repetitive motion injury

Sad news...

2010-02-11T09:24:00.002-07:00

Early this morning, my Grandmother Marilyn Edwards passed away. She lived in Aurora with my Grandfather, Wayne. She was my mother's mother. We called her Meme.

Over the past few years, Meme has struggled with scoliosis. She went into the hospital for corrective surgery twice; once in 2009 and the second time this year on January 12. We thought she was recovering well, and everyone felt she was getting back on her feet faster than expected. Late last week she left the hospital for a rehab center. Things were looking pretty good.

Then she fell backwards and hit her head, and was re-admitted to the hospital. Then, in the span of 4 days, a series of significant setbacks followed rapidly, one after the other: a low-grade fever, a slight case of pneumonia, a urinary tract infection, a blockage in her intestine, a burst intestine, surgery to repair the intestine and clean up the infection spreading in her abdominal cavity. It was all too much. She did not have the health and strength to fight it all off. The infection was powerful and caused a great deal of pain, and the medical staff used strong pain relievers to help her.

About 6 AM this morning, Feb 11, she left us. She was 76 years old. We believe she was a Christian, and is with the Lord. She is no longer in physical pain. Our pain is much less than hers was, but we are hurting.

We ask that you keep us in your thoughts and prayers, especially for my Grandfather Pappy, as we make arrangements and settle on a new life situation for him.

On blog titles starting with "On"

2010-01-29T10:08:00.002-07:00

I like them.

I also like chapter titles in books that go something like:

"Ch. 6 - In which Arnold encounters a bear."

I don't think I can articulate why, I don't even know if I know why, I just know that I like them. Maybe it's because the author is him/her-self giving you a the subject. It comes across in a way that is different from other titles, as they are dry and impersonal e.g. - "Ch. 6 - The Bear" - Oh, a bear? Why do I care about a bear? I'd almost rather have the sparse "Ch. 6". Don't bother telling me about the bear, I'll get to it, and I'll get why it matters when I do. But if the author says "In which Arnold encounters a bear", it's though they're saying "Psst, Hey... Arnold totally runs into a bear in this part and it's awesome, so read fast but pay attention." Now I'm totally stoked about the next chapter.

It's the kind of thing that causes late nights reading. I'll be a few pages from the end of chapter five, eyes blurring and drifting across lines, creating words that weren't there and mentally distorting what I've read. How much further? I wonder. I slide a finger in the page and flip... 1... 2... 3... 4... more pages to chapter six. I'll stop there. Ch. 6 - In which Arnold encounters a bear... Protagonist meets bear? Really? Is there foreshadowing in Ch. 5? Am I missing something right now? Will there be a cliffhanger at the end of Ch. 5? I have to know about the bear! I wipe my eyes, maybe get up and go to the bathroom, get a glass of water. I am awake now, awake with intent. I must finish this chapter and read the next. Minimum. I wonder what Ch. 7 is called? Will there be a cliffhanger? What happens with the bear? Is this how the Antagonist comes into the story?

Two hours later, I will know. I'll also have read at least four more chapters, all with the same anticipation. I will be very tired, but it will have been good, and definitely worth it.

Short (pt.2)

2009-12-03T14:48:00.001-07:00

It came and went really, the feeling...

The thought came with it though, they were inseparable.

It was though the pain was mental.

He felt it clearly.

And was anguished...

Short

2009-12-03T14:38:00.002-07:00

Two times in the last hour.

Twice.

Twice he'd felt the momentary sting of the thought of it.

In the last hour.

Untitled: Storied Lives

2009-08-20T00:10:00.008-06:00

This is the first in a series of stories about myself. Those of you who know me have probably heard some of them before, but I've never taken the time to write them down, so I think I will now...

I wanted to come up with some catchy, uber-cool name for this series of stories. I wanted something simple, but with meaning, something that had a ring to it, but went a little deeper. I so love the title 'This American Life' it's so simple, but goes so deep. I momentarily considered "This Americans' Life", but as freaking cool as Ira Glass is, I'm sure I'd still get sued for that one. I thought of 'Lives Lived' but that's something that would be on a major television network around one in the afternoon. I tried several others but all to no avail. So I decided to rip off the Denver Art Museum... they've been running a series of events called "Untitled" ... but somehow, the events end up with names like the upcoming "Untitled #24 (Crossbones)" ... I know, right? Kinda defeats the idea of 'untitled'. It cracks me up, so I stole it. Enough run-on about titles, and on with the story.

Storied Lives #1 - Covered In Bees

Several years ago my best friend Erik introduced me to a unique British comedian by the name of Eddie Izzard. Eddie has a strange sort of intelligent rambling that somehow goes somewhere, a two hour production that makes you think without realizing it; because you've been laughing. Nowadays I can't think of this story without quoting a particular bit Eddie does about beekeepers. "My father was a beekeeper before me, his father was a beekeeper before him, I wanna walk in their footsteps, and their footsteps were like this... AAAAAARRGH, I'M COVERED IN BEES!"

You see, my father was a beekeeper. Fred Henke, a family friend of ours, had been in beekeeping for dozens of years, and somewhere along the line Dad decided that he'd like to keep bees as well. At first it seems freaky, the prospect of having bees near the house, intentionally, but the bees complimented Dad's amazing vegetable garden, and made honey, so it was all worth it. From my perspective it was amazingly cool, because what other kid can say they have a massive bee-hive in their back yard? And there wasn't anything to it, you just get a few pastel-colored boxes, stick some bees in, and then go collect the honey. Or so I thought, and thus began my education on bees.

The first thing you learn about bees is that, unlike 1950's Americana, the 'worker' bees are female. And that unlike 1950's American film, the boss is a Queen. And then, if you're a guy, the next item on the list is rather disturbing. The queen uses the male bees (drones) to mate, and then throws them out the door to die. Whoa. Even at the age of six that one stuck with me.

Then come the cool parts. Like that fact that a honey bee will NOT sting you unless it feels as though it's life or hive is threatened. Because if it stings you, it will die. So, if you don't threaten a bee, you won't get stung. And my favorite bee fact of all time, that you can walk straight through a swarm of bees in shorts and a tank-top and not get stung once. Don't believe me? I've done it.

A hive of honey bees has one queen, and all the worker bees answer to that queen. The queen lays eggs and they hatch into workers, drones, and on the rare occasion, another queen. When a second queen is introduced into a hive, chaos ensues. The original queen will actually leave the hive, travel a short distance, and set up her new nest. All of the workers now have to decide which queen they will stay with, the hive splits and you have a swarm. The whole process is pretty impressive when it happens in the Cottonwood tree that your tire-swing is attached to.

Now, natural as it may be, swarming is a beekeepers worst enemy. You can lose up to 60% of your hive, and the more 'vigorous' bees at that, and often the remaining hive will be unproductive (as far a honey goes) because they're rebuilding. So it goes without saying that Mom called Dad real quick after I came running inside and told her that there was a swarm in the backyard.

Fred came over and he and Dad suited up in the traditional white suits and hats, but then Fred pulls a very-large, very non-traditional, Shop-Vac out of his truck. He and dad attached several extension hoses to the vacuum, and then Fred climbed the ladder to the point 20ft. up where the swarm was forming. And he vacuumed the bees up. As crazy as it sounds, it doesn't kill the bees, and within the hour they had them all sucked up. The next part was insane.

Dad spread a tarp out on the grass in the yard, and they opened up the vacuum. Spreading the bees out across the tarp, he and Fred began hunting for the old queen. If they got rid of her, the other bees would soon return to the hive, and life would go on and we'd have honey. I've been watching this whole spectacle from the kitchen window because Mom had little faith in the benign nature of the swarm. Suddenly I see Dad pointing at something, asking Fred is 'this what I'm looking for', and just as suddenly, Fred is screaming at my father... "KILL IT! KILL IT!! KILLIT!!!"

After that adventure, things with the hive went back to normal, and we were able to get our season's worth of honey from the bees. I was still a pretty young kid, but was really anxious to help with anything that I could. Unfortunately they don't have a 'boys' section for beekeepers suits, so somehow I convinced Dad and Fred that I could help them with the bees if I had a hat, we could just make a suit.

That's how I ended up wearing a bee-keepers hat, a thick sweat-shirt, blue jeans, suspenders, and gloves - all tied together with duct-tape. I was pretty freaking proud of my jury-rigged bee suit. I even got Mom to take a picture of me hanging out with the big guys.

I got stung about five seconds later.

Right between my sweatshirt and those taped-up jeans of mine.

I had an awesome childhood, covered in bees.

UPDATE: Upon rising this morning, and reviewing this post, it is clearly evident that my 2am posting form needs some work and that this story could well use a trip through the editor machine. I'll do that, but I have to work now, so for the interim, forgive my language and grammar. - GT

Working on it...

2009-08-13T22:26:00.003-06:00

“Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing.”

- Benjamin Franklin.

Thanks, Ben, for kicking me in the face.

I’m writing already, ok?

I wanted to write science fiction, but Joss Whedon so trumped my hand on that one that I’ve not picked up the genre since.

I wanted to write about technology, but now I work in the field, and besides being overloaded with it every day, I really can’t thanks to some prime NDA’s I signed.

I wanted to write about sports, but the Broncos won the Super Bowl and Elway retired and I realized that I’d seen it all when it comes to football, and Roy and now Sakic are gone so there goes Hockey, and the Rockies are great, but until they top Rocktober, I just won’t be able to be excited enough to write about sports.

I wanted to write about politics but despite (or perhaps because of) my involvement and interest in the last elections, I have come to see it for the circus of a runaround that it really is, and can’t devote myself to it.

I wanted to write about theology and philosophy but given the events of the last few years, I find the words that come are angry and spiteful, and that does the discussion no justice at all.

I wanted to write about an aimless wanderer because I felt that my writing was aimless and wandering, but the story went nowhere because it had nowhere to go.

I wanted to write about all of these things, and so many others, because they are the things others have done, the words others have written, the stories others have told. Well, truth be told, this is why I’ve failed. I’m hiking on someone else's trail...

“Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thanks, Ralph, for punching me in the gut.

I’m working on it, ok?

that thing

2009-08-03T09:25:00.002-06:00

I'm feeling more and more lately, that this 'block' I have writing, this lack of things to write about is likely less than I'm making it out to be. I have this distinct impression that if I find the right thing, it will come flooding out like an un-dammed reservoir. I saw a trailer the other day for a film called Julie & Julia, where Meryl Streep plays Julia Child and a young lady decides to cook her way through Childs' book and write a blog about it, and regardless of the merits of the movie, I latched onto that idea of having some sort of theme, some sort of 'basis' for writing to provide some consistency.

Now to find that thing.

Kitten Fray

2009-05-22T11:39:00.000-06:00

My face is buried in the pillow of the couch, and only the blanket over me would let you know that I chose this position.

I hear the light rumble of kitten paws, eight of them. 'Skish' as one turns to face the other 'Whomp' as they collide, a 'that was rude' meow.

Bells jingle as they tussle and I drift in and out of the moment, consciously wishing them away, while sub-consciously appreciating their comforting presence.

