US Open Cycling in RVA!!

Woo hoo! What a ball, I loved every minute of it. Here are a few pics and several of my admittedly amateur videos on the sidebar. Love, Leemur

What's My Problem?

Good question! What tha hell, have I been trapped in another world, under something heavy, where there are no phones, no postal carriers, no passenger pidgeons, no internets or emails? Maybe, probably, most likely. Yes. Or maybe I have just been lost in a really long alley.

I'm 40, So Now What?

Do I feel any different? Maybe, maybe not.
Earlier today something I was mulling over made me think about "Jerry McGuire" and I then thought that perhaps I have no Mission Statement to speak of...I have no floor plan, no blueprints, no templates, no tracing paper, no time machine, no retirement plan. I do have Olay Regenerist and some Revlon nighttime eye wrinkle miracle stuff. Once upon a time I figured I'd worry about all that stuff later and now I'm standing in the doorway of Later and I think someone's about to kick me in the ass if I don't get out of the way.

Tomorrow I Will Be 40

Holy shit, I was just 23...so it seems. And what am I about to have for late dinner before turning in? A whopping bowl of Fruity Pebbles. Yeah! That's right. Fruity Pebbles.
This past Friday we went up to DC to hear the ever lovely Susan Graham sing at the Kennedy Center. We had made great time but then got caught up in traffic and whatnot and I ended up dressing and applying light makeup in the garage of aforementioned Kennedy Center.
So there, possibly, is my life in a nutshell of sorts : childish absurdity mixed with a fervent grasp for beauty.
She was great. I'd like to be her personal chef. And best best friend.

spam spam spam spam, i'll have the cheese danish then

Much like everyone else, I receive unsolicited emails or "spam". Perhaps you've heard of it. I like to call them 'spams', as in "Oh my God, you wouldn't believe all the spams I got today while I was out walking the dog!" Okay, seriously. However, I have to admit that some of the subject lines catch my eye and make me chuckle. I've now gotten into a habit of jotting down some of the funnier ones. Since I have a piece of paper neary filled with them, I thought I would create a sort of poem, if you will. I'm sure other people have done this, but I don't care since I feel superior to those people. I'm certain mine will be better. I was briefly celebrated in college for my witty collection of poems about maggots...

Urgent Info
Pennies on the Dollar,*&&%
I Need A Rolex Leo.
Of no Glow.
Freeload.
$100 Free Now!
to butterfield by pram.
suffix.
of no glow.
Go To Chicago and be A Part of Oprah's Live Talk Show!
In he audiovisual%^&
as to Implacable
He midmorn no recipe.
The equalateral is Sardonic
Civilisation Wear
her congestion as triumphant.
WONDERCUM!!
suffix
Find someone to Sleep With tonite.
hey, is this you?

----Love, Leemur

Don't Fool With..

I had the Weather Channel on earlier to get the details for the day and one of the anchors? meteorologists? weather spokesmodels? chickies? was speaking about something or another and said "...you know the saying 'don't fool with Mother Nature...' " and I looked up from tying my shoes as I realised that that is less of a saying and more of an advertising slogan. Oh wait, wait, it was an advertising slogan. I find it both entertaining and creepy that advertising can so permeate things. Have it your way.

It's Saturday

So it's Saturday. I fell asleep on the couch with the dogs last night. Or they fell asleep on the couch with me, I'm not sure which. I guess it doesn't matter. Woke up and got up at 5:00 and stumbled into the bedroom and crawled into bed. Dogs followed suit of course. Got up again at 9:30. Walked dogs, it's a lovely day out. Steve (boy beagle) was especially wiggly and happy. He never fails to make me laugh and cheer up a little, he's a complete goofball.

Had breakfast in the living room in the sunshine and quasi-planned my day. E should be back from OK at some point, either about 4am or later. So of course house cleaning is in order. Oh, I should be careful, she reads this too.

Well, New Years Day will be one year since Bryan, Kathy, Stella and Ruby were murdered. It's kind of hard to believe it's been a year, I guess because it still seems so fresh, because I think about them every day and I still have this tiny, tiny hope that they will appear, together and happy, greeting us all. It still brings me to tears. I've never cried so much and so hard in my life as I have this year. I can't imagine that I ever will. My heart is still completely broken and I think it always will be. I was at friends for Christmas and her daughter said "whenever I talk about the Harveys, Mommy starts crying.." She does her best to comfort Mommy. Of course when she said that, tears began rolling down my face, almost involutarily, and she said "You're crying too." I gave them my love and got in my car and sobbed against the steering wheel and then all the way home. I felt like a wounded animal, I howled. This pain is still just as strong. I am thankful for all the blessings and love in my life, I know I am lucky in so many ways, I know this has changed me forever . I will always remember every thing about them, every moment I shared with Kathy, the smile that always appeared on her face when I saw her, her laugh, her style, everything, and I will always feel this wind blow through the hole in my heart.

what i am today, other days

I am: smart, stupid, hard-working, lazy, kind, generous, snarky, mean, resentful, self-pitying, angry, lachrymose, selfish, shallow, ignorant, self-absorbed, sad, depressed, pissy, whiny, intolerant, irresponsible, loser-ish, dependable, not dependable, thoughtless, shiftless, unaccountable, melancholy, irritable, talented, slothful, unrealised, unprepared, inexcusable, forgivable, unforgivable, stubborn, block-headed, rueful, unquiet

MTB

Yesterday we drove to Petersburg to the P'burg National Battlefield Park or "nps.gov/pete" on the world wide web. That amuses me, the "pete" part. I'm easy. Anyway, lots of trails, nothing really challenging but great scenery and the land, I can't help but feel, is permeated with spirit.

