My Dreams Are Trying to Kill Me

We have a really crummy mattress and some nights are just ineffectual for sleeping what with the excruciating back pain and what not. So, when everyone's finally gone for the morning, I'll frequently plop on our smaller couch and nod off. Sitting up. I don't know why, I don't understand why I prefer up to reclined, and frankly it doesn't matter because 9 times out of 10, a really nice hour, hour-and-a-half nap is just the ticket and I can on about my day relatively refreshed. But then there are those '1 time out of 10' naps where dreams take over and I end up more tired than I was before. For one example, find the entry called "The Dream of What the F" and you'll see what I mean. Well this one was daffy almost to the point of making me wet the couch.

You see we have a set of wooden stairs that lead to the basement where our laundry room, storage room, and door to the garage are located. I've been up and down those things, in the dimly lit halo of the two lights probably a couple hundred times and I don't ever stop to think, "Say, I'd be willing to bet, self, that there's a creepy-ass ghost right behind you!" I don't think that because, in general, ghosts don't really scare me. I've seen a few and I can generally tell when a place is overrun with them. Our house isn't, ergo: no need to be concerned. Anyway, in this particular dream, I had just come up the stairs with a basket of laundry when I realize I've left the light on in the laundry room. So I set the basket down, and as I turn to go back down I see what is affectionately referred to as a shadow being crouching on the steps glaring at me.

Most shadow beings that I've heard about or seen on TV are typically just shapes, no real distinguishable forms to indicate human features. Sure, some have maybe an arm or a head that looks pretty right, but not always. This one, however was clear as day: full body outline, perfect features, and the size and shape of a little child. It just sat there with its hands out at me and as I saw it, this piercing wail like a train whistle erupted from its head like an alarm. I could do nothing more than scream back at it in such utter terror that I honestly felt tears welling up in my dream eyes and my real eyes.

I jerked awake and just sat there, dumbfounded. I had only been asleep for maybe 20 minutes, I had the TV on to SportsCenter, but the volume was really really low, so I'm sure it wasn't a noise from that. I sat there and looked around making sure someone hadn't gotten in somehow; checked the phone (no caller ID), and my cell... nothing. I gathered myself and decided I probably ought to check the stairs and the laundry room just to be sure... hey, when you're a believer, you're a believer. Went out the door, down the steps, into the laundry room, looked around, went out and back up and, not surprisingly: nothing. I was just a bit disappointed but relieved just the same.

I didn't go back to sleep, by the way.

The Halloween Post

Well, boos and ghouls, tomorrow is officially Halloween, and, according to our glorious weather pattern, possibly also the first day of winter. I kid, of course, but thanks to the outskirts of what was hurricane Sandy (now more affectionately referred to as 'Super Storm'), we're going to be coated with clouds and cold rain. Not exactly the most ideal situation in which to be wrangling three kids through neighborhood streets for Tricks or Treats. So, I think our back-up plan might be in order.

The kids' school has what's called a 'Trunk-or-Treat' in the parking lot. Basically, for those who don't know what these are, it's a ring of vehicles manned by people who serve treats right from their trunks. Ya know, like tire irons, empty bottles, oily tarps, and Mafia victims. It's wonderful and the kids just love it! Okay, I'm kidding. They doll out candy and the like and make it a safer alternative for kids who might not be able to wander the streets due to either weather or because there are some freaky folks out there. However you look at it, Trunk-or-Treat is a lot of fun and -at least last year- the kids got twice as much candy doing that as they did wandering around and we hit a large chunk of a big neighborhood. I know what I'd rather do. Besides, they have games, donuts and coffee, and the herd gets shuffled through far more quickly and we're home in half the time. It's a win-win!

But then we get to hear about it: "But DAD! We want to walk around! We don't CARE how cold and wet it is! We're NOT gonna get sick! You're STUPID!" Ugh... I can't wait for that conversation. It's not like they don't get to wear their costumes and look cool for all their friends (many of which will actually be at the Trunk-or-Treat, anyway). Besides, I'm getting too old to meander around in the freezing wind and rain. Not that the weather bothers me so much, it's just the whining voices coming from the kids who will get three houses in to the night and beg to go to Trunk. I know how this works.

So, I think we're going to do this the easy way. Candy is candy no matter how you beg for it. HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 

The one about what's good on TV.

