Display by Label: Ho_Hum

And God said, "Yea, do not be proud or boastful about your good and plenty space. For verily I say unto thee, no matter how much of it you have, there will never be enough room in your bathroom to put all your bathroom shit. And so you will need to find other, less convenient places to put some things. And yea, there will be times when you will have to run through your house wet and naked in order to find them. But do not be angry or gnash your teeth. For this is the way of things. And it is good. Because I have made it so."

link to this | comments (5) | File:  Ho_Hum 

I'm bringing back the "mini posts" here in order to say ... I'm joining a support group.

link to this | comments (2) | File:  Pop_Culture  Ho_Hum 

When I told Honey I had posted a video of her carrying that paper across the street, she was like, "Oh, Christ, Dad. What's next, then? Talking about how it seems only yesterday I was this big or carrying around my lost baby teeth to show the neighbors?"

I thumbed the premolar in my pocket. "Of course not!" I said.

The weird part wasn't that Honey, you know ... spoke. It was that she spoke with an English accent. It wasn't exactly a proper, "Received English" kind of English, but it wasn't quite an East End of London, Cockney type of thing, either. It reminded me of the Beatles. She had a sort of nasal thing going on. Like John.

"Is that Scouse?" I asked her.

"'Tis. What of it?"

"Where did you pick that up?"

"It's a long story ..."

Apparently, even though Honey's mom, a Pit Bull, was from North Jersey, her dad, a German Shepherd, Vizsla mix, came over from Liverpool on a cargo ship carrying boxes of Kongs. Honey had spent a few formative weeks with him before he left her and her mom alone under the wood deck of a rairoad house in Queens. Before he left, though, he had taught Honey her ABC's and implanted a bit of Merseyside in her speech.

Honey went on to tell me that she didn't like this trend of mine, posting photos of her. And now videos. She was worried this would all end in some sort of doggy blog.

"I know. I know. You're right. But the strange thing is I don't really care. I just don't get it. I've lost my perspective on this shit. I guess I'm feeling old," I explained. "I mean, listen to this: did you know that the baby on the cover of Nirvana's Nevermind album is now 17 and is close to graduating high school?"

Honey just stared at me blankly.

"Sorry. I'll play it for you sometime. It's a terrible cliché to say this, but the album changed my life. Which probably isn't entirely accurate. It's more likely that my life was changing anyway, and that album just happened to serve as a soundtrack for it. And it's just weird. That baby ... is now a freakin' teenager. Which also makes me realize that Kurt Cobain died 14 years ago. And at some point after that we wound up with Techno. And I'm not sure which of those two things is more tragic."

"Jesus, Dad. Snap out of it, mate. Stop living in the past. Look, here's what I'm saying: You can write about me. Just tell people the real shit, man. You know ... what it's like for me out there on the streets. About my friend Riley who lives across the street and who's a lot of fun to play with and all, but you know—just between you and me—the bloke is a few short of a full bag of goodies, ain't he? Or those Daschunds, Oscar and Woody. Holy crap. Those two take the piss out of me every time we pass them on the street. Their constant name-calling. All I want to do is play and they're all making fun of my ears and asking when I'm going to grow into these feet and shit like that. I think I'll probably eat one of them one day when I'm bigger. Then there's that crazy Italian Greyhound, Lucus, who never says a thing, but looks like he's got all this pent-up sexual frustration, poor thing. You should talk about this shit, Dad. This is real bloody doggy drama, right here in the North Jersey burbs."

"I'll keep it in mind," I said. "You just concentrate on not pulling on your leash, and let me worry about the blog, okay?"

"Whatever," she said, and went back to a rawhide.

Adolescents.

link to this | comments (8) | File:  Music  Ho_Hum  Honey  Age 

Summer is coming, and I'm going away for a little bit. There are a few projects I need to attend to, and even though I've always been of the mindset that I really should be able to do this blog and these other things at the same time, lately this philosophy hasn't been panning out too well.

So I'm going to take this off of my plate and put my energy into these other things for a while. But this isn't a "retirement" message or anything dramatic like that. I still enjoy the hell out of this thing, and I'll definitely be back. I'm just not sure when. Maybe a month or two, maybe all summer. Certainly not longer than that, I hope.

Anyway, I hope you keep me in your reader. And I'll see you when break is over. I'll miss hanging out during lunch. And smoking in the parking lot during Photography. And ... oh, oh! ... I almost forgot ... will you sign my yearbook? Thanks! You're so cool!

