the hart bridge
jacksonville, fl
this picture was taken on "black friday". i had the day off and i liked the lighting. you could see how much we have painted. notice the tarps on the bottom beams.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
a stroll down memory lane
October 9, 2005.
Miguel and I just found out yesterday that we’re going to be parents (although Miguel pretty much already knew last week because I was craving fried chicken, and I’m a vegetarian, and that man loves fried chicken). Well, Miguel already has 3 boys, but you are our first child together. We’re kind of hoping you will be a girl because we don’t want the boys to get jealous, but if you’re a boy, that’s great too, because you’ll be easier to handle than a girl once you’re a teenager. We’re pretty excited. I’m nervous because I don’t know anything about babies. And I need to finish school, but I want to take good care of you too. We call you cracker. Cracker is short for wheat cracker because your dad is Mexican and, well… I’m white. We’re interested to see what you’ll look like. I want to know what your skin tone will be like, and Miguel wonders if you’ll have light eyes like me. I hope you get his hair. He has such beautiful black hair. Your dad and I are very in love. I love him more and more each day. He is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. We’ve been together for about 10 months. That’s not very long, but we’re excited to have you.
Miguel and I just found out yesterday that we’re going to be parents (although Miguel pretty much already knew last week because I was craving fried chicken, and I’m a vegetarian, and that man loves fried chicken). Well, Miguel already has 3 boys, but you are our first child together. We’re kind of hoping you will be a girl because we don’t want the boys to get jealous, but if you’re a boy, that’s great too, because you’ll be easier to handle than a girl once you’re a teenager. We’re pretty excited. I’m nervous because I don’t know anything about babies. And I need to finish school, but I want to take good care of you too. We call you cracker. Cracker is short for wheat cracker because your dad is Mexican and, well… I’m white. We’re interested to see what you’ll look like. I want to know what your skin tone will be like, and Miguel wonders if you’ll have light eyes like me. I hope you get his hair. He has such beautiful black hair. Your dad and I are very in love. I love him more and more each day. He is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. We’ve been together for about 10 months. That’s not very long, but we’re excited to have you.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
february 4, 2008
i had a dream last night. in my dream i was re-living the day i almost died. in my dream though i did die. so much for the theory that if you die in your dreams you die for reals. (i think i heard that in a horror movie). anyways, i thought i would write about that day so that i could remember exactly what happened.
February 4, 2008 should have been the second date on my tombstone. It was a windy overcast day. The day before was the Superbowl. Against all odds the New York Giants had beat the perfect New England Patriots. My cousin, Jerry, was suffering from a severe cold that Monday. He never misses a day unless he is feeling pretty bad. Me and Jethro Wiggins were removing the cables underneath the bridge from a manlift. That morning Jethro dropped me off on the pier cap where i went ahead and un-tightened the cables. The pier cap is about 10 feet wide and about 90 feet up in the air. That morning whilst going from cable to cable I was tying off for some reason. Normally in the work I do, a 10 foot wide area to walk in is a walk in the park, so to say. But for some reason I kept tying off. I clearly remember thinking that morning how much it would suck to fall from that height. Maybe it was the strong wind or just a bad feeling. I loosened the clips i need to loosen and Jethro came to pick me up off the pier cap with the manlift. He told me to go ahead and "drive". We had one more cable to loosen before we could "drop" the cables we had loosened. As i tried to reach that last cable, I realized that the forklift was in the way of where i had to move the manlift in order to reach the last cable. I yelled down to Wendell Paddum to move the forklift out of the way. Wendell was a new recruit that was hired as a truck driver. He was there in the stead of my cousin. He just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. At first I thought he couldn't hear me. So I yelled louder and signaled to him what I wanted. Again, the same response.
"Move the forklift out of the way!" I yelled.
"I don't know how!" he yelled back.
"What kind of truck driver doesn't know how to drive a forklift?" I thought to myself.
I was mad. My cousin Jerry would have moved the damn thing without having had to be told. Now I had to ride the manlift down to move it myself. I remember wondering what kind of favors James Barnes, the project supervisor, was owed to get this guy hired. I also wondered why Manuel Crysakis, the owner, had hired James to run the job. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, I guess, and if you knew James, he was not only squeaky, but loud. He patterned his attitude like Mr. T.
