The Christmas That Almost Isn't

 I think watching this video accidentally ruined my brother's Christmas gift for me, dammit.

Still Alive

 

Yep.  I haven't caught the 'Vid yet, and neither has my brother who is a nurse's aid, and neither has my mother who never leaves home anyway.  I am still alive and kicking and not much to say except lockdown sucks but I'm Still Alive.

I was supposed to be back in Dallas by now.  Well, I guess, technically it looked like I would be spending a couple of years in Tulsa, thanks to a relocation program I qualified for, where they basically pay a large portion of your rent and they give you a monthly stipend if you come live in their shitty town.  There are programs like this in about ten cities I know of, a few in the Northeast (uh, a world of NO), but also some midwestern states and a couple of others in the south, but I applied to the Tulsa one because it was a.) only four hours from Dallas, which believe it or not is still a comfortable drive, and b.) well, there is no b, it was just free money.  Despite saving up more than I've ever had in my life, I still know a good deal when I see one, and having spent some time with a college guy in Tulsa a while back (now THAT is something I should write about... wow), I knew Tulsa was manageable.  Besides, I'd have just do my regular stuff during the week, and then occasionally on weekends gone to Dallas to hang out with the friends who are still there.

Then COVID-19 came along, and this nerd (me), who's read The Andromeda Strain more times than most Christians have read even just passages from the Bible, knew he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.  The Trump rallies there sealed it, as did learning about the *edit* Tulsa Race Massacre (not Juneteenth as I had previously written) thanks to HBO's Watchmen series, something I kinda knew about but didn't really grasp.  Tulsa's really hurting for an influx of residents, because they do not have a great reputation right now.

It's funny, I have been working remotely for nearly four years now, and I remember back when I was dating Dale trying to talk my boss in Lexington if I could work remotely for him since my laptop was better than the tower he had set up for me.  He always said that would not ever work.  He's called me twice since March asking if I was looking for work and offering a remote position.  And everybody works remotely and it won't go back to the old ways easily.  I wonder if my life would have been better if he'd offered me that back when I asked it?  I did not return his calls.

(Livejournal rose from the dead to remind me that today is Dale's birthday.  I know he is Still Alive.  I wonder if he even cares that I am.)

The job continues to go incredibly.  I have changed so much in my sound design, improving it as we get more and more tools.  I kind of get the impression that my immediate boss thinks I would fly the coop easily, but I do not intend to, unless something really incredible pops up.  I mean, I have applied to a few (A FEW, MEANING TWO) places, but I do not expect anything to come from them.  They were dream jobs, and that kind of things just never happens to me.

I'm just glad I am not stuck in some menial job like the phone bank I was training for before my current position was offered.  I get to be creative, and I get paid for it.  It's like playing for a living. It's like being on an E-Sports team without the groupies.

So why do I still feel kinda down sometimes?

Late Night Terrorism

That time when I was fifteen and wrote a letter to David Letterman and he read it on the air eventually and then I had to wait 33 years to see it again, thanks to a meticulous Youtuber digitizing lots of Dave's classic bits. 

I remember there was at least one more letter where they tore up the studio over a washing machine or something made by GE that stole a listener's money, so TECHNICALLY it became a running bit.

Empty World

I thought of maybe making one last post just in case I get the 'vid, because if I do I am a goner, and I will probably take my older brother and my elderly mother with me on the way out.  I am very mad because everything in my life was going swimmingly:  my job was firing on all cylinders, and yes I was hoping they would maybe move me back out to California, but I can only assume now that it's not happening, so I was going to just pick a place and move my meager belongings there.  Places I knew I could afford with what I am making now... Dallas, for sure, I wouldn't mind living there again.  Portland Oregon may be a bit of a stretch, but I have given up comics... still, a bit expensive now, no matter how much I loved it there.  My brother and a former work mate assures me that I would enjoy Denver, which was on the list but aside from the airport I've never been there.  BUT everything I've read about it makes me consider it, and it IS doable on this salary now.

Then this fucking virus came to and fucked all that shit up.  Move across country?  Not for a year now, thanks.  Maybe I can rent at Kelly's house in Louisville (with the GOD-FIBER-INTERNET), but moving out of state... when I might be needed to help take care of Mom if my older brother is exposed during one of his shifts at the hospital... to convince her stubborn ass to pack it up and move to Kelly's local house with me...

Pretty much I had a big balloon with the words "DREAM LIFE" printed on it, and it's been popped, and instead of exploding with glitter and confetti, it exploded with ectoplasm and diarrhea and potato bugs all over my face, leaving me with three seconds to blink, stare into the camera, and scream MOTHERFUCKSHITCUNT.

Sorry, that was a very lazy portmanteau-ish attempt at swearing to show my frustration.  I needed out of here.  Away from family obligations.  Back on my own.  And now I will almost be 50 before I am out of KY again.  

The good thing is, the bosses at work are happy with me, and accept the ridiculous situations I have to deal with, like emergencies with mom, or almost getting in a car wreck because ducks were crossing the road, or The Night The Cows Were Loose, when a fallen tree took an electrified fence down with it and a family of spooked cows gathered on Hatcher's Creek Road, blocking me from getting to the studio.

And of course there are the wild turkeys.  

Not the booze.  Just, turkeys, in the wild.  Not the plump meat baskets you find at Kroger, but svelte, sooty-winged avians that tread the earth like men, stalking, always stalking... sometimes you find a loner, feathers slickened from rain and shining like a leather jacket, but they usually run for safety.

Sometimes you find a gang.  And they were not scared of us before, and seem less so now.  Basically, avoid doing a Jets vs Sharks thing when you find a cluster of turkeys, they are mean fuckers.

So I guess I will just continue on.  Work is happy with me, and has always understood that my schedule will be weird as long as I am here in the KY sticks with family.  I'm being very fairly paid now.  I was just ONE MONTH from being completely out of debt, when I could start saving up and studying locations and apartments and moving in June.  Guess I am here for a bit longer.  Will finish Doom Eternal this week.  Maybe buy Animal Crossing?  I am not sure I have enough friends to make that work.  I will just relax.

I wish pot was legal here.

The Flu-zy

I expected some weight loss but not this... 25 pounds, all because my little brother gave me the Flu.

He called a few weeks ago asking to be taken to Urgent Care with a temp of 102.6.  Of course I rushed him out there.  On the way to his house, I passed two ambulances stopped at a farmhouse where cops were waving me past.  This was right when tales of this Coronavirus started popping up.

Rather than taking precaution like making him wear his shirt over his mouth or cover it completely with a bandana, we just went to the hospital, and he apparently had Superflu and three days later I came down with Captain Tripps too.  25 pounds later...

It's odd, because when I weighed this in SF I realized I could just keep doing the same thing and keep losing weight.  It took about six months of doing nothing special (okay, walking I guess) to get down to 290.  I wonder if I keep just being a bland and boring person, perhaps I can do it again.  Six months... right about the time I was planning on moving again.

Suddenly Doctor Who is good again.  I wonder if they can keep this up.

Well this is my favorite song right now