The 2 a.m. Laundry List
Category Archives: Personal
Grocery Trip Surprise
Being on my own, ‘groceries’ is a foreign concept, especially since I eat a dog diet. A dog diet is one characterized by adherence to a routine, not necessarily dog food. I’ll avoid the easy jokes about the cafeteria at work or making the staggeringly bad choice of eating at Hardee’s. In other news, Hardee’s closed its Fayetteville location. I feel safer already.
My friend and neighbor wanted me to pick her up a whole chicken. After some initial confusion, I realized she didn’t want a live bird necessarily. I wondered, “Do they even SELL whole chickens anymore? And if so, at Harp’s?” I’d hadn’t contemplated a different life wherein I’d be buying a whole chicken. Not all interesting things are what you’d expect.
The Harp’s on Garland has been suffering a renovation since 1919, or so it seems. Just for kicks and giggles, I opted to go there. My expectations were low, much like they were in a Bush presidency, so I was pleasantly surprised by how much it had improved. Even so, it doesn’t compare well to the Gutensohn location in Springdale. None of them do, except for perhaps the Lowell branch.
Wandering the aisles like I was on a drunken excursion, I went to the alcohol section. Two younger men were looking in the beer section. As men do at that age, they were calculating the best alcohol content options versus price. “That’s piss, dude. No way I’m drinking that,” one of them said. “Well, you’re paying the difference.” I’ve heard that same conversation a hundred times in my life. Because I’m committed to the dual goals of being immersed in unplanned stories and being helpful, I cleared my throat and said, “If money weren’t an option, what would you buy?” The man in the bright sports jersey said, “Ah, no question, it would be Budweiser.” His friend shook his head. “NO, it would be ___.” I didn’t recognize the brand name of the beer. I’m not brand loyal. I like both low-quality and high-quality beer.
“Okay, here’s the deal. Here’s $10 to pay for the difference.” Both looked at me suspiciously. “All I ask is that you promise to tell this story, that an old crazy guy gave you $10 at Harp’s so you could buy the beer you want.”
They exchanged looks. “For real?” I laughed. “Yes, no catch. We’ve all been young once.” I handed the young man wearing the colorful sports jersey a $10 bill.
“Thanks, I’m not too proud to take it.”
As I walked away, both of them animatedly began the inevitable debate of how best to spend the extra money on the beer of their choosing. Later, if they began imbibing the beverage of their choice, I hoped they’d make the story of my offer truly crazy. Alcohol inspires creativity. I do wonder how long they stood at the case arguing. Too many options often make the simplest decision unbearable.
I made my way to find the mythical whole chicken.
Life is good.
Love, X
TMI & Hey! Get To Know Me
I use horrible toilet paper. I don’t like Charmin or anything that feels like a paper washcloth. I am still using my first roll from since I moved to this apartment. Granted, I’m at work all morning. And I do take high-quality fiber supplements for multiple reasons. And vitamins. If you’re not taking good fiber, you’re missing out on several health benefits. If I’m ever the Surgeon General, I’ll mandate that we add fiber to beer and wine. I preferred cheap toilet paper before, too, in my other life. Just like I love horribly thin and small bath towels. And I shave using bar soap. And haven’t bought shampoo for myself in YEARS. Yes, I still use deodorant.
“If you find someone who takes the time to compliment you, take the time to let them do it.” – X
The buzz yesterday was that Mercy is raising all employee’s pay to at least $15 an hour. This isn’t a political observation. I was glad to see that some media outlets repeated a statistic that shocks a lot of people with great jobs: 47% of all jobs in Arkansas pay LESS than $15 an hour. Most people aren’t aware of this. And yes, this is the highest for the country. Though many people understandably disagree with me, I am a true socialist regarding pay: I believe that everyone doing the same job as me should earn the same rate of pay. I don’t feel irritated if those making less than me get a raise while I don’t. Of course, I’d welcome more money. During my tenure at my job, I declined a raise twice so that it could be distributed to newer employees. In one of those years, my employer also reduced pay to avoid a bigger layoff; this caused me to lose 8% of my pay. That’ll teach me, won’t it? 🙂
The/Fun Expert Rule: “Never invite a technical writer along for a moment of whimsy.”