These thoughts were running through my brain as I took the 90 foot ride on the manlift. I hate wasting time at work. Maybe its my work ethic, or maybe it is just my training from the Gialousis brothers.
Without a word to Wendell, I haphaszardly tossed my lanyard onto my left shoulder and hopped on the forklift, turned it on and proceeded to move it. Now this forklift is a piece of shit. It does not run well cold. It will stall on you if it is cold and and you do not give it the "gas" (it actually runs on diesel). I cut the wheels to the right as i floored it. Remember, all four wheels turn on the forklift to give it a better turning radius, so the back tires actually turned left while the front tires turned right. At that moment inertia forced my lanyard off my shoulder and onto the ground. (The lanyard is the line that hooks off to your safety harness. It consists of two hooks. One hook hooks to your back and the other to wherever you choose to tie off to). I did not notice. The back left tire ran over the lanyar. Before I could realize, I was being yanked out of the machine. Being yanked out was the scariest moment for me. Had i been wearing the seatbelt, i would have been torn in two.
I was dragged out of the seat, did an about turn, and landed face down on the dirt. I was still wondering what the fuck happened when i happened to raise my head up. Remember, this is a matter of split seconds. As I raised my head up i saw the back tire of the forklift running over my left hand. I tried to budge but i couldn't. i felt helpless. the only thing i could physically do was move my head to prevent it from being crushed.
"So this is it?" i clearly remember thinking. "February 4th, 2008."
i was getting a million thoughts per second. "I always wondered how I'm gonna die. And this is it?"
"February 4th 2008," I thought to myself. I also remember feeling compassion for dogs that get run over.
i helplessly watched as the machine climbed up my forearm, elbow, bicep and shoulder. It finally stopped on my shoulder blade. I distinctly remember hearing and feeling something inside my chest pop.
"So this is my death?" i thought again. i had always pondered how i was going to go since i was about 5 or 6. i remember also wondering how i was going to explain this one to kelsey.
My brain screamed out from somewhere, "fuck this shit! put it in reverse!"
Only it wasnt only my brain screaming. somehow my lips were moving and i was actually screaming it.
"PUT IT IN REVERSE. PUT IT IN FUCKING REVERSE!"
Wendell, was in shock. he was half hopping with both hands in his mouth. almost in the same posture on would take when biting his nails. he was glued to the spot. he couldnt move if he wanted to.
"PUT IT IN FUCKING REVERSE!" i screamed at him again. he finally broke out of his stupor and answered:
"i dont know how!"
Again i wondered at the type of idiot that James had hired.
"GO TO THE LEVER WHERE YOU SEE THE "R" AND PUT IT ON THAT!" i yelled at him.
By this time Jethro heard my hollering and came around to see what was going on.
"oh, shit, migueli! oh shit migueli!" he screamed. all's i could do was keep screaming put it in reverse. my life could not end like this. i wanted to reverse the situation. what would my kids think of me? dying a stupid death like this? would kelsey be mad at me? what would my mom think, and how would it affect her? she has so many problems already that i did not want to add to her burden. i thought of my girls growing up fatherless without knowing their dad. i jumped back to the run-over dog. a million thoughts were flooding my mind in that second.
Jethro did not panic but ran over and put it in reverse, but the machine would not go. now jethro is not a lithe, svelte, man. and as i mentioned before the forklift would not move cold unless you pressed the "gas". So all 300 plus pounds of Jethro climed up onto the 7 ton machine and drove it down the way it came up. what's 300 lbs more when you are talking about tons though?
when the machine was driven off me, i shot up like a bolt. i quickly removed my harness and my long-sleeve shirt to assess the damage. ironically, i was wearing the same shirt that i was wearing when Leyla was born. the cuff button had been torn off and my watch was stamped on my arm. Again i felt compassion for dogs that get run over. I felt this was my last wind and i was just "getting up off the road to find a place to die." I chose my spot. i reclined next to pier cap. (the same one i had a premonition i was going to fall off).
