Cork Day 8: My Last Full Day (part 1 of 2)
Cork was founded by St Finn Barre in the 7th century. He settled the marsh that we now know as Cork. A town grew around his monastery, and his monastery eventually gave way to a cathedral. In the 16th century, the Church of Ireland--under the direction of Henry VIII made that Cathedral part of their church. In the 19th century, that cathedral gave way to the new one, the one I have pictures of. The grounds of Finnbarr's Cathedral are definitely sacred; as wavering as my faith is, I could feel it. I was completely disheartened to see litter on sacred ground...so I cleaned it up.
From this point, I knew when i went to light a candle for my parents, it would be a special occasion. Cork, like many European cities, has so many chapels, churches and cathedrals, I thought that they would all have something sacred about them. The church I chose was the Chruch of St. Augustine. It was orignally built in the 18th century, before Catholic Emancipation. Catholic churches built in this era were not allowed, by law, to have grand entrances facing the street. This was the chuch I decided to pray for my parents in, after Serena left. This was something I had to do by myself.
The facade of the Church is amazing. Bright white granite juts out of the dirty streets; no stained glass or steeple, but intricate stone work in the archways. At 8, when I went into the church, they were saying the Mass in Polish. Ireland has a large polisch community now, given how their economy is. Anyway, I thought that that was pretty neat in and of itself--I'm in Ireland, attending a Polish Mass. I realized, however, that I was not attending Mass but “Devotions.” I had no idea what that was. When the Devotions ended, I walked into the church looking for the Candles. Instead, I found a mass of plastic red candles and a sign. “Please insert your donation and press the candle that you wish to light.”
I almost cried.
See, I had this elaborate plan in mind. I found a 2 Euro piece minted in France. That was for my mom. The church was in Ireland--my father. I thought it would be touching. Instead, I pushed a button and “lit” a candle. My prayer was quite simply, “Oh christ, I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry dad.”
I went back to the B&B. There's a show I want to catch tonight and I have to rest up for it. Tomorrow is an early day, but I'll be damned if I don't catch a show in Cork.
Sorting Tags: Cork, grief, Ireland, Opinion, Travel
Cork: Day 8 (part 2 of 2)
I managed to find the Savoy Center, off to see “The Back Stage Sluts.” To see what I was in for, I looked in a few local music zines--I got the feeling it'd be all-girl indie rock band. I was pretty excited--I'd miss most of the acts that passed through Chicago over the past few months, and I figured I'd be all bleeding edge.
Bleeding edge is right. What I saw was two DJs spinning in different rooms. The Back Stage Sluts--maybe they were the dancers--all looked barely legal by UK standards. I finished my last beer in Ireland, and walked back to the B&B.
I will be working on a summary tomorrow; somewhere between Cork and Chicago, I'll type. I can say with confidence that, despite being 200 Euro OVER budget, that I got everything I needed from this trip, if not everything I wanted.
Next time, however, my brother comes with me.
Sorting Tags: Cork, Ireland, Opinion, Rant, Travel
Cork: Day 7 Serena's Last Full Day
Yesterday, Saturday, Serena and I took it easy. We explored the parts of Cork we liked and examined some parts of Cork we did not see. For the most part, it was a lazy day. We caught the tail end of the International Choral Festival. They were sining a show tune I did not recognize.
The coolest part of yesterday came with a return to the first pub we visited, The Bailey. There I met Lenny and I became a Barcelona fan--because Barce is a fucking proper football team.
I also learned that Morrissey and the Smiths are the best thing to happen to music in forever; current hip hop is shite but Run DMC is still golden.
Cheers.
Sorting Tags: Cork, Ireland, Travel
Cork: Day 7 Serena's Last Full Day
Yesterday, Saturday, Serena and I took it easy. We explored the parts of Cork we liked and examined some parts of Cork we did not see. For the most part, it was a lazy day. We caught the tail end of the International Choral Festival. They were sining a show tune I did not recognize.
The coolest part of yesterday came with a return to the first pub we visited, The Bailey. There I met Lenny and I became a Barcelona fan--because Barce is a fucking proper football team.
I also learned that Morrissey and the Smiths are the best thing to happen to music in forever; current hip hop is shite but Run DMC is still golden.
Cheers.