I’d like to say I cut my hand in a surprising way yesterday while doing Karate. The truth is that I was crafting, making a solar light display using an unused blue glass hummingbird feeder. I managed to get blood in places that even Dexter wouldn’t be able to find. It wasn’t deep enough for stitches, though, especially since I’d already overreacted and amputated my hand. Just kidding. It was pure luck I didn’t cut a lot deeper. Negligence: 1. X: 0.
“Every “yes” is an envelope for “no.” And vice versa. Choices inherently exclude other options.”
Just because it’s fun to experiment, I managed to wake up and be at work in 8 minutes one morning. With the notable exception of one morning this week, I quite often jump from bed and into my day. Now that I have a despicable Echo a few feet away, I ask it, “Play me quotes by Demetri Martin.” Or Steve Martin, for that matter. Because I don’t have a pet, I try to say a few words to Mr. Snuffleupagus. (Whose first name is apparently Aloysius, something I didn’t know until this week.)
“If you’re saying yes to the wrong things, no becomes difficult, even for the easy choices. And vice versa.”
I’m trying to get people to call this apartment simplex “The Long.” It stands for L.On.G. or The L Building on Gregg. Anything would be preferable to the unimaginative and pejorative names by which it is known now.
After worrying about spending too much on a new phone, I bought a Moto G Power. For the price, it’s astonishing. Y’all have to remember that I’m accustomed to using hand-me-downs. I use AT&T pre-paid with unlimited to save about $40 a month. It’s a good thing I just bought a set of really nice cables for my old phone, as none of them fit my new one.
Also, my work finally decided to stop making me pay twice as much for my health benefits now that I’m divorced. I didn’t mind giving money to a nice multi-million dollar insurance company for no reason, though. I’m going to invest that extra money in a chinchilla venture. I’m just kidding. Everyone knows the money is in banana peels now.
“You’re under no obligation to make sense to anybody.” Someone sent that to me in response to my crazy Q & A post. “I like you better when you’re out there on the limb, extemporaneously whispering whatever is in your head. Unfiltered. You keep threatening to go to the next level, the place where people might get nervous. Go there. And stay there.”
Hummingbirds are visiting again. Someone gave me a hummingbird feeder and I hung it in the inside corner of my upper floor. I didn’t know that despite the chaos at this apartment before my arrival that hummingbirds once visited. I welcome them back. I just wish they’d learn the words. (Sorry for referencing an old, tired joke there.)
In conclusion, I’m saving a fortune on toilet paper.
And if you read my post, you’re probably going to spend at least a few seconds pondering the implications of that.
New Family Portrait
Because someone quipped, “X, you don’t have any real family photos in your apartment…”
Earlier in the week, I posted a goofy picture inspired by Step Brothers.
I had a 16X20 print made of it and bought a nice frame today.
It’s now proudly hanging in the living room, above my bed. (This sentence sounds off somehow, doesn’t it?)
As noted on the watermark, the picture was provided by Playboy Photography, a company whose reputation compares only to Prestige Worldwide.
Now, I’ve fixed my “I don’t have “a” family photo in my apartment” issue.
When I was done, the only way I can describe the joy and satisfaction is by using a quote from the movie Step Brothers:
“This is going to sound weird, but for a second, I think you took on the shape of a unicorn.” — Dale
Love, X
Dragonfly Day
Most mornings, I listen to Somewhere Over The Rainbow, the original. It invokes a dumb optimism in me sometimes. Did you know that the song originally has an introductory verse that is rarely sung? If such things interest you, you should search for it and compare the mood and tone of the missing verse with the rest of the song. It’s a little bit whimsical and magical, and implies that if we have the willingness, there are roads everywhere if we choose to take them.For no reason in particular, today is dragonfly brooch day. I’d like everyone to refer to me as Codename Dragonfly today.
