Afterthoughts

Reimbursed!

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 23:30:38 GMT

Last night i had to stay until one in the morning for work.

It was so late that the Train stopped running (apparently the last train leaves West Lake Station at one AM but only goes to SoDo. Wtf? who needs to go from DT to SoDo at one in the morning? By friggin' train?) So after running through a scary, scary Chinatown in the middle of the night to NOT catch the last train, i stood at the stop on 5th and Jackson, just staring at the street and waiting for the No.7 (again).

I hate the No. 7. I really hate it now that they've taken away half of our stops and half of the rounds it makes. Standing there, at a quarter till one, looking at the street, i realized: the next 7 wouldn't show for half an hour. And that would be if i got lucky. I was looking at an hour, easily, of my life wasted, standing at King Street Station, doing nothing.

So then i saw a cab. I waived said cab down. I took said cab home. And this morning i slapped my work with the receipt. Reimbursed! This sets a new precedent for me. How awesome is that? Now, if they shaft me with a crazy workload, i can call a cab, and go home. I'm sticking it to them.

Top Five Memories of Rainy Nights

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 04:44:54 GMT

5 - Riding Home on Mother's Day
It was sometime before '92, i'm pretty sure, back when we lived in the old Danbury house. I worked up the courage to take a back-road route through a scarier part of our neighborhood in order to bike my way to Wal-Mart. It was a daring act, for a kid, because i'd been told there were Satanists that held rituals in an old dirty colvert back on the southwest side of the Wal-Mart, right next to where i'd arrive by that route. That was the standard threat back home, as a kid. Satanists. They were always hanging out in quarries and colverts, smoking marlboros and converting kids to the Dark Lord. But i had a mission: i was going to buy something for Mum on Mother's day. I got there fine, and picked out something cheap that a kid like me could afford (strange that i can't even remember what it was, now). But on the way back out of the store a thunderstorm had moved in the way they always do in the midwest: like an angry posse out to corner the bandit. That thunderstorm slammed into me with no mercy as i tucked whatever it was into my coat, under my shirt, and peddaled myself into a torrential downpour, content to make it back alive. The funny twist is, despite being alive and exhilarated in a fight with nature, Mum found me, with Hannah in the front seat of that old station wagon we had. She was furious, driving around to search for me, absolutely terrified for my life. Apparently someone had told her about the Satanists, too.

4 - MiniVan Mornings, the Medusa Summer, Troy, MT
Somewhere back in time we lived in limbo. My siblings know it better than i do, and my parents could tell you better stories, i'm sure. I was already out in the world at that point, tethered much more loosely to the family. It was after our Yaak years. But my little sisters and my little brother needed a high school diploma, so the fab fam moved from the woods to the string of lawns down in Troy town. When i came to visit one summer i was supposed to stay with Haakon in the Karuzas trailer, because homes filled up fast in those single-wide trailers we all inhabited. Now, before the heat wave came in and reminded everyone that it was, in fact, summer, and before i'd moved in with Haakon, i needed a place to sleep. And since the house was full again with the fab fam, i was given a new portable bedroom. They put down some foam padding and threw a few blankets in the back of the minivan. And for a good month i woke every morning to the sound of gentle rain on the rooftop, the the drumming of giant fingers to a subtle beat. It was pure relaxation.

3 - Returning from Little Rock, with the guy side of the S.G.O.F.
Some movie, some night of the week, on some adventure. I can't even remember the car, but i'd bet money it was the Soup Can, and Dave was the Pilot. We were driving into a squall, and the music on the radio still managed to come through, clear as bells. As the rain hit some magical DJ with perfect kung-fu started to play Enter Sandman by Metallica. I cannot tell you how awesome it is to hear that, full volume, while the heavens battle by lightning. Awesome.