Cork: Day 6
I am trying to remember yesterday. Yesterday, we went to Blarney: Pictures to post when I get home. For the record, I did kiss the
Blarney Stone. It is virtually impossible to actually go into Blarney Castle and not actually kiss the damn thing. They have a cocerscion artist right at the stone who will ensure that of Course you want to kiss the damn thing.
Also, for the record, it is possible for locals to Pee on the damn thing too. That part didn't bug me nearly as much--because Serena went first.
The Blarney Woolen Mills has its own shop
here. The Mills shopping and the average tourism office are exactly what I had feared Ireland to be: Touristy to the point of meaninglessness. Blarney Mills, however, did have some fantastic sweaters...which, now that I have the address, I can buy when I have the money.
Speaking of stupid tourism shopping, I finished most of my gifts for people back home. I couldn't find a single long bow... Nor did I get everyone a gift. I splurged on two cousins, and that destroyed my budget. While I know that I don't necessarily owe people apologies, I feel like I do. I will make it up to them through trips, karma and other things I can think of.
I managed to do a lot of thinking yesterday, I'm still trying to write it all out.
This post is meaningless without pictures. Blarney had some amazing scenery. I took about 70 pics of it all. And yes, I did buy the pictures of me kissing the goddamn Blarney stone. Better to own the black-mail material than let it fall into a blackmailer's hands.
Sorting Tags: Ireland, Rant, Vacation
my friends call me nikkos: The Most Honest Online Dating Profile Of All Time.
my friends call me nikkos: The Most Honest Online Dating Profile Of All Time.:
“Liberal, cynical, commitment-phobic atheist looking for sex with hot women, possible relationship.”
My Blog buddy Nikkos sent this to me while I was in Cork; I had no other option other than to write it up.
I've hung out with Nikkos on two short occasions, however, I can fully endorse him as a witty, intelligent funny guy.
Cork: Day 5
I wrote this to day on a legal pad. I am transcribing it just before I go back to reading.So I am beginning this entry in an old-fashioned way: Pen and Paper. While I do have my laptop with me, I do not see the point in ruining the tranquility of this moment with my Mac. Also, it's bright and I doubt I could see the screen. All in all, this is a moment meant for writing, not necessarily typing.
I am not used to the sung being this bright or the air being this clean. While Chicago has plenty of green spaces, I do not think a single one will be as green as this park in Cork.
Despite the green, Cork feels a bit dirtier than Chicago. There are more empty beer bottles and cans, as well as cigarrette butts, scattered about the city. We found a yard that had a corner full of empty Bud cans and Corona bottles. When I saw this, I wanted to scream at the people responsible for it. Problem is, I had no idea who to yell at, and truth be told, it is not my place to yell. Still, I think someone just needs to stop and say, “Christ! Don't fucking ruin this place!” I know I get this way about Chicago too--but even back home, I do not yell.
It's funny, but I have been in Cork less than a week, but Today I really feel like I would like living here; not that “I could.” The weather wouldn't be too much of a change, but everything else would be a huge bit of culture shock. Besides, I'd probably have to speak functional Gaelic to work as a PO or whatever juvenile justice position they have here. If I had my Masters, this is a thought I could entertain; considering I have not touched my application in months, I think I should focus on the tasks at hand.
As it stands, I'll be in home in a few days. Following that, I'll have work and budgets and school plans and dating and family things and I'm-pretty-sure-you-get-the-idea I have a lot waiting for me back home. Some of this, however, will be dealt with on the way home. Specifically, I've started working on my apps to grad school again. I have an appointment on the 9th to fixe my finances. I can reach a plateau when those goals re finally accomplished.
As I'm finishing this , two things hit me:
Plateau's are all we can really accomplish. To think that there will not be any more valleys and peaks in one's life is naive and dangerous.
I was going to marry someone who could not appreciate spending an time in a park. The reason was simple--and telling--she would die if she left out in the sun too long. She suffered from a rare form of melanoma a few years prior....still, it does not take a very imaginative mind to link an aversion to sunlight, for whatever reason, to questionable characterAlso... because today was so spectacular and lazy, I have also decided to link the playlist that I made today. The second half is much better than the first have; but, it was the first half that was stuck in my head and started the whole use of the iPod. I would not be honest if I did not include it.
Tomorrow? Traditional Irish Music!
Sorting Tags: Ireland, Opinion, Rant, Vacation
The Rock
Cork, Day 5: Cashel
Cashel, the Rock of Kings, is a small town in Ireland that is everything I imagined Ireland would be. Cashel is a heritage site, and while Cork is about 400 years older, Cashel had the most impressive abbeys and ruins I have seen so far.
