10/01 Direct Link

Oh man, here comes that dang fade, moving toward me in a big dang hurry, ZAM !!!!!!! and I'll be asleep and these hundreds won't get written tonight, and we can't be having that, so ......

Welcome to: The Rest Of Tonights Hundreds !!!

The thing that stands out largest to me is shocks onto that old ratty white pickup, and purchased shocks for the new one – cool.  I got DIRTY, changed them out behind the parts store, after the sun had already gone, grabbed a flashlight and did the deal.  Fun, actually.

So that was My Saturday Night – exciting, isn't it?
10/02 Direct Link

We sit on a raised doorstep, feet stretched out onto the sidewalk there on South Congress – fun shops, way-cool restaurants.  South Austin on parade.  A great place to people watch.  Which we do, but that's not why we're there.

Okay, it's part of the reason we're there.

We're informal, yet dead serious.  I like the shit out of that piece; we have fun. 

A check-in:  What am I doing w/r/t this AA recovery thing – am I locked down in ego, and how, and why.

Am I living the life I'm called to?

A huge hour in my week.

Sundays 5:30PM.
10/03 Direct Link

First quarter, just a shade past, fifty-one percent.  It looks in the sky as exactly half-full.  It's beautiful.

It's laying in the southern sky, high enough yet that it's bright white, not yet yellowed by our atmosphere smudging it yellow or brown.

So there's that.

And  all of those needed repairs on that old pickup, prepping it for sale.  I should have sold it “As is,” I suspect I'll not get back what I've put into it, over what I'd have gotten had I just sold it “As is.”  Which means that this whole thing has been a fools game.
10/04 Direct Link

I'd forgotten how great that stereo is, in part because one speaker was loose, and vibrated/clattered if/when I poured power to it.

I put power to it today, playing Sister7 as I drove that gorgeous pickup south on Lamar.  A pleasure.  And I ought not listen to loud music, my hearing already compromised considerably, but sometimes I let it rip, still, regardless.

The fool in me.

Actually, the fool in me takes up considerably more real estate than just that bit, too bad for me.

And then later, polishing that old truck, to sell – it is still a beautiful truck.
10/05 Direct Link

I worked on that pickup, off and on, for maybe five hours, six. 

I rubbed it out – rubbing compound – yesterday and Monday.

Today I waxed it – most of it two coats – and then changed out the tires with the new truck, so as to get it inspected; I'll then swap them back.  Tacky, right?

I'm surprised at how nice that paint comes up, after not being waxed for at least ten years.

It's still a very pretty pickup.

It's not perfect, by a long shot.  But pretty as it is, it will sell. 


I am very sore and very tired.
10/06 Direct Link

A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
A day full of absolutely nothing, not one step outside.
10/07 Direct Link

Big-D, double-dog, black-hearted depression.

How is it that I get to feeling so low?  It's so damned hurtful, I hate it so.

I get stuck in it, the whirl downward continues, sometimes increases, it's cyclical, dangerous as hell.

Before anti-depressants, and mood stabilizers, I'd be suicidal as hell right now.

I know for a fact that with the loosy-goosy, blistering anger in me just now, were it not for that mood-stabilizing shit I'd be a big hazard, to me and whoever else.

It's good I've mostly stayed in, stayed away, apart from any innocent who'd happen to cross my path.
10/08 Direct Link

American citizens losing their rights, in the name of *safety*.

The *justice* system has turned one percent of our citizenry into a subclass, forced into a lifetime of this – criminal records follow forever now, and no way of getting free.

Sexual offense accusations the worst – guilty until proven innocent, based not upon evidence leading to conviction beyond reasonable doubt but rather that of one persons testimony against another.

Once accused – not convicted but accused – you carry this for the rest of your life.

It's insane.  Completely unfair.  And unless/until it happens to you or someone you care about, it's unseen.
10/09 Direct Link

Calling Phil, facing down that fear of his judgment – I'm not sure if it was there or not but he said nope, so if it's there I'm going to have to let him deal with it, his business now.  I'm not going to have unspoken shit going like I did with David, fuck that, that was too goddamn confusing, too goddamn painful.  I should never have let that go without confrontation.  Foolishness.

I hate that I can't do more than I'm able at this time, but there it is.  And I cannot live my life for Phil or anyone else.
10/10 Direct Link

Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
Nothing to say, and no pretty words to say it.
10/11 Direct Link

My mothers 90th birthday. 


Born into depression era poverty,  enough to have turned her life into a quest for sales, purchasing things that were not the best.

Seven children also.  That'll get you watching prices.

Her mind very, very sharp.  Closer today to being able to be her friend, as long as we leave religion aside we're fine, seems we're better able to do that now.

Some items from my youth are slipped from her mind these recent years, but not much slippage.  She knows ALL the players in her life.

She's scared, some, mostly not.

I love her.
10/12 Direct Link

At least two years the dashboard in the old pickup has been messed up.  I think lots more years than that, but let's just say two, for fun.

