A Grateful Existence in an Anxious World (Finished)

While  at Church today, Ken Lang explained how to live a grateful existence in an anxious world.
It had a lot to do with facing challenges and accepting the outcomes regardless.
It had a lot to do with writing people letters and communicating on a personal level.
It had a lot to do with being fair and kind, and it concluded with something of a challenge in itself:
"I could go around the Service today," he said. "And ask all of you what's important, and I'm willing to bet we all have twenty or thirty things in common that we agree we should be thankful for. But can you make a list of one-hundred? Can you exercise your thankfulness like that?"

I have decided I can. And I've decided I'm going to. And I'm not going to cheat and break it down into listing off friends, which would make this a very simple task. I'm  going to give my thermostat a good twisting, and I'm going to mean it. Here I go:

1. I am thankful for my friends. Let's get this out of the way, first, so I cripple myself to try off the bat. You've all enlightened me to facets of who I am, and really shaped who I've come to be as well. I think it's like Ray Bradbury said - you've all gotten your fingers in my clay. I know I wouldn't be here without you.
2. I'm grateful for my family. As of late, I've been retreating from them and sinking into reclusion as a product of their leeriness about my romantic endeavors, but at the end of the day? They've raised me, and they've done a good job at it. They have their problems as any family does - families are all unhappy in different ways, to poorly quote Fyordor Dostoyevsky - but they don't define them, as I often think they do. I have a family, and I have a good one with people who have guided me and not ruled-over me. For the most part.
3. I'm thankful for Leigh. You're my lover, you're my strength in the unknown, and my willingness to stride headlong into things I am uncomfortable with. You make me shrug-off torn ligaments with the sheer wonder of your person. I'm so glad to be with you on your birthday, because while I know it's not a huge deal for you, or so you say, to me it's celebrating an anniversary of you existing, and I can't think of many causes for elation that rival that.
4. I'm thankful for Faith. I've come a long way to say that. I lived a bitter life for a good deal of time - a very pragmatic, Randian one - and it's arguably through silly coincidences involving Touhou Project and my relationship with Emily, a Spiritualist and Occultist pairing up with failed attempts to indoctrinate me with religion when I was small that really made it possible for me to. If you humor the prospect of being a nun long enough, you'll quickly find yourself happier and more-thankful, and just a bit more eager to be involved with things that help others, regardless of the religious tag you wear while doing so. And eventually, you might even like that tag.
   
   
5. I am thankful for my body. I have torn the ligaments in my right foot picking up a paycheck in the snow, but I have my legs. I am in good health. I am reasonably attractive with a thing or two I like about myself between it all. And I'm well enough to qualify for military service, which is a whole new opportunity of its own.
6. I am thankful for my job. It's hard work, it pays little, and I think my hours are ballparked on occasion, because I can't guess why I consistently get a $150 paycheck when I really bust my ass for long hours on some weeks, and seem to have it easier on others. But it's work. And I am glad to do it. I'm glad to be caught up. I'm glad to have a reference, and a very good one at that, if I should need to work oncemore. And I feel accomplished looking on completed homes and rooms, and knowing I've been the sole hand finishing them.
    
7. I'm thankful for my country. While it's easy to get angry at the politically uninformed, and the bigots, and the frivolous lawsuits, and the obesity, and just about anything really? It's a country founded on the notion that you can create industries and succeed. That you can work and be anywhere you want, a self-made man like Carnegie or Rockefeller. It's a place of pride, where people band together in times of hardship to overcome adversity. It's a place where I can see the Navy's slogan, "A Global Force for Good," and believe it and be proud to be part of it. It's a place I am proud to call home.
    
8. I am thankful for the patience of those around me. There is a lot of time I spend working. A lot of time I spend planning. There's simply a lot of time I spend, and it feels great not to be admonished or pushed-away because I'm busy. Because I'm trying. Because I'm willing to commit to things.
    
