First of all, someone is using something banana scented here in the recovery room. The only thing worse smelling, is that agent orange disinfectant shit that they spray all over when they're cleaning. Anyways, bananas are only good two ways:
1. In pie
2. In that cake that Amber makes
any other time, they're fucking gross.
Secondly, we (Amber and I) went out to breakfast with Piper/Patrick, and the Cahans yesterday to Le Peep. It was pretty good, and the Piper/Patrick contingent bought breakfast for us for being ringer dog watchers over labor day weekend. This is what I learned:
1. The phrase "What's up, grown up?" us uttered by Patrick, who is sorta like a California version of Wes Waterston.
2. The fact that Piper was Little Miss Kalamazoo, and has had at least 2 life changes within the past 3 months. Much like my brother Mark, I'm equating her to Margo Tannenbaum, as there always seems something new going on with that girl. Hopefully, Piper doesn't mysteriously lose the end part of her ring finger.
3. Alison gives away designer clothes that she may have never worn. Amber said she was going to give them to Anne ... but what Amber doesn't know, is that I'm going to flip them on eBay, and probably go on a spending spree at Goorin ... as there were 3 pairs of Lucky 7 jeans (this doesn't mean a fucking thing to me), but Piper says are really expensive (as her eyes opened wide when Al disclosed what was in the bag).
Anyways, breakfast was directly responsible for the rest of my day ... as when we got home, Amber took a nap, so I decided to catch up on my reading. Which was:
1. Ignition City 1-4, by Warren Ellis - alright stuff, but nothing that blew my socks off.
2. The Boys 31-34, by Garth Ennis - this was an okay arc, but this series suffers from the fact that nothing really ever goes on. I'm beginning to feel that Garth has really shot his wad is starting to get burned out. I mean, even his Punisher was better than this creator owned work.
3. Herogasm 2-5, by Garth Ennis - more of the same. Lots of words, and shock value ... little else.
4. Agents of Atlas 2-10 - the BEST book, hands down, that Marvel puts out but probably no one reads. I'm beginning to think that there is nothing better than talking apes, or more specifically, talking gorillas ... they really make stories more enjoyable. What really makes this book is the pulp feel that it has.
5. Various Hellboy series, the best of which was 1947 - the best Hellboy stories were the ones from when he was a kid. They're pretty hilarious.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
I Doth Protest Too Much ... Sometimes
There are times in my life when I wish I could live my life in reverse, like the Fitzgerald protagonist Benjamin Button. I have noticed the following attributes that seem to be accumulating as I put on years (as opposed to lbs):
1. My anxiety and stress levels increase, so much so I have panic attacks.
2. I notice various aches and pains, that I self diagnose, which make my feel like my hypochondriac mother ... yet mine really exist.
3. My molehills are mountainous, as I make small things into really big things.
Case in point, I was stressing myself out this morning over this self-evaluation we have to do at work. In their infinite wisdom, the suits at NMH have decided that we should critique ourselves in regards to merit raises, in order to alleviate the work load on management. This immediately raised the question in my mind of "if I'm doing that, then what the fuck do I have a manger for?" Anyways, as when most things disrupt my daily routine, or life routine for that matter, I complain. As the eval is due by the 13th, and I have a 3 day weekend ... I had to get it done today, tomorrow, or Thursday, which would have been out as I only work 8 hours. Biting the bullet, I sat and worked on it for an hour, and made myself laugh at the absurdity of the whole thing.
In other words, it brightened my day.
That is of course, until, the maximum raise percentage we can get is 2. This stifled me. I worked so very hard on my review, gave it 100%, which means that 98% was too much effort. Now, I realize that I should be thankful that I have a job, and that I even get a raise ... but I find it difficult to swallow that NMH can give us so little. Keep in mind, at all our employee meetings, the hospital is never in the red, and profits exceed 100s of millions of dollars, even though the great irony is that we're a nonforprofit entity.
I was now on a roll.
Often times, Chip, and Amber in not so many words, have retorted that if the people don't call you, you go to the people, in regards to hanging out, and making new friends. So, that's what I did ... I started event planning, because I feel no one else does ... at least in my social circle. There's plenty of fun stuff coming out that looks like it'd be really cool to go to, so now, I guess, I just have to wait for people to say "yes".
That is of course they're feigning liking me.
1. My anxiety and stress levels increase, so much so I have panic attacks.
2. I notice various aches and pains, that I self diagnose, which make my feel like my hypochondriac mother ... yet mine really exist.
