Notes on the Week

I manged to close my own hand in my freezer one morning while getting the coffee out. Actually happened. Have cut on hand to prove it. No more coffee in freezer; too dangerous.

We got a perfect 11 out of 11 on the potpourri round at Quizzo on Monday because the 10 of the 11 answers were taken directly from the lyrics to "It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" and when I was 8 or so I decided to learn all the lyrics to said song. And I remember them. So that talent finally paid off. After 20 years.

I finally moved the fridge all by myself on Wednesday to tile under it, then got too excited about putting the fridge back to finish that last little spot that I managed to crack a tile in half. That was the second time in one week I've let out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. When I was a kid my mom washed my mouth out with soap. It only happened once, I learned my lesson. I may need to have that happen again, or just get a better thesaurus of cursing. (The best string of curses I've ever uttered was when I got shot in the leg with a paint ball gun by a drunk man hiding in the woods. Same night my steering wheel fell apart in my lap and got duct-taped back together while a cop stared at me. True story.)

Matt Sloan has informed me that I pronounce the word "both" weird. I apparently pronounce it "bolth" while the Southern way to say it is "Bowth" or something weird like that. Now it's my "Yankee" word. Whatever I've lived in "bolth" the north and the south; I'm just an east coaster.

Leslie and I got very excited about pulling out her CD book from the days of high school and college and I have this observation: She defended everything she owned. I mean from "The Other Sister" soundtrack to the SINGLE of Cher's "Believe". Seriously. No shame. It was great. But she also has the whole army of old-school REM so that just brought joy. Fun night. She did also have Sugar Ray.

Doug and I are starting a charity for children with toes growing on their asses. We don't know if this is actually a problem, but we feel the best prevention for Ass Toe Syndrome (ATS) is education and understanding. Won't you donate and help children with ATS? Make checks payable to me.

If you catch me listening to a lot of Ani, Tori Amos, old Liz Phair or Fiona Apple, chances are I want to hit someone or yell. If I'm listening to a lot of Patty Griffin or Innocence Mission then I probably need a hug (like my friend Kristen can attest). Lots of Dar Williams then I'm probably up for anything but may need to play a serious amount of guitar. All of them at once: Probably just went to a Lilith Fair reunion. Or just re-read The Red Tent. FYI.

Blanket Statement

I haven't been posting actual updates in a while and I don't know why. Here's what's been goin' on:

* Slappy went back to the Sloans on Sunday night. I woke up on Monday morning and suddenly had all this time; I was 15 minutes early to work. I miss that little weiner dog. Sometimes.

* I've been terrified to actually start laying the tiles. I get this "Holy crap Jane spent a lot of money on these and you better not screw this up, Spooner" feeling and then I freak out. But I finally got over that and thus the tiling has actually begun. It looks really good so far. Hopefully all the full tiles in the hall and dining area will be laid by the weekend. Gulp. Since I've only been working on this project for what feels like, oh, 9 years.

* July 4th: best one ever. Hands down so much fun. BBQ at Clark and Nancy's (luckily missed the water balloon fight) but ate lots of grilled American awesomeness and drank from a small keg of Pisgah's Pale Ale, which is the best of the local ales (though French Broad's 13 Rebels is the best ESB and Green Man's IPA is off the hizzy) before they had their own little fireworks show. Right before dusk we headed down to Adam's warehouse/shop in downtown where we all climbed out onto the roof and watched the fireworks. We were so close the booms were setting off the car alarms around us. After the fireworks most people cleared out but Margarita, Johnny, Yeatman and I stuck around til way too late, playing darts and talking over each other.

* The night before Johnny and I had headed out to Black Mountain to watch "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" as it was screened in the backyard of a mutual friend's house. Sitting in lawn chairs, drinking a Sam Adams Summer Ale, watching a favorite movie: priceless. Then we went to a campfire with friends and stayed up much too late laughing and eating roasted brats.

* Quizzo on Monday: I got in an argument with the MC about Martha Washington's maiden name. Seriously. And I won the argument. If only Mr. Gillespie could see my mad US History skills now he would have just given me a blanket A in AP History all those years ago. (By the way, it's not Custis like everyone thinks. That was her first husband's name. It was Dandridge.)

Blindfolded and Packin' Heat

I haven't been posting much lately, so most of the posts I do manage to get off are a spray of gunfire at the side of a barn; hitting and missing with equal ferocity. And thus I load and fire.

