Gray...*

I love it when the weather matches my mood. Today it is overcast and the temperature is mild. The day feels like a blank canvas.

I wish music was rated like wine. Wine has guidelines such as: white wine is only served with chicken, seafood, and other white meats; red wine goes with red meat; certain sweeter wines are paired best with desserts. Perhaps genres of music could be paired with moods?

Tonight I need to buy some music for the upcoming road trip. Recommendations?

*Song by Ani DiFranco

No Surprises...

A heart thats full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
Bruises that wont heal
You were so tired, happy,
Bring down the government,
They dont, they dont speak for her
Ill take the quiet life, a handshake of carbon monoxide

No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent
This is my final fit, my final bellyache with
No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises, please

Such a pretty house, such a pretty garden
No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises, please

Random question, what do you think this song is about?

Dollars and Cents...*

Today's post topic is courtesy of Doug from Waking Ambrose. Yesterday Doug asked me the following question:
What will your next job be?

I am ashamed to admit I have no idea.

I'm relatively pleased with my current job. It's not stressful, I am adequately compensated, and it is a very quiet environment. My job provides me with a place to go during the day, something to fill my time, and spending/saving money. I am content.

I don't usually actively seek employment, opportunities just arise, so my next job is a mystery. Perhaps I'll be a volunteer, a home maker, a philanthropist, or a student. The world holds many options for those with no set direction.

*Song by Radiohead

Impossible Outcomes...*

A few days ago I was reminded of one of my inappropriate college year crushes. I had a crush on Gatewood Galbraith (http://www.gatewood.com/) my junior year of college. Gatewood is best known as a proponent of the legalization of "hemp" and perrenial candidate for Kentucky congress and governor.

Gatewood was a regular at the coffee shop where I worked about an hour a week (and hung out at for countless hours a week). He was a charming man, with a slight Southern Drawl and a chiseled face. My friends and I used to admire him jogging from the window of my student apartment. By my estimation Gatewood was probably about 50 years old at the time.

I wonder if Gatewood knew he had a lustful fan club of 20 year old co-eds?

*Song by The Get Up Kids

Wake from your sleep...*

Sleep: Etymology: Middle English slepe, from Old English sl[AE]p; akin to Old High German slAf sleep and perhaps to Latin labi to slip, slide1 : the natural periodic suspension of consciousness during which the powers of the body are restored -- compare REM SLEEP, SLOW-WAVE SLEEP2 : a state resembling sleep: as a : a state of torpid inactivity b : DEATH ; also : TRANCE, COMA c : the closing of leaves or petals especially at night d : a state marked by a diminution of feeling followed by tingling e : the state of an animal during hibernation3 a : a period spent sleeping b : NIGHT c : a day's journey4 : crusty matter present in the corner of an eye upon awakening**

After 37.5 hours of sleep in three days, I am again joining the ranks of the conscious. Why do we allow our lives to exhaust us to the point of collapse?

*Lyrics from Exit Music by Radiohead

** Definition courtesy of Merriam-Webster

Caution To All Ye Whom May Enter

Pictures to be added soon...
Over the weekend I attended a birthday party for two 34 year old men at Medieval Times. The party was my first visit to the hallowed halls of MT. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this particular tourist trap, below is an excerpt from their website.

As Medieval Times popularity grew in its native country, the welcome Spanish invasion hit Kissimmee, Florida in December 1983. Professional production and training staff from Spain brought with them the architectural flourishes, authentic costumes and weaponry that had become so popular in Europe. The U.S. response was immediate and overwhelming. Families, tourists and schools descended on the Castle, and a new dynasty had begun.

Medieval Times is located in such exotic locales as Buena Park, CA; Dallas, TX; Schaumburg, IL; Myrtle Beach, SC; Kissimmee, FL; Baltimore, MD; Lyndhurst, NJ; Toronto, Canada and the recently opened venue in Atlanta, GA inside the Discovery Mills Outlet Mall.