3. My molehills are mountainous, as I make small things into really big things.
Case in point, I was stressing myself out this morning over this self-evaluation we have to do at work. In their infinite wisdom, the suits at NMH have decided that we should critique ourselves in regards to merit raises, in order to alleviate the work load on management. This immediately raised the question in my mind of "if I'm doing that, then what the fuck do I have a manger for?" Anyways, as when most things disrupt my daily routine, or life routine for that matter, I complain. As the eval is due by the 13th, and I have a 3 day weekend ... I had to get it done today, tomorrow, or Thursday, which would have been out as I only work 8 hours. Biting the bullet, I sat and worked on it for an hour, and made myself laugh at the absurdity of the whole thing.
In other words, it brightened my day.
That is of course, until, the maximum raise percentage we can get is 2. This stifled me. I worked so very hard on my review, gave it 100%, which means that 98% was too much effort. Now, I realize that I should be thankful that I have a job, and that I even get a raise ... but I find it difficult to swallow that NMH can give us so little. Keep in mind, at all our employee meetings, the hospital is never in the red, and profits exceed 100s of millions of dollars, even though the great irony is that we're a nonforprofit entity.
I was now on a roll.
Often times, Chip, and Amber in not so many words, have retorted that if the people don't call you, you go to the people, in regards to hanging out, and making new friends. So, that's what I did ... I started event planning, because I feel no one else does ... at least in my social circle. There's plenty of fun stuff coming out that looks like it'd be really cool to go to, so now, I guess, I just have to wait for people to say "yes".
That is of course they're feigning liking me.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Sunday Morning Venti Coffee
I have a couple things on my mind ...
Chip and I had a lot of deep conversations before he left, or they might have seemed so because we were drunk, which means everything can be anything at that point. Anyhow, he told me I should start carrying around a moleskin, that way, when an idea hits you, you can follow it up later, if you're indisposed. This enables an idea to ferment, at least subconciously, because even if it's dumb, five minutes later, after giving it something thought, it could be fleshed out, and turn into something great. Secondly, accumulating enough of these ideas might turn into something grandiose, instead of snippets of snark on the internet social networks. Anyways, I kinda put this idea in the back of my head, because who really does this but hipsters, who I can't stand in all their pretentiousness, and, of course, Chip ... who it actually works for, as I've seen his notes sprawled in various places, almost to uni-bomber proportions?
Flash forward to this past Thursday night, where I'm reading Neil Gaiman's Fragile Things in bed ... in his introduction Gaiman tells where each of his short stories originated from. It amazed me how really organic story writing can be, and was wowed by the fact that he, and I would imagine many writers, just have stories laying about, either waiting to be expanded upon, or just not quite right ... only to be fixed months, maybe years down the road. I thought it was really cool how Gaiman told about how each of those stories came to fruition, and why they did so.
Long story short, Chip may be right, a fact that he enjoys hearing regularly. Que My Name is Mr. Know It All by Primus.
The other thing I've been thinking about lately is my new maxim, that being "You do the things that are important to you". My best example of this is my parents. Although it seems like I'm looking for a gift, I'm really not ... just illustrating a point. So, on my birthday, my mother said she forgot my birthday card, and that she would mail it. To this day, I have received nothing in the mail. I can only be led to believe that it's not that important, because if she was, she'd do it.
Chip and I had a lot of deep conversations before he left, or they might have seemed so because we were drunk, which means everything can be anything at that point. Anyhow, he told me I should start carrying around a moleskin, that way, when an idea hits you, you can follow it up later, if you're indisposed. This enables an idea to ferment, at least subconciously, because even if it's dumb, five minutes later, after giving it something thought, it could be fleshed out, and turn into something great. Secondly, accumulating enough of these ideas might turn into something grandiose, instead of snippets of snark on the internet social networks. Anyways, I kinda put this idea in the back of my head, because who really does this but hipsters, who I can't stand in all their pretentiousness, and, of course, Chip ... who it actually works for, as I've seen his notes sprawled in various places, almost to uni-bomber proportions?
Flash forward to this past Thursday night, where I'm reading Neil Gaiman's Fragile Things in bed ... in his introduction Gaiman tells where each of his short stories originated from. It amazed me how really organic story writing can be, and was wowed by the fact that he, and I would imagine many writers, just have stories laying about, either waiting to be expanded upon, or just not quite right ... only to be fixed months, maybe years down the road. I thought it was really cool how Gaiman told about how each of those stories came to fruition, and why they did so.
Long story short, Chip may be right, a fact that he enjoys hearing regularly. Que My Name is Mr. Know It All by Primus.
The other thing I've been thinking about lately is my new maxim, that being "You do the things that are important to you". My best example of this is my parents. Although it seems like I'm looking for a gift, I'm really not ... just illustrating a point. So, on my birthday, my mother said she forgot my birthday card, and that she would mail it. To this day, I have received nothing in the mail. I can only be led to believe that it's not that important, because if she was, she'd do it.
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