Well OK, then

I got tired of waiting for my "real" computer to fix itself, so I'm blogging from Toni's laptop, which it feels like I'm typing with my hands inside a shoebox. I think I'm gonna call my cousin Steven, the zombie-killing computer guru and gun whore. If he can't fix it I'll use it to start building my wall of debris to impede the zombie hordes from assembling and making an organized charge.

Because I haven't blogged for a few days, this might be a bit long. So, in no particular order, here we go.

Toni and I went to the Highland Village Red, White and Blues festival on Saturday to hear Kevin Fowler (who I love) and to watch the fireworks. Now, as most of you know, I do my best to bounce my eyes and to keep from looking at women as sex objects. I think most of the time I feel like I'm fairly cognizant of my surroundings and aware of where I ought not to be staring. I have to admit, though - at that outdoor festival there was just too much skin to avoid seeing. I don't remember when the percentage of girls wearing really short shorts went up, but Good Lord, man. It was worse than any night I ever worked at any of the clubs, including the night that Girls Gone Wild was filming at the bar I was working at. There was a lot of ass and hard body to look at, man, and even though I wasn't interested in any ass at all (other than my wife's) it you couldn't help but see it, no matter where you looked. I don't know of a nice way to say it.

Anyway, after a while it rally started to get to me. I felt uncomfortable, tense and claustrophobic. I felt like I wasn't able to enjoy myself because I couldn't look anywhere. I couldn't watch the stage. I always have a tendency to constantly scan a crowd for threats (I know - it's a paranoid trait) but I felt like I couldn't do that, and it's hard to me to relax when I can't. The fireworks were OK because they're up in the air and there's no tail to see up there. Anyway, I was getting really sensitive about it and it got to me to the extent that it diminished my enjoyment of the festival. I guess it's the equivalent of an alcoholic getting annoyed because folks are waving a whiskey bottle under his nose. And oddly enough, I started getting annoyed and a little mad at all those girls (especially the ones that could pull it off) for wearing stuff that helps me to burn images of their bodies in my mind and for wearing shorts that affected me like that, even though I don't guess it's really their fault. It reminded me of the folks I used to say that girls shouldn't wear stuff to cause their brothers to stumble, but I've always rejected that because even if women were wearing burkas I'd still have fantasized about 'em. So there's that.

We've started trying to integrate the cats together. It hasn't always been smooth. Whenever one of the cats from the orange team enters my folks room, BunnyCat climbs onto something high, shrieks at the orange cats at top of her lungs for half a minute and then hides under the bed. The other cats remain largely unimpressed, though with a good enough display of aggression the orange team will flee. Pumba is the most obsessed with becoming BunnyCat's best friend, much to her annoyance. Oscar tends to be a follower. Timone, with his oversized fox ears and big lemur eyes, tends to remain the least involved in the drama.

We lost our big contract on Saturday to another company that was a lot more expensive but had their ISO certification (which we don't have and can't afford to get) in hand. I hated to lose that contract (it was worth $65K), but sometimes God tells you "no". It's not the first time He's told me no, and it won't be the last time, either. If I didn't choose to continue to trust God with our future, I'd be really angry and upset still. We are both choosing to trust Him and to believe that He loves us and has a good plan for us, and that He was something better for us down the line.

A new club is opening up in Lewisville and I stopped by today to drop off an application to be a bouncer again. Apparently they're fully staffed, but they seemed pretty interested. I'm still gonna keep my job at the theater, but maybe switch to days up there and nights at the club. I'm losing 75% of my paycheck to garnishments from the AG's office, and I'd like some more income during the summer when the business at out little company dries up for a few months. Plus I miss it. I miss the adrenaline rush from fighting, and I'm just not gonna get that at the theater.

Last night I finally figured out that I waste entirely too much time watching TV. From now on, I'm not going to watch it unless I'm specifically watching something, and not just laying n front of it in a semi-conscious state, letting it turn my brain into tapioca. Now it's only on if I want background noise to ignore, or if we both want to watch something, like a movie.

I'm getting excited about getting the Bronco, which ought to be in the next few days (or weeks). I'm looking forward to having a project to fix up a bit at a time. I've already started looking around for the best prices on the stuff I'm going to need, and I already have my JC Whitney catalog the way.

Nothing exciting otherwise, I don't think. I think this week I might write about not being a cop anymore, and what I'm thinking about doing about that.

Anyway, that's about it for tonight. I'll get back on tomorrow, as I hate not blogging. It makes me feel all bottled up and angsty.

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