Darkness Falls…

“Why are your lights off?” My father asked when he called around 10pm. “I’m just checking on you.”

“I took my nightly meds, felt dizzy, and went to bed to listen to the radio,” I replied.

“Well, it’s not like you to not be up this time of the night,” He said. “It just worries me. You keep weird hours when you are drinking.”

The night before he was worried because I stayed up too late. I just can't win. I assured Dad that nothing was wrong and we got off the phone finally after some small talk. He sounded like he had a rough day and seemed so tired. He now thinks that I should not go up to Birmingham for the birth of my sister’s baby. He feels it will be too much on me and that I will get off kilter. I wish he would just let me decide such things for myself.

I lay in the bed for the longest time after that listening to that far flung radio station out of New Orleans. Midnight rolled around and Coast to Coast AM came on followed by discussions of aliens and UFOs. It always makes me smile and amuses me so much when people call in and pontificate so seriously about something not real and imagined. Humans are such interesting creatures.

Half in and out of sleep, I laid there in the dark until Maggie started to bark up a storm. It scared the shit out of me and my heart started to race. I pulled on some shorts and walked to the back door to look outside to my backyard alit by the lone fluorescent glow of my porch light. A lone possum went ambling across the yard, stopped, and turned to look my way with glowing green eyes.

“Hush girl,” I told Maggie. “It is just a possum and harmless.”

That didn’t daunt Maggie though. It took a good thirty minutes to calm her down. I call her my Stone Age alarm system; probably better than anything you could ever buy from Brinks. I finally got Maggie calmed down and curled back up in the bed with me. She spends the longest time primping herself which is one of our nightly rituals she undergoes. I finally drifted off to blissful sleep after Maggie had settled down.

3am rolled around with me wide awake. I blearily looked at my bedside alarm clock in horror to find I had another long early morning ahead of me. One of my deepest desires and wishes these days is to get a full, good night’s sleep that so eludes me these days. It seems I am always up well before the crack of dawn.

Well, let me go get some coffee started while I listen to the radio and wait for dawn to arrive. I have just four hours to go until that glorious sun shines through my windows. Good day.

High as a Kite

Ok, I just took my nightly medications so in about 30 minutes I will be feeling pretty drunk so that's the end of this blog broadcasting day...

My Living Mentally Healthy Plan

This plan went into action today…

1. Maintain my weight at 190. I am 6 foot 3 inches tall. My ideal weight is 195. I tend to lose unwillingly and without thought. I gained like crazy when I was on Zyprexa and there is talk by my father and my doctor that they may put me back on it to quell my “episodes.” I will just sleep all the time and the blog will probably die if they do. I will be a real life version of Night of the Living Zombie.
   


2. No drinking what-so-ever. I will not take my medications when I am drinking because I am too drunk to care. This means getting on a regular schedule of Alcoholics Anonymous meetings once again. I have been kind of lax these past two weeks. 90 meetings in 90 days as they say.


3. Daily exercise. I need to get back to hiking six miles every day. I am easing back into it. Today, I hiked three miles and thoroughly enjoyed it and the gorgeous weather we are having.


4. No girlfriends or sexual relationships. I have found both just complicate things way too much for my liking. I would rather be celibate and alone. Yes, I will get lonely and it will be hard, but the alternative is no better and many times worse. My mental health is just too fragile and can’t take the complications of a long term sexual relationship with a woman.


5. Concentrate on getting finished with my house and getting moved in. This will give me some breathing room from my completely overbearing family. Dad called me today and made a remark about how late I stayed up last night and whether or not I had taken my nightly medications. That gets old being watched like that.


6. Take my omega-3 fish oil and multi-vitamins religiously. Luckily, I get these items for free from my father’s pharmacy.


7. Take my anti-psychotic, anti-anxiety, and anti-obsessive compulsive medications religiously and without fail. This is the key to everything above.
   

Spring is on the Way

I updated the photo blog this morning with some pictures taken around the house. Iris Blue had asked for the link to it enjoying the pictures. The links to my other blogs are at the very top of this blog above the header graphic. I know you all are just dying to read my weather blog! *sarcasm* LOL Hope you enjoy…

*Spring is on the way.

Pawns in Play…

George went and sold his car stereo at the pawn shop this morning for the grand total of $20 dollars.

“These places are the biggest rip off,” I told him as we sat in his car waiting for the shop to open.

“I needs the money,” George said, looking deflated at my saying that.

The shop finally opened and I walked around looking as George did his business with the proprietor. It is amazing to see what people will sell for a few bucks. You could find almost anything in there from knives, to chainsaws, to bicycles, to DVD players, etc.

“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” George said in a huff as he walked by me unhappy with what the shop had offered him. It was a $200 dollar stereo, but George took the twenty bucks anyway.

“I told you so,” I said as we climbed back into George’s car.

“I need gas money to make money today,” He replied, surly.

We drove through the drive-thru at McDonald's and got some coffee and sausage biscuits, George’s treat, and then headed back over to the shopping center to park for George to wait on his first customer of the day after filling up George’s car with fifteen dollars of gas.

“What you be going to do today?” George asked me as we sat in the parking lot waiting.

“Same ole shit,” I replied. “I will go home and write about this.”

George laughed.

“I need to give you more interesting things to write about,” He said as he grinned.

“No, no, things are fine. They are interesting enough,” I replied. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

It was the morning after Sunday and one of the rare times that George is sober. They don’t sell alcohol here on the Lord’s Day. George was itching to get a drink though and told me so.

“Go buy dis brotha a beer,” He told me as we sat in the car.

George had spent his new found twenty dollars for breakfast and gas. Whether he drank or not depended on how many rides for money he gave today.

“Man, I am broke as well,” I said. “I can’t even afford a dollar beer.”

“You be havin’ Daddy Warbucks,” George said of my father.

