lord kobber von fleischer, brainshire king.

i talked to brain on the phone yesterday around 3pm, right as both of us were about to head off into yet another round of restaurant-industry-standard holiday madness... it's the sort of thing where you'd almost rather be poked in the eye with a sharp stick than get in the shower to start the preparations for the night ahead. it's far worse for him, however, as southerners are exponetially easier to deal with on a server/served level than those wretched long islanders.

anyhow, brain was telling me how he hasn't had enough sleep lately, due to insomnia and all manner of other distractions from blessed unconciousness... "i haven't slept in like, forty-eight hours," he said. "and i don't know if it's the lack of sleep or what, but suddenly i can hear what's going on in my head a lot better... that's some scary shit up there."

and once again, brain summarized perfectly the state in which i presently exist. so far i have taken to martinis as a mute button...it's been working and they're pretty delicious to boot.

watched a great film, a documentary on those who ride the rails around the country, given to me by a new co-worker of mine who has spent some time doing just that. "who is bozo texino?" gorgeous film work, gritty b&w with really lovely audio.

been re-reading martin amis' memoir experience mainly because i thoroughly enjoy it, and also because there is something to be said for the instruction one can glean from reading another's musings on their own past and present, especially if that person is martin amis.

i am afraid of the dichotomy between what my brain wants and what i am physically and emotionally capable of.

happy new year.

and you may ask yourself, how did i get here?

just in case it was starting to seem as if i had up and left, let me assert the notion that i am in fact still here. alive and kicking. i've been feeling as if i have no words for what has been going on in my head lately, but that isn't true. i am intimidated by the idea of trying to give words to what has been going on in there lately, but that is obviously not the same as not having the words to give. add to that the pace at which i have been living and you have one big ol' excuse to pretend that this isn't happening. but it is, and i suppose i will eventually come around to expressing it.

let's just hope i haven't had any whiskey when that happens.

actually, for the good of everyone and everything, let's hope i never have any whiskey.

regardless, the holiday which just passed was unexpectedly wonderful; relaxed, filled with good food and drink, and spent in my warm house with people who make the idea of suspending the animation of those moments seem like a very wise idea.

now reality returns, at least for the time being. i find myself mildly frightened, altogether enchanted and not at all sure what is happening. there, that's a start.

twenty nine years and nothin' but failures, and promises that i couldn't keep...

first of all, i must submit this:

tonight, as dt took his break, i took over the bar. and dick carlton said the following:

"i think it was a good move, when i rediscovered scotch."

i immediately jumped off the beer cooler, on which i had been sitting cross-legged, and wrote that shit down. good, good stuff, that.

good lord. i don't know where the fuck i am right now...all i have is this craziness, which makes my stomach jump in the most extraordinary way, and a whole bunch of madness, which is all coming to a head in the next few weeks. and i am in it, and i love it, and i just don't know, what to do, with myself...

my sister alison turned 14 on friday. when my sister alison was born, i was 15. and the other night, i realized that and it freaked me the fuck out. i'm not going to make that any more eloquent. i remember, quite vividly, the night/morning that she was born(at3:19? i believe...) and that night seems quite tangible to me now, but that was so long ago that i was HER AGE give or take a year...

i know, it's the fucking circle of life, or some shit...elton john wrote a ridiculous disney song about it. perhaps it's the fact that alison and i are clones of each other(apparently my family repeats itself every fifth person), but it still freaks me out.

this is not a post about feeling old, so get that out yo head right now. this is about my life. and my life is pretty fucking amazing. it's a thing of beauty, really. all things as they are. always.

love to my sister/me... single protein, all the way.

universal truth. if it were my universe.

you can call me white trash, call me what you will, but...kraft mac and cheese just isn't any good without ketchup.

killa (continues to) eat it.

i can't tell you how much i would love to post something right now, something of actual substance...however, i can't concentrate on this or anything for more than about a minute without having to break away and deal with my crazy dog, who won't freakin' stop right now. case in point: i went to the bathroom before and was behind a closed door for approximately thirty seconds. when i returned, killa had ripped all the stuffing out of trey's couch...FOR THE SECOND TIME. fuck, maybe it's like the fourth or fifth time. i don't know. either way, this is easily the most frustrating dynamic i have ever been a part of. i can honestly say i don't know what to do. this is why i don't have children.

all right...so let's jot some things down in the minute intervals between killa's next act of defiance, shall we? monday was snow day, our first of the year, and i must say that charles and i engineered one of the best snow days i think anyone can hope to have. my scrabble loss aside, it was pretty bad ass. for the record, i was winning until his last move, when he put a word on the board that netted him something like 75 points. or maybe it was 42. either way, late game heroics get me every time.

killa? do you want to try and destroy something? now's your chance...no? ok. moving on.

for christmas this year, my family and all significant others are gonna draw names, which saves my broke ass a ton of anxiety. i have a hard time understanding how it is that i can be as poor as i am when i seem to spend just about every waking hour at work, and i don't have any major drains on my income. for someone who has had to rock the bus every day for the past year, i don't get how i can still be drowning in fiscal despair. it sucks, although i am sure it could suck a lot worse. perpetual optimism.

killa? no? awesome. i think the couch extravaganza tuckered the old girl out.

i'm going to take this opportunity of killa downtime and try and get ready for work.

i've spent the day in the newsroom, can you tell?

remember when i wrote on election day about outgoing richmond sheriff michelle mitchell's crazy eye when she found out that she had lost? well, today she outright refused to let the sheriff-elect into richmond city jail, and released a statement saying that she would not do so until january, when she officially gets the boot. by monday she'll probably have sealed the premises and dug a moat, and good lord i hope one of our interns will be around to cover it. this is one of the many reasons i love richmond...it's all chaos, all the time.

in addition, i actually received an email from the richmond police department today with the subject line "party patrol". now, that's really funny for a lot of reasons, one of which is because a radio station in new york, the detestable z-100, calls its street team the party patrol, but also because of the following: in the email, i learned that the rpd would now be cracking down on errant vcu students (and those unfortunate thirtysomethings who think they are still vcu students) in the fan who disrupt the quality of life with their raging bacchanals.

i'll tell you what disrupts my quality of life here in the fan...the constant crack deals that go down practically in my backyard. they're kind of a nuisance. not to mention the extremely inebriated lexus-driving douchebags that somehow manage to find their cars at 2am after leaving the sidewalk-starlight-etc.etc. and proceed to take off at high speed into the night when they can barely even remember their girlfriends name, let alone operate a piece of heavy machinery.

now, i realize that none of the people who will be targeted by the partay patrol will likely be armed, and the only thing they will be trying to protect is their keg and perhaps whatever beer they have left in the fridge, not to mention their gravity bong. their stash of highly addictive illegal substances and their 70 thousand dollar car will not be an issue, nor will the fact that they are a fucking LAWYER and will TOTALLY OWN YOUR ASS, you FUCKING PIG. do you know who my FATHER is??? but i still think this whole party patrol is a waste of taxpayer money.