Woops, where'd I go?

It all started with a trip down to Washington DC about 10 days ago... That's when I left for a 4 day blogger hiatus.





Crickets say, *chirp chirp*



Its not that I forgot to come back. It is just that I am willing to bet that my few readers would prefer that I actually put forth some thought rather than just puke up any clever thing I can find.

I do however owe y'all an apology for not replying to your comments. I'm sorry. They were all read and loved but I simply didn't have anything to say. After the trip, I got home and buckled down to a very busy week. Every day after work there was... uh... hrm. There was something I'm sure. *drums fingers* Well, whatever it was I'm sure I had good reasons for doing it instead of blogging. Like sleeping. I experienced incredible fatigue during the four days that I traveled. Then it doubled in the days after. There was also much vegging out with MD and watching the 4th season of Buffy. Perhaps it is that I would prefer to say different things than talk about my life lately. Unfortunately, there are no works ready for exposure so as to fulfill my wishes. I have a few written works in progress. That is all.

sass dot

Then again, sometimes I witness things that I'm certain you kind peeps will find as crazy as I did. I do my best to recall such things because I love to hear what you say and then I get the bug to chat with you again. Do you see how I have this full circle of inconsistency? It isn't intentional, I assure you. It cuts into many facets of my life and its frustrating. Yet sometimes its both fun and productive to be that manic. Like right now. In fact, it is that constant traversing of activity that is largely responsible for nearly every hiatus I have had-blogging or other hobbies as well, really. I'd like to write these posts regularly. Daily even, but often I loop around and its easier for me to talk. Wait a week later and all my best words are falling from my fingers onto these keys again. Then a term of nothing but work sleep and feed.

sass dot

Let me just take a second to thank MD whole-heartedly. I now grok the comfort of spending my evening about my house in my birthday suit. You taught me that :) Thanks babe.

sass dot

Speaking of finding crazy things, I had the privilege of taking an in depth tour of Air Force One while I visited DC. It was parked in its hangar at the time. It was fascinating, inspiring, garish and fearsome. You would not believe the conspicuous consumption. I noted the board game of Risk in the closet of the conference room on the plane. Very funny. What else... Hmm. Got to see the cockpit. Jet-head that I am, I've never seen one in person before. The size of this fucking plane...

Ooh! The whole damn thing is regularly polished by all ranks of those who support its existence. It is certainly very shiny.

The press has to pay to fly on it, rather than the taxpayers footing the bill. It is the only ticket more expensive than commercial first class short of buying your own private passage.

There are at least 85 telephones on the plane.

I was curious about a device I noticed on the aircraft and upon enquiring I was simply told, "Don't worry about it."

I sat in the Dude's office chair on the plane as well (email me to learn more about this experience).

"Knock, knock."
'Whose there?'
"Titanium"
'Titanium who?'
"Titanium lamps on this plane."

Wanna here another one?

I saw the escape pod. Its right on the deck below the arsenal. Just like in the movie "Air Force One".

Okay, one more. Geez- tough crowd!

So I walk into Air Force One and I note the wood veneer paneling that lines the outer walls inside the plane bears wood grain that looks as though it was all cut from the same tree. There are cupboards and closet faces to match. They all run together seamlessly. Attention to the smallest details. Oh! You dented or scratched the panel? Not to worry! *Calls Boeing* Yeah guys, I need a replacement panel J-13 installed ASAP. An exact replica will have been installed and you won't have known the difference. Right down to the matching wood grain as if it were from the same tree.

Guess which 2 of these 3 jokes are true.


At the end of the tour, I walk toward the exit of the building through a long hallway. It was flanked on both sides in its entire length with photographs that were taken on the President's plane since planes were first given to US Presidents. They were all there. Some later photos had as many as three ex-prez's on the plane together with the current model. They were en-route to a King's funeral ceremony. There was also, of course, the one of LB Johnson being sworn in while Jackie witnessed shortly after Kennedy was shot. Another of General Swartzkoff conferring with Bush Sr. over a foreign map. It was these photos that rendered the tour unsettling. It was as if I could actually feel the power emanating from these pictures. All Presidents. All men. All white. All powerful.

sass dot

The sky is overcast here tonight but the clouds' high ceiling bounces all the city's lights back down and I can see everything terrestrial. I really did rent this place for the view and it is worth it for that alone. The living space made it all but perfect. Yup. All except for that nice Catholic guy and his daily blessing of canine urine upon by balcony. That son of a bitch is lucky it has been rainy and cold as fuck. If it weren't for that, I'd care far more about the problem. Still, should the snow come, I'll photograph the yellow parts and ship them off to the department of health. Whatever. It isn't like I sleep out there.

The winds are very very strong out there tonight. It blasts the side of my building and I wonder how much wind is needed to crack and break rusty railings...

sass dot

Oh! Here's a life experience point that I don't think I needed: I got hit by a car while riding my bike to work earlier this week. Know what? It sucked. The cab didn't signal that he was going to pull over so his fare could get out. They were just stopped at an intersection like everyone else when the car door opened into my bike lane. The kid didn't even look. About three more inches and I'd have cleared it and continued on but no. I was going fast so I hit it very hard. The door buried its outer reaches into my thigh muscles and I ricochet off into the curb smacking down with many parts getting squashed and my head landed directly between 2 sign posts mounted in the cement. I was instantly crazy with rage. I was really hurt but adrenaline took over and I whipped up to my feet and shouting, demanded that the passenger come out of the car (he had shut it after realizing what he had done). I screamed, "GET OUT HERE NOW YOU STUPID LITTLE FUCKING PRICK!" By this time, the cabbie and two other motorists were at the back window on my behalf cutting a scared 12 year old boy down to size. He was coaxed from the car balling his eyes out and I continued, "YOU HAVE TO CHECK EVERY TIME! E V E R Y FUCKING TIME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?" His eyes reflected watery fear as he nodded.

Yes I know he's only 12 and I do feel bad for being hard on him but here's the deal. 1. I know damn well I'm not going to hit him. Not even if he were an adult. 2. At that time, fear was my best option to use to drill this very important safety tip deep into his memory. "you have to check every single time" was repeated by me at least thrice.

The cabbie should have pulled over for sure but the kid was riding with an adult, maybe an older brother, and I suppose he didn't because the kid was just popping out at the light to dart off to the school across the street. Makes sense but its still illegal as hell. They can lose their license for that shit. I walked away from the ordeal. Minimal insignificant damage to my bike, but I was sent home early from work because it was very hard to walk and we had no ice other than the emergency ice packs in the medicine cabinet. It needed to be elevated and iced rather than walking on it. This was about 4 days ago now. Since then I have discovered many more bruises. They all hurt. They're all pretty colours. The biggest of which is the one on my thigh. It starts to my knee and curves around in and then back out, nearly to the top of my leg. A full 12 inches of delightful hematoma.

I was very lucky. And I love my life.

sass dot

Perhaps I should try to like the idea of posting twice per week instead of 7 times...

sass dot

Remember in the first paragraph when I said, "That is all"? Uh-huh. That was supposed to be the end of this post and I was going to return to my solitary evening. Let's try that again.

I missed you guys.
That is all.