leap year!

Aguirus, a mutated ankylosaur and the second
Kaiju (Japanese monster) to appear after Godzilla.

The story goes like this: our calendars have 365 days in them, but it takes more than 365 days for the sun to orbit around the earth (whoops, went all pre-Copernicus there; let's flip that). On average it takes the earth about 365.25 days to make a complete orbit. Those extra quarter days tack on, and given enough time without any intervention, we'd be having winter in the summer and summer in the winter. Our seasons would be all messed up. So we of the Gregorian Calendar add an extra day about every four years. I say "about" because it actually takes a little less than 365.25 days for the earth to orbit the sun, and so down the line there are little tweaks of this Leap Year business to keep things on track. Taking all this into account, the average year will have 365 days, 5 hours, 49 minutes, and 12 seconds (according, of course, to Wikipedia). 

Blake and I smoked out on the porch today, enjoying the spring-like weather that's become oddly commonplace this winter, and I suggested that instead of having a leap day every four years, every four years we should have a global four-day "re:calibration party". It'd be a sort of Jubilee, only the secular and Copernican version. Oh, and regarding the picture: this is the only interesting thing a Google Earth search of "Leap Year" brought up. The other choice was a movie poster featuring Matthew Goode and Amy Adams, and Kaiju are just cool. I used to have them all as figurines when I was a kid, but I couldn't tell you anything more about the Japanese franchise (but I do know how it took a turn for the worse with a jet-pack and a certain Mr. F some time ago). 

a preamble (of sorts)

Back-to-back weekly recaps? Really, I'm ashamed.
I've been trying my best to update every day or two.
And as you can see, my best isn't that great.

There's been a lot going in my life, or at least a lot going on inside me. I've been rethinking a lot of things, been putting the spotlight to the darker corners of my mind. I've had to be honest with myself about a lot of stuff lately, and that's been both scary and invigorating at the same time. It's a strange concoction, delivering a punch somewhere between euphoria and nausea. I haven't really talked to a lot of people about these things, have been playing it close to the chest (and, no, I'm not "coming out of the closet"). I've learned that it's best not to share everything, and I've been trying my hardest to employ such wisdom. These things that have been keeping me up at night, these things that have been cluttering my mind and pricking at my heart, are integral to my life at the moment and have the power of altering its course in ways I don't dare speculate. With all that said, I'll be throwing up some posts regarding "the drama" sometime soon eventually. I'll write the first post this weekend, and start publishing them this week. That's the game-plan, but we'll see how things turn out. 

the 35th week

President's Day. Because we were superbly slow during work, I shut down everything early and got a jump-start on my day (which is to say I took my nap forty minutes early; Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are my nap days, and there's concrete logic behind that decision; perhaps another time?). Amos closed the store at 4:30 (an hour early), and he was pissed when he got home, because not only was I sleeping, but so was everyone else: Blake, Ams, and Andy, all of us curled up sleeping in our beds at 5:30 P.M. "This is bullshit!" he shouted, rousing everyone awake to begin the night. Brandy and John came over, and Blake made pasta, we watched The Walking Dead (the usual Monday occurrence), and we closed off the night playing Black Ops (Brandy's cool, 'cause she's a girl who likes shooting games). 

Tuesday. Amos and I went to The Anchor before closing the store. We got out late, it was a frustrating day. These days, they're becoming more common. I've slumped into a "blue mood", if you will. Really, it's just sadness. 'Bout what? Lots of things, really, though most are existential rather than situational; i.e., nothing super "bad" has happened, per se, but again the weight of the world--its clueless chaos, its senseless barbarism, the great depths of the Unknown, the Uncertainty, the dark nature of epistemology. The world grows darker, and I fear my heart treads softly behind. All during work I was in a foul mood, mostly sadness interspersed with bits of frustration and anger thrown in here-&-there; it was one of those days where everything gets under you skin, but it's getting under your skin not by its own virtue but because you're already stuck in that icky place. When we left work I felt a bit better, but though the shadows were drawn, I know they'll lengthen again. "Such is life." Or so I'm told; I'm only (hopefully) 1/3 through it. 

Wednesday. Isaac and I left work at the same time, walking downtown to our cars and smoking cigarettes and drinking traditional cappuccinos. On his way into work, Amos saw a hobo named Randy fall off his bike and hurt himself, so he called 911. "The dude was just lying there on Glenway in shock." The spurts of "the blues" continued, this time focused on Jessica and Carly, and what it was like to hang out with them, and how I really grew to care for them, and how--one day--it all just ended. I attached a lot of meaning to those friendships, and though we were hanging out for only about 3-4 months (and it's been 3 times that since), I still think about them often. Mostly I think about Carly (which would've surprised me not nine months ago, seeing as I was wine-drunk infatuated with Jessica). I miss Cars a lot, and I drowned my sorrow with "Explosions in the Sky" and took my scheduled nap till 6:00. Amos, Andy and I spent the evening playing video games and zoning out: it's nice to drown out the noises of the world with a ballistic knife in one hand and a tomahawk in the other. "Apache class."

Thursday. I did some writing at The Anchor before a swift and solid close. Rhino apparently moved to Texas, so Bob's been roasting for the last couple days as we try to figure out just what the hell to do. Our roasters keep bailing on us! Back home Amos, Andy and I played video games, and I spent most of the evening hanging out with Ams. She read through Act III and likes it like she liked Act I (of my zombie story, of all things). That's certainly good news. 