For people who have been to Greece, Italy or China, seeing something that was built in the 12th century may not be impressive. Just as an aside, before my trip to Ireland, I don't think i've been to a place that had not had european settlement earlier than the 16th century.
None of these places had Ravens. Giant, squawking, peck-your-eyes-out Ravens.
Cashel was the seat of the Munster kings. Cashel is a place that I thought about living in.
Sorting Tags: Ireland, Photo, Cashel, Travel, Vacation
Gleeson Pub
When I asked my dad, years ago, why we changed the name years ago, he said, "My Grandfather did it on purpose."
That's all I know. I figured I would find a few Gleeson references here and there; Gleeson being a far more common name than I originally thought. Still, it was a bit of a shock to see this at Cashel
And yes, there is version of this with me standing underneath sign.
Help?
Okay, last post before bed:
I want to do a flickr layout in blogger, but I am too tired and lazy to figure it out here. I know Jenny and Jess can do it. Someone send me word on how to do it and NOT make me feel like a tool?
kthanxbye
Sorting Tags: Flickr, Photo, puppy
It looks tasty....
But, in fact, this is Budweiser. Hence, it tastes like ass.
Sorting Tags: Beer, Photo, Rant
Cork: Day 4 1/2
Today we took it easy, given our sore feet and limited resources. A pint here, a pint there and a tour of various shops and markets--this time with an intent to buy souvenirs. I didn't find what I was looking for everyone, but, I did manage to figure out what to get for the majority of my family--
And no, we did not tour a brewery. That's thursday.
Tomorrow, after some advice from the incredibly brilliant
Allison, I am going to visit a part of Ireland that I have wanted to since I was in college. The problem is, I want to visit this place because of a work of fiction. I feel sort of silly for admitting this, but, not silly enough to actually filter my thoughts.
Now, I did do a little bit of work regarding the history--and historiography-- of Brian Boru, but no where near enough to justify a pilgrimage. At the same time, I am an hour and a half away, and I do not think my dad would be happy to know that I was an hour and a half away, and I did not visit the seat of power for one of our favorite Irish kings.
So, tomorrow, Serena and I take Cashel by storm. Pictures and stories to follow.
Sorting Tags: Cork, Ireland, Travel, Vacation
Cork: Day Four
Skip this self-indulgent crap and move on to Day 4.5. Seriously.
For whatever dumb-ass reason--jet lag, the drink, plain old Marty-styled forgetfulness--I thought my dad's birthday was TOMORROW, not today. By the the time I figured it out that, no, today was the 25, it was time for dinner. So, instead of lighting a candle and attending mass for my mom and dad, I had a bottle of wine (a white Chilean wine, “Trio” for you sommeliers out there) in honor of my dad.
After dinner, I managed to pass out, drunk, on the bed. Serena, my partner in Crime, also fell asleep. As much as I'd like to go out and about now, I cannot just leave her here, asleep. Yes, she is a big girl who can take care of herself, and yes, the door will lock behind me, BUT, if she wakes up and I am not here, she will worry like a Pristo girl (Pristo, being my mom's maiden name. My relatives, specifically my aunts and uncles, will understand. The rest of you should just nod in blind acceptance to this fact.).
This, however, was not the goal for the day. Indeed, the goal simply happened to be to acknowledge the family trip my family never got a chance to take and begin spoiling my godchildren. Instead, I came to a horrible, but inevitable, conclusion. A conclusion so annoying, self-indulgent and whiney that I do not want to even think about, let alone post it.
Which means, in this blogger run world, that I will write about it.
I have been beating myself up over my failed engagement for months. There is no denying it anymore. I have thought about it, dated people and “moved on” only to come to the conclusion that I am still dealing with crap. A number of people, especially people
I just met, will go “duh.” Personally, I simply do not want to deal with it anymore.
The key here is “deal with anymore.” Have I dealt with it?
The only answer is, “not entirely.”
I am not over the fact that someone so pretty was so petty. I am not over that she brought out the absolute worst in me when I tried to do everything to make her life better. I am not over the the fact that she was so pretty. That, of course, is the kicker. She was pretty--and when we boil things down to their essence, that is what remains. She man not have been as smart as I originally thought, and no where near as kind and generous as I had hoped, but she was very, very pretty.
