Posted 11:16 AM
Life Gets Better

Since I'm still on the morning show schedule...my thoughts are nowhere near in-depth. So, I bring you this moment of Zen:





Channel 70, now on my cable. I may never leave the house again.

Posted 8:50 PM
Issues

Issue #1: Firewall.
Status: Solved!
Meaning: My new blog will FINALLY go online when I finish uploading it...tomorrow afternoon hopefully!

Issue #2: Basketball
Status: Woo!
Meaning: Sooners ROCK! Terps WIN! Hope for any $$ in tourney stays somewhat afloat...

Issue #3: Jacques
Status: Sick!
Meaning: Timmy is NOT going to offer him any more turkey bones

Issue #4: Love Life
Status: On Life Support
Meaning: My 90 year old grandpa is getting more than I am these days. Somethings wrong here.

Issue #5: Car
Status: Clean!
Meaning: Maybe if my dog gets un-sick, a chick will see him, like him, see my car and how clean it is after a Sunday's worth of washing, and improve Issue #4

Issue #6: Sleep
Status: Lacking
Meaning: I'm tired...I pulled a 1/2 suicide this weekend and now I'm doing 2 days of the morning show...So I'm going to bed.

Posted 11:17 AM
The dog ate my homework

No, we're not talking about Jacques here. I sat down last night around 11 to pick up where I've left off in the blogging realm. I'm STILL getting over the cold that knocked me out for a few days last week. In fact, I'm getting a little tired of wandering through the halls at work sounding like a homeless man with pneumonia.

In any case, the blog...a good one..."up and vanished like a fart in the wind" (one free beer to the 1st person who knows what movie that quote comes from). Upon hitting submit, I got the "this page can't be displayed". I hit the back button, and it was gone. Nothing, Jerry...I've got nothing.

So you get THIS instead. It's better than getting a zero on the assignment, right?

Posted 10:55 PM
The Pot's 11 Million

Stop thinking about drugs for 2 seconds and shift gears...the title is actually a line from one of my favorite Mary Chapin Carpentersongs. She does country music a lot of justice...she's found her own little niche. Anyway the song is "I Feel Lucky Today"...ironic, since I felt like sh*t all day long...

"I strolled up to the counter/gave my numbers to the clerk/the pot's 11 million so I called in sick to work"

...and even though South Carolina has a 3-month old lottery (represented by a spokeswoman whose name should be BIYATCH), I didn't buy any tickets...but I did call in sick to work. The annual head cold came a little late this year...but nonetheless, it's rearing its ugly head...inside MY head, which, at about 830 this morning, felt like it weighed about 40 pounds.

I spent the day languishing in bed, sucking down glasses of theraflu, watching how-to programs on algebra on TV, and generally languishing and drifting in and out of conciousness. It's about the only way I know how to feel better when fighting a cold. But laying in bed gives you a lot of time to thing about things...things like laying in bed.

Back in 1997 or so, I did a lot of laying in bed. The only problem is, it was when I should have been doing things like going to class, studying, and enjoying interaction with other members of the human race. I was having none of that. Nothing was appealing. I'd lost interest in a lot of things. I was battling, in one form or another, depression.

How it ever got to that point I'll never figure out. I can remember it starting when I realized I hated my classes and had a general bad taste in my mouth about school. I was getting sick of being a baseball-cap wearing frat-boy, watching weekend after weekend pass by with a different girl crying about what she'd become while throwing up in my trash can. I started going to class less and less, and sleeping more and more. Schedulewise, I was like a senior citizen in reverse...have breakfast at 4pm, lunch at 9pm, and dinner at 1am. I didn't need the latest issue of TV Guide to tell you what was on...I had the damned thing memorized. My best friend attempted to remedy the situation by pulling my blankets off me in the morning and throwing assorted Nikes and Bass loafers at my head. Usually, all I did was growl and tell him to f*ck off (some friend I am!). If you've never dealt with depression, it's a tough thing to describe. Looking back, the only way to picture it to someone else is to imagine your life without any color...in black and white...that's what it feels like.

My 'lying in bed' period lasted for almost a year...but not like your typical 2-hour TV drama. Yes, I did actually get out of bed in 1997...I even went to a few classes, took a few tests, and made a few passing grades. I stayed in Oklahoma that summer and found a pretty nice girlfriend (well, she was nice at the time anyway). The black and white drawings had a few subtle marks of color on them by the end of the year. But for the most part...my friends still wondered when the hell I was going to get back to 'normal'.

