2 oz of the cheapest whiskey in your house
Splash of grenadine
2 sugar cubes
Ice
Tonic water
Bitters
Place sugar cubes in glass, cover with whiskey and grenadine. Muddle. Add ice, add tonic to fill. Add a splash or two of bitters. Get inebriated and misbehave.
8.22.2009
6.04.2009
Dream 3
Take me out to the ball game
Early summer, early in the 20th century. The sun is low in the horizon as I sit on a wooden set of bleachers waiting on the end of a minor league baseball game. I am wearing a casual short-sleeved summer dress of blue calico with small flowers. Even with my hair fashionably tied up on my head, the evening is hot and I fan myself to dissipate the heat. The team I am there to see is ahead by one, their pitcher on the mound, the outfield tensed to attack anything the batter might get ahold of. The uniforms are crisp white, with red pinstripes running from the top of their collar-less shirts to the bottom of their knee-length pants.
I am here because I know what the future holds. Tonight will be his last night pitching. I don't know how I know this, and it seems to have no affect on me. I will do nothing to change it.
He throws his final pitch and strikes the batter out. His teammates assault him on the mound, elated to have won their game.
I climb down from the bleachers, carefully watching each step my navy low heels take and wait by the gate for him. He arrives and puts his arm around my waist, his colleagues still slapping his back, and congratulating him.
We all arrived at the apartment complex and pushed the furniture out of the living room. The Victrola was turned on, and the dancing began. This was a celebration. It was to be his last celebration. He spun me around the room as more guests arrived and filled the space. Food was brought in and lined along the kitchen cabinets. I knew something on that buffet would poison him and lead to his death. I would do nothing to stop it. Not because I hate him, because it was inevitable, and not my place or purpose to change his path.
We danced in the stairwell of the complex and outdoors. Late in the evening, as the dew settled on the grass, we said our goodbyes in the courtyard.
In a few days, he would be dead.
6.01.2009
Situations I have found myself in. Vol 1. Ed. 2
April 19, 2000
As a youth (that being someone aged junior of 20) living in Coffeyville, I often found myself leaving town to find entertainment. One spring evening, quad 15, a few others, and myself decided to take a jaunt to Pittsburg to a club for a night of dancing and drinking.
We left as storms were building on the horizon but, being young and invencible, we chose to ignore them.
By the time we got to Parsons, hail was falling and the rain had obliterated road visibility so we decided to pull into Pizza Hut to wait it out. No sooner had we walked in, and the sirens sounded. We were all quickly ushered with the few other patrons and staff into the walk-in freezer. After about 15 minutes a few of us free Kansas spirits tired of the wait and left the freezer to go outside and stare at the sky. I walked out into the rain while Brian stood under the canopy to light a cigarette. I was preoccupied with the downpour when Brian said, "I can't believe a train is coming through here in this weather."
No sooner had the words escaped his mouth than he recognized the sound for what it was, and drug me back inside, away from the approaching tornado.
Some time later, we decided to abandon our trip and head back to the 'ville and the safety of quad 15. All amusement of the evening was not lost. We danced in the rain at the dorms for a while and, after stealing dry clothes from Matt we played a rousing game of cards late into the night in the quad.
The next morning, the front page of every paper detailed the story of the tornado that wiped out downtown Parsons. I will always have the story of how I hid in the freezer at Pizza Hut from it.
As a youth (that being someone aged junior of 20) living in Coffeyville, I often found myself leaving town to find entertainment. One spring evening, quad 15, a few others, and myself decided to take a jaunt to Pittsburg to a club for a night of dancing and drinking.
We left as storms were building on the horizon but, being young and invencible, we chose to ignore them.
By the time we got to Parsons, hail was falling and the rain had obliterated road visibility so we decided to pull into Pizza Hut to wait it out. No sooner had we walked in, and the sirens sounded. We were all quickly ushered with the few other patrons and staff into the walk-in freezer. After about 15 minutes a few of us free Kansas spirits tired of the wait and left the freezer to go outside and stare at the sky. I walked out into the rain while Brian stood under the canopy to light a cigarette. I was preoccupied with the downpour when Brian said, "I can't believe a train is coming through here in this weather."
No sooner had the words escaped his mouth than he recognized the sound for what it was, and drug me back inside, away from the approaching tornado.
Some time later, we decided to abandon our trip and head back to the 'ville and the safety of quad 15. All amusement of the evening was not lost. We danced in the rain at the dorms for a while and, after stealing dry clothes from Matt we played a rousing game of cards late into the night in the quad.
The next morning, the front page of every paper detailed the story of the tornado that wiped out downtown Parsons. I will always have the story of how I hid in the freezer at Pizza Hut from it.
5.15.2009
Situations I have found myself in vol. 1
Outside of the dream thread, I don't think I have any series that recur. In the spirit of having something nonsensical to discuss, I give you 'Situations I have found myself in.'
