I'm not exactly sure what it is about thunderstorms that promote creativity in my mind. I would like to think that only something so raw and elementally powerful as nature has enough sway to calm my mind, and allow the information to flow freely.

Sort of like the idea of the turnpike... its all the same mantra to me. Find something that you cannot help but be humbled by, and your mind will follow.

The thunderstorm today has me thinking of a scene from my not too distant past. Lets see if I can paint the picture:

The heavy scent of ozone and dust is blown in the gentle breeze through the windchime. As the dancing notes ring out through the red adobe brick buildings, steady rain falls on the dry earth ground and brick rooftops creating a stuccatoed accompanyment. The wooden porch below your feet creeks with each shift of your weight, and is worn smooth from years of rocking chairs and summer evenings. From within the open doorway behind you, the sounds of soft music and commerce can be heard as tourists purchase those unique southwestern knick knacks. In an adjacent room someone turns a rainstick, sending the tiny seeds within bouncing down the labrynthine honeycomb within. Lighting gently parts the sky, and a low roll of thunders follows nearly simultaneously, and you can hear the giggles tinged with superstition crest the children's lips as they set the rainstick down, just to be safe. As the sun slowly sets over the purple mountains, you can hear the first snaps of the logs on the campfire, and the buzzing of the locals as they set about preparing for a warm evening.

I miss it.

Given that the weather is getting warmer, the days longer, and the momo population thinner in number, I thought it appropriate to do a bit of day dreaming. In that light, I have taken some time to think of a list of things that I would like to do this summer.

Feel free to do the same, as is SOP for the Ringers.

1. Raft the upper Potomac, and learn to kayak.

2. See the National Symphony Orchestra down on the Mall.

3. Go camping... anywhere away from the noise.

4. Get a new car.

5. Visit my grandmother in Michigan.

6. Road trip to Atlanta.

7. Spend a week with my fam back in Colorado.

8. Finish my story.

9. Crab Feast, doesnt matter where as long as they're fresh.

10. Start my exercise schedule again.

11. King's Dominion, or one of the various theme parks in the area.

I think those should keep me occupied. Any and all are welcome to join me, of course. That way, when I fail to do them, I'll have someone to blame besides myself.

As usual, I have found myself engrossed in no less than 4 projects. As my head spins wildly, I even have found enough time to focus momentarily on some real work from time to time. So lets do a quick update:

Weather: Cloudy, grey, threatening to thunderstorm.... couldnt be happier.

Temp: Who knows, I havent been outside all day except for that mostly incoherent amble to the metro station I made this morning. All I particularly remember was that it was bright.

Listening to: "Love Song for Noone" ~ John Mayer

Skotos: I'm currently knee deep in area descriptions and enjoying it quite a bit. When I do actually play, things are progressing as they normally have. Slowly, and with a more than healthy dose of melodrama. But nothing some good old fashioned gooning cant clear up.

Writing: My spy has yet to get out of that damn car, given that the author cant seem to make a decision to save his life. I may have to resort to tossing a few back and babbling into a tape recorder. Though I'm not normally one to condone such a flagrant creation of blackmail material.

Graduation is sunday, and then all the Real World rejects can go back to the hell from whence they spawned and leave me be for a few, short, blessed months. I cant wait.

Oh! The University is quickly becoming the "elephant graveyard" of child actors. One such balding individual who will remain nameless was spotted losing horribly at foozeball to my roomate the other evening. Now if only we could up the ante and start pulling in some mid twenties actresses to the grad programs. I think I'll talk to the admissions folks about that one.

Alrighty, thats about all for now.

As if the cast from "High Fidelity" decended on the BRoF, the gauntlet has been cast to rehash the friday five, this time supplanting albums for individual songs.

