Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Broken Tractor
I was driving my tractor up some steps when it died and began to hemorrhage fluids. I walked back to where I had been and asked who works on tractors and was given the name of a business, I believe it was called San Man. I found the business, but realized I couldn't give them the location of the tractor. So I went back to find it and got totally lost. I wandered through all kinds of buildings that were like mazes and never found the tractor again but met plenty of people who weren't happy to see me.
The tractor was green, like a John Deere, if that helps.
The tractor was green, like a John Deere, if that helps.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Check out my new ink!
First I was at work and a helicopter was flying really close to our windows. Then the guy flying it smiled at me and just stepped out of it. I freaked out and yelled to my boss that the helicopter was going to crash and she seemed amused.
Next there was something about being at church and I was changing clothes and I was not happy with how big my breasts were getting to be and definitely planning to have something done about it. There were all these little kids and I got irritated with them and called one a "little blonde weirdo". They were from a new family and were showing off the athletic skills of one of their toddlers.
"Just throw anything at him," they said. "He'll catch it." And he could. There was a younger set of twins that were kind of odd looking with lots of fresh stitching on their heads and faces.
I was on my way somewhere and ran into Doug from where I used to work and showed off my new tattoo.
Before I left for good, I had a conversation with a cat. It was black and someone, probably those damn new kids had dyed its head yellow, and it's front torso red and it's hind quarters blue, like they were trying to make it look like Mr. Bill. It seemed to not be that upset about it and told me to have a good trip.
Next there was something about being at church and I was changing clothes and I was not happy with how big my breasts were getting to be and definitely planning to have something done about it. There were all these little kids and I got irritated with them and called one a "little blonde weirdo". They were from a new family and were showing off the athletic skills of one of their toddlers.
"Just throw anything at him," they said. "He'll catch it." And he could. There was a younger set of twins that were kind of odd looking with lots of fresh stitching on their heads and faces.
I was on my way somewhere and ran into Doug from where I used to work and showed off my new tattoo.
Before I left for good, I had a conversation with a cat. It was black and someone, probably those damn new kids had dyed its head yellow, and it's front torso red and it's hind quarters blue, like they were trying to make it look like Mr. Bill. It seemed to not be that upset about it and told me to have a good trip.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Jennifer Livingston Is Smoking Hot Just The Way She Is
Jennifer Livingston is a news woman and a guy sent her an email that said stuff like "obesity is one of the worst choices a person can make" and how she should lose weight. I think she should have just deleted the email and ignored him. The very idea that someone would "choose" to be overweight is as stupid as the idea that one chooses to be gay. And as the news is rehashing this, they refer to her being overweight and it just pisses me off.
We're not talking about a woman who has to have a wall knocked out so she can leave the house. We are talking about a very attractive woman by any standard, as far as I am concerned. All I could think about as I watched her video response to this douchebag was how smoking hot she is. When she mentioned a husband, I thought what a lucky guy he is.
World is just messed up, giving a woman shit for not looking like Barbie. Fuck you, world. Eat shit and die.
We're not talking about a woman who has to have a wall knocked out so she can leave the house. We are talking about a very attractive woman by any standard, as far as I am concerned. All I could think about as I watched her video response to this douchebag was how smoking hot she is. When she mentioned a husband, I thought what a lucky guy he is.
World is just messed up, giving a woman shit for not looking like Barbie. Fuck you, world. Eat shit and die.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
It's OK.
I had a lot of errands to run this morning so my routine was all disrupted I guess and maybe my head wasn't where it should be. I went to the post office and stood in line but it didn't take all that long and I could have stopped and picked up something to eat on the way to work but all I did was just get some gas.
It wasn't the station I usually go to and that couldn't have been the problem. Getting gas is not a big deal. You select your payment method, say yes or no to a receipt and maybe decline a car wash. Let it fill, wash your windshield, put the nozzle back, put your cap back on and get your receipt.
For some reason I forgot the nozzle putting back part.
Some Mexican guys pulled up on the other side of my pump in a nice black Ford pickup and were talking back and forth in Spanish and I started to pull out and the one that was walking to the store pointed at me and said "Hey" and I realized what I was doing. I stopped and sure enough, the nozzle was on the ground. I thanked the man for flagging me down. I talked about what a stupid thing it was I had done.
The man still at the pickup on the other side of the pump said "Ees OK."
I guess it could have been worse, I could have pulled away while it was still filling, the hose could have been yanked from the pump, etc. The horror of the embarrassing, mistake in front of who knows how many witnesses was mitigated by the kind words of the man I didn't even see on the other side of the pump: "Ees OK."