I did not love her because she was pretty. Like my love for Ireland, I loved what I imagined, not the reality of it all. However, having been to Ireland, I can honestly say I love it more. As for her, once I realized what I was going on, I couldn't love her. I wanted to. I tried to see past her hurt, her previous life and forgive the anger that was directed my way... but I couldn't do it. I could have been her best friend and lover, but not her punching bag.
It took a trip to Ireland to admit this. The sad thing is, it is still easier to deal with this crap than with missing my mom and dad.
Sorting Tags: Ireland, whining, Travel, Vacation
Cork: Day 3
I am worried that
Justin may be right about Ireland. Justin, since I've known him, has teased me in regards to my fascination with all things Irish. Granted, I am a target for these types of comments; but Justin takes them and spins them into a wonderful tapestry of insult based comedy.
I am bringing this up because
Will has helped me remember some of Justin's ideas. Also, I do wish Will and Sara were here with me, as I miss them all the time. As much as I miss Will, however, I doubt I'll be able to bring back and old school long bow. I have a
godson and
goddaughter to spoil.
I am delaying my point, its just hard to admit this to the internet--I mean you, my dear reader.
So. Serena and i went to a pub--The Thirsty Scholar--because they advertised traditional Irish Music at 9. We go there at 9:30 and were greeted by the O.C. My cousin Jessie would have loved that. I, however, felt a rock in my stomach. I did not fly thousands of miles to watch shitty American TV. We decided to have a pint or two before moving on. Since I drink more than Serena, and I had a 50-Euro-Bil to break, I figured that I'd buy two Murphy's for me, one Bulmers for her. I bring the drinks, we talk and we are joined by a drunk irishman. Not a cliché, but an honest to god Drunk irishman who speaks in a mish-mash of slurred gaelic and english. All of it is difficult to interpret from the alcohol induced accent. This gent, about 50, with a boxers face and knuckles, wandered by. Being drunk, and less than graceful, he sat down (with our blessing). What followed next is hard to explain... He tried talking to us, but, as I introduced myself, “Marty, from Chicago” he asked me, “Who do you think you are.”
There are two phrases in the English language, not involving insults directed towards one's mother, that are used to pick fights. One of them is , “Who do you think you are.”
My response to our my new Drunk Nemesis--Martin something-- was, “I'm Marty, from Chicago. Have a drink on me.”
That did not help the situation in the slightest.
In my experience, given a drunk a drink tends to mollify the situation. Martin decided that 1) I should watch out because he was going to kill me 2) Serena needed to dump me and 3) Its a good thing I don't know how to box. First of all, I do not have the slightest clue as to what I did to deserve a beat down, let alone murder. Secondly, Serena and I have never, nor will we ever, date. Third.... Well, fine. I don't know how to box. Martin may have wanted to teach my by way of a beat down.... but I do not think it'd be fair to fight a man 30 years my senior.
Martin's drinking buddy came up and got the hostess. I, remaining level headed and calm, just blew the whole thing off. When he got up to leave, however, I was just as ready to defend myself as I am when I have an angry kid in an interview. The only time he was steady was when he was looking me in the face. The look was one I recognized from High School, “I am going to kick your ass.”
The first person in Ireland I
gavea drink wanted to kick my ass. This is a total let down. I did not go to Ireland expecting to be treated like the favored son. I expected some hostility just because of recent political development (seriously. More on the Black Shamrock's later). But I have diffused situations with hard core gang-bangers. I have managed to turn bad situations into fun, memorable ones (and on some of these occasions, I even kept my dignity). It is extremely disenchanting to be threatened by a drunk old man my 3rd night here.
When Martin left, we followed soon after. We went to the Courthouse Tavern, where I preceded to have 3 pints of Guinness. No one threatened to kick my ass, but, the damage had been done.
The rest of the day was fun. We took a bus tour of Cork. I bought some CDs that are hard to find Stateside. We saw the Cork City Gaol. Pictures were taken, tea was had. All in all, a typical vacation set. The ending of today, however, leaves much to be desired.
Tomorrow, however, is another day in Ireland. Right now, even being threatened by Cork's Surliest Bastard is more appealing than a day in Chicago.
Sorting Tags: BarFight, Boxing, Cork, Drunk, Ireland, Opinion, Travel
Cork: Day 2
Much, much better. Nearly 40 pictures taken with my phone and my camera. The day started at 9 or so with a shower. Serena and I had breakfast--I had an Irish Breakfast which is one tomato, 2 strips of bacon, 2 sausage patties and one egg--and ended with me nursing my feet.