“If I go to him for money then he will think I have started back drinking,” I replied. “I would rather just be broke and muddle on through this.”

I borrowing money is a sure sign of me drinking again so Dad would be right to be wary.

George’s first customer of the day finally came walking out of the grocery store, recognizing George’s car, and waved. It was an older black lady carrying four plastic bags of groceries that lived nearby. Her hands were full.

“Here we go,” George said excitedly as he rubbed his hands together.

“I’ll see ya man,” I said as I got out of the car and walked on home to a beautiful and glorious spring morning with the temperatures hovering in the sixties. Here’s to hoping it will be a grand day. It got off to an interesting start.

Run, Maggie, Run…

My father called me this afternoon.

“Look out your window,” He said.

I looked out and Dad was standing in my backyard next to Maggie’s fence.

“Let’s let Maggie out and let her run her heart out.”

I smiled as I hung up the phone and walked outside to watch. Maggie was in heaven having free reign over me and my father’s yards. She ran until she could run no more. She had a good time chasing my father’s cat, The Duchess.

Dad then got supper started. I sat in the kitchen and watched as he boiled some thin spaghetti noodles, prepared a pot of spaghetti sauce, and cut up a Caesar salad.

“We will eat in thirty minutes,” He said. “Go get your mother out of bed.”

I walked down the large hall to my mother’s bedroom.

“Mom, supper’s almost ready.”

“What are we having?” She asked looking out from under her covers.

“Dad’s special recipe spaghetti.”

“That sounds wonderful,” She said as she hurriedly got up and got dressed to walk into the kitchen to sit down.

I did get to talk to my sister on the phone. Her baby is due any day now, but she sounded good. Talking to my sister on the phone is always awkward though. Her being a doctor and me just being a lowly plebeian makes me feel uncomfortable. I know I shouldn’t feel that way about my own sister.

We then ate supper and it was delicious. We had spaghetti, buttered and toasted barbecue bread, and a Caesar salad. Dad then cooked an orange marmalade sauce for dessert and we drizzled it over pieces of toasted pound cake. It was a wonderful evening that I will remember for the longest time. I feel so good tonight. Thanks for reading.

Email Roundup Part Deux

You say you have social phobias and social anxiety, and yet your life is filled with people and interactions. Please help me understand, a person wrote today. You have a vibrant social life.

Have you ever noticed who I hang out with? All people with little social standing outside our own little clique. I am not very far up the social totem pole.

A person had written me an email not too long ago saying they know how I feel. They felt more comfortable hanging out with social misfits, street people, homeless people, and drunkards. I feel the same despite coming from a locally socially prestigious family. I feel like a duck out of water when I am thrown within the social confines of my father’s friends.

With George, Big S, Rosa, and the gang, I feel comfortable. They accept me for who I am limitations and all. I could be the biggest fall down drunk and George would still be my friend and be a part of my life. I could talk to myself constantly crazy while un-medicated and Rosa would still want to sleep with me and have something to do with me. I could be homeless and Dumpster Diving Dan would embrace me, faults and all, and teach me the tricks of the trade of surviving off the trash of the rest of society.

That’s why I feel so comfortable and at ease around such people. The gang is a very unassuming bunch. Throw me into a mix of my father’s friends and I am an awkward, bumbling, social idiot that stammers upon his words and who would rather be in hell than such a situation. I guess it can be hard to understand and even harder to explain.

Ferret, where have you been?

I hadn’t seen Ferret in months. I finally got to see him today as he came sauntering down the sidewalk in front of the dollar store at the shopping center. I was sitting eating my favorite cheese-on-wheat crackers and drinking a chocolate milk just glad to be out of the house.

“Well, son of a bitch!” I said exuberantly as I looked up and saw him walking towards me. I thought I had seen a ghost.

“Hey brotha,” Ferret said as he clasped my hand in that handshake so popular with black men.

“How are things going and what have you been doing?” I asked enthusiastically, so glad to see him.

“I work all the time,” Ferret said. “I am working down at the auto parts store near Kroger.”

“You still on disability?”

“No, I dropped it when I started working full time,” He said. “It wasn’t enough to live on.”

I know how Ferret feels. Disability is a paltry amount to support yourself upon. I often dream of just getting a part time job to supplement my income. Luckily, I have no monthly bills other than utilities, groceries, and gas for my car. I haven’t had to pay rent in a long time. It makes life much easier on me although I have had to pay a small fortune in renovations for my new house.

For those of you new to Ferret, I and Ferret have long been friends. He has had a history of homelessness and alcoholism. He lived in a tent by the river for the longest time and I tried my best to help see about him. We grew to be fast friends due to our mutual experiences with homelessness and drinking. Ferret has also had a history of mental illness and is on medications these days to control the symptoms and the medications are working extremely well.

“Have you seen George?” Ferret then asked me. “He owes me forty dollars and that is why I am down here today hoping to catch up with him.”

I laughed. Good ole George, I thought.

“He owes me twenty dollars as well and I need it badly,” I replied. “And no, I haven’t seen him today. He usually doesn’t work on Sundays. Sundays is a hard day for him as they don’t sell beer as you well know.”

Ferret chuckled.

“Something’s never change,” He said.

I smiled and agreed. Some things never change especially when it concerns George. George is like a broken record most days repeating the same old segment of song ad nauseum.

I and Ferret talked for a short while longer. I found out he is still renting the room from George’s cousin Monte. It was so good to see him and we both gave each other a hearty hug when he was about to head on his way.

“Don’t be a stranger for so long next time,” I told him as he started to walk away. I had missed him deeply.

“I’ll call you,” He said. “We have much to get caught up on. Life has been busy.”

I smiled as I sat back down to finish my snack. Man, it was good to see Ferret, I thought.

Sleepless Nights…

I tossed and turned until my covers were a mess and finally just got on up. That is such a miserable feeling and state of being. At least, I have all day to sleep which will throw my schedule into helter skelter. It shows how I can’t take too much going on in my life.

