I think this story will be good for me to tell when I could as easily keep it to myself. The story might help with later keeping the memory or it's already in there next to the many, yes many, similar feats of watching a movie trying to fight the emotions for the sake of the people in the room or - when alone - trying to hold a mouth full of generated mucus as long as I need to. Maybe pause the movie and find a door or window or - because the emotionally scenes seem conveniently timed near the end of movies - wait a few minutes, get up, return and find the credits rolling.
Somewhat related due to the morning's events but not the direct cause of, last night around 10 p.m. I had and fought the urge to watch Notting Hill. You know, I didn't fight the thought that this is exactly something I would have done eight years ago. Since using the word "fight" twice now, I see its strength. It wasn't nearly strong because nor did I "fight" myself who would have had to plug in an extension cord, find the VHS tape and power on. I didn't fight it because I didn't perform even half of those actions and was not in a position to emergency stop. I did want to watch Notting Hill though.
Just for facts, Notting Hill was airing on ION in the middle of a Saturday two weeks ago. Matt, home for the weekend with Sarah, was asking to turn back to the Ohio State game for more than just to check the score but to watch until the next foul or timeout. And, oh, I don't know where I came into the movie. Flipping back and forth and commercials in general add to guesses. But it was section enough to make me laugh and to most of all, surprise myself (or not) with a few lines of dialogue before the actors said them. Yes, more "most of all" than reminding me how much not that I loved but that I just did watch Notting Hill on my returns from college. Therefore, not surprising by knowing the words.
Oh, yeah, those were just the facts. My suspicion is I added extra need to watch ... some scenes or all of Notting Hill last night after catching the last 20 minutes of Air Force One earlier in the morning.
(Went idle for more than 30 minutes. Finish later.)
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
empha-sis trial ba-sis
Do you ever have things to say but don't know where they should be said? Begin a blog or condense a tweet? Ring around the spiral journal or avoid the broken F and g on my neighbor Brother word processor? When nowhere else will do, where can I say, "The hardest part of wearing women's tights (trial basis) is inching them up again after sitting on the toilet."
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
the world looked
I followed a III almost IIII (fingers) year old Amelia outside yesterday afternoon. Hidden behind the wall of beech wood until she heard the side door as a sign of someone coming. In the morning she had sat on the end of a crooked branch of a tree sawed and dropped to the ground. Now, not entirely much warmer but with the sun definitely shining, she asked me to step into the field with her.
From her height, could she see the team of horses on the opposite end of the field? I could. Could she see that they had stopped, that David was not in sight and that they'd only return with him?
Far away, that was my first sight of who were turning the ground upside down. She wanted me not in prairie field exactly but to walk in the foot sized space craved from the tiller. Right in the smooth, dragged dirt. So I didn't know what size of machinery was in use. As a guess, about a ten foot wide section had been tilled. It of course went the length of the field. And as a guess of memory, there were eight humps of rows in the section. "One sweep or one drag or one rotation" is what I thought he had made with one piece of machinery wide enough for three horses.
I was chilly with the come and go wind and here and there box spots of warm air. No real action coming from the opposite end and no sight of the brown dog Amelia was scared of returning. And nowhere to sit down and keep my hands in my jeans at the same time. Even asking to hug Amelia didn't warm me up.
I remembered the disc playing in my car stopped in the middle of the second to last track. It was "Music for Romance" I requested. Only for one known track and maybe some similar surprises. And I stopped the disc on it - "Recuerdos de la Alhambra."
I told her I was cold and was going to my car and she followed me. There is no hard step or lip from the grass to the sidewalk but I always worry about her crossing one to the other when she's running, so I yell as loud as I need to, "Don't trip!" She didn't and ran kept running behind my get-her-to-run trot.
Best to just put her in by opening the passenger door because that's the seat she's going to end sitting in. I hide at the end of the hood and she's looking for me from inside for a few seconds until I get in the driver's seat. I am in and my car is warm like it is the place to be. Warmer than outside like it would be in summer heat but now it is warmer inside because the wind stayed outside.