So, take a guess – when did I fix it?

That's right, only now that it's for sale.

Only now have I waxed it.  Twice.

Only now have I cleaned the carpets.  (Which didn't clean well – coffee stains are tough.)

Only now am I doing so much of the “deferred maintenance,” which in this case translates to “stuff I wouldn't do so I could enjoy the damn truck, like a civilized person would.”
10/13 Direct Link


Long, long sleep today, in fact many days, too many, it seems to me.  I'm sleeping my life away.

Except maybe that's not the case – yeah, I sleep late but I'm up late.

And it's a balance out for all those horror-show years when I flat couldn't sleep, toss, turn, toss, turn, repeat repeat repeat.

THAT was so fuct, I still don't know how I made it through those long years.

Sleeplessness a huge contribution to the pain I lived in those years; had I been able to sleep, I'd have been able to see it with more clarity.
10/14 Direct Link

Being as how I've always been tall – shortest I've ever been is tall for my age – it's my normal, I don't see myself as a galoot but rather as just a mope, staggering down the road, scratching myself.  But I've learned that others see me differently, learned fast that thing about shaking hands while hurriedly sitting down in job interviews with guys that are considerably shorter than I, learned also that women like a guy who can reach the top shelf, and I can easy prove that – just open your browser on any dating site and look at their criteria.
10/15 Direct Link

A beautiful Saturday, now 1AM Sunday morn.  Out into the day late in the afternoon, met Scott, took in a 5:30PM Westlake meeting; nice stuff, give and get.

Then foraging for food, supplies – hunting and gathering, at the local supermarket.

Beautiful fruit – bananas, lemons, limes, jalapeρo peppers –  and good bread, canned fish, nonfat yogurt.

I've come to love that canned fish – kippers, packed with good-guy omega-3 fat, small fillets in salted water, which I rinse to get the salt out – one sandwich per can @ $1 each.

Then, tonight, thoughts of Pamela, ruminating yet again, a powerful lock on me.
10/16 Direct Link

Bob is a great sponsor, we surely do have a time.

It's a great relationship.

I'm not sure if it's friendship or not – Bob holds that reserve.


I was shocked today to see that age on his face.  I've noticed his hands prior but not this – it's come on -real- fast.

He's not but 62.


I flat fucking refuse to consider getting old.

Fuck. that. noise.


I've got Price eyes but everything else Nielsen, young like my father.

I'm 56, maybe for someone else that's old.  Me, I've already died once – I'm good for another forty.


I want more canvases.

10/17 Direct Link

I got the email late, after 10:00PM.  It hit me hard and it still is hitting me hard, my gut and my chest in a churn – emotional pain.  Fear.

She's still sick.  She's not improving.  She gets off that vented medication and the congestion comes right back into her lungs.

I didn't go up to see her.

I was to have gone up on her 90th birthday.  But I've got my head so far up my fucking ass that I've not been able to get it together.

And now I am sick with fear.

Will I see my mother alive?
10/18 Direct Link

What did I wish to address?

Multiple choice, maybe fifteen areas; I checked them all.  Julie was shocked, surprised – no-one had ever done that before.

Had I really all that to address?

Of course I do.

I'm a big mess; Julie if anyone ought know that.  My messinesses aren't blocking my yoga practice, my writing, the intention and/or execution of my sponsorship responsibilities, my diet.

We found other areas where I was holding my own also.

This therapy supportive rather than transformative.  Possible that I'm wrong, and off track, but that's what I'm hoping for; anything beyond that a gift.
10/19 Direct Link

She's in the ER, liquid in both lungs.  All the hope I felt after speaking with her Monday – gone.  She'd sounded so good, still coughing but clearly improved, and improving more.

She's ready to go, but more – she *wants* to go.  She'd pass any lie detector, saying that's not true – her religious beliefs make it “bad” to want to take off – probably ol' Jebus hisself gonna come take her when it's time.

She's amazed that she outlived Dad, outlived all her siblings, hell, outlived one of her children.  She didn't want any of that, all that pain, all those responsibilities.

10/20 Direct Link

I'd have a nervous breakdown except that I've been through it too many times to be nervous about it "Oh goodie, another walk through the scorching blazing, damning fires of hell, tra la la dee da."

I know that hours can feel like days, days like weeks.

Being tossed to the wind as you're trying to find a new medical regimen after a suicide attempt is pretty much malpractice, which isn't to say that it doesn't happen all the damn time. No one would do this to you if you were in crisis from a very dangerous cancer …

Bed time.
10/21 Direct Link

I am lost.

Barely moving, profound lethargy – can lethargy be profound?  If it can, then mine is.  Profound or not, lethargy swamping me, and all around also, no matter which direction I look.

I did at least get the old pickup inspected today.  That's something.  Photos tomorrow, clean windows, swap out tools/accessories from old to new truck iE gas can, jack and stands, tool box, bed liner, etc and etc.

