I have been receiving exorbitant amouts of mail lately. I absolutely loathe going to the post-office, UPS in Chicago is infamous for their sluggish service, so I have decided to respond via my blog.
From Uncle Matt:
Dear Smokey,
I can only imagine the hardship you are going through during this most difficult of seasons. As this is my 3rd attempt at overcoming this most frigid of WI seasons, I can only say good luck. My mental state is somewhat compromised from 3 days of intensly mind numbing training. I know you can relate- think UN council meetings where you would just assume start a war to liven things up a bit. Boy does the China PM like to go on.... The only ray at the end of my training was large quantities of Spotted Cow in the hotel. Yet no matter how much I drank didn't seem to make me drunk enough to forget the trainer saying 'What questions do you have about audit logs?' With such an opportunity to day dream (its the only way I cope through such times)... I now fear the 2011 plan that we both agreed on is in jeopardy. 'What questions do you have about life goals?' I don't know how you manage in this place so far from your homeland. Its been 3 years since I was in a comparable area. It really spoke to my soul. But the feeling has drained away like your morning piss in that dreadful patch of dirt they make you go in. 'What questions do you have about getting it back?' It doesn't seem productive to reminisce like this, but when its this fricking cold what else is there. I know I know peanut butter chewies and super sub.... Well I hope things are well with you and lets both hope spring comes soon!
Dear Uncle Matt,
I have endured many hardships this winter. It is so cold my teeth hurt upon walking outside. Snow that blows in my eyeballs and other random openings on my body, and a fur coat that is not nearly thick enough to keep me warm.
Besides all the work and weight issues, it is just a lack of meaning that I feel enveloped in. My life revolves around food, or lack thereof. I need to figure out what it is, the missing link. I want to find more purpose, I want to make a real difference. I awake every day to eat, then sleep, then eat again. Not just me Uncle Matt, we all do. Until we find some purpose, we are all just sleeping.
I must now work on my novel, yes I have been having writers block. How do you find inspiration in this frozen hell?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Dead Salty Winter
Russian Christmas has now passed. (The Russians have a tradition of celebrating Christmas weeks after we already suffered through it once this year by consuming mass amounts of cabbage and celebrating loud farts afterwards).
The frigid temperature of January has settled in. My paws now ache every time I walk. Thick layers of ice cover the frozen ground, and landlords refuse to do anything about in Logan Square. God forbid the city provides any services for its residents. The only benefit received from the horrid conditions outside is the joy I get from licking the salt of my furry paws. This salt is used to melt the ice on roads and sidewalks, and it gets stuck deep in the crevices of my toes. I am almost 100% certain the chemicals in this salt will lead to cancer of the testicles, and then I remember that I do not have those, courtesy of My demonic Master. I look forward to coming home to my toasty apartment, despite our less than classy neighbors and the constant beeping of horns as people treat our alleyways like freeways.
I have been working beyond my usual hours. I work from home most of the time. I work at my leisure so I can enjoy the occasional peanut butter chewy or a nap in the sun. New investments from China have forced me to go to the office and train new workers; this has been a pain, but in the long run the monetary awards will reap vast benefits.
I still struggle with my time in the shackles of the CTA. Snobby women with overpriced accessories sitting on the outside seat, homeless men overwhelming my sense of smell reeking of alcohol at nine in the morning, gross men spread eagle while I am scrunched in the inside of the seat as they snore away. I must say, I am a small creature, but I feel like the CTA takes away every bit of my personal space and dignity.
The New Year has presented me with many challenges, like that of losing my holiday weight. The cross fit training so far is okay, but I have not been going enough. I switched to light food, but I can still feel the fat on my stomach jiggle as a trot about.
I long for warm days spent carelessly.
The frigid temperature of January has settled in. My paws now ache every time I walk. Thick layers of ice cover the frozen ground, and landlords refuse to do anything about in Logan Square. God forbid the city provides any services for its residents. The only benefit received from the horrid conditions outside is the joy I get from licking the salt of my furry paws. This salt is used to melt the ice on roads and sidewalks, and it gets stuck deep in the crevices of my toes. I am almost 100% certain the chemicals in this salt will lead to cancer of the testicles, and then I remember that I do not have those, courtesy of My demonic Master. I look forward to coming home to my toasty apartment, despite our less than classy neighbors and the constant beeping of horns as people treat our alleyways like freeways.