The kittens play while I sleep,

The wind blows through open windows and curtains weep,

The night aire creeps in and caresses me,

And I pull my blanket tighter to my neck.

The kittens come closer in their play,

Tumbling over what ever's in the way,

A rumbling, bumbling Kitten fray,

I open my my eyes to peek and check.

And I appreciate their comforting presence.

from the Playing For Change project

2009-05-15T14:07:00.002-06:00

WWW.hatmakesitgo.me

2009-05-13T00:54:00.003-06:00

I can hear Sports Center on the TV in the other room.

Dodgers minus Manny "Holy Gloom and Doom"

I stare at the browser, what site to go to next?

Google Trends it is, who's better Trix or Chex?

Late night boring internet. This shouldn't be possible.

This thing should be endless. Forever probable.

Would watch Dollhouse if they had Episode 1.

Streamed TV is limited and not yet all that fun.

And then a moment passes...

My fingers touch the keys...

Inspiration flashes...

Boredom up and flees...

I slam in seven characters "dot com" and press return,

To my Blogger dashboard my flying fingers burn,

The internet is boring, it leaves me cold and 'lone,

The way for me to save it, is to make it all my own.

To make it all my own and say what words I will,

To write a post in 'Edit' mode and blank white fields fill,

To add a link and change the font and use fun colors too,

To type until I end up with cold hands and fingers blue.

And so sit and type away, dropping cheesy rhymes,

A better way to pass the time, than subscribing to the Times,

I take the internet in hand, and to it's volume add,

I've written this,

I've published this,

And this has made me glad.

Major News...

2009-04-03T09:50:00.003-06:00

I am now engaged to be married to the most wonderful woman in the world.
Kelly & Gabe

-----
Detailed post to follow.

RMI is 4 Today!

2009-04-01T07:48:00.004-06:00

Also Gmail is 5
Apple is 33
Rachmaninoff would be 136
& Otto von Bismark would be 194

I must say that being out of writing shape is about as bad as being out of real shape, but I find it easier to fix. I mean, it's not a piece of cake, but I find it easier to sit on my butt and type for 20 mins. a day than to get on a Bowflex for the same duration. (Speaking of, does anybody know how much those things actually cost? I tried so hard to get the guy to tell me on the phone but all he would do is tell me he could send me a brochure... How much dough does a Bowflex cost? 'Cause a Bowflex does cost dough) Nevertheless I sit here feeling tentative about my words, afraid that they'll fall short of the expectations that I set for myself , that I feel that others have for them. Still, here I am, writing, and posting for all the world to see. Running out of time now, have to do the work thing, but I thought I'd pop in, mention some birthdays, and let you all know that I'm working on some updates to the site, along with some new ideas and themed-posts. So come on by a little more often, and see what's in store...

Thanks :-)

words...

The woman with the child in the stroller over there,
Something about it makes me care,
The man at the bus-stop with the greasy-tousled hair,
Something about it makes me care,
The girl who stuffs food in her pockets, 'cause home's cupboard is bare,
Something about it makes me care,

The child in need of diapers,
The man in need of home,
The girl in need of nourishment,
They're all so all alone.

While I work on Blogrolls and HTML, enjoy this...

2009-03-31T00:46:00.002-06:00

as I watched this go from #10 down, I knew what was coming at #1.
down deep inside, I knew there was only one fight that could even come close.
Patrick Roy for GoalieGod!

via WWDN, via puckdaddy

Blizzard '09

2009-03-26T13:47:00.001-06:00

Snow Storm, Snow Storm, Snow Storm!

just wanted to get a post in before scheduled Blogger outage...

splash

2009-03-25T00:14:00.002-06:00

Look at him, he walks in, sits down, and nods to the bartender. He sits there waiting, he watches the golf on the screen, stares at the cute girl at the end of the bar, and orders a 90 Schilling. He wonders how Tiger's comeback will go, and stares at the cute girl again. She catches him and he looks away, just to the right, as though there was something interesting there, and he'd just 'happened' to look at her.

I sit in the corner and watch him, without concern of being caught. I may as well be invisible. I sit and I watch, she is cute, I get why he watches. I have no interest. He's not the one I'm waiting for, not the one I'm really watching for. That one will be here soon. and then things will really get interesting.

written on and posted from myPhone.

Some days...

2009-03-23T02:15:00.002-06:00

Some days come on slowly, with snoozed alarms and sun through curtains.
Others dump you out of bed like a claymation Wallace.
Still others drop Scuds on your head.
And when that happens, you have no choice but to sleep it off.

So I did, and now it's nigh on 2:30am and I've been doing computer stuff at the house with Dad for the last three hours. With no hint of sleepiness, save my eyes telling me that my contacts have been in too long and they want a break BLUR so I fight through the fuzzy and sit down for a post.

Considering my day, and the fact that I don't really want to talk about it, I think I'll just post some links...

1st) Indexed: On Sourdough Toast ... esp. for Kath
(fyi, making that link took four tries, this blogging thing may be like riding a bike, but that simile never considered accessories)

2nd) Website: EveryBlock - A new kind of news source, and the CNN article about it's soon-to-be open source code.

3rd) Favorite radio show ever: This American Life, and the Network that makes it possible.

That's all for now. Thanks for stopping by. Be sure to tell your friends that I've once again begun terrorizing the internets with my words.

Resurrection?

2009-03-20T20:59:00.003-06:00

So I'm sitting here at Kath's, amongst bloggers galore, wondering to myself, why on earth I don't do it more, and then I get to talking with Jim about SEO and get to thinking about how RMI used to be ranked so high, and then they all get to talking about how much they love posting.

And I see the passion.

And, I ache.

And then I dig down through my Blogger blogs, and I find RMI, and I post.
(and fight very hard against the urge to make an Eminem reference... guess who's back...)

Farewell

2008-06-27T00:49:00.003-06:00

Time has come, to hang this hat,
This hat I fondly wore,
It went with me, many a place,
And I kept it when it tore.

The time has come, to move along,
To don a newer thread,
Farewell dear hat, our time was swell,
You took good care of my head.

Hey there...

Long time no see.

Yeah, I know.

It's kind of a bittersweet end.

Oh, I'm keeping everything, you can bet on it.

I'm just going to put it in a closet for safe-keeping (and for good memories later)

Thanks for everything you gave me here.

Would you join me at a house-warming party?

I've found a new place.

No, not far from here really.

The address? - Sure...

It's called "one foot now the other" and it's located at http://gabethexton.wordpress.com/

Hope to see you there.

:-)

words of another...

This is my rock,
And here I run
To steal the secret of the sun;

This is my rock,
And here come I
Before the night has swept the sky;

This is my rock,
This is the place

I meet the evening face to face.

- David McCord.

rant...

2008-04-08T08:17:00.002-06:00

I was just reading an article on a certain news site [some sort of Cable News Network ;-)] and I finally had my 'SNAP'ing moment...

In recent years, news organizations have decided to give their readers the opportunity to give feedback on their websites. They let a user login and leave comments right under the article.

At first I was excited about it, I wanted to share my own opinions and hear what others have to say.

Now I realize that people are stupid and just say whatever they want to say, and their commentary sucks.

Yes, it SUCKS.
PERIOD.

2008-04-08T08:05:00.002-06:00

sitting sipping Mambo Chai
golden doodle wanders by
chilly April morning air
blue sky and a blank stare

I know I've talked about being mentally busy before, but I think these last two weeks pretty much top it all. I realized yesterday that I'd missed an appointment, and then realized that my initial realization was incorrect, that I'd actually gone to the appointment. What happened? Well, I went on the 20th to see my orthodontist, and that seems so long ago that I thought I missed it. It was less than three weeks ago, but I thought for sure I'd missed it. All the things that are occupying my time in real world and in "Gabes' Brain" (TM, SM, R, C) have made the time longer.
Strange thing is that I can't decide if that's good or bad.

A Sunday Short

2008-04-06T23:20:00.003-06:00

Or Something like that.

Fiction...

Sitting on the couch with my right foot buried under my left thigh, and staring at the television, I wondered how long it would take for me to be able to say what I needed to say. Then the door knob turned and I knew it was going to come out whether or not it was formulated correctly. I saw his hand reach in...
"Grab me the mailbox key would-ya?"
My cheeks are warm. I remain silent.
"You there?"
Still silent.
"Hey, where you at? I need the key."
Not moving, feeling my toes go numb.
"G-ddamn Sunovabich Em Effing...
He stopped, in the doorway, but not really inside or out. Looking at me.
"What the Eff man?"
My cheeks are burning. I remain silent.
"Seriously, what the f@#k? I mean..."
I lost it, cut him off, almost swore.
"You mean that you're too lazy to get the F...key yourself?"
"What the? What's with the ambush?"
"Well if you didn't see this one coming, you should have."
"See... coming... what on earth are you talking about?"
"Go get the mail and we'll talk when you get back."
I threw him the key.
He stood there dumbfounded.
"Go get the mail Jack."
"You... but, what?"
He stepped slowly out the door. I stared hard at the TV.
Moments later he returned.
I turned the TV off, stood and turned to face him.
I stopped.
Stared.
He was silent, ghost white, and there was a tear trailing it's way down his face.
"Harrison's dead, IED, outside of Basra."

Rhymes With 'Mole Dudes'

2008-04-04T13:00:00.002-06:00

I don't know exactly what to think right now. I'm going to be working for a company that I really believe in. I wasn't really sure that could happen. But, after two full days of training and orientation, I've found that they really are pointed in the right direction.

I came to a funny realization about that this morning. I was never that kid that knew what he wanted to be when he grew up, I don't think I ever really wanted to grow up for that matter (still don't). Anyway, as time has gone on, I've tried and tried to come up with the job that would be the one for me to love, the one to make a career, and I can never seem to settle on it. There are so many things that I'm interested in and want to try my hand at that I always seem to come up with an ideal career that is some sort of combination of several things. And because of that, it's usually too specific to be very realistic. But this morning I realized that my new job is with a company that (rhymes with Mole Dudes) does things that I believe in. And that because of that, I will, on a daily basis, be doing things I believe in, and potentially move into a position that deals with that kind of thing exclusively. Which could, I'm realizing, lead to a job that becomes a career, doing work that I love.

Whodathunk?

OH THIS IS FANTASTIC!

2008-04-01T02:57:00.003-06:00

Google is teaming up with Virgins' Richard Branson for a program to Colonize Mars!
Check it out!

A Measure for Monday

2008-03-31T13:16:00.002-06:00

An un-mottled ocean of grey is the sky
Attempting to have an effect upon I
But I cannot be doused for great joy is nigh

An upwelling begins
Here deep within
This heart made of tin

An unbridled explosion of life coming forth
Brighter far than the star at the North
Meaning that greatly justifies worth

And I am thankful
And I am blessed
And I am His child

I'll spray you with Oust... Again!

2008-03-31T12:01:00.003-06:00

Sometimes you get sick, and, well, it sucks.
(Especially if you miss a wedding, Sorry Cuyler & Shannon.)
But you go on.
You go to work and you try to stick it out.
You try to not think about the fact that you're not going to be there much longer.
You try not to think about that cool new job you've landed.
You realize that you're telling your readership for the first time that you've gone and quit your job to work for a company that you actually care about.
And then you smile.
Because Life's Good...
And your nose is runny...
But Life's Good.

