chalkdust

Now the President, he’s in the backyard playing croquet
But where I live is a different time and place
He’s gonna tell you with his hands and his words
That things are okay
Tell it to you all day long until you’re blue in the face

Did I say it’s a million years ’til January 20? Make that a billion.

After not nearly enough sleep Tuesday night, I woke up super tired Wednesday morning, the sixth of January, about as late as I can get away with and still present as interested in continuing my employment at the foundation.

Checked Twitter before I got up, as I always do, to see if the so-and-so-in-chief has blown up the world yet. I’m not joking. I’ve privately responded to people who’ve texted me over the past four years to say I was still in bed, checking to see if the incumbent has blown up the world.

With two weeks to go before inauguration day, it looked like he came pretty darn close. I couldn’t quite get my brain around what was happening based on my Twitter stream, so I stumbled to the desk, fired up the laptop, flicked on the TV, and holy freaking cow.

I won’t go into it all. My experience was pretty close to everyone else’s. My first thought, on seeing all those people climbing up the Capitol walls and banging on the doors, was it looked like a Central American despotic showdown between the people and their government.

The nation’s capitol.

I had work to do and a 10:30 phone meeting with the boss, but I kept the TV on and got through emails, then updated my running to-do list. My boss and I chatted about a few things after my update, and I mentioned I was moving a little slowly because I had the TV on. She totally understood.

I wasn’t my most productive, but I did get some social media stuff done, had a phone call with one of my favorite development officers, and got to work laying out a proposal we’ve been working on together for about a month. I didn’t actually write most of this one, but I was involved in the editing process from the beginning, so it felt good finally to lay it down on the template and think about photos, alignment, headers, and other things they pay me to be good at.

I didn’t get nearly enough done in order to make my Thursday morning target. I think the world will forgive me.

I left the TV on most of the day and evening, most of the time on mute. Between actual news, the talking heads still have to fill time, and most of the fill isn’t that interesting to me. Give me news with minimal commentary, please. It helps that I had it on ABC and they had Martha Raddatz on the Capitol grounds, and she’s among the very best.

After work I did a bit of writing. Wednesday is the designated day for the NaNoWriMo group Skype to check in. I knew when we established it that it would die pretty quickly, and it has, with only three of us who already knew each other from past NaNos checking in. I’m fine with it. They’ve become friends over the years.

We talked about writing-related New Year’s resolutions. I’ve got mine, but I’ll write about them later.

Read my novel a little and fell asleep before putting myself properly to bed. Miserable.

Breakfast-slash-lunch was the other entree I picked up from Ricado’s. Chicken piccata. It was amazing. I only messed around with ravioli the night before because I once tried a ravioli special there, a very long time ago, and really liked it. This, the regular ravioli, was still very good, but it can’t compare to my favorites. Ricado’s packed my order with two mini loaves of fresh bread. I ate a whole one with the ravioli. I ate most of the other with the piccata. So good.

Events of the day called for more pasta, so for a very late dinner, I made some penne with jarred red sauce. I added red pepper flakes, dried garlic flakes, brown sugar, gin, blue cheese, and one other thing I can’t remember. It was good. Gin was a great idea, much better than tequila.

I definitely had a slice of caramel apple pie for a snack but I don’t remember when. Not ruling out before breakfast.

Crush Girl texted me about a certain mispronunciation she heard that cracks us both up. We texted later about our stimulus checks (I got mine directly deposited New Year’s Eve). Later, I told her my writing hasn’t been as good these past few days because I broke my favorite shot glass. She was appropriately sympathetic.

JB texted me, but I don’t know if I can say what it was about. I texted Crissy to say I’d read about Jon Sciambi getting the Cubs play-by-play job, so I would probably be listening to a ton of Cubs games this season, if there is a this season. Then I followed up when I realized it was for the TV gig, not the radio gig, which bums me out because the service I subscribe to is for all the MLB radio feeds. Too bad. Sciambi is one of the best.

Penny texted to thank me for the Christmas gift. She was welcome, of course.

That’s it, and that’s enough. Leave a comment if you want to connect. Don’t go through pandemic-insurrection days alone. I’m here for you if you need someone to text with.

Staying up late Monday night was more because I knew I was off Tuesday than the product of getting stuff done, which I certainly did, but not like 2:30’s worth.