As for an album I dont like admitting I enjoy, I can honestly say that I dont purchase or listen to entire albums that I dont like. Probably the most odd in my collection is a four track Holly McNarland cd that was given to me with a handful of free condoms at a health fair my sophomore year in college. Though the cd didnt get evoke any amorous reaction in my girlfriend at the time, in retrospect I do see some very distinct warning signs in the lyrics that should have clued me into the eventual disintigration of said relationship. In particular, the songs "Numb" and "Porno Mouth".

Two albums that make me cry. Why exactly why I buy and listen to an entire album that made me cry? I suppose I experience the widest range of emotions while listening to Billy Joel's Greatest Hits. But thats most certainly a cop out answer, like saying "most of my favorite words can be found in the dictionary".

Three albums that get me in the mood for lovin'.... hmm. Thats an interesting question. I find that very few complete albums are conducive to prolonged snogging. I prefer mixed cd's, carefully sculpted to provide the proper mood and mindset. If I had to pick one, it would be U2's "Joshua Tree". But as Mistress Dayna so cleverly noted, most selections in this category are time/place/person associations that are imprinted on the mind.

Four albums that make me happy. Perhaps the first question that can be answered. My first response, albeit without splendor, would be to say the 4 disk Buffett box set, "Bars, Boats, Beaches, and Ballads". But as Dayna would be horribly disappointed at that answer, I'll attempt to be more creative. First would be Buffett's "Banana Wind". The tracks "Schoolboy Heart" and "Bob Robert's Society Band" never cease to pick me up. Second would be Billy Joel's "Turnstiles". "Summer, Highland Falls", "Angry Young Man", and "James" remind me of my odd relationship with the state of New York. Eric Clapton's live acoustic album "Unplugged" is a fall driving staple. "Alberta", "Layla", and "Old Love" remind me of any woman I've ever dated, so they immediately garner a mid-disk track on my mix albums. I cant think of a fourth, so we'll move on.

My top five 'cant do without' albums, in no particular order..... will follow after some more thought.

Though it took me some time to dig the answers out of my brain, here they are.

1. One song that I hate to admit I like:

Well, I couldnt think of any, then I thought of two at the same time, so I'll list them both. "Bye, Bye, Bye" ~ N'Sync, and "Earl" ~ Dixie Chicks

2. Two songs that always make me cry:

"Cat's in the Cradle" ~ Harry Chapin
"He Went to Paris" ~ Jimmy Buffett

3. Three songs that turn me on:

"With or Without You" ~ U2
"Black Velvet" ~ Alana Myles
"Crash" ~ DMB

4. Four songs that make me feel good:

"Midnight Train to Georgia" ~ Gladys Knight and the Pips
"Shimmer" ~ Fuel
"Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful" ~ Jimmy Buffett
"Kate" ~ Ben Folds Five

5. Five songs I couldnt do without:

"Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" ~ Billy Joel
"Shape of my Heart" ~ Sting
"Crazy Love" ~ Van Morrison
"Shadowboxer" ~ Fiona Apple
"Tiny Dancer" ~ Elton John

Those are mostly just from my playlist here at work, as I have so many songs that I like for different reasons.

I think its safe to say that weddings in my family, even my extended family, are really more an excuse to justify alcoholic tendancies than they are a celebration of a blessed union. This weekends blurry events were no different.

But it was great to see my fam. Would post more, but I just had a case handed to me. Best get to work.

The other day it was pointed out to me that blogspot had turned my Turnpike into a pothole laden construction zone. With the gracious help of Herr Hampel, we have found a new home. And through my inability to resist the crooning internet siren, I have also switched to MT. Hopefully emotions apart from general malcontent will flow forth from my creative wells, thus providing
-something- interesting for public consumption.

Bye Bye Blogger.

"If all you have to do today is find piece of mind,
come round you can take a piece of mine.
And if all you have to do today is hesitate,
come here, you can leave it late with me.

You could be taking it easy on yourself
You should be making it easy on yourself
'Cause you and I know its all over the front page
You give me road rage
Racing through the best days
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy
Thinking you may be losing your mind." ~ "Road Rage" by Catatonia

There are a few women that I have an entirely unhealthy attraction to. Cerys Matthews is one of them. I have hazy visions of pub crawls and rodgering in the back seat of some grimy cab. Good God, y'all.....

