The Sixth Day of Christmas: In Da Hood

I've spent most of my day chillin' in my hoodie. It's fantastic. My normally cold home has been getting the best of me lately. So, last night after watching Punisher: War Zone, I bought some new slippers, a hooded sweatshirt, and some lounging around pants (and while they may look like sweat pants, they aren't - I don't do sweat pants). I also bought another jacket. And a work shirt/jacket thing in anticipation of some tree-killing I have coming up.

All in all, it's been a comfortable day. Comics, movies, TV, books...ahhh, this is a weekend.

The Fifth Day of Christmas: Ruined Christmas

My day started off so well - I woke up with time to get around at a leisurely pace, ate some awesome little donuts...things were going great.

And then I listened to this message from my mom telling me that my family would be celebrating Christmas on the 21st. Not Christmas morning like we've done for the past 27 years. The fucking 21st.

I'm not normally a person who rocks boats, but this really irks me. So much so that it was all I could think about - ruining my mood, my great morning, my day, and my entire Christmas spirit.

The Fourth Day of Christmas: Frustration

There's no feeling like that feeling you get when you put all of your effort into something - or helping someone - and it (they) falls apart (do nothing to help themselves). I suppose that's why they invented the word: frustration.

Still, understanding the concept of frustration does little to alleviate the...frustration.

If I didn't love this time of year so much I might have said - humbug.

The Third Day of Christmas: Music

Today was the day I began rockin' the holiday tunes.

I never start before Thanksgiving, and thanks to my new-found love of honeyhoney, I'm a few days late with the Jingle Bell-ing.

Still, better late than never, getting those chestnuts roasting and those sleigh bells ringing: ting ting ting-a-ling ting.

(I'm also loving some great scores by some of my favorite composers: Danny Elfman, Milk; Carter Burwell, Burn After Reading; and Bear McCreary, Eureka and Rest Stop: Don't Look Back.)

The Second Day of Christmas: Non-Stop Reading

It's been awhile since I've plowed through an entire book in one day, let alone one night, let alone a few hours.

Ah, the joys of reading children's books.

It's actually not a bad little series I'm reading: The 39 Clues. The second book in the series, The 39 Clues: One False Note, came out today. The series is basically National Treasure-lite. Clues, mystery, action, suspense, double-crossing back-stabbing families...pretty good stuff.

And oh so Christmas-y.

The First Day of Christmas: Rushed

I got a little too used to not having to do anything or be anywhere over my short vacation. So used to nothing, that I was almost late to work today. It's a good thing I live as close as I do.

I didn't hear either of my two alarms, or my cell phone alarm. I was out and lucky to wake at all.

So, of course, I was rushed all day long. Worked all night. And I will be damn sure that I'm in bed at a decent time tonight.

Hmph. Vacation.

5% Chance

I stayed cooped up in my house all day. I did nothing but read comics, watch TV, and snack on food (some moldy and some spoiled, I'm almost sadly sure). It's back to work tomorrow. Am I ready? Sure. Willing? Partly.

I'm working on a six and a half year plan. It would be nice to be retired by age 35. It'll take some doing...but I do think it's actually possible. A 5% chance is better than nothing.

And so I have hope.

First Rodeo by honeyhoney

This is an amazing CD from a band I had not heard of before two days ago.

Signed to Ironworks Music - the music company co-owned by Keifer Sutherland - I hoped they would be half as good as Rocco Deluca and the Burden. I was not disappointed. They have that same alt-country vibe, that same twang that isn't quite country, yet is country done tremendously well. The music is catchy and addictive and new. I have a feeling I'll be spinning this CD for quite some time.

Possibly as long as February when the new Rocco CD drops.

First Rodeo by honeyhoney is available in stores and online now .

Top Tracks: "Little Toy Gun" and "Come On Home"

Up Late and Wandering

I'm up late (for me) and had the urge to look back through my blog. There's some fascinating things I'm noticing again for the first time in over a year(!) -

I used to blog about a thing I called The Stacks. I would list all the media I was currently working my way through...only it appears I never got anywhere with any of it. Example from my last post on September 17, 2007:
---
Books:
Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment by James Patterson - finished
The Dark Tower (Dark Tower book 7) by Stephen King - finished
On Writing by Stephen King - still on the bookshelf
Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay - still on the bookshelf
The Magical Life of Long Tack Sam by Ann Marie Fleming -still on the bookshelf
No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July -still on the bookshelf
Tumble Home: A Novella and Short Stories by Amy Hempel - still on the bookshelf
Pretty Little Mistakes by Heather McElhatton - still on the bookshelf
His Dark Materials – Book III: The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman - still on the bookshelf
The Road by Cormac McCarthy - finished

(3 for 10 finished)

Magazines:
Paste issue 32, June 2007
Corel Painter: Official Magazine #5

(not even sure if I still have these magazines - though I'm sure I do, only where?)