2 - Autumn, Adventure, Allegiances
In a memory i can't sell you, or explain, or communicate clearly, i put my No.2. The memory is connected to that smell of wet leaves on a crisp night. The fall is wet, back home, and my neighborhood was old, nested in many trees. And one night, anticipating a team-up between me and Michael, one of my oldest friends, i slid my old wooden sword, Bloodwater into my pants belt-loop, and jammed the water pistol .45 down the back of my pants. I put on my camo jacket, and my fake-Indiana Jones hat, and rushed out the front door. It was dark, that kind of early dark from the approaching winter, and the entire world had a sheen of glossy wet reflecting streetlights. The smell...i wish i could tell you what it smelled like. It smelled like childhood, and i knew it even then, and it smelled like adventure, and anticipation. It smelled like my friendship with my old friend, and the dragons we would slay. It smelled like the good times, like way back when.

1 - Raintunnel
Life had finally closed the chapters on my youth. I was now an adult. Don't ask me how i know, i'm sure it was many, many things that caused it. But i was no longer a kid. I met my friend Haakon, who is ever a child and ever and adult, like me, and we were suddenly exploding with verbal communion. It was the first we'd seen each other in nearly two years, and the first time we'd not seen each other in so long. The emotions that came through me that night are many and varied. Concerned, delighted, awe-struck, giddy, content, and confused. All in their order, like cars piled behind the steam-engine of camaraderie. We walked all over that sleepy town, Troy, through a slow rainfall that soaked me to the bone but never made me cold. We talked, told stories, asked questions, and eventually came to an old Train Tunnel. Staring long into it's darkness we mused on the adventure of going into it, and all that would entail. We were five steps in, five steps from really doing it, when suddenly and amber glow appeared at the far end. And then the whistle, like the roar of a monster. We rushed back out to the rain, and in moments the thing exploded out of the tunnel like all the noise and light and amazement you could ever imagine. It blew my coat back, and the rain flew away from us for a moment. We played catch up to each other all that night, but as the foundation of a tradition we did not fail to add one more adventure to our history at the same time.

Voyager

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 21:47:03 GMT

Finally bought my plane ticket last night. Up till now i've been a pretty faithful CheapTickets.com guy, but this time i went with a deal i got through Expedia.com. I'll let you know how it goes.

Itinerary is thus:

Depart Seattle: 12/21 - 1:05PM
Arrive OKC: 12/21 - 11:05PM

Depart OKC: 01/03 - 5:25PM
Arrive Seattle: 9:10PM

Plus i got it all for right around 1k dollars! That's 600 less than i'd been seeing it (and 600 less than it was listed on CheapTickets...)

A Little Push...

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 23:35:09 GMT

Joker's Black&W, originally uploaded by Graypawn.

Watched The Dark Knight again last night. Glad i did.

Final Warning

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 02:20:20 GMT

Final Warning, originally uploaded by Graypawn.

Terrific. Now what? I gotta remember to give myself better instructions.

...

Who am i kidding? I know me, and i know i'd just kill time anyway. Probably not going to do much, even with demands from my future self...

This Isn't Funny Anymore

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 09:15:27 GMT

I'm sleeping downstairs tonight.

I didn't expect this.

Tonite was horrible. I didn't leave work until 12:30 and by the time I got home I was dead on my feet. I still had laundry to do, though, and tonight is my one chance to do it. So, since I hate doing laundry when I'm all sweaty, I hopped in the shower.

While I'm in the middle of shampooing my hair, something bangs on the door.
At first I thought it was just the cat.
But Virgil is trouble, not dangerous. And the bump was loud, like someone punching the door. I stopped scrubbing my hair and just listened.
For a moment it was quiet. Then the door just started shaking violently, as if it were convulsing. At that point I was terrified.
I pulled back the curtain and watched the door stop shaking. I watched it there, soap in my eyes, frozen, water running, afraid to move.

But it gets worse.

I got out of the shower, started to calm down, put on some clothes and went to look at myself in the mirror. I brushed my teeth. And then I went back to my room.

This is the part that terrifies me.

My bedroom door was wide open. The lights had been turned off.

Slowly, slowly I crept toward the door. When I finally had the guts to turn on the light, I felt my stomach turn.

Everything on my desk had been piled into two piles.

I must have stood there for a while wondering what to do and panicking pretty much until I noticed my cell phone siting on, like, a little ledge of the pile closest to me.

Being so shaken I wasn't thinking and I just picked it up. Immediatly the whole thing crashed down and onto the desk and floor. I jumped back, yelping a bit. I could hear my heart beating in my ears.