9. I'm thankful for music. It gets me through some of the harder points of my day. Of two pairs of headphones, two have died. My Mp3 player has finally bitten the dust. But I find I can still whistle, and I love whistling while I paint. I love singing while I work. I'm glad to have shared small instances of my poor singing with Claire as lullabies, and for a voice to join others in praise, protest, cadence, and every other cry that embodies my ideals.
10. I'm thankful for stories, and the people who tell them. For Onni, who crafted adventure and romance with each shift of his fingertips. For Leigh, who spins drama, politics, humor, and war between Heaven and Hell. For Emily, who carries the stories of Zos Kia Cultus and the almost Richard Upton Pickman eccentricities of his existence and spins them spiritedly. For Ray Bradbury and Dostoyevsky for giving me words I couldn't thought of on my own, and for Diogenes for laughing at me when I realize I have to borrow words.
11. I am thankful for coffee. There's so much wrong with my lifestyle. I don't eat enough. I don't get enough water anymore. I travel far too much on foot, and I feel a bit like Nikola Tesla when I read about him casually walking ten miles for work. I'm glad that something's there to push me when I can't get out of bed. When my mind is pinwheeling in excitement but my body is at a stand-still.
12. I'm thankful for Technology. Without the world-shrinking joys of Computers and Phones, I'd be very estranged from a lot of concepts and ideas, and most certainly I'd have turned-out quite differently.
13. I'm thankful for my ability to cook. I absolutely love cooking. I love watching peoples' faces lighting up as they taste something new, or making something particularly pretty and taking it out. I love being able to convey my affections with baked goods and handmade chocolates. It's a medium for communication and love, and I'm thankful it's available to me.
14. I'm thankful for Objectivism. It kicked me square in the butt when I needed it in Highschool. I'm not the greatest of subscribers to it and readily I do a lot of things that likely make Rand squirm in her grave, but it has given me an attitude, if not an agenda always, that helps me get what I need to do done.
15. I am grateful for my senses, none of which are in particular jeopardy, and all of which allow me to taste the lovely things of the world in different ways.
16. I am thankful for forgiveness. I am so imperfect. I stumble so readily. Friends, Lovers, God - thank you for your forgiveness when I fall short.
17. I am thankful for the Teachers I've had: Jennifer Kryzkowski. Donald Skari. Bill Irmen. Derek Frieling. Chris Early. Even the ones I don't think did right by me like Gellner, because without a terrible experience, I wouldn't know a good one if I'd seen it. Thank you giving me the sympathy and understanding I didn't get from friends in Highschool without any of the cluttersome drinking, sex, gossip, and petty things that come with youth.
18. I'm thankful for humor and jokes. Mine tend to be more infamous than loved because Puns are sort of the Mullet of the joke-world. So bad they're actually laughable. Jokes have helped me bridge so many awkward scenarios, express things I didn't know how to, and cheer people up when they were down.
19. I'm thankful for a hectic lifestyle. If I weren't persistently bounding from left to right, I might have time to fold my sheets in the morning, but I don't expect that I'd be as accomplished or happy, either.
20. I'm thankful for a world that lets me enjoy a million different flavors of bizarre soda, and write about it like an utter nerd, and better yet, to share my bizarre beverages with the world via post.
21. I am thankful to be absolutely finished with that restroom I'd been hired to paint.
22. I am thankful for Classes and the fact that Leigh attends them. I will be so elated to see what doors open for her in the wake of her courses completion.
23. I am thankful for Multivitamins, without which I would never fulfill a daily intake requirement of anything.
24. I am not thankful for the shooting pain in my left jaw, but I am very thankful that there exists dentistry to correct it, even though I must wait three months and correct it with my Military Benefits.
25. I am thankful for art. Be it beautiful wine-bottle figures painted by Mucha, or romance cascading into geometry by Klimt, or pinned-up sketches by Leigh, or the calligraphy Onni gave me before his passing, it is all beautiful and timeless and so ripe with meaning and emotion.
26. I am thankful for my new ship-date and a Recruiting Officer patient enough to give me it.
27. I am thankful for the second wind I've gotten with regard to getting prepped for service.
28. I am thankful for the rain having stopped long enough for me to cycle to the gym today.
29. I'm thankful for the ease with which I can share music with Leigh - the only other person I can do that with is probably Ana.
30. I am thankful for the social commentary of Scroobius Pip, and for Ana who introduced us.
31. I am thankful for the concepts of cool monsters, like Mimics, and Dullahan, and Cockatrices, Mandragoras, and creepy murderous Freya Cults, and whatever the hell a Chepet is.
32. I am thankful Delta Airlines didn't lose my luggage.
33. I'm thankful for artists and inspirations who talk to their fans, like Yosu and Brian Lee.
34. I am thankful for explanation and instruction, and the people who give them.
35. I am thankful for the ability to form my own conclusions and opinions in the absence of situations that require training.
36. I am thankful for the terrible haircut I've just received - at least it doesn't grow like this naturally.
37. I'm thankful for the extra five pounds I've somehow gained in the sincere hope that it's muscle.