• Murphy and Caroline came down this past weekend for an extended stay and a Bad Idea Girls reunion. Things we learned:

We love to eat. Constantly.
We also enjoy quality beverages
Murphy is funny without trying
I have a molester cat that lives in my house
I steal the covers.
Muffin Top is in Tennessee

We visited Jack of the Wood, Heiwa Shakura, The French Broad Chocolate Lounge, Laughing Seed, Sunnypoint, Mayfel's, Barley's Taproom, Asheville Brewing Company, French Broad Brewing Company, Dirty Jack's, The Thirsty Monk, among many other stops. Wow. I can't tell you how I love those girls. They make living fun. They are so many of the best parts of life. And so what if we aren't necessarily good at darts, and Caroline is still bitter she didn't get to go to high school with Heath Ledger like Julia Stiles did in “10 Things I Hate About You”. It was a weekend so necessary for me—I needed a time of hosting and laughter. I don't feel like I've had enough of it lately. Gunticles. Giggle.

• Saturday night I was sitting in Dirty Jacks with Chuck, Kelly, Caroline, Murphy, Sara C, Margarita, Nate, Anthony, Kara, Doug and Patrick talking and laughing and in that moment I fell in love with this place all over again. This is my home, this is where I'm supposed to be.

• My Cranium calendar on Monday was a science quiz: “What word can be made out of the periodic names for the elements Sulfur, Oxygen, Carbon and Potassium?” and I love that Caroline answered it in less than 5 seconds. (Answer: SOCK)

• I have boy drama once again. How does this happen? I don't try for it, I promise. Things seem to be circling around. Just call me angel of the morning, angel. I appreciate honesty, depth, vulnerability and humility more and more. I used to think what I wanted was someone like me, now I believe it may be just the opposite.

• I'm in the process of re-tiling about half of the house. The back bathroom with vinyl tile, the kitchen, hall and other bath with ceramic tile. I love a new challenge and adventure, love honing skills and love an excuse to get another tool. I could be a very good handywoman. I don't feel like I've worked my brain much at all lately, so at least some physical labor makes me feel that at least part of me isn't spiraling toward atrophy.

• Team name “If Clinton Didn't Inhale Why Did He Come to Asheville High?” won the pitcher at Quizzo Monday night. Now I've been doing Quizzo since July and my team never won a team name until last week and winning it this week as well makes us a practical dynasty. Booyah. (for those who don't know, Bill Clinton came and gave a stump speech at Asheville High School on Saturday night as part of his campaigning for Hillary, hence our joke). Shout out to Jane for coming up with the name. I also won my 4^th shout out question. Ridiculous.

• I've been asked to write something and read it in a wedding in September. I've also been asked to consider becoming an officiant and actually doing a wedding in October. Both of these: totally awesome. I adore public speaking.

• Watched “Into The Wild” on Sunday—read the book back in 1998 or so, the movie was fairly true to what Krakauer did in the original text. Story of a boy with too much intellect to recognize when one simply doesn't know what he doesn't know. Sad. One downside of the movie: Eddie Vedder singing. I have never cared for him. Sorry to offend.

Dodge These Bullets

• With the addition of the queen sized bed (thank you Leslie) I bought two new pillows. In other news, I'm still domesticated and mildly boring.

• Our Quizzo team finally won a pitcher for the best team name. This only took 7 months. And before you ask, yes, yes I do have friends. That I don't pay. Much.

• What ever happened to that cute girl from “Northern Exposure” with the mole and who could do that eye brow lift thing? The one opposite Aidan (I'm sorry even 5 years before “Sex and the City” John Corbett was Aidan. He still is. Always will be. That Aidan gets around) up in Alaska? Where the heck has she gone?

• Riding high on the lazy river-like tsunami of confidence from the McSweeney's print, Easter afternoon I got to seriously delve into some writings and I actually finished a short story. “Story” is a loose description, it's really a very stylized monologue from an old woman living on the coast in Maine. I like it, but I'm the only person who has ever read it. Time will tell whether it is any good or just adjective-heavy word vomit. Sometimes I feel like a Chimp playing with his own poop. Some may call it art, others call it “Hey, that monkey is playing with his poop,” while the monkey is thinking, “Wheeee!”. How's that for an artist's statement of purpose.

• Lately I've been stuck on the song “Sons and Daughters” by the Decemberists. I've had this song for over a year, but it's got new life. I heart Colin Meloy. He go wit his nerd self. Only person I know that can use words like “dirigible”, “Legionnaire”, “indolent” and “colonnade” in songs and still sound earnest.