So I left, borrowed JBs truck and went to QFC.

moebius

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 08:04:04 GMT

I've been sitting downstairs for the last 20 minutes.
Uncertain of what to do next.

I'm posting this from my phone, because Pearl is dead. I suddenly wonder, is her death part of all this?

This morning I got a text from J.B. that said the front door was unlocked when he woke up this morning. I assumed it was my fault, that I'd forgotten coming home as late as I did.

But tonite something weird happened. I had to return a horror movie to the video store down the street. Andi had driven me home from our Wed Nite Mage Game and we were halfway through a conversation, so he offered to drive me to the dropoff and back. I made sure to lock the door behind me. When we got back 10 minutes later, it was unlocked.

This was bad enough, but that's not the weird part. I put my coat in my room and took off my dress shirt. I then went to brush my teeth.

when I got back to my room, my windows were both open.

I've been sitting downstairs, afraid to go to my room.

It's very quiet in this house.

Switcher00

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 03:09:32 GMT

For the last two days i've been training at Luminous Works in Ballard. I basically sit in a nice room, with other color nerds, and geek out about the Adobe Creative Suite. We drink green tea, listen to jazz, and keep saying "Oh, that is so cool!" At lunch i have fresh blackened salmon, and fish-battered fries. By 4:30 i'm talking about building D&D dungeons with my old Mac.

Then, at 6, it all goes away, like a dream in a crystal ball floating back to Xanadu. I trudge back to the warbird that brought me away from the gray and disparate ID, climb into is smelly bowels, and slither back down Aurora until i've crashed into that shithole that won't let me leave. I punch the clock, and begin to sift through the piles of blue work order that have collected like a snowbank over my inbox. I call friends, cancel plans, and feel the happy times slip through my fingers like breath from the lungs of a drowning man.

Here, on the murky deep, i'm waiting for another broken device to be temporarily fixed, so i can start my workday, and power through to the OT. It's all due tomorrow, first thing in the morning. It's always due first thing in the morning. It's due the very instant you could be doing anything else, anything that would make you happy (or just less sad).

I'd say i've got it bad, but i don't have the right. Other people will be here long after i'm gone, and they came in long before i danced over the hills to Ballard schools and honey-sweet beverages. For some there was no ball. The carriage never showed. Just pumpkins. Just rats.

I'm listening to the music on our Jukebox and wishing i had the self-destructive nature enough to start smoking. Because it just makes sense: a guy like me, with a job like this, smoking is a fit. Everyone else here does. You spend too many nights in this place and the thought of lung cancer just puts a smile on your face. Like you finally get to check out early for once. "Sorry, i can't show up to finish that job...I'm dead!"

...

So, yeah, i'm exaggerating. But...man i really want to set fire to this place right now.

Bad Sleep

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 00:19:52 GMT

Last night i had a real hard time staying asleep.

The worst part was a dream about making a delivery to the Columbia building, downtown. I was on some kind of super-high-up balcony, probably half-way up the building. They have this weird atrium area where the building is like a honeycomb on the outside, open to the air, and if you're standing inside the hollow part you can see out to the cityscape. There is no such balcony, in real life, so maybe that's why i was so relaxed. I remember being in denial of it the whole time.

There was a missile, like in an action movie or something. I just flew in a long slow arch with a thin line of white cloud in it's wake, and smashed into the buildings side. I remember seeing the edge of it crumble off like a giant cookie crust. And as all this smoke and debris erupted people started to scream and just go crazy all around me. I was holding onto this strange calmness, though, and i spoke to no one, just waiting for the explosion to be over and the building to hold. I kept looking around me thinking, wait for it...wait for it to slow, to settle, and then start helping people...

But it didn't. It broke in the middle.

I can still feel that enormous lift, as the floor below me shifted angles, lifting behind me and tilting toward the street. I remember holding onto that calm feeling until the horizon was the ground, and the people around me couldn't hold on. We were sliding down a 45 degree angle toward a brownish cloud.

And just as i realized this was not okay, and that this was not going to right itself, and the building was going to fall to nothing and i would die along with all of these people...
i woke up.

i'd knotted the covers around me, and i was shaking.

