I will put contact info here soon –

As some have guessed I am at odds over whether or not to continue journaling. It has in the past kept me going and I have composed many a whimsical tale. However there has been much woe and bitterness. Friends have come and gone.

I am taking a hiatus. I may return – I will likely not.

This song has been in my mind lately.

yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead
yesterday is a promise that you've broken
don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes
this is your life and today is all you've got now
yeah, and today is all you'll ever have
don't close your eyes
don't close your eyes
this is your life, are you who you want to be
this is your life, are you who you want to be
this is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
when the world was younger and you had everything to lose
yesterday is a kid in the corner
yesterday is dead and over
this is your life, are you who you want to be
this is your life, are you who you want to be
this is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
when the world was younger and you had everything to lose
don't close your eyes
don't close your eyes
don't close your eyes
don't close your eyes
this is your life are you who you want to be
this is your life are you who you want to be
this is your life, are you who you want to be
this is your life, are you who you want to be
this is your life, is it everything you dreamed it would be
when the world was younger and you had everything to lose
and you had everything to lose


A response to these lyrics on Songmeanings.net.

by Christianna on 10-16-2004 @ 11:45:58 PM
This is a nice meaningful song. It is melancholy-but upbeat too. This song asks you if you are happy with your life right now, is it everything you thought it would be? Has life lived up to your expectations or let you down? This song points out that whatever you have today good or bad, it's all you have. You cannot have the future before it comes. You can live in the past if you want to, but you cannot have the past either. The past as this song says is dead and over. Some people think there is something wrong with living in the past. True, it's not a good thing to do, but sometimes it's your only relief when all you have is an emptiness because of things you have lost. I think you ought to live in the past sometimes and I think you should cherish and remember the past always. I have lived in the past before and will again. It is very comforting, although it is a dead end. I first heard this song on a snowy winter day against the background of snowy farm fields and huge cemetery. Not quite the atmosphere to cheer you up. This song is really haunting.

Goodbye.

10/1/05 – Climbed Mount Hugo
10/2/05 – Observed a club meeting – standoffish know it all types – won't join
Work week – Motors, box assembly, filing plastic
10/8/05 – Attempted campout with Cough – took complimentary wine samples though
10/9/05 - Return early from weekend disaster
Work week – Get glove caught in something. "I am a Vulcan. There is no pain." Light duty.
Will see a friend at some point.
May expand upon all this.

I found Victor Falls, finally. Three and forty feet drops. Some garbage strewn around, folding chairs, soda/beer cans, etc. Maple and cedar stumps. I think I could have stayed longer.

I went to a library and read a book on Unsolved Mysteries (Bermuda Triangle, King Arthur, Noon Blue Apples, Joan of Arc, etc) until they kicked me out due to closing hours being 5:30. Libraries and other areas need to stay open later so I can hang around longer and not have to return back to that rotting house. Never fret though the next town over had the same book and they were available for public use until 9 pm.

Who needs McDonalds when there's Taco Time?

Mmmm - Bye for now!

I have bad paper cuts from packaging. They are similar to those I would get at the post office only there I would be earning twice as much.

Screaming again down the hall. Have I lost the previous train of thought?

I did a search of the livejournal site. There used to be a ratio of 1 to 1, active to inactive. Now the ratio is 1 to 2 1/3. Do you know how many journals are blank with user info listing friends being news and maintenance? I think Brad Fritz knew the peak had come so he sold out.

The Invasion hurricane reminds me of Bowfinger where the aliens come down to Earth in large droplets ("Chubby rain"). Naturally they have a world domination agenda too.

There's a horror movie called "The Fog." The premise and message – don't let the fog get to you. It's nice and whatnot except that I came up with the idea and outline 15 years ago. I can hear Carol now, "But did you do anything about it?" Nope. Nothing. So someone else years later arrives at the same thought and makes a buck.

More screaming – it's not the fog though – damn. Someone had a Q-tip break off in their ear and nothing can get it out. No one can afford insurance to see a doctor. Oh but we make too much for government handouts.