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The memes have been flying all over the place lately. And I got hit in the crossfire. Twice. One in each leg ... I've been tagged by Lemmonex and Jeff. But here's the thing ... one of these here memes asks for six quirks and the other asks for seven random/weird things. Together this adds up to ... let's see, carry the one ... thirteen. And there's no way I'm posting thirteen things about myself. Even if I space them out over two posts, it'll still be a total of 13 in a week and, well, that's just ... unlucky. So I've got to throw one more in for good measure. And good karma.

So here we go, six plus seven, plus one. Random/Weird/Quirky. And since we're already on the subject, we might as well start with this one:


Lemmonex didn't post rules to "seven things," so as far as I can tell there is no tag requirement. So I'm going to claim ignorance and go with that. But there were clear rules for six things, as set forth by Jeff. Here they are:

1. Tell about six unspectacular quirks of yours
2. Link the person who tagged you
3. Mention the rules in your blog
4. Tag six following bloggers by linking them
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger's blogs letting them know they've been tagged

Now to tag ... I'm going to make it easy and go with bloggers whose names begin with H or J:

• Hammer
• Hannah
• Helena
• HH
• Jinius
• Joanne

Ya'll have been tagged. Enjoy.

link to this | comments (10) | File:  Things  Music  Ho_Hum  Books  Blog 

In lieu of reading novels, which take far too long and are weighed down with useless things like "character development" and "plot" and "meaning," these days I've taken to reading only short snippets of text that can be inhaled in five minutes or less. I believe there's a term for this condition. What was it again? Oh yeah: brain atrophy. Unfortunately, my five-minute-or-less rule tends to exclude even my own blog posts, so usually I have to wait for others to read them and tell me whether or not they make sense. (Often, it turns out, they don't.)

Lately my taste for "short" has dwindled down to one-sentence powerhouses. They're short and sweet, but they really pack a punch. The great thing about these little text candies is they can be consumed in an instant, while you go about your daily routines. The other day, for instance, I was brushing my teeth and came across this little gem:

FOR BEST RESULTS, SQUEEZE TUBE FROM THE BOTTOM AND FLATTEN AS YOU GO UP.

It's wonderful what this author—who, as far as I can tell, wishes to remain anonymous—manages to accomplish in so few words. The great thing here is the ambiguity, how he leaves so much open to interpretation. Is he referring to this tube in particular, or all tubes, generally? And which end is the bottom and which is the top? Ahh. He never says! And when we "flatten" is this in reference to the tube, or to ourselves? Or something else entirely?

The real question, however, has to do with this concept of "best results." Because it's never explicitly stated: best results for what? Should we assume it's only about applying toothpaste to our brush? Or is this about something more? Maybe the author is suggesting we'll actually have better results in brushing our teeth or fighting cavities if we somehow manage to find the right tube and then squeeze it in the right direction. Or maybe it's broader still. Maybe we will be rewarded with better results ... in life. A better smile, bigger muscles, smoother skin, silkier hair, a longer-lasting erection. It leaves us wondering: is this simply an instruction for extracting toothpaste from a tube, or a mantra for getting more out of life? Certainly context would argue for the former. But why not make it clear then? I'm betting there's deeper meaning here.

And I think you all agree with me.

link to this | comments (2) | File:  Ho_Hum 

I sometimes take a break from droning on about my life in order to share with you all some nugget of wisdom I've learned about subjects ranging from grilling to hanging drywall. It's because I'm not selfish when it comes to knowledge and I see the sharing of it as a sort of public service. So in honor of tax day, which is coming up, I thought I would finally publish my time-tested method* for getting my taxes done on time and in order. It might be too late to put these lessons into effect for your 2007 taxes, but it's the perfect time to start thinking about 2008!

Step 1: Plan Ahead

It's important to start your tax planning early! So this first step is crucial, and it's honestly the bulk of what you need to do. So if you get this one down, you're pretty much set. Here it is: beginning on April 16th, right after you file your previous year's tax return, go ahead and completely ignore your finances until sometime in early March of the following year. This is harder than you think. Obviously, you will still need to pay your bills, and watch your bank balance. You know, to ensure you don't go bankrupt. The trick, however, is this: as you're spending and depositing money, you want to make it as hard as possible to figure out exactly where any of that money came from or where it went.

There are a variety of ways you can do this. Let me tell you a few of my techniques, just to get you started. First, if somebody pays you money, just deposit it without making any record as to why you received it or who gave it to you.