Friday. After work Blake, Ams and I kicked off the weekend by hanging out and then taking--you guessed it--our respective naps. Blake's was so good that he just didn't get up. Amos, Andy and I spent the evening watching TV and hanging out, and C. Isaac came over after a wearying day. It started raining ice so he decided to spend the night, and a good thing, too: he'd had more than a few beers, and couple this with a long-ass workday, and the end end result is a lanky, tattoo-scarred, shaggy-bearded fellow sprawled on your sofa. If that's what you're into, get over to the Claypole House stat. "Stat means NOW!" Cat told me today after work that she's quitting Tazza Mia; she broke the news to Bob, who didn't know what to say. And now with Rhino gone and Cat out the door, the landscape at the Tazz is changing, and it'll be interesting to see how the next month or two unfolds.

Saturday. I hit up The Anchor before grabbing Dusmesh with Andy. We hung out with Blake for a while when we got back, and then I took a short nap--a "quickie", if you will--and then ran to Kroger for snacks (all because of a sweet-toothed dream). Ginger snaps, iced molasses cookies, peanut butter crunchy granola bars, and pretzel twists. The last item didn't make it through to the next day, and none lasted past Sunday. You'll have that in a communal house like this, a good price to pay. Isaac came by, and he, Blake and Andy went to the 1215 Wine Bar that's now open (and doing super well, from what I've gathered). Amos worked there all morning, so we just played video games in the living room. Cat broke the news to him today; she's going to recommend him for the S.M. position. I hope and pray he gets it, and agree with his game-plan if he doesn't. Most everyone was in bed by 11:00, but I stayed up late hanging out with Ams, and around midnight T.J. came over after playing a show, and we drank some beers and laughed our asses off. 

Sunday. I woke to find Blake smoking hookah--"Sex on the beach!"--and I joined him, and then we got The Anchor for breakfast and talked about the millennia-old wrestling match between theism and atheism and how the conflict may never end because it's worldview pitted against worldview, and unverifiable assumptions on either side don't easily die. I spent most of the day reading, but here are gathered "adventures" (if you can call them that): Ams and I got lunch at Rock Bottom, and most of it was comped by the manager, and I got to keep my recent $25 which I intended to use today. Brandy came over for a while, and so did the soon-to-be-wed Jeff. I talked to Mandy K. for a while. It was good, lots of catching up and lots of laughter. 

the 34th week

Introducing to the hot mess that is Claypole Avenue:
Andy Waugh!

Monday. I ran late to work, thanks to being stuck behind a garbage truck on our narrow street for a solid ten-fifteen minutes. When I got out of work I had a flat tire, but the evening got better: Brandy came over, and we watched The Walking Dead and played Black Ops, and after she left Amos, Blake and I watched Super Troopers till we were wading in the night.

Valentine's Day. Anna's back to working a few days a week (and maybe even more, we'll see!), so I didn't have to go in at 7:30. I slept in and went to The Anchor for breakfast. They commented on having not seen me for quite some time, and I told them I'd been working nothing but food prep shifts for the past two months. It really cut into my pre-work Anchor rendezvous, because there's no way I'm getting up at 5:00 A.M. to do it. Amos and I got out at a decent time, and we spent the evening hanging out in the Dungeon, and Ams came home from work and Josh came over, and we all hung out in Ams' room till about midnight. Ballin' V-Day.

Wednesday. Cold and rainy for most of the day. Work went well, and I went to the library downtown and got a couple books I've been itching to read, books by philosophers and scientists such as Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Dan Dennett, and Christopher Harris. Lord of the Rings is on hold for more pressing matters. Ams was sick all day, some sort of viral bug, and I made a couple trips to the store to get her bananas, Gatorade ("Not orange, Anth. Not orange."), crackers, and applesauce: the works. She's my sister, so it's no bother. Amos and I hung out for most of the evening, and Andy joined us. They played Magic and I started reading Dawkins' "The God Delusion." Interesting, to say the least.

Thursday. I was scheduled to close, but Anna couldn't work today so I was shifted back to food prep. I trained the new guy Michael on most of the salad bar tear-down (I'm so awesome, aren't I?), and then I found Isaac passed out on our sofa when I got home. I quickly followed suit, and after my nap I went to hang out with Gabe and Emily for a bit in Northside, and then when I got back home Amos and I played Black Ops, and then I migrated to Ams' room to watch "90210" with her and Josh. Andy went to bed early, and Amos and I hung out for a while in the Dungeon before bedtime rolled around.

Friday. I enjoyed The Anchor before closing shop with Amos. Michael--the new guy--was a 'No Call, No Show.' And then Anna left early, so it was pretty crazy. Somehow we busted our asses off and got out by 6:00. We went to see Gabe and Emily for a bit at their place, and they begged us to come see their show. Not really begged, just made it clear they wanted us to come. Emily's in a band with three other girls, they're called "The Apricots," and they're playing in Rabbit Hash later this month. Cat and I--and hopefully some other people--are probably going to go. I took Amos to a friend's, and Brandy came over when I got home. She's staying at the house all weekend since she has to work (usually she goes to Bracken County); she'll be sleeping in Blake's bed. Blake, sadly, is in Bowling Green for the weekend. Brandy's awesome because she loves playing shoot-'em-up video-games, and we played Black Ops downstairs until Amos got home, at which point we played Black Ops for a solid several hours while smoking mint hookah spiked with champagne. Before bed I hung out with Ams for a while: she's all healed up!