I was so tired, falling asleep was no problem, and I made the effort to put myself to bed properly, so Darth Vader was happy. I think I got nearly five hours uninterrupted before I got up to use the bathroom. Then it was back to bed for much interrupted sleep finishing. I was determined not to get up until at least 10:30.

I started with a slice of pie for breakfast, then the crossword and Spelling Bee, the news, some music, some podcasts, and responding to happy birthday texts. I got to the beach around 12:30 and swam for nearly an hour, reflecting on the new year and thinking about resolutions.

I thought I might get tacos at this taco truck in Kakaako I’ve seen a couple of times in the past couple of weeks (while Christmas shopping), which Jennifer said she tried and liked. Then I thought a long drive, maybe out to Makapuu, would be nice, and maybe another dive into the ocean.

The taco truck was still open (open ’til four every day except Tuesday, when it’s open ’til seven) and only one of the outdoor tables was occupied, so yay. I ordered a taco sampler with a side of beans and rice and two Diet Cokes. The tacos were good. This is the lunch I really wanted on my birthday, something different and grammable.

Among many downers about the pandemic has been establishments’ closing their restrooms. I have an office to go to in town, if necessary, ‘though I try to stay away during business hours because I don’t want to run into anyone. Not being able to count on a McD’s or Starbucks means planning ahead. In this case planning ahead meant just going home for the home porcelain advantage, and then a nap because boy did I need one.

So I also watched the news, returned some texts, did a couple of quick chores, and finally got back out the door well after dark. It was okay; I wasn’t jonesing for a long drive anymore anyway. Still wanted to drive.

Headed vaguely for Aiea, thinking I might pick up Italian takeout at one of three good spots in my parents’ hood (Ricado’s, Palazzo, Paesano), then drive around a bit before bringing dinner home.

Got to Ricado’s half an hour before closing, ordering two entrees (one for dinner, one for the next day’s breakfast-slash-lunch), threw them in the car, and got ice cream from BR, which I forgot was in that strip mall. You gotta have ice cream on your birthday, pandemic or no. So I got a scoop of jamoca and a scoop of cookies and cream in a cup and ate it on the trunk of my car while I read Utopia Avenue. I’m reading more slowly because I’ve very strong feelings something terrible is going to happen to one of the characters.

I ate the ravioli while I continued to read, then went to bed and kept reading. Fell asleep reading, which wasn’t good for my sleep.

I got birthday texts from Jenny (who also emailed me an Amazon gift card), Donald, Reid, Kerri, Sharon, Grace, Sylvia, Jennifer, Penny, Kristie (returning the favor the day after her birthday), Ali, and Crush Girl. My parents called me when I got home from lunch. Randy C, my grad school friend and former colleague, messaged me on FB. My uncle DMed me on IG. It was nice to hear from them all.

In all, a good day.

It’s a million years before January 20. Don’t go through the dark days alone. Leave a comment if you want someone to connect with.

Resolutions next post.

Hello. These are the first words I’m writing as a fifty-two-year-old. I’m an hour in, and it feels okay so far.

I didn’t get back to bed until about seven Monday morning and had the alarm set for nine. Darth Vader told me when I awoke that I had about two hours of sleep but it felt like zero hours.

I forgot to mention when I got up at 3:30 that I finished off what remained of the meatloaf plate, and chased it with an azuki-bean-filled malasada from Liliha Bakery. So that was a ridiculously early (and carby) breakfast.

Pretty much got right to work, returning emails first, then looking at my meeting schedule for the week. I wrote some social media content for a couple of stories I posted last week, then posted another story and wrote social media copy for that too. It doesn’t sound like much, but there are a lot of ways to mess up, especially with the social media stuff, so I work slowly and deliberately, and I triple-check everything. It’s not the funnest part of my work, I have to say, yet I find it satisfying.

And no matter how tedious or agonizing it gets, it’s certainly easier than actually writing.

On my lunch break, which was earlier than usual because of the super-early breakfast, I threw a steak in the grill pan and ate it with some leftover quinoa and some blanched green beans. It was quite delicious. No photo.

Watched the news after work, read a few blogs, played stupid phone games, and took a one-hour nap that took another half an hour to wake up from. After a few chores and several podcasts, I did some decluttering, which I’ve neglected these past two months. Bagged up a bunch of cans and bottles for recycling, then flattened some Amazon boxes and got most of it out of the house. Made a big difference, at least spiritually. It felt good to get stuff done. Oh, I also found a few stray limbs of the Monster, which I took immediate care of. I told you they would pop up here and there as I continued to clean up my living space.