38. I am thankful for Carried Away scented lotion. What a nostalgic scent.
39. I am thankful for service deadlines. I know you're a temporary career, Military.
40. I am thankful for the position I am in to save other animals: big or small.
41. I am thankful for shoes with support for my feet.
42. I am thankful for the incoming winter chill and the fact that it keeps me from overheating.
43. I am thankful for my ability to withdraw from people who are eager to make mistakes for sake of making mistakes.
44. I am thankful for my ability to plunge headlong into things and make mistakes for sake of trial and error.
45. I'm thankful for silly 8-bit tunes and the dream in my head of one-day turning this Blog into a silly pixelated Gameboy looking page. If only I knew what I were doing.
46. I am thankful for bottlecaps, and their unique ability to be readily fashioned into pins.
47. I am thankful for massage oil, and the impromptu masseuse-training I was given.
48. I am thankful for Willett Falls.
49. I am thankful for fairly respectable stamina.
50. I am thankful for the safety-pin that holds my headphones together.
51. I am thankful for your continued patience as a reader.
52. I am thankful for Berserker and the fact that it makes playing games with me fun again.
53. I am thankful for the snowfall that has finally hit New York like a sack of bricks.
54. I am thankful for the shower I am about to take, and how good and warm it will feel.
55. I am not thankful for busting my ass going down the driveway, but I am thankful for the prompt cry of "Aaah, motherfuck!" that made people laugh.
56. I am thankful for the They Bleed Pixels soundtrack, for narrating my life with its just-barely-noticeable presence and groove.
57. I am thankful for Ponycorns and OrangeBoy.
58. I am thankful for good parenting and other things that warrant Ponycorns.
59. I'm thankful that I have to go into work today; I feel a bit lazy.
60. I am thankful for my blanket cocoon, which held hands with the open-windowed snowfall to make the comfiest sleep I've had since leaving Cullman.
61. I am thankful for Gross Internet Articles and Leigh's knowledge of them. I'm never drinking another Pepsi, and it helps me slim-down, I'm certain.
62. I'm thankful for Hardblush. My Gay-Quota is totally filled.
63. I am thankful for moderation. I'd feel pretty gross reading Furry stuff otherwise.
64. I am thankful for the Furry Community. Although you guys get a bad rap, your comics, Music (Hell yes, Lapfox Trax) and tolerance for each-other is pretty great. Just don't force it on people.
65. I am thankful for old friends who don't find the prospect of me with my head shaved gross.
66. I am thankful for my deceased friend's mother, Iris, and the Christmas Book she'd sent me.
67. I am thankful for Onni. Still.
68. I am thankful for my atomic wristwatch.
69. I am thankful for Onikobe Rin, and he'll never even know.
70. I am thankful for employers who bring you Blueberry Buckle in exchange for half your cheesecake.
71. I am thankful for little sisters who eat the entirety of said Blueberry Buckle. I won't have them long.
72. I am thankful for the appreciation of an art-style different from a lot of other things.
73. I am thankful for tiny plug-in mice, and an employer who gives out boxes like cheap cigars.
74. I am thankful for belts and gloves.
75. I am thankful for a City that pays to have roads shoveled, and that time a snow-plough almost hit me, but narrowly missed. That's some divine favor.
76. I am thankful for the DEP Meeting I just remembered I had today.
77. I am thankful for neat-sounding French things.
78. I am thankful for Sister Eileen.
79. I am thankful for the letters and memories that line my walls.
80. I am thankful for Venice, and Chernobyl, and kaZantip.
81. I am thankful for Napoleon. God, I love you, dude. It took 1:00 AM with an eyedropper, but I'm glad you're here.
82. I am thankful for the approval of the Akers family.
83. I am thankful for the Gibeon Meteorite.
84. I am thankful for shemaghs and Lolita Lempicka, and how they make my absence not so jarring.
85. I am thankful for Goya, and Muncheros, and Jarritos. And Maine Root, too.
86. I am thankful for Delta, even though they're notorious for losing luggage and delays.
87. I am thankful for Saint Astraea and Garl Vinland, and Emily for having introduced us.
88. I am thankful for pocketed boxers, and the fact that they let me saunter around the house undressed.
89. I am thankful for lucky boxers, for always getting me through things, and to Leigh for actually wearing them.
90. I am thankful for Radium, and Cherenkov Radiation, and Spaghettification, and Quasars, and all other things beautiful and scientific.
91. I am thankful for the torn ligament in my foot healing without medical intervention.
92. I am thankful for work-out shoes, and work-shoes, and casual shoes. Three pairs is amazing.
93. I am thankful for Catholic Newspapers, Tape, and my Paper-Cutter. You get me through custom postcards, gift-wrapping, and every other form of 'Hello'.
94. I am thankful for my return to a proper sleep-schedule and meeting my daily need for water-intake.
95. I am thankful for cool deaf neighbors that still remember me.
96. I am thankful for the guys who worked Christmas, that's why I baked them cookies.
97. I am thankful for the cerulean sparkly nail polish on my toes, and the fact that it hasn't chipped.
98. I am thankful for hot water. My sink recently broke, and having to wash everything in freezing water barehanded really makes you appreciate it.
99. I am thankful for my cellphone. It can only call one person, and all the features are locked on "INITIALIZING," but it calls the only person I need it to.
100. I'm thankful for the fact that I've finished, and Ken Lang for making me do this, and Cavalry Chapel for making me a part of their Service.
     
