House Hunting...

Someone recently (okay, just 4 minutes ago) asked me how the house hunting is going.....Let's see....we've seen mouse droppings, french doors that open out to a beautiful view (and a two story drop straight to the ground), an aquarium built into a wall, a prison door, a crumbling load-bearing wall, lots of jesus and mary statutes, a yard that was paved, a house that smelled like cat pee, Slick Rick the Seller's Realtor, a neon yellow kitchen (which also had two different sets of cabinets, and a washer and dryer in the kitchen, and they just ripped up the tiles), a master bedroom "loft", a "house" the size of 4 outhouses, a bathroom where god forbid you had to stand up quickly from a seated position you would hit your head on the ceiling and knock yourself out.....and a gorgeous place that was bought the exact instant we decided to make an offer....bout sums it up....

So...there I was....walking with a fresh cup of hot tea in my
starbucks cup...you know, the ones with the crappy lid that almost
invites hot-near boiling liquids to escape from the open hole (not
like the dunkin cups which have a locking lid to prevent the
blistering boiling water from leaping on to your flesh--seriously, who
engineered this? Did they not think, hey, what happens when the stuff
inside sloshes around, does it act like a trampoline launching water
furiously about like a fat kid jumping in the bubble castle???? Sure,
Dunkin's says "caution: contents extremely hot" for the special
people that might burn their tongue, but starbucks makes no warning as
to the fact that you are holding a potentially explosive caustic
device)....I digress....where was I, oh yes....as I approached my
arch-nemesis, aka "Jiggle The Secret Knock", aka the door that doesn't
open unless you lift the handle twice and push at the exact instant, I
casually reached for the handle with my left hand...and felt the
sudden calming cool sensation in my right hand, which was quickly
followed by the stinging and burning of reddening skin as I realized
the ejecto-lid had propelled what can only be described as white
phosphorous-like green tea on to my skin, nearly melting my ring to my
fingers. At that exact moment, Jiggle The Secret Knock decided to go
into lock-down mode faster than a future nun on prom night. As I
crashed full bore into the door, shaking the door frame with 200
pounds of intense angry cauterized pain, the magnetic lock still
held....until the tea in my right hand tried to occupy the same space
as said door, resulting in a volcanic eruption of beverage which
catapulted itself into the precise location of a sophisticated
security mechanism whose soul purpose for existence is to prevent
unauthorized users from entering a secured facility. I mean, if
someone could get in to this room, the world might end. We're talking
top secret security. We have non-armed guards on oxygen that might
chase you down, or at the very least hit your car in the parking lot
because they forgot which pedal was the brake and were confused by the
bright light (or, as most of us call it, the SUN) and the loud noises
(driving with the door open). This is the most secured facility this
side of the straw house in the three little pigs story....as the door
still shook from my impact, I watched the tea trickle down in slow
motion....

*Click*

Jiggle the Secret Knock popped open....

At that moment, I uttered "I AM SOFA KING WE TODD DID".....

how to best describe the differences between my last job and this one.....

it's like going from rushhour traffic on 128 when there's 3 accidents, one involving a police officer, when you have to use the bathroom and get to a meeting with the IRS because you are getting audited......to canoeing on the charles on a nice summer day, when the light breeze is perfect, and it's not too hot.....