All was quiet on the home front last night despite my greatest fears. Carolyn never showed up and I never got another call.

“Has she shown up yet?” My father asked when he called to check on me.

“Thankfully no,” I replied. “I didn’t want to have to deal with all that tonight.”

“Well, you go get some rest and I will talk to you in the morning. Don’t forget to take your nightly meds.”

“I’ve already taken them.”

“Good,” He said. “You go to sleep.”

I hung up the phone unaware of the long night ahead of me.

The Dissin’ Man…

“Are you gonna keep dissin’ me?” Rosa asked me angrily as I sat down at the shopping center after eating lunch at Rodger’s today. She had walked up to speak to me.

“The whole thing was a mistake,” I replied once again for the umpteenth time.

“You didn’t think so when you were going down on me and making love to me.”

I cringed at those words and got up to walk away.

“I see how you are going to be,” She hollered after me as I kept walking. "Nombre cobarde! (coward)"

I just wanted to get away. I just couldn’t take all that today. My nerves are kind of shaky after a broken night of sleep. I and Rosa were such good friends before we happened to sleep together and I went and ruined it all. I can be such a dolt when I am drinking.

I then stepped into the dollar store to buy a cheap can of mixed nuts. I’ve been hooked on those things lately and they are only a dollar a can being on sale.

“Sir,” A lady standing at the cash register said as I walked in the door. “We have a new policy. You can’t bring that backpack in here.”

“Will you hold it for me?” I asked.

“Sure,” She said as she smiled, “But I can’t be responsible for anything lost or stolen.”

“On second thought, I will just leave,” I replied thinking of my $350 dollar Canon camera in my backpack. It would just devastate me if something happened to my camera.

I walked on home as a tear erupted from my eye and rolled down my cheek as I thought of Rosa. I really didn’t mean for us sleeping together to happen. I had just had too much to drink and made an inebriated error in judgment. I arrived home to find another call on my answering machine from Carolyn.

Are you avoiding me? I have called three times today and you will not answer. I really need to talk to you. We need to talk about what happened Thursday night. If I don’t get in touch with you today, then I am coming over tonight. Call me.

I sighed. I am being bombarded on all fronts. My life can grow so complicated sometimes and it is my own fault. I am better off just being celibate and alone. It certainly makes life much easier.

I then called my father for advice.

“Don’t answer the door or the phone tonight,” He told me. “You don’t have to deal with that kind of shit.”

“I know,” I said. “But it will probably just get worse.”

“Give me her phone number and I will call her and tell her to leave you alone.”

“No,” I said. “That will make things even more complicated. You don’t know Carolyn. She can have a one track mind.”

“She is way too old for you anyway,” He said. “We need to find you a nice young girl near you own age.”

“I think I am better off alone,” I replied.

“Remember, your sister’s baby is due Monday,” My father said changing the subject. “Have a suitcase packed and ready to go. You are going to ride with us to Birmingham as soon as she goes into labor.”

“Ok,” I said thinking of the mound of laundry sitting in my hall. “I will get some clothes washed and ready today.”

“You just come over and spend the night with your mother and me tonight,” My father then said.

“No, I need to face this,” I replied. “Too many times I have ran from my problems in the past. I have just got to tell Carolyn that it is over and that she has got to stop bothering me.”

“Just don’t drink over this, ok?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Well, this all is going to worry the shit out of me. You call me tonight and let me know you are sober.”

“I will,” I replied. "I am going to get to an AA meeting this evening."

We both hung up the phone and I sat down in my lazy boy lounge chair to rest as Maggie jumped up into my lap to take a nap.

At least, I have one woman in my life that is not just driving me absolutely bat shit crazy, I thought.

Lazy Friday Nights…

It’s Friday night and I am curled up in my lazy boy listening to the radio as I smoke a cigar and write in my paper journal. There is something so empyreal about putting pen to paper in a tangible and old fashioned way.

Friday March 9, 2007

It has been a good day, I write. Quiet Fridays like today make living on this earth a little more bearable. I am still worried about Pipe Tobacco and haven’t heard from him since the first of March. I know he is going through a hard time.

Helen cooked a wonderful meal this evening and I got to spend time with Mom and Dad. After supper, Dad curled up on the couch in his pajamas while my mother asked him questions which drove him crazy. I sat in the chair next to the kitchen to take all this in.

I stop to take a drink of coffee and to pull again from my cigar as the phone rings. I don’t answer. I let my answering machine pick up.

Andrew, you there? Just worried about you when you didn’t call me back last night. Sorry about the whole friends thing. I was just having a hard night. I don’t know what I want, but I do want you. Call me when you get home.

Hell, I am not going to call you, I think. I have had enough of all that bullshit. The message ends as she hangs up. I continue writing.

I am really looking forward to going camping and hiking soon. I must get my legs back in shape. I was doing so well for awhile there hiking six miles every day. As is usual, I grew bored with the same route I took and quit. I don’t know why I just didn’t try a different route and continue. I so enjoyed it.

Maggie walks into the den and plops down in front of the gas heater next to my chair. I reach down and rub her head and scratch her back. She is in ecstasy.

“You ready to go to bed, girl?” I ask her as she looks up at me.

I put out my cigar and walk into the kitchen to pour my now lukewarm coffee out. I then make sure the backdoor is locked as I turn on the porch light and extinguish the lights in my den. I curl up in the bed with Maggie at my side as I think about the day now behind me. I am such a creature of routine and habit, I muse. I must live such a simple life to do well. I turn off my bedside lamp, close my eyes, and go to sleep.

A Quiet Meal…

Lunch time once again found me sitting at Roger’s Barbecue alone. I ate two barbecue sandwiches and a bag of potato chips along with a side of potato salad. I had called my mother earlier with a phobia that I was out of money on my tab. I have this extreme fear of getting caught in an awkward situation and I am broke after paying the workers for my kitchen floor and for Maggie’s fence.