     
     THANK YOU.

Mise a Jour.

I’ve just been a non-entity across the board as of late.
I know people have been growing a bit concerned, so I figured I’d just kind of take a moment to explain where I am in Life - what I’ve got going on. What I want to have going on, and why I don’t have certain things going on anymore.
I’ll begin with work - it’s no secret I’m working quite hard. I actually have to pick up my paycheck today, which is all the way next to my Naval Detachment, and follows several busy highways. I’m not particularly keen on cycling it, nor do I particularly know when they’ll have data up for my current employer, Rudbeckia.
Rudbeckia is a company run by a long-time family friend of mine. They broker clocks, wall-decals, light-fixtures, and a lot of other things that go ‘Tick’ or ‘Flick’ when you use them. They’ve been operating out of home for a bit, which means they have a large barn-style garage (It was prior used as another house before they purchased it, I suspect, by the two-tier furnished room and loft-attic combo it contains) absolutely packed with freight pallets of Clocks and Lights.
I’ve been employed for several things, really - they hired a contractor to begin remodeling portions of their home. After said contractors made-off with a lot of stolen power-tools, I was kind of hired in their stead to finish installing shelving, and paint absolutely everything in their fairly-massive if not wonkily-planned house.
Since beginning, I’ve kind of impressed both my supervisors with my willingness to work, and my reasonable competence in it all. As such, they’ve given me a plethora of other jobs. After painting, I was hired to restore a warehouse Rudbeckia’d rented to actually store their merchandise. And then as muscle for taking every bit of freight out from that once-a-two-story-house garage and into the unit where it was to be shelved by manufacturer.
Well, now, with an impending pregnancy for one of my supervisors, I’ve sort of been promoted to shipping. I box, print, pack, and mail purchase-orders while painting floors, hauling freight, and attending U.S. Navy stuff on the side.
It’s really a lot of work.
There’s a particular frustration, though. Rudbeckia handles its paychecks via an agency called Paychex. If any of you readers happen to be aspiring small business owners, let me quietly steer you away from Paychex’s services. I’ve had two paychecks, each more than nine days overdue. The company does not contact with regards to when they have finished processing your paycheck, and better yet, despite correcting my name’s spelling twice in person, they’ve managed to turn Zackery into Zachary repeatedly, which has warranted just a bit of scrutiny as I attempt to cash my checks at the bank. I sincerely hope it doesn’t give me issues on my tax-returns.
Steam and Video-Games have begun to take a bit of a backseat for the time-being. I’d had a fairly firm friendship with the morning cast of GetAmped2 but in light of some recent falling-outs and a sudden lack of interest from everyone I know (Ana, you’ll recall this sensation when we’d played Ragnarok together - that lonely feeling when you realize you and I are the only people on the Server?) I’ve found better things to do with myself at 5:00 AM. Like sleep more. Or get coffee. Or write lengthy tirades in cyberspace. Work just kind of throws a wrench into a lot of it, and when I’d first begun to work I was dismayed to be welcomed back to Steam with offers for Sexual Roleplay, Interpersonal Drama, and Backhanded Concern that sounded a lot like, “Welcome back! But you’re a dick for being busy.”
I’m, instead, trying to keep in touch with Ana, Emily, and the handful of other righteous people from Steam. You know who you are, so I won’t insult your intelligence by posting some sort of big ass list of people I admire here.
A word of note, by the by. My phone recently retired from the tryhard ineptitude it shared with my lap-oven netbook. It soundly took a dirtnap, and I’ve had to order a new simcard since. In its stead, I have gotten an even more incompetent phone that just… It’s a bad phone, guys. That’s all. If I’m not getting your messages, it’s either because my phone’s crapping-out and not transferring data aimed at my old phone, or I’m at work and I can’t pick up my phone because I’m slathered in paint or arms-deep in freight.
What else is there to cover? Ah. Happy belated Thanksgiving.
I typically don’t celebrate mine very well, because my extended family is a hot mess. Now that I’m working, I celebrate it even worse. My family left for a trip, and I’ve literally got two empty houses on either side of my house, of which I am the sole inhabitant. I’m skimping on money until Paychex can be bothered to unass themselves, so I didn’t go out and buy a single slice of pumpkin pie, which I usually do. Instead, I ate some Chex-Mix and talked to Leigh until I fell asleep around 12:00. This marks the third day I have stayed-up until “Tomorrow” talking to Leigh, and I’m starting to grow concerned for my sleeping schedule.
That said, I’m off to go cycle the eight miles to my Naval Detachment.
Kumoi needs a new hood.