One day, I woke up...and I got out of bed. More like a typical 2-hour TV drama, I remember looking in the mirror and telling myself to snap the f*ck out of it. And, strangely enough, I did. Almost instantaneously. The color came flooding back into the picture. I set a few goals for myself...one of them to get the hell out of Oklahoma. Don't get me wrong...I loved the time I spent there...but it was time to finish up the novel there that was taking far too long to write.

I hope to God I never feel that way again. I'd rather have my head filled with mucus for the next 2 weeks than have to deal with that for a second time. Fortunately...I feel as happy now as I've felt at some of the happiest times of my life...even after a day of lying in bed, blowing my nose every five minutes, and hoping tomorrow I'll have the physical strength to get up and head back into a vivid, colorful world.

Posted 6:27 PM
Meat my dog Jacques

I promise that this will not turn into an "All about Jacques" blog...but I'm still a new dad and I find this whole dog ownership thing very amusing.

First off, Jacques is way ahead of schedule in the training realm. It would seem he might have been trained before he was ever a pound dog. He comes at my whistle (unless he's chasing squirrels). He sits (about 95% of the time). He doesn't get up on furniture. And the best part -- it appears he's housebroken (which, with the luck my family has with dogs and cats...is very encouraging...but I'm still knocking wood very hard). But as well mannered as he is...the bigpawed bear-dog is a hungry one.

I went home for lunch today to to fix a Gwaltney bologna sandwich. Oh, that rich taste of lunchmeat smashed between two pieces of wheat bread with Miracle Whip...it's like jumping back in time to 4th grade brown-bags, complete with pretzels, an apple, a cookie, and a little note from Mom. Anyway, since I was eating at home...I realized the importance of a pickle with this lunch. A crisp Vlassic dill out of the fridge can make or break a lunch. As I turned around to grab the jar out of the fridge...I heard the subtle tap of big dog claws on a countertop.

I turned around. Jacques...was hungry. He held my Gwaltney bologna sandiwch in his mouth. His tail was wagging.

As I learned from Scoop the wonderdog...you don't take food from a dogs mouth. Jacques got a stern, loud NO! And at that, he put the sandwich on the floor.

Obedience makes a dog a winner or a loser in my book (although even the most devious of dogs have their loveable qualities). But when he put the sandwich down and sat down, with his tail wagging next to it, I knew I had a winner.

The sandwich, by the way, was great...I just picked around the fang marks in the bread. The pickle wasn't half bad, either.

Posted 4:26 PM
Woof

Well...my mind and 11 of you crazy folks can't be wrong! Jacques is home now. We're going to the park so he can learn his first game of frolf. I'll post some pictures soon!

Arf!

Posted 1:17 PM
Politically stumped

Maybe I should change my name to Shaggy. If you haven't figured it out by now, the best way to get me to go anywhere and to do anything is to offer the promise of something to eat upon arrival. (All together now, flashback to your childhood: "Zoinks!") Especially if it's not something I particularly want to go to in the first place.

Our bosses here are smart. They know that very few people actually want to hang around the station after a long day to hear some politico-schmiticko stand at a podium and lecture us and give us his take on the changing demographics of South Carolina. In an effort to get us to stay (and to just be nice, cause our bosses are like that), they catered in Henry's smokehouse...the juciest, most tender, savory pork barbeque in Greenville. It's only a mile from my house. I sometime feel like I eat there more often than I change my socks. Anyway, they likened this thing to an "ol' fashioned political stump". I'm guessin' it's a Southern thang, but who knows. Politics...quite simply...make me feel like an idiot.

But the BBQ worked. I ate 2 sandiwches and listened to Schmiticko's lecture. By the end, my anti-politics mind actually understood the big races going on this election year, and the important issues. I feel all grown up, like for once in my life, I actually should have been wearing a tie because, that's what people in politics do...go around, shake hands, wear ties.

So now...tie-less...on my day off...I think Shaggy needs to pick up Scooby. (not to be confused with "scoopy" of course...aka the Terror of Jocassee Court).