Dating sucks....we've all heard it...we've all said it. Me, I'm done with it...thank goodness, but I can't help but hear my friends talk about it and think, you know, when we were young, this is how a college date would go....."god, I love beer"..."me too"..."wow, you like beer too?"...and then boom, you have lunch at the dining hall together, walk back to your room with the clinky clanky sound of stolen glasses bouncing around in your pockets..who doesn't love being 18.....suddenly it's been two weeks and you maybe went to the mall together once, but mostly hung out in your dorm rooms and went to parties where you both relished in the joys of death punch hook ups. Then you "broke up", so to get over it, you and your friends went to a party...had some beer.."wow, you like beer"....rinse wash and repeat...Next thing you know, you're out of college, and you're done hooking up. Turning over a new leaf. You're a grown-up now, it's time to really date, to find someone (unless you found one in college and got out early, which is a smart move, because dating is EXPENSIVE and much harder when you can't just hook up any night of the week for free, errr, for free beer)....I mean, there's no more fraternity parties (except when you go back to visit those friends that still haven't graduated because they were younger or were on their 5th...6th...sometimes 7th major--side bar: there's nothing better than the following "DUDE, WHERE"S THE WHISKEY?" "WHY?" "I missed my exam"...."so, call the professor and make it up"..."it was two months ago"......"Kitchen, bottom cabinet, next to the green stuff that might have been spilt beef stew......i'll be home in 20")...Back to dating,post-college....you think "this is gonna suck"....however, we all discover "the bar", "the club", "the usual place"....you're there....drinking.....and viola...it's like college....only with captain and coke, martinis, wasted away in funking slummerville....rinse wash repeat...but before long, those drunk nights fade away, you start seriously looking, only to find that you have a smaller group of friends, everyone knows everyone, most people have coupled up....and fewer people join the group...it gets ever smaller....you wait for that connection to happen...your friends don't know any single men or women, (or just won't introduce you to any of their single friends because they remember that time you did that thing and that was just wrong and you haven't grown up yet enough for their snooty friends....but i'm not bitter)...anywho....you have a career now, so one place where you meet people is at work, but dating at work is a no-no. Just when you think there's no hope of bumping into that someone, you hear about on-line dating. It doesn't have the same stigma it once did (honest). You see, there's tons of people in your position. A bunch of folks in a small circle that no longer branches out and with just WRONG stories of their past that makes them undatable...and unintroducible. To make matters worse, your friends don't hang out at the pubs so much as go out to dinner.... It's different. Can't really walk up to that cute someone at dinner that you might have exchanged looks with while sampling riesling and poached fish, sit down at his or her table and say, "Hi....nice shoes." So, you take the plunge, not telling any one of course (hey, it's still got somewhat of a stigma). At first, you're kinda clueless...A wink here, a wink there, you send an email or two, go on a date, realize you've made a HORRIBLE mistake to go out so quickly. People lie. It's a fact. Dating is like this--first three months is all lies....then you start to get to show your true colors...hence most relationships dying at the 3 month mark, or shortly thereafter. On-line dating, most start with HUGE lies.....So, you make a few oh my god moments, and then you get gun shy. The next time, you take too long to go on a date.....and boom, it dies before it begins. The key is to think of it this way--on-line dating is like going to the bar. Sure, sometimes you have the beer goggles on, but the most important thing is that you can have sober conversations with someone, you can get to know them a little more, to the point where you're almost friends before you even meet. I went on a date with this amazing woman I met on-line. She was and still is awesome. We talked, alot, emailed, alot, had great conversations, shared stories. Our date was at a pub we both enjoyed....we decided to meet up and hang out on a friday night. We both loved music...I showed up with some burned cds (today's equivalent of "i made you a tape", only without the in-between song clicks, the radio djs talking over the beginning or end of the song that you recorded by sticking your tape recorder next to the speaker, and the required cheesy writing and comments and decorations)...She showed up with her sister and her sister's boyfriend. It was like old friends hanging out because we knew each other. It was nice. Fun. The beer flowed, the music played, we got drunk....it was like old times....college days....we danced...we drank...we left...we we're both too drunk to drive and it was too cold out to walk but we couldn't really tell...shoot, i think we might have been too drunk to walk....so, I walked this very lovely woman home.....and there it was...that distinct clinky clanky sound of stolen shot glasses and empty Guinness pints clanging together in our pockets.....it dawned on me then.....maybe nothing has really changed......in fact...it's still the same.....only now, 30 is the new 21.....

Thank goodness I know how to squeeze a nickel so hard so the indian screams and the buffalo craps!

That's a message I got from my cousin....that's all I have to say.....