Alright, time to go goon someone and get my mind back on track.

Gramted, I cant blame the month that passed between the time I last logged and the day I left for vacation on my vacation, but I'll still offer up that horrible excuse and hope it's simply accepted with open arms.

I know I say it to everyone all the time, but I really wish I could find a job doing something that I'm interested in out here in Colorado. It could be a number of things, I suppose, that draw me to this place, and I need not go into detail again about them. But this time, unlike years past, there was something distinctly lacking. The major thing that always out me back on the plane headed toward Washington were the memories associated with this city. Some good, some bad, all entirely more than I wanted to deal with. Maybe I grew up, or simply forgot, but those memories have seemed to subside ever so slightly. Honestly, I kind of miss them. And I'll still be getting back on the plane on the 2nd.

I got a new computer for Christmas that waits for me in Maryland. I suppose, if I chose to do so, I could now completely eliminate the HumInt side of my social life and purchase DAoC. We shall see. I also got a new jacket, a new pair of jeans, a hot lather machine, Last of the Mohicans on DVD, and a humidor from my sister and her fiance. All in all, I think I did pretty well.

What else has been going on.... the old man got a PS2 and a couple games for Christmas, so we have been spending a good portion of the morning attempting to rid the Nazi spectre from the peaceful peoples of Europe. This mornings mission, should we choose to accept it, was to assist a British paratroop unit in the decimation of 4 Panzer tanks and the company of men they have in escort. The fightings been hand to hand all morning as we slowly advance through winding city streets. The narrow Dutch architecture doesn't provide much cover from the merciless shower of lead that awaits. As I creep through the blown out upper floors of buildings, I finally catch a glimpse of the German tank commander surveying the approaches from the open hatch of his Panzer. I steady the crosshairs of my M3 as I see the remainder of his compliment round behind him. I squeeze the trigger, and he slumps lifeless on the tank. They only stay down for a second, and soon every eye and barrel is turning to my location. As the plaster begins to splinter around me, the last words my friend Jacques said to me before he disappeared into the blackness with his Resistence brethern ring through my ears... "Bon chance, mon amis."

Gotta love Medal of Honor: Frontline.

Besides that, nothing much of anything has been going on. I dont even think I left the house for more than 15 minutes yesterday. However, today the plan is to take the whole fam out to see the new LoTR movie. So I suppose showering would be in order. I miss chatting with you all, and cant wait to get back into the swing of things after the new year. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and have lots of fun planned for New Years. And, for my part, I will attempt to update this blog more regularly with entertaining tidbits wrenched from my twisted mind. Until then, auf wiedersehen, meine freunde.

So I'm sitting at my desk, drinking my Big Gulp, and staring at an excavation crew from the USACE filling in a huge hole they dug behind my office yesterday. They've been here for nearly two years now, digging out little nuggets of toxic joy they buried here during dubya dubya two. Everyone has grown rather used to their being here, and hasn't really been alarmed when a convoy of trucks rolls out with escort under the cover of darkness every second tuesday of the month...

Not that I'm taking notice of these things... I'm done with that genre.

But this time was a little different. Generally, they dig and dig and dig, and find nothing. Then fill in the hole, put this funky "fertilizer carpet" over the bald spot, and within a month, all is forgotten. Yesterday, however, they were digging and found something. You should have seen the excited frenzy they all went into. Little red and yellow hardhats dashed hither and yon passing the good word, and Phil, the tape guy, got to set up a perimeter. Mind you, all this is happening right outside my window. And I must admit, I was suddenly struck with the undeniable urge to put on my leather jacket and fedora and go outside. All I wanted to do was pace back and forth while they sang Salla's digging song, I dont think that was too much to ask. But Captain Buzzkill, the site CO, had told Phil that I wasnt allowed in. Phil was understanding, and even hummed a few bars of the digging song while I walked around him, but it just wasnt the same.