I’m having a late dinner as I write this. Instant ramen with bean sprouts, bok choy, an egg, and rice vinegar. Yum.

Monday was Kristie’s birthday, so I texted her my birthday wishes. We haven’t texted since her birthday last year, which makes me a little sad. Marriage and kids ruin guy-girl friendships. We spent quite a while talking about life during COVID time, and I was pleased to see that despite her hazardous job (she teaches public elementary school), she’s being super super cautious, as I’ve been.

I still have a little thing for her. I kind of hoped I wouldn’t by now, but it’s there. I can’t let go of anyone or anything, apparently. Although I guess it’s been in hibernation these past 366 days, so there’s the solution. Or a solution.

Yeah, her birthday is the day before mine, four years later. R’s birthday is the day after mine, one year later. My work friend Ali’s is the same day, but nearly twenty years later.

Crush Girl texted to ask if I have any plans for Tuesday. I said I’m taking it off from work but beyond that I haven’t firmed anything up yet. It will begin with sleeping in, though. We chatted a little about her car and about stuff she’s reading.

I texted Jennifer to thank her for the birthday card. Texted Ali to wish her a happy birthday.

I need to write about Dan Le Batard but I’ll save it for another night. Monday was his last day at ESPN, after two decades of affiliation and employment, and the sentiment from a lot of ESPN people I admire was heartfelt and kind of lovely. His podcast will continue independently for now, and he’s bringing all his production crew with him, paying them himself. I don’t know how this is going to work.

Leave a comment if you need someone to connect with. The world’s not getting safer, at least not for a while. We’ve got a long way to go, so don’t go it alone.

I actually got nearly five good hours of sleep Saturday night. I wish I weren’t a slave to football, but you know. This is week 17, the last week of the regular season and although I knew the TV games were going to be crap (they were), they were going to be crap with playoff consequences.

More sleep would have been a better idea.

Around the beginning of the late-Sunday-morning games, I did a few chores and made breakfast-slash-lunch. My first home-cooked meal of the year: ahi in the grill pan, with blanched broccoli and bean sprouts. And a fresh pot of quinoa. It was quite good. I used the Mitchell Street seasoning and a lot of fresh lemon juice.

I did get a nap during the late game. Just an hour, but I needed it, and I think it did me some good. I spent the rest of the evening staring at the computer and thinking about resolutions, and thinking about a couple of easy tidying tasks that would really make my week a little less stressful.

I accomplished neither the setting of resolutions nor the easy tidying of certain high-traffic areas. I’m most annoyed with myself. I also had visions of grabbing takeout somewhere new, or (as with the bánh mì the other night), something new at a familiar place. It was getting close to eight and I had a lot of options, but I settled on Liliha Bakery again. Super close to the house and I heard the meatloaf calling my name.

I also added one hot cake, thinking I’d have leftover meatloaf for breakfast the next morning, perhaps with a fried egg or two. However, I kind of went to town on the hot cake first and then the meatloaf and although I didn’t finish the whole thing, I didn’t leave enough for breakfast.

I did a ridiculously time-consuming few chores, clean-up stuff that led to more clean-up stuff. You know how it is sometimes: you do A, thinking that’ll be it, but while you’re doing A you realize you could do B too, and that leads to C. Around F and G, I thought I’d relax a little, then get to F and G before bed.

A few hours later, I woke up and it was like 3:30 in the morning and I was sprawled uncomfortably on my bed with my face pressed into the pillow and my phone battery nearly on E. I flipped it on to see if I’d missed anything (as if anything happens late Sunday night).

Scrolling through IG, I saw Sonata Arctica’s mention of the death of Alexi Laiho, guitarist for Children of Bodom.

Ugh. No.

It was true. Reported on CNN and USA Today, although the obituary I shared was from Guitar World, where Alexi was an instructional columnist for a while. It was still fresh news, so no tributes from most of the bands I’d expect, except Floor Jansen (a fellow Finn), Stratovarius, and Annihilator. There will be more. He was an amazing talent, a great performer, and unique among metal musicians. And only 41. Frick.

