Hallelujah

I told the truth, I didn't come to fool ya.

I would like to have a piano.

Dehydrating Fuji apple slices with cinnamon sugar.

Honing my Photoshop skills: cropping, converting to black and white, adding sepia. I am pretty proud of my work so far.

Feeling comfortable with everything. Not sure if that's out of ignorance or if it's really justified, but it's working for now.

Had a dream last night that Donna got rid of Adam and Eli. I arrived for Christmas, looking forward to seeing the dogs, and they were gone. I was heartbroken.

The burn pile from Thanksgiving is still smoldering. I noticed smoke rising from it when I was out today, sanding the handrail I installed a few weeks ago. The handrail is now nice and smooth. It's a Douglas Fir board, milled from a tree felled on this property.

Off to Denver next week; I will be deposed for the Quiznos lawsuit. I am absolutely unconcerned about this, in spite of being warned of how Q's lawyers will try to intimidate me. I have been through much worse, I'm certain. What can a lawyer do to me in a deposition except throw words at me? I probably have more words than him, although I know what my role will be: short, succinct answers. Don't offer any information; just answer the questions. Easy.

I have had my heart broken several times: by a girl; by my brother's death; a few others I won't mention.

I had two fingers amputated in a machine.

I had my two front teeth broken off at the gumline when I was 11.

I didn't have my own room when I was a kid. For a few years I slept in the dining room. My bed was there, with a small desk in the corner. There was no privacy. The rest of the family slept upstairs. I think it traumatized me in some way. Maybe that's why I like staying home by myself so much. My own space is all I really want in this world. Music playing, apples dehydrating, a laptop to spew stream of consciousness across the Internet. Catharsis, catharsis. It makes me feel good deep down.

As an adult I've been skinny (140 lbs) and kind of fat (205 lbs). That's quite a swing. I was really skinny from drug abuse when I went on active duty in the Navy in 1968. Working is ships' boiler rooms for two years in 110 - 125 degrees F. kept me skinny for a while. On average after that I guess I always stayed between 160 to 170 lbs. Quiznos really pushed me over the edge; Kalimba Grille made sure I didn't climb back up. It's hard to lose weight at my age; the metabolism doesn't respond well anymore, and I don't move around enough to compensate. And everything tastes so fuckin good.

Caity is making some sort of guacamole fajitas tonight; I am invited for dinner. I will surprise the Finchs by showing up with a plate of brownies and dehydrated Fuji apple slices with cinnamon sugar. I'll also return their cinnamon sugar, which I borrowed today while they were all out somewhere.

Ryan Adams uses toy instruments on at least one song, "Rainy Days", a masterpiece if ever I heard one. Nick is right; Adams is a genius, probably of the tragic variety. The more I hear the better I like him.

Don't sell the Beach Boys short. Listen to "Pet Sounds", there's some beautiful music there.

Listen to Beethoven's later string quartets, written in his last years of life. Pretty far out stuff; his contemporaries didn't understand it and rejected it. So much is like that; if it's not time, then it doesn't matter how good it is, whatever it is. Just do it, leave it there, and let someone else down the road figure out what it's worth, if anything.

Just have your own space, enjoy your own company, do the things only you like to do and be satisfied with it if you can. (The preceding is the secret to happiness. You heard it here first. You're welcome.).