Painful Pleasure

I don't have any music on at the moment, but on the way home from Boston i was listening to Pink Martini (the day's smooth finish called for their smooth music), followed by Joni Mitchell's album "Both Sides Now" as the evening became a bit more on the mellow side.

While moving Joe's various items out of his apartment today, i came to an odd realization. More of an observation, really.

There came a point where the seventeen foot UHAUL truck had to be moved from its parking spot to a new one, just 30 feet away. When you're moving a bed, bureau, small refridgerator, among many other items of varying weight, thirty feet makes a huge difference. It was going to be parked directly behind my car (by direclty, i mean three inches off the bumper).

I had to go up the stairs to aid in the descension of a bin or two of random items, so i was probably going to miss the excitement of reparking a giant truck. For a guy, that is exciting. So i'm at the top of the four flights (eight sets) of stairs for the twenty-seventh time today. And what do i want to do? Take it slow, keep from straining my already tender muscles, enjoy the view from each window i pass on the way down.

Nope.

I want to bolt down those stairs, trip over whatever's there, tenderize my muscles all the more, and not even bother with the windows. Why?

So i can see them repark the truck.

Yep. That's it. So i can be there when this large box-shaped piece of Americana moves thirty feet from one parking space to another. So i can watch the gap between its front bumper and the rear bumper of my own car (small enough to fit inside the truck) slowly decreases to an amount of space a man is proud of. Three inches of joy for seventy-two steps of pain.

But you know what? I'm not alone. We all do that. My cousin Chelsea, my best friend Joe, my ex-girlfriend Heather, and that guy that invented boneless buffalo wings. Everyone.

And the worst part? It's a voluntary action. Unlike the circulation of blood, the digestion of food, the sorting of sensory input, this takes conscious effort.

There's something. What it is for you is different than it is for me, but there's something in your life you go through pain to experience, to be part of. If there isn't, there should be. I know when i don't have my painful pleasure, i miss it. Something in me is not right. Something in me is lonely.

I'm not trying to make a point. Just sharing a thought i had while working my way down some stairs today.

Waiting For Joe

Thomas Newman, "yes" from the Meet Joe Black soundtrack

I'm sitting here on the couch, waiting for Joe to arrive with chinese food, high energy, and an anxious mind for tonight's season premier of 24. I've seen the show but once and found it predictably formatted. However, Joe has politely asked me to give it another chance and is hopeful that i too will become hooked upon its suspenseful plotline so that we can follow it together. Whether his plan will succeed or fail depends on many variables that will be carried out on the glass screen in front of us, and the various speakers placed throughout the room.

I have nothing specific to speak about, but suddenly felt the urge to place some thought into my humble blog.

I'm quite tired. I spent the weekend at my cousin Chelsea's house. The reason for my lack of sleep has to do with our extended bed times, and the comfort level of the fold-out couch that became my temporary bed. I don't imagine this week will bring with it an abundant amount of rest, but i shall remain hopeful that my body will be able to fully recharge by the weekend. I'm going to need full power at least by Sunday so that Joe's move will go smoothly and i won't drift off to an unconscious state while moving a large item down the four flights of stairs. The consequences of such would be more than i wish to openly speak of.

I had a great time at Chelsea's (Peri's as well...my other cousin with whom the house is shared). We did nothing noteworthy, but that simple fact is what made the weekend so enjoyable. We watched a couple movies ("Heart and Soul", and "Arlington Road"), talked a lot, took a walk through a small section of the rural roads in Woodstock (her town), and ate far more amounts of junkfood than the human body should really be able to process. I feel my heart growing increasingly angry with me for not healthily supplying my body with sustinence. "Reeses," it would say to me, "is NOT going to maintain this body. You need more vegetables and fruit to keep this thing running well." So, that's what i'm going to do. More vegetables, more fruit, less JUNK. Oh, and no more eating until i'm really full. Only until i'm satisfied. The guys at work in my CNSMC (Central Nervous System Main Control...the brain) are relaying what's being typed down to the CDCS (Central Department of the Circulatory System...the heart), and they're all chearing down there. I'm sure shouts of joy are going up from all over the body.