Grateful
For karma, I tip each time I buy lottery tickets. It’s given me so many interesting moments with random clerks at convenience stores. If I have a winning ticket, I try to donate a bit more. The lottery is a fool’s game, one which tricks us into miscalculating the realistic odds of winning. That’s part of the reason I like it. In my heart, there’s not a day that passes that I don’t consider how many against-the-odds things I’ve experienced. It not only amplifies my gratefulness for still being here, but it also reminds me that almost everything that turns out to be magical sounds ridiculous to the reasonable mind. Harry Potter? Not publishable. Haruki Murakami? He had a moment like I did, except in his, he realized he was going to be a writer. Demetri Martin? On his way to being one of the best legal minds in the world and just decided that comedy was his passion.
I sometimes find myself contemplating writing a book based solely on the stories that clerks share with me after I tip them and share my karma theory with them. Most of them realize that I will follow through on my promise to give them a million dollars if I hit the jackpot.
A couple of places in Springdale had clerks who knew me and knew I was going to tip them. I miss the surprised looks on their faces when they saw me walking in. I’m certain they are wondering what happened to the tip-for-karma guy.
Springdale feels like another country to me now. I miss it, especially after having walked 1,000 miles on its streets in the last year. I know Jim at the produce stand is wondering what happened to me. As is Güino, my tuxedo cat.
Lately, I’ve mentioned a couple of times that there’s a clerk here near my apartment in Fayetteville who resisted accepting tips. Now, she smiles, knowing I’m going to leave the money on the counter, whether she accepts it or not.
The last time I went in, I said, “tee-me lie kas-to chaw.” I don’t speak Nepali. But I spoke enough, that day.
As I left her the tip, she smiled.
I’m not sure there’s a value in knowing that I made a human connection.
We all miss the place we call home in our hearts.
A few words of memorization for me. And a gong in her head hearing the words.
Is karma real? I don’t know.
But I heard the gong as it sounded.
Love, X
1,111
I knew I was in serious trouble when my manager called me into his office and asked which type of punishment I’d like: “Biblical or Corporal?”
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I did break my pushup record yesterday. I did 1,111 just to have a memorable number. Today’s forecast: ain’t gonna be no rematch. I’m glad I did it but the obsessive component of it is exhausting.
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I learned several things yesterday. The problem with learning is that it forces you into cognitive dissonance when you’ve learned but don’t apply it to your life.
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Life Tip # 46: If you ensure that you’ve always kept a jar of moonshine nearby, you’ve got both anesthesia and antiseptic.
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Edit: I weigh 150 lbs again. I’m eating a lot more; I ate an entire thin crust cheeseless pizza Monday. I’d be happy with 170. Just in case someone tells me they’re worried about me. All my afflictions are mental and I’m keeping a close, albeit crazy, eye on those.
Law Of Increments
The Law of Increments is such a revelation. A couple Fridays ago I did a thousand push-ups. I used anxiety as a trigger to do each set. It occurred to me Saturday that I could also try to pace myself, using an incremental response. I got up at 3:30 today. If I stay up 18 hours, I only have to do 55 push-ups an hour to hit a thousand. Since I know I can easily do that, I can trick my mind into doing twice that per hour. 110 an hour seems stupid to me now after 10 weeks of pushups. So I’m using today as a test. I’ve got nine hours of incremental sets of push-ups to reach a thousand. 12:30. And If you’re reading this, keep in mind that craziness is contagious. The takeaway is that we can accomplish a hell of a lot if we don’t let our goal wear us out before we even start. I don’t have to do a thousand push-ups. Just 110 an hour.