Second, try scattering your check stubs and receipts haphazardly, in various locations around your house. The less rhyme or reason, the better. Leave a few in your car glove compartment. Or in the pocket of a coat you only wore once. Or—my personal favorite—the bread-box.

Try putting an uncashed check somewhere you'll never look.

Oh, and here's one that works well for me: instead of writing down payments you make in some sort of paper-based or electronic register, just file them in your brain, where they are sure to remain for about as long as it takes you to drink a cup of coffee.

I'm sure you're thinking, "This is so much info! How am I supposed to remember all of this?" I know it may seem like a lot to absorb all at once, and right now it may not seem very intuitive. But believe me, once you get the hang of it, you'll find it gets easier and easier.

Step 2: Keep it Interesting

Nobody likes doing a boring tax return. And nothing says "boring" like staying in one place. That's why I've recently added this step to my usual bag of tricks. But it's not for everybody. If "plain vanilla" tax returns are your thing, you may want to skip this part. But if you're looking for a little something different, I've found you can really spice things up by living (and doing business in) at least three different states throughout the tax year. And if you're really feeling adventurous, go ahead and buy a property in one of those states and then sell it. You know, just real quick-like. Just buy it, and live in it for a month, and then sell that sucker. It's kind of a rush. And don't forget to adhere to the principals outlined in Step 1 while conducting all business. I can't underscore enough how important that first step is.

Step 3: Be Productive

Starting in early March, start looking for ways that you can be productive without actually doing your taxes or anything else related to your finances. This will make you feel great about all you're getting done, and will trick your brain into forgetting the important stuff you're neglecting, thereby halting any annoying anxiety that could develop. It helps if you have a real business project to work on, as this will give your procrastination purpose. But in lieu of that, you can also try doing busywork or running errands that are under no time crunch whatsoever. For me, blogging works nicely. But feel free to stretch your creative muscle here. The key is to feel productive while completely ignoring the impending tax day.

Step 4: Stay in Good Mental Condition through Proper Diet

By late March, you may find it harder and harder to ignore the looming date. And your efforts at being productive might not have the same mollifying effect. So at this point, it may help to begin consuming large amounts of alcohol. There's no strict formula here, but basically you want to try to drink more than you normally would. So, for instance, if you consume, let's say, two beers a night, try doubling that. And adding a shot. Or if you're usually a cocktail-with-dinner type of a person, try two cocktails. And a glass of wine. If you don't drink at all, you will need to start light and work your way up. I recommend picking up a bottle of Rumpleminze. It's sweet and minty-fresh and goes down (somewhat) easy, but it contains twice the alcohol content of other liqueurs. Therefore you can be pleasantly shnockered and entirely kissable at the same time. Which brings us to Step 5.

Step 5: If Necessary, Seek Help from Friends

Sometimes alcohol alone is not enough to keep our minds off of an important task. So another thing that can work just as well, or even better, is to engage in as much sex as humanely (or inhumanely) possible. Admittedly, this step isn't for everybody. If you're married, for instance, you'll probably have to rule this option out altogether. But sex can be a great alternative if you don't drink or do hard drugs, or if you do but they're just not working anymore. Depending on your level of anxiety, it may help to have sex with multiple partners, either at separate times or simultaneously. Just don't forget to practice safe sex!

Step 6: Focus

One morning in late March or early April, wake up in the middle of the night sweating. It would help matters immensely if you could try to have one of those nightmares where you suddenly realize you forgot to study for an exam or you're about to sing the National Anthem at Yankee Stadium, but you forgot the words ... and you're naked. Dreams are hard to produce precisely, so don't worry if you can't get this exactly right. The important thing is that you wake up in a panic. Then, you should irrationally exclaim several consecutive curse words, forming a sentence that makes absolutely no sense to anybody, and begin rifling through every file you have in search of receipts, check stubs, or hell, anything that has numbers written on it. During this process, you'll want to make sure you know the expressions, "Where the fuck could that have gone?" and "God-dammit, next year, I will be better about filing this shit." Go ahead and pick a room and then throw everything you have found on the floor. With that done, it's time to take a break and grab a bite to eat. You'll need your strength for what lies ahead. Be sure not to drink alcohol or have sex. These steps, while fun, are now over. It's now important to maintain a certain level of anxiety to help get you through the next several days.