“Surely, you haven’t eaten up a hundred dollars this shortly,” My mother said.

“No, I am just worried that they won’t recognize me or won’t put it on my tab,” I replied.

“Are you taking your medications?” My mother asked sounding perplexed.

“Yes.”

“You go over there and eat some lunch. You have plenty of money on your tab.”

“Okay,” I said timidly as I hung up and got in my car and drove the 5 minutes to the restaurant.

When I arrived home, Charlie’s wife had called me. She couldn’t get on the internet.

“You have Knology, right?” I asked.

“Yes,” She said. “I get a 404 error, page not found, when I open internet explorer.”

“I’ll be right over.”

I drove over which was back across the river and rebooted her cable modem and got her back on the internet.

“Come on,” Janice said. “Let’s go fill up your car for helping me.”

This was much needed as my car was almost out of gas and I am broke until next month.

“Thank you so much,” I said as Janice stepped out of my car to swipe her debit card at the gas pump.

I then took Janice home and then drove over to my new house just to look at and admire things. Just another boring day in my life; I really didn’t have anything else to write about and I just wanted to write. I hope you don’t mind.

Just Friends…

“Let’s just be friends,” Carolyn told me tonight on the phone after a lengthy conversation that was going nowhere just a moment ago.

“Ok,” I said nonchalantly.

“What?” She said exasperated hoping I would fight for my girl or either beg her to stay my gal. “You are not going to give me shit?”

“No,” I said. “I think ‘just friends’ is a good idea. It is not like we get to see each other anymore anyway.”

“Okay,” She said sounding sort of confused and bewildered. “I will talk to you later.”

If big momma wanted a ticket to date other men, then she had my blessing and a first class seat on that train ride. I have grown increasingly tired of our on-again, off-again relationship. I just wasn’t getting much out of it.

The phone rang once more just after I had hung up. I picked it up.

“Hello?” I asked.

“You sure you’re not mad at me?” Carolyn asked.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“People are supposed to fight and stuff when they break up.”

“I am tired of fighting and being mad and shit,” I replied.

“Ok,” She said sounding even more bewildered as we got off the phone once again.

Years ago I would have drank myself into a stupor over this. My divorce left me a homeless drunkard I was so devastated. You know what I did? I ate a leftover piece of pizza, popped open a coke, and sat down to write this immediately feeling better.

It was good while it lasted. I and Carolyn had some wonderful times together, but the spark in our relationship had long since faded and died. I really do wish her the best and hopefully she will find some guy who has much less “issues” as she calls them than me. Che sara, sara. What will be, will be as the Italians say.

For Annabel…

Just to let you all know I haven’t been sitting on my duff these past few weeks as far as my new house is concerned, I put up some pictures from this morning on my photo blog. The workmen came and put my new kitchen floor in this morning and I paid them. I also got my kitchen, laundry room, and bathroom painted. The only thing left is the kitchen cabinets and I am just going to put a fresh coat of white upon them in the next few days when I get up some money to buy some more paint. The blue on the dish washer is just a protective plastic covering. It will be white when I take it off. A contractor is coming by today to give me an estimate on Maggie's fence. I am pretty sure I am going to accept the offer and work will commence.

This has been a two year project and the end is in sight. I will be moving in two to three weeks. I am so freakin' excited!!!! I have been living in limbo ever since my divorce years ago.

*You can check out the photos over at my photo blog.

Email Roundup…

I am so terrible with email. If you email me, it may take me a week to get back to you so don’t despair or think I am being an asshole as some have. I just don’t like it as a medium even though I enjoy writing so much. My social awkwardness carries over into that avenue of communication as well. I do enjoy reading them though. Here were a few emails about the blog today and my answers. I thought this would be fun.

*You are going to be the next spokesperson for pork with the amount of barbeque, bacon, and ham you eat, one person wrote me today.

I burst out laughing when I read that. They got an email back with me writing to them that I agreed. Cholesterol is the least of my health worries though. Believe me.

*Why do you put those damn aggravating adsense adverts on your blog? They don’t make money. I only made a few cents a day with mine and took them off. They are distracting, another person wrote.

I made fifty dollars last month off of those ads. That is five cartons of the cigars I like to smoke and I smoke a carton a week. It is paying off nicely. Please ignore them if they bother you and certainly don’t click upon them. They paid for my smoking habit so your tax dollars didn’t have to as I have often been chided for over the years of my writing and blogging ventures when I exposed my source of income. Disability is not welfare, by the way. It is a social insurance I paid years of taxes to get. :-)

A Delicate Dance in the Pale Moonlight…

The sun was just rising over the horizon this morning as I looked at my watch. The hands read 7:15am.

“Damn, he is late,” I muttered speaking of George.

George was supposed to meet me for breakfast at the diner before his first patron of the day. He never showed. I could picture him still lying in bed with a hangover feeling terrible.

I went ahead, ordered, and quietly sat alone as I ate my fried ham, hash brown potatoes, and eggs. It was a sufficiently artery clogging meal that left me well satisfied. I pulled on my coat, and then my backpack as I started the walk home.

As I walked behind the shopping center to meet the road that runs to my house, good ole Dumpster Diving Dan was busily poking through a dumpster’s trash with his rubber hip waders on.

“Hello!” Dan said heartily as I passed by and stopped. “It is a brisk morning.”

The temperature was hovering around 40 degrees and it certainly was chilly.

“You haven’t seen George, have you?” I asked.

“I haven’t seen him in weeks,” Dan said.

“Oh, he is back in town after a vacation of sorts,” I said as I smiled.

“When he disappears, it always makes me think he is in jail.”

“You read my mind, my friend,” I replied.

I left Dan to continue on with his diving and walked on home.

