#FalconHeightsShooting

I am starting to get the feeling that my initial fear before going to bed, that this city was about to be set on fire, isn't going to happen.  I think, I'm afraid, that a certain weariness, if not outright inattention, is confronting this shooting.

I don't know about you, but I thought that there was video of the aftermath of the shooting was THE tipping point in waking all of us who have up till now been turning a blind eye to these officer-involved shootings.  I mean, how can you not sympathize with two people seeing their loved one get shot and slowly dying right next to them?  Regardless of the circumstances of the shooting -- the video doesn't start until after Philando Castile got shot because he may have moved his hands or was only reaching for his identification or conceal/carry license -- how can your heart not go out to them?

But really, the reason I think, or at least thought, "this time is different?"  The girl.  There was a four-year-old daughter that probably was in the backseat of the car just as her father got shot.  If you've seen the video (and I think I'll just link to it instead of embed it in this blog post), you'll know what I'm talking about.  The phone where the girlfriend was narrating the scene was thrown to the side after she was ordered to get out of the car to get handcuffed.  You see the shot from the phone go from a shot of an outdoor street light (where the phone being thrown finally rested) to darkness (presumably when an officer flipped it upside-down).  The next shot after that?  A beautiful little girl looking back at the screen.  My God, if she saw her father get shot. ...  And if we are not at the very least outraged that this girl saw her father get shot. ...

I ... I don't know.  I'm sure I've driven through the area of where Castile got shot.  My plans today may have taken me through that area, in fact.  Probably will have to avoid it now.  I still feel a palpable sense of unease just having coffee here.  But I thought other people would feel the same, and I'm not sure that other people are just going about their day.  I was afraid that things wouldn't be the same this morning, but I am also afraid that things would be the same this morning, too.

Still Waiting

As I was advised to do, last week I had e-mailed the Human Resources person at the second test scoring place I was working at about my issue with this last scoring project turning into a white-collar version of McDonald's.  I first e-mailed him giving him a head's-up on what I wanted to say, and even though he appeared to have already taken off for the Independence Weekend holiday, he immediately replied, "OK, what's up?"

So I told him.  Well, I wrote it Friday morning, then I sent it Friday around 11 p.m. because I didn't want a reply as quick as his first e-mail just before the holiday.  If it was bad news, better to wait till after the 4th of July.  Well, it's the 6th, and I'm still waiting.  I wonder if he is still on vacation, or if he didn't see my e-mail, or if he didn't care.  What I'm thinking/hoping is that I gave him a lot to chew on and he's carefully crafting a reply.  Hopefully that's the case, and hopefully he is going to say something that I will like.

Have to make this one short.  Have to go to the U. to participate in a study, and I will be parking on the other bank and walking to it.  Hope 50 minutes is enough time.

I Regret Two Things Right Now

The first regret involves footwear.  I knew rain (in fact severe storms) were in the forecast today.  This morning I put on my comfy moccasins instead of my Doc Martens.  I don't think I've ever worn my mocs out in the rain before, and I was afraid that they would get wet.  I don't know if it's made out of leather or pleather or something, but I'm sure that they wouldn't be the same if they got wet.

In the end, though, I wore those moccasins anyway.  I wanted my feet to be comfortable since I was going to this girl named *e***, who was going to blow me.  (Quick review: She didn't blow me; we didn't get that far; glad I can still respond to a girl's touch; she said licked my balls, though.)  And even though the rain held off for most of the day, after I left *e***'s place it started raining heavily, and it was pouring buckets as I got home.  After trying to wait it out for five minutes, I dashed through the rain to the front door, and I still got soaked.

And so did my shoes.  It didn't seep onto my socks or anything, but after looking at it a few times while it's drying, I can tell the water sapped those shoes of some of the latent moisture that was embedded in it.  It's starting to dry out, and that's because I made the decision to wear them out today.

---

The second regret involves dinner.  I had set up this encounter with *e*** yesterday, just as I was watching the 4th of July fireworks.  It was only going to be an hour (which I don't like; her half-sister would let me stay at her place for two hours and I would get to take a nap too), and it was going to be in the late afternoon, but she was broke and I wanted to get my rocks off, so I was eager to set something up.