To end - I have held on for too long. It is time to go and let go.

Damn panic attack.

I should call someone.

Time wise I am too early or too late.

My brother's right. Frank's right. And there's only so much remaining.

Ok so I have neglected my livejournal for about a week. I considered abandoning it in the wake of a fallout. The whole situation sickened me and I'd compose sincere letters to either clarify or remedy it only to think, "Why should I bother? That person does not care so why should I?" and thus delete the text and turn off the computer for a few days.

What is there to report? Well – I still have a temp job. It feels good to get away from that rotting house even though I am physically and mentally weak and some tasks sap what strength I have. Besides riveting I have helped with fish egg tray stands and electric motors. Sean thinks I should try for Fuji, folding large sections of metal. I may end up there if I keep showing up. This current gig is through a temp agency though and nothing is permanent.

Cough works long hours at minimum wage. Mother screams. There's no food.

I guess many things are still the same. My brother calls and wonders what's new, but there is nothing that has changed so we discuss the philosophy of money, something learned from a class he takes now at Cal Poly.

I made a call to Sibley on Thursday. I needed to speak to someone other than family, seeing as many problems stem from those left here. I tried to make it a two-way conversation as me rambling about how bad things are can be a bit too much. Actually I inquired about bankruptcy and whether or not it would be a good idea to file before Bush and Co takes it away next month. I need to stop by sometime – maybe on the way from a hike to Greider Lakes.

Yelling down the hall brings home a previous held notion that I should have headed to Goldendale for the weekend. Wine, the stars, camping, what more could I say? But funds are short so – I dunno. I suppose I shall have to be content with the hike to an area done years before.

Earlier in the week St. Kirk had proposed a hike to Crystal Lakes just next to the development previously surveyed the past month. Someone who had tagged along to that event would be coming along, but by the time we met up at the parking lot today he had changed his mind. We were looking for the red Odyssey but St. Kirk had his wife Karen's vehicle instead.

I brought along a windbreaker but did not need it. After various pit stops and small talk along the way we entered Mount Rainier National Park and soon reached the trailhead. Many years had past since Cough, Roy, and I did this hike, fifteen or so by best guess. Dorian and St. Kirk returned to Chinook Pass while the three of us pressed down to the lakes and to the highway. After a meal of Mexican food in Enumclaw we had returned home.

A blue Chevy Lumina left at the trailhead bore the signs of running headlong into a deer at high speeds. A note dated a week ago assured those reading it that it would be removed as soon as possible. The bumper had been sheared off and lay on the back seat. Airbags were deployed and the windshield supernovaed. They apparently tried to put on a spare or were driving on it either way they left it behind.

Up we went discussing politics, Alaska, Robert Xavier Boxburger, other hikes, biking, and wineries.

Boxburger repaired his deck before leaving to Ocean Shores with his son. They have a cabin out there.

St. Kirk biked across Alaska and seemed surprised at the friendliness of people he encountered. He remarked, "People kept stopping and asking if I need a ride. By the fourth time I said 'Sure why not?' However then they'd want to take me to their house for dinner. After talking I'd end up spending the night."

While biking to Missoula retracing the Lewis and Clark journey a racing bike team passed St. Kirk and my brother without the proper protocol. My brother put on the afterburners, passing all of them on the uphill over Alpowa Pass, and was waiting for them in Lewiston. St. Kirk added that he heard my brother was considering joining the Cal Poly team.

Hikes mentioned included Emerald Ridge and Klapatche Park off the abandoned West Side Road. Both are now many miles to reach, when in the mid 80’s one could drive up to the trailheads. No one has the funds or desire to maintain the roads anymore so they return to wilderness. I have to wonder how long it will be before Sunrise and Ipsut fall to the same fate.

Genetics were discussed with the whole science moratorium that has unofficially been going on under dictator for life G W Bush. I point out various priests who wrote letters to the editors about "Intelligent Design" and the "7 Day Creationists." The seven days, Adam and Eve, Cain, and Abel bit were basically fables to describe the fall of mankind due to disobedience to the Ten Commandments. Similar examples exist in the text, as at that time this seemed the best way to relate things to people, most things were oratory as opposed to written and thus told down through the years. St. Kirk mentions that "Intelligent Design" is the best way for failing Republican students to pass classes they would otherwise not understand.