Saturday. I went to The Anchor to meet up with Isaac, but he slept through our scheduled breakfast. No big deal: I had a book handy. Andy and I went to lunch at Dusmesh, and he went to work at Carew and I headed home and took one of those 'almost-a-regular-occurrence' 'something-furious' Indian naps. I woke groggy and ran to the bank, and I went downtown to see Andy & Ashley, and they hooked me up with an iced soy latte. It made me feel much better, but the drive back was irritating: for some reason downtown's flooded with people. It looked like downtown Manhattan. Cincinnati's the perfect city because it's never crowded, perfect for an awkward "socialite" such as myself. Amos and Brandy went to BW3s to watch the game, and I decided to stay home and do some writing. When Andy came back from work we swapped music, and when Brandy & Amos got back from watching the game, we replayed Friday night: Black Ops late into the night. We had two Joshes at the houses come 1:00 A.M., lots of drinking and shouting, and a "fight" that blew up when two people started wrestling. I played only one round of "Circle of Death" before stepping out, but by the third Amos had puked and Andy was passed out, and that wasn't even before the "fight." We smoked a bunch of cigarettes on the porch, and I called it a night super early (around 2:00 A.M.).

Sunday. I woke to a quiet house, people nursing their hangovers. I went to The Anchor and drank coffee and read for a while. I was going to go to Crossroads with Brandy & Amos, but I overshot my time at The Anchor with my nose in a book. The afternoon was spent writing: (a) updating my blog and (b) working on The Procyon Strain: Book One. I finished the last Act, just need Ams to look through it for me before revising it for the last time. Amos and Brandy returned, and we hung out in Blake's room before Brandy headed back home. Amos, Andy and I played video-games and I had leftover pizza for dinner. Amos and I watched a show on Conan O'Brien, and when Blake returned from Bowling Green, we watched Arrested Development. 

the new room

The canvas rhino on the wall really ties the room together.

"Here's my new room, Dear Reader! Drink it in!"

May it be the harbinger of joy and the spawn-point of warm memories.

on writing (V)

It's been close to two months since any "writing updates." Things have been busy and chaotic, and I've been feeling quite uninspired in regards to zombies as of late. One might begin fearing that I'm outgrowing them, but rest assured, that's certainly not the case. Honestly my mind has been elsewhere as of late, getting wrapped up in things too high and lofty for a foolish and bumbling creature like me. But sometimes there are more pressing concerns than writing about zombies, no matter how much I may like doing so, and these other pressing concerns (which will be cropping up on this blog soon) deserve my energies far more than a little fictional self-indulgence. Nevertheless, I have been working on my zombie serial in spurts here-&-there, and because I missed church with Brandy and Amos this morning, I had time to finish Act III. 

In regards to Act III, I'm decently content with it as a whole. I feel much better about it than I did with Act II, and I think many of the strengths of Act I--which, in my opinion, vaults it above Act II--are present in Act III. While Act II did have some "action," most of it was the necessary setting-up for a serial novel of this magnitude. With the foundation set, in Act III I launched into the main character's first real zombie encounter, and it's some pretty intense stuff. I'm going to *hopefully* have Ams read over it soon, giving me her criticisms and advice, and then I'll do for Act III what I did with the first two acts: revise, revise, revise. Once Act III is complete, I'm just a few steps from finishing the first book. It'll be exciting when that time comes, and I'm sure I'll find an apt way to celebrate (and if I can't, Andy is always good with such figuring out how to celebrate random and inconsequential things). Now, in regards to writing, here's an email I received not five minutes ago:

Hello Anthony. I read 36 Hours and it was the most gripping book I have read. It knocks the socks off Stephen King and other famous horror writers. George A. Romero would have a field day turning this book into a film.

Receiving these emails are always encouraging, especially when I'm feeling that my writing is quite sub-par. I remember going through 36 Hours and revising it top-to-bottom, wondering if there was really any point to it, thinking that it may be too late to draw from the wreckage of the original something worth acknowledging. I've gotten many emails from  people who have read 36 Hours: The 2nd Edition, and the consensus seems to be the same: people are blown. ("Forgot to say away again...") He goes on to say:

The only part I found confusing was in the chapter '10 AM'. Mark, Austin and Hannah are going down the subway and Mark gets shot by a soldier and dies. In the next chapter, '11 AM', he is still alive. No worries, it doesn't detract from the fact its one of my top all time great books. - Trevor from the United Kingdom

Regarding the mistake: damn it. 
I always do my best to find every single one before going public.
Sometimes you miss stuff. This is why I have Ams read my stuff now.

those damn lemon-stealing whores!