This morning, as I was leaving, Mother asked me when I was coming home.  Because we were having steak.  Yeah, I forgot about that as soon as I left the house.

While exercising this afternoon, *e*** asked to push it back half an hour because she was running late.  No problem; I told Mother I'd be home at 5:30, but I immediately texted her saying it would be 6.  She was OK with that.

Again, the sexual activity was A-OK by me, but again, I left her house and got back to my house just as the brunt of the storm hit the area.  (It was bad.  I don't remember the last time I saw outside so dark and stormy and windy while I was driving through it.  But it was kind of cool in a way.  Felt totally safe in the car.)

When my waterlogged self burst through the front door my parents had already begun eating the salad.  When I saw the steak dishes, I felt like I had screwed over my parents.  If *e*** and I had stuck to our original time, I would have gotten back by 5:30, and I think my parents could have squeezed grilling the steaks outside (they usually cook outside) before the storm hit.  Hell, if I had just arranged to see her at a different time, I could have been home by 5 and they could have taken their sweet time as they cooked the steaks.  But the rain that hit just as I got home burgeoned through our salad and soup, so finally they decided to use a pan and to fry the steaks on the stove inside.  The steaks were fine, but I know they would have preferred to do them outside.  And even though they think it couldn't be helped because I got home later than I said I would, I know the real reason, and I feel ashamed, I really do.

Well, I got up early enough this morning and realized I needed to apply for unemployment for the week.  I was really scared that after I go through all the rigmarole and submit my application for the week, the state would go, "One or more issues have come up; benefit payment has been put on hold while your application is reviewed."  That is what it says whenever, well, there is an issue, and unfortunately you can't stop the process, because once you submit at that point, there's no going back, and they then send you a letter letting you know the findings of their issue.  Not good if you're hiding your unemployment from your parents, and it's a double bummer if you don't get any money at all.

I literally felt my heart beat harder and faster this morning at the point in the app where I looked at all the answers I gave just before I submitted it.  I really was scared that I would get screwed out of my dole money, and that my folks would see that I applied.  But I needed the money, so I bit the bullet and hit the submit button and ...

... nothing.  I am supposed to receive some money this week.  Cool!  That means that I won't have any problems getting unemployment money while I'm out of work, and (unless I'm missing something) that there will be no need for letters through the mail in order to get that money.  Phew!

Need To Get More Perverted In Order To Get Off

Because I came on her face during one visit and then wasn't able to cum at all until I jerked myself off in the next, I felt obligated to go to *****e*'s party on Friday, even though 1) the cover cost me $20 and 2) it was at a hotel, which always scares me because I think the police can go bust up a party and arrest everyone in there easier at a hotel than at, say, a house.  I was just hoping that I would be able to ejaculate.

Well, I did, and by *****e*'s hand, too!  It helped, I think, that another stripper, someone whom I haven't ever met, came into our bedroom because that's where the bathroom is.  (Convenient, but that's not the half of it; see next paragraph.)  Her name is, I think, *e***, and she was talking over this partition at *****e*, where she and I were on a bed, getting ready to get down.

I got kind of freaked out because I didn't think another person was going to interrupt us.  However, since it was another girl instead of one of the many guys hanging out in the living room watching the Twins game, I got kind of turned on.  I said *****e* that it was OK for *e*** to come over to our side of the room.

After a bit, *e*** did.  She's blonde, wears glasses, is a bit on the old side and she's got some fat -- a normal chick, in other words.  I wouldn't mind having a go with her, is what I'll say.  I met her when I came into the suite, and I had no problem with her seeing my dick.  And she did -- well, besides the fact that the entire room was dark.  *e*** walked over to our bed while *****e* was literally jerking me off.  I was sitting up on the bed (*****e* was kneeling next to me while reaching down to my cock) and I spread my legs open so *e*** could see my pee-pee -- well, besides the fact that the entire room was dark.  I think *e*** saw enough; she gave a quick laugh and left.