Step 7: Consult a Higher Power

After eating, go back into the room where all the papers are now scattered. Choke back the fear and dread you have swelling in your stomach (otherwise known as "vomit") and while standing amongst those papers, tilt your head to the ceiling and pray to God to get him to turn all of this crap into something you can actually file to the IRS. If you're Catholic, or just feeling Catholic, you might want to go ahead and ask forgiveness for all the indulgences you've engaged in over the last year. You can try crying if you want, but in my experience, God usually ignores tears in this particular situation. Unless you're Baptist. Then crying is encouraged. But be careful ... this whole step could prove rather risky for you. You might be better off not mentioning Step 4 or 5 to God because he might strike you down on the spot. Keep in mind, this whole process could take as many as five or six hours, and there's only a slight chance God is actually going to help you. Still it's worth a try. Because if he does, it'll keep you from having to complete Step 8.

Step 8: Dirty Work

As April 15th approaches, don't expect to engage in anything resembling rational thought or speak in your natural-born language. For this period of time, you will have to think about these things called "numbers." And you will have to make sense out of them. You will have to dig up records of these numbers and be able to prove that they existed. Chances are you will be un-showered, unshaved, and you might develop a faint stink. You may remain this way for several days, so you should prepare anybody close to you so they are not shocked, horrified ... or made ill. Occasionally, you will revert back to Step 7 and plead with God to end your misery. You will certainly cry. But do not worry. This is completely normal and means you've done everything up to now correctly. Throughout this final step, you will feel an irresistible urge to re-visit Steps 4 and 5. But this would be a terrible distraction. And besides, with the way you look now, you would run the risk of being arrested. There will be plenty of time for all that next year. For now, you've got to plow through this shit, brother.

That's it! When you've completed these eight steps, you will be tired and you might have difficulty remembering your name or how to chew food. Therefore, you may want to sleep for a few days ... and rest easy knowing that next year you'll have the opportunity to do it all over again.

* Warning: I'm not a CPA or any other form of accounting professional, so any advice I have to offer in regard to matters of finance could actually do you physical harm.

link to this | comments (6) | File:  Taxes  Ho_Hum  Finances 

I'm taking a brief, week-long hiatus from this blog and from (almost) everything digital. Because I feel the need to re-group a bit. And to re-assess and to commune with others and with nature. And to be the "live and in person me" full-time for a bit.

And so I will be unplugged at an undisclosed location and will be interacting with other real-live people. And I will spend most of my time outside. And instead of a computer, I will carry a notebook and a pen. And I will read words written on paper and bound together in these things called "books." And my one digital crutch will be my camera, so I can take lots of photographs. Email will be ignored.

I should have much to write about when I return and lots of photos to share. In the meantime, now's your chance to peruse the archives. Or make your own content!

link to this | comments (0) | File:  Ho_Hum 

On a recent trip back to DC via Baltimore, I asked Mat if he thought there was a difference between the "Blog Me" and the "Live and in Person Me." His response was immediate and it kind of surprised me: "I think the 'Live and in Person You' is much more quirky." I took it as a compliment, though I had the uneasy feeling that it could really go either way. I can always count on Mat for ambiguity.

The question of the "self" I'm portraying here is one I've been thinking a lot about lately. And it's one of those "crises" that people who blog tend to go through and it's a very boring sort of crisis to have, I know, and I'm a little embarrassed to be going down this road, frankly. But I've done it before. Several times, actually. And I'll probably do it again. So whatever. Deal. This one has a pay-off though, because it involves You!

More and more, You are meeting me for the first time through the words I write here, and not through the words I speak in everyday conversation. Which means that, for many of You (or Yous, as they say here in Jersey) Your entire perception of me is through my writing ... and the occasional strange photo I post of myself. You've never heard my voice. Or seen the manner in which I speak, my facial expressions, my tone, the way I laugh at a good joke. The slouched, cross-legged way I sit in a chair. The way I move my jaw back and forth or tap my teeth together when I'm thinking about something. Like what I'm doing right now, for instance. You don't know about these things. Or rather, You do now. But only because I told You about them. And there's a difference, isn't there, between the "book knowledge" sort of knowing that you get when I tell you I do these things versus the "familiar" sort of knowing you get when you experience those things for yourself. But at the same time, You know a side of me that people who have known me all my life (but who don't read this blog) don't know. You hear a different sort of voice here. Still me, but probably different from my "live" voice.