My buddy (and housemate) Andy Waugh sent me this video off Youtube. It's the intro to some porn video, but don't worry: there's no porn in it. Why am I putting it up here? Only because it's hilarious, and I want to try and break the somber mood set by the last two posts. I'll be sure to be quoting this video for quite some time.

on purpose

Any purpose that we embrace mustn't pull us from actual life, because then our purpose becomes, at best, some maneuver to unplug ourselves from the machine; or, at worst, it becomes nothing but our own brand of heroine, something we swallow to try and make sense of a world that, half the time, makes no sense. Some time ago I went to my pal Brandon's loft in northern Cincinnati, and we listened to The Avett Brothers and talked 'bout what we want out of life, our goals and how we're getting there. He's got everything mapped out while I have nothing figured out. It's not that I don't have "hopes & dreams" (God knows I do; and you, my faithful blog reader, know that, too); it's that I question both the legitimacy of these dreams ("Are they even possible, even reachable? Are they worth fighting for, worth investing in, worth hoping for? Or are these hopes and dreams my own form of T.H.C., pulling me from the darkness of our world into a light fabricated in my own mind?") as well as the pursuit of these dreams ("If they're unreachable, why pursue them? If they're uncertain, is it wise to devote yourself to them?"). And as for goals, well, I've learned that life hardly ever works out the way you want it to (or even expect it to), and despite all your striving and struggling, all can be lost in a heartbeat. The uncertainty, the unknowing, the weight of the world strangling our little ambitions and flimsy hopes... Sometime's it's difficult to bear.

When it comes back to purpose (as it often does for us westerners saturated with existential ideals), despite the craving I have for it, I can't easily embrace one. Any purpose embraced should, I think, fit these criterion:

1) It must be in accordance with the nature of perceived reality. 

2) It must be embraced for *mostly* pure motives. 

3) It must transcend the Self and be outward-focused, i.e. on something bigger than just me and my life.  

4) Because the destination is never certain, the journey must be as valuable, if not more-so, than the intended and hoped-for destination.

5) Its pursuit and practice must cultivate my humanity rather than detract from it. 

6) It must be cemented in real life, not detached from it or in a vacuum.

I tend not to be too legalistic, but with this, I am: purpose isn't a small thing. It's something that, if we let it, will change and mold our lives, sometimes for the better and often for the worse. The power that lies in purpose (or, at least, the power we give it), and the subsequent power that lies within its pursuit, renders any nonchalant attitude towards it a chief folly. Purpose has the power to grant life or ruin it, the power to turn us into angels or shape us into demons. It's not something to be taken lightly, if it's something at all: in the end, there could very well be no purpose except that which we grant ourselves. Ecclesiastes, the most realistic (albeit sobering) book of the bible tells us what to do with our lives, gives us our purpose: "Enjoy life the best you can and honor God in it." Maybe anything we add to this is just frill & flare?

cogs in the machine

When I went to Wisconsin in October of last year, I was talking to a nice lady who was asking all about life in Cincinnati. I gave her the scoop, how I went to college and graduated and lived at home for a while doing coffee and then moved down to Cincinnati to do coffee at a different place. 

I really liked her because she didn't ask what everyone else asks: "Why aren't you doing ministry?"

She said I seemed joyful and content doing what I was doing, and that's what matters, but I'm quite certain that the "joyfulness" and "contentment" I had was due to something entirely different. I'm not sure if I'm either of those things, at least consistently, but it was refreshing to see that not everyone buys into the idea that our worth is dependent upon our degrees, the prestige of our careers, or the figures on our bank accounts. 

Amos and I were talking just the other day 'bout where our lives are going. Basically just a bunch of fools talking about things way over their heads, daring to estimate what our lives will look like ten years down the road. I've generally stopped doing such guesswork, because not one of my guesses about what my life would like  at age 25 came true. I wagered I'd be married, maybe have a kid, working at a small church in a small town. It didn't work out that way, and I can't be mad about it: I was dumb enough in the first place to even try and decipher the future. Amos observed, "I'm not special, I'm not unique, I'm just a cog in the machine like everyone else." He's right: that's all Amos is. And that's all I am, and that's all you are. We're told we're special, that we have some sort of purpose transcending the day-to-day grind of real life, that we're somehow a cut above the rest. I'm sorry, but that's not true. In the telescopic scheme of things, we're nobodies. Flowers quickly fading, numbers on a quickly-yellowing sheet, and when we die, we're soon forgotten as the sun rises and sets in its unbroken and unsympathetic rhythm. 

an acrostic

Acid rain
Makes a monkey's
Ass warm and milky, with
Notes of
Dandelion and
Alfalfa.


Hearing a songbird
Over the river and
On the bridge makes
Summer warm in my toes.

P.S. I'm sorry this is all I have for you, Amanda Hoos! I'm at The Anchor and meeting Isaac, but after Dusmesh I will be uploading a handful of posts if all goes according to plan!

happy V.D. Day!

Best stuffed animals EVER. Days like this I wish I had a good-humored girlfriend so I could get her one of these on Valentine's Day and then exclaim, "Hey, I gave you Chlamydia on Valentine's Day!" 

the 33rd week

Whoa, we got a couple bad-asses here!

I was going to stop doing these "weekly recaps" after last week's, but I'm going to keep it going, because (a) I started these posts at the beginning of my move down to Cincinnati and might as well just end them when I move somewhere else, and (b) it's Blake's prime method for finding out all the hip and hop happening when he's away working his grueling 12-hours in the dead of night. I'm toying with different ways to change things up so it's not so static each time, but between Then & Now I'm going to stick with what we know.

