Month: August 2021

Who Needs Sleep?

Both of my parents are asleep. That is good. I’m not. There’s stuff going on that I want to stay awake for. I’m distracting myself from the fact that I am here when I don’t want to be here by mixing some music. Magically, there’s a song that I think might be pretty good. Short and sweet and good.

#Sarcasm

<sarcasm>

I’m back to my parents place for the night and it’s awesome. It’s a total blast. I have no residual emotional stress relating to spending nights in the house where I was so depressed that my best friend once told me he was worried I was going to do something to hurt myself. Nope, I feel great now. Just wonderful.

Obviously those fears were unjustified, but there were times when I was worried about the same thing. All of that was in this house. Yup, I love it here. Just love being here. Sure, the day I moved out ranks in the top five happiest days of my life*, but that doesn’t mean that staying here again isn’t the most awesome, awesome thing I could do.

Being here is the best.

</sarcasm>

*Off the top of my head, could my short list of happiest moments be?…

1. Our wedding.
2. Jen saying yes when I proposed.
3. Falling for Jen.
4. Meeting the kids.
5. Moving in with Jen and the kids.
6. Buying and moving into a house of our own.
7. Harry being his old self again after a couple of days worth of near unconsciousness in the PICU.
8 & 9 (tied). Bellana and Harry graduating from high school.
10. Raising the double freedom rockets and giving a hearty fuck you to the previous 33 years of failure and misery in my life and finally graduating from college.

Like I said, that’s just off the top of my head. If I really sat down and examined my emotional state during all of these experiences, number 7 would likely jump a lot higher on that list. Possibly because the events leading up to that wonderful moment are hands down, no question number one on the list of the worst moments of my life. Like, no contest. As bad as things are now and as bad as all the bad things that have happened to me and to those I care about throughout the last 50 years, nothing comes close to being as terrifying and horrible as Harry’s time in the hospital during the first days of diabetes. That first time he got himself up out of the hospital bed and sat up in a chair and talked to us as if nothing happened… fuck me, that was a glorious moment. That was bliss. I will treasure that particular happy moment forever.

Binge Watch Troubles

Years ago we watched a show on Netflix called The IT Crowd. It was really funny. Years later I saw an episode of Community with one of the IT Crowd cast members and thought it was really funny. Then I started watching What We Do in the Shadows with that same IT Crowd actor in it and that show is fucking riotous. The actor’s name is Matt Berry and I started wondering if maybe he was the funniest person on Earth. Could be. I’m not sure. I heard about a BBC show he co-wrote and starred in called Toast of London that is on Netflix. I started watching, for research of course. It’s funny. Not nearly as funny as the other shows though. It’s very English. Like… IT Crowd was super English, but Toast of London is Englisher. At least English in the way that a douche bag from the US like me would think is English.

Whatever, it’s funny even if it isn’t as funny as The IT Crowd. The reason I’m writing about it is that there are three seasons on Netflix. One has seven episodes, two and three have six each. I finished the first season today and then found out that Netflix is dropping the show on the 31st. Muthapussbucket! Can I rage through the second and third seasons (12 episodes) before the 31st?

Challenge accepted. Though the answer is no, I am not going to finish before Netflix pulls it.

Umbrella Problems

Twice now I have had trouble opening up the patio umbrella. The boom arm thingie won’t slide into place correctly. Last time I was able to do it but today it didn’t quite open all the way.

Shit.

I was able to refill the line in the weed wacker, but it doesn’t quite auto-fill as it’s running. I can work around that, but still…

Shit.

The grass is 10 feet tall. Today is the only day I have to cut it. It looks like it poured rain last night and it’s starting to rain again.

Shit.

Home for Now

Another chapter in the never ending story comes to a close and I go home again. I was 36 when I moved out of that house (April 2008) and lets say for the last 10-11 years I was miserable pretty much every second I was there. Then after my mother’s cancer I was there to watch her every other Friday for… what was it… eight more years? Now for the last five months it’s been 24 out of every 72 hours, approximately. I honestly can’t put into words how much just being in the house hurts me. That’s not even considering my parents’ health situations, which by themselves are soul crushing. Just being in that house makes me miserable.

I’m going back tomorrow night because why not just destroy my soul while I have the chance, right? I know it’s the right thing to do, and I know I have to do it and I know and I know and I know. Being the right thing doesn’t change the fact that the house itself is my personal hell.

The overnights should be ending soon. Unless the universe is fucking with us, hard… and I am not willing to discount that as a possibility, it should be ending soon.

Not soon enough.

…and I go back tomorrow night.

Prime Meridian

I was upstairs at the parents house trying to take apart a twin bed and I found an old roll of pictures. Included were a couple of shots from a band practice in, probably, 1999.

My Les Paul Custom as it was when I bought it, before the pick ups and machine heads were changed. Also, my old solid state Fender amp from before it took a bath in gasoline (literally):

Also, more significantly, Mike’s black Rickenbacker!

Damn Phone

I’m here at my parents house and it’s been a relatively quiet day. I sorted out the pills, started some laundry, and did a couple of other little things. The Home Care Professional (hero) is here and she was helping dad with some things. My mother was in her room reading the paper.

I thought to myself… do I dare? Do I dare watch a show on Netflix while I wait for the laundry to finish? Let’s try it. Toast of London, season one episode three (I am trying to decide if Matt Berry is the funniest person on Earth. Still not sure, but I do know that Ray Bloody Purchase is an asshole), I put on my headphones and press play…

…and the fucking phone rings. Oh for crying out loud.