Parting is such sweet sorrow....

So here I am in Michigan. My home away from home. The trip up was exciting. I'm such a little kid when I get onboard an airplane. Only bad part of the whole trip was my PSP freaking out in Minneapolis. It works fine now.

Today I got to see my entire family, most of whom I haven't seen in five or six years. They've all changed so much! My two half-sisters/cousins are older and so much more fun to be around. I'm spending the night at their house tonight so I get to see them a torture them a little more.

It's really crazy standing outside at night. I can see four times as many stars as I can in Texas and it's so incredibly quiet...and cold. But I love cold weather. It's much better than the 100 degree weather we have in Texas. I must say, I'm having a hard time suppressing the urge to move up here. When I'm here I feel exactly like I do out at the horse farm: clear headed and centered. But leaving my friends and The Q behind is just not something I'm willing to do. I care about the Q more than I have for any other girlfriend. She's truly marvelous and really the only reason I can't drop everything I have in Texas and move up here.

But anyway, it's nice to visit. Tomorrow I'm going skeet shooting with my dad and uncle. I love to shoot skeet; very fun it is.

I shall return on Tuesday(The Q is coming over to meet my parents that day. Excitement!). Until then, I'm enjoying Michigan as much as possible.

Bored and Extremely Dangerous

I was bored at work:


So I drew a picture in Photoshop:


Nothing special. I did it in 15 minutes or so. Just messing around with brushes and the burn tool. I like how the grass came out.

I suppose those perfect binds I did are done drying and can be cut now. And I should probably box all those tape binds that just finished running. But what I really want to do is lay down on the floor and pass out. An hour of sleep in a 24-hour period will do that to you. Trust me. -=wink wink=-

I love the smell of Materialism in the morning....

Three cheers for new stuff!

Huzzah! I got a new car!

Huzzah! I got my PSP back!

Huzzah! Um. That's all I've got.

So the pile of bolts and metal I called a truck has finally released me from it's icy grip and allowed me to obtain my rightful birthday gift: a 1996 Honda Civic. Yeah, I know, everyone has one of those. And I say to you, "No, not everyone. But most do, yeah." However, I happen to be the only person to own one named Scuttle.

I was apprehensive at first. I didn't like the fact that it was an automatic or that it was white or that it was in fact a vehicle owned by so many that you can't throw a stone without hitting one. All of those predispositions changed after I drove it home from San Antonio. I love my new car. It's clean, it's economical, it doesn't look like an ogre sat on it, and best of all, the starter works! The only things left to do to it are get a new stereo and get the transmission fluid flushed. Not bad considering it was essentially at the bottom of a lake for 24 hours.

But before all that hubbaballoo, I regained possession of a Sony PSP. Something I've been longing to do since I got rid of my first one in order to buy an Xbox 360. I got it just in time too. I'm leaving this Friday to go to Michigan and I wanted to have it by then so I'd have something to do on the plane. Also, I didn't want my Mom all disappointed finding out I had sold it. It's been hard pulling off the charade of owning a PSP. All is well though. I've been getting my Lumines fix and hopefully when I return from the north I'll be able to buy Me & My Katamari so that The Q and I can have fun with the Prince's last adventure.

Easter was cool. I had the day off of work. Businesses closed = No work for the CPC which also ='s me not having to work. (Can you do that? Add an apostrophe s to an equals sign? I suppose I could have wrote equals, huh?) I was invited to The Q's grandparent's house to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus H. Christ. Food was eaten, eggs were discovered, and egg-shells were walked upon without being broken. I enjoyed her family. But Friday with her Dad at the Hippy Hour was more enjoyable. I rode in a Corvair and got smashed with some cool older people. Much more relaxed.

Oh, and remember, 4 out of 5 Dentists surveyed would recommend Trident to their patients who chew gum.

SH 20 Multipurpose Cleaner Woes....

Perhaps it was the Polyacrylic Acid. Maybe it was the Nonlonic Surfacant. It might have even been the Dipropylene Glycol Methyl Ether. Whatever it was, the stuff in SH 20 Multipurpose Cleaner doesn't agree with the paint on my truck. In fact, it's a genocidal maniac. It wishes the destruction of the beautiful blue paint on my little Mazda.

