Sanitary Salutation

Things I did today:
Worked on an empty stomach (never a good idea);
Cleaned the shower...while taking a shower (pretty much the best idea I've ever had...possibly)
Went to see the new Bond movie (this falls somewhere in the "meh" category. Going to see movies in theaters are things that Goraxypox and I do on occasion and it's nice to relax and all that. So, in that sense, it was worth it. On the other hand, the movie had a number of...failings...so there's that)

I still think I've revolutionized shower cleaning. Now you will all have to try it because, let's be honest, who hasn't tried brushing your teeth in the shower. How about those of you who have brought a beer into the shower to drink and shower? Maybe, in college perhaps, you wore some clothes into the shower and washed them as you washed yourself. Well, now you have one more thing to try!

Ummm....well, I guess if you aren't a fan of closing the door, it's easier to just not have one?

At any rate, it's wet and cold and almost wintery with a hint of thanksgiving so I hope you all (as if more than a handful of people actually read this...) find family to spend the holidays with. They won't be with you forever, so cherish them now.

~TPP

Dear Self, Please Smile More

I realize that my blog used to be cool and exciting to read...and now it just sounds like I'm a 14-year old struggling with teenage angst. Thus, in an attempt to "get back to my roots," I present to you: Pearls Before Swine.

Pearls Before Swine - Stephan Pastis, 28 October 2012

It made me laugh, softly to myself. I need to laugh more, I think. Life is too serious these days.


Live, Laugh, and Love and enjoy the coming of winter.
~The Piebald Penguin

Affirming affection
through silent tears

Boom!

There's something majestic about a ship like this. Looked for copyright info but couldn't find it

Apparently Star Trek ships are also called ships of the line. So, a lot of Star Trek stuff popped up when I was looking for pictures. The nerd in me couldn't pass the opportunity up. copyright Gregory Stewart experimation.com

When I say there's something majestic about a ship of the line, I mean to say that it is so beautiful on the water, yet so dangerous in war. Majesty then is grace and power, yes? On another note, can you imagine the sheer terror that could be produced by one broadside? The ship on the right in the foreground is the HMS Victory. A rather well-known British 1st-rate battleship. Ships of this variety were armed with anywhere from 90 to 120 heavy cannons. The lightest of these cannons fired 18-pound lead and iron projectiles. Even assuming that a 1st-rate ship had nothing heavier (the bulk of their armament would most likely be 32-pounders), that would mean that when one broadside was fired (about half of the ship's guns, so let's say 50 guns at once), there would be a flying wall of 10,000 pounds of metal jettisoned from the side of the ship. Wow.

Ummm...got a bit carried away with the captions...sorry
~Piebald
Wasting away in a deluge.
Feeling the need to indulge honesty,
but fear keeps me quiet.

Avast Ye Scalliwags!

Arrrrrgggghhhhhhh!!!!!

  

“Pirate Ship” © Leonardo Amora Leite

The story goes like this...I wanted to scream, so I made a blog post. I disguised my shout of frustration as a clever homage to the pirates of old. Then, I went in search of "pirate" pictures to complete the post, but I got carried away looking at pictures of ships. I don't believe any of these pictures are by the same person. I found a copyright for the last one, although that is not to say that the rest of these pictures don't have/deserve copyright credit. I like to give credit to people who spend any amount of time doing something.

As an aside, I was carried away by the beauty of a wooden ship with sails, floating on the roiling ocean. It makes me sigh and get all dreamy in the eyes. I know, I know. You don't need to know that, but now you do! Ha! So...yeah, that's all today.

~TPP

Puzzles

The unfinished puzzle on the flattened cardboard box resting on the floor. Netflix. Two white shirts, one has a hole in it. I can't wear it to work anymore, but I'm reluctant to throw it away because then two would be one. A green and brown Lego set. Flowers, dead and dried. A bottle of vitamin C, chapstick, no calorie soda, and a box of Christmas decorations.

I wish and I hope, does it matter? Does any of it matter? I've been meaning to blog for a while now (yes, yes, I promise to blog more basically every other post...it's not my fault....). I mean, really blog. Like, the other night, I was awake in the small hours of the night (what's new?), and I half-dreamed/half-planned three or four different posts. One would be funny, one would be educational, one would be serious, and one would be crazy. Maybe some math, definitely some comics, possibly some history or a good story from my life. Instead, I tossed and turned in my bed for two hours, passed out, then woke up and played computer games for about 12 hours (possibly more). This post, for better or worse, is going to be about everything. All of it. Every last shred of my sanity is henceforth poured into these digital letters. Because if there's anything that I've learned over the last couple years, it's this: when you feel your life slipping out of your grasp, sometimes it's better to let go. So...onward! To glory! I'll follow myself down the rabbit hole of insanity.

I had a table of interest today. Three ladies, not young yet not on their deathbeds either...well, perhaps they were. I try not to judge people who I serve, as a general rule, so please don't take it that way. They are allowed to live however they choose...but seriously...6 glasses of peach tea is...uh...a lot. And I think the other lady put at nearly twenty packets of regular sugar into her iced tea. That makes it sweet tea, right? She didn't have a Southern accent, but maybe she still developed a fondness for the drink.