Monday. One of the shop's closers called off sicks, so the lunch rush was pretty crazy. After work Blake, Isaac and I took a crowbar, two hammers, and a hacksaw to an decrepit big-screen TV gathering moss in the backyard. Isaac uncoiled the copper wiring from the projector, and then decorated the coffee maker so that it had curls of copper hair. We took the projector's lenses and googled our eyes in them (see two posts below). Brandy and John came over, and Amos came home from work and Ams came home from Dayton, and we all hung out in Blake's new room, and Blake made us some amazing buffalo-ranch chip dip. 

Tuesday. Ams and I booked it up to IKEA after work. It was my first time, and I think I'll always remember it. We ate dinner with Mom and Dad at the little mezzanine restaurant at the top, and then we shopped: Mom bought me a new bed (shout-out to her for a much appreciated and undeserved gift): it's full-size, an upgrade from the twin, with a European-style foam mattress laid over slats on a minimalist bed-frame. It's stiff at first, almost like you're lying on a wooden palate, but then it molds around you and you feel all snuggled up. And  broke it in with a good, old-fashioned, classic water spill. 

Wednesday. HUMP DAY! And that's the most excited I'll ever be for a Wednesday. Drink it in! The nice days have come to an (apparent) close: I woke to snow, and it kept snowing all morning without any accumulation. After work I did a bit of writing and visited Gabe in Northside before going back to work at 6:00 for a mandatory all-store meeting (so there were... counting heads... a mere six of us there). Cat threw together a cleaning/catch-up meeting with a pop quiz, pizza from Rock Bottom, and "meeting" stuff. Anna's is back next week but may be gone after that; who knows? Apparently I'm the only reliable food prep person? We'll see what happens. Emily and I cleaned behind the bar, and when Amos and I got home we hung out with Andy, who fully moved his stuff in (!!!). Before bed I hung out with Ams for a bit, and we shared music files with one another, and then I called Mandy K. and talked to her for a bit, and that was good, per usual.

Thursday. Work was a decent hop, minus the cracked-out homeless man harassing me for money and cigarettes while I was on break. I did some writing back home and took a meager nap. Amos, Andy and I played video games in the basement for a while. Everyone stayed indoors; we even cut out smoke breaks. It was cold, windy, rainy. Miserable. Winter's starting to feel like winter, and welcome it I most certainly do not.

Friday. Snow started falling around noon and kept falling throughout the day with no accumulation. I ran some errands after work--finally got a space heater!*--and weaseled in a nap before Tyler arrived. Mom and Dad stopped by on their way down to Lexington, and Ams, Tyler and I joined them for dinner at The Anchor. The service was slow--I honestly don't like going there most evenings because of that one reason--but the food was fantastic. Both Mom and Dad loved it, and I wasn't surprised: it's The Anchor! They were taking Skyler to Lexington with them, and so to relieve their burden--and to enliven my weekend--I took her off their hands. Mom and Dad headed south, and I made up Sky's bed and she hung out upstairs with Tyler, Blake, Amos, Ams and me. Tyler made late-night pancakes, and Andy came home later after an evening of R.P.G. at C.C.U.** down the street, and we listened to The National and then everyone passed out around 2 A.M. 

Saturday. Tyler ducked out early as he does sometimes, and Andy and I grabbed Dusmesh for lunch. The rest of the day was spent in Dayton: I gathered Sky's things, threw her in the passenger's seat, and took her home and spent the night. The evening's activities included much writing, listening to some of Dad's records on his scratch-disk (but it's digital, so it's kinda like a spin-disk; so it's a scratch-&-spinner), and not one but two trips to the Centerville Starbucks for their iced soy "caramel macchiatos" (there's just something about their soy milk, I think). Science documentaries filled the rest of the night, and I watched two documentaries on quantum physics. It's some interesting stuff, to say the least.

Sunday. I headed back down to Cincinnati in time to grab Rock Bottom for lunch with Ams and Josh. The $25 gift cards the brewers gave us repeatedly come in handy. I had the new espresso I.P.A. Rob would love it. The vast majority of my Sunday was spent hanging out with the roommates. Isaac came over and we watched "Pan's Labyrinth". Such a great, albeit disturbing, movie.

start a war

The National is a band Blake introduced me to when I first moved into the Claypole House, and it's a band I haven't stopped listening to. One will frequently find them playing in the Tazza Mia backroom. The song above is one of my favorites; it's called "Start A War", and the video's a clip from a documentary on the band called "A Skin, A Night." 

monday afternoon shenanigans

the 32nd week

Sunrise in Oregon. Another photo by Amanda Hoos. Edited by a blind idiot.
Also, this is how a ring-wraith might behold the sunrise.

We lost Amanda Hoos this past week.

Losing one Hoos is hard enough; losing two is just downright cruel.

Okay, here goes the not-so-great week (the 2nd in a row!):

Monday. A beautiful, non-January day in the high fifties! We launched a new menu and new (higher) prices on just about everything. People were much more vocal about their dislike of the latter than their enjoyment of the former (which includes a new vegetarian hummus sandwich that is off-the-hook). I think the transition will be smooth and over quickly; when I was at Starbucks we raised our prices more than once, and each time there was a day or two where people swore never to come back and when they were ranting and raving, and then by the next week, everyone was coming back and happy again. People need their coffee, and we have damned good coffee, and they'll pay premium prices for premium coffee. After work I did some writing and hung out with my peeps upstairs. Brandy came over for a good while, and I called it a night early, crawling into bed and reading J.R.R. Tolkien.

