almost 30

Not happy about it.

the night beckons, compelling me to bake

Yes, bake. Now, I know I’ve written before about baking, but this is not just for my own pleasure. This is work baking, which is not really baking at all. There is dough and an oven involved, but outside that the similarities end. I take frozen dough and put it in an oven. Not to discount the pies, but they’re rather tasteless. This job I do from midnight until 8:30 AM. I am alone, except for the speakers that blare out overhead. The Kroger soundtrack is at best unlistenable and at worst intolerable. Sometimes I find myself singing along without my consent. I do not like the Spice Girls (except to make Baby Spice into Woman Spice, if you know what I mean) and certainly don’t know what a zig-a-zig-ah(?) is. It is followed by Hanson, and then I forget because I would rather stab my eardrums with pencils. Sadly, I work in a deli so there are few such utensils about.

In the baby-mama-drama dept: When my hours get cut, your money gets cut. Nuff said. She tells me “It’s not like you’re just giving it to me to be nice” to which I reply “Show me the court ordered child support. Oh wait. I AM doing this of my own accord.” So the lack of $20 seems to have made her believe it’s okay to keep Parker from me. It’s cool. He will grow up wondering why you didn’t let him see daddy, not why daddy didn’t want to see him.

Finished up Dragon Age Origins. Great game. Can’t wait for the expansion, and the new DLC. I highly recommend it if you enjoyed Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. Speaking of, the KOTOR MMORPG should be out within the year. It will probably pull me away from WoW.

Speaking of WoW, I have cancelled my account. I can’t seem to stay connected to the game. Before leaving, I did level a Paladin to 80, though. ON a PvP server. That shit is easy mode. Hear it was terrible way back. No matter, I will probably be back to the game when Cataclysm hits. Gotta have a Worgen Druid.

Looking forward to Bioshock 2, also. It comes out just before my birthday. I will be 30. I don’t like that idea. Not one bit. The only thing I can say is, I may be thirty but my GF is twenty. Must be doing something right, ya know?

the way things are

Right now, I write at home. It is 539 AM and I start work at 6. Still at Kroger, and tonight I bake. That means a late, lonely shift. Not bad though. I draw then, and sometimes write. None of that will make it here. I still hate my job.

The sex is amazing, and enough to make that hate seem far away. She started a  virgin, but broken in she is, amazingly the best sex I’ve ever had. She is bold, adventurous, and likes to give blowjobs. What more can I want? Outside that, she is amazing and we are happy, and will likely move in together sometime. Technically, we live together, but it’s… complicated still.

so far gone from home

Well, I am here to say I am not dead… yet. I suppsoe that is very little comfort to anyone who reads this, if there are any left who do. I blame myself, really. There’s noone else to blame. This blog has slid to the wayside, forgotten, neglected, and generally left for dead.

It still breathes inside me, though. Sometimes, I get the urge to blog. I just don’t follow up often. Maybe with the new year, I should try again to blog. To write here, and to write creatively, and to add scribbles to the others. I have three, you know. One for personal writing, one for creative writing, and one for drawing. All of them are decrepit.

So, while I did not make the resolution to do so, I will try to post more…  for anyone left reading… that’s not looking for nude photos of Summer or Ms Lenoire.

Death of a Child Molestor

Michael Jackson has died. Many are mourning, but I wonder: Why are we mourning a child molestor? Sorry, but that’s what he was. Were it anyone else, none would give a damn. Perhaps we’d celebrate the death of an accused child molestor during his… what… third trial for the crime.

eBay sales of Jackson’s memorabilia are crawling higher and higher. I saw unopened albums of Thriller for hundreds of dollars. A copy of The Wiz on VHS was $99. This is ridiculous.

Michael Jackson = Child Molestor

Do not mourn. Just go about your business, and hope more child molestors die. “We couldn’t get him on earth, but he’ll get what he deserves” is what my GF’s mother said. Maybe there’s truth to that.

back… if anyone cares

So I’m back for my monthly update. Seriously, I want to write more. Oddly I can’t. Go figure. Things are pretty damned good for me, so I can’t complain. We all know if I can’t complain, I can’t write.

But I am not dead.

road trip

Tonight, I see the Protomen. This entails a two hour drive to Bowling Green with ParticleBoy and the GF. Should be interesting. It’s this festival thing to benefit a kids’ charity, and the other bands seem promising. I have high hopes for a good time.

Things are settling down in my life right now. I’m playing WoW again, at least for a bit until I figure out if I want to. I’m playing more guitar, and talking to people about a band. That dream still lives and always will, I think.

Life is stil good, which means little to talk about.

post-moving update

So, I’m all moved in and things are goosd so far. Me and Margaret (Karen’s mom) are trading days on cooking dinner. I’m happy, she’s happy, Karen’s happy. What more can you ask for? ONe more mouth to feed, but also one more income to help out. Plus, I think Margaret was missing the mothering, since both her daughters were spending more time out than at home of late. She stole my dirty laundry and washed it for me yesterday. I appreciate the thought, but at the same time I’m trying to be as little of a burden as possible.

The van is mine, and working great. The job hunt is on, and hopefully something will come up soon.

My job still sucks.

I’m happy.

The end.

moving day

Another year, another move. Another lease is up, and my address must be changed. Four years now, I have moved every March. I don’t feel like I have a home, you know. I mean, a home is someplace you always belong. I don’t belong anywhere. I only visit for a year, then I move along.

She tries to tell me I have a home with them, but Karen doesn’t understand why I’m a little sad. “You look sad” is what she told me all day, as we packed boxes and moved them to her home. Where I will be staying for a time. Visiting yet another domicile while I figure out what the next move will be. I love this girl, but she just can’t comprehend it. She’s never felt that way, after all.

I’ve been depressed, again. I know it. I also know it will pass. I can’t help it. Life is folding in on itself again, chaning once more, evolving into something unfamiliar. I make plans, and they bust through at the seams again. Maybe it’s just me being emo. I don’t like change.

On the better side of things, I will have a vehicle again soon. I know a guy at work. Joe. Joe buys and fixes cars, and when he gets bored with them he sells them off. Last month he was doing this with a van. He wanted $500, but with taxes and insurance I couldn’t pay it for a few more weeks. Tonight, he called and said he didn’t mind if I paid what I could now after transfering the title and getting insurance, then paid the rest back later. I don’t like owing people money, but I need a vehicle. Also, a van is helpful when moving. So soon I will have reliable transportation once more.

And that’s things now. Not great, not awful, but making me uneasy. I should be happier. I’m working on that.

holy fuck

I’m bored. So so so fucking bored. I mean, fuck… I’m bored. Bored bored bored bored bored. Fuck fuck fuck. I’m bored, fucking bored.