"how funny" i remember thinking, " i should have been hurt in the air. not the ground". since i had felt something pop in my chest, i thought i had internal bleeding. so i spit. unbeknowst to me i had split my lip when i hit the ground. i spit out blood.
"oh, shit" i thought, "in the movies when you spit out blood you are dead."
thinking i had only minutes to live, i reached into my pocket, got my cell phone and called kelsey. it was a long shot she would answer, but i would at least leave a message.
but lo and behold she answered. she was in the restroom and for some reason or other she had turned her phone on. One of her pet turtles (i hate using the phrase pet peeve) is people who leave their ringer on during class, but she somehow answered my call.
"kelse, i just had a bad accident. i got run over by a forklift and i dont think i'm gonna make it, but i want you to know that i love you."
"What?" she probably thought i was joking.
"look kels, i dont have much time but i got to let you go, i got to call 911. i love you."
poor girl. i probably freaked her out.
i never once lost consciousness or ever felt sorry for myself nor did i cry. i did have laments, but never did i feel sorry for myself. i would have died a good death. i was proud of myself. i was taking it pretty good. it was just like in the movies where the hero dies a brave death without tears; i just resigned myself to my fate.
i snapped out of my reverie when i saw Jethro on the phone.
"did you call 911?" i asked.
"no, i called james," he answered.
"fuck james!" i answered.
so i called 911 myself. it helped that the volunteer fire department is located at the foot of the bridge. they arrived about 5 minutes later.
i remember them putting on a neckbrace on me and me trying to take it off telling them my neck was alright.
they cut off my Rockport t-shirt as they layed me on a gurney. they were busy with a stethoscope monitoring something in my chest cavity.
"am i going to die?" i asked them.
"just hold still. dont talk."
the harsh, impersonal flourescent light in the ambulance was shining over me. i tried to take in every last visual image as i was convinced it was my last. one of the paramedics was really concerned, and the other was somewhat aloof, trying to keep his emotions out of it. i felt every bump on the road on my chest. i guess adrenaline prevented me from feeling pain the first few minutes. i was still greedily ingesting every stimulus to my senses, trying to grasp on to feeling being alive. the light, the smell of the paramedic's deodarant, the sound of the siren and the feel of every bump that caused a shot of pain to go through me. the taste of my blood in my mouth. again i was reminded of tv. those tv shows where the last view of the patient is being wheeled in a gurney as they reach the hospital.
needless to say i am still alive and "somewhat" well.
February 4, 2008 should have been the second date on my tombstone. It was a windy overcast day. The day before was the Superbowl. Against all odds the New York Giants had beat the perfect New England Patriots. My cousin, Jerry, was suffering from a severe cold that Monday. He never misses a day unless he is feeling pretty bad. Me and Jethro Wiggins were removing the cables underneath the bridge from a manlift. That morning Jethro dropped me off on the pier cap where i went ahead and un-tightened the cables. The pier cap is about 10 feet wide and about 90 feet up in the air. That morning whilst going from cable to cable I was tying off for some reason. Normally in the work I do, a 10 foot wide area to walk in is a walk in the park, so to say. But for some reason I kept tying off. I clearly remember thinking that morning how much it would suck to fall from that height. Maybe it was the strong wind or just a bad feeling. I loosened the clips i need to loosen and Jethro came to pick me up off the pier cap with the manlift. He told me to go ahead and "drive". We had one more cable to loosen before we could "drop" the cables we had loosened. As i tried to reach that last cable, I realized that the forklift was in the way of where i had to move the manlift in order to reach the last cable. I yelled down to Wendell Paddum to move the forklift out of the way. Wendell was a new recruit that was hired as a truck driver. He was there in the stead of my cousin. He just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. At first I thought he couldn't hear me. So I yelled louder and signaled to him what I wanted. Again, the same response.
"Move the forklift out of the way!" I yelled.
"I don't know how!" he yelled back.
"What kind of truck driver doesn't know how to drive a forklift?" I thought to myself.