Leemur Chops!

Allen Concedes, I Am Scared of Nancy Pelosi

Okay, I praise George Allen for stepping up and giving it up--he's correct, it's the right thing to do, to save everyone's time and money and so forth. Nice work cowboy.

Basically, I'm just scared of Nancy Pelosi as a person.

Virginia Elections

So as I write at this moment, Webb is ahead but Allen hasn't backed down. I voted for Webb. I'm not in love with him by any means, but I hope for his victory. I am chagrined, but I suppose not surprised, by the easy passage of Amendment 1. What a waste of time, money, resources, headaches, and breath. I only wish that those who so fervently believed in the need for our state constitution to be amended in such a way would use some of their time and resources and energy to do something actually useful, something that would really be life and Christ affirming, like teaching children and adults to read, working with Habitat for Humanity and other such organisations, getting food and clothing to those who need it most, spending some time listening to the elderly who are alone, the sick who have no one, buying books and art supplies for kids who long for those things but have no access to them. Wouldn't that be a blessing to and from God?

Life or Death

I'm still at work. The jury is still at work also. I know this because of the Times Dispatch trial blog. It's been updated throughout the day every day of the trial. I keep coming back over to the computer and refreshing that page, waiting to see if Ricky Gray will live or die. It's very weird...I click on the refresh button and then have a few seconds to try and prepare, guess, hope, before the page reappears. Still the same--they came out and asked some questions and went back in. Why isn't it quick like the guilty verdict?! What is there to hash out?! I wonder who the 12 are and wish I could whisper in the ears of whomever may be thinking about a life sentence : take his life, take his life away for those of us who can't. He didn't just take the lives of Bryan, Kathryn, Stella and Ruby, he took pieces of all of us, he stabbed us all in the heart. I don't want him to breathe the same air as I do, I don't want him to ever feel the rain, hear the thunder, see the lightening, see the moon or stars, the sun shine, the taste of water to pass his lips. He has no rights. He has nothing inside. He and the other monster have robbed all of us.

A Sampling of Thoughts That Run Thru My Mind During the Day

Another day, another dollar... I wish I'd stop humming The Girl From Ipanema... What should we do this weekend...How will I ever pay off all my debts...I wish she would just shut up for a while...I'm hungry but there's nothing to eat here...I wonder how my mother is doing, I'm too much of a little pussy to find out...I'm scared...if you're allergic to peanuts, you should ask if something has peanuts in it before you shove it in your piehole...God, I love zip loc bags!...why are people so stupid sometimes...what would I be doing if I were at home right now instead of at work...ow, I bit the inside of my cheek, I hate that...why am I so stupid sometimes...why are my friends dead...why did those two monsters do what they did...I would like to execute them myself...I think I could live with that, easily...next week is gonna be hard, I don't know how to be prepared. I wish I could build a protective coating over my heart and my brain...I shouldn't have eaten that cereal for breakfast...I feel sick...I don't know where I fall in the world...why are there people who want to blow up jet airplanes...I want to teach you a lesson...she shouldn't have had that baby if she wanted to continue to live like a single drunky girl...how many kids get no love...I love the beagles...I love my friends...I wish I could put my arms around all of them...

Snakes in the Trees at the Richmond Vegetarian Festival!!

E and I decided late in the afternoon to take a jaunt over to the Azalea Gardens and see what the Veggiefest was all about as neither of us had been before. We parked on Bellevue and walked from there, making our way thru the greenery, following the sound of music. A band played on a nifty stage with rows of folding chairs in front of it, children were running about, leashed dogs panted, strained and sniffed, and we began to explore. As expected, there were plenty of yoga/massage things, Buddhist stuff, all-natural this and that, a tent that apparently showed explicit videos inside...of farm animals, and I expect not sexy stuff with farm animals. There was a warning of graphic nature and no children. We proceeded the other way thru a variety of smells in the air from patchouli, to incense, to good food smells, to burnt food smells, to barnyardish smells. E got food from the Indian place, I got yummies from Ginger Thai. We sat in chairs under a tree near the general picnic area. Kids chased each other around and around. It was all quite pleasant.
We finished up and decided (by "we decided" what I mean is that I asked imploringly, since I had no cash...) to get a funnel cake. It had to be done. And what it was was a funnel cake. We walked around more and noshed. We had just passed thru the storytelling and face painting areas, and were heading back to the food area when E passed in front of me from my left to my right and then we were both startled by a THUNK sound and we looked to the ground and saw what initially appeared to be a rubber snake. We looked up at each other dumbly, or perhaps quizically, and then up at the branches way above us and then back down to the ground. Closer inspection confirmed that the snake was in fact not made of rubber but of snake-flesh and had the requisite flickering tongue and snaky movement. We then realised that it had fallen from the tree. Or perhaps the sky. But probably the tree. At that point an older woman carrying something mysterious inside a large opaque plastic box, took an interest and expressed concern that someone would run over or otherwise harm the snake. She suggested one of us pick it up by the tail but then withdrew that suggestion. She left. I found a stick of suitable length and strength and nudged the tapered end underneath the possibly endangered reptile and airlifted him/her into the safety of a tangle of bushes and poison oak.
Damndest thing. Though I was raised a Southern Baptist, there was never any snakehandling in any of our services that I recall. However seeing that I am currently an ordained minister, I may now add snakehandling to my list of credentials. Or at the very least snake-sticking.

