where I am now, with two more things on the agenda:

   (1) Hanging out with Brandy Rae Galloway!

   (2) Hanging out with Mo! And maybe watching Gattaca!

        (it's about genetics)

I'm sorry if all the exclamation marks come off as obnoxious!!!

Ams, Mo and I watched the election unfold last night. We turned on the space heater and bundled up in my bed and spread my laptop out on the pillow. State by state we watched the electoral college roll in its votes. Romney had the map covered with red, but his lack of attention to the swing states in the final days lost him the big ones, not least Ohio, where the race was neck in neck. By 11:30 Obama was declared the winner of the electoral college (though popular vote put Romney in the lead, though a full popular vote count gave Obama just under a three million lead). Come morning, of course, Facebook was ripe with all that silly banter, people moving to Canada, the world burning down, the usual. I'd like to think that if the world crumbles it won't be because of the American president but because of December 21, 2012. The Mayans seem to have their finger on a trigger of some sort...

Tomorrow should be excellent: I work 7:30-3:00, and then Blake, Andy, Ams, and I (and maybe Amos) are going to the Damien Jurado show at the Taft Theater. The set list for his previous shows on this tour looks phenomenal: the whole Maraqopa album, plus Sheets, Ohio, and Arkansas. And at least some of us will be getting dinner (and perhaps drinks) at Rock Bottom Brewery prior to the show. My little "information exchange" with Blake worked out quite well. 

election day '12

Sid the Sloth says,
"I am soooo ripped right now."

the 71st week

Clover, the Loth House's new addition

Monday. James & I opened, and after work I went to The Anchor to do some reading before gathering back at the house for the usual Monday Night shenanigans. We watched The Walking Dead, this episode focusing on Michonne, Andrea, and the reemergence of Merle and the introduction to The Governor. I have a feeling the two groups will meet soon, and it won't be the sort of meeting you like. John, Brandy & Blayne headed out, and the rest of us cooped up in Blake's room and watched the "horror" movie Wrong Turn. You know, 'cause Halloween's Wednesday. Hurricane Sandy's bearing down on the east coast at the moment. Manhattan's cut off and much of downtown New York City is flooded. Mass exoduses inland. It's crazy.

Tuesday. The temperature plummeted overnight and I found my car caked with ice come morning. Gah, I hope this winter isn't brutal. Another winter like the last one, which felt like a harsh autumn most of the time, wouldn't be bad. I worked 6:30-2:30 and went to The Anchor. Fusian Sushi finally opened next door to T.M., and I treated myself to an eel roll while watching "30 Rock." Mo came over for a while. She did homework and I watched a documentary on prehistoric reptiles predating the dinosaurs.  The night was so cold and rainy, I cranked up my space heater and put on pajamas by 8:00 and spent the rest of the evening indoors. 

Halloween. I didn't go in until 11:00, to do inventory with Brandon after the close, and so I slept in and then went to The Anchor to read about the various British campaigns of 1755 in the as-yet-undeclared French & American War. I dressed up as a Starbucks employee for work--wearing the required shirt and pants, though not shoes (because my only black shoes have holes in them), and I donned the classic green apron. My apron is with Carly or Jessica, or was close to a year ago; so Tiffany brought her husband's old apron for me to wear. There's a pic of it posted on Halloween. Brandon & I stayed late to do some detail cleaning, and then I picked up some Chipotle--two dollar burritos if you were in costume!--and made the cold, wet, dark drive home to find the house empty: Blakey at work and Andy had apparently spent the day moving his stuff out. Damn. The Claypole House withers, and I'll be there in its last days. We're going to have one more big-ass party before we move out. We have to, it'd be improper not to have one. I wanted to spend the evening watching "30 Rock," but our internet went out again (it's a recurring, and frustrating, theme, the kind of frustration that makes you curse). Ams came over after work, and we huddled in my room and talked for a while.