In case of questions regarding "Joe's move" (mentioned earlier), Joe is moving home from Boston for a few months to save money until we move in together at the end of the summer. Wise decision i feel. We're moving his stuff back this coming Sunday (the 22nd). We'll probably stop in at Ernesto's Pizza, in the North End. It's the best pizza we've ever eaten and we make it a point to stop there at least once when we're in the city together. I do hope we have time. Ernesto's is worth its own entry. I just might do that some time.

Well, Joe will be here soon so i should get going. No update yet on the "Liquid Thought" situation (for those of you who got to read the entry while it was still posted...see "Think Next Time" if you have no idea what i'm talking about). I'm certainly hoping for the best, but trying not to get ahead of myself. All in God's time.

Hang on, little tomato.
(Pink Martini album...and song, the lyrics of which apply to the aforementioned "Liquid Thought" situation)

Think Next Time

Dave Matthews Band, "#34"

I'm writing a little in frustration at the moment, but also with a new understanding of something stupid that i just did. For those of you who got to read the entry that would originally have been here, "Liquid Thought", good for you. For those of you who haven't, perhaps i'll put it back up at a later time.

Amy, i hate to admit this because i hate being wrong (though i like to think i'll admit when i am), but you're right. My heart is something to guard, to keep safe, to allow my Creator and certain trusted friends into. No one else. I didn't want to see that though. I wanted the movie-goers dream of pouring the heart out into an open crowd. But who's in that crowd? What're they going to do with it?

DAMNIT! I'm so frustrated. But do you know who i'm frustrated with the most? Myself. I kept saying to myself, "Adam, you always let yourself get carried away and you make rash decisions based on," yep, you guessed it, "the spirit of the moment." All this energy comes pouring into my heart and mind, and rather than filter it out a little at a time so as not to make quick, unwise decisions, i let it do exactly that. And then five minutes later (or in this case, a few days), i'm looking at myself saying, "What the hell did you do that for?"

This is not to say that a moment can't lead one to do wonderful things. It can. But at least in my case, it can also lead me to do very unwise things. It's something i'm trying to work on. Lord, help me out. Of course, You're already doing that aren't You? You've never given up on me and never will. You rock, God.

Alright, that's that.

So, again, for those of you who got to see that bit of my heart that sat here for the past few days, congrats. Do with it what you will. For those of you who didn't, maybe another time. Whatever the case, i've learned.

Control yourself, Adam.

I'd write more, but i'm so freakin exhausted. No sleep for me again tonight.

Sigh.

Fours & My House

John Williams, "Hook" soundtrack. I'm in a particular musical mood right now, but since i can't seem to find the proper music to accentuate it, this is what i ended up with.

Actually, typing that out and realizing that i have the ability to change things, i put on my "Quiet Songs" playlist from my iPod (on random). First song to come on is "Lenny" played by the exceptional guitarist, Stevie Ray Vaughan. Excellent.

Tiffany, this one's specifically for you. You can tell because as soon as i'm done identifying my musical environment, your name is the very first word. Normally, if i were to get an email with the "Fours" content asking me to fill out a survey, i'd probably delete it and continue on with my day. However, there are certain differences between an email and a blog that are working in your favor. I appreciate that you, while there were many options, included me in the four fellow bloggers asked to answer our own "Fours" questionaire (if it can be called that).

But, most of all, i'm extremely appreciative of your continued visits to my blog, your interest and enjoyment of my entries, and the comments that you leave me. With a certain fear of disrupting the balance between entry and comment, i must tell you that i sometimes come home with a hope that i will be able to read your reactions to my latest post. So, in return, i will fill out the Fours as you have requested.