I was mad. My cousin Jerry would have moved the damn thing without having had to be told. Now I had to ride the manlift down to move it myself. I remember wondering what kind of favors James Barnes, the project supervisor, was owed to get this guy hired. I also wondered why Manuel Crysakis, the owner, had hired James to run the job. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, I guess, and if you knew James, he was not only squeaky, but loud. He patterned his attitude like Mr. T.
These thoughts were running through my brain as I took the 90 foot ride on the manlift. I hate wasting time at work. Maybe its my work ethic, or maybe it is just my training from the Gialousis brothers.
Without a word to Wendell, I haphaszardly tossed my lanyard onto my left shoulder and hopped on the forklift, turned it on and proceeded to move it. Now this forklift is a piece of shit. It does not run well cold. It will stall on you if it is cold and and you do not give it the "gas" (it actually runs on diesel). I cut the wheels to the right as i floored it. Remember, all four wheels turn on the forklift to give it a better turning radius, so the back tires actually turned left while the front tires turned right. At that moment inertia forced my lanyard off my shoulder and onto the ground. (The lanyard is the line that hooks off to your safety harness. It consists of two hooks. One hook hooks to your back and the other to wherever you choose to tie off to). I did not notice. The back left tire ran over the lanyar. Before I could realize, I was being yanked out of the machine. Being yanked out was the scariest moment for me. Had i been wearing the seatbelt, i would have been torn in two.
I was dragged out of the seat, did an about turn, and landed face down on the dirt. I was still wondering what the fuck happened when i happened to raise my head up. Remember, this is a matter of split seconds. As I raised my head up i saw the back tire of the forklift running over my left hand. I tried to budge but i couldn't. i felt helpless. the only thing i could physically do was move my head to prevent it from being crushed.
"So this is it?" i clearly remember thinking. "February 4th, 2008."
i was getting a million thoughts per second. "I always wondered how I'm gonna die. And this is it?"
"February 4th 2008," I thought to myself. I also remember feeling compassion for dogs that get run over.
i helplessly watched as the machine climbed up my forearm, elbow, bicep and shoulder. It finally stopped on my shoulder blade. I distinctly remember hearing and feeling something inside my chest pop.
"So this is my death?" i thought again. i had always pondered how i was going to go since i was about 5 or 6. i remember also wondering how i was going to explain this one to kelsey.
My brain screamed out from somewhere, "fuck this shit! put it in reverse!"
Only it wasnt only my brain screaming. somehow my lips were moving and i was actually screaming it.
"PUT IT IN REVERSE. PUT IT IN FUCKING REVERSE!"
Wendell, was in shock. he was half hopping with both hands in his mouth. almost in the same posture on would take when biting his nails. he was glued to the spot. he couldnt move if he wanted to.
"PUT IT IN FUCKING REVERSE!" i screamed at him again. he finally broke out of his stupor and answered:
"i dont know how!"
Again i wondered at the type of idiot that James had hired.
"GO TO THE LEVER WHERE YOU SEE THE "R" AND PUT IT ON THAT!" i yelled at him.
By this time Jethro heard my hollering and came around to see what was going on.
"oh, shit, migueli! oh shit migueli!" he screamed. all's i could do was keep screaming put it in reverse. my life could not end like this. i wanted to reverse the situation. what would my kids think of me? dying a stupid death like this? would kelsey be mad at me? what would my mom think, and how would it affect her? she has so many problems already that i did not want to add to her burden. i thought of my girls growing up fatherless without knowing their dad. i jumped back to the run-over dog. a million thoughts were flooding my mind in that second.
Jethro did not panic but ran over and put it in reverse, but the machine would not go. now jethro is not a lithe, svelte, man. and as i mentioned before the forklift would not move cold unless you pressed the "gas". So all 300 plus pounds of Jethro climed up onto the 7 ton machine and drove it down the way it came up. what's 300 lbs more when you are talking about tons though?
when the machine was driven off me, i shot up like a bolt. i quickly removed my harness and my long-sleeve shirt to assess the damage. ironically, i was wearing the same shirt that i was wearing when Leyla was born. the cuff button had been torn off and my watch was stamped on my arm. Again i felt compassion for dogs that get run over. I felt this was my last wind and i was just "getting up off the road to find a place to die." I chose my spot. i reclined next to pier cap. (the same one i had a premonition i was going to fall off).