Well now...the dust has settled.....it seems there was a ternader that hit a nuke-u-ler facility that created a nuke-u-ler ternader that was my life for the last few months (thank you GW for the pronunciation, and J. Raymond for the discussion on GW's pronunciations...and proclomations). So, let us review where we are. First, the blue dress was found, it fit perfectly well, and my lovely fiance was very happy (mind you, I did have to carry it on the T into boston, and I did have a paperbag stuffed with satin/lace/nylon/cotton/velvet/chain mail/etc b/c I didn't know which undergarment she meant when she said the black satin ones)....and, she's recovered from me airing the emails which I will never post again because I love her and respect her.....and it's fair because she promised never to show the video of me getting a beat down by that group of fourth graders. Hey, they had wiffle ball bats...those can hurt you know. I mean, a little duck tape and BAMMO you're taking down a pinata!!! So, the update that I promised. I quit my job. I moved in with Adrienne. I'm starting my new job. We're still in the process of unpacking. I've finally embraced technology and fallen in love with my DVR. HOWEVER, i did learn a valuable lesson about "record series". Make sure it's not on all the time at random times and that it doesn't record ALL episodes. Yes, sure, I missed a few episodes, but I now have 32 hours of Fuse TVs Pants Off Dance Off because it is on like 4 hours a day from like 10-11 and 2-3....(please check this out....www.fuse.tv/pants....it's my new favorite show. It's like watching some guy get hit in the dangerzone by his son hitting the wiffle ball off the batting T...only over and over and over again)....So....two things i've learned about being in a relationship and living together...first....get a calendar. Seriously. You have two busy people and put them together, and suddenly you're double booked every weekend and monday-friday is something else altogether. I thought, hey, living together, it'll make things easier. nope....still crazy. Get used to it. Second....how the heck can two people have use so many dishes, so many paper towels, and generate so much trash? We're going to get a bill from the city soon because of that. Oh...something else....shoes. I have lots of shoes...i buy them on sale and wear them till they are dead. I was fat. Clothes never fit right, but shoes did fit right. I could buy shoes. So i bought shoes. A lot of them. I'm not as fat now. I can buy clothes that fit. I don't buy shoes as often any more mind you, but now my shoes are taking a lot longer to wear out. And now I have lots of them. They are all comfy. They all fit. My future wife has shoes. Lots of shoes. Some she's never worn. Every one was bought while on sale....I'm proud of her. Just one itty bitty problem. "This pair doesn't fit right. This pair hurts. These are sling backs, those aren't good for cold weather. Yes, they're black, but they're SLINGBACKS. Right, those aren't slingbacks, but they're open-toe, so I can't wear them when it's cold. These are wicked cute but they hurt if i wear them more than 10 minutes. I like those but I can't walk in them. I can walk in those but if I have to stand still they hurt....someday I'll have a dress that goes with those...." And yet I live with it, and I love every minute of it. And it's only fair, because, you see, she has to put up with me having this amplifier and that amplifier and that effects pedal and this effects pedal and no, that guitar is for slide, and this guitar has a maple neck and that one has a rosewood fretboard, no, that pickup has a thin sound, that one is thicker, no, that is a recording mic, that one is for vocals...what do you mean the harmonica ended up in the laundry? Yes, I know, you found ANOTHER guitar pick....it was in your corn flakes? My bad...." And the biggest thing that she has learned to tolerate....the fact that I pee change. LOTS AND LOTS OF CHANGE. You can walk anywhere, and sure as Hansel and Gretel left bread crumbs, yours truly has left enough change and guitar picks to please all the out of work musicians in Boston and NYC COMBINED!!!!!!!!!

Publishing this blog has gotten me into trouble.....

anyone think I'll stop though?

MUAHHAHAHAHAH

Marc's Scavenger Hunt continues!!!!

see previous post before reading......you all thought it was over...that the requests were done....oh...how wrong we all were.....


****
2 hours after last message
****
Could you bring my earrings?

If you look at the photo of me in the navy kimono (on my bedside table) you will see the earrings I am looking for.

I believe that they are in the Chinese Pagoda that is on the ladder bookshelf to the left of my bureau.
It has a matching necklace. They are together in a small plastic bag.
They are sort of delicate, just so you know.

I am not sure which drawer they are in... the top of the pagoda opens up...then there are 2 or 3 drawers that you can open once you have opened the small gate at the bottom of the pagoda.

If for some reason they are not there... check the pink jewelry box, then the blue jewelry box on my bureau.

Thanks! You are the best!

XOXO

****
15 minutes later
****
I brought the wrong bra... can you grab the black lace one that has a criss-cross (x) holding it together in the front. It is in the top drawer of my bureau. If you can't find that one...grab the black satin one that dips low in the front.

Thanks!!!!!

I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

PS Don't kill yourself looking for anything except the navy dress, the earrings, the shoes and the bra.

****
Me: My life is over....

This is the relationship stuff everyone goes through but doesn't tell you about. This is a conversation over email between my fiance and I.....enjoy....i didn't put her name there in order to respect the not so innocent....

Kiefer, will you please announce it..

"This conversation takes place between the hours of 1 and 4 pm on Friday"

******

I was just thinking... would you bring the navy dress (the kimono one from the photos) and the silver strappy heals (on the back of my bedroom door, bottom right) for tonight?

Thanks!

***

ME: where is the navy dress?

