Shedio. Day 3.

I've been in the shedio for three days now.  I do get out for various necessities but for the most part have sentenced myself to the recesses of our house until I get this real estate book done.  Long ago I told the guy who's paying me to write it that "I had most of it together and it wouldn't take much more work."  He just took off for a family vacation to Mexico and now wants it done when he gets back.   I really need to hammer it out quickly.  I've been disappointing him a lot lately.  When he first hired me way back in April he was full of confidence and optimistic that I was the man for the job.   Now his inner glow is all dark and filled with stalactites of judgement.

It's very cold in the shedio.  A baby exhaling on my toes would better warm my feet than this space heater.  

I was just at the grocery store, a very public place with lots of people that look at the homeless with mistrust and disdain.  I know this because I look like the scariest mofo that's ever crawled out of the dumpster.  I didn't think about this until I asked the produce lady if they had any more of those little oranges and she recoiled like I might have a large bolt through my neck.  It was then, when Bernice was veering away from my breath stream, that I realized I might not be fit to be near perishables.   I saw my reflection in the cooler.  My winter layers say "derelict winter collection" and add the look of at least 100 pounds.  They incubate a core of uncleanliness pulsating stink like uranium would deadly radiation.  My facial growth blossoms at the top of a stem of graying neck hair.   Circles under my eyes paint a picture of a nocturnal beast creeping around people's backyards. 

There's also a hint of mustard.  It might be from yesterday's chicken strips.   

Ironic that one day my advice might help you purchase a home.   Chapter one:  Hot Tubs, Fruit Trees and Easy-Open Gates.

The Day After

For the last five days all I've done is eat, drink and watch football.  I saw so many games that instant replay delays alone took  four to six hours of my vacation.  And now I'm supposed to get something done.  That has yet to happen.

So since I'm lounging in my procrastination vacuum, let me take the time to offer two helpful hints.

1)  The Denver Post has an article on how to be happier.  Apparently years of research has yet to nail that down.  However there is one exercise other than nookie that seems to work.  When you get home tonight think of three good things that happened to you today.  Then think about how they happened and what you did to make them occur.  This introspection is supposed to help rewire your brain from thinking negatively about yourself to becoming more positive.  The article did not mention what you are supposed to do if you have nothing good to think about.  I'm going to branch out from the paper's resources and suggest drinking.  By the third beer you'll have three good things that have happened to you.

2)  Whenever I visit the in-laws in Houston I become their children's real, live-action plaything.  This actually happens wherever I go.  Kids gravitate to me and vice versa.  At first it's great but several hours later I can't get them to stop and eventually my wife finds me exhausted and collapsed in a pile of Barbie accessories and tiny pieces of the game Mousetrap.  But I have figured out how to entertain the children without getting up from the television.  I just tailor their games to fit my lifestyle.  Can't run and play tag while holding a beer?  Then just tell the kids that you're a dangerous bolder, maybe made of Kryptonite, and if they get near you they'll wither.  Then all you do is sit and drink while the excited young'ns run up to you and sprint away, giggling and loving life the entire time.   Another hit game, inspired by their father, is "None Shall Pass."  This does require you sit in an upright position and occasionally extend your arm, but for the most part it's conducive to drinking and football (viewing).  Whenever the child nears you simply put your arm out and announce "None Shall Pass!"   And then explain to them that the toll is something they'll have a difficult time finding.  It's like throwing a a ball a mile for a dog addicted to fetch.  You won't see them for hours while they search for a two-headed penny, a baby condor or a positive accomplishment during the Bush presidency. 

The Dangers of Health Food

An old adage says something about not going to the grocery store hungry.  I always do.  I go for milk and end up with six Slim Jims and a can of Pringles.  No leche.  But after today's eye appointment I figured it would be convenient to run over to the Sunflower natural market for some of the basics.  I like Sunflower because as one of their cashiers once told me, "our prices are lower than Whole Foods because we don't cater to high class people."  I didn't bother to ask what class I might represent.   Besides she was from some other country and her English was a little rough.   Or her assumption of my social standing might have had something to do with what I was buying.  I went in for a sandwich and some staples.  I was checking out with a bag of organic Paul Newman Chocolate Chunk cookies, a pound of yogurt covered pretzels, three pounds of trail mix, a massive roast beef pita-like thing and a box of carob malt balls.  I don't know if it's the lighting in those places--which kind of make it seem like you're shopping without consequences in the pleasant ether somewhere between Aruba and Heaven--or the fact that because it's in a 'natural' market having cookies, carob and roast beef for lunch must be good for you.   If I ever have to sell meth I'm going to jack up the price and do it outside of Whole Foods.   I'll give it some quaint, colloquial brand name like "Uncle J's Down Home Crank."  I've noticed in natural food markets that I'm very prone to paying way too much for something that appears have been made by an elder relative.  "Good 'Ol Granny's Organic Gherkin" company would never rip me off," I think to myself while I pay ten dollars for a jar packed by a guy named Ice Chisel who knows where to get the cheap meth. 

Really Good Cause

I've been donating this month's Showbiz Scene to http://www.grameenfoundation.org.  This is a very good place.  So good the concept won a Nobel Peace Prize. 

WABC New York just picked up the 'Scene.  So one day I hope to actually sell the air time for money.  For now, I don't know who couldn't get behind a concept as intelligent as Grameen.   I usually post the Showbiz Scene here.

Old Provisions

Denver was widely criticized as the worst city in America for voting glitches.  It's near 11pm and all the votes are still uncounted.  An elderly (is there any other kind?) volunteer at a polling place said this about the new computers:  "Whoever dreamed up how it works this time must have been having a nightmare."

I'm up late watching the polls like my watching will somehow make an impact.  The Dems will take the House.   Before the world gets too excited about progress trumping the dangerous, ancient conventions of small-minded fear mongers, please know that the current Congress has six more weeks to pass whatever wacky thing they want to.  If I were a member of the majority party on my way out I'd outlaw dumbasses who wear their pants below their butt.  It'd be a blast to make wearing a cell phone earbud in public a felony.   But here's something I can't understand.  Why do people vote against getting rid of the obsolete language?  If there's one thing I'm sure of when I cast my ballot it's that I will get rid of the outdated language.  I don't know which judge should stay or go, I can only follow most amendments until I get lost in "therewhence unto for ergo betwixt illegal alien dogma pawn" and I don't know why I'm voting for a regent at a school I never attended.  I think the university regents should have to campaign at their school with construction paper and cute rhyming slogans.   But one thing to which I firmly apply my mark is the "yes" to edit out any old constitutional provisions.   I thought that was the one 'gimme' to voters.  Sure you'd have to go through the painful negative campaigning for any other candidate or issue, but getting rid of the law against tethering your horse to the general store seemed a breeze.  Here's the twist.  As PBS rolls their election results I saw that with only 10 percent of the precincts reporting, 117,000 people had voted against removing old language from the Colorado constitution.   If you get thrown into the stocks for spitting on the Sabbath then look for me on Meet the Press railing against ye olde language. 

Thankfully I'm already Paranoid

So I just started working with this woman who designs web sites but she doesn't like to leave her office.  So I was about to send this email but thought I'd give it a once-over before I blasted it off.  I'm glad I did. 

Julie...

If we could meet so that I could show you the pages to be done, share with you the subversion program and what I've done so far with Dreamweaver, that would be great.  I'll even come do you if necessary.

Thanks,
Jared