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I went to the Associated Supermarket across the street from work because I wanted to pick up a dozen donuts for me and my co-workers. I figured we’d had a long week and there’s nothing like my favority hole-y pastry to put us all in good spirits again. Well, much to my chagrin, there wasn’t a single donut to be found in the entire place! Not a one. Not even a single, put-it-in-a-wax-paper-bag-and-go-on-your-blissful-happy-merry-way donut. Nothing. Nada. What gives?!

What kind of supermarket doesn’t carry donuts? Isn’t there a law about that somewhere? Even Whole Foods has donuts. Granted, they’re farm-raised, grass-fed, free-range, hand-rolled, organic, fried-at-a-humane-and-reasonable-temperature, donate-to-your-favorite-battered-donut-shelter spherical pastry treats. But they’ve got donuts gawddamnit!!

I’m a bit of a weather junkie, so I’ve got six different weather widgets opened on my Mac at work at all times. Normally, I’ve got five that tell me the temperature and conditions in random areas around the state, and one that gives me a map of the country, so I can see what’s coming in.

Today, I’m looking at my map of the country and I see this giant weather system out in the Midwest. I’m talking gigantic, huge, the size of Nebraska, South Dakota, Iowa, and part of Minnesota PUT TOGETHER!! Now, just as a recap, weather in this country moves from West to East, so if it’s raining in Toledo, odds are, Scranton is going to get rain a little later in the day.

So it’s safe to say that the gigantic system I saw covering most of the corn producing area of this great nation will be here in a few days. All that is what I inferred from checking the map.

Looking at the little six day forecast on the weather widgets up above, I was told a different story. Sun. Sun, sun, sun, sunsunsunsunsun.

Now, tomorrow, about four hours before it actually starts pouring, I expect those widgets to suddenly go from sun to rain. Let’s see if it actually happens like that.

My theory is, if people really knew it was going to rain they’d cancel their plans. And we can’t have Americans staying home, not spending, not consuming. That’s un-American. It’s a conspiracy, I tell you, an Accu-weather conspiracy. And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

Over and out.

Okay, while I was in the middle of than whiny rant about lack of creativity last night, guess what I also didn’t follow through on. That’s right, the chicken. I took chicken out of the freezer with the perfectly normal intent of frying it up and adding some homemade satay sauce. Unfortunately, in addition to writing, I also forgot about FOOD!! And when I woke up this morning, there it was, sitting in a plastic bag in a pot of cold water on the kitchen counter.

So I put it in the fridge and fried it up after I got home tonight. Raise your hand if you saw that coming. Now look around, you’re not that special now, are you.
In other news, I went out with Greg and his buddies Brian and Kenny tonight. Every time I go out with those guys it makes me feel happier to be doing what I’m doing. All three of them are so completely immersed in what they want to do (paint, write, design, etc. even though they all work day jobs) that I feel inspired to go home and be productive just by osmosis alone.

I worked on transcribing interviews for an hour after I came back from the bar tonight. Tomorrow I hope to get some more story writing done. See, I’m getting my ass in gear already. Let’s see how long this lasts.

I finally got the comments working. Apparently, I have to approve them before they go up. Heh, what will they think of next…

HA! Ha! hahaha… *cough*

I’ve been feeling rather burned out and uncreative lately. I don’t know what’s causing it, either. Seems I’ve been doing a lot this summer. I’ve been new places, had new experiences, met new people, reconnected with old friends, traveled the country (okay, Texas and New Jersey, give me a break, it’s still travel), read perhaps one of the greatest books I’ve ever read, and got a brand new monster in the house. And still I don’t really feel like I can do anything worthwhile. I start stories, get a few pages, and leave them. I’ve taken, like, thirty photos all summer. Maybe I’m not as distracted from my life as I was last summer, because now that I think of it, I was just as unproductive last summer as I was this summer. Only change between last summer and this summer is that I’m now single. Meh. I’d rather have the beautiful distration. This inactivity is killing me.

New plan:

Take more pictures

Write more stories

Get more creative

Get off my ass

Let’s see how this works out… Updates soon.

I landed in the George Bush Intercontinental Airport today. That’s right folks, INTERCONTINENTAL airport. Not international, intercontinental. I just googled the term and apparently Houston is the only city to be blessed with such an airport.

So what the hell makes an intercontinental airport?

Inter - between, among
Continental - a small breakfast consisting of fruit, yogurt, bagels, and other such cold items

Of course!! An airport that knows how to start the day off right!!

In the spirit of the glorious reign of The Honky Tonk Man, I think I’m going to create a new breakfast, the Intercontinental Breakfast. It’s basically a regular Continental Breakfast, but with a half pound of bacon on the side.

There’s a mosquito somewhere in my apartment. I know it’s here, it just buzzed by my ear. Reminds me of lying in my sleeping bag, off camping in the woods some place, just about to drift off into la-la land… Zzzz… Zzzz… *bzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZ* Then the swatting, the cursing, and the waking up of tentmate, and the eventual calming down and drifting off.

*bzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZ*

And refrain.

That’s right. Between my toes. I took off my shoes last night and that’s what I found. Dirt.

There is a perfectly logical reason for this. I haven’t given up bathing or anything (granted, yesterday was a day I skipped, so the dirt had two days to congregate), I just had a particularly active afternoon running, throwing, chasing, sliding, rasslin’, and getting beaten with fake swords.

All of which I haven’t done in a while.

Of course, that’s what spending time with the hometown crowd will for you. I was at a wedding on Whitney Drive this weekend and had a marvelous time reuniting with all my old friends from childhood. The wedding itself was fun, but the post-wedding picnic the next day was the highlight of the weekend. For a few hours that afternoon we threw kickballs at each other, kicked basketballs, and engaged in random bouts of wanton violence with fake weapons made six years ago for what I can only call our “Worst. Idea. Ever.” all in a spiraling de-evolution to high school in full view of the parents who watched it all happen five, six, ten years ago. They shook their heads at us then, and they shook them at us now.

But it was fun to be a kid again. Fun to play dodgeball. Fun to ambush poor Greg with a big fake battle axe. I’ve gotten too entrenched in the real world, the grown-up world. And I discovered yesterday: Sending a completed manuscript to our production department just doesn’t give me the same feeling of accomplishment as hitting my best friend in the side of the head with a kickball from thirty feet away. And spreadsheets don’t leave you with dirt between your toes.