June 2007.
I had recently taken a job in Bartlesville, Oklahoma after having graduated from college and invited a slew of my former classmates down to visit the new digs. This particular weekend coincided with the wedding of another former classmate.
The gala event was to take place in the evening at the Brown Mansion in Coffeyville, Kansas. The bride herself had only been to Coffeyville once before during one of my forced architectural tours and had apparently found herself smitten with the building.
The wedding went off mostly as planned, with the exception being the ceremony itself was held indoors due to rain.
Here is the point I mention that it had rained a lot recently. A whole lot. Buy gopher wood, and pair up your animals lot. Maybe get yourself some of those arm floaties kids use in the pool. I digress...
Shortly after the ceremony itself, the rain ceased and we headed out on the lawn, various forms of liquor in hand to celebrate. There was music, dancing, pictures, and conversation of both the mediocre and extraordinary (for the state of sobriety anyway).
And then, the levies broke.
The party went from swinging to chaos in about 20 seconds. Police arrived at the mansion to tell everyone to evacuate immediately. We had no idea the severity, and concluded this must be an over-reaction. I slowly gathered those that were to return to Oklahoma with me for the evening and headed to the car. When we hit the western-most edge of Coffeyville we were met by the Kansas Highway patrol telling us that the roads would soon be closed. I asked in which direction and was told, "all of them." Better time has never been made to Oklahoma. When we reached the state line we were met by more highway patrol. Highway 75 was being shut down due to flooding. I begged. We were of the last row of vehicles let into Oklahoma that night. The next morning we awoke to Coffeyville on CNN. The town was underwater, worst flood in history, and the refinery had exuded crude into the water. All on the east side of town was lost.
I had not spent much time in Coffeyville since my formative early college years, and now, half of it was gone.
The one night I return, the place is inundated by an act of God.
I have found that where travels lead, trouble courts.
5.10.2009
Last Man Standing
It is 2 a.m. on Sunday morning. It's mother's day, and I am now the last person awake on earth (or that's my perception). Whatever has corroded my lungs has seriously limited (further limited) my ability to sleep. Add some new life stress and I'm about to work myself into zombie zone. Brain awake, body inertia.
However, I have found (created) a new venue for listening to music that doesn't involve me spending more money. I finally signed up for a last.fm profile and have spent all evening surfing the web to background tunes.
Very nice, I'd recommend Duke Ellington for the 2 a.m. shift.
5.09.2009
5.07.2009
Dream 2
Pecan Sandies
It's 2 o'clock in the morning. The only light comes from distant, intermittent street lamps. It has rained all night and the darkness makes the street look like wet ink. We walk up the street, a residential area, in search of a convenience store in which to buy donuts. He and I. The conversation is light, usually reguarding the rediculous intent that has us out at this hour. We find a convenience store, a beacon of light in the dark and go in. I find it odd that the shelving in this location is taller than me, but set about finding the donuts. My task is hampered because nothing is in marked packaging. Every item on every shelf is in a plain, white paper bag, each requiring inspection to determine the contents. We wander up and down shelves, peering into bag after bag until he declares, "pecan sandies!"
He keeps saying it over, and over as he removes the bag from the shelf.
"Pecan sandies, pecan sandies."
He pronounces pecan in that non- regional way, excentuating the long e.
"Peeeecan sandies."
Dragging out the first sylable for effect.
He pays, shoves a whole cookie in his mouth, smiles to reveal the partially chewed contents, and we walk out of the store and back into the night.
It's 2 o'clock in the morning. The only light comes from distant, intermittent street lamps. It has rained all night and the darkness makes the street look like wet ink. We walk up the street, a residential area, in search of a convenience store in which to buy donuts. He and I. The conversation is light, usually reguarding the rediculous intent that has us out at this hour. We find a convenience store, a beacon of light in the dark and go in. I find it odd that the shelving in this location is taller than me, but set about finding the donuts. My task is hampered because nothing is in marked packaging. Every item on every shelf is in a plain, white paper bag, each requiring inspection to determine the contents. We wander up and down shelves, peering into bag after bag until he declares, "pecan sandies!"
He keeps saying it over, and over as he removes the bag from the shelf.
"Pecan sandies, pecan sandies."
He pronounces pecan in that non- regional way, excentuating the long e.
"Peeeecan sandies."
Dragging out the first sylable for effect.
He pays, shoves a whole cookie in his mouth, smiles to reveal the partially chewed contents, and we walk out of the store and back into the night.
Where the old wives spin their tales
Shaun keeps threatening to send me to the doctor if I don't get over my cold. I guess two weeks of non-stop hacking is starting to grate on his nerves. I hate doctors so, I'm going to experiment with old wives tales. First up, whiskey and lemon juice. At least if it doesn't work I'll sleep well.
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