The middle, of course, is fantastic. We walked for about 3 hour before we took our first break. Most of Cork was closed because it is Sunday. Sunday, of course, being the Lords Day means everything is closed until about sunday. Around one or so we had lunch. It was an Irish Chain--O'Brien's--but it was still tasty. There was a drunk at our O'Briens. Well dressed, very polite, but still quite drunk. We wandered lots more. First up a hill--there'll be pics when I get to a wifi point--then down the Hill. We--actually, just me--had more coffee. Then, to the first pub. The Bailey. Across the street from the Courthouse. Dinner at some other place, I actually forgot it's name. Then we had dessert at Corruns. This restaurant was made from the salvage of other buildings in Cork. It was here that I decided to try Budweiser, in Ireland, thinking that, “well, if they drink it here, it can't be that bad.”
They, who ever they are, are stupid. Budweiser, regardless of the country, is horrible, shitty beer. Worse than MGD Lite. Avoid it at all costs.
Following the bed, we made a brief stop at a web cafe--this was to check email the weather and a few other things. I, however, just chatted with people online and write an email or two.
Seriously. Walking for 3 hours straight, then another 3 hours on top of it can make anyone tired. Exhausted even.
Tomorrow involves more pictures and less walking.
Sorting Tags: Holiday, Ireland, Travel
Cork: Day 1
Quite simply: Got off the plane. Waited for Serena. had a steak dinner--good, but over priced. Passed out.
Sorting Tags: Holiday, Ireland, Travel
Ireland Day 1/2: 3 hours from Cork
I smell like a salad bar.
I dropped a piece of lettuce, complete with a lite vinnegrettte, onto my shirt. I thought I dropped it on my blanket....but no. It's On my shirt.
I have taken two pictures so far: One of the Loo one of the terminal. The other is the terminal
I'll figure out how to edit my blog to include pics later
Ireland: Day Zero
My trip to Ireland began with an ashtray.
When I was younger, and more prone to debilitating asthma attacks, I would have severe reactions to my meds. The most frequent reaction was a feeling of too much energy. Hyperactivity isn't the right description. I would feel like I had so much energy that it would bubble up through my skin, causing me to itch uncontrollably; My heart would pound so fast, I was afraid it would explode. My dad had a cure for it--he would carry me around the house and give me a tour.
Being prone to bad attacks, I had a lot of tours. I never got tired of having them ,and my dad never got tired of picking me up and giving me the tours of the house. One of my favorite stops was the Cherry would Chest of Drawers and Cabinet, that had been made when Abraham Lincoln was president, Its amazing to me that I can still hear my dad say those things to me, after all these years.
In any event, on the Chest there was an ashtray with our family crest on it. Now, I only go to see the family crest during the first few tours of the house--we put most of the ashtrays away when I was five because my parents banned smoking in the house because of my allergies. He would just point it out and say, “And this is our family crest.”
My dad explained the history of this ashtray a little later in my life. From what I remember, my dad bought the ashtray in New Orleans when he was with my mom--I think on their Honeymoon. This is a bit fuzzy to me, especially because I remember my grandma-Nanna-saying she was there when he bought it. I don't think Nanna went on my parent's honeymoon, so maybe it was just a vacation. Regardless, this is the item that I can point to--I still have the ashtray in my condo--that started this entire trip.
It was this ashtray that began my interest in my father's family. My mom's family was huge in comparison--my mom has 4 sisters--my dad was the only child of the only male in the family. In fact, my dad's dad--the guy I'm named after--is the only Gleason that had any kids. For an Irish family, by way of the South Side of Chicago, this is extremely unusual.
In another interesting twist, my dad was also supposed to be a priest. Now that's pretty funny.
For my dad's love of Ireland and all things Irish, he never went to Ireland. He could name all the counties and their capitals, and talk about how the “English fucked with the Irish,” but waited on actually going. He saved his trip to Ireland because he wanted “to take that trip with my boys.”
As it stands, I will be the first Gleason (in my family) to go to Ireland. Both of my parents had been to Europe before--my mom lived in France while in Grad school, my dad did a tour of the UK (but not Northern Ireland) while in the Civil Air Patrol, and they'd been to Paris and London while they were married--but he actively resisted going to Ireland until Tony and I could go. Its fucking bullshit that he never got to go, but I'm sure that point has been made frequently over the past 2 years.
