Ooey Gooey Mess, Yes!

You must check this out!
Disaster on a stick.
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Laughing Out Loud

Okay, took a bit longer than I said it would, but I’ve got a weeks worth of stuff to say, and I couldn’t wait any longer…
—–
Chomp! Aieee!
- Josie just bugged Mickey a little bit too much and he bit her, she screamed, like a girl, and then she asked me not to tell anyone about it.
- “What? That you screamed?”
- “Yeah, it was like the most girly thing ever.”
- I laughed and clicked ‘create post’
—–
Fire, Fired
- When I got to work Saturday they told me about the two fires they’d already had (and it was only 9:30am). One was the calling-in-sick-too-many-times kind of fire, and the other was the electrical-outlet-for-the-fryer kind of fire. I was given the task of cleaning up the mess and, well, I’ll just let the pictures and de-greaser speak for themselves…
(btw, the plug is a high voltage plug with four prongs, now it has two big holes instead)
—–
Late Night In Da ‘Hood
- Sunday night, against my better conscience, I went over to Steves for some gaming (I should have gone over to my bed for some sleeping). When be brought me home I got out of the car, reached for my backpack, and heard a sound that is not too common on the quiet, elementary school-lined street that we live on.
- Hard, heavy shifting and squealing tires.
- I looked left and watched a white Neon slide through the corner, turning down my street, headed away from my house. I looked up the street he’d come from and saw flashing lights through the trees.
- Instinct kicked in, and I ran. No, not away, I ran towards the intersection (Josie will tell you I’m always out to save the world). Backpack w/ laptop in, and wearing flip-flops, I ran down the street waving my arms wildly in the direction the Neon had gone. I knew that he had so great a lead on the cops that they had no idea where he’d gone. The first cop was in a Chevy Blazer and was past the intersection when he slammed on his brakes. Nose-diving and smoke rising from the tires, he backed up and drove over to meet me.
- “What’ca got?” he asked as he got out of the truck.
- “He turned right there” I managed after some confusion. The cop grabbed his radio and sent the others in pursuit. And I thought I lived in a quiet neighborhood! I hope they got him!
—–
Movies
- Two days, two movies. Batman Begins late last night, and War of the Worlds today. Both VERY good movies.
- Batman is told the way it should have been from the beginning, Katie Holmes is the weak link, but the chain does not break. Also I’ve discovered what I hope is a rising star in the actor who plays Scarecrow/Crane. Cillian (pronounced Killian) Murphy is fantastic and I really hope he goes places (and now I have to add all his movies to my list, even those dang scary ones.)
- War is a great thriller and a good retelling of a classic American tale.
- Go see ‘em.

Hello, is anyone there?

- If you’re anything like me, when a blog you read regularly becomes erratic, you begin to wonder what’s going on. Maybe she’s sick. Maybe he died. Maybe she gave up and quit. Maybe he’s busy.
- Well, I’m not sick, dead, or quitting, I’m just really busy. Last week I put in several hours of overtime. I went in Saturday and found that they’d fired another employee, so now we’re down two. I only had Friday off and have one more day still to go before I get any more time off. I can’t say how nice it will be to get the paychecks that will be coming. I want so badly to have a car again (If you’ve not lived without a car since you got your DL you should try it sometime, the world looks VERY different on foot.), and I am going to save every possible penny of the next few paychecks for it.
- I have had it easy the last ten months or so, working only part-time and not doing anything else to speak of. Now that I’m back to full-time I’m finding that my body-clock is completely out of whack. I’ve not been myself lately. It’s nothing big, I just need to adjust to it and then I’ll be OK. But one of the results of this mental jet-lag is that I’ve not written much. I feel terrible. I don’t really even care if there’s only one person that faithfully reads the Sunday Short, I know that I’ve let him down (and anyone else too). So, I guess what I’m trying to say is; don’t worry, I’ll be back.
- Also Giles and I are going to be working on a joint project that will be presented in blog form, and I will be spending some of my creative energies there. I’ll keep you up to date as things progress with what I will call (hehe, codenames, lol) The Cloud City Project.

I have an interesting story and some pictures to post tomorrow, come take a look…

– Gabe

Wednesday’s Words #1

- I wanted to kick this off with one of my earliest poetic memories. It was the fifth grade and we were required to memorize and recite a poem. I chose one that I swear was by Carl Sandburg, but I just checked and it turns out it’s by David McCord. I have never forgotten this poem, and I recite it to myself whenever I think about it.

——————–
This is my rock
- David McCord
———-
This is my rock
And here I run
To steal the secret of the sun.

This is my rock
And here come I
Before the night has swept the sky.

This is my rock
This is the place
I meet the evening face to face.
——————–

I like the simple, peaceful place this poem takes me to.
I enjoy the easy flow of the words and their rhymes.
I love the beauty and brevity, the posession and necessity.