***

That dress should be hanging on the back of my closet door. it is under several other hanging items... look at it, before you take it. I think that I dry cleaned it recently, but am not sure. If it doesn't look clean, let me know...if you are not sure, bring the black dress and my tuxedo jacket. too.

Thanks!

What time are you planning to go to my house?

****

ME: Where's your tuxedo jacket? Not sure I've seen that. I'll double check your blue dress though... will the silver shoes go with the black dress too?

****

I brought the shoes for the black dress just in case. I think that the navy one is dressier though.

The Tuxedo Jacket is in the closet on the left hand side. You are going to kill me, but the top that goes under it is a black satin tube top that is in the armoire (1st or 2nd shelf on the right hand side) or on the chest under the window.

Are you ready to kill me yet? We could end up with a photo somewhere you know. ;0)

****

ME: i'm just picturing the 4 bags i'm bringing with me on the T....

****

No bags.. ;0)

Hopefully just the navy dress on a hanger and 1 pair of silver shoes...I only need the other stuff if you think that the navy one is not clean. I am pretty sure that it is... Hope it still fits! :0)

I won't go upstairs until 5:30 pm...feel free to call me if you are home before then.

XOXO

---82 minutes pass--

I almost forgot to ask....can you please bing the leopard bag with my nail polish?

leopard bag

It is under the sink in the back bathroom on the left hand side.

You can take out the files if that makes it easier to close.

Additional nail care

There is also a baggie with some more nail stuff (1 red polish, 1 clear and 1 fast dring top coat and the cuticle cutter) in my room.

It is either on my bureau or on top of my black overnight bag in front of the long mirror.

I have to touch up my toes before we go.

Thanks!

*****

ME:: hmmmm....can you send an email with a list of EVERYTHING you need so I can print it out and get everything at you place?

*****

I deleted it all...

Take a look at the navy dress... if it is not stained..I just need it and a the silver shoes. Call me if it is stained and we can go from there.

Thanks!

*****

ME: no worries...i just stabbed myself in the eyes with hot pokers....i wouldn't be able to read it anyways.

****

h, the monday that should be but isn't but could be if it wasn't

That's right...the day after the day after new YEARS eve....after being away from my office for 10 days, ten WONDERFUL, GLORIOUS, FANTASTIC, INCREDIBLE days fill with family and friends and the things I love, I decided, based on the need for healthcare and income, to return to work. I woke up to the sweet sounds of a staticy clock radio--seems the last time I used the alarm clock was just before I dusted--having hit the dial which resulted in the sweetly sounding crackleshshshshcrackleshshshhsh

shshshsh wake up donkey sound....i bolted upright.....okay, so my hand bolted upright and came smashing down on the snooze button--they need to make it bigger. I got up.....grabbed my bathrobe, opened my door, stepped out of my room, the door closed behind me, catching part of my bathrobe...two steps and i was spinning like a top trying to figure out who was messin' with me so early in the morning. Stupid door. Cursed inanimate objects.

I stumbled down stairs.

I forgot to make coffee. UGH. I start the coffee process. Fill the pot. empty the pot into the coffee maker. Put the coffee in the grinder. Grind the coffee. Scoop the coffee into the coffee maker. SON OF A......reread what I just wrote, starting with Fill the pot. Yes. I forgot the filter!!! Empty the coffee out. Clean the coffee holder. Put the filter in the coffee holder. Add coffee, hit the start button. Hop in the shower. get out of the shower. Shave. Go get a cup of...SON OF A...i hit timed brew, not brew now....figures. I hit brew.....go upstairs, get dressed....the door is playing nice now, thankfully. I go down stairs. I pour a swwweeeeet cup of coffee. Sweet....Glorious....Mud....mmmm. I get in the car. I start driving. Where are all the crazy people coming from????? How does one rear end an ambulance? i Mean, really. But hey, someone did. Luckily emergency response units were already on the scene.

I find my blood pressure rising the closer i get to my office. This isn't healthy. I get to my desk. I can't remember my password. 10 times...locked out....I call the help desk, remembering my password as I make my way through press 3 for more options, press 4 for more options, press 3825 to speak to an operator (look at the letters on 3825...bet you can guess what 4 letter word I spelled out).....I tell them I forgot my password, but I remember it now, and I need them to unlock my account. She says, "we can reset your password for you." I said, "i know my password...i mean, I couldn't then, but I remember it now, i just need them to unlock it." She resets my password for me.....3825 3825 3825.......i go through the pleasurable process of redoing my password, (no words more than 3 letters, must contain alpha-numeric in the first 4 characters, no repetition or letter number substitution, must be 13 characters long and not repeat any patterns in the previous 7 passwords.....). Password successfully set. I couldn't remember what it accepted.....rinse wash repeat the entire paragraph.