I think that contributed a lot to me finally cumming.  Don't know if I want to rely on that to get off every single time, but to finally get right with *****e*, it'll do.

---

OK, back to the set-up of the room.  People had to go through the bedroom in order to use the bathroom.  Furthermore, there were two beds in the bedroom.  So you may have surmised already that the reason there was this partition was because two couples could use this room at the same time.  And that's why *e*** was there; when she came over to our bed, her john was using the bathroom.  And so *****e* got me off while, on the other side of this blanket on a clothesline, *e*** got some fat dude off.

Never been in such a situation before.  Probably don't ever want to be in that situation again.

It's Two Weeks Away Already, And I'm Already FREAKING OUT!!!

The alumni club's big event is two weeks -- holy shit, it's actually less than two weeks!!! -- away, and so far I am getting no invitations.  I don't know if it's because it's coming much sooner than before, or if people aren't going to my alma mater this year, or they're just bored with it.  But maybe it's because I did such a piss-poor job of advertising this.

The thing is, I don't know what else to do.  I got a huge break when someone volunteered to host this year's party as soon as last year's party ended.  They are even willing to shoulder some of the costs of the party, so that can't be the worst thing in the world.  But I put the word out two weeks ago (a month out), and I set up an invitation page, and so far, I have received no invites, no one saying, "Yeah, we're coming!"

And now I'm in an even worse bind.  Every day closer to the event I feel a desperate need to do something, anything, just so warm bodies are going to show up.  But the more I feel the urge to do something drastic, the more embarrassing I think I'm going to look, so why bother.  That puts me into a state of paralysis, where I fret about doing nothing yet can't get myself to do anything.

But something is what I have to do.  I posted photos of stuff that people can get for free last year, and I think that went over well, so I'm going to do it again this year.  (Unfortunately I was not sent a lot of stuff.)  I need to reach out to my Vice-President, as well as the people from the club I'm close with, to ask if they can come.  Other than that ... more e-mails?

You know, we've had declining attendance the past couple years.  Maybe the reason for that is my piss-poor planning and promotion.  Or, it's ... me.

Oh, And We Had Such A Good Thing Going!

I have to say that My Fucking Father has been behaving himself ever since he came back home.  I thought this is a good thing, so this morning, when I had trouble starting the lawnmower, I felt no trepidation in asking him for help once he got home from his walk around the neighborhood with Mother.  He was helpful, too; he told me to tip over the lawnmower and, after pulling out all the dark grass that collected in the well of the blade area, it worked just fine.  Father tried to turn this into a Teachable Moment, saying that I need to "maintain the lawnmower, and maintain my body" (wanking motion), but he was really trying to be helpful, so I thanked him for fixing it and for his good intentions.

The frontyard was mowed just fine.  In the backyard, where he was tending to the vegetables, My Father told me to wash out the blade well after I got down mowing back there.  And so, once I got done, I did -- I tipped it on its side and and used a hose to spray down the well.

Suddenly, Father comes towards me.  "Don't tip over the lawnmower like that!  All the gas and oil is leaking out of the lawnmower!"  Never mind that I didn't see any gas or oil leaking out.  Never mind, more importantly, that he fucking asked me to tip the lawnmower not too long before then.  And never mind, most important of all, that he never specified how I should clean out the lawnmower.  He just told me to do it.  And then he had a problem with how I did it.  (And I just checked one website: There is absolutely no fucking problem with tipping any mower on its side, or even upside down.)

Then, My Fucking Father said something that he has said a lot of times: "Next time, don't do it."  Whenever he tells me to do something, and then I do it in a way that he doesn't like, he tells me not to do it ever again.  One strike and you're out, that's my fucking old man.  It's just irredeemable, what I did.  I'll never learn.  It's all screwed up, right, Dad?  Of course, you fucking told me to do it in the first place.  As always, though, you're always vague about how exactly to do it, but you never take the blame for not being specific enough.  It's always my fault.  It always is.

This "you're dead to me" mentality after someone screws up -- I think both of my parents have that trait, but I probably got it from My Fucking Father.  I have to remember that I got it probably because he has done it to me so fucking often.

