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Wow, I haven’t updated in a while (who am I talking to?).

Tonight Ryan and I went to a nearby pool hall because we’ve been playing dollar-per-game pool recently and figured it would be cheaper. It turned out that Monday is Free Pool Night, so it was, in fact, cheaper.

We invented a game, and I am basically writing this post so we remember the rules. It’s based on Quidditch, the made up game that all the cool kids play in Harry Potter. I realize how retarded that sounds, really, I do.

Quidditch Pool

The balls are racked with stripes along the front, and in the back two corners, and the 8 ball goes in the center.

The game ends when the 8 ball is pocketed.

Solids are worth 10 points. When a solid is pocketed in a turn, the player continues their turn.

Stripes are worth 15 points.  A striped ball does not continue the turn (although if a solid is also sunk, then play continues).

Any ball that is pocketed during the break is worth 5 points, regardless of color.

The 8 ball is worth 50 points, but is not active until one player has reached 45 points.

A scratch of any kind results in a loss of 5 points. The deduction is calculated after the points gained on the turn. If a player reaches or surpasses 45 points prior to the deduction, the 8 ball is still active.

The player with the most points when the 8 ball is pocketed wins, including the 50 points to the player who sunk that ball. The 8 ball is cannot be struck first until it is active. If the cue ball strikes the inactive 8 ball first, it is a scratch and the turn ends.

In the event of a tie, play continues until a score is made, but the act of sinking the 8 ball ends that player’s turn.

The game plays surprisingly well, providing plenty of chances for strategy. While all but one ball is technically legal to play, the choice to sink a 10 point solid and continue, or score 15 points and end the turn is always important. No player is ever “safe” until they are more than 50 points ahead, so it is generally wise to continue play only if the next shot will likely result in a score. Receiving 15 points but ending the turn can be beneficial. Once the 8 ball is active, the choice of scoring points or ‘hiding’ the cue ball is also an option, as preventing the other player from sinking the 8 ball is important when a shot on it can’t be safely made.

At least one player has to sink a minimum of  3 balls before the game can end, and if they only pocket stripes to reach the required 45 points, then they have taken 3 turns and can still lose in one shot (since the 8 ball is worth 5 points more). If one player pockets at least one ball on the break, and pockets at least one solid until the 8 ball is active, it is possible to win the game in a single turn, much like standard 8 ball or 9 ball.

I realize I haven’t updated in a while. I’ve still been cooking, but have also been busy planning my move. I’ll be driving to Austin, TX at the end of the month, with whatever I haven’t sold packed into my car. I already have a place leased, and sold my bed. Someone should be picking up my dresser tomorrow. After that, I’ll pack up all the clothes I didn’t already give to Goodwill.

Adios, California!

I hate the process of moving. Boxing up shit I should have thrown away, cleaning, carrying furniture, figuring out who has a truck big enough to move the larger things, loose ends, making a place feel comfortable, and everything else. This time I had the bonus of an ex-roommate who made things even more terrible.

That aside, the place I moved to had some plans in store for it. The place is a nice two bedroom townhouse in Atascadero, California, a few miles from my office. A friend of mine bought it, and the location was perfect so I agreed to move in. The two bedrooms are the same, except mirrored. The main problem with the bedrooms is that the door to the closet was put in the bathroom, and the closet itself juts out two feet into the bedroom. Nobody wants their clothes to be wet and moldy from constant steaming. We had to fix that.

But first we had to remove the popcorn ceiling that covered the entire upstairs area. I didn’t take any pictures of the process, but it was extremely messy and annoying. First, we had to wet down the ceiling with a garden sprayer, and then scrape the texture off the ceiling using various tools. Then we sanded to attempt to cover up the terrible marks we made in the otherwise bare drywall. That took an entire weekend.

I took last week off entirely to complete the main task – which was moving the closet door to the bedroom, widening the closet into the bathroom, and removing the walls that stuck out into the bedroom.

I’m sick of typing so I’m just going to post pictures now. Click the link below to see the actual images.

Read more…

Drowning in my tears

Day after day

I love you

I’m sorry

Is all you can say

I wish you could take my pain away

For loving you

This is the price I must pay

A year has passed

Feeling as if it were yesterday

And also ten years ago

So unreal

I listen to the song

I remember

Emotions come flooding back

I’m there again

With you

Holding your hand

Reading you my letter

Wishing I hadn’t waited so long to tell you

Barely managing to get words out

Tears fall onto the bedsheet

Then and now

Struggling with acceptance

Still

Suppressing feelings

Reaching out for closure

It will come

Contemplating

Can’t stand the waiting

A new sensation

Brings temptation

So unreal

Yet how I feel

Its as if I’ve come undone

In the end lost not won

Consuming thoughts

And hopes and dreams

Can it be what it seems

Fearing what perhaps is true

Looking

Somehow finding you

“I love you!”

I scream

At the top of my lungs.

But only when no one

Is listening.

“You fool!”

They all say,

At my holding such thoughts.

If only they knew

What I’m fearing.

I fear him.

I fear me.

I fear loss.

I fear distance.

I fear what I’m holding within.

“Good God!”

I squeak out.

At all of my choices.

And decide that I have

Much more thinking.

Come toil in quiet contemp

Paperclip disarray, workspace unkempt.

Authorative voice from the aisle,

I bury my head in an envelope pile.

We’re looking for someone like you

To do all the things that we don’t want to do

Fluorescently lit is the key

You’ll fit in so well if you’ll try it and see.

And you can have all that you want

As long as your dream is to work as our grunt.

You’ll rake in the dollars and cents

(But upwards of half goes right back to the mint)

So fax us your resume soon,

And you can be hired by this afternoon.

With you we’ll all go so far,

But we really don’t care who you are.

A calm reminder of the pain

Your gentle gunshot tears a vein

As blood drains slowly, all I have

Is rolling blindly down the path

Sweetly poisoned, tainted with

A longful stare, but only if

I had known what you would do

Then I could never speak to you

Sit here and watch it

As the people drive by.

I’m sure there are a thousand

Different stories to tell,

Each one just a boring as the next.

One day there will be someone

Who drives by and yells “To hell with you!”

As they plow through the police station.

It was their dog that made them so mad.

Crapped on their favorite burkenstocks.

“Damn you, dog.

You never did like Jerry Garcia!”

And of course someone would find

Some journal they kept under their matress.

It tells about the time they spent in Vietnam,

On vacation.

Hard to read the portions written in crayon.

Strange oragami shapes fall out as you shake it.

Looks like a greek myth acted out on the living room floor.

What fun times sleeping on the floor next to those oragami shapes

In the middle of summer,

Staring out at the traffic light

Listening

For another story.