I poured her some water because I keep it in my car along with toothpaste and toothbrush and oatmeal which require a rinse and a mix, respectively. The song was in the middle of strings where I left it. We - I sat and listened - sat and listened to the next track and some of the first which I remembered as worth repeating. She kept her feet on the floor, drank her water, adjusted the rear view mirror and tried to squeeze the hand grip I pulled out.
When she tried to open the locked glove box by pulling on the latch I wondered if to her this glove box was like to me and what I experience. Was the glove box locked or was it capable of being opened and she was not strong enough?
After two weekends ago when I nearly torqued the steel from my key trying to open the glove box after I locked it to store my wallet and phone for a big ride, I sprayed an oil and keep a separate key hanging near my right knee. I inserted the key and it turned back and forth and the box opened.
A little bit later we were inside again and saw the backs and butts of three horses pulling David on something the size of a bar stool as he made a one foot and couple inch hump one at a time.
From her height, could she see the team of horses on the opposite end of the field? I could. Could she see that they had stopped, that David was not in sight and that they'd only return with him?
Far away, that was my first sight of who were turning the ground upside down. She wanted me not in prairie field exactly but to walk in the foot sized space craved from the tiller. Right in the smooth, dragged dirt. So I didn't know what size of machinery was in use. As a guess, about a ten foot wide section had been tilled. It of course went the length of the field. And as a guess of memory, there were eight humps of rows in the section. "One sweep or one drag or one rotation" is what I thought he had made with one piece of machinery wide enough for three horses.
I was chilly with the come and go wind and here and there box spots of warm air. No real action coming from the opposite end and no sight of the brown dog Amelia was scared of returning. And nowhere to sit down and keep my hands in my jeans at the same time. Even asking to hug Amelia didn't warm me up.
I remembered the disc playing in my car stopped in the middle of the second to last track. It was "Music for Romance" I requested. Only for one known track and maybe some similar surprises. And I stopped the disc on it - "Recuerdos de la Alhambra."
I told her I was cold and was going to my car and she followed me. There is no hard step or lip from the grass to the sidewalk but I always worry about her crossing one to the other when she's running, so I yell as loud as I need to, "Don't trip!" She didn't and ran kept running behind my get-her-to-run trot.
Best to just put her in by opening the passenger door because that's the seat she's going to end sitting in. I hide at the end of the hood and she's looking for me from inside for a few seconds until I get in the driver's seat. I am in and my car is warm like it is the place to be. Warmer than outside like it would be in summer heat but now it is warmer inside because the wind stayed outside.
I poured her some water because I keep it in my car along with toothpaste and toothbrush and oatmeal which require a rinse and a mix, respectively. The song was in the middle of strings where I left it. We - I sat and listened - sat and listened to the next track and some of the first which I remembered as worth repeating. She kept her feet on the floor, drank her water, adjusted the rear view mirror and tried to squeeze the hand grip I pulled out.
When she tried to open the locked glove box by pulling on the latch I wondered if to her this glove box was like to me and what I experience. Was the glove box locked or was it capable of being opened and she was not strong enough?
After two weekends ago when I nearly torqued the steel from my key trying to open the glove box after I locked it to store my wallet and phone for a big ride, I sprayed an oil and keep a separate key hanging near my right knee. I inserted the key and it turned back and forth and the box opened.
A little bit later we were inside again and saw the backs and butts of three horses pulling David on something the size of a bar stool as he made a one foot and couple inch hump one at a time.
Monday, March 26, 2012
i am warmer
Came the cold back with the breeze. The wood piled by the fireplace will be used after at least three weeks. Thought I'd completely given up on that part five minutes of the morning. That five minutes with a kind of carrying cloth iron flat on the front porch. Ah, the front porch. Just outside, so cold to unchip some frozen wood but short enough to not require gloves. And looking inside, of course. Maybe tomorrow morning once again should I wake early and there are only ashes behind the two vault doors.