Tuesday. Another beautiful day. After work I went to Mount Echo for a bit with the sunroof rolled down, and I watched the city from high far away. It could almost be spring if it weren't for the gray skies; but in 65 degree temps, who's going to complain about mere cloud cover? Josh came over and Mandy made spaghetti, Ams made nachos, and he made cookies. Amos and I watched the first "Lord of the Rings" movies, the long-ass extended edition, and Mandy and Ams joined us towards the end. 

Wednesday. Another BEAUTIFUL day: high sixties, sunny, birds singing. We opened the house's windows and I drove home from work with the sunroof rolled down yet again (after a cigarette pow-wow with Isaac, Rhino, and Amos by the 600 Vine fountain). Mandy and I went to Kroger and turned the dining room into a study, and in an old chest in the basement that belonged to her sister we found a pair of what appear to be eyeballs in fermaldehyde. They could also be testicles, but my bet's on eyes what with the whole "optical nerve" thing. The house quickly filled with people eager to see Mandy as her time here dwindled: first B. Shields, then Andy, then Isaac, then Amos after his close. Mandy made spaghetti (round two!), and we all hung out in the revamped dining room-turned-study and talked about how great it is to have such great friends, and how much we'll miss one another. Despite our conflicts and fights, the friendship and comfort of being surrounded by people you love and who love you definitely makes the statement "Life is best shared" as authentic as it gets. People thinned out, and Amos and I "shot up"--i.e. Call of Duty, not heroin--and before bed I lit a candle and started reading Tolkien's The Twin Towers. No, wait. The TWO Towers. Damn. I always do that, at least since 9/11. 

Mandy's Last Day [sad-face]. After work, Mandy, Gambill, Ams and I went to Roh's Street Cafe for coffee, and that turned into an adventure of sorts: Mandy first knowingly illegally parked in front of a police car, and when she realized that wasn't her best idea (a while after the fact), she fixed the problem by parking in front of a fire hydrant. Nailed it like cat food. Blake gave his goodbyes before heading off to work, and Andy came by to offer his own farewell. Nick arrived, and Mandy and Ams joined him for pizza at... well, dunno how to say it, maybe Atavola? James from the Tazz in my earlier days works there. Amos came home, and Isaac came by to say goodbye; in the meantime we talked about D&D, and the basic story sounds cool, and Isaac recommended I read a series by R.A. Salvatore. I may do that (sometime). Isaac left after he said bye to Mandy, and after pizza Nick and Mandy loaded up her car for their 40-hour drive west. Jessica B. came by to say bye, and so did Matt (Gambill's brother). The time came and we said our goodbyes, and we stood on the porch and watched them leave. Both Mandy and Ams were in tears--being bffs and girls and all--and after Mandy was gone, Ams, Amos and I quietly hung out cloistered in Ams' room, without many words but with too many thoughts. Amos and I had a mellow and sorrowful smoke outside, and we all we went to bed. The silence, no one walking through my room, it unnerved me. I want that back.

Friday. Work was a decent hop, and when I came home Blake was all moved into Rob and Mandy's old room. He moved in earlier since his friend Billy came into town tonight. I shrugged my shoulders and decided to move upstairs, too. It only took me 2 1/2 hours to totally tear down the walk-through room and reassemble everything upstairs (including wall decor). Blake, Amos and I hung out for a while listening to Bill Callahan (a.k.a. Smog). Amos and I had Wendy's for dinner. When Ams came home from work, I showed her my room, and she really likes it. Nice and cozy. "Your koala cave," she said. Last I heard from Mandy, she was fighting a blizzard somewhere in Nebraska or Colorado, not really sure which. She sent me a picture and it looked awful. 

Saturday. I woke around 9:00 and took a lot of change to the Coin Star at Kroger: made about $50. I spent the majority of the day writing--minus Indian with T.J., which just didn't taste as good without Rob and Mandy--and then I made considerable progress in my zombie serial. Mandy, Nick and Sarah arrived in Portland around 3-4:00 our time. So thankful the drive was safe. Tonight was a quiet night, just the housemates hanging out, no one really coming or going. Ams and I hung out for my room for a long while, remembering what it was like just a week ago when Rob and Mandy were here. The simple and quiet things no one ever notices, the little quirks and curiosities in our personalities, the way you knew who was coming just by the sound of their feet on the stairs. In a sense it doesn't feel like they're actually gone; it's more like they're on a long holiday, and we're expecting them to come back soon. But they're not and they won't, and the weight of that lies heavy on our hearts.

Sunday. Woke with a splitting headache and went back to bed. The wind, rain, and fog from yesterday has been replaced by yet another spring-like day. I had coffee at The Anchor while doing some reading. Blake, Billy and Ams went to Rock Bottom, but I went to Gabe and Emily's for a bit yesterday and foolishly left my wallet there, which had my $25 gift card in a sleeve, and so I couldn't go. Ams went to Dayton and Blake, Billy and Amos went to a super bowl party. Isaac and Josh (not Ams' Josh; let me repeat, NOT Ams' Josh) came over, and instead of watching the game we ate pizza and played video games in the dungeon. Josh went home and Isaac passed out downstairs after a good number of beers. I clambered into bed and read some Tolkien, talked to the Wisconsinite, and went to bed. 

updater? I barely even KNOW her!*

Wow. It's been a hot minute since I've posted on here. 