Halfway in we had a choice to make, up or way up. Up and we reach Crystal Lakes, while way up meant Crystal Peak. St. Kirk says this is an easy one and we plod on through sub-alpine fir and cedar to the lower lake and then up and around a ledge to the upper one.

We ate some sandwiches and various snacks while the sun trued to break free of the clouds. For a moment it did but the swirling gray soon obscured the ball of hot gasses and the chill of autumn returned. The lake was much like other mountain ones I have been to but with fewer people and that’s always a plus for me, unless of course all of them are my friends and it’s a party of sorts. National Park status and a long drive prevent the mobs of weekend backpackers from trashing the place.

To the north were meadows of asters and occasional fir. To the east lay Crystal Mountain Resort and the Pacific Crest Trail. The southern horizon contained rocky masses, one of them Crystal Peak, with a ragged knife like edge. The Mountain sat in the southwest enveloped in clouds.

On the way back after lunch we discussed more of the same. At one point I smacked my stick hard against a stump but the rest in the trio did not get the message. Persons were bearing down on us from behind. They brushed by offended and I had to explain to the rest my non-verbal signal akin to goaltenders in hockey warning that someone is about to burst out of the penalty box.

I realize the words are not flowing out the way I want to at the moment. I have felt terrible lately, full of heightened irritability, and a sense of restlessness. The tendency in this case is to pull towards the negative. To be honest Crystal Lakes would not have been my first choice due to the fact I have been there and want a new adventure. This contrasts to my life in general where I want the same boring events for some odd reason. However Crystal Lakes is a good place to be away from the grind of city life and is only six miles round trip. I did feel better out there in nature.

Back in civilization we stopped at Wally's in Buckley for ice cream.

Back up, you don't know if you've never been here,
You've never been to the place inside, I face my fears
It takes everything I am

The Tacoma Rainiers during the regular season had the best home record and the best fielding percentage. In the playoffs Tacoma lost EVERY SINGLE FUCKING GAME AT HOME. On the road they were a mixed bag, winning all three with Sacramento but losing all at Nashville. Against Nashville Tacoma committed multiple errors in EVERY SINGLE FUCKING GAME! Good job – that equates to a championship for Nashville on our own turf. The bitter taste of the opposition sweeping and the league president going on and on, a fucking oratory praising the opposition rising through adversity, etc, etc. Great rub salt into the wound. I have experienced this so many fucking times, most recently the Everett Silvertips versus Medicine Hat. I want to win when it counts damn it.

I have been on the edge lately, a constant buzz of irritability, the kind that can lead to trouble if I find myself in a situation requiring a clear head. Some ass clown has the audacity to say I am not a real Rainiers fan, when of course I have been going to almost every game the past four years. That same loser speaks volumes on the wonder of a certain player, a player who has done little in the playoffs and has made costly mistakes on the field. I get twelve dollars back for the games not played unless Cough wants to apply it towards next season. The pain of another season. Ok so it's the pain of aimlessly drifting and issues I keep trying to make go away simply by looking the other way.

In spite of working for a month I still do not have enough to pay bills. This means I should seriously consider some sort of help, relief, bankruptcy, something. Of course working means in the government's eyes that I am wealthy so no handouts. Some people get lucky, born or marry into rich families, some win the lotto, most make just enough to cover the nut, and the rest are hopelessly screwed.

I'm losing sight, don't count on me.
I chase the sun, it chases me.

You know my name.
You know my face.
You'd know my heart.
If you knew my place.
I'll walk straight down.
As far as I can go.

(Chorus)
I follow you.
You follow me.
I don't know why you lie so clean.
I break right through the irony.

Enlighten me.
Reveal my fate.
Just cut these strings that hold me safe.

You know my head.
You know my pains.
You'd know my heart.
If you knew your place.
I'll walk straight down.
As far as I can go.