The day slid by before I was ready for that, I'm like “WTF?” but the day didn't care about my confusion.

At least I saw Jason and Josh, a highlight.
10/22 Direct Link

One of the craziest movies I've ever seen, one of my all-time favorites, so many great characters, such bizarre plot-lines, such great acting, so goddamn funny.

I have this huge crush on Silvie Laguna.  She's not an actress that you're supposed to crush on but she's so goddamn darling, projects thin, neurotic, elegance perfectly – I love thin, neurotic, elegant women, haven't kissed near enough.

But I love all of the actors in that flick.  I just love the movie, period.

Ebert didn't even review it, I'd guess it's called a small movie, which totally pisses me off – it's classic.

10/23 Direct Link

The truck is not mint  – I have used it hauling tools and construction “stuff'' IE stuff from Home Depot, beds and couches for friends.

It's a 1994, dings / bops / scratches that you'd expect, or I would anyways.

Texas truck – not a spot of rust.

Paint not sun-worn, still holds wax well.

Coffee spills on carpet and seat but I have shampooed them out best I can.

Dash cracked, needs replaced if you're going to use the truck to go to church in.

Going to take photos tomorrow, that'll give you a better sense of the truck.

It's a pretty truck.
10/24 Direct Link

A screen.

A nice desk to sit at while looking at that screen.

I'm dressed nicely, surrounded by others dressed nicely – some elegantly – performing the same tasks I'm charged with.

They know what they are doing.

They're comfortable.  Competent.  Confident.

I am not.

This is their world.

I made it mine.  Except it isn't.


Lost, in cold sweat, gut-shot, howling inside, in panic I peer into that screen, trying desperately to unravel the secrets held there.

My face dead calm.


I awoke.  A nightmare.

But – I have lived it.

Pennzoil  First Interstate Bank  RRC  CSC  USAA  Compaq

A successful act.
10/25 Direct Link

That dream yesterday, that nightmare – very powerful.

It felt more re-enactment than dream, I was right back in it, back into my life as a lie.


I've taped those books into a bag and that bag into the attic, I don't want to open it.  IT is honorable, a good life.  But not my life.

No honor in living a lie.


I succeeded, perhaps excelled, though I'd never have been great; I don't have the mind to make those bizarre cognitive leaps directly to the perfect solution.

I'm lucky to have experienced it, luckier still being set free of it.
10/26 Direct Link

I'm not willing to sell a truck I wouldn't want to buy.

That comes from having treated two people badly, when I was young, selling them trucks that they didn't want.  And lying to them.

I feel sick in my gut even remembering what I did.

I'm not that guy any longer – probably to a fault.  But I'd rather have that fault than the fault I lived, young.

Comical – this truck has cleaned up so nicely – I could have been driving it this nice all along.  I was content to drive it dirty, unwaxed, but fix it up to sell.
10/27 Direct Link

What I'd like most is to be able to USB a keyboard into a tablet and go to town. Leave the laptop behind, just take a tablet and a bitty keyboard – maybe one of those lighted flex jobs – and Bang! on my way.

I could care less if it's the simplest text editor, just to be able to plug text into it without all this horses-ass finger-wavey jive, horribly slow – I can't keep up with my thoughts with a keyboard in my hand, now I'm supposed to 'type' on the screen?

Forgetaboutit …

Tablets have promise but they're not there yet …
10/28 Direct Link

I slept hard.  Long.  Deep.  I know I'm lucky to have this, having been without those long decades.

So much time/energy expended putting that pickup to order. Fuck.

That slivered moon laying side-saddle, huge, low in the southeastern sky.  Truly awesome.

Talking with Mike, checking in; he's so easy to sponsor.  I love that kid.

I love all four I've got just now.

I'm lucky.

Kelly Red.  I don't know what she signifies but god-DAMN.

It's likely that she signifies trouble.

She's a bomb ticking loud.

I should walk away.


I always have liked to fuck around with explosives.
10/29 Direct Link

Another nice conversation with my mother.

Why couldn't we have had this all along?

Religion was a constant stone in my shoe, a never-ending power trip she was on – do it her way or she'll be a big baby, a big drag, she'll tell you you're doing it wrong.

She's finally set that down.  I'm more open, don't have to be guarded, we can have fun.  And we do.

I love to hear the stories of my family; she's the last link to so much of it, these stories tell how my story started, who my people were, and are.
10/30 Direct Link

Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.  Zed.
10/31 Direct Link

That rocking-horse moon, softly yellowed, lying almost on its back in the southern sky as I walked to the boat dock to practice.

Not the salient of my day.   Only beautiful, that's all.

And of course that's plenty enough.

It's 3:10AM 11/01 as I write – I went out to check, that moon long sunk, brilliant Jupiter moved WAY 'cross the skies, now almost directly overhead, sliding south.

I wonder if I will write this year, will I step into that joyous lunacy.   I know it's huge; it can turn me inside out.  A life of its own.

We'll soon see.