Well, I figure that it's easier to remove the grass from inside the blade area once it's dried to cake.  I think it's a situation where I should in fact not clean it until it gets so stuck up it prevents the throttle cable from being pulled all the way.  But that's not my concern anymore.  You see, My Fucking Father believes I can't do anything anymore, so he'll clean the mower from now on.

And because of that, I'm probably on his shit list.  His radar, too; as I was leaving he was feverishly cleaning the kitchen.  I put the hamper of my dirty clothes between my bed and my bedroom door.  I figure that if he thinks I can't do anything right, he'll do me a favor and do my laundry for me.  Thanks for taking care of me, pop.

I have to admit -- this one hurts.

Road Trip, Part II (Montana)

I know this is from two years ago, but I think it's time I try to finish my thoughts on our family roadtrip out west:

• You could tell as soon as we crossed the South Dakota border that Montana's vegetation was so much thicker and lusher.  It really was night and day.  There were trees and hills and verdant ... everything, everywhere you looked.
• Again, not to ridicule the vegetation and landscape of South Dakota, but as arid and brown as South Dakota was, Montana was not.  Neither state is populated, so it's not as if we were driving through civilization.  But going through the (really flat) land of South Dakota made me feel like I was in Mad Max.  Going through Montana made me feel like I was in the kingdom of Heaven.  Seriously, Big Sky country is heavenly.
• I think it took us nine hours to go from Mount Rushmore to our hotel, which we reached after winding through a gorgeous over-the-river-and-through-the-woods-type two-lane road after we hung a left.  The road we turned onto is Gallatin Rd., also known as Highway 191, but it might as well be called The Road To Heaven.  Goodness gracious great balls of fire -- there were towering pine trees, gurgling streams, onrushing rivers with white water cresting over falls big and small.  The only other memorable scenic drives I've taken are the Pacific Coast Highway and, although it is different, I-5 going from Northern to Southern California through the arid and sometimes-desert landscape of interior California.  This drive had much more bucolic scenery to take your breath away, although I will admit the vistas overlooking the Pacific Ocean while on PCH also filled my spirit.  But my God, if you ever take a road trip to Yellowstone -- if you're even in the area and just want to drive around -- go.  It's beautiful.
• It was at this point in the trip where I began to take over all of the driving duties.  Father is too old to drive; my sister didn't want to drive; and Mother ... well, she was driving in quick spurts here and there, including I think a couple times from Rapid City to here.  But it was me.  I am the middle-aged man in this group of four, and I guess that means I take the bulk of the driving.  I still think of myself as the boy who got to sit in the back seat and watch the world go by as my older brother did all the work.  But now I am doing all the work.  Does that mean I'm a grown-up now, Father?
• As much as I loved being shrouded in nature, we came across Bozeman, Mt. on the way to our rustic hotel.  It was a neat little place of civilization just in case we need it, but I felt such serenity on the beautiful drive into this part of the country that I felt like we didn't need it.  Still, Bozeman is so cute!
• The hotel had the best of both worlds.  It was decked out in wood and did an incredible job to look as one with the natural beauty of the forest.  However, once we got inside the room, it was fairly modern -- dressers, a couple flatscreen TVs, bathroom looked great, etc.  The restaurant even served several varieties of wine and offered Chilean sea bass.  We weren't roughing it even though it did its best to look like we did.
• Partly because I ate so much for dinner, and partly because I wasn't ready to go to bed, I went down to the basement of the hotel and just read as many travel advertising brochures as I could, all the while pacing back and forth and do quick stretches -- little things that kept my body active in an effort to lose weight.  I was down there for about an hour, and no one bothered me at this late hour.

I think I'll leave it there.  I'll try and hit Wyoming if I remember.

Why Have I Been Eating So Much Since Yesterday?

Well, I ate at Caribou because it's my custom to do eat a cookie and drink a drink in mornings where I don't work.  Plus, there were running a June-long special where I could get a medium coffee for only $1.50.

I ate an apple because Mother packed it in my lunch for me.