Chorus(2X)

They still do not have black stiffeners. I made up the last of the cardboard triangles. The 30118 series I finished a day and a half ago. What is there to do? Oh well let's see if I can wreck some heavy-duty fans. Hans Klopek showed me how to build them. On the first one I tapped the presser to release the rivet and ka-whunk, so much for that blade and skull unit. Each rivet machine has it's own idiosyncrasies. Some you have to slam your foot down and then it will release a rivet. Others drop at the slightest touch.

I resolved to not commit another error. Unfortunately the light overhead went out and ka-whunka, another broken unit. I thought that perhaps I had imagined things but a second time later ka-whanka, again, another object for the junkyard. The light went out before this occurred too and was observed by Ernest, a new temp. I suspected a surge so I followed the cords. Six went into one extension that went into a unit with six others and then to a strip of six and then that went to an outlet of six with every available plug in occupied. Bill in passing says that these sorts of things happen from time to time, the key is to have fewer errors than made parts. I went 76 for 79 for a success rate of 96%.

Sean served in the Army straight out of high school and originally lived in Pennsylvania. His favorite activities outside of online games are paintball and climbing. Hockey is the most interesting sport he follows. Yesterday Lucy had Orlando and I move a desk down a flight of stairs. Midway through this Charles (?) decides to lend hand as well. Lucy has an above ground pool that needs to be drained since summer is all but over. Chuck is a forty-year Steelers Fan. Ernest prefers the Raiders as he just moved up from Oakland.

The streaky Tacoma Rainiers lost all their home games to win all their road games in the first series with Sacramento to advance to the championship round against Nashville where they lost all their road games and now trail two games to zip in a best out of five heading back home. Good job. I however smell a sweep.

Seeing some pictures gave me a ghastly regret over actually getting updated pictures of myself. They were for this church yearbook thing – an irony in that I do not go there or have any interest in that way of thought. But my parents go and people have vague remembrances of my brother and I so – sure why not? Arg – photos of me – ah – bad. Unless of course - nah.

You were betrayed. You were betrayed by someone
very close to you in a past life and you have
still never forgotten it. Either you were
killed by a best friend or ratted out by one,
but it still hurt you very deeply and you don't
trust hardly anyone anymore.


How did you die in your past life? (for everyone)
brought to you by Quizilla


Broken Identity. You can no longer see yourself and
have lost everything that is you. You strive to
find out who you are and what your purpose in
life is, but all the answers seem to be
missing. You don't remember your loved ones and
in serious need of help, but there is no one
there to help you, only yourself. Only you can
truly find yourself.


What's deep inside of you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I do have an identity crisis too. – there are many concerns, fears, questions, etc – more than meets the eye I hate to admit.


Lonely is you. You're only happy when it rains. You
spend most of your time indoors hiding away
from the world. You are dark, sad, and poetic.
You are like a lost little artist with nothing
to look forwards to but the slow march to death
and at your rate you may get their quicker by
your own hand. Your melancholia attitude
attracts others like you who feel misunderstood
and alone, but you tend to stay to yourself.
Watching others play and smile makes you flinch
and jealous. You think a lot and listen and
dress the way you feel inside. You are actually
very emotional no matter how hard you try to
bury it down and feel empty inside. You don't
believe in much and it leaves you feeling
hopeless. You close yourself inside and spend a
lot of time on any hobby that can distract or
express you such as writing, drawing, music,
etc. which makes you talented at it. You feel
sorry for a lot of things and live with regret,
but all you need is one outstretched hand to
pull you up. You may want to stay in the
darkness, but you don't have to be alone.


Which White Angel are You? (pics included)
brought to you by Quizilla

I came home from work today to the phone ringing. I got it on the last ring, however so that queued up the answering machine, which my brother hates. Oh yeah my brother was the one calling. He wanted a bill paid. I could not find it. He grew upset and hung up. The answering machine went on the fritz. I went back to my business. Eventually mother played back everything. Someone called saying that they found my brother's cell phone at a Rite Aid in San Luis Obispo. By that time Cough had come home from a job and returned the message.