I don't typically go around projecting my likes and dislikes of television shows, I just don't really think anyone cares and I feel the same about those who ramble on to me about the same. But, I figured for one time only, what the hell. Heck, maybe even you like some of these, too!

Doctor Who - If you're not a fan, or even just a casual viewer, I implore you to give this show a once over just to see what you think. And no, you don't have to have a working knowledge of Who's past to tune in. I mean I guess it helps to know that The Doctor is a time traveler who does so in an old Police Call Box, and frequently travels with a companion or two. But that's really the extent. Try it out once and let me know what you think. It's on a hiatus right now till the Christmas special, but you'll typically catch it Saturday nights on BBC (which is Charter channel 100). If you want to see some of last season's episodes, WGVU airs them I think Thursdays at 11pm. Great show, great writing, and Matt Smith is just a joy to watch.

Survivor - This is one of those reality shows that managed to escape the inundation back a few years ago when it seemed nothing else was ever on. I'm not going to explain the premise since I'm relatively sure you've all at least read about it. And I'll even admit that even though I enjoy the show, there have been a few seasons that I couldn't get into because of the vapid characters. This season is quite good though and if you like shows that really do feel quite real and have a bit of a human element, then maybe you'll like Survivor. Besides, Jeff Probst is a pretty cool host.

Elementary - If you like mysteries that, so far (three episodes in) rival most of what CSI has had to offer over the past few seasons, then you'll love Elementary. Just because his name is Sherlock Holmes (Johnny Lee Miller) doesn't mean that he's a fluffy, out-of-touch codger, even if he is a Brit with a bite. He acts like classic Holmes only in his style of deductive reasoning and penchant for acting in solitude. Beyond that, he fits perfectly into modern story lines and present day crimes. His Watson is Lucy Liu and even though I'm not a huge fan of her work, she is really great in the roll of a substance abuse counselor/former doctor and plays off Miller's idiosyncrasies really nicely. I highly recommend this new show and it airs Thursdays at 10 on CBS.

Parks and Rec. - This show has really fallen into its own over the past few seasons, and so far this newest one -where Leslie Knope (Poehler) is finally a Pawnee city councilwoman- has jumped right into the funny. Nick Offerman as Ron Swanson, Aubrey Plaza as April Ludgate, Chris Pratt as Andy Dwyer, and adam Scott as Ben Wyatt are consistently funny and round out one of the consistently funniest shows on TV.

The Big Bang Theory - What can I say about this show that everyone doesn't already know: the life and times of four genius nerds and their ridiculously hot neighbor... not to mention a new wife, an awkward girl friend, and Outer Space! Just all round awesomeness and supreme hilarity. Sadly, I came in late to this show (two seasons ago), but I have since remedied that and have caught up on all the ones I've missed. This show is so much fun to watch and I can just see myself hanging out with these people. Wonderful show.

The Simpsons-Family Guy-American Dad-Archer - All cartoons and all great in their own right. Sure, The Simpsons has taken a more slippery approach to comedy lately making a few episodes more just miss than home runs, but it's still a great show for how long it's been around. Family Guy and American Dad are two of Seth McFarlane's trio that air on FOX Sundays and though both are still rife with Pop Culture and overtly Right Wing humor, I have to admit that American Dad has gotten far funnier over the years and has become one of my favorite shows. Archer is just about perfect as an adult toon with a superb voice cast and just as rabidly filthy humor as you're likely to find. No word yet on when the new season starts, but I suspect November.

The Walking Dead - Season three started with more action and zombie slaughtering than nearly the whole of last season, and that's great because I know I'm not the only one who was getting sick to death of the farm and Carl's inability to stay in the house. He's now just as kick-ass as his dad Rick, and both share a snarling loathing towards their mom/wife and I know for a fact that that ire isn't going anywhere soon. I'm not real fond of her either, so, I'm okay with that. The ragtag band of survivors have finally found themselves somewhere to hole up in a somewhat deserted prison, but all isn't what it seams and things are about to go south really quickly. Michonne and her walker pets is now a permanent member of the cast and it's nice to not only see a new African American cast member, but one who is just epic with a sword. Did I mention pet walkers? So cool. Watch this show Sundays at 10 pm on AMC.