True how that tipping hour just came yesterday. "Okay, it's going to get colder." And my under-wear, the stretchiest, most foldable piece of clothing I have, sat at the easiest to reach point above two thermals, oversize sweatpants, five polo shirts and two towels.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
and I laughed by the end
Seems like a lot going on. Asking if phone calls can be put off until the next week, weekends reduced to short hours and those phone calls probably showing up soon. Ugh, if today were Monday again!
It must be hard to be completely focused for ... a month.
For two to three weeks now I've had a lot of difficulty. Somehow, again, missing out on being in contact with people. Not asking them questions.
Okay, let's get some facts in for me.
I am sitting here. This morning I am an hour and counting behind. That is okay. I am sitting here. I slept on the floor again. I flipped the switch last evening to close my eyes and listen to a book and of course I fell asleep. I yawn immediately every time when the lights are off and I am in bed or on floor. It's always late.
I have delayed the Navy application. The other time occupiers are not today's facts. I semi-stretched. I can not do things like stretching or exercising when I have a career or something over my head.
A disconnect: I have never met 1st Class Budd. I am not invested in him to complete this. A solution: shut up and do it. Better: What are your plans today? I could complete it today and really love tomorrow for it.
I am cataloging and assessing right now.
I did not prepare of Sunday's PSR class. Most Saturday nights or Sunday mornings I will at least open the books. I did neither and totally faulted.
Answer the question with a realization; why am I so hard on myself? How do I come to be hard on myself? At what times of the day? Times of the year? After what circumstances? When am I not hard on myself? How have I managed myself that way in the past?
The weather is confusing. I should not be wearing shorts in the morning. My gloves would fit so perfectly in my pockets when I would enter through any doors. And they sat on my passenger's seat after a few minutes of car heat.
Is it this? Is it that the warm weather is BEGINNING and will continue for a long time and that is it? It is a bit that I can't grasp how long this consistent weather mood will last, a bit that I was just here last summer and two in a row seems strange and that summer is not exactly the time period to nest in front of a computer.
How can I ask my parents for help? And who else? Who before Dr. Karger and my session with him April 9?
My daily planner can step up. My car. My laptop. My razor. My bath towels. LOL.
It must be hard to be completely focused for ... a month.
For two to three weeks now I've had a lot of difficulty. Somehow, again, missing out on being in contact with people. Not asking them questions.
Okay, let's get some facts in for me.
I am sitting here. This morning I am an hour and counting behind. That is okay. I am sitting here. I slept on the floor again. I flipped the switch last evening to close my eyes and listen to a book and of course I fell asleep. I yawn immediately every time when the lights are off and I am in bed or on floor. It's always late.
I have delayed the Navy application. The other time occupiers are not today's facts. I semi-stretched. I can not do things like stretching or exercising when I have a career or something over my head.
A disconnect: I have never met 1st Class Budd. I am not invested in him to complete this. A solution: shut up and do it. Better: What are your plans today? I could complete it today and really love tomorrow for it.
I am cataloging and assessing right now.
I did not prepare of Sunday's PSR class. Most Saturday nights or Sunday mornings I will at least open the books. I did neither and totally faulted.
Answer the question with a realization; why am I so hard on myself? How do I come to be hard on myself? At what times of the day? Times of the year? After what circumstances? When am I not hard on myself? How have I managed myself that way in the past?
The weather is confusing. I should not be wearing shorts in the morning. My gloves would fit so perfectly in my pockets when I would enter through any doors. And they sat on my passenger's seat after a few minutes of car heat.
Is it this? Is it that the warm weather is BEGINNING and will continue for a long time and that is it? It is a bit that I can't grasp how long this consistent weather mood will last, a bit that I was just here last summer and two in a row seems strange and that summer is not exactly the time period to nest in front of a computer.
How can I ask my parents for help? And who else? Who before Dr. Karger and my session with him April 9?
My daily planner can step up. My car. My laptop. My razor. My bath towels. LOL.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
go away pothole
"We will see if the fog holds," at 7 a.m., "I know the sun is somewhere, but it is still foggy," at 9 a.m. and "I leave in 30 minutes for a bike ride. Nice looking day," at 10:30 a.m.