Things have been crazy lately, and here's four reasons why:

1) Rob and Mandy are gone, and consequently we've all been having to adjust to only 4 roommates rather than six. Andy's slated to move in soon (not sure when, but we'll see what happens), but in the meantime we've been getting the feeling that this house is just too big for four people. In reality, it's the perfect size for four people; but we're all so used to never being alone at the house--not necessarily interacting with someone, but at least having another person in there somewhere--that the long periods of having the whole house to yourself just make the loneliness greater and the house emptier. All this to say, this has put me in a kinda "funk" mood lately where I don't really have the energy to do much (even if I had the time). Call it a bout of depression, if you will, or even just "having the blues" (I prefer the latter), but it's not conducive to me being a go-get'er.

2) With Andy moving in soon, Blake and I moved into our new rooms earlier than expected (by only 'bout a day). Last Friday Blake moved all his stuff out of his room into their room, and I moved all my stuff into his (old) room. It's nice not to have the walk-through room (a better title would be "glorified hallway," as Amos eloquently observed): I like the privacy, having my own space, not having my "alone time" constantly interrupted by a barrage of people treading in and out. The wording makes it sound severe, but it never really upset me; I can remember only two to three occasions--which lasted for a good couple mins each--when I loathed the walk-through room and hated people going in and out, but there were extenuating circumstances (and these "circumstances" weren't what you may automatically assume, all you who love making assumptions). When I was in the walk-through room, I was using Isaac's bed; Isaac decided to give it to Andy (which is fair, and convenient for me), and since Mom (1) lent my bed away to someone in need and (2) was so filled with compassion for the boy using my bed, that she decided to buy me a new one to replace it. I ended up getting a European-style memory-foam mattress bed: low to the ground, on slats, soooo comfortable. And it's a full-size, an upgrade from my twin. I'm so thankful to have great parents who are eager to help out even when they don't need to; few have that. 

3) Work's been balls-to-the-wall crazy, too. The transition between Rob roasting and Ryan roasting has been excellent, but we lost another barista to Coffee Emporium, and in the meantime we've been trying to jump-start our own baking via Tiffany, who's one of our morning baristas. What this means is that throughout the week we've generally been understaffed, and with Tiffany baking 2 days, it was as if we were short two people. The nice weather at the start of the week kept things relatively calm and manageable, but the weather cooled and the swarms have flocked back in, and we've been crazy-busy. It's a bittersweet thing to say that we've been running out of stock and lowering waste: it essentially means (1) we've been busy enough as a business to actually use everything we buy, but at the same time (2) customers get irritated when we're out of things, and I'm usually the one who has to deal with them in the middle of the lunch rush while there's a line stretching out the door. I got better things to do than deal with a customer who's enraged that we don't have this or that, and wants to talk about it for five minutes. In addition to this, this week's been a little crazier at work as well because last week we full-out changed our menu, and we don't yet have updated menus with updated prices for the salad bar, and customers can't seem to remember what goes on their South Meets West salad that they've gotten for the past four months straight (for the record, it's only five ingredients: pepper-jack cheese, corn, red peppers, black beans, and cajun chicken). How do people not remember these things? I know I'm unobservant as all get-out, but at least I generally know what will be found on things I get day-after-day, month-after-month. Also, we've had all sorts of meetings and stuff 'for all sorts of reasons, and that's added to the busyness. 

4) I won't dive too much into this now, but just because I haven't been blogging doesn't mean I haven't been writing. I've done much writing over the past week: Saturday I wrote about forty pages that I'm really happy about. Sneak peak for an upcoming post you'll probably skim: Act III in my zombie serial has reached its final moments, and thus the majority of Book One will be complete; I've already gotten rough sketches for both books 2 and 3, and I'm confident the story is definitely on the upswing in general from Act 2 of Book 2, a necessary evil. If you skimmed that, just imagine how much skimming you'll do here in the next week or so when the full-breadth post hits the blog!

These things have made my life quite hectic as of late.

Again: I apologize for not posting sooner.

Here's a picture to make this post complete

(as if it weren't already long enough):

The mountains in Oregon. Photo courtesy of Amanda freakin' Hoos.

* And, yes, I'm wholly aware that the title doesn't really "work". The joke's lame, it probably shouldn't even be considered a joke. It's more a veiled, referencing quip meant to be humorous but failing on every conceivable level. I simply didn't think it through, and I just wrote what popped in my head. And instead of deleting it, and naming this post something different, I'm just saying, "To hell with it" and sticking with it. I'm kinda like Amanda Hoos. Or the honey badger. 

in memoriam (II)

Blake and I will miss you guys.

Mandy left Thursday and last I heard was stuck in snow somewhere 'round Colorado. I'm really starting to notice their absence, more-so than usual. Usually on Saturday mornings, Rob's up around the same time I am with coffee in the chemex and his eyes beading with excitement for Dusmesh. While Dusmesh tomorrow will certainly be good, I know it will taste nowhere near as good in Rob's absence. Mandy's only been gone since yesterday, but her absence hasn't gone unnoticed. It's more-so the quiet than anything: you don't hear Rob's cacophonous clearing of his throat, nor Mandy's footsteps as she paces while listening to her phone. Rob and Mandy are without doubt some of my closest and best friends, and they've done so much for me over the last several years, it's just so damned sad to see them gone all the way in Portland. Many tears were shed the other night, and now there's that empty feeling in your stomach when you know you've lost something, that it's still around, but you won't be seeing it again for a long while. It's kinda like feeling cheated.