Comic Book Men - I am a HUGE Kevin Smith fan, and this show is the perfect outlet for his irreverent and highly addictive humor. He hosts the PodCast part of the show, but ultimately it focuses on his store, 'Jay and Silent Bob's Secret Stash' in Red Bank New Jersey. It's a a comic book and collectibles store where four of Smith's life-long friends work and otherwise take care of the place. It's basically 'Pawn Stars' focusing on the world of comics and its like media. It's funny, often times poignant, and sometimes heart-warming. It's a great show and airs right after The Walking Dead at 11:30.

So there ya go. Yeah, I watch a few more shows, but this is the bulk. Now, go watch more TV, fools!

The Dream of What The F?

Yup. That's the title you're getting for this one. And I just remembered that I had this utterly bizarre dream last night and I figured I'd share it with you. Because why not?

Before I get into it, it helps to know that I am a huge Doctor Who fan. That's really all you need to know since this dream has everything to do with Time Travel. Oh, and it's through my eyes as I'm watching it unfurl before me. Maybe I need to stop eating ice cream sandwiches before bed.

So the scene (dream) opens with me looking down at the floor where the body of a little girl lay in a pool of blood. And by little girl, I mean like under 10. And this was almost enough to jar me awake, but I stayed asleep and the horror only continued. From stage left walked The Doctor (the Matt Smith current version), and looked stunned and saddened by the victim. He looked at me and asked if I had any idea how it happened. I sighed and nodded, but I knew (as did he) that the blood wasn't on my hands.

I surveyed the room with The Doctor looking for any kind of clue that might help in the investigation. I might have known the answer, but for reasons that would become obvious soon enough, I wasn't talking. The Doctor didn't seem frustrated, in fact the contrary: he knew I knew, but he also knew I had my reasons for not giving away what I knew. And so we looked. As I knelt I found a ripped bit of cloth clasped in the little girl's dead hands. It was a dark gray and looked to be tweed. Hmm...

The Doctor then, after seeing the concern on my face, decided it might just be for the best if we boarded the TARDIS and just went back an hour to see what led to her death. I agreed, and we went inside. I didn't get any kind of description of the innards of the TARDIS as I had closed my eyes in the dream. So we hit the time stream and ended up right back in the same room but roughly an hour earlier (Timey Wimey, ya know). So there we stood, watching the little girl playing on the floor with a man dressed in a tweed coat and bow tie. If you're a Whovian you can see where this is going. It was the Doctor himself. He turned and looked at himself and me and said that he had to kill the girl because it was his sister, also Galifreian, and she was destined to become a horrible tyrant who would decimate and entire planet. The Doctor himself had seen the future and gone back to kill his own sister. He was weeping, and at this point so was I in the dream. The Doctor who was with me nodded, because he already knew. I tried to argue that changing her was a better idea than killing his own sister, but the both said that her timeline was a fixed point and this was the only way. I cried and cried...

And then woke up.

What the F?

The Drive-In B-Movie Classic: Revenge of the Boxelder Bugs

This article kinda goes hand-in-hand with the previous one because thanks largely to the, "Summer That Wouldn't Die", we get infested -once again- with the nuisance beetle called the Boxelder Bug. I'm telling you, Nature, if you'd just make up your damn mind a little sooner and maybe settle Fall in like you're supposed to, these little pests wouldn't be an issue. But nooooo... you've got to give an already warn out and lengthy season one last hurrah because you owe it money or something. Stay classy, Nature.

Anyway, Boxelder Bugs. So yesterday it was like nearly 80 degrees out and as I was hanging outside waiting for the kids to get home from school I notice a veritable swarm of these filthy insects hovering everywhere and landing on anything they please, including the side of the house that faces the sunniest part of the landscape, and the car. Oh, and just in case you're wondering what I'm talking about, the following is a picture of said unwanted intruder:

They're not really harmful or anything, and evidently they are herbivores so they likely won't sink their mouth-parts into your precious human blood supply, but that's not the point. What they are -like so many of Earth's other worthless organisms that I won't get into right now (I'm looking at you, giant wasps)- are pointless and stupid. I guess they just congregate to mate or something. Look, I don't know I'm not an enti... entymo... Bug Scientist. What I do know is that anything that collects in that high of numbers has got to be up to something. I have my suspicions that eventually there are going to be enough of these critters hanging about to slowly, and without much of a struggle by the caught-unawares human population, take over the World.

I've got my eye on you, Boxelder Bugs... Also I'd like you to meat my friend Hard Frost. He'll be in town real soon. Your days are numbered. 