This is interesting, this just happened ... like, without influence of that last sentence. At 9 a.m. I set an alarm for 10:30 a.m. Left the stopwatch on my bed. It just beeped. I reached for it and didn't know - instinctively remember - how to silence it. The middle button? The right or the left? It is never like that in the morning. It's BEEPBEEP BEEPBEEP push the left button.
For some reason - unknown, I suspect the desire for something inquisitive and unspecial to write about - a pothole in someone's gravel driveway hasn't faded away. Simply, as a passenger I noticed a huge puddle of water near the road of a property I have passed many times, granted, as a driver. How would that hole be filled? A bed of rocks shoveled in there? Where would the water go? And if not by a shovel but one rock at a time, when would the water run? Or would it?
This is interesting, this just happened ... like, without influence of that last sentence. At 9 a.m. I set an alarm for 10:30 a.m. Left the stopwatch on my bed. It just beeped. I reached for it and didn't know - instinctively remember - how to silence it. The middle button? The right or the left? It is never like that in the morning. It's BEEPBEEP BEEPBEEP push the left button.
For some reason - unknown, I suspect the desire for something inquisitive and unspecial to write about - a pothole in someone's gravel driveway hasn't faded away. Simply, as a passenger I noticed a huge puddle of water near the road of a property I have passed many times, granted, as a driver. How would that hole be filled? A bed of rocks shoveled in there? Where would the water go? And if not by a shovel but one rock at a time, when would the water run? Or would it?
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
come on! (end of entry title)
I bought the CVS menthol pain reliever gel with grid background to replace Rite Aid's chest rub suppressant. Neither are exactly designed to loosen or warm up muscles prior to exercise. But considering how freezing this winter was forecasted to be, any kind of heat wave would be a lovely cocoon.
But, it's much warmer, isn't it? And somehow this suppressant and gel have expiration dates - 7/12 and 8/13 respectively that may have me looking for second uses for one of these plastic jars. And it's been much warmer since before-Sunday when the time went ahead and there easily could have been green leaves on trees like, honestly, there were shoots in the ground.
But, it's much warmer, isn't it? And somehow this suppressant and gel have expiration dates - 7/12 and 8/13 respectively that may have me looking for second uses for one of these plastic jars. And it's been much warmer since before-Sunday when the time went ahead and there easily could have been green leaves on trees like, honestly, there were shoots in the ground.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
newspaper funny
"No more backward thinking; time for thinking ahead. If you don't know your past, your are doomed to repeat it. Have we the people learned nothing from our past? Namely "prohibition." I didn't stop drinking."
Which is funnier? (I can already see this compare and contrast not being described well and a final answer in the form of, "Huh?") Drinking one beer from a can in an evening and then casually lying on the floor looking for a pillow but only finding that aluminum can with the perfect amount of give for a sideways skull and the perfect depth for a scrunched shoulder? Or drinking your limit of alcohol in beer, ending in the same spot on the floor, no concern for a pillow?
Which is funnier? (I can already see this compare and contrast not being described well and a final answer in the form of, "Huh?") Drinking one beer from a can in an evening and then casually lying on the floor looking for a pillow but only finding that aluminum can with the perfect amount of give for a sideways skull and the perfect depth for a scrunched shoulder? Or drinking your limit of alcohol in beer, ending in the same spot on the floor, no concern for a pillow?
Friday, March 2, 2012
lbs
Hurry up, I must write this quickly to start my exercises early so someone is still in the house to spot my bench presses. But wait, I haven't even stretched yet, not even a single jumping jack. And if I don't sort the papers on my bed, they won't sort themselves while I'm in the basement. And maybe I should at least have the daily readings on in the background. Should I turn off "Messenger" audiobook? And I forgot to add a shake of ground coffee to my oatmeal.
Every morning will not be perfect. In the basement by 6:50 a.m. hasn't happened once. But I can sacrifice 30 minutes if, after I am dressed, I flip open my daily planner and write what I know I'll do today and what I want to do today.
