I told you what I over heard at Beaners this week. This morning I drove in to the parking lot for my regular, having gotten up early on Saturday when I could have slept in, only to find a work crew crawling across the facade like Nazis digging up Tannis. [Raiders]
That's two coffee shops gone, a home quickly becoming less habitable and more inhospitable within a short two weeks time span. It is unfortuneate that I can not live in my computer. But hey, they are remaking Tron so anything is possible.
Remaking Tron? Yes. I told you people months ago the world was coming to an end. But did anyone believe me? NO. So suffer the consequences. Not only is Tron coming back but there really is triticale.
And for those of you who think I'm not really reading every tweet a third fragrance called "Tiberius" is out. What the FRELLING FRAK is wrong with these people? And why are we sucking up to William F. Shatner?
A big bar of dark chocolate did not lift my mood. I am still desolate.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
could someone please stabilize this swiftly tilting planet before I puke?
A person hears a lot in a coffee shop. Most of it isn't worth listening to since it is random people living their random life without any concept of voice control. It's almost all loudly talking about trivial stuff. [four fingers are pointing back at me and I see the irony] But today, I overheard something that makes me sad. My favorite place to spend the day off or a free evening is changing. In the space of 3 weeks, the owner of our Beaners franchise is leaving. The place is being redone. No word on if it will be Beaners. [I know it is Biggby's now] or if it will be something new. I don't know if he will open something else. I don't know if my staffers will stay or if they are going somewhere else.
The Stations is gone. Many of my favorite stores to hang in are gone. I didn't even spend a lot of money in them. I spent time with the owners and soaked up the ambience. He's talking about the last day now...
Someone new is coming. Will they have as pleasant a personality as M? Will they mind how many hours I spend in the shop compared to how much coffee I drink? Will there be limits? Will the wifi be free? Will they change the feeling here so much that I won't want to come in anymore? And why can't things stay the same, at least for a little while longer? In these crazy uncertain times a place like this is necessary for refuge. It is a happy place. Ironically, Wil just posted a comment about happy places that took me somewhere I haven't been since I was 12. I spent a little time there and came back into my real world happy place to find that it is fading like Neverland under a London street lamp.
Where will I go? What will I do?
Yeah, Rhett... love you too.
The Stations is gone. Many of my favorite stores to hang in are gone. I didn't even spend a lot of money in them. I spent time with the owners and soaked up the ambience. He's talking about the last day now...
Someone new is coming. Will they have as pleasant a personality as M? Will they mind how many hours I spend in the shop compared to how much coffee I drink? Will there be limits? Will the wifi be free? Will they change the feeling here so much that I won't want to come in anymore? And why can't things stay the same, at least for a little while longer? In these crazy uncertain times a place like this is necessary for refuge. It is a happy place. Ironically, Wil just posted a comment about happy places that took me somewhere I haven't been since I was 12. I spent a little time there and came back into my real world happy place to find that it is fading like Neverland under a London street lamp.
Where will I go? What will I do?
Yeah, Rhett... love you too.
First Anniversary approaches
In just over a month, I will have been a blogger for one year. It is indeed a milestone, one to celebrate. So how should I do this? A fancy party is out of the question as I haven't more than one reader. A year in review post seems too on the nose. But what else would you do to celebrate such a blog____mark?stone?mile?
It is significant to me since I only wanted to develop a consistent writing habit. I do believe that I have succeeded at least in that. I didn't write to generate an audience so again... I met that goal. Meeting goals is something to celebrate. The celebration gives you reason to continue to set goals. let's face it... humans would rather party than work. So we work to have the party. It isn't really about the next set of goals and the learning experience. It really is about the graduation party at the end of the school career. Well... not really. But if it's a good enough platform to get Jeff Priest elected class pres it is a good enough platform to convince myself to celebrate. Sadly, yes... I need convincing.
I could cull all the posts, spend a week looking back at the year. A theme a day, 5 best of theme posts with a summary... daunting. But in the end, I think it will make me a better writter. Now that I have the habit formed, I need to work on the quality. I have noticed that I get off on tangents and rants and never really come back to the center of my idea. I may also have to reaffirm some of my goals as they have been buried under the rubble of circumstance. And I have to do this without getting my butt chewed by brother. Afterall... I am supposed to sacrifice everything for my family when something goes wrong. How much wronger can a divorce and estate issues get?