——————–
An Ode to David McCord’s ‘This is my rock’
– Gabe Thexton
———-
This is my poem
And it I recite
While I lie in bed each night.

This is my poem
And it gives me joy
Reminding me of when I was a boy.

This is my poem
These are the lines
That give me peace in turbulent times.
——————–

Su-pearly White Stripes

Little ghost, little ghost
One I’m scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I’m the only one that sees you,
And I can’t do much to please you
And it’s not yet time to meet the lord above
-Little Ghost – Get Behind Me Satan – The White Stripes

Hehe, this is classic White Stripes in high form!

Off to work, hope to have something to talk about when I get home, what I don’t know yet, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled (gross).

Busy Busy Business

Four Things:

1) Randi quit today, we all saw this coming, this means part-timer me gets 40 hours this and next week. I am going to be exhausted and my bank account is going to be full. – Praise

2) Several weeks ago I submitted my “Management Interest” form. Today ‘The Boss’ got me a log-in, showed me some basics, and said something along the lines of, ‘I guess you need to know some of this stuff if I’m gonna fill out that form’. I am on the managent track at Kroger Corporation, finally. I have to prove myself, but I’ve been given the opportunity. – Praise

3) When a girl is married, there should be a law that says she must wear her ring at all times and may not ’show interest’ in men that are not her spouse. I will not be a home-wrecker, and to quote someone else “If they’ll cheat with you, they’ll cheat on you.” – Will Man EVER understand Woman?!

4) Dad borrowed ‘American Idiot’ and took it to work with him today. I get home tonight and he says: “I listened to the Green Day album today … I listened straight through two times in a row … that’s gonna be a classic album … I really liked it.” Blown away! Heck Yes! – Like one reviewer said, this just may be the ‘London Calling’ of this generation. If you haven’t listened to it I highly recommend it. [I also snagged 'Get behind me Satan' by the White Stripes when I was at Target tonight, it's been getting better reviews than 'X & Y' (Coldplay), and I can't wait to listen to it, I'll let ya know what I think]

Frustration and Work

- So I’m still pretty peeved at Blogger, and at myself. Blogger should have done better, and I should have known better. Having to start over on that very-fathers-day-appropriate Sunday Short story means I probably won’t write it for a long time, so frustrating.

- Boss just called and they need some help today, I’m going in, I don’t want to sit on my butt all day and I could use the extra cash (especially considering I missed a day and only got 13 hours last week)

words…

Spur of the moment
so sieze it
and the day too
carpe
the fish
if you get the joke
go now
immediamente
ahora mismo
this is the time
this is your life
you’ve got a chance so do it
try
try not
only do
do
or die
die on the sharp needles of cacti
in the high desert
like a cowboy seeking refuge
go
ride on
on the horse
go
use the spurs
spur the moment on.

NO NO NO, Spit it back out!

That’s the last time I ever trust blogger!
It just ate my whole Sunday Short.
Maybe you’ll get one Wednesday, if I’m over it by then.

Mad as a Hatter!

Slacking off

-So you’ve probably noticed that I’ve not posted in a while, it seems like the Sunday Short is the only thing I can get out. I’ve been doing a lot of reading like I said I would, I’ve been writing more. I’ve had success with the candy but failed miserably trying to stay away from my Diet Cokes.
-It’s very difficult to see the world as a place for others, but think about it, there are six (eight?) billion other people out there who need to be loved and cared for. Try and take the focus off of you for a minute, and hour, a day. I think the best example of this is when you’re in love, you don’t care about you, it’s all about them. How was her day? Does he need anything? That’s what it will look and feel like when we love God first and People next. Next time you’re at work and Joe Co-Worker passes by, don’t think about the perception you have of him, think about the perception he has of him. They say a smile goes a long way, and I believe this is a major indicator of loving others, have you made someone smile today? It’s hard but I’m trying.
UPDATE - read RLP’s relevant words at CC.

-NEW FEATURE!
-Next week I’ll be introducing a poetry spotlight on Wednesdays. I already send an email about the Sunday Short and will be adding one for Wednesdays, so if you’d like to be on either or both lists just send me a short or long email to typinghurts.,.at.,.gmail.,.dot.,.com