She's a rose

Oh, I didn't tell all my readers that The Piebald Penguin turned 24 a few days ago (...ok a few weeks...I'm really behind). So yeah. That's a thing. I made my own cake, bought my own alcohol...and then spent time with the people I wanted to spend it with. I don't really like my birthday. I don't think it's supposed to be complicated and all that...but...well...hey, if I'm involved it's probably going to be way more complicated than it needs to be, right? Oh well.

Life should be an adventure. I read all kinds of stories. Characters in books always get to go on adventures. I think I need a vacation. I know that I know how to do a vacation properly. People tell me that they are for relaxing. For sleeping and resting and sitting. But I relax by doing things. I find peace in a plan that works out. When I fit all the pieces of the puzzle together just so. And I get to see people, go places, do things. Vacation. Yeah. No. Work, always work. The thing I can't get away from. Maybe in a few years. I'll pay off my student loans and be able to save for a year and then I can just quit it all and go somewhere. I think that's what I want to do. Buy a camera (and some new pens! I need pens desperately. It makes me sad. Maybe my christmas present to me), pack a bag, and take hulk jr somewhere he's never been before. We'll explore it together. On that note, maybe I'll find that unicorns are real, and there are pots of gold at the end of every rainbow. Sigh.

I've been told that I just need to have confidence in myself. Newsflash: I don't.

~The Piebald Penguin

Classifying Is a Pain

I decided to quit my job at the restaurant...well...I think I decided that. I'm wavering right now. I handed my manager the letter that said I would be quitting in two weeks. That was a week ago. And I was sure then. But now...now I wonder if perhaps I should just not quit. I'm good at my job, I make money, and...well, I feel like I deserve to work in the hostile environment that is fostered by my manipulative manager. Almost like penance, if you will. That seems silly and ridiculous to admit out loud, but I think it's how I legitimately feel about it. Oh, we finally ran out of dishwasher soap. I don't know how long it takes normal people to go through a box, but ours lasted for...uh....9 months. 9 months. Hmmm...There are interesting correlations attached to that number (btw, I'm trying to type with my keyboard perched on my legs, but it isn't working very well...anywho...)

I'm tired, so very tired. I try not to show it, but I feel it. I hide behind caffeine and willpower, and sometimes I even manage to hide it from myself, for a little while at least. But then the night drags on, and my thoughts turn again to the state of my mind and body. I'm tired of not knowing what's right and wrong. Tired of the war inside me. Tired of feeling like I'm always losing. Tired of not knowing what I want. Tired of lacking direction. Tired tired tire...too tired. Tired of not being able to sleep tired of waking up feeling guilty for having slept. I could drag this list out. If I wanted too. I'm sure I could think of plenty more things that I'm tired of. But, for the sake of your sanity, I will cease. Or perhaps I'm already tired of typing.

~Tpp
I don't think there will be a picture tonight

Flashing Lights and Uniforms

Oh hello Mr. Police Officer! Are we breaking the law? Causing a disturbance? In need of assistance? Oh, what's that? You don't know. You didn't find out. You just kept shining bright lights at our car. Please, grow a pair and use those words you learned in elementary school. If you don't want to go to the bother of getting out of your car, then leave us alone, please and thank you.

The best part about is, I still don't know if I was breaking the law or not. I know that I wasn't causing a disturbance. I'm almost positive he ran our plates. And then he shined his brights at us for a while. Maybe as a sign that he wanted us to leave. But we were just on the street...right across from my apartment...and we aren't under 18, so there's no curfew to worry about...who knows. The police officer finally drove off, and I waved at him. Because I am THAT guy. In truth, I like waving at police officers. And I like talking to them. I think it's important to know the men and women who keep our laws. And I think it is a great tragedy that our cities have grown so big that it is nearly impossible to know the lawmen. 

Sometimes, I dream that I live in a movie. You know, the ones where bad people come to kill a random person, and that person and their significant other run for their lives and are forced to live life on the run. Or the spy, who gets burned by his country, and has to change his identity and hide. Because I feel like I want to run...but I suppose my fear of letting people down keeps me rooted where I am. So, I need a really good reason to run. Like bad people coming to kill me. My family would understand then, right? It would be easy to explain to myself. Sigh. But, I can't run, can I? I wouldn't be me, if I ran. The Piebald Penguin looks at a police officer and waves, confident that he can talk his way out of anything. I wish it always worked out that way. Actually, I wish a lot of things. But perhaps those thoughts are best not shared with random internet viewers looking for pictures of teddy bears. 

Isn't he so cute and cuddly??

ha! Oh, alright...I'll give you a real teddy bear

See, I can't even do what I said I would do. There are clearly two bears here, but I quite distinctly used the singular form of the noun. Sigh. I always complicate things.

I'm listening to a song, over and over. "I just wanna run". And sometimes, I fool myself into believing that that's what I want. But it isn't. I don't want to run. I want to stop running. I want to catch my breath, to curl up in a warm corner and sleep, to feel and be safe. I don't want to run. I will fight. Tooth and nail. Fight for it all. I'll give up all that I consider to be me. I'm just tired of running. 

Perhaps another sleepless night in seattle
~Piebald

P.S. I must apologize for the long post. It has been a while since I have actually felt the need to write. tl;dr : Life is difficult.

P.P.S. I also apologize for the small font. I don't know why it is so small (Bet you haven't heard that before haha), but it shows up normally in the draft editor. So...yeah...sorry....