Merry… Whatever

Yesterday was the slowest Christmas ever. I slept late, but I wasn’t expecting to hear from Cake Woman until 6pm, so once the Keathlys dashed off to their Christmas day activities I was left alone in the house. Parts of me wanted all day to just get in the car and drive to Wisconsin, but I knew that the only possible outcomes of seeing my father were endless seething or an ugly explosion of pent-up bile. I sacrificed seeing the family that I love to not see that alcoholic and addict.

“I never used when I was around you, I didn’t have to because you made me so happy.”

That’s a lie. That’s blaming me for his addictions. If I would have just been around, he never would have used. I tell you what, I never went anywhere. If he would have been sober for the first nine years of my life he never would have had to leave. He worked the program starting in 1984, but step one was supposed to be admitting that he had a problem.

Cake Woman didn’t call until 8, and then it seemed to be forever before she was placing a pitcher of ale in front of me. I had to fetch a glass from the bar, but they were all out of glassware, so the bartender handed me a plastic cup. I joked that I wasn’t going to tip him and he flipped out, so, uh, no tip for him after all. I returned to my seat between Cake Woman and Sister Nadeau, which slid farther and farther from the conversations as more people showed up and additional tables were annexed. I joked that a nearby table was Kamchatka (of Risk fame), but it quickly became apparent that I was stuck in Siberia. The smokers evaporated from my end and condensed again at the other. Cake Woman was talking to Elise, but with her back to me I couldn’t hear anything over the roar of a bar full of patrons and juke box music.

Dean and Renee had called during the day while I waited, and I mentioned that I had an unexpectedly nice time at my sister’s house in Iowa.

“Was everyone well lubricated?” Dean asked, which is a reasonable question. The holidays are stressful for everyone and booze is glorious. However, the Iversons do not really partake. I had a half of a juice glass of wine and John had considerably more, but overall it was a sober affair with tired adults and happy kids. Ellen practically begged me to stay, but I drove home through thick fog and black night anyway. I had joked over and over again that sleeping in Iowa was like Persephone eating the pomegranite seeds. Before going I had been sure that Ellen had invited me under duress, but she just missed me like I miss her.

So Friday my mom met my girlfriend, Saturday I saw my sister for the second time in a year and a half, and Sunday I spent alone until Cake Woman rescued me and plied me with alcohol — but I was kind of numb all weekend, just coasting through presents and driving. When Cake Woman left for home this morning everything that I had been pushing down and ignoring surged over me. When Melody came on IM late in the afternoon I sort of lost my shit. I talked, she listened, and then I laid down for a while.

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I Could Be Drunk Right Now

So, if I would have gone to Wisconsin, I would have come home reasonably sober. Instead I spent a good part of the evening at Mortimers — but there was no foosball for me. :/

Oh well, so be it, at least I didn’t have to pay for any booze. None at all! Hooray!

Also, I should not forget that I need to record all of Nova.

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There were no pictures of me that I didn’t delete.

Cake Woman was somewhat happy with her Cindy Sherman book.

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Three Kinds of Gravy

If you’re curious, all three gravies turned out okay, but the standalone gravy was apparently too peppery. Okay, I admit it, the second teaspoon of peppercorns was too much, but it seemed like the sweeter spices needed a balance. I should have just used half of the spice blend that I made, or made twice as much of the gravy that I didn’t ladle over the meatballs that Lisa made. In any case, I am starting to rule at this whole roux business. I just wish that I had occasion to cook anything else. I mean, I suppose that I could cook every day, but it’s only on special occasions that I can push everything aside and apply heat to meat, so to speak.

Never mind. It’s time for booze and THE DUKES OF HAZZARD, because I was on my very best behavior all day and it is time to do something that will injure brain cells (unlike all that white wine I was drinking, which is good for your heart. Or liver. Or… FUCK I DON’T KNOW, LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE, I HAVE TO GO TO FUCKING IOWA TOMORROW).

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Duele la realidad. Duele!

I thought that Melody would like this song, so I let her hear it. I know that she likes to read the lyrics, but they are in spanish, so I ran it through google’s translate tools. Then I cleaned it up some more, since I find deciphering stuff fun. Anyway, here you go.


Amores Perros by Control Machete

Suficientes son los problemas de un solo dia
como para preocuparse por el futuro
Olvidamos que para poder llegar al otro lado
Al otro lado
hay que empezar derribando el primero de los muros
Nos pasamos la vida
viendo triunfos y fracasos
conseguidos en tiempo pretérito
Cuantas veces se ha detenido el sol
a mediodia?
Porque ya no quiere vivir mas atardeceres
Cuantas veces?
Porque ya no quiere vivir mas amaneceres
El negro sera de ser negro sin el blanco
El bueno deja de ser bueno sin el malo
Continua repetitiva que constantemente termina
Vuelve a empezar de nuevo da fruto a la semilla
Porque envejeces?, porque tu piel se va arrugando
el paso del tiempo una broma te esta jugando
Sabes que la codicia puede dejarte en la ruina
Quieres solucionarlo?
Borrarlo de tu vida
De perros amores
Borrarlo de tu vida
De perros amores
Borrarlo de tu vida
Si alguna vez
si alguna vez
si alguna vez
si alguna vez
Amanece el alma
atardece en ti
Amanece el alma
atardece en ti
Accion es en real voluntad
sensacion la velocidad
fe e ilusion orgánica
Coincidencia armonica
No existe ningún borrador magico para borrar todos los errores cometidos.
Que pasaria si las flores solo se marchitarán? o solo se quedaran como botones.
Duele la realidad duele
La fantasia solo se queda en los suenos
Que pasaria si nunca muero?
y no tuviera la oportunidad de nacer de nuevo.
Amanece el alma
Vuelve otra vez, aparece
atardece en ti
desapareces te vas y vuelves