I have been working beyond my usual hours. I work from home most of the time. I work at my leisure so I can enjoy the occasional peanut butter chewy or a nap in the sun. New investments from China have forced me to go to the office and train new workers; this has been a pain, but in the long run the monetary awards will reap vast benefits.
I still struggle with my time in the shackles of the CTA. Snobby women with overpriced accessories sitting on the outside seat, homeless men overwhelming my sense of smell reeking of alcohol at nine in the morning, gross men spread eagle while I am scrunched in the inside of the seat as they snore away. I must say, I am a small creature, but I feel like the CTA takes away every bit of my personal space and dignity.
The New Year has presented me with many challenges, like that of losing my holiday weight. The cross fit training so far is okay, but I have not been going enough. I switched to light food, but I can still feel the fat on my stomach jiggle as a trot about.
I long for warm days spent carelessly.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The New Year's Eve
This holiday has always been among my most favorite. No other human holiday provides an equal opportunity for debauchery and reflection. Since I relish both in nearly equal proportions, I'm quite a happy camper come December 31st. In fact, the entire week between their Christmas holiday and New Year's Eve are quite enjoyable.
The week began at my Uncle Matt's house in Milwaukee. My uncle Mike was there too, it was lovely.
Friday began with a lovely breakfast courtesy of My Master and Nemesis; My Nemesis, in a rare moment of brilliance (His only? It's debatable.), stumbled upon this lovely thick bacon from a place a few of my cousins work at, although not the Logan Square location he frequents. If only he knew I could get that bacon for free. Ah, the dog's life, when you're an international man of mystery in a dog suit.
The evening started about 6pm at My Master's house. We all met and started drinking a bottle of Cook's champagne. Now, I realize that none of the people assembled have a tongue for champagne like mine, I seriously doubt any have ever even tasted a nonvintage Dom. God. So Cook's it was. I was lucky enough to only be offered a tiny dribble, even that was plenty enough to remind me of just how cheap and terrible champagne can be. Don't let my size or glossy coat fool you, I've toured the Champagne-Ardenne region extensively, and still have a case of vintage 88 I bought from a local vinter. This celebration didn't nearly warrant such a treat.
We went to a local taqueria right around the corner for dinner, Zacatecas. I must laud My Nemesis for his constant obsession with taquerias is right on point. My roommate Nathan was properly named Jesus, which gives me full rights to continue my role as Judas.
After everyone left me, I snorted ounces of cocaine at a party with hundreds of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. I crawled back home in the early hours. I slept for two days after.
I now need to concentrate on my New Years Resolutions. I see big things happening in 2011.
The week began at my Uncle Matt's house in Milwaukee. My uncle Mike was there too, it was lovely.
Friday began with a lovely breakfast courtesy of My Master and Nemesis; My Nemesis, in a rare moment of brilliance (His only? It's debatable.), stumbled upon this lovely thick bacon from a place a few of my cousins work at, although not the Logan Square location he frequents. If only he knew I could get that bacon for free. Ah, the dog's life, when you're an international man of mystery in a dog suit.
The evening started about 6pm at My Master's house. We all met and started drinking a bottle of Cook's champagne. Now, I realize that none of the people assembled have a tongue for champagne like mine, I seriously doubt any have ever even tasted a nonvintage Dom. God. So Cook's it was. I was lucky enough to only be offered a tiny dribble, even that was plenty enough to remind me of just how cheap and terrible champagne can be. Don't let my size or glossy coat fool you, I've toured the Champagne-Ardenne region extensively, and still have a case of vintage 88 I bought from a local vinter. This celebration didn't nearly warrant such a treat.
We went to a local taqueria right around the corner for dinner, Zacatecas. I must laud My Nemesis for his constant obsession with taquerias is right on point. My roommate Nathan was properly named Jesus, which gives me full rights to continue my role as Judas.
After everyone left me, I snorted ounces of cocaine at a party with hundreds of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. I crawled back home in the early hours. I slept for two days after.
I now need to concentrate on my New Years Resolutions. I see big things happening in 2011.
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