Bad Habits: Letter "J"

2008-03-28T13:45:00.001-06:00

An Ode to Missing Words

Here's to all the missing words,
the ones that got away,
Here's to the gig's of space,
remaining empty to this day,
Here's to all the trees left standing,
and to the paper mills at rest,
Here's to all the still dull pencils,
and all the books unpressed.

The void they leave has size unknown,
and consequence un-tended,
Leaving disparate thoughts entwined,
And common thoughts un-blended.
They leave voices stalled in sentence-mid,
and journeys uncompleted,
Words sans rhyme, stalled in time,
and epic poems un-ended.

I just said bad words.

2008-03-05T15:49:00.002-07:00

I don't think it's really worth excusing my absence, as I've done so pretty much every time I've ever fallen off the blogosphere... so on with it, no?

Sometimes when the sky is grey
Sometimes when it's not
Sometimes when I feel that way
I run away A-lot
Sometimes when sometimes come
Sometimes when they go
Sometimes I cannot feel a thing
Sometimes tears just flow
Sometimes there is one way out
Sometimes there's a few
Sometimes I want to run and hide
Sometimes it's from you
Sometimes I just need a hug
Someimes I need two
Sometimes I just sit and spill
For an hour or two

Three Words

2008-02-02T22:20:00.001-07:00

LOL Cats Genie

2008-01-19T00:01:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Matt for the pic

on Apples and Internets...

2008-01-15T09:06:00.000-07:00

Last night my computer wouldn't connect to the internet regardless of what I tried (and being a geek, that says it weren't my fault, and it weren't) but while staring at the animation for the wireless connection I noticed something...

And speaking of iMacs...

I'm wondering what Steve has up his sleeve for today..

Pictures Steal Your Soul

2008-01-12T13:35:00.000-07:00

And so do my words...

In a post yesterday, James borrowed from Stephan Dedman who wrote the following:

In Seducing the Demon: Writing for my Life, Erica Jong says of writing: "There's no way to do it without grinding up your loved ones and making them into raw hamburger."

I create art, and I have stolen anecdotes from friends and mocked the eccentricities of people I love to make that art.

People who read my work? Consider it a heartfelt apology, for all the times I've stolen your lives.

Writers and artists? If this is true for you, post it to your journal. It's time to apologise.

Now, I have a couple things to say about this:

First: Erica Jong pretty much nailed it. One of the things about being a writer is that you have to get to the core of what's real. You have to find the truth in something, and to do that most effectively, you have to thieve it from real life.

Second: Doing so will inevitably cause problems. I remember Mr. Moninger telling a tale of an author brought to court in a slander suit. Several people were accusing this author of basing his character on them. His defense in court was that there was no way it could be based on any one of them if it was based on all of them. The judge threw out the suit, and the author declared afterwards that the irony of the thing was that his character was based on all of the accusors.

Third: I apologize only to the degree that I feel bad often when I write these moments, when I steal your life and use it to make my story real. But I find it necessary.

Fourth: And, in finding it necessary, I must say that I have often held back my writing because of it's infringement upon the lives of my friends. Kath once encouraged me to do it anyway, and not to worry about it. But I have constantly worried about it, and as such, my writing has struggled severely. I know this to be a fact. There are things I have written that are among my best works and no one has ever seen them because I deleted them for personal references.

Fifth: Look out. I've decided that I can no longer have my creativity stifled by the reins of courtesy. I must write and my writing must include portions of your realities. You should expect to find yourself within my stories. I do it to make them real. Actually you should be honored. Because in all honesty, your life is storyworthy, and it impacted me. I chose you, and I'm not sorry.

Flobots - Handlebars

2008-01-10T17:27:00.000-07:00

The lyrics to the previously posted video,
Why? Because I dig them...

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

Look at me, look at me
hands in the air like it's good to be
ALIVE
and I'm a famous rapper
even when the paths're all crookedy
I can show you how to do-si-do
I can show you how to scratch a record
I can take apart the remote control
And I can almost put it back together
I can tie a knot in a cherry stem
I can tell you about Leif Ericson
I know all the words to "De Colores"
And "I'm Proud to be an American"
Me and my friend saw a platypus
Me and my friend made a comic book
And guess how long it took
I can do anything that I want cuz, look:

I can keep rhythm with no metronome
No metronome
No metronome

I can see your face on the telephone
On the telephone
On the telephone

Look at me
Look at me
Just called to say that it's good to be
ALIVE
In such a small world
All curled up with a book to read
I can raise funds open up a thrift store
I can make a living off a magazine
I can design an engine sixty four
Miles to a gallon of gasoline
I can make new antibiotics
I can make computers survive aquatic conditions
I know how to run a business
And I can make you wanna buy a product
Movers shakers and producers
Me and my friends understand the future
I see the strings that control the systems
I can do anything with no assistance
I can change the nation with a microphone
With a microphone
With a microphone
I can split the atoms of a molecule
Of a molecule
Of a molecule

Look at me
Look at me
Driving and I won't stop
And it feels so good to be
Alive and on top
My reach is global
My tower secure
My cause is noble
My power is pure
I can hand out a million vaccinations
Or let'em all die in exasperation
Have'em all grilled leavin lacerations
Have'em all killed by assassination
I can make anybody go to prison
Just because I don't like'em and
I can do anything with no permission
I have it all under my command
I can guide a missile by satellite
By satellite
By satellite
and I can hit a target through a telescope
Through a telescope
Through a telescope
and I can end the planet in a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handle bars
No handlebars

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

Free Credit Report Scam (ishness)

2008-01-08T11:26:00.000-07:00

Experian are a bunch of money grubbing losers.

I signed up for a free credit report at freecreditreport.com (no link, they're joiks)
It's a site run by Experian, you know, those credit guys.
Apparently I didn't read the fine print.
It's a month-long free TRIAL membership.
Not just a one time report.
You must cancel your subscription within the 30 days or they zap you for $12.95.
The fine print also says they will never, not even if hell freezes over, give you your 12.95 back.

@$$h0|3z

DO NOT SIGN UP FOR A FREE CREDIT REPORT FROM A DANG WEBSITE!
If anyone knows how to get a non-scam-ish copy of your credit report let me know.
I'll post again if I ever figure it out. Hosers.

.....
Also, let this be a record:
I canceled over the phone with a rep named Nicholas at 11:20 am on January 8th, 2008
.....

FLOBOTS

2008-01-07T11:36:00.000-07:00

What are flobots?

'Handlebars' student video project.
pretty good video, REALLY good song.

Why I love the Red Envelope

2008-01-06T09:33:00.001-07:00

I have convinced a few friends that Netflix is THE ONLY way to go for renting movies these days.
Others already have the service and aren't sure if they'll keep it.
And one insists that Blockbuster's thing works.
So, on that note...
Read this and tell me you're going to keep using Blockbuster.

Also keep in mind the announcement that Netflix is working with LG to bring a networked-set-top-box to your home by the end of '08. Soon you'll be able to watch instantly, and not just on your PC but on that nice, big, pretty HD setup you're paying 23% interest on.

I am an Elite Geek

2008-01-06T02:22:00.000-07:00

Translation: i r 1337 g33k

I just did a full Windows XP Home install in Swedish.

For this achievement I have gained 2 geek levels.
I am now a level 54 geek and cannot be stopped.

Gabe on Politics:

2008-01-03T20:01:00.000-07:00

Participation in the American Electoral process is akin to doing damage control.
It's never going to be fun or pretty, but you're better off having done it.

Observed:

2007-12-29T10:02:00.001-07:00

IN a parking lot in town:

-----
-----
On Sheridan between I-70 and 52nd Ave. - The big hill by the golf course:

He was stuck and actually beginning to slide backwards.

Guitar Hero for your iPod

2007-12-27T00:18:00.000-07:00

like, umm, this rocks...

http://movies.apple.com/movies/us/games/ipod/phase/phase.m4v

p.s. I still didn't get that iPodTouch that was on my Christmas List ;-)

ThexTech: UPDATED!

2007-12-21T13:10:00.000-07:00

I've finally caved to my geek side and decided to promote my services.

If you need any kind of technical advice or work, I'm your guy.

~~Check out my temporary home at ThexTech.blogspot.com~~

ThexTech.Net is now live!
(It's just a redirect for the time, but I'll get a site up at some point.)

or just mail me at:
gabethexton /at/ gmail \dot\ com
(put 'Tech Help' somewhere in the subject line so I don't miss it)

oh brain, my brain

2007-12-20T23:28:00.000-07:00

This post is a couple days in the making, I started it on Monday, but the story is from Thursday...
Did I ever mention that I'm a huge Wil Wheaton fan? Yeah, so all you writerly types (and anyone else who wants to chuckle a bit) should check this one out. Wil has written truth there. To be honest I've been ignoring my brains interruptions of my sleep, and the problem with rolling over and going back to sleep (for several months in a row at that) is that you start to feel as though anything you might produce would be inadequate. You hear songs, and instead of going "Yeah, I feel that way too but MY words would be THESE." you find yourself thinking "I wish I could write like that, that guy has such a way with words." and you struggle to pick up the pen, you struggle even more to sit there and type symbolic black pixels into existence and say what it is that you mean, what it is that you feel. So, on that note...

words...

The truth about little girls.
- Gabe Thexton -

I'm filling shelves with packages of meat. People shuffle past browsing. Others move rapidly, shoving their carts up and down aisles. A man in his forties leans in next to me, "What've you got there?" I smile, "This is the Ninety-Six-Percent." he nods and moves on. I turn back to my stack of containers. I crumple a plastic bag and shove it inside another, my on-the-go trash can. I look down.

A little girl approaches me. She is four at most. Her hair is jet black and falls straight, parting for her shoulders. Her eyes are deep brown and massive. She is wearing pink pants and a white shirt. I look at her and smile. She speaks... "Where's th afroo?" I don't understand her. I bend down, smile and ask her what she said. Again she speaks... "?Donde esta el bano?" I melt completely.

I am entirely at the the mercy of this small child, and she at mine. I know instantly that her mother is nearby, I know instantly that she's been sent to ask me because she knows some English. It's not very much, but it's sure more than her mother does. I know instantly that I can respond in her own tongue. I envision her home life of Spanish and her school life of English. I envision her grown and fully bi-lingual. I see her making a difference and bridging language gaps. My mind races with adoration and dreams, everything in a split second. I must respond.

I look up to point and instantly spot her mother. She watches timidly from a distance. She watches with concern and pride. "Esta Alli." I say, pointing toward the front corner of the store, "Enfrente, a la derecha." Her hand rises to her mouth, covering it partially, she got the information she needed, but she doesn't quite know if she's done. She turns and walk-runs back to her mother.

I watch as they exchange information. Her mother obviously watched me point and I watch her repeat my gesture. They continue on. I don't see them again. The little girl dwells in my mind. I know that my quick thinking got me out of my daydream. I could have stayed in that moment for an hour, even a day. The child, should she have wanted, could have twisted me like taffy. Her eyes and demeanor left me without recourse.