The Puyallup glorified carnival started today. The newest attraction is a mega building to house more Ginzu 5000 gadgets, "It slices, dices, is durable, yet fits nicely into your dishwasher." How many more of this "As seen on Tee Vee" crap do we need? If I wanted it I'd see and order it on the Tee Vee with corresponding number. If I go to this commercialization I will not be paying. Cough is working at BBQ Pete's. Feel free to say hi. Mother went during the free two hours admission from 10 to Noon. She remarked that the food proportions are smaller this year (again).

My day resemble the previous two only with some exceptions. In the midst of riveting I assembled cardboard packaging triangles and counted bolts. After the first break the company held a thirty-minute celebration of September birthdays and product overview/year to date progress report. Sean has a birthday on the 12th. Chuck has his on the 15th. The R & B, rap crooner, Stanley, had one on the 2nd. Rachel's aunt Terry – no I mean Lucy who looks like her had one but I neglected to write that date down. Brett, the bearded guy who acts like he lives there, uses electric toothbrush, shaver, etc, turned a year older too. All in all there were at least eleven, including a founder, Ed Davis, a WW 2 veteran who at 86 is many years retired but still tries to maintain some influence. Cards were handed to those in attendance and those receiving were forced to read out loud. Carrot cake and cheesecake were offered for all to partake.

Fun aside they turned to business. A lousy Power Point presentation ensued. Power Point = Crap. They flashed the mission statement and a hierarchy where the customers were on top. Progress reports were displayed, on time orders, sales, new markets, and the like. Sales were on par as the year before, orders were lagging behind, but new markets were making up for everything, especially with NAPA auto parts.

A feel good story about quality followed, I am guessing they do this at every monthly meeting. This story involved a Chief Warrant Officer in Iraq who had problems with Humvees overheating. The specs for the engine and radiator were for a max of 250 degrees. Transmissions were being blown at worse or permanently getting stuck in second due to the excess heat. The officer remembers ordering parts for his race car that might work here. He places a call to have five shipped on his expense. They do the trick. He informs his superiors who go out and place a rush order for 80 of the model 230. This tale, we are told by the PR woman running the meeting, brought tears to Davis’s eyes as it involved the military and his line of products both near and dear to his heart. The company president added something to the effect that if it were not for people knowing about quality products they produced and the reputation we wouldn’t be saving lives in Iraq, anyhow the gist was on doing quality work for those who need the product.

Other names learned over the last week – Orlando (Hispanic riveter – came up to me to discuss an improperly assembled blade. It depressed me greatly but he punched it out and redid it and thus I felt better. It was for Compressor after all and they just want fans to work not look pretty. ), Hillary (Boxes, Design, Radiators, other – likes green, t-shirts worn include For Him, Good Charlotte, and Abercrombie and Fitch, talks on cell phone during breaks, large metallic cross pendant, has a ghetto/playaz look going), Alex (Boxes, Design, Assembly, other – likes red, wore a Saves the Day shirt, leaving for college, schwing)

3:45 – Alarm goes off
Spend the next thirty minutes silently fuming about getting up this early
5:45 – After breakfast I leave for work.
6:30 – Start riveting things (Riveters know how to put it in the hole!)
9:00 – Break. Eat some things.
9:15 – Rivet again.
11:30 – Lunch. Eat rest of the food. Have brief conversation with Chuck and Sean (Sibley clone). Sean talks about video games and his girlfriend. Chuck discusses Fred Meyer.
12:00 – Rivet more.
14:00 – Last break. No food, so drink a soda instead.
14:15 – Rivet again.
15:00 – Day over. Head home.
16:30 – Arrive back home.
18:00 – Spend $5 on a fast food dinner.
19:00 to 22:00 – Watch the Rainiers lose to Sacramento. Bruce pushes a wrestling match.
22:45 – Go to bed after checking folding progress and email.