Seagulls.

I need some time to keep it all in place.
I'm feeling fine.
Just give me my space.

Seagulls.

Plink.

Can I take it home?

Postpone.

                              Space.

Concern.

                                                                                                              Frustration.

Chocolate.

Sickly-sweet.

            Letters.

Turbulence.

Doubt.

Tired.

                                    You've let yourself go.

                                                                                                              Who are you?

You're changing.

Stay away.

Abuse.

Scissors.

                                                                                                         Ear.

                        Hair.

Burnt.

Directive.

Meursault.

Coffee.

                                                                                                                  Exhaustion.

12:00 AM.

                     It's not enough.

It can't be fixed.

I don't want to talk about it.

Stop it.

                                               Be quiet.

Don't bother.

Malaise forever.

                                                                                                            Winter.

                                                                                                             Ambition.

Pain.

Tender.

Two-thousand calorie-diet.

Multi-vitamin.

Paint.

Clocks.

I don't trust you.

                      How can you be sure?

         When?

Touch.

Place.

It's broken.

                             Music.

                                        Thirst.

                                                                                                                  On-Foot.

Torn gloves.

Torn jeans.

                                                                                                Names.

Never there.

                                                                                                                     More.

                                                        You're like.

It reminds me of you.

What if?

                   I don't think so.

Could you repeat that?

Are you?

Priority. 

Please know that I'm trying. 

Haze.

You ever wake up in kind of a haze, where everything feels like it's out of a bad Noir film or something?
Where you've got some kind of purpose and intention for the day, but it feels sort of like you're watching yourself from afar, while everything's shot in black and white? I get these odd sensations every now and then, and they're kind of hard to explain. I wake up with a pile of initiative and weird feelings.

It might be-...
I'll go do what I need to, and I'll be back to tell you if I'm just restless.

Cactus Cooler.

This post is alternatively going to be known as

"In Which Zack Teaches the Joys of Discount Softdrinks"

So, right. Let's get down to it.

I don't know if you're all familiar with Dollar-Tree, but they're essentially the American equivalent of the English Poundland, made infamous by the lovely Stuart Ashens. They carry a cornucopia of dubious foodstuffs, such as Belly-Flops (Literally Jelly-Belly jellybeans that failed quality-checks.) and an assortment of useless tat, usually of a seasonal or impending-holiday flavor.

I've quickly become a regular customer at Dollar-Tree since my long-time Ichirin handle caused me to get more-involved with religion, ultimately culminating in me teaching Bible Study. You see, at Game Time, I do team-building exercises and indoor games with children. I work with two groups: TNT and Sparkies. Sparkies being largely Kindergarten and below, while TNT features preteens. With TNT, I can do games with rubber balls. They're usually pretty eager to play, so they pay attention, and their age means they're fairly agile. With Sparkies, however, they're young and have a tendency to not be as coordinated. If I use a rubber ball, I risk one of the kids hurling a dodgeball at a day-dreaming child and wrecking his teeth. So what I tend to do is go to Dollar-Tree and pick up some balloons, which I inflate and use in the place of balls for games with the younger children. This way, they've got a little extra time to react while the ball's in the air, and if someone rockets it at their face while they're spaced-out, they don't lose any teeth.