Anyway, eventually the giant digging arm clunked into something metallic, and a hush filled the yard. They poked and prodded it for a couple minutes, whispered amongst themselves, and eventually decided to grasp it by the top and yank whatever the hell was down there out. Not the most scientific approach, I thought, but who am I to judge? All I wanted was that damn song. The whole "birthing" process, as I hear is what they refer to that stage as, took about 20 minutes. And when they were done, we had a huge, rusted out oil drum sitting on a tarp in the back yard.

See, this is where I would think they would send in some sort of crew, preferably someone with a couple letters in front of their name, would come in and ET the whole area. Not that such would be necessary, but it would be entertaining for me to watch. Instead, they filled the hole back in, and left the barrel sitting there on the tarp. A break you ask? Oh no, they went home. In fact, its 11 am and they're just now returning. I understand that they probably determined that the drum was long since empty and harmless, but they could have at least covered it with something.

*Sigh*... no song, no pacing, no ET containment unit, and no damn crate to be taken downtown and put in the big storage room. These people have no concept of archeology.

It was a lazy day at parking and traffic, so I decided to take a couple of my workstudies with me on the afternoon neighborhood patrol. We wrote tickets as we walked, and I told them stories about the various neighbors that live in the influential Spring Valley community behind campus. It was a most enjoyable outing.

Until we got to 45th street. The mens soccer team was practicing at the field there, and saw us writing tickets on their cars. Why a well conditioned athlete would whine about having to walk the entire two blocks from legal parking on main campus to get to the field is beyond me, but still they complain. As we were walking away, one of them shouted at us, "What the fuck is this?"

I replied as I always do, "Thats a traffic violation for being parked illegally in the neighborhood."

His educated retort was, "What, we cant park here now?"

I nodded and informed him of the new regulations. This must have displeased him, because as I turned to walk away again, he tore up the ticket and shouted, "Why dont you go eat a sandwich, fat boy."

Fat? Moi? I might be a bit less svelt than I was at his age, but I'm in no way fat. I ignored his pointless meanderings, and simply walked on.

It was then that my workstudies pleasantly surprised me. They were both demure young ladies, one a freshman and the other a sophomore, and though most effective, I never thought of them as truly enthralled by the job. But one turned to the other and said, "You get that plate?"

Her companion nodded, and said to me "We'll have him booted by friday, sir."

I love my little goonlings.

Got to come in late today, woke up without the need for an alarm, feeling rather chipper. Not going to let said mood be destroyed for any reason.

Music for the Commute: Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

Made me think all sorts of happy thoughts that I'll explain at a later date.

Somehow, I thought today would be a good day to quit smoking.

That may have been a tad premature. I arrived to work this morning to find that I was the only person in my unit to show up to work. This was unexpected, and therefore I hadnt planned accordingly. So as I sat, quietly toiling at the desk, the Chief in her subtle manner demanded that I write tickets in the neighborhood. I just didnt feel like fighting her. I opened parking in the commuter lot, abandoned the desk to the only other person available, and trudged reluctantly into the cold rain sans hat or rain jacket. That was the unprepared part.

Lets do a little cost/benefit analysis on that chiefly decision:

I wrote 22 tickets in the neighborhoods at $75 a piece. Of these, I would say 7 will be paid. = $525
The neighbors, should they be monitoring my every move today, will be pleased that tickets were issued = less angry phone calls from neighbors
Those unfortunate and unknowing scofflaws who by all posted regulations were parked legally will be pissed = more angry calls from everyone else
Opening parking in a 900 space lot at $12/day on a rainy monday = -$300
I had no hat or coat, so I will probably get sick = everyone who even thinks about doing something illegal will immediately get the axe

Somewhere in there is the seed of my discontent.

So be it. I think I have one I might share.