I dragged myself up to attend to F and G and then to put myself properly to bed, but it’s now 5:42 Monday morning and I’m wondering if I should just stay up. I’m spinning all the Children of Bodom albums in reverse order today, and am on their second-most recent, I Worship Chaos (2015), one of my favorites from them and probably their least-favorably reviewed.

I still haven’t done F. I did G before I sat down to write this.

I was mostly successful in my goal not to think about work this whole four-day weekend. I’m kind of pleased with myself. Only checked my email once (nothing) and kiiiiinda thought about what I need to do this week, but once I realized what I was doing, I banished these thoughts, setting them aside for the first part of my day Monday.

It’s so interesting, this world I work in now. When you’re teaching, you can’t show up Monday and spend the first part of the day thinking about what you have to do this week. Even if you have first-period prep (the second-worst and second-best prep period), you can’t spend just one class period thinking about your week. It’s not enough time. You have to show up knowing what you’re doing.

I put my Kindle in the car Saturday afternoon when I drove to the beach, thinking I might hang around after my late swim and just read. I didn’t, and it’s still in the car, which means I didn’t read at all Sunday, when I hoped to have my book finished this weekend. Ah well. I made all my Tsum Tsum goals for the weekend and you can’t have everything.

My only texting was with Ali, who responded very early to some stuff I sent late Saturday. Time zone effect. We traded a few more later, when I claimed this month’s Amazon First Reads books (you get to claim two this month), to ask if she’d seen the offerings. They look pretty good.

DMed my uncle to say happy birthday.

It’s coming up on 6:30 and I’ve decided I can’t just stay up. I need to get at least a couple of hours of actual, formal sleep. So here we go.

Get in my comments if you need someone to connect with in these crappy pandemic days. I’m here for it.

I’m already not sleeping well, so although I went to bed at 3:30 late Friday night, I set the alarm for 5:45 so I could get to the post office early enough not to run into people. I still had to buy the postage for my second attempt at mailing Penny’s gift, and I needed a fresh book of stamps so I could mail the rent. I know I have stamps somewhere, but they weren’t in any of the usual places.

When the Saturday morning alarm went off, I realized I’d dropped right to sleep as soon as I put my head back and slept really well for the 110 minutes (according to the machine Darth Vader connects to), and conceivably could have kept going for a few hours more. It would have been my first decent sleep in more than a week.

I considered putting the post office errand off until Sunday, then nixed the idea because I’m all about getting the to-do list taken care of, right? Accomplishment and all that, although a good night’s sleep would certainly be a better accomplishment.

The errand went smoothly (whew). I was in the neighborhood, so I stopped at the Safeway, which is a pretty safe way to get groceries at 6:30 on a Saturday morning. Then picked up breakfast (a chicken katsu loco moco) at Grace’s.

Should just have gone to bed but I was hungry. Ate breakfast while watching some of the Indiana-Ole Miss football game and reading the news. After a bit of semi-contentious texting with Ali, I finally went back to bed at about 9:30 and woke up a few times but mostly stayed there until two or three. I did a few chores, finished breakfast leftovers, read the news, texted Ali some more (fresh topics, much less contentious), and realized I could hit the beach, possibly get a parking stall as others were leaving, and spent some time in the ocean.

Why not?

Saturdays at Ala Moana, I was immediately reminded, are different from weekday afternoons. The two volleyball courts at the far Kewalo end were packed — it looked like an enormous party. Ugh. There was no open parking on that end of the beach at all, all the way to the pavilions, pretty much, which is terrible for swimming. I got a fair spot at the Magic Island end, which would have been great in safer times, but I was a longer walk from the showers and the shore than I’m comfortable with.

The beach was not exactly packed on that end, but it was a pretty solid wall of occupancy near the shore. I threaded my way carefully through some space around where the showers are, and once I was in the water I was safe.

First sunset swim in my adult memory. As the sun neared the horizon behind me, a huge, high rainbow stretched from the Waikiki hotels to the Piikoi condos in front of me. I stopped swimming a while just to watch it. Some nearby stand-up paddleboarders did the same.

I took my time getting out, just enjoying dusk (for a change; it’s my least favorite time of day). I had resolutions on my mind and hadn’t settled on anything yet. The line for cars getting out of the park was long, but it moved well, and I had my 90s rap playlist going, so I wasn’t in any hurry. Note to self: the L&L on the Kewalo end has reopened but I’ve never noticed because apparently it opens later. It was still open as I passed sometime past seven.