The little girl dwells in my mind. I think of the future. I have hopes, I have dreams. One of them is a little girl not unlike the one I saw today. She smiles and laughs. She giggles and runs. Her pink outfit makes me smile. Her timidity requires strength. Her loss requires direction. Her childhood requires a father, and I want to be him.

Warmth

2007-12-17T00:35:00.000-07:00

I forgot how good it was to have fellowship.
Thank you friends.

Sadness

2007-12-11T00:36:00.000-07:00

They are friends of my friends.
That's the way it was with Columbine.
I knew or knew of them, both times.

You go through this once, and you think you've had the worst of it, you're thankful that it didn't come any closer to you, and you hope you never see it again.
And then it happens again.

Some attended my family's small church.
I sat in the same room and dined on a Thanksgiving potluck with them just weeks ago.
Their friends helped us tear out my parents' deck just last weekend.

Youth with a Mission, YWAM (say 'why-wham') is a wonderful organization. I've seen too many 'missions' organizations that try only to go out and beat the 3rd world over the head with the bible. That's not YWAM. They help. They are beautiful people. Good people. God's people.

Some may ask us, "Why would God do that?" "Why would he let this happen?" I'll say one thing for sure, God did not direct this. As imperfect beings, we have let imperfection into His initially perfect world. He made us, and asked us to choose him, when we didn't - the storm began. And now, as he holds us in his hands, he protects us from most of it. Some, however, gets through. This is that some. This is that storm of sin, that evil that none of us like.

We cannot return to perfect on our own. He is the creator of this world and it is He who perfects it. Not now, while we live here within it, but later, in a new Earth. Each of us has a hole. Each of us feels our imperfection daily. We stuff all manner of things into it, trying to fill it. But nothing suffices, and we still feel the hole. All that crap we stuff in will just rot and fall out. It can't fill our hole. The hole has a shape, however.

It's a God shaped hole.

Only he can fill it.

Skies

2007-12-05T01:29:00.000-07:00

It's snowing FEET in the mountains west of here.

It rained OCEANS in the Northwest where I used to live.

And all I get is this frickin' wind.

What's the deal?

I like wind when it brings behind it some of the aforementioned weather, but not when all it does is blow-up hour-long-hairdo's [not mine of course ;-) ].

Sheesh.

61 is 16

2007-12-04T01:31:00.002-07:00

Little bit of a title riddle there for ya...puntos for guesses :-)

I'm wide awake right now, when I left the 'rents place at midnight I was tired as all get-out. The drive home ALWAYS gets me. I get home and I'm awake. Dagnabbit!

words...
When there's too many things
To do with yourself
You start putting things
Back up on the shelf

But the bookmark's still there
Stickin' right up
And you're full-well-aware
Of your o'er-flowin' cup

And no matter how much
You try to ignore
Those things that you shelved
They come back for more
-----

Pachelbel Is Following Me!

2007-11-30T01:26:00.000-07:00

Don't get me wrong, I love the Cannon, really I do, I'd like it even if the whole world hated it...
But this is funny, especially after the 2:20 mark...

Europa 2009

2007-11-27T00:27:00.000-07:00

My sister and I have decided that we are going to travel Europe in 2009.

View Larger Map

Is it 2009 Yet?

flannelgraph THAT!

2007-11-08T10:17:00.000-07:00

I'm going back to work today, still sick, but going back.

Went and saw Rob Bell last night, more thoughts on that when, well, if I get to it...
no promises

Blood:Water Mission - check it.

Why I miss the Northwest...

2007-11-07T10:24:00.001-07:00

photo credit

I am sick...

2007-11-06T00:23:00.000-07:00

I am sick...

and my writing for NaNoWriMo is way behind because of it.

I am sick...
and I had to go to work anyway.

I am sick...
and I am living on Ricola Originals and newly discovered Ricola Elderberrys.

I am sick...
and I could use one of these...

mmm, bacon.

now...
where'd I put the Celestial Seasonings teabags at?

The Sunday Short: Volume 2, Issue 7

2007-10-27T23:36:00.000-06:00

NaNoWriMo 2K7 Starts in four days.

Get your novel on!

So far there's a bunch of my friends going to take a crack at it.

I'll throw my hat in again.

What can it hurt.

Guess I should write something to get the juices flowing again, iiiiit's...

STORYTIME!

-----
The Subject is Immortality, as prescribed by S.S. Marks
- Gabe Thexton -

"Dude, you know that hot chick on Heroes?"

"Yeah, the one that's like two people in one."

"No, the other one man, the cheerleader."

"Save the Cheerleader, save the world!"

"Yeah, her. So, you're not going to believe this, but I think I've got her power."

"Dude, it's a freaking TV show!"

"Yeah, I know, but the other day, I spilled my Starbucks all over my arm right after I got it, like when it was really hot still, and the burn went away in like a minute."

"It's freaking coffee man."

"Yeah, well... watch this."

"OHMYGODDUDE, what are you doing!? Put the gun down man, put it down!"

...bang...

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OHGOD! OHGOD! OHGOD!... AHHHH! AH! Dude..."

"Hahahaa! You totally fell for it."

"Asshole. Talking about immortality and it's a blank in the gun."

"Immortality's for wusses."

"You got that right."

Colorado Rockies World Series Tickets are...

2007-10-23T14:48:00.000-06:00

500th post

2007-10-12T00:38:00.000-06:00

Three Years and Six Months.
Five Hundred Posts.
It figures that this one be about writing.
(oh, and don't miss #499, it's down below...yep, scroll waaay down...)
----------

I've really not blogged much lately, seems to be a pattern now that about this time of the year I get bogged down with life stuff and don't have the want need and or ability to blog regularly. From there I end up not writing in general. I don't write shorts, I don't write poems, I don't write anything. And I don't write anything down so that I can remember later to write about it.

It goes on and gets worse and then, when someone calls me a writer, I feel bad accepting the title.

But I know that it is what I am, so...

When I get a message from a guy that I've known since at least Kindergarten, a guy who was 'cool' and somehow managed to end up cool (oh crap, I think I just outed him), and he says that he's tagged me (his word was 'pinginged', seriously) in a blog, I go take a look-see. And when it turns out to be a writing meme...

...I bow my head, re-activate my brain, and try to motivate my fingers...

"So, here's the challenge: make a list of five strengths that you possess as a writer/artist. It's not really bragging, it's an honest assessment (forced upon you by this darn meme). Please resist the urge to enumerate your weaknesses, or even mention them in contrast to each strong point you list. Tag four other writers or artists whom you'd like to see share their strengths."

Resist the urge to enumerate my weaknesses, or even mention them?!

I'm screwed, but my hat's in the ring...

1) I am a natural Storyteller.
When I was in kindergarten, Mom picked me up one day and on the way home I told her all about how Sesame Street Live had come to our school, and how cool Big Bird and Snuffy had been. A few days later, when she was relating my excitement to some other moms, she discovered that I had fabricated the entire event.

It's called lying they said.

I used to be a horrific lier. I would lie about anything just to sound knowledgeable or get out of something. Then one day I met another lier, and I could see so far through his B.S. that I got scared. I began to realize that I must look the same way. So I gave up on it.

I don't lie anymore, I write fiction.

2) I love detail and it comes out in my writing.
I'm sitting at my desk right now, my flat monitor imposing it's presence over the back of my aging VAIO laptop. My desk is cluttered, a representation of all that engages my life right now. My phone sits flipped open, half resting on my wallet. There is a book, Beach Music by Pat Conroy, waiting it's turn, resting quietly beneath a small black saucer plate that currently holds a fork and once held my leftover Village Inn food. A picture of my puppies lies cocked sideways, half hidden by the laptop, I can only see a leash and Mickey's sad face, it is black and white. Paper litters the remainder of the available space on the table-turned-desk. Junk mail, a note from the neighbor, receipts, an ad for the Comcast Triple Play, a shipping label, and a small red postcard that beckons my return to Larson Ski and Sport, where I may save ten dollars off of this years rental.

I roll a pen cap in my fingers, wondering how best to convey the way I see the world. I type quickly, the table shakes as I shift position while my arms rest upon it. The torn edge of the envelope screams at me, the Stride gum wrapper begs to be noticed.

These things are all there.
Here and now, and there and then.

And when I see them, they become a part of my experience. So when I write about the apathetic waitress at Village Inn, I remember that I shot my straw wrapper at Kelly, and that I later rolled the same wrapper up carefully, lengthwise, and set it on my skillet. And I remember the way the sign on the wall was hung by eye holes wrapping their selves around tiny finishing nails.

The detail makes it real, it takes you there, and whether I'm remembering or fabricating, it matters. To me and to you.

3) I'm willing to work hard to get the right words in the right order to say what I want to say.
Isn't that an awfully awkward sentence? It sure feels like one to me. Using the right words to say what you need to say gives your tale a flow. I often say that when I'm reading, I get lost in the world that the words create for me. I get sucked into it. But when I come across a word or phrase that doesn't belong, I pop right back out into the real world.

I remember reading Christopher Paolini's Eldest, the second in a fantasy trilogy about dragons and dwarves and elves and badgers. It's a pretty good book and I had been sucked into the story for a good hundred pages. Until. Until I came across the following phrase "Badgers? We don't need no stinking badgers." POP! I was out, and it took a while for me to get over it and go back in and finish the book. The pop-culture reference had taken the steam right out of the novel. And the same goes for an awkwardly worded sentence. If you as a reader stumble across words, and they don't glide right to your brain and become images, you will POP right out.

So, as a writer, I take the time to make sure I've not left any cracks in the sidewalk, I wouldn't want you to trip.

So let's re-work the title on this point.
As a writer, I strive to keep the reader engaged through careful word choice.
That's better.

4) I have an extremely active imagination.
See point 1.

5) I have an ear for rhythm and rhyme.
I'd be remiss to touch on my strengths as a writer without having at least one point about poetry. Poetry is where I first dabbled in writing. In Junior High I wrote all manner of sappy-puppy-love poems to girls that I'd never have the courage to ask out. And somewhere along the way, probably late in High School, I realized that I'd graduated from gushy to good. I'd begun tackling serious subjects in poetry. I was motivated to share it with people. And it was from some of this early feedback that I started to realize that I heard things differently than most people. I hear the sounds and flow of words, as though everything were in song. The ebb and flow and the way things go. It's a natural talent, and I've been working on it for about ten years now.
The way I hear the world,
Is like the whips and cracks of the wind in a flag unfurled.

Alright folks, that's it. It took me two and a half weeks to get this put together. It was really hard, but I think worth it. Now that I've done the work, I have the pleasure of passing the meme on to some friends. Four to be exact. Todd, Steve, Giles, and Cuyler. Go!

Oh what a day!

2007-10-11T23:04:00.000-06:00

Last night on my way home from work, I had an email on my mind, nothing else really.
I got home, sent it, and proceeded to engage in geek activity on the webbernets.
My phone rang...
at 10:30pm
who, wha?
OH NO! I forgot about bowling!
I zoomed the ten blocks to Elitch Lanes.
I learned a new release for my bowling game and broke 100 both times, how's 'bout dat?
We went to Village Inn.
I got home at two.