Look, Michigan, Just Be Stinkin' Fall Already, Huh?

If Michigan had any problems at all (and I'm not implying that it does- even if we all know that it really, really does) then it's the exceptionally wacky weather. And it never fails to do the same stupid thing every... SINGLE... Y E A R! And what is this stupid thing of which I speak? Indian Summer. Yeah, I'm sure that's not the appropriate name for it, but you know what I'm talking about: Fall hits, as it should, at the tail end of September, then the weather gradually begins to cool properly; both days and, especially, nights, and then BLAMMO! suddenly we run T-Bone into high 70's and potential 80's all over again. This, friends, sucks!

If you're reading this properly on the day I posted it, then it's Wednesday, October 3rd. Today it's supposed to be wet, kinda crummy, and around 65. Okay, that's Fall... I like this. Oh, but wait... let's look at tomorrow, shall we? Lemme check News Chanel 3. Oh, there it is: 78. What? SEVENTY EIGHT? Are you kidding me? Wait, wait... can this week be salvaged? Yeah... and herein lies the real issue: Thursday through Sunday: low 50's. This is exactly how people get sick. Don't get me wrong. These are the temperatures our Fall is supposed to be... but not the stupid 78 and then the near thirty-degree drop the next day. Each and every time this happens, inevitably, one of our kids gets sick. And that kid's name is Charlie.

I just got out of a bad relationship with an illness. We decided to separate and see other people. It was amicable and we'll probably still be friends... but I doubt it. Anyway, Charlie gets back from 5th Grade Camp today around noon and the chances are pretty good that his immune system is a bit out of whack since he was outside a bunch. So couple that with the upcoming 'Indian Summer' day and then toss in a huge temp drop over the following week and things could get a little messy. I don't think I'll get sick again, but I worry about Charlie a lot. I guess I'm gonna have to pump him full of Vitamin C and just hope it does its job.

So, in summary... stop being so Summery! See what I did there, Michigan? Yeah... you saw it.

It All Happened Thirteen Years Ago...

Well, technically, it all happened FOURTEEN years ago, and I'll tell ya why. Oh, and how...

It was March of 1998. No, admittedly I do not remember the actual day (and Amy is probably going to either roll her eyes or sock me for that one, both of which I'm sure I deserve) but I do remember the place. We -by we I mean my family and my then girlfriend, Amy- were going to Mountain Jack's for my step-dad's birthday. Previously in the evening (as I was living with my parents at the time for reasons I have no desire to discuss at this time) I told my mom that I wanted desperately to propose to Amy, but I didn't have a proper ring. Well, she did. She in fact had the wedding ring from when she was married to my dad, and really had no need to hold onto it any longer and informed me that I could use it as the Engagement ring. Well, I thought that was pretty cool. So we found a nice box and prepared for the evening to follow.

We got to Mountain Jack's (sadly, no longer there) and enjoyed our meal, all the while I sat fidgeting with the box just biding my time till dessert. Everyone knew what was coming except, obviously, Amy. Well, the time finally came. I got out of my chair, down on one knee -nervous like you read about- and opened the box in front of her as I proposed. She hid a look of puzzlement behind her look of bewilderment, said yes, and then looked at me with eyes of questioning concern. Why? Had I said it wrong? Did I fart? As it turns out neither. The box was empty!

Panic rippled across the table as everyone frantically looked around them. My sister ran to the car to make sure it hadn't fallen out there, and I fished through my pockets... all to no avail. Meanwhile, in the wings, the waiter stood poised with a bottle of Champagne like a nervous hamster. I have to hand it to him, he remained cool during the whole ordeal, unlike the rest of us. Finally, thank God, one of the two of us -Amy or I- located the ring directly under my chair. Apparently, as I was nervously opening and closing it, the ring had tumbled out. Crisis averted, we went on to dessert and the waiter swooped in with congratulatory alcohol.

And that, kids, was how it all went down.

Now I know I haven't been the best man in the world, Lord knows that's true, but I have been a better man because Amy said yes to me. My life took a huge U-Turn and headed back down the right path when I finally gave myself to her and hasn't strayed much since. Thirteen years ago I realized what it meant to love, be loved, and be in love, and I owe my life and soul to Amy. God allowed me to be with her, and because of that, I am happy.

Happy Anniversary, Amy.    

My whole head is leaking.

Aaaannd... I'm sick.