"how funny" i remember thinking, " i should have been hurt in the air. not the ground". since i had felt something pop in my chest, i thought i had internal bleeding. so i spit. unbeknowst to me i had split my lip when i hit the ground. i spit out blood.
"oh, shit" i thought, "in the movies when you spit out blood you are dead."
thinking i had only minutes to live, i reached into my pocket, got my cell phone and called kelsey. it was a long shot she would answer, but i would at least leave a message.
but lo and behold she answered. she was in the restroom and for some reason or other she had turned her phone on. One of her pet turtles (i hate using the phrase pet peeve) is people who leave their ringer on during class, but she somehow answered my call.
"kelse, i just had a bad accident. i got run over by a forklift and i dont think i'm gonna make it, but i want you to know that i love you."
"What?" she probably thought i was joking.
"look kels, i dont have much time but i got to let you go, i got to call 911. i love you."
poor girl. i probably freaked her out.
i never once lost consciousness or ever felt sorry for myself nor did i cry. i did have laments, but never did i feel sorry for myself. i would have died a good death. i was proud of myself. i was taking it pretty good. it was just like in the movies where the hero dies a brave death without tears; i just resigned myself to my fate.
i snapped out of my reverie when i saw Jethro on the phone.
"did you call 911?" i asked.
"no, i called james," he answered.
"fuck james!" i answered.
so i called 911 myself. it helped that the volunteer fire department is located at the foot of the bridge. they arrived about 5 minutes later.
i remember them putting on a neckbrace on me and me trying to take it off telling them my neck was alright.
they cut off my Rockport t-shirt as they layed me on a gurney. they were busy with a stethoscope monitoring something in my chest cavity.
"am i going to die?" i asked them.
"just hold still. dont talk."
the harsh, impersonal flourescent light in the ambulance was shining over me. i tried to take in every last visual image as i was convinced it was my last. one of the paramedics was really concerned, and the other was somewhat aloof, trying to keep his emotions out of it. i felt every bump on the road on my chest. i guess adrenaline prevented me from feeling pain the first few minutes. i was still greedily ingesting every stimulus to my senses, trying to grasp on to feeling being alive. the light, the smell of the paramedic's deodarant, the sound of the siren and the feel of every bump that caused a shot of pain to go through me. the taste of my blood in my mouth. again i was reminded of tv. those tv shows where the last view of the patient is being wheeled in a gurney as they reach the hospital.
needless to say i am still alive and "somewhat" well.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
life, or something like it
well, the pain in my right elbow is almost non-existent now...it has now been replaced by a sharp pain on the top arch of my right foot....again, i have no recollection of hurting my foot in any way, shape or form.....the pain is very real though.....i do not believe the pain is as bad as it was on my elbow because it does not keep me awake at night.....i am still a sight to behold because i am used to limping on my left side of my body (i had diagnosed gout on my left big toe, major knee surgery on my left knee, and a big fucking forklift on my left arm, shoulder and ribs.....but it is now my right elbow that was bothering me, and now it is my wrong foot.....it was once my "sinister" side that was killing me, but now it is my "right" side that is hurting.....my mind is confused and still reeling.....i keep going back to that thing i read about chronic depression....do i really have it????all the symptoms point to it.....or am i just not "manning up"????i could still function and perform my work duties (as a matter-of-fact, it distracts my head), but it still makes me wonder.....my head must have cracked somewhere in time......time, space, distance, and words left unsaid....deeds left undone....
all is vanity saith the preacher; there is nothing new under the sun.....
all is vanity saith the preacher; there is nothing new under the sun.....