My phone rang at 8 sharp this morning.
Sick call, I went to work early.
I had a good morning.
I set the case, made a killer awesome cheesy Rockies poster for our display, had a good meeting, did some more work, and went home.
I wrote some emails and responded to some comments that I'd been ignoring.
I took care of some errand/business stuff.

It was, the best day I've had in months.
No questions.

And then the Rockies won game 1 of the NLCS, how's 'bout DAT?!

Thanks God, you're awesome.

Untitled: UPDATED

2007-10-02T23:09:00.000-06:00

Hey everyone,

I just wanted to post a quick update.

I have some neat posts I've been working on, what is turning out to be a nice story about baseball and the Rockies game last night, and a writing bit that comes in the form of a really interesting meme. It's been good to get writing again and I'll be excited to post them, but I can't right now.

My dad called a bit ago and it looks as though we're going to have to put one of my dogs to sleep. As such, I can't really focus on anything right now, blogging included.
I'll post when I can.

Mickey.
Lhasa Apso, aka my favorite little Shih-Tzu on steroids.

UPDATE:
Mickey closed his eyes for the last time
shortly after Noon on Thursday October 4th, 2007
I miss him dearly.

A baseball teaser...

2007-10-02T11:28:00.001-06:00

because this is turning out to be an essay, and I have to go to work and can't finish in time...

...with the help of the Milwaukee Brewers, they earned a chance to host a one game playoff against the Padres. A game that would decide who would be the NL Wild Card team.

I was at work on Sunday afternoon when it happened. It was a slow day at the store because the Broncos AND the Rockies were playing. Several of us were casually watching the Broncos game on the TV in the break room, and intently watching our cell phones as we refreshed the ESPN updates of the baseball game. When the Rockies held on for the 4-3 win, I was really happy. When I realized that the one game play-in for the Wild Card was going to be here, I was extra happy. And when I realized that I work at a place that sells tickets, I lost my head...

more to come later

Colorado Rockies beat San Diego Padres for Wildcard

2007-10-02T00:58:00.000-06:00

I'm tired and can't finish the write up, so it'll have to come in the morning.
For now I give you this...
The video is crappy, but it was phone cam so deal with it...

Jamie Carroll hits sacrifice fly to get Matt Holliday home... FTW*!

(*FTW used in correct context)

NOTE: This is my video, I took it, I was at the game, it was awesome.

Also, if you do a Google Video search for "Rockies Padres", I'm the #2 video right now, despite the quality.

FTW can DIE

2007-10-01T16:18:00.000-06:00

I usually get into internet stuff rather easily, like blogs for example, or emoticons, or l337sp34k, memes and social networking.

But this one drives me straight up the wall every single time.

FTW

it stands for For The Win

it gets used for everything

it makes me crazy

I can only guess that it gets me because it's a misuse of language.

I would be fine if it was used as follows...

"The clock was running out, the offense scrambled off the field, the special teams unit came charging on to the field, the ball was snapped, Elam planted his foot on it, and it went straight through the uprights, FTW."

but people use it like this...

"I love Clif bars FTW!"

or

"Bald Priest With Neon Pink Tattoos FTW!"

it's ridiculous, using that acronym for anything other than it's initial meaning is definitely not for the win, it's more like FTL.

in the tone of one

2007-09-24T13:30:00.000-06:00

monotone weather
monotone wearer
monotone monday
monotone me

Quotage

2007-09-20T20:51:00.000-06:00

: Amy Carter, (President Jimmy Carter's daughter) when asked by a reporter if she had any message for the children of America

Dumb Internet Stuff (D.I.S.): Deadly Sins Edition

2007-08-29T10:48:00.000-06:00

First of all, I'm realizing that more and more of these Quizzes/Memes/Code from the internets are making their way onto my blog. I know they're shite, believe me, but I have fun doing them sometimes, and if blogging can't be fun, I don't wanna do it.
SO.... I've decided to give them a general title for reference sake (this will also allow some people to skip right over these posts) and for fun sake.

So welcome to D.I.S.: Deadly Sins Edition

I knew this already, at least about the Sloth part.
The Pride part kinda threw me.
What I wanna know is what boxes I checked that tipped it off to my Slothy ways.
I mean, I know I'm Lazy, but how does IT know I'm lazy?!

Greed:	Very Low
Gluttony:	Very Low
Wrath:	Low
Sloth:	High
Envy:	Very Low
Lust:	Very Low
Pride:	Medium

Discover Your Sins - Click Here

Shine

2007-08-27T23:37:00.000-06:00

Make 'em wonder what you've got.

OH OH OH! Dane it!

2007-08-22T11:42:00.001-06:00

I just had one of those experiences...

I have been listening to Slacker Radio lately, I'm at the point where I like it slightly more than Pandora right now. So I'm investing some time in my stations, and switching between them frequently. Just today I've gone between Frank Sinatra Radio, 'Joshua Radin and Folk', and 'Punk Amok'.

I was sitting here listening and writing, when I wanted to reference a song in my story. I paused Slacker, fired up iTunes and settled in for a listen of Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes. The song played, and I enjoyed it. Another song from the same album followed, and I returned to writing, my mood satisfactorily set.

Shortly I heard strands of a familiar tune.
I know who that is.
That's Aaron Espe.
Wait a minute!
HE'S LOCAL!!
OH OH OH!
Aaron Espe's on Slacker Radio!

I've never switched between applications faster in my entire life.

Slacker was paused.

Aaron Espe was in my iTunes library.

Not on Slacker.

Sigh.
----

With hope that one day he will be,
- Gabe

That, my friend, is called serendipity.

2007-08-22T01:43:00.000-06:00

Thanks to Kath for the blog title...

It was a very good year.
-----
"Judy?"
"Yes Frank?"
"You know, they call us both 'Blue Eyes'..."
"Yes Frank, but they call you Ol' Blue Eyes."
"Well that's just harsh."
"Don't worry Frankie, sing me a song."
"Only if you sing it with me."
"A Blue Eyes Duet?, Oh Frankie! I love duets!"

I amazes me that, even with all the things going on upstairs in this head o' mine, I can't seem to muster any of it for blogging material. Giles said maybe I should write. I have, and maybe I'll share, but it's AM now and I'm going to bed.

peace.

Pendulum... Other way... Whoah!

2007-08-18T22:07:00.000-06:00

The Princesse likes to define words sometimes, I shall now do the same...

in·cred·u·lous (ĭn-krĕj'ə-ləs)

adj.

1. Skeptical; disbelieving: incredulous of stories about flying saucers.

2. Expressive of disbelief: an incredulous stare.

I'm feeling rather incredulous about life right now, much of it relates to being mentally busy, and the rest of it isn't small either. Moving, Car/Insurance stuff, Money stuff, Weddings approaching, Job/Career stuff, ad nauseam. I told someone that I don't feel like I stay any one place for very long right now, I'm always off to do this and off to do that, life seems to be going at an ever accelerated pace. I wonder if/when it will ever slow down.

wiped out and off to bed,
- Gabe

Beisbol

2007-08-10T23:45:00.000-06:00

Rockies game, Coors Field, More Cubs fans than Rockies fans.
Rockies lost.
Our pitcher got nailed in the eye with a pitch while he was at bat.Kev and the Me
----------

Tony - Jill - Kimberly - Kevin
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Also, if you'd pray for Tony's grandparents as they were involved in a serious car accident.

words...

2007-08-08T03:13:00.000-06:00

I have spent myself in a letter,
I have drained myself of words,
I have written all I can for now,
I shall fly off like the birds.

I just had to do this...

2007-08-06T00:29:00.001-06:00

http://www.myheritage.com

An Aphorism of Sorts...

2007-08-04T22:20:00.000-06:00

It's Saturday night, I'm suffering from yet another bout of Small World Syndrome, I'm still not sure how it is that I continually end up the connecting link amongst friends. It's cool though, and fun making the connections.

----------
fiction...

She walks past, from right to left. Her hair is long and black and curly. Her eyes are large, deep and dark. Her nose is small and it compliments her dimples. She passes again, left to right this time, our eyes meet and there is a mutual smile. She is carrying something. I cannot see her anymore, I move on. Right to left again, I smile, she smiles knowingly back. A cocoon splits in my stomach and a butterfly emerges, flitting against my insides. Once more, left to right, and now I speak.
"That's the fourth pass, I believe I'm obligated to say something." She is slightly past me, she looks over her shoulder, I can see one eye and I now have two butterflies living within me.
"...say somthing? Like what?" More butterflies.
"Like: My name is Gabe, what's yours?" She laughs and I hear only beautiful church bells.
"Pleased to meet you Gabe, I'm Lisa." there is another mutual smile. She turns her head as if looking towards her original destination. There is an entire flut of butterflies within me. She looks back, smiles, and disappears...

Whuhuh?

2007-08-03T22:39:00.000-06:00

I'm home alone on a Friday night,
And must admit that it feels kinda... not right.

Guess I'll go watch 300, Eat a hotdog, and drink one of those Rolling Rocks that Tony brought back from some event...

oh, and one more thing...
How many nineteen year-olds can you think of that read theology in their spare time? The world needs more of those, maybe...

It's out of the bag, now call it a Cat.

2007-08-02T23:16:00.000-06:00

Trust me, you'll be better off for it.

words...

It was a Cloud7 kind of day.
Everything was going my way,
Things I had to say,
Art I gave away,
And in the end,
This is just to say,
Despite the tension, it all turned out OK.
----------

Off to read and sleep...
Goodnight moon, Goodnight stars, Goodnight old broke down cars...

une poésie, o, ein Gedicht

2007-08-02T02:07:00.000-06:00

It is now sometime after two in the morning, I have to be up no later than six fifteen. I have spent my evening doing the following:

Working, eating Ramen, watching the end of I-Robot on FX (the first TV I've watched in almost 2 months), checking Craigslist for apartments, IMming, phone calling, and now blogging.

I should have gone to bed as soon as I-Robot got over. I didn't. So now you have the privilege of sitting through a poem composed completely on the spur of the moment...

words...

Fame is not a friend of mine,
She's never called my name,
I do not doubt that Fame is kind,
In a financial kind of way,
But Fame can have that PMS,
Just ask Britney Spears,
Who never again shall have the peace,
Of private, unpublished tears...

Robert Bruce: Knife Gun Pen

2007-08-01T11:19:00.000-06:00

available for free download in PDF format.

that was depressederday, this is a new day

2007-07-31T02:05:00.000-06:00

The last two days have been a bit rough for me, as I've felt the looming challenges of moving and the pre-moving workout that is cleaning and packing. I'm off to start my work week in a few hours now, and am hoping for a fresh start.

There's something I have to take care of relationally at work, gonna need some motivation for that.

There's a bunch of things I need to get rid of clothes wise, gonna need some motivation for that.

There's quite a few boxes that I need to re-pack, gonna need some motivation for that.

There's, as you can see, a great need for motivation for all that.

So, if you pray; do that / if you read 'The Secret' and bought it; will the universe my way / and if you just think good thoughts; tell them to me.

Motivation is the key here.

