coffee and volume 14

Before I forget, I would like to thank coffee and volume 14 for keeping me awake on late night drives. You, my wonderful and faithful readers (all two of you!), should probably thank them too, as they are your unassuming saviors from a 2 am phone call. Time zones and delayed, homeward bound flights will really mess with your sleeping schedule.

A. Coffee-drinking (The Midnight Oil)

Some might find the vice diabolical. But it's certainly not so diabolical as circus peanuts, especially when coffee's trusty sidekicks are 3 packets of Sugar in the Raw and delightful doses of cream.

B. Volume 14 (Eardrums? There You Are!)

Even Captain & Tennille sound better at this setting:

1. When Bon Jovi tells you to hold on to what you've got, you HOLD ON.
2. When Kanye tells you to dig for gold, you DIG (or find it in an abandoned mine shaft in the Californian desert).
3. When Colby asks you to count her in, you COUNT HER IN.
4. When Gwen goes bananas, you spell it B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
5. When Jukebox the Ghost wants you to hold it in, you HOLD IT IN.

(etc etc)

And so, I find myself back from J Tree safe and sound, thanks to these things.

Days were spent frolicking in the desert -- meeting trees named Joshua, rabbits named Jack, and cacti shaped liked teddy bears. Nights were welcomed with homeade dinners and conversations with old friends -- ones that know me better than most, and who still seem to like me in spite of it.

Comfortable nostalgia and new memories.
The best of times were had.

For those that care to ask, I will storytell until you're part of the 'in' crowd, but the happenings were numerous, and I fear I may not do them justice. I won't b(l)og you down with my verbosity now, but perhaps a handful of things that happened at JTNP will pop up from time to time in later posts.

To the person who left me the amusing voice mail about one-way streets, I respond with this Shelley-ism, in two-part list form:

1. I don't know what you're talking about.

And....

2. If I did, it's the only way to fittingly celebrate St. Patrick's Day Eve, a celebratory night that's often overlooked for the day of.

Away now, caffeine!

Off to count sheep (bah bah bah)....

The OMF

sometimes unicorns puke rainbows and the evidence is in a slideshow

For those of you who've entered this cyber-house of shenanigans for the 1st time, welcome you brave souls.

There are few things more entertaining than seeing Crider in a dress, an inebriated dancing Crab, and Beez sharing precious moments with a fur-bearing mammal. If you're scratching your head and wondering what I'm talking about, the evidence is right here, set to the soulful and happy tune-age of King Floyd:



To Loose Cannon, my adorable teammates. Thanks for a wonderful season, and best of luck to all of you this upcoming one. Enjoy!

Love,

The Original

homeward bound

I'm feeling an increasing desire to go home -- home to people who see me for all my annoying imperfections but love me in spite of it, home to a delicious meal, and home to a pot of green tea.

This week has been taxing. The ability to see duality in things can be an asset, and I have a strong propensity towards it. But it can also lead to a hearty helping of confusion and having to sort through the slop is draining.

As I walk away from a good many things I care so much about, I know that sometimes the best place to walk towards...is...home.

oh, the people we meet

The past few weeks and weekends have been pret-ty darn craaaaazy. And I've met quite the array of interesting people:

1) Miss Rhoda (Trip to Midtown Tavern, not to be confused with the Cinema): You don't have to be Encyclopedia Brown in the schoolyard, or Detective Poirot on the Orient Express, to figure out that a pint-size glass of Alabama Slamma looks nothing like a pint-size glass of White Russian. And so, we find Miss Rhoda, on a snowy weeknight, having one too many. On most occasions, even while inebriated, I'd hope that I could tell the difference between the likes of Koolade and a tall glass of cream. But, alas, this distinction was not in Miss Rhoda's situational skill set.

(Pay attention now!)
A chance encounter with Miss Rhoda.
OMGY? Or OMGN? Jury's still out.

2) The J-man (From Colorado with love, via the United States Postal Service): My one and only Valentine's Day card this year said something like this -- 'Jesus loves you. Jesus loves us all.' Thanks for relaying the message, Val and Crider.

3) Lady at Walgreens (Trip to my birthplace, Morgantown, WV): Every once in a while, if you have one dimple and a stellar personality, people will tell you all about their near-life altering or ending experience at the Mon General Hospital across the street -- without you even asking. And this could all happen whilst eating Circus Peanuts (still grrrrooooosssss!, btw).

4) Mr. Circus Peanut, revisited (Trip to Walgreens): If I wanted to eat pure sugar and have it be a pleasing experience, I simply would eat Sugar In The Raw. If I wanted to eat pure sugar and have it be an unpleasant experience, it would be orange, and peanut shaped. I'll always remember, Mr. Circus Peanut -- how I gave you a chance, and all you gave me in return was the taste of rotten banana.

5) Mr. Feta Turkey Burger from Wegmans (Trip to Market St): Circus peanuts, turkey burgers. Not people, I know, but you react to them like you react to people. Like it / don't like it. Etc, etc.

So recently, my taste buds gave turkey burgers a try. Let me just say, there's nothing quite like the marriage of meats and cheeses on a George Foreman grill. And meeting this couple for the very 1st time? Mmm-licious! Nom nom nom...

What was it that I placed on top of my turkey burger? Why, more cheese of course! Two thumbs up for grilled cheesy-laden turkey patties, topped with cheesiness, in a garlic-butter toasted bun.