________________________________________________

When I first awoke this morning, the house reeked of smoke; the kind of smoke that only a campfire imparts. It was like I was homeless all over again. After checking the house for fire, I looked outside to see a smoky haze throughout my neighborhood in the dim light of the street lamp next to my driveway. I got in my car and drove around in the predawn dark looking for houses on fire. I then drove out Spring Road to find those beautiful woods, where I so like to camp, ablaze. It looked like some scene out of hell with lines of fire running brightly through the forest alighting the burning trees in a hue of bright red.

I arrived home after my short drive to take a shower and get dressed to go meet George. My father called just about as I was stepping out the door to walk down to the diner.

“Did you smell smoke this morning?” Dad said. “I went out to get the paper and it looked like fog it was so thick. I thought your house was on fire. I walked around to the backyard to look and see if you were okay.”

“It’s out Spring Road,” I replied. “The woods are on fire. Some dipshit must have thrown out a cigarette.”

“Well, just glad you are okay,” My father said as we got off the phone.

________________________________________________

Late last night found me out in the backyard trying to get some pictures of the almost full moon with the new digital camera tripod Carolyn had bought me. It was a delicate dance in the pale moonlight trying to see what I was doing. None of my pictures turned out. I realized this morning my error. I had forgotten to set the camera to night scene mode which greatly increases the exposure time, reduces the ISO speed, and opens the aperture. I will try again tonight and hopefully some pictures of a star gilded moon will adorn my photo blog.

Well, let me go get some more lunch and coffee started. I think I shall have some bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches for lunch accompanied by some French fries and a few kosher dill pickle spears. My stomach is certainly grumbling. Good day.

Have you ever been to Glocca Morra?

“Have you ever been to Glocca Morra?” I asked George early this morning.

As is usual this time of year in the South, the days are very warm and the nights are very cool. We sat in George’s car with the engine on and the heat running trying to warm up. George’s car smells of old well used sweaty sneakers and stale cigars. Not exactly the most olfactory pleasing thing first thing in the morning.

“Glocca what?” George said as he laughed.

“I don’t know either,” I said. “It was just something the homeless guy wrote on his blog the other day; sounds tropical. Sounded like he was fixing to take off on another one of his road trips.”

“Dat motherfucker be more full of shit than a five gallon bucket of cow manure,” George said as I reached into my backpack to bring out my camera. “If he can travel to tropical places then he can drive a car like me and make a living.”

I often keep George informed on what the so called homeless guy is doing. We both find him fascinating in a weird feel sorry for ineptitude kind of way. I tend to trust George’s street instincts on this matter and agree the guy is full of shit. George says he knows a con artist when he sees one.

“Come on. Let me take a picture,” I said as I turned my camera on as the Canon sound rang out in the car.

“You ain’t plasterin’ my mug all over dem internets,” He said as he pushed my camera away.

I laughed. I did so want to put a picture of George upon the blog. I don’t want to endanger him though.

“What are you going to do today?” George then asked me as we both lit up cigars watching the early morning people coming to and fro from the shopping center.

“My life is simple,” I replied, “And has to be. I will probably just take it easy. Write about this. Eat a good lunch. Try not to drink. Take my medications, etc.”

“Sounds like a nice life,” George said as the blue smoke of his cigar billowed around his face casting a hazy hue to the now warm air in the car.

“I know it sounds nice,” I said, “But it is hard for me to maintain and can be a struggle. My normal state is chaos.”

“You ain’t dat crazy,” George said. “You white boys just all tend to be a little off.”

I burst out laughing at George saying that. He is probably right. My good friend Charlie says we are all a little crazy in our own way in my defense. I don’t like to delve too much into my mental issues though with George as he will get drunk and blather about them.

I left George to sit in his car waiting for his first patron of the day as I walked down to buy two $1.99 bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits and a large coffee from the diner. As I walked home, in the cool morning air, eating my breakfast, I noticed so many cool photo opportunities for me to explore today. Maybe I will pry myself from this computer long enough to get them upon my photo blog once the sun has risen high and the light is just right for photos. It will be good for me. I have been trying not to be a hermit and to stay in the house as I tend to do when feeling ill. Calmer days have arrived. It feels good to be back. I could never write like this when I on in one of my “episodes” as my father calls them. Good day.

The Return of George…

“Where has Rosa been?” I asked, late this afternoon.

George was in fine spirits today. I was so glad to see he hadn’t been in jail. George has been in Florida visiting with some relatives. I bet that was an interesting family get together. I can imagine George and a few cohorts laughing jovially over the cheapest beer you can buy as ground beef patties sizzled on a charcoal grill in the wonderfully warm Florida sun.

“I heard you two did the ole horizontal tango,” George said of I and Rosa with the biggest, goofiest grin. “You go get ‘em tiger.”

News travels fast with the gang. George knows all the gossip on the misfits that hang out down at the shopping center. Dumpster Diving Dan seems to be the only mystery as far as George is concerned. I understand him the best as we are both eccentric souls.

“Don’t remind me,” I said bemoaning the fact that had happened. “I was drunk as hell.”

“I thought you don’t drink anymore?” George asked has he lit up a cigar and then handed me the pack offering me one. “You put on the ole beer goggles, eh? That Rosa ain’t exactly a looker.”

“I usually don’t,” I replied of my drinking, taking a brief pause to light up that cheap White Owl. “I just got in a bad spell and had a weak moment.”

George left me for a moment to sit with Big S. Big S was in a surly mood today. I noticed Big S wasn’t wearing his usual blue jean overalls and had on a well worn and comfortable looking flannel shirt. The red and black checkered shirt stood out sharply against the background of his ebony skin.

“What’s bit you in the ass?” I asked him.

“My life sucks,” He said in a rare moment when a black man will show weakness. “The takings have been terrible as far as my ‘job’ goes.”

