(no subject)
ok.
thursday kicked off a string of very unusual days and nights that seem to still have yet to end.
thursday evening Reckner showed up unannounced with a box of tacks, a couple bowls and 63 pieces of paper covered in black squares.
so we got high and tacked squares to my wall while listening to the Brak show.
Time is an abstract concept created by carbon-based life-forms to monitor their ongoing decay.
after i finished tacking the first row of squares to my wall I admitted "well, todays suddenly taken an unexpected turn."
DELIGHTFUL, nonetheless.
we went and FINALLY saw Borat.
i got a whopping 3 hours of sleep.
i woke up, ran 5 miles and did 300 crunches.
peter, honk and i spent most the day throwing paper wads at each other and calling each other shit.
happy hour kicked off 9 hours of drinking.
then it was off to a tejano bar on the east side to sit around a chiminea and listen to funk music.
i told honk:
hey even though we dont have a water cooler i think we're still free to form alliances so you and peter are in my alliance okay.
then they kicked us gringos out.
so honk and i went back to his place and smoked a few bowls.
and then I told honk:
holy hell ive been awake 24 hours.
2 spent running/crunching, 2 getting ready for the next 20, 9 throwing paper wads at boys, 9 drinking and 2 smoking.
so i went home with the intent of beginning a different breakdown of hours, starting with a more sane 8 hours of sleep.
I made the mistake of checking my email. chad wrote to let me know andreas mom passed away.
i tossed a bit then my phone rang and it was mom calling to tell me charlie passed away.
dad hadnt left the shack. spent the night out there.
I tried to put off thinking about it until monday but failed.
I cried a bit while shopping for leggings.
jennifer arrived and called me a tranny and we went to see Demitri Martin.
we shared milk duds and agreed that we made a great lesbian couple.
i felt like in my leggings, jean mini skirt, hoodie and sparkly gold heels i fit in quite well at the crazy shoe party.
and yeah, maybe a little like a transvestite.
we ate chips and drank beer. and tried to make a game out of finding the mates of each shoe that was hanging from the ceiling.
i returned home.
I slept until 3pm and called holly to ask who slipped me the fucking roofie or what.
Holly didnt know why i slipped into a coma but she sure did cook me some squash.
stuffed acorn squash will be my meal before dying thank you please.
i returned home to coma again.
by this time its monday so I called into work and headed HOMEhome.
dad showed me his new bike.
then he tried to blow up a balloon.
then we headed out to the ranch for the funeral.
I was shocked by how many people came. Ive never seen that many cars on the land.
and by cars, i mean diesel trucks.
Charlie Weidner was born Feb 11, 1923. he was 2 lbs 2 ozs and they kept him in a bread box in the oven.
by the age of 13 he was running the whole ranch himself.
he was born and died in the same house.
i think it took me 18 years to understand his german-texan grumbles.
his sons talked about how the main tractor broke on friday when he passed and it wont start again.
everyone cried at the tractor that would only run for charlie.
roger played his favorite songs on the accordion.
the lawyer showed up with 2 chiuauas.
by this point i was somehow wearing a poncho.
everyone tailgated.
kids ran around climbing the trees amanda and i used to live in as children.
(charlie always nailed steps for us on the good trees)
dad, matt, roger, ruth, mike and i left the party/wake and went up to bigfoot for whiskey.
we sat on the front porch and roger played his accordion and matt played his mandolin.
dad told funny charlie stories. and talked about the "taco curtain".
i read the bigfoot memoir.
we laughed. (especially when bigfoot partied with emilio estevez in the 80s)
then we drank more whiskey.
then JR showed up with his real estate business cards.
at a funeral.
because the land is in question.
people can be DISGUSTING.
dad told him to leave.
we drank more whiskey.
dad, ruth, mike and roger had "work tomorrow".
matt and i didnt care.
we finished the whiskey.
we went back to the house for beers around the campfire.
we sat around the fire with helen (the love of charlies life), ronnie (a cowboy in a cast) and a bunch of people who kept telling me how i used to be "this high!"
ive grown like a weed.
i also looked like a movie star in the cemetery, with my big sunglasses.
travis and i hugged and admitted we didnt even recognize each other.
Lorie and i swapped dump stories.
i turned to matt and told him we're lucky to have this.
you know, dump stories to swap.
the river. the accordions and mandolins and whiskey on the front porch. the ponchos. the iranian embassy.
lord knows whats to become of it now that charlie is gone.
time will tell.
i went in from the fire to help Helen clean up in the kitchen.
being the typical faux-grandmother she is, she wouldnt let me help. and made me eat more cake.
i left at 1am.
my alarm went off at 7am this morning and i thought about yesterday and how I hadnt cared that i had work today.
I suddenly cared.
my head hurts.
even after a much too long shower, i still smell like campfire.
my lip is swollen. i think i was biting it a lot in the cemetery.
im still full of cake.
i came into work and paint chips has been showering me with gifts.
shes given me a giant cardboard alligator, an old packet of mayonaise and xeroxed her hand to add to my collection of xeroxed hands.
cadyn is xeroxing hers now.
theres thanksgiving dinner "...or whatever" in the conference room but i seriously think i will be full of cake for weeks to come.
when i die, please throw me a party like that.
thursday kicked off a string of very unusual days and nights that seem to still have yet to end.
thursday evening Reckner showed up unannounced with a box of tacks, a couple bowls and 63 pieces of paper covered in black squares.
so we got high and tacked squares to my wall while listening to the Brak show.
