The first thought in my head this morning was, “man, I have to pee!”
The second thought was, “where the hell did the year go?”
2002 was an amazing year for me. It was a year of discovery and a year of transformation. I am very grateful that I have been able to share this time with all the WWDN readers. You have all been an integral part of this year. Thank you for sharing it with me.
Happy New Year, everyone. Please be safe tonight. See you in 2003.
Month: December 2002
Pimpf
I was reading my pal Tom Tomorrow’s weblog this morning, and came across this:
“So Andrew Sullivan spent a week or so rattling the tip jar on his blog and apparently fattened his bank account by some eighty or ninety thousand dollars.
“And it kind of makes you do a double take, if you’re keeping a blog, especially a blog with a substantial readership. Hey, you think, maybe I should start rattling the tip jar. Hell, why shouldn’t I try to get paid for my work? (And, to be honest, you think: eighty thousand f**king dollars? Jesus F**king Christ on a crutch!)”
“So what if we take that impulse and channel it in such a way that we can actually make some small specific difference in the world? Something more important than fattening an online yuppie pundit’s wallet?
“Specifically: there’s a non-profit here in Brooklyn called Hearts & Homes for Homeless Dogs, which, as you might surmise, cares for and finds homes for abandoned and abused dogs. (Brooklynites have probably seen them out finding homes for their charges at Seventh Ave and First Street on the weekends, or at Court and Montague all week long.) If you’ve been reading this website regularly, you might already be familiar with the story of my own dog, the happy fellow in the photo below, who was abandoned as a puppy with scabies, and is alive today only by the grace of someone who cared enough to take him in and nurse him back to health. So the work they do at Hearts & Homes strikes a personal chord with me.
“Of course, since this is the internet, I’m sure I’ll get email from someone saying, why a dog charity, when there are so many other problems in the world? Well, I’m starting with this particular charity–and I hope this is only a beginning–because I support the work they do, and more importantly, because they are facing an emergency situation, and they need help, right now:‘Unforeseeably, the shelter/home where Hearts and Home Inc. has worked from for the past 7 years has recently been sold. And now, they have only 2 short months to find adequate and affordable space
Tastes like burning
On December 7th, my wife and I, with the help of some friends, put down about 3000 square feet of sod in our front yard. It was tough work, but worth every strained muscle and aching back: the yard looks beautiful.
In addition to representing lots of hard work, the lawn also represents a significant financial investment, so I am sort of manic about keeping it looking its best.
Because of this mania, I am ready to fucking kill the goddamn skunks who keep tearing up the edges of the grass each night.
However, I am a peace loving man, and I’ve chosen to refrain from planting AP mines at the corners of the yard. Instead, I bought a big old jug of red pepper flakes at Smart and Final (for 5 dollars, thank you very much), and spread them all over the perimeter of the lawn last night.
Here’s the thing about red pepper flakes: even when you wash and dry your hands really well after you’re done? The oil that makes them spicy is still on your hands. So when you absentmindedly scratch your chin, or rub your eye, or go to the bathroom, every single thing you touch will immediately burst into flames.
Every. Single. Thing.
Burns.
Oh, how it burns.
So when I got into bed last night, I felt like I’d spent a week in Bangkok.
But when I got up this morning, the burning had subsided, and my front yard was unmolested by the little stinky bastards.
Skunks- 5
Wil- 1
Christmas 2002
The scent of balsam fir and spiced cider permeates every corner of our house.
Wrapping paper and ribbons, tags and tape litter the living room floor. Our cats chase bits of ribbon and bows, tearing around the floor like they are kittens again.
Ferris snores heavily by the fire.
We turn out all the lights, and stand together in front of the fireplace.
Candle and firelight play across our faces. The only other light in the house comes from the village atop the piano and the lights on our tree. We share a Christmas kiss, before settling our brains for a long Winter’s nap.
Merry Christmas, everyone. May peace prevail on Earth.