Homer to Anchorage: It's not so much that we experienced hideous turbulence as it is that we fully utilized the air space around us.
Anchorage to Valdez: In order to give ample time for me to make my connection - 10 feet away - the airlines was generous enough to extend my meager 1 hour layover into a roomy 5 hour layover. Those people are just swell!
In an effort to fill my mind with the rancid brainwashing of culturally jaded media... I've watched several movies lately. I haven't watched much in months so felt I needed to catch up. Not so sure that I had missed all that much.
Wicker Park - Aaccck. Gag me with a overly complicated, soap opera love triangle.
Motorcycle Diaries - Interesting, but a little too documentary and political-agenda for me.
Without a Paddle - Fun. Not amazing, but fun.
Dodgeball - Wow... the first 30 minutes were, um, memorable.
Robots - Very fun. The animation was superb and the characters were great.
Joseph of Arimathea just came into the music store next to my office. How do I know it was him? I've only seen his flannelgraph likeness for like my entire life. Gosh! Sure he's updated his wardrobe a smidge, but that scruffy beard and tall shepherd's cane would give him away anywhere. Yeah, that's right, a tall shepherd's cane. What's odd about that?
Happy late Easter to you all. I did absolutely nothing of interest. Well, that's not true. I went to church with an amazing service of music and drama. Excellently done and very worshipful. This whole going back to the church I grew up in might really be a good thing after all.

Looks to me like they provide services I wouldn't want for my kids...
Since you all were absolutely no help with the whole birthday planning thing I had to take drastic measures to ensure this birthday was doing to be wild crazy fun so in a fit of reckless abandon I've decided to go to Valdez!
Hey now, stop laughing so hard. Yes, Valdez is a dinky little place where all the crazies in the state seem to settle out, but this freaky little town is surrounded by beautiful scenery. I can go hiking, camping, snowmachining, climbing... the rugged existence that I've come to know and <cough> love.
...
Okay, who am I kidding. I'm going to Valdez to hang out with a friend for a few days. Geesh, you all know me way too well.
I'm sitting here at work and listening to my second cd. "Second cd?!" you say? "I didn't know there was a first cd! And why haven't I heard there is a second one??!!!"
Okay, okay! Calm down a trifle. Yes, I have a self-published first cd: new age piano improvisation. The public can't seem to get enough (fame is *such* a burden). And while I truly am sitting here critiquing the second cd, it's not officially finished yet. All the recording is done and the cover is designed. I still have to design the liner notes and the cd label. After that I just have to start production.
The debut of the cd will be heralded with a solo concert at which time I'll create a web page with some excerpts and information on how to order online (my PayPal link). I already have a local reporter (from the *other* paper) who has agreed to do an article on the whole thing.
Once all that is scheduled you'll be the first to know. Well, actually you'll probably be like the 12th or 13th to know, but you know what I mean.
The art instructor for our kids classes told me this today, "don't touch my man parts." This statement was fairly odd considering every indication is that this instructor is a woman. I mean "Renee" can be a guys name, but the hair, makeup and blouses seemed to indicate the female gender as did the curvy hips and breasts...
Turns out she has a table full of nuts, bolts, screws, washers, etc. all clean and drying on the back table.
Well the winter wonderland that is flurrying around outside kinda betrays what has seemed like near summer weather lately. But have no fear: I still came to work in my flip-flops, Bermuda shorts and shirt optional attire.
Dude, there is a moose right outside our office windows munching on our shrubs. If there were any doubt that Homer was a dinky ass town... If only I had a camera.
My birthday is going to be in 2 weeks and I'm thinking of having a bonfire party on the beach. Donnie will be in town plus I've made enough friends <fingers-crossed> that I think the event wouldn't consist of me sitting alone on the beach telling myself that I don't look a day over 25. Friends, a beach and a bonfire does kinda make a party, but I'd kinda like a little more happening than that. This is where you and your considerable mental resources come into play.
What else could I do for this grand day? I'd have loud party music, of course. We could do it around dinner time and have hot dogs, etc. to cook over the fire. We could do naked rain dances (a.k.a. "the dance of the jiggly parts"). We could write naughty messages in bottles for some formerly innocent child to discover. I could have everyone write a poem to be read and then tossed into the fire. We could create little art scenes from seaweed, driftwood and other beach items. It could be a costume/themed bonfire party.
So many options. Care to add a few more?
They were talking about Canadian Borg, of course. Geesh.
// my personal research assistant: Bill //
Being in a good mood doesn't really lend itself to entertaining blog posts. I guess my loyal subjects will suffer for the sake of my joy. Hm.
Feeling short on patience this morning and my office assistant isn't helping in the least. If she says, "All-ooh-righty then. We'll just do it" in her sing-songy fashion one more freakin' time I think I may have to toss my 50lb monitor over the divider wall. She thinks she comes across in an I'd-like-to-teach-the-world-to-sing sort of way. In truth it's more like a transform-an-otherwise-mild-mannered-individual- into-an-mouth-foaming-psycho-killer-with-a-computer-monitor sort of way. Believe me, the monitor would be sacrificed for a good cause.
A homeless man on the street corner in Anchorage carried this cardboard sign:
"Homeless man needs rich woman."