I ship-out fairly soon and I don't teach Bible Study for the next three weeks thanks to some Holiday events, so I'm actually thinking about picking up some dollar glowsticks while they're left-over from Halloween, and doing a in-the-dark toss relay when I finally return. I thought that'd be really neat and kind of let me go out with a bang. I don't know. I'll keep planning over these next three weeks.

I'm starting to wander from the point, though - being in Dollar-Tree a whole lot has given me the opportunity to sample some of their many dreaded comestibles. Namely some Spanish soft-drinks that were really, really BITCHIN'.

CURIOUSLY BITCHIN'.

In fact, short of the IMMENSE CALORIC CONTENT, better than an American beverage.

 First on the list is Jarritos. I'd hadn't had anything by Jarritos until I'd visited Emily, who likes to call Jarritos "Cactus Cooler," which I thought was really fascinating. (More on Emily in a bit!) Their softdrinks are usually cheap, right next to Topo Chico Mineral Water which is way, way more awesome, (as I am a huge fan of Mineral Water) and comes in a plethora of flavors, perhaps the most eye-catching being tamarind. I've always wanted to taste tamarind, which is a curious pod-fruit renown for its bittersweet taste, so when I saw it on the bottle, I jumped on the occasion. Jarritos tamarind soda tastes a lot like carbonated black tea - it's pleasant and odd, somewhat like the discontinued coffee-flavored Coca-Cola Blak. Perhaps my only criticism being the fact that it stays carbonated for the span of a particularly forceful sneeze.

You're probably familiar with Goya. Goya is a regular superpower. They're like Nestle in the sense that they make just about everything. Canned vegetables. Fruit. I remember seeing canned coconut juice by Goya when I was a poor child in Honolulu and presuming it was the sole thing they made. There's a few things you probably don't know about Goya, however. The first being what the hell Malta Goya is, and the second being that they make really, really delightful sodas.

Malta Goya was my introduction to Goya's line of softdrinks. Let me take a bit to explain what it is: Malta is essentially a very dark and non-alcoholic beer. It's thick and foamy, and tastes somewhat like fruitcake or bread. You can imbibe it a lot of different ways, but I tend to drink all whopping three-hundred calories of mine half-and-half with milk as breakfast. I'll warn you that malta's an acquired taste, like kefir or kvass, but if you care to look, you can sometimes find it for outrageously low prices - I'd always wondered what malta were, but I'd not figured to try it until I saw it going for thirty cents and thought, "Christ - how can I go wrong for this price?"

It doesn't stop there, though. Again, Goya's like Mexico's Nestle or something. And their sodas are amazing. I have a confession. I like ginger. (Again, more on Emily in a bit. Snrk, snrk.) I like it dried, I like it sugared, I like it raw, I like it as tea, and I am also particularly fond of ginger beer and redheads. Now, there's a lot of ginger beers on the market, especially here in New York where the Indie Society has sparked small brewing companies in Brooklyn eager to sell you the best six-dollar soda you'll ever have. I've had the privilege of trying one of these outrageously-overpriced beverages thanks to a family friend who gave me one out from a four-pack they had purchased after hearing that I tend to fashion bottlecaps into fashion-pins, and I can tell you that it doesn't hold a candle to Goya's. I've sampled many ginger beers, from Reed's, Boylan's, W, and even one British brand, Idris, that dared me to drink it as it claimed to be the hottest ginger beer on market. Ladies and Gentleman, nowhere will you find a ginger beer with more punch than Goya's. Sincerely. Take it from me.

Goya's comes cheap, at seventy-nine cents, and it hits like a truck. It has a smooth pour with a blazing punch that leaves your nose flaring, not unlike horseradish, wasabi, or actual ginger root. It leaves your stomach feeling hot and you feeling masculine. You'll want to lift weights, watch Clint Eastwood films, and eat ribs after downing it. Really, it just doesn't get more ginger than Goya's.

It's SPICY.

KNOCK YOU ON YOUR ASS SPICY.  

Seriously. If you're a ginger fan, get it.

Tell your friends.

If you're a fan of cocktails, slap it together with black rum and have a Dark 'n Stormy.

Goya's masterpieces don't stop there, though. For this next one, I have another rambling yarn to weave you. When I was a wee lad getting macked-on by pedophiles on the Canadian boarder, all the grocery stores were stocked by Kroger. Kroger filled them with generic softdrinks, none of which were impressive save for one. Red Cream Soda is quite possibly the most amazing thing that has ever existed in terms of flavor in the Soda Universe. I have no idea what fruit the Red from its name takes itself, but I can attest to the fact that the product itself tastes something like Twizzlers or Red Vines. Since moving from North Dakota, I've never been able to find anything like it, until yesterday, when I was shopping for baking goods.