Time is an abstract concept created by carbon-based life-forms to monitor their ongoing decay.
after i finished tacking the first row of squares to my wall I admitted "well, todays suddenly taken an unexpected turn."
DELIGHTFUL, nonetheless.
we went and FINALLY saw Borat.
i got a whopping 3 hours of sleep.
i woke up, ran 5 miles and did 300 crunches.
peter, honk and i spent most the day throwing paper wads at each other and calling each other shit.
happy hour kicked off 9 hours of drinking.
then it was off to a tejano bar on the east side to sit around a chiminea and listen to funk music.
i told honk:
hey even though we dont have a water cooler i think we're still free to form alliances so you and peter are in my alliance okay.
then they kicked us gringos out.
so honk and i went back to his place and smoked a few bowls.
and then I told honk:
holy hell ive been awake 24 hours.
2 spent running/crunching, 2 getting ready for the next 20, 9 throwing paper wads at boys, 9 drinking and 2 smoking.
so i went home with the intent of beginning a different breakdown of hours, starting with a more sane 8 hours of sleep.
I made the mistake of checking my email. chad wrote to let me know andreas mom passed away.
i tossed a bit then my phone rang and it was mom calling to tell me charlie passed away.
dad hadnt left the shack. spent the night out there.
I tried to put off thinking about it until monday but failed.
I cried a bit while shopping for leggings.
jennifer arrived and called me a tranny and we went to see Demitri Martin.
we shared milk duds and agreed that we made a great lesbian couple.
i felt like in my leggings, jean mini skirt, hoodie and sparkly gold heels i fit in quite well at the crazy shoe party.
and yeah, maybe a little like a transvestite.
we ate chips and drank beer. and tried to make a game out of finding the mates of each shoe that was hanging from the ceiling.
i returned home.
I slept until 3pm and called holly to ask who slipped me the fucking roofie or what.
Holly didnt know why i slipped into a coma but she sure did cook me some squash.
stuffed acorn squash will be my meal before dying thank you please.
i returned home to coma again.
by this time its monday so I called into work and headed HOMEhome.
dad showed me his new bike.
then he tried to blow up a balloon.
then we headed out to the ranch for the funeral.
I was shocked by how many people came. Ive never seen that many cars on the land.
and by cars, i mean diesel trucks.
Charlie Weidner was born Feb 11, 1923. he was 2 lbs 2 ozs and they kept him in a bread box in the oven.
by the age of 13 he was running the whole ranch himself.
he was born and died in the same house.
i think it took me 18 years to understand his german-texan grumbles.
his sons talked about how the main tractor broke on friday when he passed and it wont start again.
everyone cried at the tractor that would only run for charlie.
roger played his favorite songs on the accordion.
the lawyer showed up with 2 chiuauas.
by this point i was somehow wearing a poncho.
everyone tailgated.
kids ran around climbing the trees amanda and i used to live in as children.
(charlie always nailed steps for us on the good trees)
dad, matt, roger, ruth, mike and i left the party/wake and went up to bigfoot for whiskey.
we sat on the front porch and roger played his accordion and matt played his mandolin.
dad told funny charlie stories. and talked about the "taco curtain".
i read the bigfoot memoir.
we laughed. (especially when bigfoot partied with emilio estevez in the 80s)
then we drank more whiskey.
then JR showed up with his real estate business cards.
at a funeral.
because the land is in question.
people can be DISGUSTING.
dad told him to leave.
we drank more whiskey.
dad, ruth, mike and roger had "work tomorrow".
matt and i didnt care.
we finished the whiskey.
we went back to the house for beers around the campfire.
we sat around the fire with helen (the love of charlies life), ronnie (a cowboy in a cast) and a bunch of people who kept telling me how i used to be "this high!"
ive grown like a weed.
i also looked like a movie star in the cemetery, with my big sunglasses.
travis and i hugged and admitted we didnt even recognize each other.
Lorie and i swapped dump stories.
i turned to matt and told him we're lucky to have this.
you know, dump stories to swap.
the river. the accordions and mandolins and whiskey on the front porch. the ponchos. the iranian embassy.
lord knows whats to become of it now that charlie is gone.
time will tell.
i went in from the fire to help Helen clean up in the kitchen.
being the typical faux-grandmother she is, she wouldnt let me help. and made me eat more cake.
i left at 1am.
my alarm went off at 7am this morning and i thought about yesterday and how I hadnt cared that i had work today.
I suddenly cared.
my head hurts.
even after a much too long shower, i still smell like campfire.
my lip is swollen. i think i was biting it a lot in the cemetery.
im still full of cake.
i came into work and paint chips has been showering me with gifts.
shes given me a giant cardboard alligator, an old packet of mayonaise and xeroxed her hand to add to my collection of xeroxed hands.
cadyn is xeroxing hers now.
theres thanksgiving dinner "...or whatever" in the conference room but i seriously think i will be full of cake for weeks to come.
when i die, please throw me a party like that.