Never fails. That first month back to school and one of my kids brings me a special treat in the form of a cold. Well, I guess it's highly probable that I got this version from any number of sickly individuals at work, since I'm around them for a good portion of several days. And I do seem to remember one of the server girls all goopy and yuck. Whatever the case, I have a head-full, a chest-full, and a nose leaking like a busted spigot. Yay me.

What I don't want is for my oldest, Charlie, to get sick. When he get's sick -and he does yearly- his sick gets really, really bad. In fact, last year the poor kid got Pneumonia and he was a hot mess for almost a month. You see, since he was born premature, his immune system isn't nearly what it ought to be. Anyway, he woke this morning saying his throat was sore and I immediately went into High Alert. I do not want this kid illin'. First off he has 5th Grade Camp in a few weeks and I want him well for that, and secondly I'm not loving the potentiality of him going through Pneumonia again. So I gave him an allergy pill -hoping for the best- and backed it up with a giant dose of Vitamin C. And now we pray...

See I would gladly take me being sick every single day for a year just to avoid Charlie getting sick at all. It just kills me to watch him suffer. And last year was a suffering, let me tell you. So, I am honestly hoping the Big Man Upstairs has this well in hand. Because I'm prepared to go through with my end of the bargain.

Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom Presents: In The Lair of the Parking Lot Gull

**Please Imagine This Being Read in the Style of Richard Attenborough**

The sun slowly crests over meandering cars on the increasingly busy Westnedge Avenue. The glare indicates the bright, warm day ahead and the temperatures gradually increase toward what is designed to be a rather balmy September afternoon. And keen listeners can just make out the harsh cry of one of nature's most mysterious avian creatures: The Parking Lot Gull.

Okay, so now that the scene is set, let's step back a bit. I had a few errands to run this morning after the kids were carted off to school, but first I was craving some McDonald's breakfast. I haven't had any in a good while, and I figured it was time. Sounded like a good enough reason to me.

I whisked through the Drive-Thru and acquired my goodies, and I realized my next stop was the children's school. I had a few things to drop off but I wasn't about to either eat while driving or eat in the parking lot of said school since the food would likely have gotten tepid by then, anyway. So I hoped over to the Harding's right down the way and parked there. Seemed pretty empty; I didn't relish the idea of some passerby glancing my way as I inhaled my breakfast. Well, it seemed almost empty, for just a few yards away, and approaching fast enough that one might assume that these creatures could sense that food was present, was a flock of Parking Lot Gulls. Now to folks here in the Great Lakes State, this is no surprise; Parking Lot Gulls really ought to be our secondary State Bird. But it's the sheer numbers and repugnance of these flying creatures that flabbergasts me.

As I sat there calmly wolfing down my food, I'd occasionally glance over at these monstrosities. They looked as if they were seconds away from pouncing on me and piercing my jugular vein with their wicked bills. One of them in particular was pacing by my car with such a look of disdain and ire in its eye that I could almost feel it sizing me up. Part of me wanted to toss out a crumb just to see what kind of bloody coup would ensue, but I resisted. I guess I was less interested in a full-on Gull melee than I thought. Every so often a few more Gulls would encroach on the main one's territory, and it would bray at them and flap its wings and they'd back off. I'd be willing to bet that if I were a child, or even outside my car, I'd be Tippi-Hedroned right there in the Harding's parking lot.

But the question remained, as I finally succumbed to the willies and drove off: where the hell do these things come from? Can they really be flying in every day from one of our many large lakes just to feed on potential scraps in store parking lots? Is this what passes for hunting for these crappy birds? What if they go home to chicks at the end of the day, do they regurgitate cigarette buts and french fries into their waiting maws? I have no idea, but something really needs to be done. Especially to the one that was giving me the stink eye.  

The Things I Learn Happen While I'm At Work

I'm finally at a job I really like. The last one I enjoyed I was at for the better part of 2 years (before the internal collapse and ultimate decision to move on), so it's very nice to feel that feeling again where I genuinely like having to go to work. I like being in a kitchen, I like the rush of a busy night, I like cooking, and I really like the people I work with. It's a win/win... however, all that being said, not being home some evenings has really taught me a few new and exciting things.

