Monday, August 31, 2009

Michael Kellogg's soliloquy.

The carnival is in town.

I woke up this morning and it was freezing, how wonderful! I spent the entire morning lounging around the house in pants (pants!), a long sleeved shirt and slippers, it was glorious. I am so excited now for fall I can hardly contain myself. I hate summer with a passion; I would much rather be cold than hot. I remembered something Nicole said this morning while I sat at my desk and gazed out the window at the clearest day I have seen in a while. We were talking about how weird this year was going to be being home and not at school. She said that she was excited to be home to be around when the seasons change. I never really thought about it before, but she is right, I have not seen summer turn into fall in Lovettsville in 4 years, or fall turn to winter or winter to spring or any of it! You never think about what you are missing when you are at school, but now I realized that I missed a lot.


I hung out with Tiffany’s older sister Melissa last night. I have known Melissa as long as I have known Tiffany, but I did not really get to know her till the wedding stuff started happening and we planned the shower together and did bridesmaid things. She is super cool. We watched a movie called True Stories that David Byrne from the Talking Heads made. It was awesome; everyone should go and put it at the top of their Netflix lists instantly. So, now I am really into the Talking Heads. Thank you Melissa!


I don’t have a lot to report today, I just have the day off so I thought I should post something. I am thinking about printing off a few blogs to send along with my other writing samples to grad schools. They are the most accurate representation of what I have been working on lately, and I think some of the ones that have a point could potentially stand alone as pieces.


Stupid question, do they have Netflix in the UK? Is that just an American thing?


So anyway, if anyone liked any of my blogs, let me know. I was thinking the Oscar Wilde one (after fixing it up a bit perhaps) and the Netflix one (after doing the same) but who knows. Blogs are really the way the world seems to be going these days, so I don’t see why I couldn’t send a few.


I am in a coffee shop right now that had a big chalk board wall that people can just come up and draw on. I just noticed a small note near the radiator that says “Life is bad being a little brother! Michael Kelloggg.” Wow Michael, that sucks. Actually, it might not say “bad”, it either says that or something like “gurd” or “burd” or “gud.” Clearly being a little brother has also affected his handwriting skills. Whatever it says, Michael clearly feels very strongly about it because he used an exclamation mark.


I should be doing something productive. I have a work date with Beth tonight, I’ll work then.


“Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.”


~major7th

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Shameless plug, as a famous WVU puppeteer once said..


OK, I’m plugging my other blog.


So, as I said, I’m writing the blog for Döner Bistro these days. I just posted another one a second ago, so check it out here: http://doenerusa.blogspot.com/


If you don’t feel like checking it out, you should at least go here: http://www.bestgermanrestaurant.com/details/629.html and vote for us for the best German restaurant in America. Help me out here; it would be really awesome if we won. We are currently in 5th place out of 400 restaurants in the country, so that has to say something. And what’s more amazing is that all the other restaurants ahead of us have been in business for YEARS, like 15 to 20. How many years has Döner Bistro been around? About one and a half. So go vote please! I wanna win!


We also have lots of other places you can go check out what’s going on. Here’s the list:

Facebook page

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=25808219&ref=profile#/pages/Leesburg-VA/DOENER-BISTRO/60463489177?ref=search

Facebook group

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=25808219&ref=profile#/group.php?gid=13846194791&ref=search

Myspace

http://www.myspace.com/doenerusa

Twitter

http://twitter.com/ItsDoenerTime


I think that’s all, but I’m not sure. OH, they have a website, but it’s still under construction at the moment. I will let you know when that’s up, because I am writing the text for it and it’s going to be awesome.


Alright, that’s all for now. If you want to see me make a fool of myself check out Twitter. Let it be known that I am not a fan of Twitter, I think it’s one of the things that’s wrong with the world (that’s harsh) but unfortunately it’s silly for a business to not have one these days. There are SO many people who actually care about Twitter that it is a perfect way to get the word out about things. I think I am going to Twitter about the new blog being posted and stuff like that.

Oh, and I did not make the Twitter page, that was another Dönerista. She gets all the credit for the background which is pretty awesome.


Ok, back to work!


~major7th

Monday, August 24, 2009

I don't care about Third Eye Blind

Today’s the first day of class at WVU and I’m not going. I don’t care about Fall Fest, I don’t care about the parties I wouldn’t have gone to anyway; I care about the classes. I miss getting up way too early to go to a new class, sizing up the teachers in the first 2 seconds of their lecture and yes, even getting my first assignments of the semester. I miss new folders and notebooks. I miss new syllabi (or as my old Linguistics’ teacher would say, ‘syllabuses’). There is nothing quite like being a student, it is a time in life like no other. It has it’s extremes highs and it’s negative lows, but it was a game I could always win in the end. OH MY GOD I miss buying books for classes. Getting a new class booklist is one of the greatest things in the world (I’m only talking about English classes, duh, I hate other textbooks). Today begins the first year of my conscious life I’ve not been in school.

