Update

There have been big changes in my life since my last post. Most importantly, I am now gainfully employed by the Kroger company. The job is so easy and right now its part time, but they have already assigned an aisle to me and that includes ordering and maintaining inventory. Only three other night shift stockers have this level of responsibility, out of fourteen. Of course, this means more responsibility but with the same pay. The important part, however, is the fact that everyone who has this level of responsibility is either a supervisor, assistant supervisor, or has worked there for at least 5 years.
I know I was supposed to have graduated from medical or business school by the time I was 30, but it just didn't work out that way. I am okay with that, although my list of regrets is exorbitantly long. World needs doctors, teachers, ditch diggers and grocery stockers too. And there really are paths to advancement with Kroger. And it is a good company to work for. The work itself is the easiest work I have ever done, we get good discounts, decent pay, and lenient management. Since I never want to work in a factory again I am very happy with my job. Also, it is possible to transfer from here to a store in another city, like Chattanooga.


P.S. I can accept and deal with constructive criticism nowadays. Did anyone like my attempts at poetry? These are some of my first written works in years so I am way out of practice.

Toadstool

This grew in our front yard over night. I found it interesting.

WARNING: MAY CONTAIN POETRY

Just an Old House

Nobody lives there anymore.
He just got too old, that guy.
They found him on the floor
where he expected he would die.
Nobody lives there anymore.

No boys climb through the trees' branches
no girls being pushed on swings
there can be no second chances,
only the emptiness time brings.
Nobody lives there anymore.

Five carved stones beside the lake
tell his story of pain and loss.
Four young ones' lives cholera did take
Mother, too, paid life's dear cost.
Nobody lives there anymore.

Haiku!

At lunch in the cave

it was damp and dark in there

but my heart smiled.

Second chances are
freely given, but how much
does just one more cost?

I don't know what I
would do if I met a blue
smelly kangaroo.

They say: sit still, be
quiet, don't cough, don't burp, don't
fart, or we will know.

Chattanooga is
not that far away. I get
closer day by day.

Slept all day. Woke up
around four. Still got problems.
Going back to sleep.

AJ will play Wii,
you see, with me all day. He
may stay, you say? Yay!

Have you ever felt
like a stranger in your home?
Or a tourist?

Words are for Nerds

Less words, more pictures

Books!

Stagnation!

I feel like my life is one big mudhole, and I am trying to walk through it but no matter how many steps I take I am just not moving forward much at all. I have been working more hours, but that job makes me feel like a loser. I read books, and right now I am wrestling Les Miserables into submission. I seem to be drawn lately to books that feature some sort of redemption for a character.

I hate writing posts like this. Too much of a downer. Don't read this one.

Irony!

Friendly Neighborhood Armed Robbery

A few nights ago I was up late reading a graphic novel-- The Gunslinger Born -- adapted from the book Wizard and Glass from Stephen King's The Dark Tower series. Around midnight I heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots. There were five or six shots in all and they sounded close by. I jumped up and ran to look out my back door and I saw a young man running across yards and I could hear people shouting. I told Dora to sit on the floor and I went out, baseball bat in hand, to "investigate". We live right beside the Sheriff's Department and I heard sirens literally within two minutes at most. I did not see anyone whom appeared hurt so I just watched the situation progress from my backyard. In no time at all there were eight or nine police cars, an ambulance, and a fire engine at the scene and the police started putting up the yellow "crime scene" tape. So I walked down to the street to get some photos and I found out that a man had been shot five times. A few minutes later, right after the ambulance left, I saw the LifeFlight helicopter fly overhead on its way to pick up the victim and take him to Vanderbilt. The next day we found out that the man who was shot is a guy that Dora knew from childhood. He had been approached by five teenagers, refused to give them his wallet, and was shot five times in the back and arm in his own driveway. All of this happened within 200 feet of where I was sitting. I took the photo you see above from my backyard and the trailer in the photo is the victim's. Most of the police were to the left of the fire engine, but by this time they were just standing around talking to each other so I took a picture of the cop that was taking statements from witnesses.