That has been the last two days in a nutshell. A carbon copy. Ok so not exactly. I mean today, Hans Klopek put in money to get Grandma's cookies (the type my brother loves) and it did not come out. He whacked on the sides for a bit until rocking the vending machine for a minute until he was successful. Jack and Wayne mentioned the high school football season today. Yesterday I sat with Mox after talking with Bruce. Both days though, I had bad premonitions. Today I did end up cutting myself.

The shirt you really want to wear you cannot find and if you do the odds are great that you will spill something on it that will never come out. That is what exactly happened to me. Do I ever spill crap on red, orange, yellow, white, or beige shirts? No. But grays and blues I spill everything on. I hardly ever wore it either. Damn. I guess I will use it to paint the house now.

I was lucky to not get stuff on my Slammers jersey. Rhubarb the Rainiers mascot wanted to sign it but I pulled away and offered a ticket instead. Rhubarb wrote, "Rhubarb's not going there." Spiffy. Brian showed up with Wayne in the fifth, a bit of a letdown but par for the course. Ron was AWOL as were the ladies from the Stars program. Great. I think every time I even think about helping or giving or making someone feel better I should do something for me instead – tickets, hike, games, magazine subscription, etc.

The Rainiers won 5 to 2 over the Rivercats to finish the season with a record of 80-64. The next two home games are playoffs against the same Rivercats. Why they always seem to schedule Sacramento for the final match up before the playoffs when Sacramento always makes the playoffs, and will thus be the possible opponent is beyond me. Schedule them before August. Have the season end with Colorado Springs or Iowa teams near the bottom of the standings year in and year out.

Ranting about the disparity of rich and poor in Shit Towne G W grew upset and said I should be more positive. So let's look for positives today. Uhm. Mox gave us a disc with our batting practice photos. Sarah the usher handed us a "Thanks for being there" note card. The Rainiers won. We had wine with dinner. People liked the Slammers jersey. I helped G W with his absentee ballot (Find all the crazy Republicans and vote for them). But I think I may have regressed with that last bit. I miss Scot the cynic or apathetic Gretchen.

Excuse me, madam
You're standing still in a no parking zone
You don't get a move on that body
I'll be forced to give you a ticket
So get with it

This journal is not going away at least not at this juncture. I spent too much time on it. If people don't like it they can go pound salt.

I arrived at the ballgame in my Tacoma Twins replica I won at an auction back in 2001. People tend to forget I have it. I had to look somewhat decent when I made an ass of myself in batting practice. Mox might even take pictures of it. They might resurface if I ever run for office alongside the disco video. "I repeat I was not dancing to 'Upside Down.'" Or 'Let it Whip' or 'Fire Island.'

Brian Riley showed up in the second inning after Tacoma put up two runs to take a lead on Back to School lunchbox giveaway day. He mumbled something to Sarah about that postcard. She rolled her eyes. I think he knows but I won't lead on. I got a bunch of random Cheney characters to sign discarded team player postcards, some under the guise they would be sent on the next NASA mission. These items were sent to Brian. Oh I suppose it would be strange to some but I will not be doing that sort of thing again. Postcards are out. I may send letters twice a year instead to people. Or less.

Tomorrow has been "unofficially" dubbed Hockey jersey day at the ballpark. I will likely wear an Alabama jersey, a tribute to Scot. Maybe I will bring an extra and take a picture of the three of us with Mox in them.

The Rainiers eked out a 3 to 2 victory over the Sacramento RiverCats to clinch their division. Manager Dan Rohn celebrated with his team by drinking and/or spraying Coors Beer.

Once the field clears of players it is time for the season ticket holders to have batting practice. People like Ed, Mox and his wife Linda, Ron from Olympic Poster, and Cough and I could take our swing at ten pitches thrown from someone on the grounds crew. Ed wanted Mox to take some photos of him but they were only allowing so many on the field at a time. Mox snapped pictures of various other holders and their kids. His wife made contact with several balls, as did Ron and I. I batted right-handed although I have a better average from the left. Mox and Cough faired dismally swinging and missing on most. Mox said afterwards that he should have just done what I did put the ball into play somewhere as opposed to trying to hit it into the outfield. He asked me what the rest of the plans were for the day. Cough had stadium clean up. I mentioned possibly driving up to Woodinville to help someone move. "Why would you want to go way up there?" I have lately often thought the same thing. He seemed to think that friends and church members there could be in a better position to do the work as opposed to me hurriedly going up there after six and getting on the tail in or worse.