So here is what I’m doing today. I got up at 10am because I don’t have work till 4. I made ordering a new phone too complicated and made my mom mad. I ate half a chocolate state of Virginia and had half a can of half frozen, flat coke zero for breakfast. I’m now at a coffee shop not doing the work I came here to do, and in about an hour I have to drive down the street to work and stay there till closing time. Hopefully Beth will visit me. That’s my day.

So to all you college students out there dreading your first day of school and complaining about every little thing, I have two words for you: shut up. I would trade places with you in an instant, and that’s saying something because I actually really love my job.

Other things unrelated. Look at this picture:




Web cams are really fun. Look at this one:





This is a girl I knew at school dressed up as a character in a short story I wrote a few semesters ago. This girl, Jamie, loved my story and my character (named Ziggy) and told me she was going to come to class dressed as her one day. She never did, and then the other day I see this picture on facebook. My aunt thinks’ it’s weird that Jamie did this, but I think it’s fantastic. How many times has someone dressed up s one of your characters? That’s what I thought.


One last thing. Amanda Palmer is really cool. ‘Who Killed Amanda Palmer’ that is, I have not heard anything else by her. Alright, that’s it.

~major7th

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Lists, microwaves, Lo.

Quick list of things I have been doing, with pictures, in no particular order.


Got new job at current job. I now write the Döner Bistro’s blog, update their myspace, facebook, newsletter and other various things they need me to do. My official title is ‘Management Assistant’. I would have preferred ‘writer’ or something like that (since that’s what I was hired to do), but I guess Assistant sounds more professional. No matter what I’m called, I love my job. Super fun.



Hung out with Beth. I don’t get to do this as much as I would like, my job keeps me busy, but I hope to do more of this in the future. She does not know I took this picture.




Served my family at the Döner. They came for my uncle’s birthday. Everyone liked their food and I liked the cheesecake they brought. I think it tasted a little better because I kept it in the beer fridge while they ate their meal. Who knows.


Showed Jen the sights in Lovettsville and took her to the airport. She is currently in Denmark, so at the moment I have two friends in said country. We managed to have no-crying goodbye, but I would be lying if I said I did not tear up a bit on the ride home.



Said goodbye to Tiffany and James. They are the others in Denmark, happily married and living it up. That was a really sad goodbye as well.



Skyped for the first time. I visited Jen when she was still in Morgantown a few weekends ago and we Skyped with Liz for like a million hours. It was awesome, I wish I had fast enough internet to do it at home.

So that’s that for now. I have been working a ton, but it keeps me busy which I like. Soon I am going to for real apply to Brooks. I read Lolita the other day. Great book, very disturbing, but still great. I went to see G.I. Joe with my cousin Nathan last night. It was surprisingly good. I was all set to boycott it because I thought it was going to be all sexed up, but it was really hard core and only a little cheesy. Very impressed.

Back to work!

“We used to microwave,
Now we just eat nuts and berries,
you got it, you got it”

~major7th

Monday, August 17, 2009

Sundays are weird now.

I have a lot of things I wanted to blog about for once, but I’m not going to. Maybe tomorrow.

Yesterday I was in a bizarre mood. As I drove home from work I gazed out the windows at the clearness and decided that when I got home I would take my yellow pad of paper and sit out on the hammock and write. Just like in old pictures. You have to wonder how much those people you see in photographs, lounging in the grass, stretched out on a blanket with a pen either behind one ear or being thoughtfully chewed, their shoes haphazardly discarded nearby, surrounded by only the natural, home in the distance; you have to wonder how much those writers actually get written. It’s a very romantic image to be sure, but not a very productive one. Grass tickles. Bugs are annoying. Sun’s bright.

I for one got nothing accomplished except…strangeness.

Pillow under one arm, writing utensils, i-pod and notes in the other; I made my way outside to the hammock along the tree line. It was nearing 8 o’clock pm and the crickets were screaming. It’s a sound you never really hear unless you are actually listening; a sound so ordinary to dirt-road life that you usually disregard it as silence. Crickets are a country quiet. That night I heard them, loud and clear, and was surprised they were not scaring away the dogs next door.

The hammock was full of sticks and leaves, oblivious indicators that we did not use it as much as one should. Settling in I was instantly in the sort of comfort where you never want to move ever again if you could only feel that contented forever. It’s sort of like the feeling you have when you first wake up in the morning after having sunk into your covers in such a way that the bed is a part of you, expect without the angry feeling accompanied with being awake (or is that just me?). I managed to write two sentences in red gel pen before succumbing to laziness and putting it aside:

‘Beth turned to me the other day at B in the B and said “we’re freelance.” I was writing Döner Bistro things and she was designing a logo for a dog show.’

That’s it. I did not even get to the point of the statement, the point that being ‘freelance’ was incredibly cool and earth-shatteringly fantastic. I sunk into the aged weave of the tattered hammock and let my point drift away in the light summer breeze that comes right before sunset, the one that brings the fireflies.