Most people who know me well know that i tend to give an over-detailed answer to a question. Ask me something simple, and i'll reply having thought about background details that most would pass over or generally sum into their answer. So, some of my responses to the "Fours" may be a bit more lengthy than they need be. But that's the nature of getting to know someone, so if it ends up being the case, bear with me. Oh, and while i was "tagged" by Tiffany and i'm probably supposed to "tag" four other people, i'm not going to. Anyway...here it is:

FOURS

Four jobs I've had in my life:
Cashiere & Photo Technician @ CVS
Daycare Teacher @ The Stork Club
Not sure what exactly to call this, but I help set up the sanctuary for weddings @ my church
"Shop Boy" (as i like to joke) @ Jensen Machine

Four movies I could watch over and over:
The Iron Giant
Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory
Back To The Future (I or III)
Sleepless In Seattle
(It was very difficult for me to answer this question being such a movie guy. There are several others i could put here as well, but as i am limitted to but four, i shall abide by the rules.)

Four places I've lived:
Rocky Hill, CT (east/central part of town)
Rocky Hill, CT (west end of town)
Rocky Hill, CT (south eastern part of town)
West Hartford, CT
Yes, i've lived in three different houses in the same town. The first is where i lived until Jr. High, at which point we moved into my grandparents' (the second) because we sold our house but hadn't found a new one yet due to complications with a pending purchase in upstate NY. Then we found a house in another part of Rocky Hill and moved there (the third). And West Hartford is where i've been house/cat sitting since February, so i definitely count it as living here.

Four Places I've Been On Vacation:
Quebec/Montreal, Canada
Boulder, CO
Perdu, IN
Disney World, FL (it really should be its own town)

Four Websites I Visit Daily:
Google
Yahoo! Mail
That's really it. I don't have any daily routine websites, including my own blog.

Four (Current) Shows I Won't Miss:
Gilmore Girls
House
Yep, only two. I'm not a big TV fan. Nothing really good on, too many people trying to get your money through commercials.

Four Of My Favorite Foods:
Swordfish
Bertucci's "Shrimp Bella Venezia" Pizza
Pineapple Upside Down Cake (especially when my mom makes it...no offense to you, Amy, yours was delicious too)
Sushi

Four Places I'd Rather Be:
In the presence of God's glory
With my wife (whoever she may be)
North Western, MA
My House (Not the house i live in, but the place i go mentally when i need a break. It's a bit of a lengthy explanation, so i'll save it for after i fill all this out)

Four Ablums I Can't Live Without:
I'm the kind of person that wants to list every album i so dearly cherish, but it doesn't say "The Only Four" does it, Adam? No, so be a good sport and choose four at random. Very well.
"Motorcade of Generosity" - Cake
"Road To Perdition" soundtrack - Thomas Newman
"Hold On Little Tomato" - Pink Martini
"Come Away With Me" - Norah Jones

And there you have it, my "Fours" survey. And now for the explanation of "My House"

Okay. Ever since my freshman year of high school, i've had this quiet mental retreat where i go when things get a little too heavy. I've had visitors there (real ones, not imagined ones. I invite them, explain it to them, and they come along). So, here it is.

It's a two floor house, no basement. It sits on the beach, a few mild sand dunes on the sides and behind, just a little ways up from the shore in that long, wavy grass that sways with the ocean's breath. There's a wrap-around porch with a few rocking chairs and a bench swing. The inside is all hardwood floors, with nice big comfy couches and other equally inviting furniture. Everything within is designed to allow the soul room to stretch out and breathe freely, a reflection of the calming landscape outside the walls. There are two staircases leading upstairs. A regular one, and a spiral. The spiral is my preferred method for ascension, but the regular is equally functional.