But cheated isn't the appropriate word. Rob and Mandy had an amazing opportunity and they took it, and we're all excited for them. But the nature of loving people is that while you're excited for new adventures and opportunities in their lives, you also know that the pursuit of said adventures and opportunities might mean the loss of a friend. Not the "loss of a friend" in the sense of what I experienced when moving to Cincinnati--I lost several friends, and the guilt's on their plate, not mine--but in the sense of what happens when someone goes away on a long holiday: the friendship's intact, you're keeping in touch, you know you'll see them again and that it'll be wonderful, but the interim period can be difficult at times.

The other night a bunch of sat in Ams' new "study" (we redid the dining room), and Mandy talked about how amazing it is that we have the friend group that we do: while we have differences in opinion on so many things--from theology to philosophy to ideology--there's respect and love not despite the difference but because of the differences. We're an eclectic group of people, and we've been lucky to be the sort of friends who can talk about serious things, disagree on major points, and at the end of the day not let mere disagreements on issues get between us. Many friend groups aren't like that. Also, our friend group is more like a family than anything: we've all eagerly and delightedly made sacrifices for one another, have sought after each others' good, have a real sense of goodwill towards one another and help each other out. Again: lots of friend groups aren't like that.  Also, and for this I'm very thankful, we've all generally had the same overarching moral principles (while disagreeing here-and-there on minor points): selflessness, sacrifice, love. These are things we find beautiful and worthy of pursuit, and to have a group of friends with this mindset stands in stark contrast to many friend groups where morality is a thing to be laughed at. I'm truly thankful for the variety and quality of my friendships as I go through this life, and my friendship with Rob and Mandy, that's something I'm confident won't change. 

And now here's a video in tribute to Mandy; it's U.S. Royalty, something I apparently listen to all the time but, really, only listened to when Mandy was listening (I actually don't listen to U.S. Royalty as much as you think, Mandy! But, yes, they're one of my favorite artists). Being a relatively unknown band, I didn't find any music videos; so here's the song as a music video minus the video, because it's the best I could do. It's Vacation Vacation, and it grew to encapsulate all of last summer. 

springin' backward

The spring-like weather continues. It's a bit colder, but there's no wind and the sky's are sunny. Am I aware that for the last three posts I've written about this amazing weather we've been having? Yes, as of this moment I am quite aware (thanks for the reminder: you know who you are). I know I run the *high* risk of overplaying the weather, but perhaps empathize with me: I'm just trying to hold onto the good days we have now before resisting the urge to hole up and hibernate through the end of February and March. Today is Groundhog's Day, or so I was told, and the Groundhog was frightened of its shadow, which means another six months of winter. Really, I think it came out, was blinded by the bright sun following its adaptation to the dark and cozy groundhog burrow, and he just wanted to go back inside 'cause it was too early. Kinda like me most mornings: going outside to smoke, getting cold, then going back inside. There's no fear whatsoever, but play it up if you like. In the remembrance of last spring (and in anticipation of the next) here are three songs that encapsulate spring-time for me (since I listened to them constantly back then); and, yes, all are from Florence and The Machine, whom I was devoted to during those days.

february kick-off

We're kicking off the month with one of the best days weather-wise that we've had in a while. Yesterday was great, but today's just been off-da-hook. High sixties, sunny, beautiful skies, birds singing in the trees. I drove with the sunroof down and Mandy blared Local Natives and it felt like spring again. I'm losing myself in this weather, daring to hope that this winter will be mild, giving birth to an early and much-loved spring. But the realist in me, the stoic if-you-will, crushes such hope to powder. History's cyclical, and the cold will come again; but I'm damned well going to enjoy this nice weather while it's here.

Mandy's leaving tomorrow at 10:00 P.M. This is our last night with her at the house, and then she drives forty hours west, taking I-70 all the way to Oregon (or that's my understanding). Last night all the roomies hung out (minus Blake, who was at work, and Rob who's, well, not a roomie anymore; we took a hit losing him): we curled up in Blake's bed and watched The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, since I finished reading the book yesterday afternoon. Mandy made spaghetti, and Josh (Ams' "friend") came over and made cookies, and later in the night Ams made nachos, and Amos and I hung out for a solid while as the night drew to a close. With cool rains rapping on the windowpanes, I crawled into bed around 11:30 and called Mandy K. We talked for a bit, and it was really good, as always. Today there may be some more LOTR in the mix (since Mandy enjoyed the first and showed interest in seeing the others), but for sure there's going to be lots of hanging out. B. Shields and Andy are already here, and Isaac and Amos will be here soon enough. Mandy's making more spaghetti, and no one really knows what the night has in store for us. Tomorrow Mandy and I are hopefully going to get to go to Roh's Street or some other cafe, share one last "coffee-date" before we send her off several hours into nightfall; then things will be different, and not in the way you like.

My windows are open and I've got a candle burning.

I'm going to do a spot of writing and maybe eat an iced cookie Andy brought over.

But, really, I think I'll skip the cookie. Been eatin' awful lately.

So I'll just listen to Local Natives and wait for the "party" to start.

(If you can call it a party)