Posted 11:34 PM
Gone to the dogs

It's day #3 in a series of 4 of getting up way to early for my tastes. Mind you, it's not the "slam the alarm clock, groan, and grumble about what the hell kind of alcohol I poured down my throat last night" kind of burden, but losing an hour or 2 of sleep each night is starting to get old. This morning the grumbling wasn't about alcohol...but the man known as Doc Gaines. Ever since way-too-friendly Doctor Murphy got ahold of my mouth, I haven't liked the dentist. I'm not afraid of noisy drills by any means. Hell, that plaque-scraping thing doesn't even send chills down my spine (except when the hygenist picks at my gums, and when I flinch she responds with a high-pitched sing-songy "ooooopsie!")...it's that damned tooth polisher. Nothing that puts a craw in my crotch more than that gritty, "I just french kissed a sandbox" you get after that high-pitched sing-songy tooth polisher molests my mouth.

Anyhow, after that grueling experience...and a fairly low-stress day...I came home to an empty house. Being lonely has never been something I've really dealt with. Ask any longtime friend and they'll tell you I'm easily self-amused (no masturbation jokes, please). (huh huh...I said masturbation). But lately, it seems there should be something there when I come home. And since there's really no one on the dating horizon these days...it seems I should be coming home to a Jacques.

Jacques is friendly. Jacques eyes have something magic in them. I've played with Jacques just a time or two, but we've had so much fun together. Jacques is a shepherd-collie mix of some sort at the Greenville Humane Society. The name on his cage says "Bailey", but G-rob and I decided "Jacques-a-mo" was a much better name for this pup. We visited him about a week and a half ago on a sunny Friday when the first thoughts of getting a "mans best friend" crossed the pathetically vast wasteland known as my mind. As much as I wanted to take Jacques home...I thought better. I didn't want to act impulsively, although I've given this some thought for a long time. Although I consider myself spontaneous...my mind acts incredibly mechanical sometimes.

Tonight...the house was empty again. Seinfeld wasn't nearly as interesting as it usually is. So I hopped in the car to see if Jacques was still at the pound. I was sure that in the past 12 days, someone else had decided their house was too empty...driven to the Humane Society...let Jacques out of his cage...and taken him home. At least that way I wouldn't feel bad. He probably would be happier at that other guy's house. Rationalizing has always been one of my fortes.

I walked in to the long row of adult dog cages. The nice volunteer woman who looked like she'd had a long day too told me adult dogs get adopted on a regular basis...and the Greenville Humane Society doesn't put their dogs to sleep. Scanning the cages...I began to believe her. I didn't see any dogs that looked familiar. They'd all changed in the last 10 days. It was quiet in there though...all the dogs were asleep. All...but that loveable shepherd collie mix in the 7th cage on the left. Jacques was sitting up at the cage door...like he knew I was coming. He looked at black lab he shared a cage with for a quick second as if to say "Ha! Told you he was coming back!" and then looked right back at me. I could almost see him thinking..."Don't take your eyes off him. The eyes are what gets 'em. Focus!" He was right. Those damned eyes got me. That, and the fact that when I said "You still think you're ready to come home with me?"...he answered with a very small, very dignified, very certain "Woof".

I'm ready for my house to not be so empty when I come home. But I'm still wondering if I'm ready to make the dog committment. I like being able to blow out of town on a moment's notice without arranging a kennel or a dogwatcher. I like being able to go straight from work to a bar to go drink for an evening and not have that guilty, "shoulda gone home and played with the dog" feeling. I'm sure Jacques would understand. I think sleeping on it tonight will make the decision more clear in the morning.

Still, I'd rather be stuck in the middle of this decision...then stuck in the dentist's chair awaiting the polisher of doom.

Posted 11:40 PM
Letter from camp

Dear Blog Family,

Things at camp are great. I am keeping real busy. Last week Mom came to visit for parents weekend and we had a lot of fun, even though it was cold and rainy. This week I have to get up early every day for a canoe trip (speaking engagement in Laurens), a fishing trip (dentist's appointment), and a breakfast cookout (shooting new re-opens). I don't like getting up early.

Soon though, it will be free day (the weekend), and I'll get to do whatever I want. I think I will sleep in if the counselors let me.

I miss you guys.

Love,
Ted

PS, I lost in the great campwide archery tournament tonight (Scrabble game). I'm getting sick of losing. But the counselors tell me I'm still a winner!