turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey turkey

... and the chaos begins.

Sarah's parents arrived while we were still into he shower. Sarah's Mom seems happier than before, a little more relaxed than I remember seeing her. She just getting over being sick for quite a while. Kidney stones, and infections, and dehydration and a whole cornucopia of unwellness. SO maybe she's just on a "feeling better" high. -found out later that she was on Oxycodone the whole time... she could have at least shared.

There's a tension between her and Roger, Sarah's Dad. It's almost a visible line pulled tight between them.

I know that the past months have been hard for him. Very hard. The past year maybe even.

He lost his job when the factory closed. Wasn't able to find work, not for lack of trying, i'll attest to that. And ended up on disability. But medicare hasn't kicked in yet, and even when it does it's going to leave a lot left over.

And he's been told time and time again that he's not insurable.

Add to that the incompetent doctors that Margie has, and her utter -nearly religious- devotion to their folly.

I admire him imensely for staying sane thus far: I don't think I would have been able to.

And Sarah is stressed, and she gets... well short... when she is stressed. Kinda rude even sometimes. It's hard to stay angry at her for it though. When the frenzied fog lifts she's sorry, and harder on herself than any guilt trip I could lay down.

So you've got these three, as well as Ashley, all in our little kitchen. And Ashley is like the catalyst in a reaction that you really don't want to take place. She hasn't quite figured out how to talk and do anything else at the same time. And she hasn't quite picked up the "not talking" skill yet. Her monologues are never ending.

So either Sarah or I are constantly telling her to "stop talking, start eating", "stop talking, start getting dressed," stop talking, start brushing," "stop talking and get in the car," "for heaven's sake stop talking and remember to breathe!"

Sarah didn't loose it though, kudos to her for that. And at about a quarter after 9:00 I took Ashley to church for the dress rehearsal. Leaving Sarah, her Mom and her Dad at home with the turkey. And now i'm a little nervous about that.

It gived me an hour in fellowship hall w/ my coffee and 2 slices of cranberry bread though.

Enough time to jot down the day thus far....

The children's program was honestly fun. Does that mean I'm old?



We were the featured family this week, so all three fo us stood in front of the church while a little piece about us was read.

It was our internet coming out. The first time we have really confessed that to more than our closest friends that we met online.

Oh, there were a couple little bumps in the pageant. When Ashley was trying to adjust the mic in the middle of the hshow she smacked herself on the lip. She held it together for a good 5-10 seconds before running off the stage to us in the pew crying.

But before the end of the song her tears were wiped on my shortsleeve, her nose was blown in a slightly used kleenex, and she was back onstage.

We got home, I carved the turkey, Sarah's Mom made stuffing, Sarah made her famous mashed patatos, and steamed veggies, and we all sat down to a veritable feast.

I ate enough for three meals, maybe more.

We opened gifts, and Sarah's parents took off a little after 4:00.

We watched Star Wars and then the Simpsons, and then Desperate housewives.

Wow, we're lazy lazy bums. And now I can't believe that the weekend is over alread...

Raymond says "wal-mart sucks"

We slept in until 8:30 today. Over slept. Ashley was already up playing Tony Hawk.


She made her own completely green character. We had to rush to get Ashley to her 9:00 church rehearsal for the Christmas pageant tomorrow. Sarah took her in, picking up Anna on the way.

Then Sarah came home, we showered together. After the shower we called Mom and Andrew to get ideas for Christmas present, and took off on our errands.

First to Wal Mart. We didn't really want to go there, but the girl that we picked for the giving tree wanted clothes with the Olsen twins, and you can only get those at Walmart. We told ourselves that we'd just get that one thing and get the heck out before the evil seeps into our skin like old ink.

The problem is that things are really cheaper there. Undeniably so. We found the coffee maker for my Mom at $20.00 less that the same coffee maker elsewhere.

We picked up Ashley and Anna from the church at 11:00. The original plan was to drop me off at this point. I was going to stay at home and write a little, spend some time in relative silence with my Mac in the basement. While Sarah took the girls to Toni's too look at some discounted stamps or something.

But i got talked into coming along. Somehow I always do... oh poor me... gnash gnash... oh the ashes....

Sarah promised to keep is at 10 minutes or under. At 11:30 she left me sitting in the car.

I don't mind it much though. Silence becomes a tangible, almost medicinal commodity at some point

Even the relatively short drive from the church to Toni's was nearly enough to break me. Both Anna and Ashley talking in the back seat. Yes, both talking, not figuratively, literally. They just talk over each other, not waiting for the other to stop. Their conversation wasn't so much a tennis match, it was more like a dodgeball game with at least 12 balls in play at once.

And Sarah talking to me nearly the whole time. "mmm hmmm" and "ya" for my part of the conversation. Not that she was saying annoying or pointless things, I just over loaded at some point.

And beneath it all the radion station I was trying to listen to.

I've been listening to too much 92.1, Air America, lately.

It's a liberal radions tation, and though I usually like it, sometimes it's just rhetoric from the other side of the spectrum,

11:57, they're back... looks like my rhetoric rant is cut short, lucky you. All three of them are talking already, thy doors to the car haven't even closed yet. Here we go....

...the mall was hell. Hell I say!!!! It was so packed, and everyone was so focused on their own frenzied chaos tha all common courtesy wand human communication was lost. And that is hell.

Lunch at 2:00, reheated chili. Scavenge for supper. Jelly on toast and cereal. Why can't all meals be breakfast? Played Star Wars duels with Ashley as I ate.

I'm watchign "the day after tomorrow" w/ Sarah now, and will rpbably fall asleep soon. I should remember to write up a little review of the movie for my group.

jam on my crotch

Jam has got to be about the worst thing that you can spill on your crotch on the way into work in the morning. Well... wait... maybe that's not true. I'm imaging all the things that could be spilled on my crotch and I can readily come up with some that are worse.