Kindness is so humbling. Makes you think to be kind to others, instead of doing or saying things that will make their day worse. It's OK.
Gracias, amigo.
From now on, though, I'm standing right by the nozzle until it's done. I'll wash the windshield after I put everything up.
It wasn't the station I usually go to and that couldn't have been the problem. Getting gas is not a big deal. You select your payment method, say yes or no to a receipt and maybe decline a car wash. Let it fill, wash your windshield, put the nozzle back, put your cap back on and get your receipt.
For some reason I forgot the nozzle putting back part.
Some Mexican guys pulled up on the other side of my pump in a nice black Ford pickup and were talking back and forth in Spanish and I started to pull out and the one that was walking to the store pointed at me and said "Hey" and I realized what I was doing. I stopped and sure enough, the nozzle was on the ground. I thanked the man for flagging me down. I talked about what a stupid thing it was I had done.
The man still at the pickup on the other side of the pump said "Ees OK."
I guess it could have been worse, I could have pulled away while it was still filling, the hose could have been yanked from the pump, etc. The horror of the embarrassing, mistake in front of who knows how many witnesses was mitigated by the kind words of the man I didn't even see on the other side of the pump: "Ees OK."
Kindness is so humbling. Makes you think to be kind to others, instead of doing or saying things that will make their day worse. It's OK.
Gracias, amigo.
From now on, though, I'm standing right by the nozzle until it's done. I'll wash the windshield after I put everything up.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Insomnia
When I lay on my back in bed, my breasts disappear. I can lay in bed naked next to my girlfriend this way and not care much if she puts her hand there but she's somewhere else tonight. I think about whether I'd be a good candidate for a keyhole procedure. I think about how much I'm scared of doctors and try to forget it. I put my hand on my flattened chest and wonder what the big deal about nipples is anyway, it doesn't do anything for me to have them touched.
If I had it done, no one would probably notice, most shirts I wear are loose, but it would probably be obvious if I wore a polo and I have a lot of those. They hold up better than my button downs. The button downs get worn more and washed more and wear out faster. The polos usually are mixed fibers and wear like iron.
I try to remember the last time I was home visiting Dad. Have I been home this year? I try to remember the names of my step brothers and sisters kids. I can remember the first borns and second borns but the genders and names of thirds are eluding me. If they made me match the progeny to the parents, I'd probably fail. Some of the little blonds may have gone brunette or ginger and I would mix them up.
I'm in bed for a change, because you are supposed to sleep better in bed with no television on. I refuse to do the one thing that I know will zonk me out, get up, turn on the television and lay on the couch. I've been getting so stiff lately, I might end up with back or neck pain if I don't stop it. I can't be sleeping all that well on the couch. But I sure ain't sleeping good tonight.
I try to think about things that will inspire me to masturbate, another thing that might induce sleep, but I keep going over the very unerotic topic of the names of the newest children. Some of the names are weird, like they got them from bad Scrabble letters. I can't make a word with these letters but this looks like a cute baby name.
I think about the name I might take should I transition. Or even if I don't. I've always hated my name. I like Jim and Tom. I like Gus, because of Lonesome Dove. I like Zane and Jason and Justin and Miles. I like manly, unambiguous names. I wonder why so many trans men seem to go for variations of Aiden. I wonder why I can't sleep, why my mind won't shut off. I feel like I just had an energy shot and it's almost six in the morning and I last had one right before I started work at three in the afternoon the day before. I don't have to get up early but I try to be up by 10:30 to have plenty of time to get ready for work and maybe do yard work or run an errand before commuting.
Sometimes the sleep deprivation elevates my mood. I'm always happy to go to work these days. I like my job a lot. Yesterday there were four of us there at first, which isn't necessary, since there are only three stations. I was hoping I'd get a chance to walk down to the guard shack and see inside it but there was a training video to watch. When I was back in our room, the extra guy gives me his iPhone and has me play his racing game. I drive three races. I run off the track and hit other cars but I still win. I'm uncomfortable playing it, since I am at work, but there's not much going on yet and soon the extra guy will leave and fortunately the boss doesn't see me playing the game. I think how I ought to play Need For Speed with my steering wheel and pedals on my big screen TV. But I haven't gamed much since I started dating again.
I don't think about the future. I probably slept more than I thought and I don't feel that tired this morning. There was some kind of dream about someone knocking at my door but I can't remember how it goes now.
If I had it done, no one would probably notice, most shirts I wear are loose, but it would probably be obvious if I wore a polo and I have a lot of those. They hold up better than my button downs. The button downs get worn more and washed more and wear out faster. The polos usually are mixed fibers and wear like iron.