Case in point: I arrived home late (around 10:30) last night, and the house was all a-snooze so I was not made a party to all the activities that had occurred the previous afternoon/evening. Sleep was an exercise in futility, and I 'woke' with my wife at 5 (when she gets up for work) to begin hearing all the Front Page goodies from the day before. Apparently, Addison, my 6-year old, has either been adopted by, or has adopted herself into, a new family. This has been going on for a few weeks now leading up from the tail end of summer to the new school year. The family lives down the street and has a few children, but more specifically a daughter nearly Addie's age. She occasionally had been going to church outings with them, a week of Bible Camp, and a few evenings here and there. But the time spent with 'Family 2' has increased exponentially and Addie has taken to spending whole afternoons and much of Sunday with them. So as I listen to my wife, she tells me they went on a 2-hour bike ride yesterday that culminated in both a library visit (just down the street from us) and a reward at Dairy Queen (also just down the street). I was a little stunned since we hadn't given her any money, yet the family likes her company so much that she has basically been absorbed into their dynamic- which apparently translates into free frozen treats. So now I'm not sure how to handle this:

A) I tell Addie that this is very nice for her, but she can't take advantage of this situation and many nights she'll need to spend at home where she has responsibilities and a mom and dad who have nearly forgotten what she looks like.

or

B) Hey, it's one less mouth to feed.

You can plainly see our dilemma.

Who Needs Sleep? Part Dos.

Alright, friends and readers, this is getting just a little bit out of hand.
I'm not sure if it's because I'm drinking coffee at work around 4:30 to snap out of the fog I'm in that, as a vicious circle, is keeping me awake longer when I get home, or what. But it's definitely weaseled its way into annoying territory.

I got into work, a little cob-webby, but nothing too serious, and poured myself some coffee. I have to say, for a well-known restaurant, their coffee is garbage. Anyway, I finished the cup around 5:30 and felt pretty energized for the evening. Work was meh (Monday and a Holiday, after all), and I was done by quarter-after 10. So I left, came home, and went to bed. No dice.

I knew right way I wasn't especially tired just for the simple fact that I wasn't tired. It's not that hard of a feeling to decipher, kids. I figured I was likely still wired from work, and yes, that the coffee was still in my system. So I settled in to one of Nicolas Cage's finest cinematic schtick called Drive Angry. Turned out to be not entirely ridiculous; I like my super natural action with as much bizarre nonsense as anyone. It was done at 12:15. Guess what? Not even tired.

So, after rummaging through our plethora of channels, I landed on a Behind The Music Remastery of Genesis. There when another hour. Now at this point, I knew I'd be getting up with my wife at 5, so I was down to less than 4 hours of sleep. Well, I decided to force myself to nod off, even though I know this is even worse than slowly working into it naturally. It eventually worked probably 40 minutes later. And then 5 arrived. Blah...

I got up, separated the new school detritus into the kids' bags, wrote their names on various locations, and wasted a few minutes on the soul-sucking FaceBook. And then 7 rolled around and I had to rouse the sleeping beasts. Breakfast was had, clothes were changed into, and the trio was herded out the door. By this time -because I decided to eschew coffee this morning since I knew a nap was definitely needed- I was absolutely exhausted. Time for re-sleep mark 2.0.

I laid down from 8:30 till 11:30. And, despite a few lurid and arbitrary dreams, I feel okay. But I just know I'll need coffee tonight. Sigh...

Who Needs Sleep? No, You're Never Gonna Get It...

(With title apologies to Bare Naked Ladies)

For a few months now I've fallen into a bizarre sleeping pattern. It all stems from the fact that the bed mattress is old (we're talking 17 years or so), and it's the same mattress I had when I lived with my grandparents a few years before I met my wife and we got married. So, this thing might even be pushing 20 years. I guess I don't know how old it was when I moved there... Anyway, therein is the big issue. So why not get a new mattress, you might be asking yourselves? Because, nosy, they're expensive and I can count on 2 hands the number of things that are more important. Like beer. And probably things for the kids. But mostly beer.

So here's what's been happening: My wife rises from the sleepy pits of Snooze Town right around 5 to go to work, and I get up with her because at that point my back is in such agonizing ruin that I can barely even roll over. So I get up and head to the family room. We have one big couch and one that's about 3/4th's of a couch. The big couch is fine to sit on, but it's not my favorite. The smaller couch, however, is a little slice of Heaven. Typically, within a half hour after I sit upon it in the morning I am out light a light. And the sleep is not only good and refreshing (and yes, it's while I sit, not lie down) but its deep and really good. So this has become my doze haven and I typically do it every morning until the kids get up. This way at least I'm refreshed before I work my late shift at the restaurant. No problem, right?