My last girlfriend in high school and I had a secret code that would indicate to the other when one of us was feeling a slight randy. We would be meshed together on the couch watching MST3K, or, I dont know, randomly running into eachother between classes, and one of us (usually me, but thats too be expected) would ask "Wanna go get some ice cream?" I'm sure that anyone who witnessed this little exchange would be able to immediately spot the ruse by the unbridled sexual fervor relecting in my eyes, but no one ever made mention. It was on one of these "ice cream" outings that I was the closest to being arrested as I think I have ever been.

We had driven out along a dirt access road behind her neighborhood to what we both agreed was a safe distance, and nearly leaping into the backseat of my parent's Honda we commenced to indulging our carnal lust. Things were, uh... progressing nicely for lack of a more delicate term, when the car was suddenly illuminated by headlights from behind. Quickly scrambling to retrieve articles of clothing, I ventured to peer out the rear window and determine who was there. The headlights were solo and unmoving, but there was no evidence of red and blue party lights. At this, I rapidly became enraged. Who the hell was this hologen wielding momo that thought it his right to interrupt my intriquately rehearsed symphony so near the triumphant fanfare? Brief heartbeats before I strode from the car in full confrontation mode, the observer peeled out passed us, followed shortly thereafter by another car. We guessed they were off roading, and stumbling upon our location, paused in hopes of catching a private glimpse of the ravishing young thing I was with. Laughs were exchanged as we finished dressing and commented on the dire need to find a new hobby. Returning to the front seat, we buckled up and I turned on the car to drive home. As the engine sputtered to life, so did the search light of the prowler moving slowly to our position. Thinking perhaps I could just drive away citing "no harm, no foul", I placed the car into gear. This action was met with red and blue flashers, and a voice from the loudspeaker. "Place the vehicle in park and turn off the engine."

Fuck.

By the time the female officer reached the car, I was certain that beads of sweat had sought fit to replicate the post-coital bliss that had nearly faded.

"Evenin'. What's going on here?", she asked, her oversized flashlight searching the car for evidence of something illegal.

"We're just talking. Having some problems, and needed to talk." I replied, keeping my answers both simple and quite obviously false.

"Can I see both your drivers liscenses, please?" This is where things really became worrisome. You see, whereas I was a strapping 18 and gearing up to begin my collegiate endeavour, she was a blossomed 15 and yet two months shy of leaving the protected scope of statutory law.

"I dont have a driver's liscense, but I have an ID." Thanks love... lets save the officer the trouble of highlighting the problem. The cop studied the ID's in her cruiser as we sat motionless in the car, more terrified of what her father would do to me than any legal ramifications. After the requisite eternity we law enforcement types spend doing menial checks and letting the detained stew, the officer returned and gave us both our cards back.

"We've had reports of cars tear-assing around back here." This was my opportunity to divert attention. Without hesitation, yet much more calm now, I detailed that two vehicles passed us, and described them with such terrified precision that the officer knew I had suffered enough in my own thoughts. Recommending that we find a less secluded spot to engage in coversation, she bid us both a good evening, and I motivated away poste haste. After that, our "ice cream" trips were made to a remote water tower access road north of town about 20 minutes. The rolling foot hills were purple with wild heather, and provided plently of cover. That spot, that my buddies and I later dubbed "Observatory", holds a very special place in my heart. Since that summer six years ago, an entire new subdivision has been built there, and at the spot that once we felt the most at ease, two streets now intersect.

Stanley Canyon Drive and Long Hollow Road. That strange coincidence still makes me laugh.

Current Temp: 51 degrees
Humidity: 86%
Pressure: 29.93 inches and rising

Reading: "Stone of Tears" ~ Terry Goodkind
Listening: "Don't Know Why" ~ Nora Jones
Writing Progress: 12 pages and rolling steady with the addition of "Chicago Bears Sweatshirt"

Cold: Still here, but breaking up. Should be 100% by weeks end.
Car: Still in the shop, but insurance companies have been rattled and checks are being cut.
Party Animals: the reports of theft were largely false, and so my worries are no more. But I will be more vigilant from now on.