----------
The best words I ingested today came from Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close:
A youth finds himself in the tangles of love, and as he lives in a separate town from her, he walks ashamedly to her town to see her. Head hung, he walks the road for six days straight. He spends his days staring at her home, and yet she is not there. Then, finally on the seventh day, halfway down the road, they run smack into each other. Their conversation is awkward for a moment. The boy admits that he was going to see her, and laughs at himself. The girl laughs back and...

"That explains it," she said when she was able to speak. "It?" "That explains why, each of the last six days, you weren't at your house." We stopped laughing, I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: "Do you like me?"

Holy crap that is awesome prose. That is why I recommend Jonathan Safran Foer.

a bit of fiction...

2007-07-30T15:23:00.000-06:00

I wrote this the other night, I'm not sure how I feel about it. I don't hate the writing, but the story feels like it's going to end up being a sort of 'Stand By Me' account of things, Ugh. It also feels heavy on the sexuality, which I'm not such a big fan of, especially with kids... Thoughts, Anyone, Anyone, Bueller?

-----
I don't know how I feel about telling you this, but Harrison's dead so he won't care. And I really feel like someone should know what happened to him, to us, that made him that way. I can't explain it, but we both went through the same things and I turned out somewhat normal. To be honest, I often feel like the broken one, I mean, Harrison responded the way you might expect someone to. He's the one it affected, he's the kind they make a movie about, and me? I'm just a thirty-something, stock-rich, ex husband... as beige as they come.

Anyway, I, well, I don't know where to start. I don't think I could tell it with foreshadowing and fragmented time lines and the ballsy dis-regard for format that guys like Frey and Foer have. I think I'll have to start from the beginning and it'll probably have some dry spots, but bear with me, I have to get this out.

Eighth grade brought with it a girl. New to the school with those killer crimped blond bangs and leg-warmers. Elise Amron. E.A. means video games to you, it means first love to me. Elise was not too cool, but cool enough. It was easy to sit by her at lunch and not feel awkward, I mean, she had a walkman and a worn out copy of Licensed to Ill. For a while I thought I was the only guy in the world that knew anything about what it felt like to be in love with Elise. Then I met Rod, biggest pervert I ever knew, and he showed me a picture he took of Elise's panties with a mini 110 camera he had. I know now that he probably took it on the playground, but at the time I was convinced that he had followed her home and taken it from a perch on a tree while looking through her window. How I missed the blatant reference to Back to the Future I'll never quite know.

Regardless, Rod and I started the ILEA club, because acronyms were cool and, we figured, a good way to keep the adults (and the girls?) in the dark. We had five members and a weekly meeting going before Harrison showed up. Rod stopped him at the fence that separated my back yard from the alley. "Why are you here?" Harrison blushed, "I love Elise Amron." Rod put a finger over his mouth and lifted the latch on the gate. We made Harrison look at Jakes' Playboy until he got an erection, that was initiation enough for us. It was only a few meetings into it that I realized that Rod was a jerk and that Harrison and I were going to be best friends. Soon ILEA broke up after a fight over who had seen more of her breasts (which, I'm guessing, were barely past training bra stage at the time, I really can't remember).

Harrison and I sat in the shed calling Rod names until my mom came out and offered him dinner. He stayed over that night and I remember the sound of his breathing. That never changed, I could always tell it was Harrison by the long slow inhale that ended jerkily and let out slightly faster than it went in. I always wake up before everyone else, so I remember looking at my new best friend while he slept. His blond to my brown, his short nose to my tall one, and something, something on his neck, up there by the hairline, purplish. I first thought it was a hickey...

Chapter 1:

2007-07-30T02:32:00.000-06:00

In which we meet our hero...

-
I have a poll now! Look for new ones regularly...
(Over there ---> on the right side...)
-
Roses from my Friends (Live) - Ben Harper
-
Something about a prosthetic testicle on a bacon plate...
-
Sore bowling thumb.
-
Motivational words from a friend.
-
The job I should apply for.
-
Pay the 30 bucks or sue the arseholes?
-
"I'm wearing heavy boots."
-
2, 6, 6, 2
-
The courage to do that which may break that which I must do it to.
-
Pre Lives
-
Football is coming soon.
-
"Which I know about, but wish I didn't"
-
What?
Go to bed?
Why?
Well just because you can't make sense of it doesn't mean that it doesn't make sense.
Sheesh.

Because it's You

2007-07-28T17:59:00.000-06:00

Because it's You
- Gabe Thexton -
-----
It only hurts because it's you,
So help yourself,
Tell me the truth,
Is it mad of me,
To be mad about you?

You say you will,
Do this do that,
But somehow still,
You forget,
And I'm left feeling ill.

Your touch a tease,
Like a jolt to the heart,
I'm left in unease,
And as you walk away,
'More' I whisper, 'please...'

It only hurts because it's you,
So help yourself,
Tell me the truth,
Is it mad of me,
To be mad about you?

Meteor Shower, by Rhett Miller

2007-07-28T01:43:00.000-06:00

Love gets you in the gut
Takes the top off of your head
And makes you wish that you were dead

Drugs help but not enough
Take the load off of your mind
And scoop out everything you find

Meteor shower
Meteor shower

I cannot make light, I'm so burned out
I know where you are
I cannot believe how much it hurts
I'm a fallen star

Time sneaks up from behind
Puts you six feet underground
While the world keeps spinning round

Love gets you in the gut
Takes the top off of your head
And makes you wish that you were...

(Sigh, I was definitely relating to this song today, before I even knew it existed. Heard it on Slacker...)

Geocache Bombs

2007-07-27T16:29:00.000-06:00

News Article...

Update: Better Article

In the far north-eastern town of Sterling, CO today, someone saw a man put what looked like an ammunition cannister into the bushes near two banks.

Police called in the nearest bomb squad in from 80 miles west (the article erroneously says east) in Greeley, CO. They retrieved the cannister, and found that it was not a bomb, but a container for a log-book for the sport of Geocaching.

This cracks me up.

If you don't know what Geocaching is, go wiki it.

UPDATE: I sent this to the Geocaching site, and to Wil Wheaton (who has blogged of his interest in the subject). There was some confusion at the Geocaching site, and now Wil's ended up with some emails meant for me, sheesh. Sorry Wil, didn't mean to 'spam' you...

Saying for a bad day.

2007-07-24T22:19:00.000-06:00

When Life gives you lemons, make lemonade...
When Life gives you rotten lemons, you're pretty much f%$!ed.

blog blog blog

2007-07-20T01:03:00.000-06:00

not dead, just busy...

peace out.

HARRY POTTER RULES!

That first part was good enough for a blog title.

2007-07-13T01:47:00.000-06:00

I have a massive amount of things to say, and not near the patience to even start to try to say them all...

The topics:

goodreads.com - get it, friend me.

global warming - and how it doesn't matter if it's real, we should still take care of this planet.

IM/Email friends - how cool is that?

Religion - haves and have nots and where it all belongs

How I didn't even get to the 'I went to Church' part on MoPoMo - I will, I promise

cold night air - and how good it feels

sleep - it's what's for dinner.

Sticky Guava RockStar: Up yours!

2007-07-11T21:57:00.000-06:00

Not that I need one, but I'd like to make an excuse for not blogging. The heat. Nuff said.
-----
Go see Harry Potter. DO IT NOW! Sheesh, how many times do I have to say it?
------
I promised a bit about my adventures in Pueblo, so here goes...
I went down Thursday night after traffic cleared here in Denver, it was a pleasant drive, and the two hours goes surprisingly fast when you have podcasts to listen to. I took Episode3 of Pipes & Pints, and the latest from This American Life.

Thursday evening was chill, Friday was spent at the few worthy places that the tin-can town can muster. There's a nice indie coffee house called Wireworks (blank website at the moment), and a pretty slick Irish joint called The Shamrock Brewing Co., where I had the Corned Beef Boxty and tried out their new Orange Tomato Soup (A brilliant concoction, were it winter, which is what I told the chef). Afterwards, Adam and I spent two hours at the ink shop while Adam got a nice big black "A" on his left arm, for his still-in-the-womb firstborn named Aiden (I said "A is for Arm").

Friday night we went to see Transformers, it's a Michael Bay film. You'll either love it or hate it. Probably love it though. I literally made geek sound when Barricade transformed mid-air (the first action-transform we saw). Side note, don't try to buy from Fandango via mobile web. I got cut off twice and ended up with six tickets worth of EXTRA charges in my bank account. This is nothing against Fandango however, as when I called about it their service rep. Misty was friendly and promptly promised action (she even gave me a reference number should it not get fixed).

Saturday started out as one of those days. I didn't want to do ANYTHING, but it was everyone's day off, and the day that you go do things. So I kept my mouth shut as to not ruin the party, and off we went. After a bit of this and that, we went cigar hunting, now I like cigars for the occasional celebration, but it wasn't my day, so I wandered down the old Union St. for a bit. Then Mike and I went on a short errand while Adam and Matt chilled in the club at the cigar shop.

I was sitting in the front seat of the car, holding my water in my right hand, and Matt's mostly empty energy drink in my left hand. Mike pulled into a parking spot, and grabbed the e-brake. As he lifted it up, it hit my left hand and launched the drink towards my face. Sticky Guava RockStar on my shirt. Sticky Guava RockStar on my chin and my cheek. Sticky Guava RockStar on my glasses. And worst of all, Sticky Guava RockStar up my nose. Any other day and I would have cracked up laughing. That day however, it just made me want to go home. I cleaned up a bit at the service station, and we went back to get the other two.

Next up was go cart racing. The sun took a nap behind the clouds, and so did my troubles. We had a blast tearing around the track on our mower-powered rocket-seats, and it was all uphill from there. Pizza for dinner was great at the Do Drop Inn, washed it down with a Woodchuck Cider, and had some good conversation. Movies at the house and Mead and Tuaca closed the book on Saturday's roller coaster, I slept well that night.

Sunday morning.
What do many people do on Sunday morning?
They go to church.
Guess what.
So did I.
But I think that part goes over there at MoPoMo...

After church we went and toured the Adam Aircraft facilities at the airport. Our tour was cut short though as we'd made the mistake of wearing shorts. As the plant manager put it, carbon fiber is worse than fiberglass, heals poorly, and you pay less attention to your legs than your arms, so, pants required. Mmmmmm, pot-roast for Sunday dinner, followed by a two hour chat with the pastor who stopped by to drop off a bowl (guess where you can find that part of the story...). The evening was quiet, Monday's highlights were Mexican food for lunch, and the observance of an amazingly injury-free motorcycle crash in the Springs on my way home.

I guess that's more than 'a bit', but it's what came from my fingertips when I sat down...
-----
Off to work on that MoPoMo post...

ah, the weekend...

2007-07-10T00:15:00.000-06:00

I have conquered the... rivulet?

I had been planning on a short trip down to Pueblo for Friday and Saturday. Then Thursday afternoon as I was leaving work, I looked at the schedule and realized that I had Sunday and Monday off as well. To quote Homer "WooHoo, Four Day Weekend!". So I split for the southlands and got back just this evening.

My adventures were not over the top, but a few of them were notable, so I will get around to telling them. However, not long after I got home, I went down to the Pourhouse with Tony and Kevin and I have just returned from that and I have to work at 8am. So for now, just checking in, sayin' Howdy, and goin to bed...

howjoodoodat?

