Friday, February 29, 2008 | by nathan

Painted Glass Bottle at Ingrid’s

Thursday, February 28, 2008 | by nathan

The Girl I Slugged

I want to tell you about the one time in my life I’ve ever punched a girl in the mouth.

It’s actually not as bad as it sounds.

I went to sixth grade at Weatherford Middle School, where I was the shortest, smallest boy in school. I was picked on constantly, by teachers as well as students. People would always walk up to me and ask me, "What’s wrong with you? Why are you so short? What’s the matter with you? What’s wrong with you? Why are you so short?"

Like, what am I supposed to do - grow?

So that was my life, and it was miserable. I was that kid, you know the one - that small, sensitive kid who seems to have a target painted on him? Basically I was Milhouse Van Houten, though I didn’t really care about being liked; I really just wanted to be left alone. I never, ever got my wish.

One of the worst bullies I had was this girl named Kara. In high school Kara went on to be an All-American girls’ basketball player; where I was the shortest, smallest kid in school, she was one of the tallest, taller even than most of the boys. She had fiery red hair, aggressive freckles. You know who she looked like, actually? She looked like a female version of Scott Farkas from A Christmas Story. Which is fitting, considering what happened to him.

So one day I’m standing outside after eating my lunch, kind of huddled into a corner because then maybe no one would see me. Kara and her cronies - the girls who, six years later, would form a state championship girls’ basketball team - crowded around me and started shoving.

"Why are you so short? What’s wrong with you? What’s the matter with you? Why are you so short?"

"You think just because you’re taller than me that makes you better than me?" I spat angrily.

"Yeah."

No arguing with the logic of an angry, hormonal, gigantic, red-headed sixth-grade girl, I suppose. They kept shoving me, and poking me, and pulling my hair.

It should be mentioned here that my parents were well aware that I was being bullied at school, and they assured me that I was allowed to fight back, that, should the need arise, they’d go to bat for me, but that it was important that I learn to stick up for myself. I wouldn’t be in trouble at home if I fought back against a bully.

So, outnumbered six-to-one by the future girls’ ballers, I did just that: I fought back. I socked Kara right in the mouth, though she was so tall, and I so short, that my fist only kinda barely got her. I think I busted her lip, but that was probably about it.

It was all over within seconds; a teacher happened by just as the whole brawl started and broke it up. Problem was that it was a teacher who happened to hate me, who encouraged the other students in their mockery and bullying - yeah, she was a bitch, I have stories - and she carted me off to the counselor’s office, asking me how dare I hit a girl, we don’t do that, you’ll be suspended, how dare you hit a girl, that’s awful, you don’t hit girls.

She did not really have a response when I pointed out that the girl in question was a foot taller than me, and that there had been six of them. I had to call my mom at work and, sobbing, told her the whole story.

"Put the counselor on the phone," was all she said.

I was sent back to class with a tiny little lecture about fighting. The other kids didn’t leave me alone after that, not by any means, and after that year was over we moved. But no one ever said anything about it to me again.

It also bears mentioning that the week that this happened was the week that we were doing standardized testing, and that despite this incident I tested into the top 99th percentile nationally. Kara, as far as I know, had her moment of glory on the girls’ basketball team, but I have no idea if she went to college or what. At any rate, I hope there are no hard feelings.

Still, to this day, when I see that scene in A Christmas Story where Ralphie completely comes unspooled and starts wailing on Scott Farkas, I think about Kara, and I get a teeny bit riled up and start grinding my teeth together.

Thursday, February 28, 2008 | by nathan

A Man And His Dog

Wednesday, February 27, 2008 | by nathan

Oklahoma Sunset

From the parking lot of Brian’s dad’s gas station in southwestern Oklahoma. Only messed with in photoshop a teeny, tiny little bit; this is actually what our sunsets look like most of the time.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008 | by nathan

Help Me Out, You Lovely Opinionated People You

So we’ve narrowed down vacation ideas to two:

Do we go to Las Vegas on the weekend of Mar. 28-30 and see Margaret Cho with Ian Harvie at the Pearl at The Palms?

OR

Do we go to Dallas on the weekend of Mar. 14-16, stay at the Belmont Hotel and see The English Beat at the Granada Theater?

One’s more expensive than the other, but possibly more fun. The latter, however, involves the possibility that I might be able to talk a certain pair of ska-loving Texans to come visit DFW for a weekend (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE).

Tuesday, February 26, 2008 | by nathan

Cake at Ingrid’s Bakery

Other than my home and the houses of the people I love, Ingrid’s Kitchen has become my favorite place in my city. We dragged our buddies Jaye and Laurie there for brunch last weekend, which is where I got this photo of this absolutely stunning (and delicious) cake. I have nowhere near the skills to create something this beautiful, and I didn’t taste but a bite of it, because OH MY GOD THEY HAD CHOCOLATE CAKE IN A WARMING PAN! What? Chocolate cake? At 200 degrees? Let me just back up the truck.

Monday, February 25, 2008 | by nathan

Shitbox Update

I’d like you to meet The Garage. This is what looks out on my street from the house next door to mine; you know the one - The Shitbox? The day after I wrote that post about how much that house is driving me crazy, there were a whole bunch of contractors out replacing the windows, which have been one of the most consistently ugly parts of the whole structure. The best, most wonderful part was how they left their nails all over my yard and driveway, just like the roofers did.

Still, new windows are a step in the right direction. As I went to inspect them, however, I did notice that there also just happens to be a lawnmower in the breakfast nook. Here, check it out:

See that? What is that? That’s a really bad storage area.* The yard hasn’t actually been mowed, though I’m willing to let it go since it’s February and since there are probably nails all in the grass; there certainly are in mine. I’m going to have to rent a really powerful magnet before I do any mowing.

Today I got home and there was a tree crew cutting down fallen branches and stowing them IN MY FRONT YARD. I rectified the situation quickly in my broken Spanglish - I really do need to take a Spanish class - and then noticed after they’d gone that the branch that has fallen over the power line in back? Still there. Crack job you did, fellas.

Still, I’m not going to complain or call the owners, because work is getting done. I just sincerely hope that garage is high up on the list. It makes a good photo, but it’s not really doing anything to inflate the sagging housing market, now, is it?

*and no, I would never take photos through the windows of a house where someone actually lived, or, for that matter, that was capable of sustaining human life. This house fails on two counts and is therefore fair game.

Monday, February 25, 2008 | by nathan

Never Gonna Give You Up

Did you know that the Internet was invented at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN)? I found that out this weekend whilst reading this amazing article in National Geographic titled "The God Particle." Today CERN is home to one of the world’s largest particle accelerators, but I like to think that when they were inventing the Internet, this was exactly the kind of thing they had in mind:

Monday, February 25, 2008 | by nathan

Boris

Sunday, February 24, 2008 | by nathan

Vignette: The House Across The Street