Posts Tagged ‘personal’

Just a quick update…

November 6, 2011

Like Sabra said, I got a new job. More details later, but suffice it to say it’s a major, major improvement over the previous gig — as in, almost double the money I was making. I told my mother yesterday that everything’s coming up roses — which is only appropriate, because God knows those roses were fertilized with a ton of shit!

More later. For now it’s off to the Longhorn Cafe…

What I’d like to say to a certain person…

August 20, 2011

…as my stomach still writhes…

“I know you don’t really give a damn about me or Sabra. Which doesn’t matter, honestly, because you’re just a speck in my universe anyway, the overstuffed sack of FAIL that appears on the doorstep every weekend to take the kids to visit for a few hours. But at least give enough of a shit about your kids to keep your plague-ridden girlfriend away from them when she’s sick. Two of them were sick last week, and in addition to me, they passed it on to the baby, you asshole. And now that I think about it, giving a shit about the kids could very well include you not giving them shit they could pass on to me that could make me sick enough to cut hours from my work schedule that I could barely fucking afford. Considering I play such a major role in keeping a roof over their head it’s the least you could do.

“Oh, and while I’m at it, take some of that money you spend on the aforementioned plague-ridden girlfriend and fucking feed those kids more than Ramen noodles on Sundays, you git.”

So, about that earlier entry…

July 17, 2011

You might have wondered what the hell I was doing up for 24 hours straight earlier. Well, gather ’round, friends and neighbors…

I had to be up earrrly yesterday morning because I worked the morning shift — after working the evening shift the night before. Got off work at 2300 hours & had to be back at work at 0700 the next morning. Fun stuff, especially after I got about 5 1/2 hours of sleep. I figured, no sweat, I’ll make it up that night, eh? Well, fate had other plans.

I did pretty well most of the day; I was even good for lunch after work, as I got home about 1630 or so and the kids got back from their dad’s about 1800. (The patty melt-ish sandwich at Whataburger is the bomb-diggety-shiz-nit, yo. I highly recommend it.) The evening progressed normally, and we went to bed in the early hours of the morning as we normally do.

However. Marie had been running a fever the last couple of days, which we’d been fighting with infant ibuprofen, and it had seemed to be abating. As the night went on, she got to be quite het-up — and absolutely inconsolable. We got her calmed down to a point, but as she was sleeping we noticed she was shaking even after Sabra moved her out of the path of the air conditioner. Sabra got up and looked up teh symptoms Marie was experiencing, and it looked as if she had had herself a febrile seizure. So just before 0300, we racked the kids out of bed, took ’em to Sabra’s mother’s house and ferried Marie to the Baptist Hospital downtown. After a bit of prodding & poking, x-rays & urine tests, it was determined that Marie had come down with a urinary tract infection. I will note that by the time we got to the hospital, about an hour after we got the kids up, Marie was her usual bubbly self, which made it a lot less worrisome. And she didn’t really waver from that except when they took her temperature and X-rays (she didn’t like to be laid down) and when they gave her a shot of antibiotics. She’s now sitting on her Mama’s lap happy as a clam and everything’s good.

So we left, got the kids & came back home, getting back to the house a little bit before 0700 this morning. I posted, shut my computer down & went to sleep. I did remarkably well for being up so long, though I am still in a bit of a fog. Damn sunlight. I don’t know how the overnight shift workers do it, though I suspect it involves vast & copious amounts of opaque materials on their windows…

Sometimes the threats are closer to home…

June 26, 2011

…as in, right on the gorramed front porch.

First, a bit of background. We live in a duplex. And our neighbors — or rather, their adult children — like loud shit music. Loud enough to keep the kids up after their bedtime. We would ask them to turn it down and they usually would, but they’d be right back at it the next night. We finally talked to the landlord and he left them a letter, the exact contents of which I don’t know. I’m thinking it was something pretty drastic, as in threatening to throw them out…

…because tonight, as I was leaving to get ice for my Mexican Coke, I heard the patriarch of the family yell at me, “Imma TALK to you when you get back, boy! You got yo’ winda down, I know you can hear me!”

I thought, oh, no, you’re not, homes. I went looking for the back way in so I could maybe park the truck on the next street over, sneak in through that alleyway into the back door and get the .45. (Why yes, stupid me left it again. Not gonna do THAT again, nuh-uh.) I didn’t find that alleyway, but I did find a friendly San Antonio police officer finishing up on another call to follow me home and watch me go in the house. I made sure to give her the above background.

Before I went in the house, though, she talked to the neighbors, who, including the aforementioned patriarch with a ‘tude, were all still out on the front porch. And of course to a person they denied that anything was said. Such lovely people.

Did that man have a gun? A knife? Hell, what could he have done to me with his damn fists if he’d gotten close enough? He may be a middle-aged man, but I’m a gimp. What was I supposed to do?

Molly Ivins would’ve told me to get a dog. The Coalition to Stop Gun Violence would have told me I was asking for trouble being out that late. Yeah, anti-gunners are fucking evil incarnate.

Good deeds & good feelings.

June 24, 2011

So as most folks who read the gun blogs know, Borepatch is splitting time between Atlanta and Austin lately, and last Sunday, Sabra and I met up with him in New Braunfels. I told him that ever since he told me he was coming this way, we were gonna HAVE to meet up at one point. So we did, and a good time was had by all.