2007-07-02T23:11:00.000-06:00

MOJO FOR KATH!
-----
Totally ditched the feed I had on the right, and went back to a blogroll (or two), remind me if I'm missing you...
-----
Bought some Full Sail LTD tonight, it's batch #2 and is a really nice Lager "Courtesy of the Mad Skills of the Full Sail Crew" - sez so right on the label. Hooray for Oregon Beer (and the #3 windsurfing spot in the world, it's INLAND!)
-----
Thanks to Jack White, I think I'm about to go into a serious ROCK phase, if you have any recommendations, hit 'em up.
-----
I worked late tonight, and have to be in early tomorrow. Day before the 4th, it's Grilleration stock up day. Gon'a be a busy one. After that though, I get to go pick up a friend from the airport and hang out and such, hooray for that.
------
In fifth grade I was selected to be a peer mediator for my school. It was a pilot program for Jeffco Schools that trained a bunch of kids to work with their younger schoolmates and help them resolve disputes. I did it for two years, and we did some really interesting things. I look back now and think about how bold a move it was for the educators to try something like that. It's pretty cool, and I still dig it. Sometimes I wonder if they're still up to it.

Anyway, sometimes it comes back to me in the present, and I find myself thinking about the things they taught me back then, and actually using them. I had the opportunity to do a small bit of this the other night, with two friends who'd had an incident, and something blew me away. What amazed me was that when I found myself "in the middle" of it, (you know, being the guy that both parties entrusted the information to) I didn't squirm like a caught bug. I found that my awareness of both parties actually let me relax a bit, and instead of slapping my hands over my ears and saying "I don't wanna get caught in the middle, don't tell me anymore." I was able to try and help. And from the looks of it, things are on the mend. How cool.

A Monday Short... The Daily Dime: Manaroka

2007-07-02T00:40:00.000-06:00

Robyn: so what are you up to?
Gabe: besides melting?

It's nigh on 1am and still probably 80 something Fahrenheit in the house.

I'm trying to figure out how to pick up last nights MoPoMo post.

I'm trying to formulate 5Q's for two peoples.

I've got the writing bug real bad and it's showing in my IM language.

(an hour passes, full of IM conversation and a mothbug that hearts my monitor)

I'm debating writing a short.

No, screw that, I'm writing a short...

----------

The Daily Dime: Manaroka
- a Gargoyle story -
- Gabe Thexton -

The shadow of the house stood over him, black as leather, it's edges sharply defined by the grey-blue moonlight. He watched quietly as the cat stole across the field toward him. It paused as it saw him, it's eyes glinted amber in the lunar light, momentarily betraying the intelligent thoughts of a feline. It steered slightly left and continued it's saunter, arrogantly ignoring him and not passing a second glance his way.

He rose into the air with a push of his legs, powered his wings downward once, and was silhouetted against the moon like a lone bat. The cat would have had no chance, so he hadn't even bothered. He'd rather hunt Woglanders, regardless of his failure rate at that. It reminded Ta'alark of something the human had said, something about fishing. Fishing, that strange sport that the human so adored, maybe that was the feeling that Ta'alark got from diving after those Sleptoid Woglanders.

He powered his way across the northern hemisphere of Earth, and soon felt the familiar cold of the Arctic. The Borealis danced their welcome and he flew toward their doorway with the scent of Sleptoid on his mind. The lights thinned and the stars changed, this was home, this was his own sky. It had taken ages for him to get used to the strange constellations of Earth, they still bothered him sometimes. But the skies of Manaroka were like a comfortable blanket, they warmed him instantly.

The thick trees spread from canopy to groves to clusters and finally branches as he dove towards his nest. He lit on the far side of the tree, if he got too close he sometimes still scared the human into vocalization. What a disturbing sound that being made.

"I'm here." he said into the darkness.

"Must you always growl like that?" the human asked, bothered.

"This is my voice, if it bothers you then you should know how much yours bothers me."

"Whatever, did you get me anything good this time?"

"You have no appreciation for anything." Ta'alark made sure the words were extra gravelly, and then made a show of producing an entire meal from his bag.

The human ate maniacally, pausing only to slurp down shell after shell of Kraple nectar. Ta'alark sighed and heaved his huge body backwards. He was soon asleep, dreaming of the skies of Manaroka.

----------
This has been a Daily Dime short story, find out more at DailyDime.Ning.com
--
This is the third in a spontaneous series of Gargoyle stories.
Click through for the First and Second shorts.

Somewhere to the left of center...

2007-06-30T23:17:00.000-06:00

Sometimes, in the spring usually...
When flowers start to bloom...
When lovers emerge to walk the streets and duck into tiny cafe's and trinket shops...
When the radio starts to play the song that will be the graduation anthem for that years classes...
Sometimes I get lovesick.
It's a feeling that's glorious to inhale and heart wrenching to exhale.
My cheeks tingle with numbness and my heart bubbles at the slightest nod from a lovely lady.
I could sit alone and listen to candy-pop for hours on end, eating chocolate until I died.
It is a feeling that one could use to define the word bittersweet.

I don't know if anyone else has ever had the same experience as me when it comes to this, probably because I've never really tried to communicate it. Anyway...

I don't feel that way right now, but it comes about the closest emotionally to what I feel tonight.

What I'm feeling is a lostness and a longing...(read the rest of this over at MoPoMo...)

----------
Pandora just played a version of 'Dream On' by a band called Fisher. You should check them out.
----------
I have to be at work at 7am. I'm currently sitting at my desk manning two blogger tabs, and a half-dozen mental tabs. Somehow I doubt I will get much sleep tonight.
----------

words...

I don't know where I'm going anymore,
I don't know where I'm going,
And I feel my footsteps slowing,
'Cause I don't know where I'm going anymore.

I washed up on this sandy shore,
Deafened by the ocean's roar,
On rocks my only clothing tore,
And I swore off water evermore.

Thirst and hunger collected their tolls,
And I ventured toward the distant knolls,
Fleeing the ocean's frightening rolls,
Dry land was safe compared to wet shoals.

I started out in search of a something,
But day after day I came upon nothing,
Soon my heart dried and I ran out of weeping,
I do not know what I am seeking.

I don't know where I'm going... anymore,
I don't know where I'm going,
And I feel my footsteps slowing,
'Cause I don't know where I'm going anymore.

I walk outside to go to work, and...

2007-06-28T15:36:00.000-06:00

Get a lesson in parking on the hill...

Sharon, you Bi#$@ !
----------
"No opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible."
- W.H. Auden
Join me in a song?

Five Questions

2007-06-28T00:40:00.000-06:00

Kath, I owe you this one...
It's been sitting in my inbox since I asked for it a month ago...
Anyone who wants five questions of their own need only ask, and I will send you five.
Remember the rules of this are that I ask you five and you post them, nothing else will fly...

-----
#1- In order to attain true happiness in life, you must own an exotic animal that will be a gift from the Denver Zoo. Which animal do you choose. Why?
I choose a Bengal Tiger. Because, (Incoming sentimentality....) Dad always called me his Tiger.

-----
#2- What famous venue/restaurant/landmark that you love from OR would you like to transplant to Denver?
I almost want to say that I couldn't do that because they are where they belong and they belong where they are... but for the sake of the question... I would move Powells Bookstore (along with the triangle at the intersection that contains the coolest interactive sculpture ever.) and I'd put it where the Pavilions is.

-----
#3- Nature or Nurture. Which is it. Why?
Both:

I am what I was when I first met the light,
I am what became of lullabies every night,
I am what my parents carried within,
I am what they told me again and again,
This me that you know is an intricate thing,
The 'ins' and the 'outs' made this human being.

(Hope that was sufficient, it's the answer that came.)
-----
#4 - Your most favorite dessert in the whole wide world. And why is it your favorite. Can you recreate it to your liking?
Good gracious Kath, what are you trying to do to me?!
In the last minute alone I have suffered cravings for at least eight fantabulous confectioneries.
I honestly don't think I could pick one.
This is my answer for the moment, and I promise I'll keep thinking on it until I come up with something reasonable.
-----
#5 - You have met the girl of your dreams. She is perfect in every way. She has a 300 piece teacup collection that goes where ever she goes. You hate teacups. You loathe them beyond belief. How do you handle this situation?
My first and 'gut' response to this question is: "She's not the girl of my dreams, She is not perfect in every way. This is an unfair question, I demand you retract it."
My answer to this question is: "[Insert her name here], you can have an entire room devoted to your teacups, as long as they stay there and I don't have to deal with them. In turn, I get a room devoted entirely to my hobbies and you don't have to deal with them. I love you."
-----
once again, sorry it took so long Kath, and anyone who wants questions need only email or leave a comment...
(also, random note, anyone trying to mail me at my Yahoo address will be SOL, it is inactive...)

Just for fun: The color of my Soul

2007-06-27T11:45:00.000-06:00

I don't normally do these things... But for some reason, when I saw it on Kath's Blog, it struck me as interesting. So I went and took it, and was pleasantly surprised by the result.

What color is your soul painted?

Grey

Your soul is painted the color grey, which embodies the characteristics of elegance, humility, respect, reverence, stability, subtlety, wisdom, strong emotions, balance, and cancellation. Grey falls under the element of Water, and symbolizes the moon, tide, ebb and flow.

Click Here to Take This Quiz

Quizzes and Personality Tests

Life and things and the like...

2007-06-26T13:47:00.000-06:00

I could spend hours recalling and typing all the things that have happened to me in the last week or two, while I have been away from blogging. Or I could just freak out...

OMG! OMG!! OMG!!! OMG!!!!
Jack White is a freaking GENIUS!
These White Stripes have the right stripes,
Icky Thump makes my heart go thump!
Listening to this CD, I am reminded why classic rock is classic, and why Robert Plant is a god amongst rockers. Jack White is looking to join him here real soon. My oh my.

... ok, done freaking out.
time for an...
Emo journal entry...

Dear Diary, sometimes I think you're the only one that understands me. Also, money and girls stink.

... ok, enough of that...

I'm on Facebook now, add me.
Anyone want to sell me a house for cheap? I'm really done moving all the time and want somewhere to hang my boots for a while.

I had some other things I wanted to write in here, but I can't remember them at the moment.

Open casting call for pods...

2007-06-26T10:46:00.000-06:00

Podcast: a portable form of internet radio.

Why should you know this definition?

Because there's a new one in town.

A new podcast that is, not definition...

It's called Pipes & Pints.

It stars my friends Arthur, Cuyler, and Robert.

There's two episodes up now.

Oh, and I'm in the second one...

So go listen to my tiny little voice (which I hate, but which others say is normal).

You know....

2007-06-20T00:15:00.000-06:00

sometimes I just don't feel like blogging.

see ya when I do...

Diem Ex Inferis

2007-06-16T01:23:00.000-06:00

I don't even wanna talk about it. It was that rough.