Floyd!

This is of the kitchen counter. I was going to make hummus. Note, if you will, the tv remote. Right there with the ingredients, pencil, and whatnot. That was so I could turn the tv on and/or change the channel back to OLN in mere milliseconds while preparing food for dinner. In case you haven't heard, OLN is changing their name to "Versus" in September. In case you don't know what OLN is, it's the Outdoor Life Network. In case you don't know who I am, I'm The Leemur. I hope they stop showing so many fishing and hunting shows. You shouldn't be watching fishing and hunting shows--you should be out hunting and fishing. You should probably be doing that right now. Go.

Our First Tomato (please click image for full glory)

Kind of Pissy

fireworks, july 4 at the diamond, seen from our porch

Happy 4 of July Y'all

It's a great sunny day though it's supposed to get up to 98. I think we are going to pack up the backpacks and go on a mt bike trek all around and hopefully set up somewhere in the shade for a picnic and whatnot.

The Tour de France is well under way and has been pretty exciting so far. I was surprised, disgusted and disappointed when Ian breathlessly delivered the news at work on Friday about Basso, Ullrich and the others being suspended. I was really rooting for Basso. At this point Ullrich is over I think, this would be the Tour for him to shake everything off and win for once and for all, but that seems to be that about that. I think it will prove to be quite a race anyway. I'm going for Hincapie.


E made dinner last night(her delicious lentil enchiladas) and we sat on the side porch and ate and watched the fireworks from the Diamond. And the Braves actually won! We went to Friday's game and I was pleased as punch for that win too. Which brings a brief aside : I hate it when people leave before the game is over. Win or lose. I don't get it. When I go to a ballgame, I go to a ballgame, I stay to the bloody and/or glorious end. Whatever people.

Let include in conclusion, this picture, of these perfectly adorable packs of butter that I bought yesterday, not knowing that they weren't regular whole sticks of butter, but in fact these smaller, nicely wrapped little thingies that I wouldn't mind at all receiving as a present. But I'm just like that. Don't worry, I won't give you one for Christmas..

As I was in bed this morning listening to the news on NPR, the station dj came on with tidbits of the upcoming local news, the most important of which was "Warren Buffett does not use email." Wowsers.

Quote DuJour of the Highest Importance

"Right now more Virginians need new furniture than ever before."
--from Haynes "Big Wednesday Sale" commercial.
I don't get it.

Captech Classic 06.01.06--Great Fun

Game of Boggle, anyone?
No, wait, I forgot, I hate Boggle.
Nevermind.

I Admit It...My Blood is Drunk, My Heart Weeps, and I Know Nothing About the Universe

I'm a bit drunk right this minute...I didn't mean for that to rhyme. Tonight I met M. for beers at Zippys. We have not seen or talked in too long for good friends. There are too many dumb things in the middle. I had good time. We talked about movies, her movie, casting, music, I brought out my shame at having blown the screenwriting partners deal, and we talked on and beered, and decided that I am the one for Casting and maybe Concepts and Stuff. Zippys has a fine variety of beers, the first one I had was the @!#^%^%$^! Wheat Beer, (@!#^%^%^!) being Germanic something or another, then a $*^$*^)(*)(_)(#$#@^&) India Pale Ale, then something I split with M, a lager, it was all quite fine in the scheme of things, talking about life, love, movies, and whatnot over spirits.
We dismissed and I made my short way home, in the Golf, with the windows and sunroof open, and I swear, as I drove east on Brookland Park Blvd, I felt the unmistakable smell of Big Red gum on the air. That smell smacks you like a spicy brick that rings bells from the back of your throat down your esophagus and thru your sinuses and the very back bottom edge of your brainpan. What the hell Ginter Park, that was refreshing!
I get to my loving home, touch base, touch face, touch sweet loving heart, and work my way to my study, to my inbox. I have an email from a close friend..."HAVING ONE OF THOSE UNREAL MOMENTS.CANT SHAKE IT;
WANTING TO TEAR SOMEONES LIMBS FROM THEIR BODY. I
CANT STAND IT. SAW (friend) TONIGHT AT LOWES AND SHE
ALSO SAID IT IS GETTING HARDER EVERY DAY FOR HER. I
GUESS WE ARE COMING OUT OF SHOCK. IT IS SO FUCKING
HARD TO BELIEVE THAT THIS HAPPENED. I GUESS WE SHOULD
BE GLAD THAT WE ARE SO UNABLE TO ACCEPT THIS, AND NOT
BE COMPLIANT AND NUMB TO IT. I THINK THIS SUMMER IS
GOING TO BE REAL REAL SAD. I THINK WE ARE GOING TO
HAVE TO REALLY WATCH OUT FOR OUR FRIENDS. THE REALITY
OF THIS REARS ITS UGLY UGLY HEAD AT ANY MOMENT, AND
YOU CANT ALWAYS FIGHT IT OFF. I THINK WE WILL REALLY
NEED TO BE AWARE OF ALL OUR BUDDIES,EACH OTHER AND
OURSELVES."
And there is sad, open, painful, real, dirty, plain truth. Our friends, our sweet, loving, beautiful, funny, serious, goofy, gorgeous, very real friends, are very gone, have been horribly taken from us. They won't be at the pool in a few weeks, won't be at the store, at school, at the coffee shop, walking by your house, waving at you while you're in your yard, or at the stoplight beside you. None of us will see them there, even though we still feel them everywhere. It is very hard to try to tell someone who's removed, in one way or another, what this is like. It is not like any loss I have so far known. It is not like anything I have known in my life. It is not regular, it is not normal, there is no pattern, no road, no map, no sketch, no platitude, no psalm, no hand, no look, no saying, no nothing that can cover this, that can cope with this, that can placate this, that can bless this, that can cure our hearts of this. Sorry God, I can't figure this out. I feel comfort from my friends, but nothing stops the pain of the salt screaming the water from my heart and the acid soaking though my soul.