I finally log in. I go to refill my coffee. I pour a tall cup from my thermos (saving money this year to pay for all those things that keep popping up all the freakin' time). I close the thermos. I pick up the cover for my cup. I reach for my coffee. I wear my coffee....3825 3825 3825.

Ahhhhhh...it's like i never left. There's something comforting the familiar...isn't there?

Because I have sooo much stuff on my mind......

So, you say you want a boat. That's great. Boats are a blast, lots of fun. Before you buy the boat, I need you to do two things. First, put on your swimsuit. Now put some shorts and a t-shirt on. Get your flip-flops on. Go rent a humvee and fill it with premium gas. Drive around for two hours with the heater on. Go to the beach. Take off one flip flop. Stand in the hot sand, look longingly at the water. Don't touch the water. Stand around for about an hour like you're a homeless person looking at a bed at Jordan's Furniture. Get back in the humvee. Drive around for another two hours, fill the tank again. Drive for home. Get home. Swear. Go in the bathroom. Take $200 out of your wallet. Put it in the toilet. Flush.....if you can do all this.....you are ready to own a boat.

How do you know if you're ready to plan a wedding? Simple. Go out to the shed. Grab a leather punch and a spoon. Heat the leather punch by sticking it in an open flame. Stick the spoon in the freezer. In 30 minutes, I want you to pick either the hot leather punch or the frozen spoon.....AND JAM IT INTO YOUR EYE!!! This will show that you are fearless, willing, and ready to make difficult and painful decisions........

If I could have my way:

I'd like the theme song, "I'm Beebalicious", to be played every time I walked into a room

Every night, as I'd lay down in bed, I'd like to have Morgan Freeman do a narration/voiceover, something like, "After another long day, Marc had decided it was about that time to lay his head on a soft pillow and drift asleep. The stars will always shine, and the sun will always rise, and tonight he will sleep soundly"....

Miss Lippy would serve lunch to all my friends every day

Yoko Ono would never be allowed to make music again, and all previously created abominations would be erased from the history of the world

Nap time would be reinstated....and bob ross would still be alive painting little happy trees as we drifted asleep

Keifer Sutherland would do a "This meeting takes place between the hours of 2 and 3 pm" before the start of all meetings

People would stop saying to me, "you have waaay too much time"

Yes, I know. I have fallen behind. Chalk it up to exhaustion, an engagement, hawaii, san diego, 8 planes in 8 days, a marathon of planes trains and automobiles, and a funny itchy/burning sensation every time i get near a computer.....it's a work thing.....anyways....as to what I am up to....i am resting quietly....garnering my strength to prepare for an unleashing of a torential stream of consciousness unlike anything we have seen before....be wary, be warned, be ready, and be excellent to each other......

yeah, that's right, I totally just dropped a bill and ted reference...how f'n sweet is THAT?

Monday, October 16th. So, a little less than a month from now it'll be a year since my dad died. Amazing how fast time has flown, how much has changed, how much I've grown. I'm close to be done all the paperwork. I promise to make sure I have an honest lawyer that will help my kids with everything. It's funny that only now, 11 months later, that I'm finally allowed the opportunity to grieve, finally given the chance to cry and be angry and be frustrated. And it amazes me how things come about, when they come about, like on sundays when I wanna call my dad and talk about the Pats and the Bills, or when I want to let him know about things going on in life, or to ask him what spice I should use to bring out the flavor of something. And I can't. And people will ask me what my dad was like, and I think how you should've met him, cause for all the good and bad, it's hard to put in to words. You should've tasted his cooking. It was fantastic. And that is part of what stirred this writing. This weekend I found the cookbooks, the recipe books. And I flipped through them, excited and ecstatic that they are in my possession. I can't wait to cook them, grateful that I paid attention to the pinch and pile, the dash and splash. And I think how could someone who was so meticulous, so precise, and had spent so much time in the medical field NOT been more pro-active with his health, with his doctor visits, and keeping people in the loop. And really, it doesn't matter, because it doesn't change anything. He's gone, he won't be back. Stories. We leave behind all these stories--and yet these stories are only good so long as there is someone to tell them. The months leading up to my dad's death, we'd sit and talk--he told me of all these stories from his youth, from his 20s, from his time with my mom. I remember them, as I remember most things. Sure, I suck when it comes to, "hey, thursday at 5 we're meeting at the clubhouse", but I remember your stories, all of your stories. The stories of the people I know. It's through those stories that we live on. My grandfather told me lots of his stories just before he died. I never pieced it together. My grandmother, who I spoke to every week at the end, we talked all about her stories, and it was fun to connect about my living in Newton, where she studied nursing. Stories. People pass on those stories, ever more so as they get closer to the end. The need to live on. Even if one person only tells one story of another person, that person still lives on. Eventually the stories end...eventually they fade. Like the words on a page, or the grooves in a record. Faint, faint, fainter...gone.