The only word to describe what I'm feeling now is anticipation. I could be more specific and call it giddy anticipation. In a way, I feel like I'm back in my old house, hyped up on asthma meds waiting for my dad to come home and give me a tour. Instead, I'm going home, taking the tour my dad wanted to take with me.
Sorting Tags: Holiday, Ireland, puppy, Travel, Vacation
Requests!
I've had requests that I bring back:
Guinness
Whisky
Irish Women
Leperchaun
or
Visit
The Blarney Stone
Family Castles
If you, dear reader, want anything, leave a comment.
Except Chuck. No vegas, no gifts.
Apple said to be planning 17-in MacBook Pro for NAB launch - Engadget
Apple said to be planning 17-in MacBook Pro for NAB launch - Engadget:
Apple said to be planning 17-in MacBook Pro for NAB launch
Posted Apr 19th 2006 12:42PM by Marc Perton
Filed under: Laptops
If you've been hankering for one of Apple's $2,500, 17-inch G4 PowerBooks, you may just want to put your wallet away for a little while. According to AppleInsider, the company is due to roll out a 17-inch version of the Core Duo-powered MacBook Pro at the National Association of Broadcasters conference next week. I do not need, nor can I afford, this machine that Engadget is talking about. I don't care. I want it. Why? I'm a geek and an apple whore.
BUT! I am resisting-how? Easily. I am flat fucking broke, and I'd rather to to weddings and baby-showers than get another laptop.
I've been hit
Seriously. I am now in full, “Ireland, T-Minus 2 Days” and counting mode. I had hoped I would be able to be disciplined enough to concentrate on work and just clear off my desk. That is no longer happening. I am taking a break for the Ireland searches --what's the weather going to be like? Any festivals/shows? --just to announce that, as of this moment, Ireland is taking up an inordinate amount of brain power.
I know that this trip is more than just a vacation. There is a lot I need to do here--all in the spirit or relaxation--and I am trying to figure out the best way to do all of it.
I am bringing my camera and my laptop. Just in case, I'm also bringing my iSight. My iPod, of course, is already to go. I have noise reducing head phones (cheap ones) and old fashioned ear-buds for any occasion. I keep thinking about getting a portable audio recorder and a gps handset, just to help 'document' my trip. In other-words, they sound like neat toys to have; however, I do not need them. Nor do I need to spend $300 here that I could spend in Ireland.
A total of $100 for both would be doable.
Anyway...
T-Minus 2 days.
Cyclical, not Temporary
A key technique for staying calm during an argument. Article.:
Would you like to experience less conflict?
Would you like to feel calmer during conflicts? Would you like to resolve them easier? Here's how: Remember whatever is happening is temporary. There are several reasons this principle is so important.This article caught my eye; especially today, while I'm tying up all the loose ends for my trip--more on that later. I took a quick break to look into it, and i have to say this article does not work for me. For most minor things--arguments, most minor stresses--this little mantra may work. But I'm not sure the author takes into account the cyclical nature of things.
Its been my experience that the most aggravating of circumstances and arguments will not be helped by saying “this too shall pass,” because my brain is already thing, “Why is this happening AGAIN?” The same referrals, the same cases, the same problems. “This too shall pass” just doesn't cut it when you've tried a number of different ways to solve the same damn problem.
I am very well acquainted with the notion that life is just to short to be stressed out. That has not helped my stress at all. In fact, I think it's made it all worse. If i keep saying “This too shall pass,” I'll end up saying, “When?”
This, as a mantra, is useless to me.
Sorting Tags: Health, Opinion, Rant
Stupid and Cowardly
So, around 8:40 pm, CST, I got a comment--it reads:
you're a moron
shells kirby
Apparently, this person found my blog by doing a Technorati search of Right Wing Wackos--and s/he finds my post about
Anna Coulter.You, sir or madame, are by far the most intelligent, and witty, person on the internet. I am honored that you would post such eloquent words on my humble blog, and direct me to
this site as well. I am, to put it briefly, in complete awe.
your ip was: 74.64.19.100
You said three simple words, but you've made a big impression on my bleeding liberal heart.
Marty and Eli
Okay. I need more pictures of Eli. How can you not want to see more pictures of this kid, huh?
Sydney Adeline Christensen
This is my god daughter
(baby, newborn, godchild)
“Sydney Adeline Christensen” by officergleason
This, as her mom likes to point out, is her “Gang Sign Glamour Shot.” And no, I did not teach her that.