I should finish here and exchange my pajama pants and black leggings for some sagging shorts. My ... I'll give her age since I don't know her weight ... 61 year old Mom will spot me as I bench press 280 lbs. hopefully five times. Two mornings ago I tried 285 on the first set. I had worked up to it. Worked up to it so much that I was asking for a spot to keep the weight five pounds higher or squeeze an extra rep. But on this morning I loaded up and laid back with no one behind me and did a breathing and hand grip process and lifted off. One, this is heavy, two, this is heavy, three, can I do five, four, I've done five before (not at this weight), five, break the plane, breakthe plane, breaktheplane, kkkkkkphhh. A grown man sitting on my chest. No, it was like a man deep into an extra large pizza sitting in a recliner on my chest.
I yelled, "Dad!" Patiently waited about five seconds to hear the door. No sound. "DAD!" The door opens and he says, "Did you call?" Yes I called. "Yeah, I'm stuck." Another five seconds until he's there. My head is not moving much and my eyes are closed, and now I know he's coming and I wonder if he can pull this bar the length of my arms because I am spent. I keep my eyes closed. He positions himself right over top of me. I can feel the bottom of this shorts on my face. As I pushed and he pulled, I doubted we'd get it. That he'd say it was too heavy for him and we'd have to decide to either drop the bar onto my chest again and remove plates one side at a time which is okay until one side has an extra 25 lbs. that the other is missing or he could yell, "Ma!" who was a mile away in their bedroom.
We actually did it though. Slammed the bar backward, and I had pain in my left hamstring.
Every morning will not be perfect. In the basement by 6:50 a.m. hasn't happened once. But I can sacrifice 30 minutes if, after I am dressed, I flip open my daily planner and write what I know I'll do today and what I want to do today.
I should finish here and exchange my pajama pants and black leggings for some sagging shorts. My ... I'll give her age since I don't know her weight ... 61 year old Mom will spot me as I bench press 280 lbs. hopefully five times. Two mornings ago I tried 285 on the first set. I had worked up to it. Worked up to it so much that I was asking for a spot to keep the weight five pounds higher or squeeze an extra rep. But on this morning I loaded up and laid back with no one behind me and did a breathing and hand grip process and lifted off. One, this is heavy, two, this is heavy, three, can I do five, four, I've done five before (not at this weight), five, break the plane, breakthe plane, breaktheplane, kkkkkkphhh. A grown man sitting on my chest. No, it was like a man deep into an extra large pizza sitting in a recliner on my chest.
I yelled, "Dad!" Patiently waited about five seconds to hear the door. No sound. "DAD!" The door opens and he says, "Did you call?" Yes I called. "Yeah, I'm stuck." Another five seconds until he's there. My head is not moving much and my eyes are closed, and now I know he's coming and I wonder if he can pull this bar the length of my arms because I am spent. I keep my eyes closed. He positions himself right over top of me. I can feel the bottom of this shorts on my face. As I pushed and he pulled, I doubted we'd get it. That he'd say it was too heavy for him and we'd have to decide to either drop the bar onto my chest again and remove plates one side at a time which is okay until one side has an extra 25 lbs. that the other is missing or he could yell, "Ma!" who was a mile away in their bedroom.
We actually did it though. Slammed the bar backward, and I had pain in my left hamstring.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Georgia
My friend with a stately name, making time after her husband's physical therapy and before her piano lesson. Thanks for listening all the time. Did I tap you for the same water in your eyes early in our conversation that I showed a little of later?
I also like your home ... your house. My Grandma Malich's solarium was an indoor entry unlike your porch-to-door sun room.
How does that happen? We both are sitting on a two cushion love seat, each of our legs torqued under the other, directly facing each other and I have the view over her shoulder of a heavy door probably on its original hinges and the same stairs to play games on and a model fireplace Santa Claus would have to negotiate.
I also like your home ... your house. My Grandma Malich's solarium was an indoor entry unlike your porch-to-door sun room.
How does that happen? We both are sitting on a two cushion love seat, each of our legs torqued under the other, directly facing each other and I have the view over her shoulder of a heavy door probably on its original hinges and the same stairs to play games on and a model fireplace Santa Claus would have to negotiate.
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