Also on Goya's roster, next to amazing ginger beer, is a faintly-pink concoction of ambrosial constitution - sincerely, somewhere on the Nutritional Facts is probably listed, "Contains: the Tears of Saints, Theriac, and Azoth" - called Champagne Cola. It tastes just like my elusive Red Creme Soda. It's Godly.

It's amazing. Get it if you can. Get multiples.

It'll restore your faith in the softdrink world, and it'll do it for seventy-nine cents.

Dollar-Tree doesn't just feature delicious drinks for the adventurous customer, though. They also feature some snacks, too. Steering clear of anything bearing a likeness to an Ashens review will lead you right to Muncheros. I'm not going to lie - Muncheros can be sort of hit and miss. I've had their chili-lemon arare, and it was a tomato flavored rice-cracker around a peanut that burns your mouth after a little with a perfectly respectable chili after-taste. Not bad, but not good - I've had it once or twice more as lunch to fuel me on many a six-mile bike to and from the Gym.

Muncheros does has a product of note, though. Given that the best thing about their chili-lemon arare is the chili, you can assume that Muncheros does chilis well. Nowhere do they do chilis better than their chili mango. 

Muncheros chili mango isn't exceptionally generous with its portions, but its such a unique taste I tend to NOT GIVE A DAMN. Muncheros takes several cuts of dried mango, which is very sweet and delicious on its own, and covers it in powdered chili-pepper and cane sugar. It baits you in with its sugary outside only to burn your tongue. The chewiness of dried fruit means you have to chew, as well, spreading that HALF-HEAT, HALF-SWEET all over the INTERIOR OF YOUR FACE.

Dollar-Tree isn't always amazing, but I hope you'll give it a shot, sometime.

A lot of its products are legitimately pretty delicious if you'll give 'em a chance.

I don't think you'll regret it.

And if you do? You're only out seventy-five cents to a dollar.

Finally, 

IT'S EMILY'S BIRTHDAY TODAY!

Give Her a Shout, lads and lasses, and let her know you love her.

I told you I had more on ginger!

My Basement Flooded.

I was going to write a bit about Goya sodas,

but MY BASEMENT IS FLOODED, and I teach bible-study in like, an hour and a half.

Sorry.

Of Mice and Men.

You're probably expecting some "Tell me about the rabbits, George," but I'm actually referring to the idiom from which the book takes its name. If you're not familiar with it, it goes, "The best-layed plans of mice and men often go awry," and it an homage to a poem, if I do recall. Which is to say, this is a post about everything going WRONG.

I've been working very diligently to square-up a visit with my friend. If you've not read, I've taken on a job as a painter, and de-facto construction worker with Rudbeckia Interprises. I've done about $500 of work, and I was counting on the first $300 arriving in the form of a paycheck. Said paycheck was a little under a month late. And due to time constraints, contained a solid one-third of what it was supposed to.

Which is to say, I waited patiently for $100 while planning on a $500 budget that I did not receive.

Moreover, lodging-accomodations. I thought those were going to be here. They're not.

My family's been a hot mess, and they broke-out into disagreement with the prospect of my friend visiting.

They will, however, personally fund my little sister to go places. We only export, and we don't cover adults.

Kind of sucks. I began looking at hotels, and found a few that were reasonable and near wonderful places, but with my recent budget, I don't suspect I'm going to make it happen.

We looked at the prospect of me visiting instead, but there's just not a budget for that, either, now. And the price of tickets are outrageous, even in advance, as the holidays are impending.

Moreover, the person I'd accounted on taking me in for a short week is struggling with an Alzheimer's patient, and it's just... It's a hot mess, and I'm kind of a liability to it all. A magnifying glass, so to speak.

My plan failed, my revised plan failed. My back-up plan failed.

I'm just not going to be able to make it in for her birthday.

Long story short, I'm pretty jaded and I'm baking cookies to send on her birthday instead.

It's not at all a suitable substitute for the adventure we had planned.

She's kind of heartbroken.

Work-Music.

I apologize about not getting back to business here - I wound up sticking around a big longer to slap a second coat onto the Storage Facility's epoxied floor. And then cooking dinner - I made Eggplant Parmesan, however I didn't get a picture. I cannot, for the life of me, find my old, high-quality, teeny, blue camera!