I can't shake my blue. Family closet skeleton of genes strung together muddle and wailing. I look at this :
"Come back to square one, just the minimum bare bones. Relaxing with the present moment, relaxing with hopelessness, relaxing with death, not resisting the fact that things end, that things pass, that things have no lasting substance, that everything is changing all the time--that is the basic message. " --Pema Chodron
I am butting my head against everything. Against my own head. Against my heart. Against the wall around me.

(...and your crappy lamp I always hated...)

Allergies Blow...

FedEx has swallowed my package, and my rear derailleur cable on my road bike is no longer even holding on by a thread. All in all, I'd rather be mt biking thru a quiet green forest with birds singing hymns and sunlight shining through here and there to spotlight some simple treasure. And then a good Vietnamese meal afterward on the side porch.

Long Time No See

Hey. I've been really sluggish about posting. I guess mostly because I feel like the majority of things I have to say have been about wanting to kill killers and lacking the power to make everything right in the world. I'm trying to be more positive now. Most of the time. I'll be back. I gotta go to work now.

Love, Leemur

No Title

I am here. I am awake. It's 2:39 am. E and I played cards for a good while after dinner. That was fun. She has gone to bed. The dog is on the couch asleep. The cats are tucked somewhere around here, under a jacket or sweater. I sip a bit of Maker's Mark. I am sleepy, physically tired, but my mind is relentless, throbbing, picking at me with it's claws. So many things refer to Kathy, Bryan, those beautiful girls, without my even realising initially. A song, place, gesture, laugh, are like catching a smell that triggers an instant sweet sense memory, and I walk on from that smiling blindly, then trip on the wires of the bouncing betties of reality bringing back the fresh taste of iron in the mouth and eyes burning and chest turning within itself. It almost seems as the days pass that it is more unreal, more likely that they are on vacation, out of town, touring somewhere nutty and great, but they'll be right around the corner, back for a party any time soon--this is not true, and yet maybe it is. I am sad. I am hopeful. I am filled with anger, grief, madness, confusion, love, lostness. I am waiting.

World of Mirth Reopens

I have more to say. I've just been feeling quiet, sad, heavy, angry.

Trouble in mind, I'm blue,
But I won't be blue always
The sun will shine
In my back door some day.
Trouble in mind, that's true,
I have almost lost my mind.
Life ain't worth living,
Sometimes I feel like dying.
I'm gonna lay my head
On some lonesome railroad line,
Let the 2:19 train
Ease my trouble in mind.
Trouble, oh trouble
Trouble's on your worried mind.
When you see me laughing, baby,
I'm laughing just to keep from crying.
I'm going down to the river
I'm gonna take my old rocking chair
And if those blues overtake me,
I'm gonna rock on away from there.
Trouble in mind, I'm blue,
My poor heart is beating slow.
Never had no trouble
In my life before.
Never had no trouble
In my life before

My Confusion, My Confession, My Friends Have Been Taken Away

Still I barely know what to say--There is no satisfaction in the absence of reason, the chaining of someone who is an "animal," but not that, because animals only do what their circuitry and nature direct them to, and we cannot label that in our own terms. These ones--I don't know what name to give them...criminal, assailant, monster, killer, convict, murderer, none of that is enough--I could search for the rest of my life for a word or words to name them, still that would not be enough, nothing now will ever be enough. They have scarred more hearts and souls than they could have imagined, they have ruined concrete, wood, tile, rug, curtain, grass, tree, cloth, window, the very air... a hammer is for creating and building, not for taking away. Yet I think if they were before me, and I a weapon in my hands, God fogive me, I would kill them and I would feel more for a pencil's lead breaking on a piece of paper.

No Words

Friday, It's Still Overcast

My heart is still so heavy. As I try to get back in "the swing of things" there is normalcy, the mundane details of everyday life, also the smiles of loved ones, friendly hellos at work, the dog romping with her toys, but then the crushing reality back again of terrible loss, so many sad, crying, staring, wringing hands, minds grappling with this obscene puzzle. This will go on for a long time I think.

I had a dream, the night before last, that I was talking to Kathy. We were both jabbering away, playing catch-up, what we had both been up to. She said she had moved, something she didn't think she'd ever want to do again but that it was okay. I asked her if she was happy. She smiled her big sweet smile and said "yeah, I am."