Stopped for wings at Wingstop on the way home.

I spent most of my evening reading some websites. I’m interested in doing some work on my car stereo and I didn’t know jack about car stereos. Now I know slightly more. It’ll be a long-term project because of costs, not to mention other repairs I’m giving higher priority, so I have time to absorb some knowledge. The guy who had the car before me had a sweet setup, removing most of the good components he had when he gave me the keys, but he left the power amp to retrieve later. When my fan belt snapped the second day I drove it to work and asked the guy if he had ever seen what I was looking at (the belt was actually shredded), he said he felt terrible and although I said it wasn’t his fault and he had nothing to apologize for, he insisted I keep the poweramp and he wouldn’t hear any discussion about it.

So I’m not starting with nothing, and the head unit (see how quickly I’ve picked up the jargon?) is definitely good enough for my purposes for now.

Anyway. That’s what I did Saturday evening instead of making resolutions or reading my novel. Went to bed around 2:00. Progress.

Crush Girl wasn’t very chatty again, despite my few decent efforts to engage. It was fine. Ali and I ended on good notes, texting late into the evening.

I didn’t realize until I turned in that I didn’t do any snacking. I also didn’t drink enough water, which is super unusual for me. I also haven’t had a decent serving of veggies in a few days. I also have had takeout for every meal (except the instant ramen Friday night), which I am not apologetic about.

I did pick up some nice veggies from Safeway, not to mention an ahi steak and a ribeye, so the kitchen will be open once again before long.

People keep dying. Vaccinations aren’t being administered quickly enough. 45 isn’t going gentle into that good night. As I write this, the Washington Post is breaking a story (with accompanying recording) about his one-hour conversation with the secretary of the state of Georgia in which he tries to influence him to commit fraud. When is the last time he spent an hour on solving problems related to the pandemic? I think it’s been a while. Meanwhile, we each slog through the best we can. Don’t slog alone. If you need some connection, leave a comment. You can connect with me.

I continue to sleep terribly. I’m not worried just yet. I would like it to just stop, though.

If you know anyone who lives in Hawaii, you’ve probably already heard about how ridiculous and crazy the illegal aerial fireworks were New Year’s Eve. If you haven’t, do a YouTube search and you’ll certainly find several videos documenting the insanity.

Someone in my neighborhood — I’ve decided I don’t want to know who — likes setting off these enormous BOOMs from time to time in the middle of the night. They sound like they’re going off right over my house. No sparkles or candles or anything. Just BOOM. So I knew what I was in for.

The neighbors in general enjoy their fireworks, and this year was especially festive, people getting their good-riddances out, blowing 2020 out the door with red paper and black powder. I can’t say I blame them, and to each his or her own as long as nobody’s property is damaged (which happens somewhere on this island every year), but I would have preferred a much quieter night.

I’d considered all week the idea of starting 2021 with a sunrise swim, but after Thursday’s two visits and my overexertion, I knew it was best if I just let my body soak up as much rest as possible. I was out of bed around 9:00 on January 1 with definite plans for naps later.

I was thinking Taco Bell for breakfast with a bottle of Cava I picked up during Christmas shopping. I like Spanish wines but had never tried a bubbly. I quickly scribbled a list of to-dos for the day and took care of one item right away: called Mom and Dad to say Happy New Year.

Taco Bell serves breakfast until 11, and it was getting close. I got there with about thirty minutes to spare, only to discover it wasn’t opening January 1 until 11. So much for that plan.

Fine. I had other things scawled upon the napkin on my desk. Picked up a money order at 7-Eleven for the rent, then got back to Taco Bell to get some stuff for breakfast, only they were the lunch-dinner items. I figured I’d live, even if these days I far prefer the breakfast menu, while the regular menu has dimmed a bit.

I ate breakfast-slash-lunch and drank my Cava while reading the news and then my novel. Took a very long, glorious nap. I kind of lazed most of the day away until it got dark, and I realized I hadn’t done the stuff on the napkin. I still had time to redeem the first day of the year.