The bedroom is upstairs (among other equally quiet rooms to retreat to). Four post bed, very little furniture in the room to keep it open and spacious. White sheets for that "clean" look. There's an upper porch as well (more of a deck) that my bedroom leads out to. Another rocking chair, another bench swing. It's that soft, slow, rocking/swinging that calms, much like the sound of the ocean surf. Another spiral staircase upstairs leads up to a Widow's Walk. For those of you that are unfamiliar with said structure, it's basically a deck on the roof. There's a hammock up there to watch the stars from.

I will go there during the day on occasion, but twilight on into the evening is when i most frequently visit. There's a pier a ways down the beach. Some nights it silently stretches out into the water, but sometimes there's a fairesque party on it (which i may or may not take a walk to be part of). You know, with all kinds of food, music, and games. Some nights there's the quiet sound of a piano that seems to quietly drift on the night's air from all around, and sometimes the sound of the waves is all i need. Most often there's a soft breeze that gently flows in through the tall open windows, waltzing with the long, white, drapey curtains. But i also enjoy the peaceful stillness of the cool air.

There are other small details that i'm still working out and that change from time to time, but that's my house. You're welcome to come with me some night. Whenever i have guests we usually have chocolate milkshakes or virgin pina coladas (the rum takes away from the flavor). I guess whatever we feel like.

Gear Up

Cake, "Stickshifts And Safetybelts". My favorite band, a great song.

For those of you who don't live in New England and don't pay attention to weather anywhere else but your own section of the country, it's snowing here in Connecticut. It began as a rainy mix last night, and somewhere between falling asleep and waking up, turned to snow. Well, it was sleeting a bit this morning, but we'll not bother with that. So, there have been soft white flakes drifting from above since 7:00 this morning. It's now 2:45, and it doesn't seem like it will stop any time soon. The flake size has lessened, and its rate of descent has decreased, but the sky is still 100 feet above the roof and the surrounding streets and homes are hazed by the thousands of flakes between them and myself. So...we've still got a bit to go.

I called out from work because as much as inclimate weather arouses a sense of adventure in my inner driver, the traction on my tires is nearing a complete absence and the roads don't seem as friendly as they did yesterday. Perhaps they woke up a bit chilled by the snow blanket that had been draped over them during the night, and as a result began their day on the grumpy side. One never knows with roads. I suppose they'd be a bit more pleasant if we bothered to converse with them once in a while about their wellbeing and what could be done on our parts to help its improvement. Otherwise they shall continue feeling used and underappreciated. And i can't say as i blame them.

My father, who happens to be the foreman at the machine shop (where i work now, in case you've missed it in an earlier entry or i am at fault by neglecting to inform you of the change), understood and said that he would see me tomorrow. And that he shall. But, in the mean time, i am in a small, white, suburban, three-floor (including the basement) American home with two cats as company, good music to keep my spirits high, and snow to keep the windows from getting bored.

I was leaving my cousin Chelsea a message on AIM, when i recalled something my brother and i like to do when our snow shovelling talents are required of the presiding Lord of the Manor. We gear up with our coats, hats, gloves, boots (extra socks if it's extra cold), and shovels as our tools. What i am about to describe to you is "make believe", but i'm going to tell you how we see it so you get the whole experience yourself.

Some things you may need to know:
airlock = door leading into the garage
cargo door = garage door
cargo bay = garage

We've landed on an alien planet, and my brother and i are being sent out to explore a small surrounding area and secure it for any further explorations. We gear up in our pressurized suits (including tear proof gloves, heavy durability kevlar lined boots, and helmets of equally cool and functional qualifications). We check the pressure gauges to the airlock to ensure equal pressure inside and out. If all is well, we crank it open, step into the cargo bay area, then close and lock the door behind us. For extra caution, we recheck our suits making sure they've been put on correctly and are without any tears or loose connections. We depressurize the cargo bay, then open the cargo door and slowly venture out into the unknown.