And so I imagine in knowing that blog voice, it kind of makes me like a character to a lot of You, a character in a very elaborate fiction, a fiction complete with plot lines and a cast of secondary characters all firmly and self-consciously rooted in my own life. And so the real difference between this sort of "fiction me" and the "non-fiction" me is in the words not written. The stuff I, as narrator, leave out. And that makes me deeply flawed and unreliable as hell. And who knows, maybe that's why You like me.

But here's the scary thing: even I'm beginning to see myself this way—as a character. It's partly out of necessity, because sometimes it helps to have that distance there so that I can put the stuff down that I want to put down and ignore the surrounding din of Audience, and that cowering internal voice telling me don't say that. But the problem is that if I'm the character AND the narrator, well, let's face it: I'm kinda fucked. Talk about an existential crisis. I mean, how can I have any kind of objectivity or, for that matter, any kind of subjectivity? How can I exist? Will I suddenly dematerialize? Will I one day only exist online? Will I only exist to You. I guess in one sense the answer to these last couple of questions is: "Eventually, yes." But what about now?

I recently read Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis in which the main character of the book is "Bret Easton Ellis." The character Ellis is also an author and has many similarities to the real Ellis, except that he's a character ... in a piece of fiction. I kind of love that idea. And I think it relates nicely to the act of blogging, though I'm sure that's not what Ellis was intending.

Anyway, I watched this BBC interview Ellis did in October 2005 following the release of Lunar Park. The whole thing is pretty good, so if You have some time, take a look. But here's the part I liked the most: In talking about the success of American Psycho, Ellis says:


That last sentence is the kicker. Once a book or blog or character is out there, we have no control over it. And if that blog is mine? And that character is ... me? Holy shit. I'm screwed. I always hoped I'd be saying this under different circumstances, but ... I am completely in Your hands. And since we're still in the lingering twilight hours of Web 2.0, and user-generated content is apparently all the rage, why don't You leave a comment and at the same time satisfy my narcissistic curiosities by answering the same question I posed to Mat: Is there a difference between the "Blog Me" and the "Live and In Person Me?" I'm afraid without the answer to this question, I might cease to exist altogether. So Your very participation is crucial to my survival. I'm hoping that maybe even a few lurkers will comment, though I won't hold my breath. If You don't know me in real life, make up something. Tell me what you imagine the differences to be. Go ahead ... define me. Today, it's all about You ... talking about me, of course. Let's not forget what's important.

link to this | comments (10) | File:  Ho_Hum  Fiction  Blog 

After a post I made last week in which I linked to HH's blog (careful: adult content), a couple of you wrote to point out that one of the men HH refers to on her site is named "Dave" or "David" and holy crap what's up with that ... Dave? What's C going to think? First of all, let me just say that if I were having an illicit email relationship with a woman, posting a link to that woman's blog from my very public blog, which is read by a good percentage of my friends, a few family members, and—most importantly—my wife, probably wouldn't be a very smart thing to do. That said, you're absolutely right not to put it past me. Because I weren't always known for my smartness.

But look, here's the real point: if I were having an affair with a woman—a heated, sexy-email type of a thing like the one described on HH's blog—I would see to it that under no circumstances would she call me "Dave." I mean, how plain. I'd have to insist on "Ramrod" or "Bronco" or "Meat" or something equally virile.

To clarify, HH was the first person to say "hi" to me after I joined a Ning group called Thirty Something Bloggers (a group which, by the way, I'm increasingly finding should be called "Thirty-Something Female Bloggers.") We had an exchange over ... grits. And even though, as you can imagine, it's extremely difficult to steer clear of sexual innuendo when you're talking grits, I think we kept it pretty tame. I didn't even share with her my fantasy of bathing in grits while watching live grit-wrestling on TV. See?

Curiously, C never once questioned me about HH. Which cuts to the truth of the matter: she knows exactly how improbable it is, this idea of me having an affair. Which is why I thought about letting this one sort of hang out there and leaving a little shadow of a doubt for people. Because for me, people thinking I'm having an affair is a little like people thinking John McCain is having an affair: It seems so unlikely, that it's almost kind of nice for people to think it could be true, if for no other reason than it means people think you're somebody that somebody else would have an affair with. And that kinda makes you want to give people high-fives or something, not publicly deny it.

But back to C ... don't worry about her. I actually have a feeling she might like me to have an affair. That way she'd have somebody with whom she could commiserate, perhaps while the two of them shop for shoes or something.

link to this | comments (15) | File:  Ho_Hum