I was sort of taken aback when I read this on his blog after we got back, though — in a good way. I guess I didn’t think about how much his being away from his family on that day had affected him, and to be a part of his reflections on that day touched me and made me feel pretty good. I had just thought of it as taking the opportunity to make a new friend. Such is the perspective, I suppose, of one who has not experienced what he has. (I will say, Borepatch, that I know what you felt when it came to your grandfather. I was very close to mine, too, on my mother’s side. I was lucky to have him around for a little more than 17 years of my life, though, as the line from the Vince Gill song goes, the pain of losing him cuts like a Randall knife.) And then this made me grin even bigger. Yeah, Miss Marie’s something else. 😉

Anyway, I guess I said all that to say this: I’m glad our companionship was such a gift to you, Borepatch. It was our honor and privilege to give it to you. You’re a good guy, and we’re proud to call you our friend.

Good food and a new friend…

June 19, 2011

…what more could you ask for, on a sunny Sunday afternoon?

So I told Sabra last week what I had in mind for Father’s Day — New Braunfels, Cooper’s Old-Time Pit Barbecue, and Lone Star Music. Those of you who read Borepatch know that he’s in Austin right now, and so I asked him earlier this week if he’d like to meet us at Cooper’s for some good barbecue. He’d eaten it not long before at this little Central Texas chain called Rudy’s. My lovely bride told him in comments here, “You need to get it from a real BBQ joint, not someplace attached to a gas station.”

I didn’t remind Borepatch of that, but I’m sure that if I had he’d still have been more than amenable to it. 😉 At any rate, he and I talked this morning, confirmed we were still on, and Sabra, the baby and I headed north on IH-35. We pulled in about five minutes after he did, and strangely enough, I parked right beside a Jeep with several subversive bumper stickers on it, among them stickers with the slogan “(Marine Corps logo) When It Absolutely, Positively Has To Be Destroyed Overnight,” and “Save Darfur. Send Rifles.” I remarked on that to Sabra, and she said, “That’s probably his Jeep.”

Apparently I missed the Georgia plate.

Anyway, we got out, shook hands and headed in. Over the next 2 1/2 hours, over brisket, smoked sausage and Shiner Bock, we talked about, well, pretty much everything we talk about on our blogs. He’s as cool in person as he is on his blog. Just an example: We were talking about church services and incense, and he said something to the effect that, “It’d be neat if they could get blackpowder to smell like incense. That’d be a real ‘praise the Lord and pass the ammunition’ kind of thing.”

Heh. Indeed it would. And with that, I am starting a new “Bloggers I’ve Met” category. I hope to be adding to it soon. (SpeakerTweaker, Dave, are you listening?)

I remember…

June 3, 2011

You might be wondering why I sat on the review of that Iron Maiden cd for so long. Well…It was a year ago today that I bought it. You know how I remember that? Well…

I remember stopping at the Best Buy in Katy and buying it, as I was driving from the Golden Triangle to San Antonio. But this trip was different than all the ones before, for it was to be my last. I remember barreling down Interstate 10 in the driving rain west of town, driving as fast as I could safely handle my truck and still getting my ass ridden and passed by people like I was standing still. I remember as I made my exit off I-10 and made my way up that east San Antonio street I’d driven so many times in the six months before it, it seemed like I was going in slow motion, and I remember thinking that there should’ve been a ticker-tape parade because I was coming home for good.

What a beautiful year it’s been.

The airing of the dirty laundry…

April 21, 2011

…or, It’s just too bad you can’t divorce certain members of your family.

(Intensely personal stuff beyond the break) (more…)

It’s amazing how good things happen sometimes.

March 25, 2011

So the landlord swung by to get part of the rent day before yesterday, and I was shooting the breeze with him. He had previously mentioned getting his law license renewed, and I asked him if he was going to open up a practice, and what he was going to do. He said he was just going to take some cases on the side, basically for fun money, I guess. He mentioned that he taught at San Antonio College in addition to managing however many properties he owns.

I don’t know why, but I was rather surprised at this. And I ran with it. This is how that conversation went, to the best of my recollection. “Wow, that’s cool. I have a degree and thought about going back to get MY teaching certificate.” (for K-12 — ed.)

“Really? What do you have a degree in?”

“Communication. I had a journalism job for a while.”

“Really? I got a journalism degree. Have you looked into anything around here? You oughta freelance, man, this is like freelance central. ”

He mentioned that there were places I could freelance that paid pretty well, as in $150 per story, and that he’d get back with me and give me some phone numbers and such. I thought I might have to initiate the follow-up contact, because I knew he was a pretty busy guy. Weeeelll…

Yesterday at lunch, when I was merrily blasting Iron Maiden and playing Tetris on the iPod, the phone rang. Oh, hey, it’s the landlord. I picked it up and we picked up where we left off.

Landlord: “I went home and told my wife, ‘I was floored. It was like I was talking to myself.’….You could be doing a lot more to support that family of yours. I just think you need some guidance. I think we ran into each other for a reason.”

Me, thinking: Wow, this is just too damn cool.

Anyway, the upshot of all of the above is: Landlord told me to get my transcript, writing & design samples together, and we’d have a cup o’ joe next week and he’d look over ’em and point me somewhere.

Yeah, I am on Cloud Fucking Nine. 😉

Amazing what comes of a simple question…

March 17, 2011

…like this one:

…why are we not Facebook friends?

Why, indeed…

A little more than a day after that, we did become Facebook friends.

25 days after that, we confessed our love to each other.

In another 11 days, we found ourselves in each other’s arms in Columbus.

Five months and two days after that, we slipped rings on each other’s fingers on the banks of the Colorado River just outside of Columbus, where we spent our first days together. That was a year ago today, incidentally…

Happy anniversary, darling Sabra. I love you even more now than I did back then, if that is even possible. I look forward to many more years with you, honey.