Friday, May 1, 2009
stage one of the carpet is done
ah, the red carpet...the infamous red carpet...the icky red carpet...the red carpet in our living room....well half of it is out and the other half is still anxiously waiting its removal...my right elbow is killing me at this moment--feeling phantom pains, if you will...i know that is not the right term as phantom pains are pains that civil war veterans claimed to feel in their amputated limbs...but i have no other way to describe them...they are there and i have no recollection of hurting my elbow...but the pain is so real...last night the pain was the worst, though i thought the night before last was pretty bad...pain sucks...but it is necessary...it makes you appreciate when you are free from it (at least that is the idea, and i know that i have thanked the Lord before on a painfree day).i have also been running the water on the grass at it has been neglected...our yard used to compete with roy's but right now it is very sad...maybe a little care, attention and love will fix that...though i probably will not be here long enough to see that fruits of my labor, because every day i dont work it's less money for my family (or what's left of it)....it is fitting that i am removing this red carpet because i knew all along how much it bothered kelsey, but somehow i didnt...would of, could of, should of...too little too late...we BOTH made bad decisions and communication (or lack-there-of) was a problem....
Thursday, April 30, 2009
my day plan
i started with the floor this morning. getting it almost down to the concrete... the red carpet will finally go...it always irritated kelsey...kind of ironic that i am spending my last days in our house removing the very thing she hated...the brown tile was probably hated and thus the carpet was put there to remove a bad memory...well im taking that out too...maybe that will later i will mow the lawn and take my last walk through down my yard...i still remember my first walk around and i will remember my last...
Monday, April 13, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
easter
i could go on and write a chipper entry and pretend the world is grand and my life is going well. right now, more than anything it is very hurtful.
Monday, March 23, 2009
more work stuff
well, on saturday morning i showed up to work thinking it was going to be a regular day. wrong. 28 hrs later on sunday i finally got to go home. sure now that im a supervisor, my work in not very rigorous, but 28 straight hours of being awake can take a toll on anyone. on my way back home i was veering off the road and had a hard time keeping myself awake despite constantly telling myself not to nod off. well that is over. as far as me being traffic control supervisor, im not very pretentious and dont let the title get to my head. as far as i see it im just a tool at their disposal, kinda like an air compressor or truck. they see my hard work ethic and my aptitude and figured i could pass a test to get certified. dont get me wrong, i know they actually like me too personally, but i would rather have monetary compensation over a fancy title...i guess it will look good on my resume later. i think i'm a pretty good supervisor though because i lead by example and i dont get easily angry and i honestly dont feel im better than anyone else. im not a pushover either, im fair but very firm. i have two young russian guys as my helpers and as i'm driving around they are teaching me russian. they say i'm pretty good with my pronunciation and they are impressed by my retention skills. anyways im still recovering from my sleep deprivation-- sumachechi (russian for crazy).
Saturday, February 14, 2009
work pics
well apparently it is not loading up the pics...will try one more time...all is well and my ankle is not hurting so much anymore.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
work
well im here in jacksonville and back at work...my first day, monday, my feet, ankle and knee were killing me...im officially on traffic control. im closing the lane along with three other guys (even though one guy doesnt count)...i have to be running, playing frogger across a busy highway with my sprained ankle (not very fun). on tuesday i was getting a little more used to it, but my ankle still hurts when i run across the freeway dodging traffic...needless to say i asked for a raise as the chances of getting hit by a car is greater than falling off the damn bridge...i will be getting one as soon as i pass my certification from traffic school which i will take next week in west palm beach, florida...today i was staking in posts for the street signs with Leo and Jose...on the last stake i was hammering in Leo tells me to hurry up because we had to go pick up the cones from the lane...well, i hit it with all i had, and burst open a water pipe...surprisingly, Leo did not yell at me...he did not even give me "the look" (which has been known to make grown men cry)...i think they must like me...anyways, that doesnt make them work me any less...today i am so tired which means im just getting back in shape...tomorrow, i go in at nine to fill out paperwork and to take my drug test...and for the first time, im not sweating it and/or asking for more time...i feel kinda proud...anyways that is all for today...36 hours in 3 days...will post some pics tomorrow...