• Friday night I had a very vivid dream that I was thrown into running a trail race that I hadn't trained for. In the dream it was a 7 mile race and I was three miles in and breathing hard. That's when I woke up having an asthma attack. I don't know if the attack spawned the dream or vice versa, but while I wasn't breathing I marveled at my subconscious' imagination. If I'm ever not breathing ask me where my inhaler is and I'll try to tell you. Or just yell “Does anyone have an albuterol inhaler!?” and maybe someone will throw one at you.

• Murphy and Romano: two days. Bad Idea Girls take on the Dirty South. Look for highlights. There will be many I'm sure.

• I got an email from Nat the other detailing how her drive back to her house was interrupted by a cow giving birth on her road. It got out of the fence and was giving birth, right there in the road. That is the part of my hometown that I truly miss. That sort of thing isn't exactly abnormal and part of some of my most fond memories. Being stuck behind cows was a normal excuse for being late to school.

• I don't think I've loved my family more than I do right now. After the McSweeney's thing, I got a voicemail from my mom that said, “It's mom, I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you and I'm proud of you. I love you, bye bye.” I cried a little bit, saved the message and now look forward to having it come up every few weeks. This message is a miracle. A true, heaven sent, blind man can see, deaf man can hear sort of miracle. I am so thankful for it.

• So the question about the obligation of citizenship that you all did a fine job of not answering is becoming an essay on its own. And if its any good and it goes anywhere, I'll make a point to not reference you. No no don't feel like you need to thank me. I know I'm gracious.

• Still don't get the obsession over fancy handbags. Don't get it. It must be how gay men feel about women. Sure they are nice and all but nope, not feeling anything either way.

Conflict Tub, etc

So my friend Nate has a clawfoot bathtub. We tease him about this being a good pick-up line, to the extent that Margarita filled out the back of a Jack of the Wood coaster with the fictional email address ihaveaclawfoottub@ashevillesingles.com that he should create and use.
Several weeks later this once again came up in conversation and I repeated the fake email address. Nate misheard me and said, "I have a conflict tub? What is a conflict tub?" and we just thought the idea of a bathtub in which people sat and had discussions was hilarious.
Last Friday a bunch of us were over at Nate's and thought, "Ooh! Conflict tub!" and four of us raced up the stairs and climbed in. And proceeded to watch on Nate's laptop the Jimmy Kimmel/Sarah Silverman duel about Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. You know what I'm talking about I hope. Anyway, photos:

Tuesday Notes

• New Years was insane. But even being in the same room as Margarita, Rita and Jane seems to make everything better, so of course it was. And then there was this South African UN Pilot that played into the whole thing but that's what I'd like to call a side story.
  

• All of YL staff is currently in Orlando at the All-Staff conference, which is why I am currently watching Slappy and Homer, which means our little house has a pack of dogs running through it this week. Whoa boy.

• One of my favorite things about living in Asheville is breathing in the same air as some of the most creative, passionate and kind people I have ever met—people who believe creativity is not a hobby, but a lifestyle. I love this. It makes me feed my creative side, which very often has a serious case of stage-fright. When did a fear of rejection and failure override my sincere desire to simply create?

• Joe Gibbs resigned as head coach of the 'Skins yesterday. When he returned to the 'Skins in 2004 it was the closest thing I've ever experienced to Christ's return, and I say that without any sort of exaggeration or irony. I was at my dad's house and we watched the news on every channel, just to hear it be said again. Then we pulled out the VHS of the 'Skins Super Bowl run of 1992 and watched it. Ok, so I'm a bit of a fan. Whatever. To say I'm upset to lose him again is a bit of an understatement. I hate the owner of the 'Skins, so I can't wait to see how he messes this one up.
  

• Dear Seattle: I sort of hate you. For the second time in 3 years you knocked us out of the playoffs. Take your strong coffee, computer programs, fairy boats and grunge music and shove it. Your “Real World” season sucked.

• I won another t-shirt on a shout-out question at Quizzo on Monday. It was about the Wyoming primary, which no one paid attention to as it was only for the Republican side. I paid attention because of the presidential drinking game I have going on with about 12 people from college. Mixing politics, competition and drinking is a wonderful idea. Booyah. Drink for freedom, bitches.