The big item was wrapping and packing the last of my Christmas gifts for the mail. Penny’s late gift, the one that I stupidly mailed to Kapio on Kauai. JB’s family in Virginia. My uncle in San Diego. I’d already paid for shipping labels and postage on it all, so all I had to do, once it was boxed up with the labels affixed, was drive it to the post office and slide it in the parcel drop.

It was a little late, so I saved the drive for Saturday morning. Then I kind of vegged for a few hours until forcing myself into bed at 3:30 in the morning. No, I don’t know why I didn’t just go to bed at half past midnight when I was finished with my tasks, except I hadn’t yet decided to do the mail drop Saturday — I thought I might combine a late trip with takeout from somewhere, only the more I thought about it the fewer my appealing options, and by then I was hungry, the Taco Bell feast only going so far with my metabolism.

So I made a bowl of instant ramen, a boring one with no additions except one egg and some rice vinegar. It was still delicious — if you’re paying attention, you’ll note it’s been months since I last had instant ramen.

There were a bunch of Happy New Year texts through the day, from my classmate Tiger, from Reid and Penny,. from Charles the Rock, from Jennifer, and from my uncle. I sent Crush Girl photos from both my beach visits, trying to nudge her into conversation but I knew she was busy and I never really got what I sought. It’s okay. She did mention she’d begun reading a book I think very highly of — one of those Newberys — and I asked her to let me know her thoughts when she’s done.

In addition to the two meals, I also had a slice of caramel apple pie sometime in the early evening. OH. I remember something else about the evening I mostly lazed away: my stomach was pretty upset about something. At first I thought it was hunger, but whatever my tum-tum wanted, it wasn’t caramel apple pie, because that just made it more upset. I tried to do the gift-wrapping feeling this way but it was really unpleasant so I went back to bed. THIS is another reason I was up so late. By the time I was feeling closer to normal it was already late, and the gift-wrapping took a while.

A nice combination of productive, lazy, gluttonous, ill, and wine-drunk to begin what must certainly be a better year, right?

Resolutions, next post.

Don’t wander the desert in solitude. If you need some connectivity, leave a comment and I’ll be happy to work something out so you have someone to send remedies for upset stomachs.

The eastern world, it is explodin’
Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’
You’re old enough to kill but not for votin’
You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’?
And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin’
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
You don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

So yeah. I turned in at around 9:30 Wednesday night, which should have given me five hours of sleep before heading to the laundry. Of course it never works out that way. I was awake at 12:30 and never really went back to sleep. I gave up at 2:00, fifteen minutes ahead of my alar, and just packed up to go.

Since lockdown began, I have always lugged my laptop, my wireless keyboard, and my mifi device to the laundry, but this time I just packed my Kindle, looking forward to a couple of hours of early-early morning silence and Utopia Avenue.

There were more people than usual when I got there, but everyone stayed far away from me, and they were done before I was, so I had the place to myself through most of the drying, and I made good progress in the novel.

I’d brought my board shorts with me, thinking I might try a sunrise swim at Ala Moana to end the year, and was still undecided when I stopped at the office to use the restroom. The office is midway between the laundry and the beach. When I reminded myself that I wasn’t on a schedule, I had the day off, and I had a reliable set of wheels and all day to do whatever I wanted (including sleep and read), circumstances nearly dictated a trip to the beach.

Not a lot of people had the same idea. I had my end of the ocean to myself, and although I’m discouraged by how quickly one falls out of shape (not that I ever was in shape, but I lost even that). I stayed in the water well past the point where I was spent, and just enjoyed being wet and salty. The sun came up over the Waikiki hotels about midway through my time, and it was lovely.

Despite the Quarter Pounder (with cheese) combo I ate at the laundry merely a few hours earlier, I was hungry by the time I was ready to go, so I did something I haven’t done since well before the lockdown. Picked up breakfast at the L&L in Ala Moana Park. There are two, one of them on my end of the beach, but that one hasn’t reopened since it closed in March. I don’t know when the Magic Island concession reopened, but I noticed it some time ago.

Ordered a grilled garlic ahi plate and scarfed it at a picnic table near the pond where they race radio-controlled sailboats. The place is getting a facelift, with one of those orange meshy plastic fences around the water and its shore, but a couple of older guys found an opening and had their fishing poles. I enjoyed watching them as I inhaled my second breakfast.

I stopped at Hawaiian Pie Company to pick up an apple caramel pie. I don’t remember the order of what I did next, but it involved a nap, some novel-reading, reading the news, the crossword and Spelling Bee, and a couple of little chores.