After a while I felt something head butting me from below and looked down to see whose head it was. My cat Slate had found me, as they always do, and wanted my attention. He wanted so badly for me to be touching him that he managed to get half his body through one of the bigger holes in the hammock before getting stuck halfway. I wish I had had my camera, it was adorable. I pushed him back through and picked him up properly, placing him on my lap and becoming a whole new sort of comfortable that accompanies having a cat in your lap.

Slate is thus named because he is completely gray in color, like slate. He started doing this funny thing he has always done where he digs his head into you and falls over. He likes to rub his head on things and then sort of curl up under himself, be it your hand and then falling onto your face or your chest falling onto your stomach. I have never meet a cat who has ever purposefully head butted me quite like Slate.

The bugs came eventually, and not the good kind. But I was still so comfortable; it was like I was in a trance. Before I realized doing it I was standing up, pillow and pad under my arm once more, i-pod (buds in ears (Fiction Plane)) stuck between my bra strap and sticky skin of my shoulder, pens under the other strap. Probably looking quite foolish with electronics sticking out of my bra, hugging a pillow and carrying my shoes, I started walking around my yard. No one was looking. Who cares?

Walking barefoot in the grass felt as good as having a cat in my lap on a hammock. Something about the warm air mixed with the coolness of the grass on my feet was just like having a foot massage, but so much better. When I did have a sort of foot massage, pedicure for Tiff’s wedding, it hurt and tickled in a bad way. The grass was wonderful, so I kept walking.

First place I ended up was our old tree house. I had not been to that part of the yard in ages, years is extremely safe to say. Dad and I built it ages ago. It’s not much, just boards in a tree, but it was awesome at the time. I was shocked to see it in such disrepair; I did not think a bunch of boards in a tree could age so poorly. One board was almost nonexistent, only hanging on by a few spindly lengths, a splinter of its former self. I’m sure it could not hold my weight anymore, but not because I weigh more. One shoelace like string was hanging down from the branches that I seem to remember once being a rope. I could hardly imagine GI Joe climbing up there or pipe cleaner people making the leaves their home. If I had had shoes on I might have climbed up. But I kept walking.

I walked around the edge of the yard, past where our old garden used to be and crossed the driveway in the ‘front’ of the house. It will be the front when the house is done, but till then, it’s the side to me. Ducking under branches I made my way to the little grape vine covered swing and sat down. Hugging my pillow I was yet again extremely comfortable. I could not shake this weird feeling nor put a name on it. Every time I started staring out into the yard my eyes blurred and my mind went blank. I was actually thinking about nothing.

I remember in elementary school our librarian Mrs. Neningger (no idea how to spell that) told us a story about the Dewy Decimal System. I don’t remember anything about the story except one part where an old man was talking to a young kid, possibly his grandson. The old man said, when asked what he was thinking about, that he was thinking about nothing. The kid said that was impossible, that you are always thinking about something because if you know you are thinking about nothing you are still thinking about the fact that you are thinking about nothing, which is something. The old man looked at him sternly and said “you don’t know what I’m thinking and I’m telling you that I’m thinking about nothing. You should try it sometime.”

I remember being sort of blown away in the 3rd grade upon hearing this part of the story and trying to think about nothing, which in turn was something, and then trying to imagine what it felt like to have no thoughts. It’s as hard as thinking about colors, and thinking about the possibility that what one person sees as yellow might not be what you see as yellow, but since we all grew up calling it yellow, it is yellow. I might see a rock, and it is brown to me, but to someone else it might look purple, but what they see as purple they call brown, thus we both see a brown rock. Anyway, it was all very confusing to my elementary school mind.

The point is that in the yard yesterday I really was thinking about nothing, and it was nice. But eventually the bugs found me again. One bit me on the side of the head, so I itched my face and started walking again. I walked along the tree line to the edge of the back yard, another place I had not been in years. Weird how I have lived in this house for ever, and yet there are parts of my own yard that I have literally not visited in years. How is that possible? Oh ya, I never go outside in the summer because it’s hot. So why was I walking around my yard barefoot yesterday?

The place I remember as a burn pile is now grown over and green, almost like a hill. There is a mowed path back there and I did not even know if I was in my own yard anymore. When the new neighbors moved in no one ever told me where our property ends and theirs begins. I was at school, it didn’t matter. I got to the very back and looked over the fence as best I could through the branches and leaves of over grown nature. I thought that if I stood there long enough, maybe our cat Petey might come home from the neighbors he ran away to. He didn’t.

I kept walking, past Uncle Dale’s old cars almost completely covered with vines, past where my old bunny is buried somewhere, and looked out over the yard. We have a big yard. I wanted to roll around in the grass, but the bugs were chasing me and if I stopped for a second, they would eat me alive.

Then suddenly I was hot and I went inside.

~major7th