I ate Davanni's because there was a coupon that expired that day (June 30) and I hadn't eaten there in a while, and I wanted to bring something to eat with me when watching the game at the Nomad.  Didn't think I wouldn't have the stomach to each a foot-long hoagie with breadsticks, though.  I had to order all of them because the coupon required a purchase of at least ten bucks.

I ate the sandwich Mother packed for me while watching the soccer match at the Nomad because, hey, she would get mad otherwise.

I ate soup for dinner because it was soup, and it was dinner.  I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I didn't have such a big late lunch while watching the game.

I ate cereal that evening because even though I wasn't hungry at all, I was thirsty as hell in the deceptively hot weather.  Anyone ever get that way?  I was.  Oh, and I also ate cereal because I felt the pressure of drinking the 2% milk Mother bought.

I had a cookie and coffee at Caffetto because I needed a break in my routine, plus I love just chillin' here at Caffetto.  (Didn't realize that the commute getting here would be so easy.  A lot of people are taking this day off and getting a head start on Independence Weekend.  I might hate going to Caffetto in mornings if traffic is its usual headache.)  Did I need the cookie?  No, but I usually get it at Caribou, so I got it here.  Did the coffee need to be a large?  No, but I've been here four hours and counting.

Why will I eat at a fast food restaurant?  Well, I need to eat something while I'm watching the soccer game at Nomad, don't I?

Why will I eat the apple and sandwich Mother packed for me?  Well, I can't just bring it home and say I didn't want to eat it, can I?

Can't I just eat that apple and sandwich instead of buying fast food while watching the match at Nomad?  Yes, of course.  That is ... totally the smartest thing I should do. ...

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -2).  2-4 for the week.  Patrick Reusse of the Star Tribune of Minneapolis confirmed a fact I only thought was true after the Twinks beat the New York Yankees in the Bronx 7-1 on Sunday: That win marked the sixth time this year so far that they won the getaway game in order to avoid a sweep.  I think, however, that the number of series where this club has only won one game is far greater, as evidenced by their midweek series in which they won the first of a three-game set against the White Sox in Chicago but dropped the next two (the first of those two where they were down 9-1 in the top of the ninth and somehow scored five runs before losing, the second of which where they came back to the tie the game twice but coughed up the winning run in a 6-5 contest in the bottom of the eighth).  It seems like it's, like, the 20th series where they've done that, and that is how they became The Worst Team In Baseball.

Meanwhile, even though I may be late to the party when it comes to this, the youth movement that seemed to have finally crashed ashore for the squad appears to have ebbed back to the depths.  Oswaldo Arcia was given up and signed by the Tampa Bay Rays.  Miguel Sano is still injured.  The organization has finally come to the conclusion there is no use for Byron Buxton to be sent back down, but he's now riding the pine in the hopes he'll get his mind right when he gets to the plate.  And Byung Ho Park has fallen so far off the grid that he might be sent down to the minors.  How could so many young players playing so well last year all suck this year?  This reminds me of the Kansas City Royals about 15 years ago, when they were in the middle of their dark days.  Until their back-to-back World Series appearances in 2014 and last year, the only glimmer of hope the franchise had was this one first half where they came out of nowhere to go above .500 through the All-Star Break.  I think Mike Sweeney was the star on that team.  Anyway, they had a horrible second half, the Royals finished out of the money, and Manager Tony Peña Jr. went from a savior to fired not too long thereafter.  That is what the Twins' current plight reminds me of.

On the bright side, however, Brian Dozier, who is not injured (that would be Trevor Plouffe), became the first players since Alex Rodriguez and Chipper Jones a decade ago to have an extra-base hit in 11 straight games.  Dozier did that yesterday (Thursday) with a Home Run.  So at least the club has that going for him.  And Dozier now leads Eduardo Nuñez in the running for Twins Lone All-Star Representative.

They host The Bastard Washington Senators v.2.0. for the weekend starting tonight (Friday night -- I wonder if my old boss from El Paso is going to try and reach out to me), then they'll host The Bastard Philadelphia-By-Way-Of-Kansas City Athletics for three games starting on Independence Day, they they'll head to Dallas to start a four-game series vs. the Rangers starting on Thursday.