Then I whipped out the guitar.

Not my guitar, the one I bought in college and still own, which needs a little repair but the piece needing replacement is lost somewhere in my living room. That Takamine (whose name is Joanne), which has served me well and will again, is temporarily on the injured list until I find that piece.

My coworker Kapio moved to Kauai a couple of years ago. She still works with us but they’re letting her work remotely, which is great for her and great for us. She’d bought an old used classical some time before, and didn’t want to take it with her, so she gave it to me in an old, broken gig bag. It’s sat in my laundry room these past two years.

But I’d listened to Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction” on endless repeat all morning and some new lyrics to update it (I just found out McGuire himself updated the lyrics a few times, the first time when he was on Christian record labels), and I was itching to play it. I had visions of recording it with some of the (still unused) podcast toys I picked up in 2020 and maybe posting it here.

Yikes. I thought I was out of swimming shape. I’m reeeeeeally out of guitar shape. My chording fingers yowled at me after twenty minutes. I have very little experience with nylon or the wider neck of the classical guitar, but this doesn’t explain all of my issues. I understood quickly I would have to work myself back into playing shape, maybe get some callouses back on my fingertips and get used to playing the classical.

So I paid online for a new set of strings from the music store sharing the building with the nonprofit I work for and drove to the office building for the second time in twelve hours. Also bought a new harmonica in case I actually decide to record myself. Might be a fun way to learn to use these toys, since I don’t know when I’m going to be able to do the podcast of my vision.

A guy from the store walked my purchase right out to my car and thanked me.

And then I hit the beach again. Why not? was all the reason I needed. Got a decent parking space and jumped in and it was even better than earlier. Pushed myself a little harder, then just goofed around past the buoys for half an hour or so. Reflected. Considered the rest of my weekend.

A nice way to spend the last day of a crappy year.

I wanted to pick up a pizza from Dolan’s downtown, but there were so many people in there I couldn’t bring myself to venture in, and when I tried calling for a curbside order, the phone was busy. Plan B (it was a day of plan Bs): dim sum from Mei Sum one block over. Char siu bao, turnip cakes, pot stickers, taro gok with scallops.

That was my year-end meal, enjoyed with copious amounts of ice water. I hadn’t hydrated well most of the day and could feel it.

I must have overdone it at the beach because I had a headache and was super tired. Maybe some heat exhaustion, or maybe dehydration? I don’t know but I had to go to bed after dinner and didn’t get up until around nine. Spent the last hours of the year listening to music and reading my novel. Not at the same time. Also did the Friday crossword (it was cute and fairly challenging — I finished it in seventeen minutes) and the Friday Spelling Bee. Shortly after midnight, I had a slice of pie.

For the record, my first meal of 2021 was a delicious slice of apple caramel pie. Keep your ozoni, which I love but which is not worth fighting for mizuna over. This is a better tradition.

I read until I dropped, sometime around 3:00. Good riddance 2020.

Reid texted to ask for some parental guidance info on Ted Lasso, which I was happy to give. Sylvia texted me from the office late in the day to say Happy New Year’s Eve. We chatted about a few things in the Cindy-Suzanne-Julie group text, including our plans for food and drink. Crush Girl and I texted a little about what we’re reading.

Hope anyone reading this got through okay. Leave a comment if you want someone to connect with. The days are brightening, eventually and slowly, but we’re not out of this yet. Don’t go through it disconnectedly.

Tuesday night I slept terribly for the first half of the night and then okay for the rest. Got things rolling at work (emails, mostly) and drove to Lox of Bagels to pick up a couple of bagel sandwiches. Breakfast was a lox and cream cheese sandwich on a whole wheat bagel, with everything. Delicious. Lunch was a roast beef sandwich on a sesame bagel. Also delicious.

Work was decently productive. Nothing like Tuesday, but also nothing like Monday. The training on Zoom was okay. The December staff newsletter went out in email in the early afternoon, and I got a couple of emails from coworkers in response. Some of my colleagues apprecaite the monthly one-minute writing tip I write.

When work was done, I got right to work getting stuff ready to do laundry and refill my drinking water. Did the full bleach-rinse thing on all thirteen gallon jugs. Packed the laundry. Skipped dinner since I knew I’d be hitting the McD’s drive-though on my way to the laundromat.