In other words, it's five in the morning and I have nothing to do at work, again. So I decided to make a for sale sign for my truck, remove all my wonderful stickers, and then I even had the idea to semi-wash my truck. I don't know why, but I didn't feel like waiting until I got off to go to a proper car-wash. So to shorten this already lengthy story, I used an industrial strength cleanser to wash my truck. The moment I sprayed some on, applied a paper towel and saw blue on said towel, I knew something was amiss. Luckily, no visible damage was done. I'm sure on some sub-atomic level, paint atoms were raped by SH 20 atoms. Or something.

That'll teach me to wash my truck at five in the morning on the clock.

A Driveway Moment

A few days ago, Jackie, my truck, decided to bite the dust. But only for a moment. The battery died and needed replacement. Luckily, the Q was up to the task of picking me up and taking me to the nearest Wal-"We-have-everything-including-dead-babies"-Mart to get a new one.

Upon installation of the new battery I discovered that something else was also amiss. The starter. It's been giving me hell the past month and today it decided that since the battery went on strike, so would it. Considering I had just used the girlfriend lifeline, I only had one option left: the best friend lifeline. Nick picked me up to get and even buy me a new starter. It was only on our return to the current resting place of Jackie that we observed our lack of proper tools. Fuck.

We decided to push-start the truck but before doing so I gave the ignition one last try and voila! The truck started! Odd. So I drove it home, walked to O'Reilley's and bought some tools. I then positioned myself beneath the belly of the beast and had a look at the problem. It took every ounce of energy I had to remove two of the three mounting bolts on the starter. The final bolt is held in position by an ancient Native American curse and I was thusly unable to remove it. The other part of the curse is what I woke up with the next morning. Pain and lots of it.

Currently my truck is sitting out in the parking lot with one bolt securely holding the starter in place. Surprisingly, that's all it requires as I was able to drive my truck to and from work last night. The plan is to replace the two bolts I managed to get off and then sell the damn thing as fast as I can. I'm done with trying to be a mechanic. The lucky receipient of Jackie will receive not only the truck, but a brand new starter, Chilton guide, and a full tank of gas! Wow!

Anyway, I got to listen to the cool new program on NPR this morning: Core Stories or something like that. Basically, every friday an interview with an older american is broadcast. They have really interesting stories about their past. Good stuff. Definitely "Driveway Moment" material.

I don't want the world to sing, I just want it to pose for me

Rad Parties and Such

Saturday the record for "Most People I've Seen in the Building 10 Courtyard" was smashed. The Vermicious Canids, a band from Mississippi that moved to Austin, celebrated their two-year anniversary of living in The Live Music Capital of the World by rocking people's socks off. They set up their gear outside their apartment downstairs, kegs were purchased, and music was played.

In addition to the Canids, our band, The Devil's Hotrod, played as well. We had to play sans bass player, but we received a lot of compliments on our playing so I suppose we did something right. I think our rendition of the Ghostbusters theme song went over quite well.

Around 12 o'clock the live music stopped and the recorded music began, albeit at a lower volume so as not to alert the Austin Police Department to our awesome shindig. By then I was inebriated enough to shed my pants for something a little more...revealing. My friend Tracy has been knitting me a thong for about a month or so and Saturday was it's coronation. Yes, that's right. I donned a thong in front of 50-75 people, 95% of which I had never met. Nick and I died laughing as is usual in situations where I do something completely ridiculous. I believe my ass was slapped on several occasions. But hey, I made six bucks out of it.

Presently I'm sitting on my ass. At work. Something I've been doing for over two hours. Somebody has to stay here in order to let the next shift in and apparently I was nominated for the job. -=sigh=- Sometimes being the ranking officer really sucks. Though, I'm sure it was worse for captains of ships seeing as how they had to go down with the boat. That really doesn't improve my mood any

In horse-ish news, Saturday morning was interesting. And Sunday morning The Q and I had planned on riding, but I hadn't planned on being hungover. I was really looking forward to said riding, but as I couldn't even put sheets on my bed without falling over, I don't see how I would have ever been able to situate myself upon Faux Pas and not end up cracking my skull open. Alas, more waiting.

When your girlfriend comes over to sleep next to you for 45 minutes, that means something.