Junk, Stuff, Other

So our Quizzo team came in 2^nd place Monday night. That is the highest we've ever scored, and we won $20 in gift certificates. Go us. Though Jane and I have decided we should call it Quizz-O 210 (like 90210 only more Ashevillian) because of the drama that seems to occur with the group of regulars we have. And unfortunately by drama I mean it is usually concerning me. Crap.

Yet another thing I learned from the party on Saturday: “Loose lips sink ships” and if that's true there's an admiral out there who is pissed off at me for sinking his entire fleet. I have no filter about myself. Not good. So if I told you something on Saturday that sounds like it may be one of my own personal secrets, zip it friend. Thanks. Yup, never running for public office or joining the FBI. Whew.

Another song to never play at a wedding: “Nasty” by Janet Jackson

The other night I had a dream in which Ronald McDonald was sitting on top of a refrigerator in a tiny basement apartment playing the pan flute while I sang “Forever in Blue Jeans” by Neil Diamond. I can assure you I was neither on drugs or drunk when I had this dream. Something may be seriously wrong with my subconscious.

Yesterday my mom excitedly called me to tell me she had big news about two of my friends getting engaged. I told her I knew, that I'd actually helped with some of the planning of the proposal; that they'd called me the next morning. She seemed very disappointed that she couldn't provide gossip about my own friends, both of whom she doesn't actually know. Well done Mom, well done.

So all five of the kids are going to be together right before Christmas. This hasn't happened since 2001 and has only ever happened twice. For good reason. I'm bringing the following: (A) a helmet. (B) flask. (C) iPod. (D) camera. And not only will there be the five of us, but one in-law, four small children and my mother. Wow. Callin' Maury Povich, see if he makes house calls.

It's official: I am finally working at J.Crew. Only took a month and a half. Literally. You'd think I was trying to go be professor or a secret agent, but no, just a retail lackey at a clearance store. Start on Thursday.

“The glorious message of Scripture is that we do not have to be perfect for our Maker to love us. All through the great stories, heavenly love is lavished on visibly imperfect people. Scripture asks us to look at Jacob as he really is, to look at ourselves as we really are, and then realize that this is who God loves.” --Madeline L'Engle. I posted this one when she died back in October, but I find it so applicable to my present. There are days when my imperfections and missteps are more glaring and those days have been frequent as of late. It's good to be reminded that even as I am at those moments, I am loved.

CRUSTY CRAB!

I wrote a post about my weekend, (which was original and amazing), but written down it was just sort of boring so I tossed it. I'm feeling repetitive and unoriginal. It's like when your father tells you the same story for the 4^th time; looses its freshness. I went out with friends! Martinis! Adventure! Redskins! Woohoo! That was it. Sometimes brevity peaks out and gives the world a raspberry before it goes back into the chest where verbosity normally keeps it locked up. See? Back to too many words.

So I realized my digital camera was also in my car when it was broken into, so if you thought I didn't post enough photos before...well, now I got nuthin'. Maybe I'll start depicting everything with little dot drawings like they have in the NYT. Or draw events like they do with courtroom painters. Maybe I'll do fingerpainting, Mfers. Oh well, camera was a graduation gift from my father—I needed a new camera, but it had great sentimental value to me. Of course I'm a packrat, everything has sentimental value in my sick sick mind.

Quizzo on Monday: Amazing. Possibly the best team ever. First off I won a shout out question (correct answer: “CRUSTY CRAB!”) so I got a Jack of the Wood t-shirt. THEN by the end of the second round we were in the top 3 teams. After the speed round (we kicked ASS on that one) we were one point from first place. Final round we tied for third—just two points from the winner. For this I blame the following: Kenny Lofton, Ethopia, Friday, Blake Edwards, Road to Rio, James Earl Carter, and all the other answers we got wrong. But that is the highest we've ever finished; go us. Thanks to all who made appearances. Remember: everyone is invited to Quizzo...unless you dated one of us. I've got standards.

I finally finished Mrs. Dalloway. Only took me a good six months to get around to finishing a book that is less than 200 pages, but now I feel like I need to go back and read it quickly; to make it all make sense. That was a dense read. Recommended if one has the time to give attention to every word or phrase as if it stood alone. And really, people were surprised that Virginia Woolf committed suicide? Really? Did they bother to read it? It's like people being shocked that Sylvia Plath killed herself—did ya read The Bell Jar? That's a new list right there: Obnoxiously Obvious Holy Shits. Holy shit George Michael is GAY? Clark Kent is Superman!? Bruce Willis is dead in “The Sixth Sense”!? RuPaul is a MAN!?