Vigil

Here I sit at my desk, a beer and a candle lit, I am trying to figure out the unfigurable, trying to make sense of all the pieces of a horrible explosion. It is impossible. I cannot get my head around it. When I can clearly see something in my head, a facial expression, the sound of someone saying "hey Lee!," a child frolicking at the pool, a smile that's in the eyes as well as on the mouth, how can these people that I'm seeing be gone? How can Bryan, Kathy, and the girls be torn away from us all by another human being? What person could do such a thing, what person could take the lives of children as though they were nothing? There is no answer to this. Even when "justice" is brought, there will still never be a satisfactory answer. What brain holds the neurons and synapses that has brought a sledgehammer down on so many hearts, that has left us reeling in confusion?

I was alone at home yesterday, trying to digest everything. When I couldn't make it any further, I left and drove around the city. Then I headed across the river and went to the house. I didn't know what else to do. It was raining. I pulled up and parked on the wrong side of the street, got out and walked over to the tree in front of their house. It was encircled with bouquets of flowers, a few stuffed animals, and children's drawings in ziplock bags. It was the stuffed bunny and Pooh and Kitty that wrenched me, and the drawings...as much as we can't understand this, what about the children, what are they to make out of things? Perhaps they have a better sense of it, I don't know. Maybe magical thinking is the way to go for now, Mommy and Daddy and the girls are on a long trip....
A older gentleman neighbor came over at that point and asked me if I thought it would be okay to move the flowers and things to the porch. The police crime lab van was still there but I said that I didn't know why not. No one stopped us. I handled the plush animals as though they were glass, they were to me, and tucked them together, all touching, to the right of the front door. It made me think of when my sister and I were little and a thunderstorm came, we would go through our bedroom and make sure that all the stuffed animals were at least in pairs, the buddy system, so they wouldn't be so scared.

I paused, squatting on my heels after we had moved everything, and looked to my left. Front windows broken, police tape over them. Chairs, a glider, a small table with a small notebook on it, but mostly it was the hula hoop that I couldn't take my eyes off of. Half on the porch, half on the chair. Left in the way that a kid would cast it off before going inside. I never would have thought that a hula hoop could cover me in such a wet wool sweater of abject sadness. I cannot remove that sweater. I cannot censor the awful visions and fight to run them over with the memories and feelings of goodness, laughs, music, Kathy's smile and laugh, visiting her at Main St Grill back in the day, our time working together at the Feast, the lovely pies she made, visiting her at the newly minted World of Mirth when it was over top of Exile, buying the rubbery scorpion women to decorate my Christmas tree when I lived on Hanover Ave in my teeny tiny apartment.

I cannot remove the sweater.

Bryan, Kathy, Stella, and Ruby Harvey

I am completely in shock...two friends and their two sweet daughters were brutally murdered in their home yesterday...New Year's Day 2006. They have an annual party...people came...they found cops and firemen, police tape and death. This is unimaginable, horrific. I have cried most of the day. I have no idea what to do. Everybody is trying to comfort one another...It's on the news, in the paper...Kathy was one of those really sweet good people that you don't meet often enough. She had the same birthday as my sister Phred so I always remembered when her birthday was, and she would always say, "I can't believe you always remember my birthday!". God damn it. God please bless the souls of Bryan, Kathy, Stella, and Ruby. Please say a prayer for them, in whatever way you pray.

Maybe she doesn't want to laugh anymore.

Real, All Too Real

A few things :
I discovered at work today that I can use the adding machine reasonably well with my left hand. And I am not left-handed.

I would like to put all my furniture and some other things too on casters.

I dreamt the night before last that I had gotten a new job as a butcher in a large,circus-freaky, labyrinthine underground restaurant, and though I was quite nervous everyone took a shine to me quickly. I was informed at one point to bring a 'costume' to work the next day for a special assignment. Turns out I was chosen by a famous and celebrated modern dancer to be her partner in her newest piece, which was to debut in the restaurants "theater." I turned all wiggly and panicked because I knew that modern dance is the root of many many bad things and I was not prepared in any way to express my own nor anyone else's Important Feelings in interpretive dance. Turns out all I had to do was "support" her by hopping around like a chicken, with one hand on my head with fingers splayed and the other at my rear also splay-fingered. Geez.

Today is Saturday the 3rd of December...

Well what the hell is going on? I am ambling about, having coffee, tidying up, folding laundry, checking in on Libba occasionally, petting the cat and dog, and counting the minutes til I need to head down to work. We are doing a party for 180 tonite, should be over by 9:00 though, which means time for hanging out, having drinks, hashing out life's mysteries and humilites, and generally fellowshipping. It'll be Linda, Libba, Julie, Judith and me. I feel like I've forgotten someone...probably, I am foggy.
I saw a BMW on fire on the interstate on my way to work yesterday. No one was in it.
Megan lost her cell phone
Linda found hers.
I bought lights sticks at Lowes, they're safe, non-toxic, non-flammable, and last for 12 hours. The package has the words "Homeland Security Disasters Blackouts Emergencies" on it. It also says "In God We Trust." I'm not sure what I've bought into here. I'm not sure how they aid in Homeland Security but I'll roll with it.
Frosty the Snowman was a jolly happy soul and so am I. And as Homer said "God loves you! And He wants to kill you!"
Love, Leemur

Hello Sunnyvale, What's Going On?!