I did have a few taro chips for a snack.

I had enough time to read a little and do the Thursday NYT crossword early. Turned in shortly after nine o’clock.

Crush Girl and I texted most of the day. I helped her brianstorm some gift ideas for a mutual friend. We talked a little about lunch and stuff we’re reading.

Except for journaling and work stuff, I didn’t do any writing, but that was part of the deal for December anyway: I wasn’t going to do any creative writing on laundry nights. This is only the second laundry night of December for me. Wish I could say it was only the second night I didn’t write anything.

Leave a comment if you need someone to connect with in these pandemic days of auld lang syne, whatever that means!

Somehow, my sleep Monday night was worse than Sunday night. I don’t know how I keep doing this to myself.

I do know that I crawled to the desk at about 8:30 to look at emails and think about these three student profiles I’m working on, then attended a short training session on Zoom (mid-year self-assessments), then at 10:00 I made a run to Mexico restaurant, a very short drive from the house, to pick up my meals for the day.

It’s a good restaurant, or at least it’s quite popular, and I think I’ve eaten there twice, both times in its first year, maybe ten years ago. I’m trying to mix things up a little.

I had the chilaquiles for breakfast. They were good, but probably not as good as the same dish at Serge’s or Scratch. I also picked up an adobado burrito, which was enough food for lunch and dinner. All three meals from one mexican restaurant. The burrito was definitely above average. Whatever they call the preparation of the pork filling, I need to learn to make it.

Mexican food must have been what the doctor ordered, because I was super productive the rest of the day. I didn’t do any actual writing, but I edited a few things, corresponded with a few people, and put some good content on the website. Then I rescheduled my Wednesday one-on-one with my supervisor to late Tuesday so I could sit in on another Zoom training Wednesday.

Part of it was motivation to get as much checked off the list before the long weekend as possible. I get a four-day weekend here, and I am going to do my best not to think about work at all until the first working day of 2021.

After work I goofed around on my phone and read, and did a tiny bit of writing. I feel like there might be a few chores in there too but honestly I can’t remember. It was supposed to be laundry day, but since I’m taking Thursday off, I thought it was better to do the laundry Thursday; then I wouldn’t be dealing with more sleep deprivation. Or maybe I would be but it wouldn’t be while trying to work; it would be while trying to vacation.

There was a lot of texting. The Cindy-Julie-Suzanne group text shared some of the stuff we’re reading. Sylvia sent me a photo of her Yeti mug with one of the tea bags I left for the office. That was cute.

Crush Girl texted me a lot through the day. We talked about baking, about New Year’s plans, about Nigella Lawson mispronouncing “microwave” (she said “mee-cro-wah-vee”), about some Christmas gifs we received, and (the best part) books I recommend she begin the new year reading. I love it when people ask for book recommendations.

Ali asked for some creative ideas about something I won’t mention here. Of course I had a ton of ideas but it was an activity I didn’t want to think about her engaging in, especially in these pandemic days. But my feelings are irrational, and I knew it even while I was feeling them, so I did my best. I think she got something usable from my ideas. I told her I have more, so she can ask again any time.

It’s nice to be useful. She didn’t ask me for financial advice or to sing a high C, neither of which I would have been any good for. She asked for creative ideas. Crush Girl asked for book recommendations. These are things I can do.

I’ve continued to listen to Joan Jett — moved on to her third and fourth albums, which aren’t as good as her first two, but she is very good. A charismatic recording artist with her own sound. Before I heard these albums all the way through the way I have, if someone had announced she’d be here in concert, I would have been pretty apathetic. Now, if she comes (and if the world is a safer place), I am totally going and I’m bringing friends.

Spent a bit of time listening to Weird Al Yankovic, too. It was a nice, nostalgic trip. His rhymes on “Smells Like Nirvana” and “Eat It” are just so clever.

I read Weird Al loves the music of Tonio K., whom I also love, so I spun Tonio’s Notes from the Lost Civilization. Such a great album.

Somebody remind me to expound sometime this weekend on how I hate the last days of a year, but how they don’t feel quite as terrible this year as in other years.

The year draws to a close. Don’t ring out the old, feeling lost or disconnected. It doesn’t have to be that way. Leave a comment and I’ll send you some contact info. Just be warned I’m almost always a bit glum on December 31.