Anyhow I guess I will see how many people I can piss off tomorrow. Since I cannot do right by everyone I have nothing to lose. These colors that I am shining are surely not the best but I no longer care.

Today stunk. I tried to be helpful with the usual results. I will likely never go back to a Volcanoes game. The highlight of the day came in a detour. I had a notion of making it to a winery before it closed. I had a lot on my mind and that sort of things puts me at ease. I would have continued south but then a vehicle up ahead spun out into a ditch and some others got into fender benders. Traffic and such were coming back as brake lights were hit and vehicles swerved. I think I will take the exit.

I made it just in time. The hostess was accommodating. To some degree she resembled Rachel in appearance, something that might have driven the pain of what happened further into that festering wound, but I made small talk, the usual other wineries I went to and their eccentric ways. Selections sampled: Pinot Gris, Chardonnay, White Riesling, Gertie, French Prairie (Noir skins soaked in with Riesling for a while – this makes it sort of a blush), and Pinot Noir. Last year the French Prairie was sweeter in taste.

Today I had the notion to go on a hike, as I had the day off. It failed to materialize. I could have cried. No hike just wasted gas and countless detours along the way. One person yelled at me to get a girlfriend. I should have just driven to Salem and found a campground spot while I could. Now everything is taken, even Dash Point where the ranger grandpa says retired is still there. He moved into Les's old home. The bogus information was likely a ruse to avoid further contact.

The Rainiers won today 6 to 1 against Sacramento. Clutch RBI hits by Shin-Soo Choo and Asdrubal Cabrera in the second inning paved the way for eventual victory. Starter Bobby Livingston struck out fourteen over seven innings while walking three.

I thought my mother would just take grandpa to the game but she convinced Cough and I to tag along. This posed a problem in that I had unloaded all my used and rainouts at the last home game. Nonetheless I was able to find another season ticket holder doing the same for this game and did not have to pay to get in. I think Cough had to pay though.

Seeing as the day had been lost I tried to at least make up for it in conversation. I must admit I could be better. I would like to carry on a topic at length or feel like I am adding something in the company of friends. However it might be due to the fact I care so much about my appearance or what they think of me. With Mark, Brian, Wayne. Mox, Ron, or Bruce – I just do not care. Perhaps this is why it seems to go so smoothly. I have no expectations. Mark talks about Salt Lake's match-up and the possible playoff scenarios in passing. I add something. No problem. Brian and Wayne failed to show (not surprised by this considering the holiday). It gave Cough and I the ability to sit in their seats below mother and grandfather. I spoke to Mox briefly about the teacher's strike, the old district, and the Seahawks game. No sweat. I ambled up to Bruce’s seat and discussed players while he mentioned wrestling bouts. No harm done. Ron asks questions about playoff tickets. Easy enough. If I try to be around Rachel, Sibley, Ovall, etc things fall apart. It's hard to tell sometimes, maybe this is one of the tide is in points in my life.

Tomorrow I will hopefully unload the last of my Salem tickets. I should add more oil before I go. This will likely be the last adventure for the month barring a long drive to a trailhead. Next month I might head to Eastern Washington or Southern California, it really depends.

Excuse me, madam
You're standing still in a no parking zone
You don't get a move on that body
I'll be forced to give you a ticket
So get with it

It's the first of the month – and suddenly it's September. I do not know whether to laugh or cry at this.

Work exists let's put it that way. The guy who belts out R & B songs during construction of radiators expressed concerns for family in Louisiana. He grew up in New Orleans though his family now resides in Baton Rouge. I considered mentioned my Baton Rouge exploits, but didn't. He has been working at this place for three years. The excitement suddenly dies from his face as he adds – it's the most boring job he has ever had. It pays the bills though.

