Fog never really lifted today. Dissipated a bit, but it only served to hang the misty drifts near the horizon rather than the head-level of 8am. Sharaun’s still taking me to work. The GMC hasn’t come back from the shop. The accident was a month ago come Friday. A month.
I’ve gotten used to being down a vehicle, it has its upside. Sharaun can park in the center of our tiny garage affording passengers on each side a wide enough berth to enter and exit the vehicle comfortably. What’s more, I’ve been able to reclaim some of the space with one of those pop-up camp chairs. Turned it into my own little smoking lounge. Sit out there in the cold and read my book and smoke my pipe and listen to music. No room for that sort of small luxury when there’s two cars shoehorned between the shelves of old boxes and air compressor and bicycles hanging from rafters.
I suppose I could use this as a sort of period of adjustment.
When the second child comes I’ll be hard pressed not to forfeit the new car to Sharaun and our progeny. It’s larger and it’s safer. I should be steeling myself for that day during this period of absence. Too bad you can’t get an iPod integrated into her Saturn. If it weren’t for that I wouldn’t too much mind trading vehicles. I can get on with a smaller passenger car OK, I don’t really mind – it’s not the sports-utilitarianism I’m beholden to. I guess I could put in an aftermarket head unit, but it seems like an awful amount of trouble. I’m so irrational about it that I’ve considered ditching her car and leasing something newer to drive. This is how ridiculously my brain holds to it being “her car.”
The gym is full of new-year-resolution folks. Packed. I remember it like this when I myself resolved to start going shortly after the start of 2009. Like many other good-intentioned people my fervor ebbed in the later quarter of last year. Not to say I stopped going completely, but I did backslide. Late 2010 travel and holiday don’t-cares saw me put back on a good ten pounds of what I’d shed earlier in the year. So I, too, am back with a vengeance.
Before I go… recently there was a comment on a blog I wrote way back in 2004. The “satanic flier” post was my recounting, supplemented with media, of a rather juvenile, yet still pretty funny if you ask me, prank my friends and I pulled back in high school. The comment led me to re-read the post again and remember the event. But I’m not writing now to rehash the entry but rather to laugh at the string of comments its collected. They crack me up:
harmony ponders…
i wonder how santinic people do there richals and thing’s like that cause i have a friend named shadow and he’s only about 14 and i wonder how much he would know at he’s age?
disaster asks nicely…
please send me a photo 4 the satan
Blake isn’t satanic or anything, but…
wow that was amazing. my nickname is SATAN so i think its kinda funny story, im not satanic or anything i think i might do this at my school would u mind if i used a copy of the same flyer?
DarkJoeri warns me…
yow mutherfucker dont mess whit evil
And finally, Anonymous says…
we flier of ot good
Guess the devil really does bring out the worst in people, huh?
Good stuff. Goodnight.
Also written on this day...
- stretch, read, cook - 2024
- pop a hands-free wheelie - 2011
- lamentations - 2009
- it all happened at the wolf parade show - 2006
- thanks for taking bullets - 2005
- meth-bread - 2004
So your wife hates the floors, you wish you had more garage space, and are having another kid that you don’t have a legal bedroom for. I totally agree you should stay in your house.
I will tolerate no ill talk of the house. It’s completely rational to expect to live here forever. Completely rational.
Pedro’s cousins have the hook ups with the cars man. You let me know what you like. 🙂