I bled the radiators tonite. They seem better now. I feel good about that.
I feel warmer.
It's good.
Everybody sleep well.
Love, Leemur

is

Rumors of My Demise are Greatly Appreciated, no wait, exaggerated

Yo! I'm here, I never left really, it just seems that way. What with the moving, the campaigning for governor, the submitted then retracted nomination to the Supreme Court (frankly I just wasn't mentally up for it anyway) and generally being poor but happy, I haven't been keeping up with my blog duties. Dooties. Poopy.
Clearly I am half mad.
So many things to catch up on, including pictures, the beach trip, the new house, the kids, the hiking trip, the day to day things that make life bearable and lovely.
Be back soon.
Love, Leemur

home

I am back....tired and achy, but yeah. Lot going on, mostly the the Moving Thing, moving into new home, which is super-awesome. Scoley and Mugsy were our first official guests over tonite, a good time was had I believe, appetising cheese and whatnot eaten, dinner plates eaten clean, wine sipped and appreciated, dessert towered with whipt cream and enjoyed. I tried to send pictures of the new apt to blog today but something never went right, I'll try again later I suppose. That's about all right now, it's late, hopefully I can update tomorrow, and then, God-willing, I'm heading off to my 20th high school reunion in Roanoke on Friday. I still have to find me-self a hotel room so I don't have to sleep in the fold-down back of the Golf. Not that that's the worst place I could sleep... but you know... cheers,good day to all, and good night, good luck, good fishing. --leemur

Giant Slug Welcomes Us To Neighborhood!

Jam

I am having an onion bagel with butter and blueberry "all fruit" jam. This is remarkable only in that I have long derided jam, and jelly, as "Gross". Strangely sweet, texturally suspect, and worst of all, sticky. I hate being sticky. Fear of being sticky has often compromised my promising relationship with honey. Any sort of pastry featuring or hiding jam within it causes me to turn my head in disgust and frankly, a bit of fear. So how did I end up with this perfectly toasted, buttered bagel lightly covered with spreadable 100% all fruit spread stuff lightly sweeted with white grape juice concentrate? I can't really say...I guess I felt like I needed to test myself...and turns out the test wasn't that hard to pass. This time.

I was about to make an entry, but I just got a phone call and I have to leave. It doesn't mean that I'm not thinking about you. Love, Leemur

Ugh Head

Oh gosh, the obsessive humming is back, and back with a vengeance, as they say. It's more uncontrollable than ever and it seems to have joined forces with another part of my brain, the part that's responsible for the catching and keeping a song in one's head, and the song that has been on the loop virtually non-stop most of the week is ...the theme song from The Price Is Right. Holy shit, how could this be possible? I haven't even seen TPIR in many, many years. Damn Bob Barker and his ass-grabbing, animal rights sponsoring ways. What's worse is that I remember clearly that it's a Mark Goodson-Bill Todwin Production. I can hear those words so clearly, those words spoken so often after so many game shows in the 70's. I know what you're thinking, you're thinking that I am basically saying that I hear voices. It's okay, I'm not crazy, I just hear game show theme songs.

bongo

bunnicula

bee gees

big, big butthead

I'm a Great Big Baby

Ugh, I finished watching the last episode of "Six Feet Under" a little bit ago and I have stopped blowing my nose, finally. My God, I'm such a puss, I'm starting to think that there's nothing contrived and sentimental that I won't cry over, especially, but not limited to, anything on broadcast or cable tv. In the episode where Nate died, well forget about it, I'm too embarassed to even say. Man, I can't believe what a shameless pussy I can be...

Who's Afraid of My TV Guide?

I was listening to the radio on my way to the asian grocery store this afternoon when I heard two gentlemen talking about the steady decline of TV Guide. It seems that The People are more inclined now to seek tv listings on the internet because of the variety, searchability, and so forth. One of the two talked about seeing people on the subway "in the old days" with their newspapers folded over to the television section, a highlighter mapping out their week to come. I detected notes of superiority and nasty pity in his voice that indeed rubbed my rankled fur this way and that. Why?! Why, do you ask? Because if I lived in NY and rode the subway, you might see me on your train on Mondays with my Green Section and maybe not highlighter, but at very least a Sharpie, figuring out when I need to be home, when I can tape, and when I can stay out late with no compunctions concerning "Case Files with Dr.Henry Lee."
The Fact of the Matter is that I don't like most tv listings on the net, I don't find them fast, easy, and infinitely searchable, I find them Annoyingly Time-Consuming. I'm all for the net and technology of every sort, but I find comfort and some bit of anticipatory excitement in laying back on the couch and browsing the tv listings in the paper.
So kill me.
I admit, however, that TV Guide used to be... better, somehow. Growing up, I would beg my mother for a subscription, trying vainly to explain what a valuable resource it was, as we were living in a series of tiny hamlets in North Carolina,only to consistently run up against cat-eye-glasses magnifying tired, irritated eyes. So basically, I always lost. The sad irony is that once I was on my own and could afford the paltry cover price I was no longer interested as I felt, even at that point, that TV Guide just wasn't what it use to be, (or literally "wernt wut it usta be").
Ultimately I am saddened now, by the snowballing irrelavancy of the Guide, the memories of the way-too-easy/dumb backpage crossword puzzles, and the bittersweetness, mostly bitter, of my lost youth.
So it goes. I am tiny.