Or my serving dish for that matter. It kind of sucked. I served it with a bit of pasta, to account for that, and piled the eggplant atop it, in a small ramekin. Still sort of pretty, and giving that illusion of class, unless you know what a ramekin is for, and then you're like, "Why is a souffle or creme brulee not in there?"

Anyways, owwies. I'm hurtin'. 

You ever listen to Michael Gray's "The Weekend"? It's a great song, and I encourage you all to dig it. If you've ever worked a day in your life, or maybe even attended a public school? It's a song I know you'll relate to. Which is really like, awesome. I love it when I get a song. When the song hits, "I make it what I can. I try, I try, I'm shakin' up my plan"? I'm just like, "Nnff, sing it yo. I dig what you're puttin' down."

My neck's absolutely killing me. It's gotten to the point where I can no longer give it a crude popping to alleviate the agony that accrues into it while painting ceilings, or at other odd angles - instead, I just wake up and make Adventure Time noises. Or Regular Show noises - but exclusively Panicking Muscle-Man ones.

My knees are killing me, too. Prior to my work with Rudbeckia, I had never painted a floor. I've sanded and varnished hardwood floors. I've installed faux-wood floors. I've assisted in installing carpet. But it's not often that someone's like, "Ruin my floor with what you put on my walls!" I put on a coat of it. It was very, very thin and watery. Turns out that all the actual paint had settled at the bottom of the can, despite having been shaken. The mounted-roller is ideal for floors, but the small space isn't super ideal for mounted-rollers, and long story short, I wound up doing a lot of kneeling while applying one failed coat. A coat of actual paint to make up for it, and a second coat to make certain it were thick enough to be a respectable matte silver.It took like, twelve hours. That's more air-time on your knees than objectified women in a over-the-top music 

video.Or Vual.

Anyways, I've been writing (and reading) a lot about the Hierarchy of Angels, (Generally agreed to look something like this: Righteous Dead, Saints, Angelic Messengers, Archangels, Seraphim, Creator.) and the Demonic Pseudomonarchy, which is a whole bunch of very fascinating but at times frightening figures. They're structured somewhat by their...Well, it's hard to explain. I'd like to say "Power," but I don't know that that's entirely true. King Asmoday out-ranks, say, the quite adorable Prince Valac in title, and therefore holds seventy-two legions of the demonic as opposed to Valac's lesser thirty. However, Marchosias, who shares a rank with Shax, is arguably far more competent - Shax being known to be quite temperamental, a liar unless compelled otherwise, and to occasionally loose evil familiars - while Marchosias is both dutiful, issues competent familiars, and is honest.

Part of me wants to chalk that up to Marchoasias' want to return to heaven. It's really quite saddening, I imagine he's kind of like a lovely person who picked the wrong team in Angelic Kick-Ball.

Anyways. Fascinating stuff if you don't get too roped-into it. 

Valac and Gremory are my favorites. They make me want to be a cute angelic orphan, and ride a camel.

I've still not gotten paid, which is troubling. I plan to personally show up and claim the money today, as I was supposed to have it delivered yesterday and, despite attempts to contact her, my supervisor kind of left me hanging. I'm not taking it personally, but it is just under a month overdue and that kind of irks me. That's a long time to wait to be paid, and I don't exactly have an account brimming with wealth right now.

Awhile back, An called for assistance, and I wasn't able to do more than twiddle my thumbs and say, "That's unfortunate - I'm at work." I felt kind of bad. I hate turning people away when they ask for help. I just couldn't afford to buy food.

All things considered, though, I'm excited.

In Which I Explain My Owwies.

Alright, so I've got some owwies, yo.
Owwies are instances or additions that warrant the onomatopoeic response, "Ow!" when encountered.
I'm gon' be talkin' about some of mine, some of Saint Lafayette's, and-

Actually, give me a moment. I have to report a small flood to my supervisor at Rudbeckia Enterprises.
It was bad enough to bust out some of our tiles and stop one of our lights from working.

FFFFF-Shit. I'll finish this later. I've got to go carry down some paint. In the rain.
And like...

Bluh.

Ignore the picture, I'll explain it later.

Damn, I lied and got busy.
More over, I slept at 8:30. God, I think I'm getting sick or something.
Either that, or I'm working way too hard.
Lending credence to the second theory, be right back, I'm going to the Gym.