Fail

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 23:37:37 GMT

i go to buy a bag of Runts from the vending machine upstairs. Are they Runts? No. They're Chewy Runts.

disgusting.

After I Am Dead

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 02:01:27 GMT

After I am dead
I shall be gone from the day,
and the wind will gather my dust in his arms
and bear me far away.

After I am dead
I shall leave no sign or track,
And the shadow that walked beside me
will be gathered back.

--Oscar Williams

Q:

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 00:31:06 GMT

Boba Fett (Empire) Vs. Batman (Arkham Asylum): Who wins?

Q:

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 20:59:17 GMT

Control, Generate, Immune to: Fire or Electricity?

But don't take my word for it...

Fri, 09 Oct 2009 01:28:09 GMT

Derek told me once that he'd like to hear the Reading Rainbow theme done by a metal band (such as Dethklok). About a month ago my D&D group heard me re-iterate this to them. Then we found out that Reading Rainbow was over.

And for some reason, i'm thinking about it today again. That's kind of a bummer.

Captain Chip'Monicle!

Wed, 07 Oct 2009 01:16:44 GMT

Captain Chip'Monicle!, originally uploaded by Graypawn.

I've been trying to teach myself Photoshop and bits of ID and Ai. It's tough. Thankfully, i've got access to the brain-works of a professional, who was actually edumacated in this field by the local institute. With such skills i'm able to touch-up antique photos, such as this one, taken from the last game of Stud played by the infamous Sky Pirate and Gambler, Captain Chip'Monicle, before he became a giant beacon of light and vanished into space.

Top Five Awards I Would Give Out

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 06:23:28 GMT

#5 - Crow for Best Random Text Messages Related to Fake Science
#4 - David for Best Seattle Monster Concept (linked to a Catchy Tune)
#3 - [a tie] Sean-0 & Charon for Most Likely To Send Me Something Awesome/Funny from the Internet
#2 - Tom for Best Unnecessary but Awesome/Hilarious Voice Mail Messages
#1 - My Work for Most Amazing Natural Talent For Randomly Screwing Me Over

Happy Birthday, Mum!

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 18:25:03 GMT

Remember the mission where you punched Hitler? Good times.

I finally figured out what i was needing

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 01:33:39 GMT

i needed to listen to Paul Simon.

Slip Slidin' Away

Listen to me Now, Family

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 00:33:48 GMT

My texting is broken. I cannot text out. I can only receive text messages. I cannot send them. Therefore, according to the Wade-Cupps New Deal of 1897 i am not required to participate in any White Rabbit taggings during Text-Handicapped times.

So all those White Rabbits you sent me don't count. I was out of bounds.

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 22:51:14 GMT

me: "Sarah, which Jedi is your favorite?"
Sarah: "I never saw Star Wars."
me: [prolonged silence until she leaves]

Luck of the Drew

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 06:43:36 GMT

7:45AM - Wake to the alarm, shower, toast, and dress for a photo.

8:45AM - Wait for the No.7 bus to Columbia City.

9:30AM - Bus finally shows up.

10AM - Get off the 7 and walk to the Colcity DMV (or as i like to call it "Satan's Asshole"), take a number from the number toaster thingy.

11:20AM - Get called to the front of the line. Told there that you can't actually obtain a Washington State License with only a Driver's License from Missouri and a United States Social Security Card. Apparently it's too easy to forge those things. So the lady tells me they need some mail. Yeah. Mail. Must be a problem with all those bad-ass forgers cranking out Social Security Cards and DLs. But junkmail? C'mon. Nobody can forge that. It's like the Bible. Thanks again, Seattle!

11:22AM - Charged 20$ for a receipt. The receipt is not a license. It is not a ticket or a privileged. It is not a third form of ID. The receipt is only to prove that--and this is how it was explained to me--i wasted my time here. Those were the ladies exact words. (Only changed to be more English.)

12:20PM - Get to work, late, when i was supposed to be in early. Discover that there are sodapepzis in the fridge and a baggie of home-made cookies. Thanks, T.L.

1:10PM - Sarah leaves after doing an amazing job of cleaning up as much shit as she possibly could. Still, there is remaining enough shit to drown an army. I delve into said shit, weeping on the inside.