Like a lot of people this morning, I watched for and watched Discovery as she made her way back to earth. I had my fingers crossed and a prayer on my breath. I'm happy she and her people are back safely.

Space shuttle, space shmuttle...

...put those astronauts to work, teaching the less priviledged and otherwise illiterate, to read, open bank accounts, balance checkbooks, find a decent job, care for their neighbor, vote for the candidate of their choice, and give back to the community. Turn that shuttle into an enormous planter, filled with medical marijuana or delicious tomatoes. Turn Cape Canaveral into a giant artspace for all children and stock it full of supplies. I guess that's my dream about that.
photo from
http://www.art180.org/2_about.htm
check it out.

Friday finally, it seems

It's been a short week what with the 4th and all, but it feels like it took a long time to get to today. Bombings in London, tropical storms thrashing, Lance kicking ass early on, and the murders keep coming here in the confederate capital. What a life. I'm a lucky person. Let's all give thanks right now for waking up this morning, in one piece (assuming you are), relatively sane, with roofs over our heads, food in our fridges, and the likelihood (sp?) that we won't be picked off by a sniper as we cross the street. Love, Leemur

the bing

Cheers America!

Well, it certainly is the Fourth of July. Currently I'm all alone except for Isabel and Oscar and Bing. Everybody else is out of town. Oh well. I'll be haeading back to my apt soon to clean up, feed the cats, grab my bike and head down to work. Yeah, that's right, I'm going to work, because it's work that made this country great. Or whatever. I'm going to do some painting and repairing and listen to music loud. At some point I'll take a break and go for a ride out route 5 or somewhere. I look forward to it all. I have no idea what we'll do tonite. I wish we could find a roof near Dogwood Dell to get on and watch the fireworks. We'll see.
I have to make a brief rant about the lack of any real rowing coverage from the regatta on Saturday in yesterday's paper. (that was sort of an awkward sentence) I only saw the online version, but they usually have more pictures and things than the print edition, but barely a mention of rowing. And no pictures. What tha?! What up Times Dispatch? Get with the program. There.
Peace out. Leemur.

Rockett's Landing Regatta

Went to the Regatta today, part of the Adventure Games going on this weekend. Got there later than I planned, missed seeing Libah's race, but saw others, got recruited briefly to help move cookout food, took pictures, roamed around, prasied the Solidowskis, talked baby-talk to a really cute puppy that I considered stealing because she was tied up with an owner nowhere in sight, drank beer, ate two hotdogs, wished that Dan LeBlanc was my father or uncle, got some sunburn, looked out onto the river from a comfy fold out chair, got a free t-shirt (thanks Laura), didn't pee in a porta-john (porta-john fear), forgot to share a piece of gossip I had, thought about the start of the Tour De France, offered to make dinner tonite before the fireworks, came home. More later. Love, Leemur

solids in action

-

ridiculously cute puppy

solidowskis

dock, boat, solidowskis, guy

down on the dock--from left libah, laura, a bit of shannon's rear i think, and gentleman whose name i don't know

I should blog more. Perhaps it would help with a newly discovered problem I have : unstoppable, uncontrollable, totally annoying humming. I have hummed from time to time, as much as anyone I suppose, but I've noticed that I do it almost all the time now and it's proving hard to make myself stop. It makes having a stupid song stuck in the head seem like a breeze, at least you can sing something else, but this is entirely different. Perhaps it's some kind of nervous tic kind of thing, but based on what and why? It's disturbing. Is there a support group? Can I invent some course of therapy? Would it involve freshly squeezed juices and salves? Or balms? Would I be forced to watch the entire "Lethal Weapon" series? With Joe Pesci, in character, drinking Kool Aid beside me on the couch? Comments, suggestions are welcome.

Things I Like That I Didn't Think I Would

Nights With Alice Cooper (http://www.nightswithalicecooper.com/listen.asp)
I've never felt one way or the other about Alice Cooper, I like some of his songs, I always thought he needed a good long bath, but other than that, fairly neutral. Not so long ago I started catching his show that's on weeknights at 7:00, and I really dig it. He's funny. I didn't really believe that it was him til I looked up the website, and sure enough, there was his sweet, hammered face. He wears polo shirts sometimes. He gets my vote. If I were close to him though, I'd urge him in the direction of a haircut.
Not Smoking
Who knew?! It took asthma to finally make me quit, not my own, but that of my Precious Bunny, and what a great decision. Don't get me wrong, it's still a struggle but one I gratefully bear. I do miss the ritual though.
Bootie Socks
I've pretty much always hated them, from the ones that barely peek out of your sneaks to the "low cuts," I've always thought they were super-queer, and not in the good way. Okay, they're fine for athletes of whatever description, but too often all I could picture was some early-to-midde-aged white guy with ugly shorts, painfully white Reeboks or Nikes, and The Socks. Socklets. Footies. Whatever. Ugh. So what the hell, I can't explain why I not only somewhat suddenly decide that they're not so bad, but that it's also probably okay for me to wear them. Huh? I'm just a little frightened that maybe I've become a middle-aged white guy when I wasn't looking.
See also this link to a favourite blog
http://opieblue.typepad.com/my_weblog/2005/05/bootie_girly_ga.html

Yesterday's Rose Garden Press Conference, Starring Our Man W!