I chuckled softly not really to belittle Big S and the fact that life has been tough. I could just think of a thousand easier ways to make money than sitting out front of a grocery store begging people for spare change all day.

George then walked out carrying a cheap bottle of Wild Irish Rose wrapped in a paper bag.

“You want a drink?” He asked pushing the bottle towards me.

“Uggg!” I said tersely as I pushed his hand away thinking of the hangover I had a few days ago.

“What’s this shit about you going around saying I am crazy?” I then asked him with a stern look on my face.

“I don’t know what you be talkin’ about,” George replied with a mystified look upon his face.

“You drunk son of bitch,” I said realizing he was so drunk he didn’t remember.

“Dat nigga sho did go around saying all dat,” Big S said enjoying our little tussle of words.

George just smiled as he took another drink of that swill they try to pass as wine. It is more akin to cough syrup.

“I ain’t gettin’ in dis,” George said as I got up to walk home.

It was good to see George and even better that I managed to avoid Rosa. She has that fiery temper that Hispanic women are known for. I smiled as I walked home just glad he was ok. George and I have gone through a lot of shit over the years and nothing could break our bond. The tulip tree was blooming and the first buds of the azaleas are opening. The sweet smell of this year’s camellias drifted across the road as I walked by. It was a fine early spring late afternoon. I hope it gets even better. You will find me a different man once spring officially arrives. The woods are calling.

Can’t Leave Well Enough Alone…

...and it bit me in the ass. I completely screwed my good computer today. I managed to get my backup one working by adding an old Pentium 4 processor I had lying around and some spare RAM. S-L-O-O-O-W! This computer is so slow and choppy. I was so spoiled by my fast blogging computer and the RAID hard drive array I had set up using two 10K Raptor drives.

What happened was that I dropped a screw next to the processor causing the heat sink to not sit properly upon it as I was adding another Pentium 4 Prescott that was much faster and had a much better level 2 cache. DUH! *slaps forehead* The processor literally burned up within moments of booting the computer up. You could smell it in my den.

Dammit! When it rains, it pours. I can’t afford another at the moment. Hopefully, I can get a new motherboard and processor for my birthday which is the 12th of April. It is going to be a long March with this old POS. I have gone back 4 years in computer time as far as the technology is concerned. Oh well, you have to roll with the punches.

______________________________________________

I had a nice fellow in Scotland email me about the templates on my blogs awhile back. I am terrible with email. I just don’t have the time to write to everyone who emails me about this main blog. I do try. He wondered where I got my template ideas. Beautiful Beta is your one stop shop for all your nonstandard template needs. I gleaned most of my ideas from Hans. He freely gives out the code and his ideas, but you can make a pay-pal donation if you want in appreciation.

Mom to the Rescue…

“When was the last time you ate?” My mother asked me over the phone. My father didn’t even ask this when he saw me. He was too concerned about checking my refrigerator for beer and berating me once again for being "crazy."

“I have some breakfast foods left and a loaf of bread in the freezer for toast and sandwiches,” I replied.

“You don’t have enough to eat,” She said. “I noticed the other day that you have lost way too much weight again.”

Mom then drove over to Rodger’s and bought me several pounds of chunked pork barbeque (which was very expensive) and a gallon of Brunswick stew to put in the freezer. She knows these are my favorite foods and I will actually eat them.

“Did you use my tab?” I asked speaking of the running tab I have at the restaurant.

“Yes,” She said. “But you were almost out of money. I added a hundred dollars.”

I vaguely remember eating there the other day. I think I got the southern fried catfish platter with three whole catfish fillets. It turned out they had called the police concerning me as I seemed kind of incoherent.

“You don’t remember talking to the police?” Mom asked.

“No,” I replied. “I hope nothing bad happened.”

“They drove you home and made sure you were safely inside with your door locked,” She said.

“Please don’t tell Dad,” I said emphatically.

“That will stay between you and me,” Mom said.

“You remember what I used to would do when I got off my medications, don’t you?” She then asked.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t go in the house and sat out in the yard all day,” I replied.

“You take your medications. You don’t want to be like that,” She said.

“I will,” I replied honestly knowing I took all those pills last night. I couldn’t write this if I didn’t.

Mom left to go to the grocery store to restock my pantry and refrigerator with food. See? My mother understands. She knows from her own experiences with schizophrenia how it affects me. She takes a high dosage of Zyprexa. I am too afraid to take it due to the extreme sedation I experience and concerns about it causing diabetes. There are numerous class action law suits out over that issue. The best I ever did was on Zyprexa despite the extreme sleepiness. That was when I got married and had a semblance of a normal life. We lived in the suburbs with a new home, car, and my beloved Suzuki motorcycle. We even bought an old 1969 Chevrolet Nova in pristine condition. I was also able to hold down a job.

I love you mom, I thought as I sat at my kitchen table eating that delicious barbeque until getting full. I do so love you. You understand and you don't berate me.

Crazy is as Crazy does…

I was just sitting here and eating my bacon, eggs, and toast as I thought, I have got to get back on track. There should be some kind of brain chemical analyzer on my computer that doesn’t let me write on such days. I really got it in my head that leaving town was the only viable option. I wanted to be homeless, because I thought it would be a more stable environment than my home. That’s sad and crazy. Next time you see some crazy homeless man on the corner talking to himself think that could have been my friend Andrew.

Well, here’s to getting back to stable this week. It can sometimes take a week to get back on track after I go off my medications for a few days during one of my “episodes” as my father calls them. I feel much more rational with even thinking this morning. My father never showed up to take my car keys and credit cards away last night. He just worries that I will get in the car and kill someone when I get to thinking so crazy. Who knows? I could have tried to drive to Nashville last night in my fit of craziness and really got into some trouble. Lost, paranoid, and most likely ending up in jail.

Reality Sets In…

My friend Kristen called me and talked some sense into me. It was good to hear her voice.