I try to remember the last time I was home visiting Dad. Have I been home this year? I try to remember the names of my step brothers and sisters kids. I can remember the first borns and second borns but the genders and names of thirds are eluding me. If they made me match the progeny to the parents, I'd probably fail. Some of the little blonds may have gone brunette or ginger and I would mix them up.
I'm in bed for a change, because you are supposed to sleep better in bed with no television on. I refuse to do the one thing that I know will zonk me out, get up, turn on the television and lay on the couch. I've been getting so stiff lately, I might end up with back or neck pain if I don't stop it. I can't be sleeping all that well on the couch. But I sure ain't sleeping good tonight.
I try to think about things that will inspire me to masturbate, another thing that might induce sleep, but I keep going over the very unerotic topic of the names of the newest children. Some of the names are weird, like they got them from bad Scrabble letters. I can't make a word with these letters but this looks like a cute baby name.
I think about the name I might take should I transition. Or even if I don't. I've always hated my name. I like Jim and Tom. I like Gus, because of Lonesome Dove. I like Zane and Jason and Justin and Miles. I like manly, unambiguous names. I wonder why so many trans men seem to go for variations of Aiden. I wonder why I can't sleep, why my mind won't shut off. I feel like I just had an energy shot and it's almost six in the morning and I last had one right before I started work at three in the afternoon the day before. I don't have to get up early but I try to be up by 10:30 to have plenty of time to get ready for work and maybe do yard work or run an errand before commuting.
Sometimes the sleep deprivation elevates my mood. I'm always happy to go to work these days. I like my job a lot. Yesterday there were four of us there at first, which isn't necessary, since there are only three stations. I was hoping I'd get a chance to walk down to the guard shack and see inside it but there was a training video to watch. When I was back in our room, the extra guy gives me his iPhone and has me play his racing game. I drive three races. I run off the track and hit other cars but I still win. I'm uncomfortable playing it, since I am at work, but there's not much going on yet and soon the extra guy will leave and fortunately the boss doesn't see me playing the game. I think how I ought to play Need For Speed with my steering wheel and pedals on my big screen TV. But I haven't gamed much since I started dating again.
I don't think about the future. I probably slept more than I thought and I don't feel that tired this morning. There was some kind of dream about someone knocking at my door but I can't remember how it goes now.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
current events- 9/11/12- it's not getting better
People love to get worked up. They latch on to a theme for their life and choose a path and stuff happens.
Last night I was trying to catch up on the latest shit storm going down in Egypt and Libya and keep my girlfriend awake as she drove over night. The last long distance girlfriend I had would hang up on me when she heard me playing games or watching videos during our hours long phone conversations. This one is more tolerant.
I was trying to watch the clip from the inflammatory movie that was causing people to die and it wasn't interesting and seemed vaguely random and lame and she kept saying "What are you doing?" so I decided to watch it later but it was made "private" today. Probably to keep other people from getting worked up.
Why did it seem like a good idea to head over to an embassy full of people who had nothing to do with making this movie? I guess you had to be there.
In our country, we have free speech. Anybody can say any damn stupid thing they want to. And they do. In other countries, not so much. It is too bad they feel motivated to kill people over words.
My sympathy goes out to the innocent who were murdered in Libya. When bad guys come, good guys need to grit their teeth and defend themselves. This time, there were too many bad guys.
Nobody owes bad guys apologies. Egypt should be apologizing to the US for the attack on our embassy. Same for Libya. Maybe we shouldn't have embassies in such lawless, uncivilized countries. Because I see no reason to be diplomatic with people who can't be reasoned with.
Last night I was trying to catch up on the latest shit storm going down in Egypt and Libya and keep my girlfriend awake as she drove over night. The last long distance girlfriend I had would hang up on me when she heard me playing games or watching videos during our hours long phone conversations. This one is more tolerant.
I was trying to watch the clip from the inflammatory movie that was causing people to die and it wasn't interesting and seemed vaguely random and lame and she kept saying "What are you doing?" so I decided to watch it later but it was made "private" today. Probably to keep other people from getting worked up.
Why did it seem like a good idea to head over to an embassy full of people who had nothing to do with making this movie? I guess you had to be there.
In our country, we have free speech. Anybody can say any damn stupid thing they want to. And they do. In other countries, not so much. It is too bad they feel motivated to kill people over words.
My sympathy goes out to the innocent who were murdered in Libya. When bad guys come, good guys need to grit their teeth and defend themselves. This time, there were too many bad guys.
Nobody owes bad guys apologies. Egypt should be apologizing to the US for the attack on our embassy. Same for Libya. Maybe we shouldn't have embassies in such lawless, uncivilized countries. Because I see no reason to be diplomatic with people who can't be reasoned with.
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