Upon arrival we stood in line for 20 minutes and were herded like cattle toward the ticket desk. Once at the ticket desk we were given yellow laminated cards to trade with our "serving wench" (a teenager named Jasmine) in exchange for a disgusting 'medieval' style meal (instant beef bouillon served out of a pail, garlic bread, dry roast chicken, bbq ribs, a hunk of potato, and 'medieval' pastry aka a Nutrigrain bar). At the same ticket desk were were presented with a yellow paper crown to mark us as "champions of the yellow knight". We proceeded to the mandatory photo with a grimy king dressed in the fiefdom's finest velour.

After 30 minutes of milling about and admiring the reproduction armor in the 'great hall'/bar area I decided to kill the pain of being there with a $40 22 ounce 'King's Goblet' filled with strawberry daiquiri. Once I was fully inebriated (20 minutes later due to the tragic combination of Claritin, rum, and an empty stomach) I was led by the cute four year old daughter of one of the birthday boys to 'Ye Olde Gift Shoppe'. Sixty dollars later the little girl was the proud owner of a princess hat and two faux dalmatian fur trimmed crowns for the birthday kings.

FINALLY, our yellow knight group was called and we were carried by the movement of the mob into the arena where the festivities take place. The arena smelled like a Footlocker on the bad side of town. The volume of the royal speakers was earshattering and their version of old English was atrocious, adding thee, ye, and thou does not old English make. The woman sitting two seats over from me emitted a high-pitched squealing sound for most of the three hours we were in the arena, she was the first of many knight groupies we ran met. The sandpit in the middle of the arena was filled with some depressed looking horses and scary looking knights. If you ever wondered what happened to the long haired, D&D players who sat in the back of every class in high school, look no farther than Medieval Times.

After close to four hours in the Medieval Times vicinity we were free.
Cost of an evening at Medieval Times (for two): $250
Escaping: Priceless

(Things I would rather have spent $250 on: 1. Enough alcohol to render me comatose for the duration of the show 2. A mallet with which to beat myself unconsciouss during the show 3. Almost anything other than an evening at Medieval Times)

Blackberry...*

I hate my Blackberry. Inevitably, moments before I reach a nirvana-like state of calm I am disturbed by the annoying waspy buzzing sound that is like a siren song from my 9 to 5 (more accurately my 8 to 6, 7, or 8ish).

The only escape from urgent emails, stupid forwarded jokes and chain letters, and spam is going out of range. Unfortunately for me, Cingular's coverage area is immense. My options for getting away from it all is limited to third world countries (my future vacation list reads like a missionary's itinerary) or underground vaults.

"Just turn it off!", you may say. That advice is easier said than taken. The few times I have turned off my Blackberry I have been the recipient of a message from my boss's boss's boss. It's strange how you're never really needed until you're unavailable.

*Song by The Black Crowes (Note: I hate this song almost as much as I hate my Blackberry.)

Exit Music (For A Film)...*

It is always disconcerting to have a movie moment in 'real' life. Today I snuck out of the office for a moment to brood and stare blankly into space (heat-induced depression) and had the privilege to witness a movie moment.

I was jolted from my ennui by the sound a a chanteur belting out Sam Cooke's "(What A) Wonderful World". The man was well-dressed and appeared to be stable. He simply sang his song in the middle of the outside entrance to the Arena, put on his jacket (which he had placed on a nearby chair), threw a wink my way, and proceeded across the street. What bravery to step outside the shackles of what is considered normal and provide enjoyment for the three people who were lucky enough to witness his performance.

It made me smile.

*Song by Radiohead

Breathe Me by Sia

Just lyrics, but beautiful lyrics.

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
I Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am smallI'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold meI am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ride the Lightning...*

Sometimes during moments of silence thoughts creep in...

All the truths that hide behind the cacophony of our daily babble-filled lives emerge.

I am not a religious zealot or a particularly good Christian, but during times like these when all is quiet outside, the inhabitants seeking refuge from the heat they created, lightning sizzling across the sky and a storm creeping toward me from the horizon, I speculate that the end is near.

It is impossible for me to imagine what fate the world holds for future generations. Are books such as Oryx and Crake and Friend of the Earth clairvoyant tales of our future?

I'm scared. Perhaps we're all scared and that is why we fill our lives with sounds, images, and overscheduling.

*Song by Metallica