I bought something, it's funny because Todd and I were talking the other night about how we've been generally staying away from the Deal-a-day sites because they get too tempting. I said that the one exception was that I was looking for a new monitor, but that I'd not had much luck. Lately all I've seen on Dealsucker are these massive (40-something inch) refurbd' HDTVs. Of course, the very next night, what do I find but the size, brand, contrast ratio, and price that I've been looking for... NEW!
Then I sez w00t!
Now I can give Tony back his fifteener that I've been borrowing, and Cragislist the 21' CRT monstrosity that is taking up nine cubic feet of my room. By the way, that CRT is an old NEC pro monitor that retailed in '97 for $2079. Two flippin' grand!

it's lonely in my brain: words...

2007-06-15T11:12:00.000-06:00

If I blogged and no one came,
Would my blogging be the same?
Would I still tell of movies and friends,
Or would my words have other ends?
Would my opinions break no hearts,
Would I write about your smelly farts?
Would my deepest secrets come to light,
Like a burglar caught in bright floodlight?
Would my nonsense lead to brilliant wit,
Or come popping out like a drunk girls tit?
Is there anything I wouldn't say,
If no one came to my blog today?

----------

If I wrote down my every thought,
The friends I have would soon be naught.
...But a though doesn't count if thought only once...
If I said everything that came to mind,
I'd utterly wish that I could rewind.
...Sticks and stones leave bruises, but words are Nukes...
If I did everything that I wanted to,
I wouldn't be me, and you wouldn't be you.
...A deed begun, can ne'er be undone...
The things we do and say and think,
Are portions written in permanent ink.

...put the D at the end, you get Unkind Donuts.

2007-06-13T23:46:00.000-06:00

The DVD has ended and I have closed Google Talk, the conversations have ended and the menu keeps repeating, but the brief piano chorus is pleasant enough that I don't really mind. What movie? Oh yeah, sorry, it's Wordplay. I gave it **** of ***** on Netflix, need I say more?

Long ago I put some things on an Amazon wishlist, then I went and forgot about it. For my birthday this year, Mom and Dad got me some things off of it. To tell the truth, it kinda freaked me out when Dad said he got the stuff off of my wishlist. I wasn't sure that I still wanted the things that he might have gotten me. When the unwrapping revealed that I'd been given an Issac Asimov book of mystery shorts I was somewhat relieved. Now that I've started reading the book, I'm thrilled. I really enjoy these stories and their characters and so on and so forth. This is definitely not the first book in the catalog, but the stories stand alone and I'd recommend any of the collections. Readers, do yourself a favor, pick up a Black Widowers book by Asimov (the one I got is 'Return of...").

Next up on Netflix... Murderball (at home), Pizza, Land of Plenty, and A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints, then it's off Deeper into the Depths of Darkest Documentaryland... lordy I'm a Geek. Alliterate THIS!

words...

It's after midnight
I just went into the Kitchen
It was dark and I knocked some stuff down
Glass and silverware, it was really loud
Yet my roommates snore like boulders.

I just don't think that's right
They're both passed out n' sleepin'
I doubt they even turned roun'
I really don't think I'd be proud
To sleep while hell froze over.

The Daily Dime: Never Saw it Coming

2007-06-11T10:30:00.000-06:00

I initially wrote this story for the very first week that Cuyler and I did the Dime, way back at the end of March. It's a story about a little girl and a horse, It's longer than most of my Dime stuff and I never got around to typing it. Enjoy...

---------

Never Saw it Coming
- Gabe Thexton
---------

The girls' mother returned from the ranch office, pausing a few feet away to watch her daughter bond with the yearling horse.
"What are you going to call him?"
The little girl beamed. "Diamonds."
"Diamonds? With an 'S'?"
"Yes mommy, with an 'S'! See, there's three of them... One, Two, Three!"
"I see, ok, Diamonds it is." her mother said.
The girls' smile seemed permanent as she slid her hands across the three white patches just behind the ear of the colt.
"Ten more minutes and then we have to leave."
"OK." She sighed It isn't fair she thought to herself, I don't wanna move to the city, I don't care how cool it is.

The truck bounced slowly down the road. The girl stared out the back window until her mother spoke. "Lucille, please buckle up." She sat with a huff, and watched with tears in her eyes, as they passed under the arch and she read through the drops her least favorite phrase in the world. 'Thanks for visiting The Sky - Ranch and Stables, come again soon.'
"I will." she said into the quiet of the truck cab.
"What?" her mother looked over quizzically.
"Nothing." she turned, looking out the window, resting her chin on her hands.
Their drive wasn't far, straight then left. All the houses on their street backed right up to 'The Sky'. Her mother broke the silence as they pulled into the driveway.
"I'd like you to go straight upstairs and finish packing your room right away." She nodded in response, the afternoon was almost over and the remainder of the evening passed quickly.

Lucille finished packing and opened her window, sitting on a stack of boxes. She watched her siblings play in the back yard, and her eyes constantly drifted outward, scanning the huge ranch for any sign of the colt she was being forced to leave behind. It's my horse, why can't I stay here with it?

"Hey Lucy!" POP! She fell backwards, boxes tumbling, and landed fortuitously on a pile of blankets. Her older brother Sam had hurled a whiffle ball at her window. She raced downstairs and out the back door, nearly taking out her four year old sister Marie. She flew off the steps and with a happy scream, launched herself at Sam. And then she was hanging in the air, her shirt pressing into her armpits. It was Alex, the oldest, he and Sam always took sides against the girls. It wasn't fair Marie is only four, she can't even play all the stuff we do, I'm always by myself.
Their mother stuck her head out the door. "Alex, put your sister down and go pick up the pizza from D'Alessios'. The rest of you pick up these toys and get them packed."

They picked up their toys...

They ate good pizza...

And against all odds, Lucille Martin forgot her worries and slept like a small boulder that night.

Her father carried her to the truck the next morning, and they were almost halfway to the city when the truck bounced over a pothole and she opened her eyes, half awake. Sam let out a shout. "Lucy's awake! We can finally have breakfast!" Lucy poked at her eggs, they weren't very hot and the spring in her seat cushion was broken, it was one roadside diner that would be forgotten easily enough. Her mind drifted back to Diamonds. I hate moving, I hate Daddy's new company, I don't even care how big my new room will be, and who wants a pool anywa?y, that just means more chores.

They moved in, the house was huge, the neighbor kids were cool, her teacher was nice, and Lucy began to adjust to her new life. One night, seemingly out of the blue, her friend Alice called. She wanted Lucy to come out for a visit. They both had three-day weekend's coming up, their mothers worked out the details. They'd meet halfway, at that Diner with the cold eggs and broken springs.

It was fun being back in the country. Thursday night Lucy and Alice terrorized the neighbor-boy. Alice had a crush on him, Lucy sang "Alice and Tommy, sittin' in a tree..." Alice knocked her off the bed, and Lucy landed, fortuitously, in a pile of blankets.

"I miss the horses." she said, rolling over onto her sleeping bag.

"The colts are old enough to ride now." Alice spoke softly, and her words were followed by slow breathing. Soon she was snoring and Lucy was alone with her thoughts. She tried to sleep, but she couldn't, all she could do was think, and all she could think about was her horse.

Alice woke as the sun crept into her bedroom. Her tired head bobbed as she headed downstairs for some breakfast. Her mother heard the creaking stairs. "Morning you two." You two? Alice thought for the briefest of seconds, and remembering Lucy, turned and sprinted up the stairs. Now fully awake, she burst into her room, and launched herself onto the bed. She slid clear off the other side and landed giggling on the pile of blankets.
Alice stopped giggling.
"Lucy?" She checked the closet.
"Lucy!" She flung the bathroom door open. "Mo-om! I can't find Lucy!"
"Calm down honey, her mother said she sleepwalks, check the basement or something."

She checked the whole house, once, twice, and it was on her third time round that she noticed her missing 'Bratz' pillow. The pillow that Lucy had been sleeping on, then she noticed that Lucy's things were gone too.

"Mo-om! Her stuff is gone!"

Her previously unconcerned mother now panicked, and it was Alice who had to gather the family for a search of the neighborhood. She went to Tom's, sent her mom to the Martins' old house (just in case she had been sleepwalking), and her dad drove all around the neighborhood. When their search turned up nothing, her dad called the Martins. He was surprised to learn that they were not too far away. He hung up the phone. "They were making a day trip out of a business stop Albert had to do. They got the whole family in the truck, They'll be here in an hour."

The Martin family sat in their four-door F-350, silently passing the mile markers. Their day had turned sour in a matter of seconds as their mother had explained that...

"Lucille is missing and we have to go find her."

Alex, Sam and Marie fidgeted in their seats, unable to enjoy even music. Worried and upset, they waited out the drive. Alex tried to move their thoughts, he tried to play Twenty Questions, but Marie only wanted to ask where Lucy was. The road dragged on, but finally they reached familiar territory. The ranch was now on their left, and of in the distance was a row of houses that they knew to be their old neighborhood.

It was then that there was a collective gasp from the back seat of the truck, and the Martin children shouted..."Look!"

Then, with great excitement, and from oldest to youngest, they exclaimed...

"It's Lucy!"

"In The Sky!"

"With Diamonds!"

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This has been a Daily Dime short story.
Read more stories, and find out more about the authors at:
Daily Dime Dot Ning Dot Com

*Authors note: Sorry, I couldn't resist.

all's well that ends well...

2007-06-09T00:28:00.000-06:00

Late to bed and early to rise, gives a man tired and heavy eyes.

Had a nice evening with Giles and Emily, we went to see Oceans 13 and then did happy hour at the Yard House (outside where it's quiet). Oceans was pretty good, the theatre chuckled for most of the movie, I just hope they have the sense to not make another one.

It's interesting adjusting to having a car and the social world that it opens up for me. It's nice to have that flexibility again.

I'm working on a writing project again, one that I haven't touched in a long time, hopefully I can have something up this week.

see ya 'round...

They look like big strong ears... don't they?

2007-06-07T02:36:00.000-06:00

I came here to blog
But the internet died
So then I decided to go outside
The wind was a blowin'
The clouds 'cross the sky
And it was kinda chilly
So I came back inside

The internet's back
And here I am typing
But my mind has gone blank
Like windshields 'a wiping
So this is a poem
Just something to say
'Cause the wind just blew all my thoughts away.

Ten Till

2007-06-06T10:37:00.000-06:00

The Future Must be Quite a Burden

Was and Is sat on a bench.

"Is?"

"Yeah Was?"

"What's going on right now?"

"By the time I tell you, you'll already know."

"True, but for once I'd like to know."

"Tell me about it."

"Whaddya mean? You always know everything right away."

"Yeah, but Will's a jerk and he never tells me anything."

-:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:--:|:-

I got online to post that short, and then ended up reading 20-some-odd pages of I CAN HAS CHEEZBURGER? and lol-ing my head off...

Other things of interest... Poet Robert Bruce -:|:- What the World Eats -:|:- LOL Wesley

Comment response for The Golden Compass - 12.07.07 : Cuyler, the daemons are everywhere in this trailer, especially in the 'battle' scene. Kath, you have a point, but in this situation the movie is not so much set in the future as in an alternate world that is (i think) in our past. Also, the main characters are Londoners and the books were written by a Brit, so in this case, it fits rather well. Check out His Dark Materials folks, they're great books.