yeah, that's right....i'm having one of those days...a double post day. My friend Julie, a lovely woman with a beautiful soul, is about to start a new job. She'll be working with pre-schoolers doing some speech stuff--I of course could use some help in that department myself. Anyways, she's been working with "troubled" kids for the past few years--and by troubled I mean kids that have threatened to kill her and do mean horrible things. Most are on the fast path to the state school for psychopaths. Good stuff...anyways, as I was on a roll this morning...i figured...why stop.....

Pre-schoolers will be fun, and it's speech, which is even better! That's awesome....plus, pre-schoolers won't threaten to kill you. Remember...say no to paste....it's addicting. It's like crack for 4 year olds. You know it's bad for you, but once you start you can't stop. Sure, other teachers will try to talk you off it, help you quit switching to elmer's glue (paste's version of methadone), but it won't be the same....then the 5 year old pusherman comes up to you...yeah, he's going to kindahgahden soon....He'll offer you a taste...just to get you through the rough spot...next thing you know your huffin' scented markers, lookin' for your next fix. If you don't pay up he and his cronies will start fingerpainting your car, crushing your macaroni necklace, and stealing your lunchbox.

How you know you're having a bad day...First, you wake up at your girlfriend's house to her two alarms. Second, you shower, start to get dressed, only to realize you have no boxers to wear at her place because she's been going non-stop for almost a week and a half and hasn't been home to do laundry and your gym bag is at work with a clean pair in it so you have to go commando. Yes, I am sitting here commando. I feel like Joey on friends. Then....you decide to leave early because yesterday was a holiday and traffic is always worse after a holiday, so you skip breakfast, head down to the car and find a parking ticket because you parked overnight on without a pass EVEN THOUGH IT WAS A HOLIDAY. $30 to that f'n'sh'tay town. Of course, her roommate parked next to you because you said, "it's free, it's a holiday." So, let's us add a little guilt to the whole mix. Finally, miserably, you get on the road. Yup, traffic is bad. You have to swerve into the breakdown lane because someone tried to occupy the exact space you held. Then, as you try and settle your nerves, you go to take a sip of coffee, only to realize the lid was open and it sloshed when you swerved, so the coffee is all over your cup holder and has now dripped on to your jeans, and when you tried to honk you hit the radio button and it's now playing The Cure because really you couldn't be any more depressed. At least the coffee wasn't hot.......god I wish the coffee was hot.

Rainy day. Aches in the bones......couldn't sleep last night. tossing and turning--I don't want to rush through my life. Realized that last night that that's why I've been so wired. My friend Robby's grandmother was talking to me before his wedding. The woman, bless her, was up and out about two weeks after a massive heart attack that resulted in her being medi-flighted to the hospital. She said, "Live each day, cherrish each day because they go so fast. Don't rush through them. Enjoy them." And I feel like I'm rushing through my days to get to the next thing. that's not me. never been me. I usually notice the leaves changing....today I realized most already have.

Another crazy commute managed to set the tone today. I awoke up to two alarms....i hate two alarms. Especially when you snooze the first one, and then the second "you really gotta get up" alarm goes off 2 minutes after the first is snoozed. That's just bad timing. If anything, i need to set them so that the "you really gotta get up" occurs two...maybe three...snoozes. And why do snoozes have to be 7 or 9 minutes? Why not, oh, i dunno, say 10? Is this part of the cursed american tradition of setting arbitrary measurements? Like, say, we'll make this unit of measurement be 12 inches in a foot, then three feet in a yard. How many yards in a hectare? And to make matters worse...it's cold now.....or at least getting colder. Makes it much harder to leave the comfort of a warm bed, and the comfort of my girlfriend (which is already hard enough to do as it is), to make the trek down to the shower. Oh, and looky here, the alarm JUST went off again from the first snooze of the SECOND clock...>ARGH<