I was listening to the news on the radio at work yesterday (okay, yes, it was All Things Considered on NPR) and they were reporting on W's Rose Garden news conference, and I was only half-listening until I heard "Amnesty International" blah, blah, blah, and tuned into him talking about their allegations concerning Guantanamo Bay detainees and so forth, and what he said made me laugh aloud, partly because of his ridiculous gaffe, and partly because of something personal... it went like this : (regarding the report) "it seemed like to me they based some of their decisions on--on the word of-- and allegations by people who were held in detention, people who hate America, people who have been trained, in some instances, to dis-assemble--that means not tell the truth, and so it's an absurd report."
Yes, absurd, that's it.
I laugh, on the personal front, because in an email several years ago to someone who did the old dump-you-for-the-ex thing, I strongly and forthrightly, laid her out as, among other things, being a "dissembling and dishonest liar." Redundant? Perhaps, but she had to look up what that meant. Strangely, she was also a media personality...
I'm not trying to be catty...I'm just being mean---

New Thing, New Section! Avoid the Rush! I Call It "What Am I Angry About?"

What am I angry about right now? Well...
I'm angry about a state that would try to make a 13 yr old girl have a baby when she didn't want to---
I'm angry about sexual predators who are released from prison and continue on to rape, maim, and murder. Little girls. Little boys. Your little girl or boy---
I'm angry about pharmacists who feel that they can make the decision on who gets what prescribed medication that they may find Morally Offensive or Wrong. Saying "who the fuck do you think you are?!" doesn't even begin to cover that---
I'm angry about men who refuse to wear condoms and spread STDs and create children with complete disregard---
I'm angry about the women who have sex with them. No glove, no love. Hey! No love, no love! Yes, babies are cute and cuddly. But babies aren't dolls that you can toss in a box when you want to get fucked up, go out dancing, hang out on the porch, or bang your brains out because Mr Wonderful can get it up for you right this second---
Stop not caring about whether you live or die-- you could be a blessing in someone's life, lives, if you'd give it a try. It's not too hard to act decent---
I'm angry about lives that end too soon because somebody thinks they have to get there FASTER than anybody else. Do you want to be someone who's so badly burned that it takes a week or more to even figure who you are, rather, who you Were?
I'm angry about motherfucking suicide bombers every fucking day in one or the other of two countries that we watch on the news every morning---

Thoughts on Cover Bands

Maximus was telling me about a music fest type thing that he was planning on going to made up entirely of cover bands--faux AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Iggy Pop, Guns -n- Roses, and a couple more. Seems like it might be a hoot. It also got me to thinking about what bands might not inspire someone to start up a group as homage to them... hmmmm..
Little River Band, Chicago, Night Ranger (these guys just seem like a cover band anyway), Styx (there probably was back in the day), Pablo Cruise, Atlanta Rhythm Section (though that might prove to be fun). These are just a few that popped into mind. OH OH OH--BREAD!

I Think

I'm off my obsessive popcorn eating kick.
Stay tuned as ConAgra stock goes down. It's my fault.

Boy Finds Little Debbie Cake Under Rock in Woods

Boy Finds Snack In Cereal Box - May 5, 2005

May 4, 2005 1:41 p.m. EST

By JASEN LEE, All Headline News Staff Report

SHROPSHIRE, England (AHN) – Talk about a breakfast surprise! 5-year old Jordan Willett finds a two-foot long snake in his cereal.

The live snake was found in a box of Golden Puffs cereal.

His mother says she thought the reptile was a free gift! Theresa Willet also says, 'My lad, he went to open his cereal and luckily enough I was behind him because a snake popped out. 'I just screamed. I grabbed the box off him. Jordan's still in shock today. He's not eating. Neither am I.'

Officials determined it is a corn snake that is not venomous and says the animal was likely someone’s pet.

A spokesman for Netto, the company who makes the cereal, says, 'This does seem to be a bizarre incident but we are taking it very seriously. Netto is in discussions with its supplier to ensure that all procedures are reviewed and we will be making checks on our stock.'
The family says it may consider a lawsuit."

Me and the crappie I got from the James. Eat your heart out Shannon!

me-n-fish

Finally--

Here's a few pictures from LM's birthday nite.

Six of the finest ladies in Richmond @ Mama Zu having a ball

LM & AK Strong Woman Contest @ Mama Zu

I Try to Answer the Question of 'Who Invented the Zipper?'

This question came to me at work recently, I don't know why, but it aroused my curiousity. So, apparently, Elias Howe, who also invented & patented the sewing machine, in 1851, but he was too pre-occupied with the sewing machine (understandably, sewing machines are right up there with the wheel, bakelite, and the marathon bar),and then there was Whitcomb L. Judson, in 1893, and finally Gideon Sundback, a Swede worker for Judson , who invented/devised the Zipper as we know it today, in 1913, patented in 1917. YKK, which you see on many zippers, is the Japanese company that pretty much has the corner on the zipper-making market. Go figure!
I wish I had invented the zipper.
I would like to be an inventor. I already have big schemes about The Edible Press On Nail. I swear it will be huge in Japan. Because they're crazy. And if Japanese youth love it, American youth will follow, then the slower-to-catch-on older peoples, and that's when I will become huge. You wait and see. Then I can blame anybody for anything, whenever I want.

Well...

It seems that I have been quite lackadaisical of late.
As I have learned from an unbalanced co-worker, Blame Must Be Assigned, In All Cases.
Therefore, I blame you.