"No hay banda! There is no band. It is all an illusion..." - Bondar
I haven't posted anything of substance for some time now. I feel a ramble building up and need to release some of the pressure. As I type this post, be aware the words you read are merely a distraction, like the wild hand gestures of a spastic magician, to prevent you from discovering the underlying demons I'm wrestling. Think for example of David Lynch's Mulholland Dr.
I really think I need some dirt therapy. With the transition of the weather from winter to spring I'm starting to realize that I've been stuck inside for too long, suffering from a bit of cabin fever. After last summer's dry spell, which continues even now in the wake of the tornado we had in downtown Atlanta this weekend past, I feared I'd lost all of the plants I adopted over the previous year. Fortunately some are starting to show signs of life again. One of my little huechera plants is clumping nicely. I'm really surprised and greatly pleased all three of the creeping Jennys I planted are starting to sprout after dying back completely. I was sure those aquaphiles would croak with as little water as we've had. I'm not too worried about many of my hostas, as cheap as most of them were. If some of the more expensive ones don't make it, well I did enjoy them while they lasted.
I think I'll be moving two of my forsythias as soon as they drop their flowers. I am so frustrated with my daffodils. Out of about 40 plants only 3 bloomed. I know it's not their fault, they just don't get enough sunlight in the beds they are in. I have to do something about that when the season is over. The squirrels have replanted several of my grape hyacinths throughout my yard. There's not a whole lot to them, but they are a cheery bright blue like the livejournal usernames. Maybe I can be bothered to dig them up and place 'em back in the beds with their mates, and maybe I can't.
I need to get my taxes done. I don't know why I've been putting it off for so long. I sure could use the return money to pay down my credit card. My car will be paid off this month, so hopefully I can be debt free (except for my house note) by Christmas if I play my cards right. I curse the day I ever met the credit card man handing out free t-shirts by the student center in college. That should be something you are taught in high school with a cattle prod, before you ever get to college you should be so scared of credit cards you curl up in a fetal ball and start gibbering like a chimp if anyone even suggests you "fill this out and get a free t-shirt." I bet if I'd never bought Pink Floyd's The Wall on credit, I could afford to pay Roger Waters and David Gilmore so much money they'd put aside their petty differences and play a concert in my living room.
I'm still just as sick as I can be over
gusporterhouse and pray daily for the family he's made for himself way out yonder and his speedy recovery. Not to make light of what he's going through, but emotionally I wonder if it hasn't been harder on me, to the point it invades my dreams, no joke. To borrow a line from Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."
Congratulations are in order for
msotisregrets. I want to wish you all the best with your new mate. And I can't wait for you to win your first Oscar. I can say, "yeah, I knew her way back when she just started racking up on the local awards."
It seems
tubadammiitt thinks I did such a swell job as his best man at the last wedding he wants me to do it again. Now I just have to resist the urge to compare his new hotness with the old busted as I try to craft the perfect toast. I just hope we don't have to bury this one as deep as we did the last. Maybe if I'm a good boy we can wear sidearms to the reception this time, or at very least a ceremonial sword.
I really think I need some dirt therapy. With the transition of the weather from winter to spring I'm starting to realize that I've been stuck inside for too long, suffering from a bit of cabin fever. After last summer's dry spell, which continues even now in the wake of the tornado we had in downtown Atlanta this weekend past, I feared I'd lost all of the plants I adopted over the previous year. Fortunately some are starting to show signs of life again. One of my little huechera plants is clumping nicely. I'm really surprised and greatly pleased all three of the creeping Jennys I planted are starting to sprout after dying back completely. I was sure those aquaphiles would croak with as little water as we've had. I'm not too worried about many of my hostas, as cheap as most of them were. If some of the more expensive ones don't make it, well I did enjoy them while they lasted.
I think I'll be moving two of my forsythias as soon as they drop their flowers. I am so frustrated with my daffodils. Out of about 40 plants only 3 bloomed. I know it's not their fault, they just don't get enough sunlight in the beds they are in. I have to do something about that when the season is over. The squirrels have replanted several of my grape hyacinths throughout my yard. There's not a whole lot to them, but they are a cheery bright blue like the livejournal usernames. Maybe I can be bothered to dig them up and place 'em back in the beds with their mates, and maybe I can't.
I need to get my taxes done. I don't know why I've been putting it off for so long. I sure could use the return money to pay down my credit card. My car will be paid off this month, so hopefully I can be debt free (except for my house note) by Christmas if I play my cards right. I curse the day I ever met the credit card man handing out free t-shirts by the student center in college. That should be something you are taught in high school with a cattle prod, before you ever get to college you should be so scared of credit cards you curl up in a fetal ball and start gibbering like a chimp if anyone even suggests you "fill this out and get a free t-shirt." I bet if I'd never bought Pink Floyd's The Wall on credit, I could afford to pay Roger Waters and David Gilmore so much money they'd put aside their petty differences and play a concert in my living room.
I'm still just as sick as I can be over
gusporterhouse and pray daily for the family he's made for himself way out yonder and his speedy recovery. Not to make light of what he's going through, but emotionally I wonder if it hasn't been harder on me, to the point it invades my dreams, no joke. To borrow a line from Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."
Congratulations are in order for
msotisregrets. I want to wish you all the best with your new mate. And I can't wait for you to win your first Oscar. I can say, "yeah, I knew her way back when she just started racking up on the local awards."
It seems
tubadammiitt thinks I did such a swell job as his best man at the last wedding he wants me to do it again. Now I just have to resist the urge to compare his new hotness with the old busted as I try to craft the perfect toast. I just hope we don't have to bury this one as deep as we did the last. Maybe if I'm a good boy we can wear sidearms to the reception this time, or at very least a ceremonial sword.