I know: wronger is not a word. And I am not responsible for his life. I was simply making a point. Not just to my one reader but also to the voice in my head that sounds sooooooo much like my brother Iwant to slap myself senseless.
How should I celebrate... I wonder if Martha has any suggestions.
It is significant to me since I only wanted to develop a consistent writing habit. I do believe that I have succeeded at least in that. I didn't write to generate an audience so again... I met that goal. Meeting goals is something to celebrate. The celebration gives you reason to continue to set goals. let's face it... humans would rather party than work. So we work to have the party. It isn't really about the next set of goals and the learning experience. It really is about the graduation party at the end of the school career. Well... not really. But if it's a good enough platform to get Jeff Priest elected class pres it is a good enough platform to convince myself to celebrate. Sadly, yes... I need convincing.
I could cull all the posts, spend a week looking back at the year. A theme a day, 5 best of theme posts with a summary... daunting. But in the end, I think it will make me a better writter. Now that I have the habit formed, I need to work on the quality. I have noticed that I get off on tangents and rants and never really come back to the center of my idea. I may also have to reaffirm some of my goals as they have been buried under the rubble of circumstance. And I have to do this without getting my butt chewed by brother. Afterall... I am supposed to sacrifice everything for my family when something goes wrong. How much wronger can a divorce and estate issues get?
I know: wronger is not a word. And I am not responsible for his life. I was simply making a point. Not just to my one reader but also to the voice in my head that sounds sooooooo much like my brother Iwant to slap myself senseless.
How should I celebrate... I wonder if Martha has any suggestions.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
twitter twits
I can not figure out how people like the local news crew, ancestry.com and other "big" names know I exist to follow me on twitter. I don't even know how it is that the little guys find me or why I am being followed.
If I start to sound paranoid I can chalk it up to poorly chosing "followed" as the twitter verb or my guilt complex that is growing because I knw I should be working with bro instead of at cross purposes. Not for him, but so that my life can move forward. Frak what he wants and frell him for making me think that I should care. It is a puzzle.
I am sad too because my first coffee love is gone teh way of the arcade games. The stations espresso is gone. They put up a valiant fight to remain in business. But the saturated market and the falling economy made the choice inevitable. I don't know how the market is saturated... there can never be enough coffee. This was my first coffee refuge, a haven of fine beans and great atmosphere. Elle and Dieter even began importing German treats like Lebkuchen straight from the old hometown. Well... close to the old hometown. Alas... a portend of things to pass.
If I start to sound paranoid I can chalk it up to poorly chosing "followed" as the twitter verb or my guilt complex that is growing because I knw I should be working with bro instead of at cross purposes. Not for him, but so that my life can move forward. Frak what he wants and frell him for making me think that I should care. It is a puzzle.
I am sad too because my first coffee love is gone teh way of the arcade games. The stations espresso is gone. They put up a valiant fight to remain in business. But the saturated market and the falling economy made the choice inevitable. I don't know how the market is saturated... there can never be enough coffee. This was my first coffee refuge, a haven of fine beans and great atmosphere. Elle and Dieter even began importing German treats like Lebkuchen straight from the old hometown. Well... close to the old hometown. Alas... a portend of things to pass.
yea google
Erna is not in a nursing home. I think I will call her today. Maybe tomorrow. Yep... chicken. hello McFly!
the inernet is amazing
Technophobia is going to hold me back, or at least keep me in the poor seats, if I don't get over it. Days like tosay make me want to embrace the whole digi world in one big hug. Why do you ask? Well, aside from figuring out that since downloading itunes last week, I now have the means to listen to Wheaton's Radio Free Burrito programs that I downloaded; I found my Grand Aunt Erna. She is 106 and living in Farmington Hills.
Who knew? I squeed so hard I alsmost got kicked out of the Library. Not really. I squeed out loud just in time for 20 people on a security installation detail to round the stacks and find me crying and smiling. Lesson learned, never assume you are alone in a public place even if you are in the corner furthest from the noise nazi at teh desk.
I never expected to find one of his siblings alive. Erna is 3 years younger than Grampa. 109 is a stretch, even for a healthy guy like him. And I realized he has been gone for 20 years. Makes me miss him all over again. But to find a sister...