Hypocritical Lessons Learned The Hard Way #1
Note: everyone reading this will have at least one gong go off in their heads. I’m not sure why, but a muse settled in my head this afternoon. Feel free to tell me that I’m wrong.
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The Botany Rule: Love and nurturing are on Maslow’s hierarchy for a reason. If you don’t bring your water bucket and a bit of sunshine to those you love, they will needlessly suffer the absence of that which nourishes; if possible, they’ll find it elsewhere. It isn’t the plant’s fault. Just because we have reason and consciousness should not fool you into thinking that we aren’t wired for intimacy.
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So much of what ignites us in the minds of others is practiced. Take a moment and tell someone that they’d made your day better. Instead of speaking when motivated by recrimination, find a way to say something positive. People’s ears become deaf to love when criticism fills the air. We have only so many minutes in a day and attention to spare. Choose, rather than react. Sometimes, in silence, hug unexpectedly, and whisper in the midst of shouts.
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Words fade but attitude invades.
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The longer you wait to tell someone an uncomfortable truth, the harder it is to be open the next time you want to. Someone who loves you will respond with hurt, but that hurt will be tempered by eventual acceptance. And if not? They have a disparate image of who you are than you do.
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If you’re in an unequal relationship, and most are, you might as well open yourself and crowd them; the end is as certain as the curtain on Broadway. Take your swing and crowd the plate. Living loosely is a great idea but a terrible way to survive.
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Rare is the couple in which one prefers to dance and the other to sit. They exist and if you’re in one, relish it if it has lasted. But if your partner won’t dance for fear of looking foolish, they’ve placed appearance and decorum over you.
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Love is foolish and its demonstration is seldom appreciated by onlookers; those dancing don’t count the eyes or ears observing them.
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Someone smart said, “Faults are thick where love is thin.” If you find yourself listing grievances, you’ve allowed your inability to honestly communicate to sever a significant part of your intimacy.
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“Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve” is a great example of something that sounds reasonable while simultaneously belying the fact that we are emotional creatures disguised as thinking adults. Look around. We admire smart people who care enough to not care about how others interpret their sentimentality. Those people feed my soul. I think they do yours, too.
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“I would love you more IF” is a thought that should warn you that either you need to work on yourself – or the unstated expectations of your relationship.
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I learned something about myself. If a person can tell me his or her worst secrets, my capacity to love and appreciate them blossoms. If the opposite is the case, it’s very difficult to navigate misgivings as they arise.
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We protect nothing by failing to reveal who we really are.
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The best truths are written in dirt. The best voices are broken. And the kindest souls have learned to turn off their judgment when others fail them.
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Finally, one that is not mine, and I’m sharing it as I found it:
“You sit in sh!t too long, it stops smelling.”
Love, X
Is This A Poem?
I sat on the warm ground, watching the sky grow dark. August had come, filled with angry heat, absent rain, and upset souls. The virus had surged, melting away hope for a return to the normalcy of a troubled world. I whispered your name into the encroaching shadows and silence. Around me, the insects awoke and did the same, speaking their alien language in accompaniment. Until the mosquitoes made their appearance, there would be a pleasant truce between human and insect. I silently sat, struggling to count the emerging stars against the luminescence of the city reflected in the sky, With each appearance, I wished there was a way to find my spotless mind. Because that quiet peace eluded me, I remained seated in the tall grass, knowing that tomorrow’s obligations were racing toward me. My secret place is near a busy road lined with scented honeysuckle. No one could see me as I sat. And I saw no one, except for my own solitary soul. There was room in the grass for more than one. But for now, it is just me, wishing it were not so. Of course, there is hope for tomorrow. Each of us has an unannounced last day and few of us know that during that day, our feet will grow motionless and the future grinds to a halt. It’s why I lingered in this grass, my heart whispering bittersweetly to itself. In the air, honeysuckle. In my heart, a smaller jar of time pulsed with one less firefly. Still, I smiled. Though the moment was unshared, it was mine.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 