Never before have we encountered such a bizarre and beautiful landscape. The ground seems to be covered with trillions of small white flakes. Sensors indicate their temperature to be about 30 degrees ferenheit. Lab tests, after microscopic analysis, will determine they are in fact crystalic structures comprised of solidified water. When heated above 32 degrees ferenheit, they return to a liquid state. We also discovered some far denser solidified liquid that adhered to whatever surface it was on when it reverted to a solid state.

We use our highly advanced tools to remove the crystal flakes, named "snow" by the head scientist, to clear a path for outgoing and incoming vehicular exploration teams. The "ice" (what the same scientist named the denser solid) took more work and effort to clear, but eventually succumbed to our advancements. Our vehicles were not quite outfitted for the much lesser friction between their tires and the snow, but we outfitted them with some heavier treads we had brought along, resulting in greater performance.

Anyway, you get the picture. We would do this every time we had to go out and shovel. We were explorers, or warriors destroying that which dared to cover our driveway. It was always fun, and i still do it sometimes when i'm by myself. Except now i have even more advanced machines that move the snow at faster speeds with little effort from me. Our team has become quite accustomed to the environment, and our methods of innovation have helped in many ways.

The haze between my eyes and the school in the backyard is growing weaker, and i'd like to get outside before the snow completely stops. So, dear readers, i will leave you with the above and hope that it will perhaps give you inspiration to go outside or at least use your imagination. It certainly helps work to be less "work"and more fun.

Gear up.

Popcorn Kernels

originally typed this up on December 20th (2005), saved it as a draft and just remembered i had it.

No music; actually the TV is on. I'm watching CSI. I've never written (typed) an entry while watching TV. I hope i don't make a habit of it. It goes without saying that i'll only be typing while the commercials are on, but it doesn't make a difference to you does it? You wouldn't even know if i hadn't said anything. But i'm here to be honest, right? Yes...yes i am.

For lunch at work today, i had an apple (Courtland), a banana (are there different varieties of bananas?), and popcorn (Big Y, butter). I felt i needed a healthy lunch since the last week or so has been practically nothing but takeout, frozen, or snack food (the bad stuff). I realize that microwave popcorn isn't exactly "healthy", but it's better than a lot of the stuff i've been eating, including tonight's dinner. Tonight it's more that i ate too much than it is the quality of the food. But anyways...

After lunch, as i returned to my previous work, i found a kernel in my teeth. You know, the kind that get down into your gums and somehow resist every attempt at removal. Wiggling it back and forth just tires your tongue, and trying to pry it out is just as pointless. After several unsuccessful attempts, you can't help but play with it. Your tongue keeps moving around this little corn shell. (From this point on, all material is from January 2 [2006]) It's obvious that you're not going to rid yourself of this irritating oral occupant, yet your tongue returns to it over and over. If you just left it alone, you'd no longer be constantly aware of it, and it would eventually work its way out.

And i thought that's kind of like life's problems. The more you try to work them out through your own control, the harder they become and consequently the more irritating. Granted there is some work that must be done on your part, but there's also some patient waiting for some things to work themselves out. Just let the kernel work itself to a point where you can take over. But until then, be patient.

This all sounded much better in my head. Now that i see all that i have typed out, i don't like it as much. But that's okay. I'm leaving it for you anyways.


I'm listening to my "Quiet Songs" playlist on my iPod. Right now the sweet sound of Sarah McLachlan's voice is singing her song "Angel".

So i hung out with Jaime last night. I hadn't talked with her for a couple weeks, so it was nice to see her. We watched Lemony Snicket's A Series Of Unfortunate Events (again, a title too long to say and type), and Spielberg's War Of The Worlds. I didn't really care what we watched, to be honest. It was just nice to spend time with her, lightly cuddling (as opposed to the heavy stuff: spooning and all that). The conversation was comfortable, as it usually is with her. We laugh a lot together too; i really like that. Be careful, Adam. Be very careful.

There are things that i want, and there are things that must be. I pray for God to guide me through deciphering the difference between each.
I'm being vague on purpose.

Sigh.