Thursday. I worked 7:30-3:00 doing F.P. Our salad bar cooler was tripped last night so I had to recreate the salad bar from scratch. Add onto this the food order not arriving until 10:30 and the usual craziness, and it was a frustrating day. I love being expected to both set up a salad bar in its entirety and run a shift, all while being short-staffed and facing obstacle after obstacle. It gets frustrating, indeed, but a bright spot to the day: last month's sales were the best in Tazza Mia history, all thanks to the fantastic team we've got at 600. After work I went to The Anchor and read up on the French & Indian War, and then I grabbed Wendy's for dinner and hiked over to the Loth House for an evening of video games and grilled chicken with John, Brandy, and Amos.

Friday. Sarah and I opened together, and Jake was sick so we were down a person, lunch was unusually busy, and I was so ready to get out, even if it was an hour later than usual. I forewent going to The Anchor to move all my stuff from upstairs into the "A Room" (first Amos had it, then Jessie had it for a bit, and then Amos had it again before giving it up to Ams who gave it up to Andy. And now I, Anthony, am in it). After a fiasco with the bed-frame (it's European, that's why I had trouble with it) and a solid hour or two I had my room essentially put together. Blake and I met up with Mo at The Anchor, and then we all headed back to the house to find Isaac half-drunk on the front porch. We let him in and an evening of vodka shots, kraken rum, and witches' brew spiced wine. Cook it in a cauldron and it's that much better. We watched Youtube videos about baby sloths and learned the gangnam style dance, which somehow led to me waddling around like a penguin with my eyes rolled up into the back of my head so that I looked possessed.

Saturday. Gas station coffee in the dreary early morning took the edge off from last night's antics, and Amos and I dined at Dusmesh and then returned to his place to play some MW3 and hang out with John. I spent the afternoon cleaning around the house and putting some finishing touches on the room. Blake and I went to The Anchor for a hot minute, and then Ams came over to the house and we watched "Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter." Mo and I went over to Brandon's loft on Walnut for an evening of Jameson Irish whiskey, la Harmonia hermosa, and some of Brandon's AMAZING "grandma-recipe" apple dumplings. Seriously: OMG.

Sunday. McDonald's for breakfast and a subsequent nap were to be had before Ams came over. We hung out for a good while, just catching up and watching Youtube videos. I went to The Anchor to do some reading, and then I went to the Loth House for an evening of Call of Duty, football, and Magic Hat beers. They got a new dog, Clover, a pit bull and boxer mutt, whose ears were cut off early to make her look menacing. End result: she looks damned cute. It's close to 11:30 now. I've showered, had my night cap cigarette, and I'm perched up in bed with the space heater going and a cup of chamomile tea bedside. I'm thinking next week will be good: the Damien Jurado show Thursday and (hopefully) the movie Lincoln sometime this weekend. 

Good night, World.

a 68 minute post

I'm sitting across from Blake at The Anchor. We're drinking coffee and on our computers, and I can't tear my eyes from his phoenix tattoo. The meaning behind it is that he had a childhood bird that died in a house fire. There's a kid behind us who won't stop saying "Hi!" And then people say Hi back and he gets excited and starts yelling, "Hi! Hi! Hi! HI!", and the people just keep saying Hi back and I'm wondering why they're encouraging this. 

Election Day is Tuesday.

It'll be interesting to see who wins the election.

Each day it seems Obama and Romney are neck & neck.

I think I'm going to watch it unfold Tuesday night.

Maybe order Dusmesh or something.

The skies are dark and murky, scattered rains that fall with little pace. The grass withers and the trees stand naked, the last leaves quivering and fragile, a hare's breath to break them. Cold November Rains. I think that'd be a good book title. Hmm, what American Revolution battles were fought in November? There's the fall of Fort Washington during the battle of New York and Tarleton's victory against the Carolina partisans in the Battle of Blackstock Farm. 

Banastre Tarleton at Cowpens (not Blackstock's Farm)

The kid's still saying Hi.

Some people are laughing.

I don't know why, it's not really that funny.

And his parents seem to think this is socially acceptable?