Love’s a Bitch by Control Machete

Sufficient they are — the problems of a single day without worrying about the future.
We forgot that to be able to arrive at the other side — to the other side.
it is necessary to first begin by demolishing the walls
Our life passed seeing triumphs and failures obtained in times past.
What times has the sun ever stopped at noon?
Because no longer it wants to live but sets.
What times?
Because no longer it wants to live but dawns.
Black does not exist as black without the white
Good does not exist as good without the white
Continuously repeating that constantly finishes
It returns to begin gives fruit again to the seed
Because you age, because your skin is wrinkled
the passage of time is playing a joke on you
You know that the greed can lead to ruin
You want to solve it?
To erase it from your life
Of dogs loves
To erase it from your life
Of dogs loves
To erase it from your life
If sometime
if sometime
if sometime
if sometime
The soul dawns
It sets in you
The soul dawns
It sets in you
Action is in real will
The sensation of velocity
Natural faith and illusion
Harmonious coincidence
Is there no magic spell to erase all the errors committed?
What passes if the flowers only wither?
Or if they only remain as buds.
The pain of reality, the pain!
Fantasy only remains in the dreams
What passes if I never die?
and I did not have the opportunity to be born again.
The soul dawns
It returns again, appears
It sets in you
You appear you go away and you return

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Merry Christmas

So, it happened to work out that Cake Woman is free tonight, and Lisa invited her over to have Swedish meatballs, because that’s Lisa’s tradition. Now, it also happens that Lisa invited my mom and her husband, and, even though everyone knew who was going to be here, it didn’t quite hit me until I was making my third batch of gravy, because I needed one for the beef meatballs with beef drippings, one for the turkey meatballs with turkey drippings, and a third because I didn’t make enough of the first two for proper ladling over the requisite mashed potatoes. Lisa made all the hard stuff, I just sweated and whisked while freaking out over my mom meeting Cake Woman and Cake Woman meeting my mom. Thank booze for wine!

Theoretically I am wrapping Cake Woman’s present right now, but since I was kind of shaky I thought that maybe I should take a moment to breathe. I get panicky when I cook for other people and when I give presents. At least I bought all the presents I needed before I ran out of money.

Okay, once more into the breach!

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You’re Supposed To Lean The Other Way

I forgot to mention that Cake Woman was ripping ass in the booth and aiming them at me. She’s so very classy!

The part that really makes me laugh is that the other night I let a loud one go for shits and giggles, and she turned to me and said earnestly:
“Whoa, you never fart!”

That statement was so ludicrous that it almost couldn’t be a joke. Have I been holding them that well? Well then, time to let loose and deflate my midsection. It will be nice to wear smaller pants.

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I Give You Three Months

I was having a crappy evening (at least I’m completely done with the semester) until Cake Woman decided that it would be good to go to the Flameburger. Her tall (and oftentimes hilarious) friend Dan was coming too, and Cake Woman said that I would be allowed to break the news that she and I were dating. Apparently we are dating. I found some pants and drove like a bat out of hell to get there.

I had suggested that I find the least appropriate way to let him know, and she had agreed, but I chickened out of my plan to kneel under the table amidst the grease and discarded french fries and orally service her. Instead I just sat on the same side of the table as her and announced that I wanted to sit with my lady. We were awfully cute (or just awful and cute) as we smiled and secretly held hands. I think that Cake Woman had been holding back some stories from Dan — now that I was no longer her secret shame she could reveal that she had related a terrible dream to me upon waking up — with me.

Dan mentioned that his Danly duties have been lightened since I acquired a phone that actually rings when Cake Woman calls. Cake Woman informed him that he should buy me a present for taking over his job. I just rolled my eyes and remembered the late night phone call from a couple of weeks ago where I tried to inform her that I wanted my life to be a Cake Woman-free zone, partly because I did not want to be the new Dan — not that I’m anywhere near tall enough. He’s like six foot twenty.

I had to struggle a bit to keep up with the mountains of inside jokes, and I heard a few things that I only wish that I could unhear, but Dan is good folks, so even though he smoked Camel filters the whole time I was glad to have chatted with him. He told tale of recently hanging out with a friend who fished a week’s worth of cookies out of a Holiday dumpster while passing the doughnuts by, because:
“Fuck doughnuts, man!”

Indeed. That’s how I paid for college this summer.

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Truth be told, I’ve had better semesters.

Current mood: Elliot Smith

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It is snowing in my favorite way outside. Also, on my webpage, unless your browser is no fun. I hope you like snow.

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