Well, that's not entirely so. You see, while the sleep might be epic, the dreams I have are sometimes so hyper-realistic that I spend the rest of the day trying to remember them and decipher what went on. It's like I'm living a double life only deep in my subconscious. I have written a few down, and I really ought to be recording more of them because if I ever go completely mad it's gonna take a team of scientists to decode my nightmares to figure out while I'm now strapped in a padded room attempting to eat my feet.

So they say that the enemy of my enemy is my friend... So sleep is my enemy and my dreams are my enemy, so my friend is... I don't know where I'm going with this.

I'm too tired.

Some Cluttering Cruft.

I was rifling through some of my old file folders on the old computer this morning and I came across a comic that I tried to get running a year or so ago. It never really caught on, which is sad, because it's pretty cute. Horrific, but cute. Anyway, here's a look at the only two that made it out of my head and onto paper. Lemme know if they might be worth another try.

That's a lot of Dick.

I haven't read very much Philip K. Dick, but I'm about to remedy that really quickly. Why am I saying this? I'll tell you...

I was flipping around channels last night and 'The Adjustment Bureau' came on. It hit me that I'd never seen it, but I remember the TV ads when it was new to theaters about a year ago making it look pretty interesting. Also I can honestly say I haven't seen a Matt Damon flick that actively made me want to turn off the TV all together, so I thought I'd give it a chance. Well, I was sucked in from the first scene.
I don't know if any of you has seen it, but at its core it's a love story. I don't like love stories as a rule -I tend to typically stick to Horror and Sci-Fi with some action and humor sprinkled in. But something about this movie (I guess the small dose of Sci-Fi helped) really held my attention. Do we honestly control any facet of our destiny? Are our decisions -sometimes the seemingly mundane ones- made of our own free will at all? No one can ever really know; even us Christians owe a certain portion of our guided paths to The Lord. But still, how would we really even know we were being... manipulated unless we saw it first hand?

Well, those are questions best left to either God, or really good Science Fiction authors, and as it turns out, Dick was an amazing author. And the worst part is I didn't even know the story on which this film was based was written by him until the end credits. Sad.

So now it's time for more Dick. And that's all.

Stupid Scary Weed.

My computer desk sits directly adjacent to one of our family room windows. I like the view and I can peek out the window and make sure our house isn't actively being targeted by hooligans, debt collectors, or zombies. So it's nice. But right outside is a small weed patch that has slightly overgrown, and there's this tall bit that has stretched its way to the window. It's not ivy so it's not like it's adhered to the building. Instead, however, it waves in any little breeze and does its nature-type daily routine, which is to say nothing but exist and make chlorophyll I guess. But, this particular hunk of flora has another skill that it's quite adept at: scaring the crap out of me. When it's a bit darker, or the wind hits it just right, or the blinds are drawn in such a way, it'll shimmy and it looks just like someone or something approaching the window with sinister plans on its mind. Okay, I know that plants don't have 'minds' per se, but this thing is pretty good at thinking up camouflage with which to intimidate me into believing it's a phantom stranger or some type of escaped mental patient.

Which begs the question: why don't I just go out there and cut it. Look, I can't be breaking my laziness streak over just anything, okay? I'll get to it when it turns my hair white... er, my beard hair white. 

This is What This is.

So what is this? Don't I already have far too many Blogs as it is? Am I just a glutton for punishment? Have I even showered yet today? Well, the answer to all of these questions is: probably. But let's look at the first one: What is this. Well I'll tell you. I decided I really need a Blog that sort of gives me a bit of freedom to write about everything else. You see I do a Blog on my life's history, I do (sort of) a Blog with a comic, and I do a Blog where I write interesting and frightening stories, and a often add to a Blog about movie reviews. So, there are still little bits and pieces of everyday whatnot that get left out. And there you have it. And in case you're wondering where the name comes from (aside from exactly what it is), I used to do a mini-comic back in the day (15 years ago or so) that was called 'The Vacuum Bag' and I really dug the name. I brought her back from the dead, and luckily it was available! Yay for me! So now you know what it is and why it is. It'll get updated with my typical frequency, maybe once or twice a week depending on outside forces and such, but it'll be fun. Um... enjoy, I guess!