I had thought that we got away from this sort of thing when we moved here. Ever since this happened I find myself looking over my shoulder and peeking around corners when I am outside. I hope this was an isolated, random event but I am going to be paranoid for a while.

Join the Club!

Fishing!

I live about a quarter mile from the Duck River now, so I decided to find a way down to the river through the woods so I can feel like a country boy. There is just a small square of wooded land left there between the river, the county jail, and the trailer park, but I see deer, raccoons, and other critters every time I go. Last week I just dug up about 10 worms from around the yard and grabbed a fishing pole and went fishing, old school style. I caught 3 little pumkinseeds, 1 baby Bass, and a big fish that I couldn't identify.

Religion!

History!

Two weeks ago Dora had a history class project due. Needless to say we waited until the last day and so we had to tour Rippavilla, the Atheneaum, and the Polk Home in one day. We actually did all three tours in four hours, from 9 am to 1 pm. Then I had to write a one page paper about each one, due the next day. No big deal for me but I feel like I am causing Dora to miss out on her education by doing her work for her. Anyway, I had fun at every place, I even had to help the tour guide at Rippavilla remember some Generals' names.

Some more ramblings

I have a really crappy job. Its not that the job is hard, or even that I don't enjoy it (I do), its just that I never saw myself as a short order cook. It does fit perfectly in my schedule though. Of course my schedule is fairly open, other than doing all of Dora's school work. Well, maybe not all of it, but just this week I have written a five-page book report on Tuesdays With Morrie, a three page essay about Brittany, and typed a six-page study guide for her history test. But anyway, back to my job, the hardest part is when business slows down at around 9am, because that is when Abbie (Dora's sister, she and her husband own the restaurant/store where I work) gets really bored and proceeds to fill me on every tiny little detail of every aspect of her life and asks me completely insipid and inane questions about "what she should do". What she should do is grow up and get a real job. I am so sick of life here. Now that my family moved away I feel like the idiots are taking over. It is both funny and sad to sit back and watch the store hemmorage money because the owner's children steal everything thats not nailed down. I have already chased off one of Abbie's daughter because of how much she was stealing. It just made me mad so I confronted her about it and now she doesn't come to the store, good riddance.

I have found so many items that I saved from my life in the boxes of stuff I got from the family's former house in Columbia. I found a Transformer toy that Momma got me when I was six years old. I found a bunch of other cool stuff but I can't remember it all now.

Last week at Columbia State the Student Association had an easter egg hunt with some pretty good prizes. I won a $10 gift card from Barnes and Nobles and also a copy of The Great Gatsby with an audio CD.

Friday I have to drive to a mental hospital in Jackson to see Cristan. I hope to take a side trip to the Shiloh battlefield, too. Cristan is not really improving, she is just memorizing what the therapists and counselers want to hear and saying it back to them. They are getting ready to diagnose her with Borderline Personality Disorder which is an "official" mental illness.

I hate everything here.

First post

This is my first post and I don't really know what to talk about so I will just ramble for a minute. Sunday I sold the broke-down Camaro we had on Craigslist for about 4 months. I sold it to some young guy from Cheatham Co. who showed up with a truck and trailor and paid 700 dollars for the car and had it loaded up and gone in about 10 minutes. So that was good. Last Monday, the day I got back from Chattanooga, we went to a weekly trivia game held at a restaurant in Columbia, JW Rays. I did not realize it was a team game. One team had nine rich people and the other team had seven people who were friends with the owners of the restaurant. Then there was me and Dora on Team Rankin. We actually came in second place and won a free appetizer coupon. The "friends" team won after only missing one single question the whole game. The questions were pretty hard too. One round we had to list the full names of all seven main characters from "Saved By The Bell". The winning team got all seven first and last names- all by themselves I am sure. The only one I remembered was AC Slater. Oh well maybe next time the questions will be about the Civil War or nuclear physics or something I actually know about.