I must once again relinquish control and give my wallet and car keys to my father tonight. That is hard for me to do being 34 years old. I just got myself into a pickle over this whole drinking and Rosa deal. I am a terribly sensitive fellow if you don’t know by now.

“If you leave, then I am going to have Maggie put to sleep,” My father told me over the phone.

That hit home deeply. I would never want harm to come to Maggie. I have tried my best, despite my limitations, to take good care of her. She doesn’t lack for anything.

Well, I am just going to be quiet for awhile, take my nightly medications, and soon, hopefully, sleep will arrive.

Saying Goodbye…

“I just can’t do this anymore,” I told Rosa as she hugged me.

“Can’t do what?” She asked mystified.

“I can’t see you any longer,” I replied feeling terrible.

“So I was a cheap piece of ass then?” She then said.

“You were not a piece of ass and you were not cheap,” I replied emphatically.

Rosa left the house in a huff. I noticed she had taken one of my packs of cigars with her after she left. It was a small price to pay for my solitude. I can’t handle a lot of bullshit going on in my life when I am sober.

I walked to the fridge to look at the twelve pack of beer I had left there from a few days ago. I poured all of the damn things out. I felt better after sitting down and listening to the radio for awhile.

Sorry…

The chat was a bust, but I did talk with a few before 10 PM. I get to feeling what is akin to being drunk after taking my nightly medications. I laid down to let the feeling pass and missed the chat. I am sorry. Such is my life.

A cold front has roared through overnight. I can tell by the strong gusts of wind this time of the night. It reminds me so much of my homeless days it is uncanny. Such nights of cold winds were often a common occurrence. Thankfully, I have a little gas heater to turn on to stay warm these days. Thank you goes out to my father who has given me this home. I do so love him dearly.

Join me in a great conflagration...

Saturday nights find me in Mick William's Cyber-line chat room. Please do join us and join in on the chat. It will mean a lot to me. The chat starts at 10 PM eastern time. You might find the room empty until then. I will be there though. You will find me there as "BamaGuy."

He was fine before he met her…

Rosa sat in my den at lunch eating a sandwich I had fixed. My friend in Canada has emphatically told me to not let these “street people” in my home as Carolyn calls them.

“You are looking mighty fine this morning,” She said with an alluring voice.

“Rosa, don’t get mixed up with crazy,” I said earnestly trying to divert her affections. “I am crazy as hell.”

“I find you one of the most interesting people I have ever met,” She said diverting my dismissions.

“You want another sandwich?” I said changing the subject.

I walked into my kitchen as I put some more roast beef on a paper plate to be warmed in the microwave. I slathered on mayonnaise upon a piece of bread as I added another slice of tomato and a piece of lettuce. I was standing there adding some salt and pepper to the slice of tomato as the roast beef warmed in the microwave.

“You sure you don’t want to crawl into the bed again?” Rosa asked as I stood there making that sandwich.

“I was drunk and lonely,” I replied speaking of our little foray into the bed a few days ago trying not to hurt her feelings.

“I’ll get you in the end,” She said smiling demurely as she ate that other sandwich.

I stood there speechless and unable to respond. I fear I am stricken drunk or not. Once in a blue moon has been the story of my life.

The Magical Hour Arrives…

Dawn is arriving sooner and sooner. Spring is on the way much to my relief. The magical hour started well before dawn this morning. It started with the shrill song of a redbird. I call it the magical hour in that it was such an important time during my homeless days. The nights would be so cold and I knew dawn was on the way followed by much, much warmer temperatures. The magical hour beckoned forth the flourish of the sun’s warmth upon which I would sit by my campfire as I warmed my hands.

I and Maggie had a good night’s sleep. I have learned to make ample room for her on my single bed. If I don’t, it will find her at my feet which will drive me crazy. I awoke this morning to find her lying beside me sound asleep. I petted her and she rolled over to snuggle up beside me. I then walked into the den to turn on my gas heater. Maggie plopped down upon the floor to lie in front of it to bask in it’s heat. Our routines are so singular and without fail when I am not drinking.

Pipe Tobacco is still in my thoughts this morning. I know he will not read this. The last thing on his mind would be the internet and his blogging friends during this terrible time of strife. I wish I could call him to offer my support and well wishes. Unfortunately, we have never talked on the phone despite our long history as blogging friends. I do wish him the best. God speed once again my dear friend and know that you are not alone in the least. Your friends are thinking of you.

Sadness Reigns Supreme…

My good and dear friend Pipe Tobacco’s mother passed away this morning. I, of all people, will know how deeply this will affect him. He is such an emotional fellow much like me. I read about this on Abbagirl’s blog and the tears started to roll deeply down my cheeks. I know he will just be devastated.

Please offer him your condolences. He is a good fellow who has stuck by me through thick and thin. Many homeless days passed as he read my blog and offered words of support. Out of all the people I have encountered during my blogging days, he has been one of the most stalwart friends always wanting what is best for me. For that, I love him and will think of him all night as he goes through this hard time. God speed dear Pipe Tobacco and may your mother rest in peace.

Thoughts on a Setting Sun…

The sun will soon set. The horizon is already awash in great swashes of orange, red, and yellow. It has been a good day. I am so very proud for making it another day without drinking. The deal with drinking is that it is a self perpetuating cycle. Once you start again, it is so hard to quit. That first hung over day after a bout of alcoholism is the toughest. You want another drink to quell the aftermath, the nausea, and the shakes.

I just walked outside to smoke a cigar. My elderly neighbor is aimlessly tooling around in his front yard. He works constantly, but the yard never seems to improve. It reminded me of myself.

Dear man, you are a more stalwart soul than I, I thought as he pushed his wheel barrow through the yard. The weeds were ever growing and he had yet to pull them.

He looked up to find me smoking and waved. I waved back heartily. Life goes on in this small town like it always has. The shroud of the deep, dark past few days has lifted. Life once again gets back on track.