2:00PM - Pizza from nowhere. Sean-O and T-Bone came through like brothers. They saw that i was going to be proofing for a bigtime client, and knew that it would take all night. Their only flaw? They picked pepperoni. I hate pepperoni. I gave my pizza to Ed, but i kept the warm feeling from the gift.

3:15PM - I'm finally given the whole picture. I'm going to be proofing a job for a super-picky client because the person that typically handles this shit is waiting for a part to fix their machine. On top of that i'm supposed to print 1000 tiny notebooks. Tomorrow we get to assemble said notebooks. Notebooks that apparently don't match the proof i sent to the client. Yesterday i sent in my first PO. Nobody told me how. They just pointed at the blank spots in a spreadsheet and told me to put stuff there. I guessed. I guessed wrong. Today, instead of coming in to find the 1000 booklets half printed i came in to find out that not a single part of what i'd done so far was right. We started over.

3:20PM - The 'right' paper comes in. I remove the old pile of three reams i'd loaded into the machine for the first go round. It sets on the top of the counter for about ten seconds, just long enough for me to look the other way while saying something to Ann. While i'm pointing away, the whole stack falls onto the floor and explodes across the dirt.

3:26PM - I look at the pile of paper and then at Ann. "I'm going to lunch."

3:27PM - I've punched out, and put in my headphones. I ignore every statement hurled at me on the way out. I just leave. I start walking toward the 'Wadj.

3:40PM - I'm at the 'Wadj, touring every eatery i've shoveled into my belly since working at Repro. They all seem so bland now, their taste is memorized. They are stasis. I'm sick of stasis. I leave the 'Wadj, i keep walking.

4PM - I get off the Lightrail at West Lake Station and start walking up toward the streetlevel. I'm a little lost at first, still hungry, still fighting the urge to call work and say two little words/hang up/smile and be done with it. But instead i shuffle through the crowd, watching all the rich people on Third Ave shop and tour the city and generally do nothing that benefits humanity. Then i remember i do the same thing. It just makes me unhappy while it makes them ignorant. Wonderful. I skip going to Dog in the Park even though it almost makes me cry. I'm too poor to buy a Dog in the Park. So i go up to the mall and buy Bourbon Chicken from the cajun/chinese place. Cheap. Delicious.

4:25PM - i'm sitting at the Westlake Center mall, looking out toward the water, a tiny dash of blue in a chasm of buildings. Every few minutes the monorail slides by, filled with tourists and their slightly amused local friends. It's quiet.

And on my headphones the song Steppin' Out by Joe Jackson starts to play. A smile hooks the corner of my mouth and pulls a the side of my face. My stomach loosens. My back aches a bit less. I let out a deep breath, fill my head with giggles at the thought of the Winter King of Seattle...

Life is okay. Life is alright.

5:15PM - Missed the Text from Ann, I know you said you were going to lunch, but the way you left makes me worry. Are you coming back? I slide in to find she's roped Dave from upstairs into running a proof. She such a champ. Always gets out the post-its and starts to number my work orders. "See? Just one, two, three, four...and then you go home!" If only it was as easy as she wished it was.

5:30PM - The jobs are narrowed down. The Xerox is spitting out the first 100 of 1000 copies. The color matching is starting to get closer. I've checked with J.B. for permission to use the truck for another late night, and called Andi twice for good ideas about how to make Photoshop my bitch. Fighting. But not out. Not down for the count or anything dramatic like that.

I had hopes for 6pm this Thursday. I was going to walk around Green Lake with Andi, and then playtest Omnibus Oneiric. Or maybe just go back home and put down some words about the stories happening in the Alterscape. I've not been there for a long time, and it's frozen a part of me in carbonite. Anything but work. Too bad.

8PM - J.B. picks me up and takes me back to Baederkeep. I've printed a nice view of the city for him on the free clicks our new printer has going for it. I've learned as much as i can doing little jobs through the new interface. But it's just not the same having the old work-horse that was there before. We're turning more and more into some kind of freak, high-end wannabe shop, where all my skills are trivial, but all the customers are bums. Doesn't make sense.