- peace

The Sunday Short Volume1 Issue 7

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My State Flower
- Gabe Thexton
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-It was an April Tuesday in Colorado with random cotton puffs drowning in the blue expanse of sky and the sun warming everything it touched. It was a regular day, and as a junior in High School, my major concern was getting out of classes early to go to the Rockies baseball game. Mom had come across a pair of club level tickets somehow, and she and I were going to make a date of it. After third period I ran out to the parking lot to meet Chris and Chad, hopped into the back of Chris’ truck and held on for dear life as we careened over the railroad tracks between school and his house.
-When we got to his house the lunch ritual began. Each of us dug through the contents of our brown paper bags. Often we played Nintendo, and on other days we’d surf the channels for something to watch. I grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. The first station was showing news of some kind. CLICK. Again I saw news. CLICK.
-“News again?!” I said. “Must be something important going on.”
-“What’s happening?” Chris called from the kitchen.
-“Not sure yet, go back to channel 9 Gabe.” Chad said to Chris and then me.
-I turned the TV back to 9 and we waited for the commercial to turn back to news. When the last Pepsi can faded from the screen we saw an aerial view of a building that looked only slightly familiar to me. I read the caption at the bottom of the screen out loud.
-“Shots fired at Columbine High School.”
-I’m not sure what I was thinking but I immediately said:
-“Why doesn’t anything cool ever happen at our school?”
-I think it was less than a second before I regretted it. Within a minute the three of us were glued to the TV, stunned to silence with the live coverage of a massacre.
-When we returned to school from our lunch break they had closed all entrances but the main one, there were several armed police officers at the door, and they informed us as we entered that we would not be leaving before school ended without a parental escort.
-My remaining two classes were spent in the dark staring at TV coverage. I left my Math class to meet my mom at the appropriate time. We drove to my Dad’s work in silence, listening to the radio. The Rockies game (and all other sports in Colorado for that matter) had been cancelled. We went to Old Chicago’s for dinner. We sat at our table and ate the worst, good-pizza I’ve ever had. At the time it was believed that up to two-hundred of my peers were dead. I couldn’t fathom that number. I couldn’t accept even one.
-As Columbine was merely twenty minutes drive south of my school, and in the same county, all the schools were closed on Wednesday and Thursday. We would learn that fifteen souls were lost that day. The dead were twelve of my peers, one teacher and two murderers who apparently turned on each other at the end. We would learn that they had planted propane bombs in the cafeteria which had failed to detonate (likely preventing the estimated toll of two-hundred). We would learn that they had planned on continuing their rampage through downtown Denver and on to the airport where they would hi-jack a plane and crash it into a building. We would learn to be thankful that none of those things happened.
-When we returned to school on Friday, things were different. The police guard remained, the limited access also, but the building felt disturbed. As we moved through the motions that day we learned that federal agents had swept the entire building. Vents and grates had been removed, the layers and layers of paint that had glued them to the wall were cracked and peeling, the grates lying on the floor. Some students said that their lockers had been run through. Some said that their hearts had been run through. Almost everyone I knew had a personal connection to someone at Columbine, a teacher who graduated from the school, the cheer squad who had competed against the Columbine team days earlier, a friend who knew Patrick Ireland (the young man who most of us watched jump from a second story window onto an ambulance… I am crying as I write this, it’s been a long time since I’ve cried about it.)
-One evening as my dad and I were watching TV, and they showed pictures of the victims for the first time, I said to him that one of the girls looked familiar to me. He dismissed it as me wanting to be connected in some way, something to justify the emotion. But I couldn’t shake the thought that I knew that girl, her name rattled around in my head almost non-stop.
-Months later, while I was cleaning my room, I discovered a Mothers’ Day project that I had made in second grade. It was a book of poems written by the students in my class. Each of us had written one and colored our copy for our mothers. As I paged through the poems one name caught my eye. Rachel Scott. I had a moment of simultaneous excitement and grief. I had finally discovered why that face was familiar to me. The memories came flooding back. Second grade, I think I remember something about her brother, I remember that I had a crush on her (it may have been my first), I remembered that face. I knew her. I was devastated for a second time.
-My grandparents remember Pearl Harbor.
-My parents remember the assassination of John F. Kennedy.
-I will remember the Berlin Wall Falling (early for me but I do remember it), the Gulf War, September 11th, and the ‘War on Terror’. And I will remember Tuesday, April 20th 1999, the day my state flower wilted.

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-There is a beautiful song that often pops into my head, it was written by two students in the days following the Columbine Massacre:

Friend of Mine
This song was printed in The Rocky Mountain News (4/26/1999).
©1999 Jonathan Cohen and Stephen Cohen and Andy Miller

Columbine, flower blue, tenderly I sing to you.
Columbine, roseblood red, heartbreak overflows my head.
Columbine, flower blue.
Columbine there’s hope for you.

Columbine, friend of mine.
Turn our pain, to your gain.
Keep your heart on the mark.
With your love, love again.
Comfort, peace and sweet release come from you.
Where it’s true, I hide myself in you.

Can you still hear raging guns ending dreams of precious ones?
In God’s son, hope will come, his red stain will take our pain.

Columbine, friend of mine.
Peace will come to you in time.
Columbine, friend of mine.
Turn our pain, to your gain.
Keep your heart on the mark.
Comfort us with your love.
Love again.
Christ of grace attend this place we look to you.
Honor you.
Fix you in our view.

Columbine, flower blue.
Tenderly I sing to you.
Columbine, roseblood red, heartbreak overflows my head.
Columbine, friend of mine.
Peace will come to you in time.
Columbine, friend of mine.
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CHS – Never Forgotten
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