DVDs:
The X-Files: Season 6 (TV series) - not finished
Weeds: Season 1 (TV series) - finished
Deadwood: Season 3 (TV series) - nope
Futurama: Season 2 (TV series) - nope
Black Snake Moan - nope
The Replacement Killers - nope, not done either
Spawn: The Animated Collection (TV series) - no
300 - nada
Rome: Season 1 (TV series) - sorry, no
Heroes: Season 1 (TV series) - finished

(2 for 10)

Comics:
Blood: A Tale (TPB) - no
The Other Side (GN) - no
Beyond! (TPB) - no
Pearls Before Swine: Lions and Tigers and Crocs, Oh My! by Stephan Pastis (Treasury) - finished
Grendel Archives (TPB) - no
Grendel: Devil by the Deed (TPB) - no
The Goon vol. 1: Nothin’ But Misery (TPB) - no
The Goon vol. 2: My Murderous Childhood (And Other Grievous Yarns) (TPB) - no
Sentences: The Life of MF Grimm (HC) - no
Scalped vol. 1: Indian Country (TPB) - finished
Showcase Presents: Batman and the Outsiders vol. 1 (TPB) - no

(2 for 11)
---
And this stuff was on my pile to read/watch back on September 17, 2007! And it's not like I haven't added to that in the past year.

I spend entirely too much money on stuff still patiently waiting on shelves. I'm up to 13 bookshelves full of stuff in my home. I'm literally surrounded by unfinished purchases.

Also, there were labels for posts about weight loss (no success there) and bike riding (haven't done that almost half a year) - things that have fallen by the wayside.

All is not lost. In fact, I have some plans for next year, plans that might reinvigorate this blog (and the joy I get from writing)...

Stay tuned.

Thanksgiving Vacation

I sure do love me some vacation from work. It's not that I don't enjoy work, but...

Waking up late, cooking breakfast instead of pouring it in a bowl, rockin' some Dropkick Murphys while casually surfing the 'net, trekking off to a movie (Australia and maybe Transporter 3 afterward), baking an apple pie from scratch (crust and all)...

Now that's a day.

I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving tomorrow!

First Snow 2008

Today was the first day of some snow that actually stuck around - not for long, but for awhile. The driveway and roads are clear, but slightly slushy, while the grass has a nice dusting of white. Somewhat pretty.

I love snow. The cold. Winter. This is my time of year.

Power Through the Tired

It's late (or early). I think I might be getting too old to hit the midnight showings of movies on a work night.

I'm going to tough it out and do without the sleep. I'll go from one day of work straight on into the next. I might be a little tired and have trouble keeping from yawning all the time, but I'll survive it.

And Quantum of Solace was good. Worth the lack of sleep at any rate.

New Ink

It is difficult to not stare at a new tattoo.

I should have been working last night, but instead, I went and added on to one of my previous tattoos. In fact, this addition should - finally - complete the image.

It was a little mind-blowing to remember that this particular tattoo was my very first, and that it was done ten and a half years ago. I'm getting so old.

Still, it does look cool.


Tattoo is on the upper right arm.

A Halloween Story (part II)

UNDER THE BED

(continued from part I)

If it wasn’t Donald, that left only one person. Dad.

Douglas’ dad was the kind of man who thought he was funnier than he truly was. And scaring his own two sons was hilarious to him. In fact, he thought a little fright built character. It was why Douglas didn’t get in trouble every time he tormented Donald.

It was also why Douglas poked his head out from under the covers.

“Dad? If that’s you,” Douglas said, “you scared me. Okay? You can stop now.”

Douglas paused a moment. “Dad?”

Nooooo dad. The voice sounded stronger. Closer. I’ll see you soo-oon.

Douglas didn’t know what was under his bed. He didn’t care. At that moment he knew one thing, and one thing only. He had to escape.