Sibley clone does go by the name of Sean. Unlike the real person of late he actually will initiate conversation. I have been eating lunch from a catamount of sorts near the office paperwork storage area and a computer tech's. There is a table with chairs and microwaves. This should be the normal place to eat but everyone else goes outside to a covered area or their vehicles. Sean and Chuck joined the table today while Bill headed off to the unknown.

Sean talked about taking classes to become a machinist. Chuck indicated a preference to taking classes to become a mystery shopper. He says "I already critique places when I go there anyways. I might as well get paid for them." He branched off on a subject of buying a pen from Fred Meyer's that no one could locate a refill. Chuck decided to call people, lots of people. Suddenly Chuck gets results, as in Fred Meyer will just send him free refills. Chuck wonders though how long that will last as he thinks he will need one about every month or so. Chuck has done retail before, 30 years, at the Big S (Sears? Safeway?). Actually let's diverge here a bit. Say he was 20 when he got on with the Big S after two years after high with no direction. Tack on thirty. Add two for temping before this job and nine for this job and suddenly Chuck's the same age as Cough.

Hans Klopek from the 'Burbs stared off into space when I inquired about how many discards they have in a given week before asking, "Are you worried you have too much?" Actually I am but I would not freely admit it. He throws out the figures "a dozen or none." Great. I had eight but seven were reusable in some form or another. The anguish of a jammed rivet on the last hole of an eight-pronged fan – AAARRRGH! Not once but on four separate occasions. One I built backwards, conveniently when the supervisor walks by too. Whoops, but that's exactly how they do another series so that can be set aside. I had one rivet disintegrate before me. Whunk goes the presser, then bits of metal go flying and there is a powdery residue that I wipe from the blade. No damage at all so I try again.

Traffic is dreadful but I make it back home. I crash on the bed after some web surfing. Dinner consists of leftover noodles with cheese and beets. Mormons apparently came by looking for me while I was sleeping. I should have gone to the door in my underwear, which is what I wear around the house due to many reasons I shall not expand on.

I figure I have an hour before I head to bed. The Rainiers come back for the final four games of the season starting tomorrow. Salem closes up at home this weekend as well. Conflicting interests. I should not have bought two "five game" plans for Salem. Cough never went at all, a waste of $40, money that could go towards – a domain name – a Worcester Tornadoes baseball hat – a place ticket somewhere – improved LiveJournal features – Campground fees at Brooks Memorial (Observatory nearby!) – Etc.

This song is just too short – Sigh.

It may be a foregone conclusion that when Rome comes back from the month long vacation that I will be departing. I am not as fast as he or anyone else it seems. In the time it takes me to type this five fans could have been put together. I would still be on the first one. How does it make me feel? Well – lousy, duh.

My new task to put air conditioning units together for Chuck and the rest in electronics yielded a trial success rate of 40%. Thanks for trying – go back to blade assembly. The only reason I have not been inundated with blades and parts is that for the past two days that operating line has been down for repair. I do not expect such luck to continue. They will fix it.

Regrettably this gig now brings back memories of trying to learn mail routes and making sure I stay on for the summer. Both succumbed – probably to the inevitable.

I think the Sibley clone goes by the name of Sean. He, Chuck, and Bill sat at the same table as I for lunch. They discussed work, previous temp assignments, and injuries. Bill ended up at a place where the managers drove people into fisticuffs. One person had been a temp there for eight years. Sibley clone remarked that sometimes people stay in a bad situation due to fear, the fear that somehow anything they find or come across will be worse than what they left. Health benefits come up with the injuries. That so reminds me of a job I had in Bellingham. I was good at it but I did not want to do it forever. I had higher goals and aspirations then. David Joule told me that there would be a good chance if I stayed on I would move to full time with benefits, like dental plans.

Yesterday after work I crashed on the bed only to have my mother want to go out to eat. I struggled but got up. She had a free dinner coupon for the Keg Steakhouse. After her Steak and Lobster and my Sirloin, we returned home and I immediately went to sleep.

Tomorrow – more rivets unless Rondo goes crazy and fires people, which from Chuck and Bill's mouth happens quite a lot.