Photo Blog Updated...

I swear I am going to get regular about updating my other blogs. I posted some Maggie being Maggie moments today. I finally had to just pick her up and bring her inside before she ruined the lawn in the backyard. I guess she just got bored and decided to dig and dig some more.

Mom has been by this afternoon to bring Maggie's flea treatment and her heartworm medicine. It is the most hilarious moment trying to get Maggie to sit still long enough to put her flea medicine on. My mother has little to no patience with hyperactive little dogs. I couldn't help but glean the most enjoyment of mom growing exasperated as we tried to put on that Frontline.

"Your dog needs risperdal," Mom said of my medications for my schizophrenia which are extremely sedating.

"She just loves you and gets excited when you come over," I replied as my face flushed with a smile.

Maggie reacts totally different to my mother coming over rather than my father. I guess she can sense his no nonsense attitude. It was the same with us kids growing up. You could always argue with my mother and she would argue back like a child. You didn't dare do this with my father or you got whipped with a switch that you would have to go pick off of the bush yourself.

Enterprise Tornado

I updated the weather blog with an image of the tornado that raced through downtown Enterprise, Alabama. This tornado killed eight people. It is that time of the year folks for the South. We often get such squall lines in the spring. March roared in weatherwise with a sad beginning to the many lives affected by the storms from last night.

We got a lot of thunder and lightning the likes of which I haven't heard or seen since last year. Also, very strong gusts of wind at several times. Luckily, we escaped any damage here in town. I also have a lot of pictures from the damage in Fayette county. I will get those up in a minute upon the weather blog.

Close Computer Calls…

I am operating on just one computer these days. The bios battery in my server finally died after years of use. It is an older motherboard. I need to find a CR2081 coin cell battery somewhere to replace it. Maybe Dad can order me one down at his pharmacy next week.

Well, I just couldn’t leave well enough alone and decided to order some more memory for my main computer. I installed it, booted up through the bios, and it completely froze during the Windows splash screen. It took me thirty minutes to fix it and figure it out. I was booting to my spare hard drive that stores my music. This partition has a very old copy of Windows XP that I just saved to keep all my files and documents. I set my RAID array up as the bootable device and Windows Vista loaded fine. Whew! I got scared there for a minute and thought I had screwed something up badly. I would go nuts without a computer these days. It is hard to believe, but I didn’t even own one until I got married. Rachel constantly vied for my attention from that first computer. I was in technophile heaven.

Today will be a cool day. I ordered a new TV turner card for $40 bucks to use with media center in Windows Vista. My old TV tuner was circa 2000 and not compatible with this new operating system. I will be like a kid on Christmas day waiting for that sound of the big brown UPS truck pulling up outside. My package is already in Montgomery this morning and about to be on its way here. Ah, the marvel of modern internet package tracking. Good day.

An outpouring of concern…

I was going to delete the blog, but just took down some posts instead. I feel much more comfortable with it now. My friend Kristen called tonight. I can always count on a certain set of people to reach out to me when I am doing ill or untoward things. Diana also called as well and it was good to hear her voice. I have missed our conversations.

Tonight, found me sitting in those hallowed halls of alcoholics anonymous as Dumpster Diving Dan likes to call them. I occasionally have to remind myself why I don’t drink. When I drink, I will not take my medications and things can grow very interesting around Casa de Andrew.

“We all screw up sometimes,” Wanda told me tonight at AA. “The big kicker is getting up and doing something about it. “

She gave me the longest and most heartfelt hug.

“I need people like you in my life,” I told her very honestly as I hugged her.

“Next time you go do something stupid,” She said. “You call me instead. I am the Queen of doing stupid things. I can talk you out of it.”

I picked up another white poker chip as the AA meeting ended. It was a symbol of how crazy my life can get without these meetings and my sobriety. I fondled it in my pocket as I walked the long walk home. Wanda’s words of calling herself “the Queen of stupid” bore heavily upon my mind. If I keep this up, I can be her king. We all live and we learn. Now, I have to decide how to handle the whole situation with Rosa. I fear I have woken the beast within. I don’t think she will look as attractive tomorrow without a good twelve pack of beer in my belly wearing the rose colored glasses that it imparts.

Thanks so much to Kristen, Wanda, and Diana for the calls today. You made a big and importance difference in my life. It is cool people like that that make suffering through this disease of the brain and my alcoholism bearable.

Rainy Mornings Ally...

I awoke this morning in a drunken stupor. It was thundering outside fiercely. Each crash of thunder would make me think the house was coming down around me.

Maggie was lying on the bed beside me.

“I love you girl,” I said as I petted her.

Maggie sighed softly and curled up on the bed beside me.

I laid there in the bed thinking of yesterday. My parents had made a grand spectacle of me having a few beers. I missed Rosa. I wish she would stop by so I could curl up in the bed with her. I needed a woman’s touch; an older woman at that that didn’t make a mountain out of a mole hill.

Well, I am going to drink three more beers and go back to bed. That’s all I have left.

Visits from Dad…

My father came by last night.

“I just wish you wouldn’t drink,” He said exasperated.

I held onto his leg as I groveled. I do so miss my father.

I didn’t tell him of Rosa coming by yesterday.

“Give me your credit cards and wallet,” He said worried that I would drink more.

I walked into my den as I sheepishly gave him said things.

“Dad, I just want to die,” I said.

“That is such a foolish thing to say,” He replied as he hugged me.

“Don’t make me suffer,” I said with a stern heart.

“God, you are drunk,” My father then said.

Dad soon left followed by my mother coming over. She wanted the keys to my car. I gave them to her willingly.

“I don’t know why you want to torture us so,” She said of my drinking.

Mom soon left to find me sitting on the floor crying. I cried my heart out.

“I just want to die,” I repeated.

Fortunately, dying is far harder than it seems. Death doesn’t come easy.