The window was closest, but it was also two stories down to the ground. Even if Douglas made it to the window before the thing under his bed caught him, he couldn’t be sure he’d actually jump from so high up. He was not a fan of heights.

In his mind he could picture little Donald sitting up on a tree branch, unafraid of heights, laughing down at Douglas who frantically called up for help as bony, clawed hands reached up from the ground, grasping at Douglas’ legs.

Shaking the image from his head, Douglas looked for another way out. It was too far to the door to make it safely out of the room. Somehow he knew that if he stood up on his bed to try and get a running start, the monster would know and attack before his feet left the cushion of the mattress.

It was hopeless.

Heh, heh, heh, the voice chuckled. The bed shook, just a little, with each short laugh.

Douglas hung his head. He didn’t mean to cry, but it was all he could do. The tears dripped from his eyes, rolled down his cheeks, and fell – plit, plit, plit – on his pillow.

And then it hit him. He knew just how to escape.

Douglas slipped silently out from underneath his covers. He grabbed his pillow in one hand and scooted on his bottom to the foot of the bed. He could hear the thing underneath shifting around, following the sound of his movements.

Taking a deep breath, Douglas dropped the pillow beside the bed. As soon as it hit the ground with an airy pluff, Douglas shot from the foot of the bed. In two quick bounds Douglas was at the door, nimbly twisting the doorknob, bursting into the brightly lit hallway. He slammed the door shut behind him, sinking down to the ground with his back against the sealed off room.

When he looked up he saw both of his parents staring down at him.

“Honey?” mom said. “What’s going on?”

Douglas could not speak. He continued to gasp for the breath he lost in his dash to safety.

But from out of the corner of his eye he noticed Donald standing still in his doorway. In one hand he held his battered, brown stuffed bear. On his face was plastered a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Slowly – very slowly – Donald raised his other hand up to his face. He put his index finger in front of his grinning lips and whispered very softly, shhhhhh.

The End.

Copyright 2008 Josh Shaver

A Halloween Story (part I)

UNDER THE BED

Douglas Grayson was convinced the voice came from under his bed. The voice was no louder than a whisper, but he was sure he heard something.

Sooon, the voice had said. I’ll see you soon.

Douglas sat with his back against the headboard, clutching the covers tight against his chest. His heart was beating quick and loud and his breath was caught somewhere between his lungs and open mouth.

It was late and dark. Douglas’ eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and he was able to make out his desk, the chest of drawers, his closet, and the T.V. Everything in its place, just as it should be.

Turning his ear to listen once more, Douglas sought the sound that had awoken him from what he remembered to be quite the cheery dream. There were puppies and ice cream and no school. Even his little brother Donald was nowhere to be seen. It was the kind of dream no one would want to leave.

But that voice – that sneaky, slick hiss – pulled him out of wonderland. And into darkness.

And into fear and frantic eyes searching a still room.

Douglas listened. Nothing. No sound but that of the wind outside tapping gently against the side of the house.

Maybe it was all in his imagination, Douglas thought. His mother had warned him about watching scary movies right before bed. Of course scary movies had never bothered him before. Tonight he was even able to convince Donald that Chuck vs. the Zombies was totally appropriate for a five year old, and not in the least bit terrifying or frightening.

It didn’t take but five minutes and one slow-moving, hideously disfigured, moaning zombie to send Donald silently screaming from the sofa.

Donald had not said a word in the six months since Douglas had popped out from inside his closet one night as he was just about to fall asleep. Wearing a blood-red clown’s nose and sharp, hairy wolf man claws, Douglas had simply scared the voice right out of his little brother.

Could little Donald be out for revenge? He was small enough, Douglas thought. He could have slipped under the bed as I was sleeping. He had given Douglas an eerie twitch of a smile as he padded in his pajama-clad feet off to bed that night.

“Donny?” Douglas whispered. “Is that you?”

The room was silent. Nothing moved. Nothing answered back.

Douglas relaxed. His white-knuckle grip on the sheets loosened. He took a deep breath. Moving to the side of his bed, Douglas dropped his head into the space between his bed and the floor.

Ssssoooon, the voice spat from deep underneath the bed.

Douglas jerked his head up and slammed his back against the headboard. He threw the bedcovers over his head, hugging his knees tightly between shaking arms.

Definitely not Donald.

(to be continued)

Copyright 2008 Josh Shaver