And have no idea how I should broach the subject. Do I call her out of the blue and give her a heart attack? Would she be as sharp witted as Grampa? Enough to tell me what I need to know? Is the rift too great between them to talk to me? I am as scared as I was excited. I have a phone number. An address... I could drive to GR and grab Tessa and go. But what will I find? Why does it matter?
Because it does. Our genes are the foundation of who we are, but it is the experiences that we accumulate throughout our lifetimes that helps define us through a genetic memory. Surely there are those that decry the concept as hogwash. Calling the Akashic record hogwash doesn't explain the phenomenon nor the overwhelming amount of anecdotal accounts of memories that we couldn't have because recalled events happened hundreds of years before we were born.
Somehow, our anscestors help us find who we are. I am so much like my Gramma Ada. But I never met her. Not unless a fetus can really hear what goes on around the womb. She died three weeks before I was born. So which is more implausible? A fetus can hear or we pass memories through generations? Both are illogical. But what other explaination is there?
I want Erna to know all sorts of things. I want her to know and be willing to tell what happened to separate us from each other. I want her to want us. Not just me. All of us. I want to know if I have to really let go of my brother or if there is ever going to be reconcilliation. But I also want her to tell me that my intuitive searches are accurate.
I think I expect alot from a 106 year old woman. For all I know the address that the Internet spit out is a nursing home... I could google it. Be Back Later.
Who knew? I squeed so hard I alsmost got kicked out of the Library. Not really. I squeed out loud just in time for 20 people on a security installation detail to round the stacks and find me crying and smiling. Lesson learned, never assume you are alone in a public place even if you are in the corner furthest from the noise nazi at teh desk.
I never expected to find one of his siblings alive. Erna is 3 years younger than Grampa. 109 is a stretch, even for a healthy guy like him. And I realized he has been gone for 20 years. Makes me miss him all over again. But to find a sister...
And have no idea how I should broach the subject. Do I call her out of the blue and give her a heart attack? Would she be as sharp witted as Grampa? Enough to tell me what I need to know? Is the rift too great between them to talk to me? I am as scared as I was excited. I have a phone number. An address... I could drive to GR and grab Tessa and go. But what will I find? Why does it matter?
Because it does. Our genes are the foundation of who we are, but it is the experiences that we accumulate throughout our lifetimes that helps define us through a genetic memory. Surely there are those that decry the concept as hogwash. Calling the Akashic record hogwash doesn't explain the phenomenon nor the overwhelming amount of anecdotal accounts of memories that we couldn't have because recalled events happened hundreds of years before we were born.
Somehow, our anscestors help us find who we are. I am so much like my Gramma Ada. But I never met her. Not unless a fetus can really hear what goes on around the womb. She died three weeks before I was born. So which is more implausible? A fetus can hear or we pass memories through generations? Both are illogical. But what other explaination is there?
I want Erna to know all sorts of things. I want her to know and be willing to tell what happened to separate us from each other. I want her to want us. Not just me. All of us. I want to know if I have to really let go of my brother or if there is ever going to be reconcilliation. But I also want her to tell me that my intuitive searches are accurate.
I think I expect alot from a 106 year old woman. For all I know the address that the Internet spit out is a nursing home... I could google it. Be Back Later.
sacred and profane
I know I haven't said this yet... but the new U2 cd is absolutely wonderful. One listen through and teh chakras opened wide. And it wasn't just that first time. Everytime I listen to it they fly open. I think it has as much to do with the subject matter as the music.
This is U2 like we like U2. Unlike Atomic Bomb which seemed to be about loudness and wailing instruments, this is meditative and contemplative with an occaissional foray into the fleshy realms. It acknowledges ones humanity and strives for assension. It goes so much further than the religious touchstones mentioned in a few of the lyrics. This... well, I can only imagine that this cd is the top of G*d's itunes playlist, even if the choice disgruntles the "christian" pop stars.
This is U2 like we like U2. Unlike Atomic Bomb which seemed to be about loudness and wailing instruments, this is meditative and contemplative with an occaissional foray into the fleshy realms. It acknowledges ones humanity and strives for assension. It goes so much further than the religious touchstones mentioned in a few of the lyrics. This... well, I can only imagine that this cd is the top of G*d's itunes playlist, even if the choice disgruntles the "christian" pop stars.
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