roomie

It's that time of year again. Time to either renew my lease (at a higher price, natch) or move to a new place. I'm so darn sick of moving, but I'm tired of Hermitage. And I'm tired of paying so much for rent. It's time to downgrade to a one-bedroom place.

Winston was from northwest Tennessee and contacted me about a year ago. We had a few emails back and forth and I met him once at Mothership Barbecue. He was always lovely and so encouraging.

And the man could write circles around you.

This post is written by Roomie, who sits at Winston’s desk, fingers on his keyboard, right hand on his mouse, next to a half cup of coffee that he started to drink last Friday morning. The white cup has a picture of a bucking bronco on it, a cowboy waving his whip as he moves with the zest of life. A nasty film is beginning to form on the surface of the coffee.

Winston from Nobody Asked wrote recently of scooters and bicycles in this age of rising gas prices. His roomie bought a bicycle and he,Winston, like me, really, really wants to buy a scooter.

I'm in Chicago for a week, attending the big annual USPRA conference and it hasn't been a very good trip so far. First, we had to fly Southwest, the world's lousiest airline. Of course I was given a boarding pass in the B group and was at the very back of the line.

When I drift off to sleep, nothing rattles me. I have slept through many noisy calamities, tornado like weather, and family members being awake and sick with lights on and making noise enough to wake the dead. My own snoring, which I am told causes window glass vibration throughout the neighborhood, does not wake me.

THERE IS A PLEASURE IN THE PATHLESS WOODS

by Lord Byron, (George Gordon)

Last week I had this awesomely funny post going in my mind. It was all about googling people and if it was creepy to tell them that you had googled them. But as the day wore on, the post kept changing in my mind because of fallout from said “google” until it became something I didn’t even want to write about because I was so hurt by it.

My recent mockery of the weather here in Tennessee must have finally pissed off the snow gods. Early Friday evening the flakes started falling, and it continued through the night.

Saturday night was Geezer Night. We get together several times each year for dinner out or at one of our homes with everybody bringing a dish. Good food and drinks are not the focal point of these get togethers, rather they are celebrations of each other, of lives started together, gone off in diverse directions, and now merged anew as we found each other again.