I just got back on the short flight from Anchorage. I sat right next to the main door on this small little plane, right next to the little lever that said "pull up to open door," my restless hands mere inches from that oh so delicious looking handle. Surely just a little tug wouldn't hurt anything...

Three years ago I sat with Melissa while she got this frog tattooed on her lower back for her 18th birthday. It's a poisonous dart frog; cute but deadly, just like my little sister (that petite girl could pack a hell of a punch). After she died I got this little guy crawling up the front my right shoulder (shown above). He's a constant, cuddly companion.
Told would have been Melissa's 21st birthday. Melissa, in your honor I will spend my day focused on having fun, ignoring adult worries and letting my child-like side come to the forefront; characteristics you always inspired in me. I'll even take a stroll on the beach on this sunny afternoon just because I can. Happy birthday sis. I love you always.
Homo Depot
We've got the tools to transform your house into a homo.
I had this dream where this super, frickin' annoying lady wanted me to remaster an entire cd because her child's musical number was placed after a certain performer instead of before. I was to recall all cds and fix each and every one. My boss supported this decision. Beyond being pissed at this lady, the main thing I thought about... "I'm totally going rant about this on my blog." Imagine my disappointment when I woke to realize it was all just a dream and a blog post about it would only reveal how pathetic my existence really is.
This whole not being a diva thing is a tough road. I don't know how all you little people manage it.
I've been kind of frustrated with the church I've been attending on and off since my return to Homer. It has a lot of the style that I like, but it lacking in a lot of other areas. I had tried going to the church I grew up in a few times, but didn't care for the style, didn't like this, hated that, etc. I decided to go back again today and to set my nitpicky judgements and strong opinions aside. I was going not to find the myriad of things that didn't "suit me," but to gain whatever I could from the experience. To worship God, to hang out with him and to be with other Christians. It turns out that when I accept lack of perfection, I can actually be very blessed in a church that is "too traditional" or that has "too many cliques" or whatever. Praise God for that. It appears to be mostly about my attitude.
Hm. Go figure.
Ok, well, my diva moment's over. The two performances of the variety show happened today. The evening show went much better than the matinee, but both went pretty well. As much as I bitched about rehearsals, disorganization, etc... in the end I'm so glad I did it. I had forgotten how alive and 'right' I feel when performing. It's definitely a talent that God has given me and something to which he has called me. I need to do more of it. So next time I'm moaning about annoying rehearsals just remind me that the performance will make it all worth while. I will likely slap you upside the head for this reminder, but that doesn't mean I need it any less.
I'm not so sure that it's a good idea to put a professional, anal-retentive, perfectionistic musician into an amateur, community talent show setting. Said diva may self-destruct when in "dress rehearsal" new musicians are being added to ensembles, people are still trying to decide on their musical arrangement and the artistic director is undecided on the location for entrances and exits. My favorite moment was when I sat in the spotlight throughout the entirety of someone else's piece because the lighting crew couldn't figure out that the female voice, guitar and conga drums weren't actually coming from the piano.
In truth, the performers all have a tremendous amount of talent. I'm in awe at several of the acts. Sadly very few of these gifted musicians are skilled in professionalism on stage or in their preparation.
<sigh> I may be a diva, but working with the "little people" can be so trying.
Managing the needs of the business all week while the rest of the staff is out sick and then having 3+ hour exhausting rehearsals each night... might tend to make one grumpy. You know, just maybe.
This Saturday the arts council is putting on a variety show of local talent. The show will be done with an old time radio theme. The emcee will serve as the radio show host complete with cheesey jokes and melodramatic introductions. I'll kind of be the Doc Severinsen of the show; the musical sidekick to the host. I'll play prelude music, list the sponsors, and introduce the host. I'll also be playing some interlude spots while some groups are being set-up and possibly do some hokey banter with the host now and then. This leaves me at the piano for the entire show.
I had my first rehearsal last night and by rehearsal I mean sitting around waiting for some semblance of a clue as to what I was to be specifically doing during the show. The complete disorganization of the directors left me sitting around stewing at the big fat waste of time. Here's hoping that tonight and tomorrow's rehearsals go much better.
My boss is a natural redhead as are her two kids and her husband. We swap redheaded jokes all the time...
Boss: "I can't believe I forgot that. I guess this redhead was having a blonde moment."
Damon: "Wow, blonde huh? That's an upgrade."
Transcripts from Thursday, 2/24/05, 9:22pm
damon: I'm helping Sean celebrate his birthday tomorrow night.
valette: fun!
damon: should be, though he's an attention slut too which means I have to let him steal my spotlight all freakin' evening.
valette: i hate it when people do that, like they think everything is about them
damon: I know. I mean it's only the day of his birth after all.
valette: and what makes him so special? what did he do to facilitate his birth?
damon: my point exactly!
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A Greek and Italian were sitting down one day debating who had the superior culture.
The Greek says, "We have the Parthenon".
The Italian says, "We have the Coliseum".
The Greek says, "We had great Mathematicians".
The Italian says, "We had the Roman Empire".
and so on and so on and then the Greek says, "We invented sex".
The Italian says, "That is true, but it was the Italians who introduced it to women".
Just got an e-mail from a "dildolicious." Spam perhaps?