Saturday, January 17, 2009
For Kelsey
well the door is painted, but when i removed the tape, chunks of the latex paint came up with it (both brown and green). i touched up some of the brown that peeled off, and it looks good from a distance, but up close...well. i still have not painted the border around it with the beige (as you can see). i still have some touch-up to do but it is better for nothing. thank you for taking your time to console me yesterday kels. i appreciate that as i was feeling so all alone.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
this is a picture of our house,
and i know the feelings it just might arouse.
i know you clearly remember,
it is the middle of friggin' winter.
you might expect this in spring,
and i know the feelings it surely brings.
i know nostalgia comes creeping in,
but please remember it's just a thing.
the pride we feel was felt before,
by minds that lived and surely stored
each waking moment in their lives,
and no longer live to tell their side.
happy moments still reside,
but surely somewhere sadness hides,
inside its walls as well as out.
that's what life is all about.
sorry, i was reading shel silverstein and thought i'd try....
chloe's artwork
this is a drawing chloe made for her grandma. one day while she was playing with her crayons i suggested to kelsey that maybe we should send her mom one of chloe's drawings for christmas. kelsey told me that, in fact, what her mom had asked for was the girl's handprints. so we were going to do that also, but in the meantime i thought it would also be cool to send in one of her drawings. so i pulled out an 11x14 drawing paper. chloe gets the paper and says "ooh, nice paper." and this is what she came out with. i see a bird (replete with wings and an eyeball). anyways, this post is for you karen.
Friday, January 9, 2009
pistachio update
well, quarantine time is over. her fur is soft and silky, though she is shedding the winter coat she managed to grow those few days of being outdoors (who knew she had it in her). she is much less needy but does like me to be with her while she eats. she is not as skinny but she aint fat ass yet (she never really was fat, we just like to give our pets a complex. keep 'em humble so to say), but i started calling her fat already. i even flicked her off today, for old time's sake. now bathroom decontamination is in order. ps. i think the quarantine worked, as i have not seen/felt any fleas.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Dust
dust. where the hell does it come from? i know its pet dander, human skin, even insect and mite particles, but seriously, where does it all come from. i've been cleaning the house (as best as i know how) and dust just appears. my uncle gave me a new computer that i set up less than a week ago and i could see the dust all over the desk and the computer. i cleaned up the windows and the all other areas around the windows where dust is likely to accumulate and still, dust is present. do i need to change the a/c filter? even now the sun is coming in through our living room window and i see all kinds of particles floating there as if they were invited guests. well, at least im glad i have nose hairs to filter some of it out (im hoping my moustache does the same)...
i know this entry is lame, but its just an observation. anyone have any ideas, hints, or solutions about what to do with all the dust???
i know this entry is lame, but its just an observation. anyone have any ideas, hints, or solutions about what to do with all the dust???
Friday, January 2, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
"skinny" "ass" update
we normally call pistachio fatass. but today she is skinny ass. she is totally needy.poor kitten her whole world as she knew it totally collapsed. i kinda feel her pain.
except i dont have fleas, and i actually started eating already.
happy 2009
happy new year's to all. i hope 2009 goes well for all. especially for me. 2008 was a tough one for me. it greeted me with pain with what i thought was a broken ankle. then the sewer line broke costing a couple grand we could have saved. the cowboys were eliminated from the playoffs in january. i was run over by a forklift. i spent a very painful 3 months of recovery. i ached and pained another 3-4 months of work, followed by more pain when i came home. i likened the pain to needles being stabbed from one side to another. kinda like a vodoo doll. very, very painful. a tree branch broke and cracked the truck windshield. my heart was ripped, stepped and spat on. the cowboys were emabarassed by the eagles causing them to not make the playoffs. 2008 was a motherfucker.
hope 2009 works out better.
highlights of 2008:
-chloe spontaneously bursts out: "i lub (love) daddy" (i was so proud)
-i got to at least partake of some time getting to meet leyla. i love her spirit. a perfect mix of toughness and sweetness.
-i was blessed with life and still have the ability to work.
hope 2009 works out better.
highlights of 2008:
-chloe spontaneously bursts out: "i lub (love) daddy" (i was so proud)
-i got to at least partake of some time getting to meet leyla. i love her spirit. a perfect mix of toughness and sweetness.
-i was blessed with life and still have the ability to work.
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