Andy moved out this week, and Blake and I only have a month or two before we pack up and ship out. We're looking at a couple places in Norwood. The house is definitely quieter now, and I spend most evenings alone (since Blake works). I don't mind it: I enjoy quiet evenings by the space heater, sipping hot tea and reading early American colonial history. It's just that those days of Summer 2011 are so far gone. Those were amazing days with a house full of people: Rob & Mandy, Blake, Amos, me and Ams. And a constant train of people in and out, most notably John and Brandy, Isaac, and Andy (all of whom I still talk to). Rob & Mandy are in Portland, Tony & Jessie are in Illinois, Amos is in Over the Rhine and Ams is with Chris & Sarah and Andy's back home... I miss those House Days, the crazy parties we'd have, the constant antics. I was a different person back then, in so many ways. But we're all in a constant state of flux, myself most of all it seems.

The waitress, Linda, just came by and refilled our coffee.

I know many of the waitresses by name.

I'm friends with one of them on Facebook.

"Everyone who works here looks like they've had such hard lives," Blake quipped.

Hi. Hi. Hi. Hot damn, kid.

I've been lost in history as of late. I've been going over colonial American history, paying special attention to the native American role in the development of North America. It's fascinating, it really is. I may start throwing together some essays on various subjects. It's a facet of writing that really serves to hammer in the information. When you're forced to regurgitate what you've been reading, things make a lot more sense, and you're able to see the interconnections of various events. I've been looking into getting my Master's degree in History, the thing is figuring out how that's any more practical of just walking around with a B.S. in Biblical Studies. I've got a couple universities of interest, I'm going to call a couple next week to get some questions answered. The main question, of course: "How can I get a better job with this degree?"

Sloths are officially one of my favorite animals.

And baby pandas, especially when they're going down slides.

Oh, and monkeys who ride baby pigs.

But the most bad-ass of all is the bald eagle.

Videos to come. 

Blake & I are going to the Damien Jurado show at Taft Theater this week. Thursday evening. I'm pretty stoked about it. I'll probably go downtown early, grab dinner at Rock Bottom, some coffee from T.M. (they'll be closed, but that's never stopped me before), and then make our way to the Theater. Or something like that. Or none of that. Really, I should talk to Blake about it and hammer out the details. I could do that now, he's sitting across from me... Maybe in the car? I'll forget. 

Blake, if I've forgotten to ask, what do you think of that idea?

I have Rock Bottom gift cards. 

And I could pay tip and cover some of your food.

Let me know.

K bye.

a new month dawns

"You know what's crazy?" Tiffany said. "Thanksgiving is only three weeks away."
Yeah. That's pretty crazy.

Hurricane Sandy's beaten the East Coast to death. I looked at pictures of the destruction today. It's unimaginable. New York City thought itself immune to these weather freak-shows, but the drowning of Manhattan seems to have put an end to such thinking. With the storm over, and the cold seeping in, Romney and Obama have resumed their antics, going at it with renewed vigor. Election Day is less than a week away. 

Today I wondered what it'd be like if there were another American Civil War.

Where would the new battles be fought? How would they be fought?

It's an interesting story idea. Not one I wish to write.

But I damned well hope someone will. 

Life has been complicated as of late. There are lots of things to report, but I'm so tentative to do so. I used to be public about everything on this blog, but that's changing. Even the weekly recaps leave a lot out. Some things are just better kept private, or at least concealed only to those directly involved. All this to say I find myself conflicted as to what to do in at least one more area of life (not knowing what to do seems to be a recurrent theme in this koala life of mine). I'm praying for wisdom and trying not to let clouded thinking affect my judgments.

Lately I've been getting lost in history. When I was in high school I owned so many history books, but I got rid of them at 1/2 Price because I believed that to be a good Christian I could only read theology. Such legalistic thinking has been, and may continue to be, the Death of Me. My foolish antics thus deprived myself of a vast library that I wish I could recollect. But I've got more books on those subjects, different ones I haven't yet read, and I've been slowly plowing through them. I've been studying, as of late, the French and Indian War. It's fascinating, it really is, part of the first truly world war (and launched largely by Washington's own misfortunes). It's nice to be getting back into history, the stories, the events, the way history echoes into the current day. Everything can be relevant, in some way, shape, or form; and discovering the relevant of cryptic, half-buried events only makes the studying that more exciting. 

Yes, I just called studying exciting.

I miss school, and hope to remedy that soon.