notes from the midwest

a) My cousin E says she has a cough, and grandma asks what she uses for cough medicine "Maker's Mark" she says, and goes on to talk about her mother telling her the dresses she brought for the funeral were inappropriate. "They'd be appropriate once you lost some weight E, but you'll have to get something new". E just lost an uncle and a grandmother. My mom asks her "how do you do it?" referring to putting up with her mother.

"straight up, no ice."

b) E's grandfather (the one not related to me) has a collection of the family's urns in his closet. His sister is right next to a monkey that claps it's hands (it's holding cymbals) when you put a quarter in it.

c) my uncle, an avid fisher, gets the last laugh from the grave. He once had a stroke while at a fishing tournament, and decided to finish the tournament before going to the doctor.

When he got his terminal diagnosis, he went fishing despite doctors orders to not use his shoulder (the tumor ate away at the bone, and it could break at any minute). He ended up passing on less than a week later. He is being cremated, and his ashes will be put in a tackle box. Not a brand new tackle box, but the one he has used for years. RIP Larry.

Further notes that aren't funny and may only be interesting to me below

Death is odd. My friend Jim died 2 weeks ago Friday. I hadn't seen a whole lot of him since high school, although he'd be at my friend's house semi regularly. Unfortunately I didn't know Jim as well as I should have. I was still pretty rocked by his death, because he was the kind of guy that would reach out to everyone and be their friend. I don't have sufficient words to memorialize him here, I don't want that to be the focus right now. My point is, it's a true testament to Jim that, although I wasn't one of his closest friends, I was still pretty effected by his passing.

Larry is the same way. I've only seen him a dozen times in my life. I'll still miss his humor at every family gathering from here out. The guy was absolutely hillarious. Obvious point, the above tackle box story.

And yet, I don't feel I can properly attend these funerals. Most of Jim's friends had known him since elementary school. They tell stories and I don't really have much to offer. Larry's funeral is going to be hard as well. 4 of my mother's siblings (as well as her parents) lived in Springfield for a majority of their lives. The brother who hadn't lived in Springfield could still fly up regularly. So my dozen+ cousins have known each other pretty well their whole lives, I have been apart from the flock. I think I've only been to springfield 10-15 times in my life.

So as everyone tells their stories, I sit back and have an awkward laugh, and tell stupid jokes when I can. I think I just look stupid sitting there. What do I know, what do I contribute, why could I possibly be there? And so I feel bad, but as I feel bad I start thinking I'm making myself out to be a martyr, and I'm feeling bad for selfish reasons-as always. And so I launch into melodramatic inner monologue about the tragic loss of life etc etc. I start to briefly hate myself. And my neuroticism is complete. Chris asked how I was handling everything. Neurotic. Manic Depressive. Narcissistic. So about normal.

About 12 hours before I got on the flight to Illinois, I was in a car accident. Some dude trying to pass me while he was in the center (turn) lane. And they cited me, despite the fact that you can only be in the lane to make a left turn. I had a chance to get over 3/4 of the way in before he struck my driver side front wheel. I was merging pretty slowly, and I was going under 15mph in a 25 (so I had obviously begun merging early because I was probably driving atleast 35 if not 40 before I was merging). The guy didn't honk or break hard. I think he was coming out of the hotel and thought I was just driving slow and decided to pass me. But I shoulder the burden of guilt in this one apparently. I'm questioning whether I just remember it wrong, but I'm pretty sure I have it right.

3 more days until the funeral. I haven't been to work since the 23rd of May and I'm going a bit insane. I don't get back in town til the 7th of June. I'm looking to keep myself occupied with any labor I can around my Grandma's house. I guess my ingrained American Puritanical work ethic has cause my guilt to rise again. I wish I could enjoy my time off, because I don't get alot of it

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The Skateland Massacre

This weekend, I discovered that roller skating is about as fun as reading a blog. If you combine it with drinking alcohol, it turns into a whole other beast. Imagine how shaky I was on skates without drinking anything. It'd been a good 11 years since I've had any kind of wheels attached to my feet. By the 3rd or 4th beer, it took quite a bit of concentration to stay up. By the time I had 6, I was having alot of fun. And then I noticed I wasn't skating, but face down on the rink.

Of course I laughed it off. What else can you do? My face was pleasantly turning cool. Not quite the heat expected from my reddening cheeks. I thought that was odd. So, naturally, I wiped my face. Then I realized my whole arm was covered with blood. Epic.

I managed to make my way to the bathroom, leaving bloody hand prints and smears along the skateland walls. The title to the event was The Skateland Massacre, so I feel I added a bit of realism to the otherwise drab, unmassacred halls. The blood stopped pouring about 30 mins later. Awesome.

Now I have a UFC-esque cut about my right eye. This may seem like a horrible tale, but in reality, it was the funniest thing to happen to me in a long time. Mixing booze with rollerskates, I had an idea that something like this might happen. I was just hoping it would happen to someone besides me.

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Weekend update: First Friday + Random Sports failures

I braved another trip to First Friday this week. It was the first time in about 2 years that I hit that monthly downtown art show. It reminded me of how terrible downtown Phoenix is. Lesson of the week: Phoenix has no cultural identity. There is no sense of an artistic community. Instead there are about 20 different showings of wildly different styles (ranging from overexaggerated, bright, cartoony still life, to what I can only describe as dark, formless and as depressing as ASU's football team in the Dirk Koetter era). There was really nothing even worth writing about. I'm always a bit dissapointed when the best work at a show was photography. Photography is fine. It just doesn't capture the sense of spirit I look for in art.

Not to say that I didn't enjoy going. It's always fun to go out. Maybe I just have my expectations too high, or didn't hit the right spots. I was dreadfully tired anyway, which has a bad effect on my mood.

But don't even get me started on the music. 8 years ago, we atleast had a music scene. The Gin Blossoms, Jimmy Eat World, and a variety of other bands I wouldn't be caught listening to once grew up playing on Mill Avenue. I hate that kind of music, but atleast artists had a chance to develop a sound and grow. Now all you hear are amateurs. Shitty bands that are tight musically are alot better than shitty garage bands.

This weekend was a complete disaster in the sports realm. I was sitting pretty in the work NCAA pool. Apparently the sports gods felt the need to punish me for the chalk final four picks. I was up a healthy margin, needing either UCLA + UNC to advance to the finals, or UNC to win it all to pick up a nice spot of cash. Instead both teams get blown out, and I'll sit a few points out of the money. Looking back I should have picked Memphis over UCLA, but I still defend my UNC pick.

The gambling gods have also been spiting me after I cowered away from making a super bowl bet that would have payed off about as much money as I make in a year. On top, in the previous 6 months I built my online poker bankroll from $100 to $500, only to donk it all away. Don't play when you're tired, on tilt, or emotionally unstable kids. Played a SnG today and bubbled (as is customary with my gambling). I play conservative when I should be pushing things, and then I go ultra aggressive when people start sucking out and winning big pots. I did alright in the cash games, but had my strong hands cracked by ridiculous runner runner flushes\straights. 'Tis the nature of low limit poker online.

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