9PM - I've said goodnight to the Baeders and i'm back en'route to work, watching the skyline from Dearborn as i creep back toward that second home i'm so damn sick of. I've brought a sack dinner from Wendy's. I eat it as i print the last of the color-matching.

10PM - everything is trimmed out and ready to rock. I leave the new proofs on the QC shelf and keep our copies on the table at the middle of our department. I'm waiting for the 3rd set of 100 to come out of the printer.

11:32 - The last 100 prints are filling up the OCT right now. I'm typing this out and wondering about all the people i've ignored so damn much. I finally talked to my Mom today, for the first time in several weeks. But that was only because i was mad, thinking about quitting my job, and waiting for the Lightrail at Chinatown station. I was having a hard time talking to her, but i still feel bad that i was too mad to call back when the tunnel cut us off. I didn't say i love you or i love you, too. That makes the whole conversation feel ethereal somehow. Who hangs up with their Mom and doesn't say i love you, too. I talked to Charon, too, for a bit, but the co-workers interrupted me. I'm worried about a mutual friend of ours. Uncle Sam has a mean streak. Like an alcoholic that suddenly shows up at your house three months later and shouts at the whole neighborhood that you owe him 20 bucks. You wonder what's happened to him, what's making him so mean, but there's no explanation. You just hang your head and listen. After all, he's so much bigger than you. You love 'im, but he's still a douchebag.

But i got Bruce Springsteen on the Mac, and i'm just a few copies away from punching out. I'll drive the J.B.-BigRig back to Baederkeep and settle into my crooked bed, elevated on the mighty frame of false metal we built a few weeks ago. I'll sleep, soundly, and then i'll get up and go to work. I won't get my license tomorrow, and that'll be hard to deal with. It means i'll be in more trouble, even if i get some sympathy come Monday at my court-date. (called in for a parking ticket, but my only ID will be a MO license. Can't wait to explain that one.)

But you just can't fight all the time. Eventually you gotta give up, and shrug, and tell them the big lie. "yeah, you're right. i was in the wrong. i'm glad you straightened me out. thanks. here, have some of my money for the amazing effort." And then, when they're done picking your pockets and wagging their finger in your face they'll find some other kid on the sidewalk, and hop all over his back. They'll ride that poor punk into the ground, and they'll screw him out of everything he's ever earned, just like they did to you. But, you know, at least they'll be busy with that person and they'll be leaving you alone. Sometimes it's not about winning or loosing. Sometimes it's about waiting for the dickholes that rule this world to get tired of you, and look somewhere else, and forget about you for a bit.

...

oh, wow. The machine just beeped.

I can go home now.

Magical Fridg'rator!

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 23:37:14 GMT

Once, long ago, during an age of plenty, my co-worker and I split the cost of a tiny refrigerator. This compact box of ice seemed in no way extraordinary when we first unpacked it from the protective shields of cardboard that housed it. Placing it in the corner of our tiny kingdom (for easy access during the early mornings and late nights of hard labor that loomed over the days to come) our new artifact was all but interesting. It never seemed out of the ordinary.

But, behold! Today i have proven it's mystical properties. For again i have opened the door to our mysterious Fridgidaire only to discover it has once more transmuted a full, chilled Pepsi into a small pile of silver! What magic is this? What arcane principles govern such random exchanges of beverage for change?

the truth is out there...

F@#K you, T-Bone! Stay outta my fridge! I didn't haul a 12 pack of soda all the way from the 'Wadj just so you could swindle me instead of going the extra 20 feet to Small Doc and squander your pennies in the crap-machine with the rest of the bums! I aughta break your fingers you Giraffe humping bonzo!

Thanks, Eb

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 07:00:26 GMT

As i wipe a tear from my eye, i think back to that which is most holy...

From Amy Baeder

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 22:25:02 GMT

"I want to be your Dad when I grow up."

From The Tick

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 00:35:19 GMT

"Destiny's powerful hand has made the bed of my future, and it's up to me to lie in it. I am destined to be a superhero. To right wrongs, and to pound two-fisted justice into the hearts of evildoers everywhere. And you don't fight destiny. No sir. And, you don't eat crackers in the bed of your future, or you get all... scratchy."