But it's annoying all the same.

I had my microwaved eggs and toast breakfast in the car again.

Work was work... isn't it always?

Home by 4:00, Sarah had Janet and the girls over. After they left we went out to pick up a few groceries. We stopped by Hollywood video and picked up Tony Hawk for the XBOX, and Taco John's for supper. Watched Joan of Arcadis (star trek was a re-run). After we put Ashley to bed we watched en episode of 6 Feet Under.

I fell alseep near the end, but once I was upstairs I started coughing. All night long I kept waking myself up hacking up phlegm. Today (i'm writing this the next morning) I'm tired and phlegmy. I can taste it running down the back of my throat...

eggs and toast

Today I had eggs and toast for breakfast. I didn't have time to eat it at home, so I put it in a Tupperware and took it with me. For lunch, I packed a bologna and lettuce sandwich. A bunch of oranges, 5 total i think. I'm trying to O.D. on vitamin C, my cough is worse and my throat still hurts.

Work was work. isn't it always? Sitting at a desk 'til my ass falls asleep. Then I walk around, maybe to the drinking fountain and back. And then I sit back on my ever spreading ass again. I don't have scheduled breaks. I could take them if I wanted, but it seems pointless, they just make the day longer.

Sarah stopped by on her way home from work and we went to Hollywood video to get a gift for Greg and Melissa. Then I went back to work for the rest of the day.

Worked until 5:00, Sarah had chicken noodle soup ready for me when I got home.

Went to bed early, hopefully sleep will help me feel a bit better.

I'll try harder

I'll try harder I have done you all a disservice. I have let you, my faithful readers down. errrrmmm.... wait, I have no freakin’ faithful readers ! (you don't count Sarah).

Oh well, let's just pretend that I do for a moment... a willful suspension of disbelief as Professor Dorgan would say.I'm going to make a concentrated effort to write on this thing a bit more. I'm not ready to give up yet. Here's the chief problem. I like putting pen to paper.

There just isn't an electronic equivalent to that subtle but addictive joy of scrawling black ink across a clean white page. The closest I've ever come ot that joy was peeing my name across a snow bank when I was 11. So even when I make entries here I have the tendency to write them down first. And let's be honest, this blogger won't be around forever. My journals will. Or at least until I accidentally burn this whole world down with innate pyrokinetic abilities.

But I'll try. Just as a warning my entries will probably be a lot more mundane and boring. But let's be honest, they weren't exactly stellar to begin with anyway. So starting tomorrow (ya ya ya... procrastinate this you pine scented bastard) I'll try to enter at least something every day.

the next chapter

It's not just "like" I'm starting a new chapter in my life. I AM starting a new chapter in my life. If you were writing a book about me you'd be looking for a cliffhanger, some unanswered question to pull the reader into the next portion. And very soon you'd be ending the paragraph with a big chunk of blank space before the bottom of the page. And you'd be typing "Chapter 5" on the next page. Or maybe I'm not up to 5.... or maybe I'm well past 5, I don't know.

As of Monday I'm not "Christopher the trainer". I won't be ushering in a new group of 20-30 trainees every 6 weeks. Won't be spending 8 hours a day with them, training them to do the job they were hired for, and trying my damndest, in my own subversive way, to teach them a little bit about bigger things as well. And maybe, against policy, even if it was unwritten policy, make the whole 6 week ordeal fun as well.

wake up

Goldfinger - Open your eyes

Today is the last night of my class. My last night as a trainer over all. My emotions are so mixed. I know that to be too content is to be too comfortable, is be be stagnant is to be dead. I do believe that when we quite trying new things, quite putting ourselves in uncomfortable situations, we quiet growing as well.
I think that I'll probably write enough about my change in jobs over the next few days or weeks.

Instead, as I'm listening to this song, I'm thinking how timely it is. It's not a recent song, I don't, think so at least. Hold on a second... "go google go!" It came out in 2002. 2 years into the Bush/Cheney reign, so maybe it's not such a coincidence that it fits so well today.

Open your eyes To the millions of lies That they tell you everyday
Open your mind To the clever disguise That the advertisements say
How do they know What's good for you?
Wake up, wake up, whoa Wake up, wake up, whoa
A shot to the head They're better off dead
Will you wake up, wake up, whoa
Destroy all the land And kill what you can Just to make the profits rise
Sell you from birth For all that you're worth
The money spreads like lies
And how do they know What's good for you?
Wake up, wake up, whoa Wake up, wake up, whoa
A shot to the head They're better off dead
Will you wake up, wake up, whoa
Don't wanna hate youDon't wanna blame it all on you
I'm out of options
If you don't look I'll force you to
If you don't look I'll force you to
If you don't look.. I'll force you to
Wake up, wake up, whoa Wake up, wake up, whoa A shot to the head
Just so you can be fed
Will you wake up, wake up, whoa
Open your eyes...
Open your eyes

-Later-
I broke my fast. What was that 3 Thursdays? 4? I didn't make it too long. It wasn't even that I needed to eat. I wasn't that hungry, and I broke my ritual for one slice of crappy pizza. Maybe that's why I quite though. I lost sight of the point. Today for instance, it was 2:00 before I remembered it was my day to fast. And I hadn't eaten anything anyway. And I think I learned my lesson, I probably knew it before anyway. We are such a food centered society. On the Thursdays that I swore off food, and I was a little more hungry than usual, I noticed it more. There's food everywhere. Restaurants every couple of blocks, half of TV is about food, and it's really all people talk about. Going one day a week without eating really wasn't so hard. Maybe I should try another experiment sometime and try to go one full day without talking about food. Now that would be hard.