Sorting Tags: Baby, Family, Photo
Babies
Press releasePrivateer Press - creators of the Iron Kingdoms and Warmachine:
Showing great dedication to furthering new product lines, our own Production Manager Mark Christensen and his wife Jessica have demonstrated that pirates can and will reproduce. The very first Privateer Press baby was born on Friday, April 7th: Sydney Adeline Height/Weight: 18.5 inches/6 pounds 8 ounces Armament: Two Open Fists, Wail (special action) Fuel Load/Burn Usage: In testing Initial Service Date: 04/07/06 Cortex Manufacturer: Christensen Scrapyards Chassis Design: Top Secret Attributes: TBA Faction: Mercenary
We need more pictures of the entire family. I now have another reason to visit Seattle.
But, I have a few reasons to stay in chicago as well: one of them being my
godson, Eli.
9 days
I am leaving in 9 days, and I cannot get
this out of my head. Mash ups: I think they take up more than the average song in a person's neural network.
the more I think about Ireland, the more excited I get. I figure if i stay grounded, I will be able to put of the whole, “HOLY CRAP!” aspect of this trip....and the “I miss my dad” aspect.
And my mom.
Other than that....
There is something else on my mind. My buddy Chris has the most terrible case imaginable. She has a client who has never had a real home, is suffering from major clinical depression and he's been charged with Aggravated Criminal Sexual Assault for a consensual sex act (the partner, 13, was a boy). Why has he been charged with ACSA? Because he has HIV (he was born with it); as of this writing, it has progressed to full on AIDS. The partner is in the clear--both HIV tests indicate he did not get infected. The entire event is sad and terrifying. This so-called offender is dying, and the State wants him to die in Prison.
I just do not see the point of having a kid, 15, who has never had a home to call his own, die without a shred of dignity.
Sorting Tags: Health, Juvenile Justice, Probation
10 days
10 days until Ireland
This was the trip that was going to be “The Family Vacation.” My dad was going to have his bone marrow transplant, and then we (either Tony and me, or Tony, Mom and I) were going to go to celebrate. I have learned that life does not follow plans.
Hell, if life was following plans right now, i'd be waist deep in wedding plans.
Anyway, I booked this trip on a whim. Tony couldn't make it since he is waist deep in wedding plans and grad school. I put out an email--and I got one person who is going with me. Serena, who for all intents and purposes was adopted by my family during out stint at Beloit, will be going with. In fact, if it wasn't for her, I'd probably get to Ireland and say, “this is awesome. Now, where do I sleep?”
I have been given no end of ideas for this trip. I've been told to , “Bike around Dublin!” to, “Steal posters and signs.” Please. I don't want a plan. All that is set is this:
1) I toast my grandfather the day I leave.
2) on April 25, I'm going to be in a pub pretty much all day. Stand my 'round and all that. This is in memory of my dad.
I don't know what I am going to learn while I'm there. I know I'm going to visit churches, graveyards and pubs. My idea of Ireland--this overly romanticized idea--is going to be shattered. This is probably a very good thing. Still..
I need the change. I need the vacation. I need to spend time with Serena and think about my dad and my mom.
the other really cool thing about this vacation is simply this: I am forcing myself to tie up all my loose ends at work. Clean up. organize. get my shit together. Its very neat.
More thoughts later; now I am have to write something for metblog
New Obession
I know this is old, but, I have just rediscovered my love for remixes and mash ups. This site,
Mashr, is feeding this addiction. The best thing about it? TAGS. Metadata to help organize it. Goddamn, its smoove.
Sorting Tags: mashup, mp3, Music, obession
Signs of the times
Click here for
comedy GoldSorting Tags: Comedy, Terrorism
Broken Ecto
Ecto still looks broken. Too bad.
Quick update then:
1) bike rides fix all ills, even if they provoke mild asthma reactions
2) Insurance companies suck
3) Ireland, t-minus 17
And, specifically to
Chuck You lose all moral authority to call me a slacker considering how long it took you to mail Mark and Jess their wedding present. Considering that your moral authority is already at a loss given your use of roller-blades and plexi-glass boomerangs, you're at negative authority.
Test
Gots some blogger problems with ecto. This will take far, far too much time to fix now, and I am far too tired to even start.
I am leaving las vegas.
later
marty
