jimmy

After my epic 4,100-mile road trip in six days, I woke up this morning at a sort of normal time: 8 am. I’ve been waking up very early lately, that’s it’s just obscene. My younger self would be completely disappointed with my current self.

Today was spent just lazing around watching some football and doing nothing. The thought of having to go back to work on Tuesday is depressing. It makes me wonder if there are some drugs I can procure to make me forget about things for a bit.

And speaking of things I want to forget for a bit, at around 10 pm last night I got this text message from a family member:

“First of all ur X-mas card is 7 days late. And u have a job and making money and it’s just a card? No gift card anything like that! U cheap “blank”!”

I guess this is one less family member I need to care for anymore. Happy 2017.

Here I am in Baton Rouge again! As freaky as it sounds, there is something familiar about the place each time I come back. I got in at around 5:30, so when I go back up to Zachary and Jackson tomorrow we’ll see how things really are.

One thing on my drive from Abilene, TX got me so worked up that I had to call Catherine lest I forget about it. (And I damn near almost did.) Take a look at the photograph below:

This was taken just around Tyler, TX on the I-20, just about 60 miles from the Texas-Louisiana border. We had hit a very brief but very hard downpour a few miles before this. And I should note that most people in my vicinity did not turn on their headlights making it very difficult to see their cars.

Anyhow after we drove past that, we soon got stuck in this traffic. Multiple times! In this first one, a truck had driven off the side of the road and needed to be pulled back onto the interstate. On another, two cars collided sending one to go head first into a speed limit sign upside down.

The more I was stuck in this traffic, the more I stewed and stewed. Sure, Los Angeles gets a bit clogged when it rains. And we native Angelenos have to hear it from the cocksucking out-of-towners about how great they fucking drive in the rain.

Now here I am in a part of the country where they get a lot of rain, certainly more than in Los Angeles. Yet I don’t see any of these drivers any better than my fellow Angelenos.

So to all you smug assholes who bitch about LA drivers in the rain: FUCK YOU. YOU SILLY PUTAS ARE JUST AS BAD IN YOUR OWN FUCKING HOMETOWNS.

Anyways, here are some more pictures. One of the things I was looking forward to was stopping at a Buc-ee’s while in Texas. Imagine part truck stop, part megastore, part fast food joint.

Here is more of Baton Rouge. Here’s the old State Capitol building which was set on fire during the Civil War:

While the planning of this particular road trip was a bit complicated since it’s winter and things like snow and ice become a factor, so far everything has been very smooth. Despite the image you see above. Yes, that’s snow. This was taken at the Texas Canyon rest area about 60 miles outside of Tucson, Arizona.

Yes. South Arizona. Snow. I-10.

Actually it wasn’t all that bad. Since the air temp was hovering around freezing, there was no ice on the road. And when I stepped outside to take the picture, it wasn’t terribly cold since I was only wearing a hoodie over my t-shirt and jeans. And a little bit down the way I was caught up in some light snow flurries.

When I planned this trip, I made my first stop in Tucson since I knew a storm was going to blow through. Ideally I would have made my first stop to be in Las Cruces, NM or something further, but there was no way I wanted to drive through a snow storm especially at night. By the looks of it, it was a good thing I did that.

Besides the snow, the one thing that worried me about driving on Christmas Day was how many things would be open. Fortunately the truck stops like Love’s and Flying J’s were all open, so that was much ado about nothing. They are also nice to break up the monotony of the Texas flatlands.

Some random thoughts:

There is obviously something wrong with me since not only was I looking forward to taking a train out to Riverside this past Saturday, I actually enjoyed myself in Riverside.

A few weeks ago, I saw that Metrolink was having a $7 roundtrip special from Union Station to Downtown Riverside for the city’s Festival of Lights. Madd and I decided to head out there especially since we wanted to see Christmas lights. And who doesn’t love a festival?

When we got to Union Station, it seems that a lot of people also had the same idea we had because the platform was packed. A couple of stops in it became standing-room only. So we made a note of getting back to the station a little early to make sure we had seats coming home.

The Festival of Lights was actually better than I had anticipated. As a city boy, I always pictured Riverside as a little po-dunk town filled with tumbleweeds and meth labs ready to explode on command. Hell it could be that because we were in the heart of Downtown, the sun had gone down and the Christmas lights were very enchanting. It was all very pretty.

We had dinner at a speakeasy-themed restaurant called ProAbition (get it? MWA!) and rode a horse-drawn carriage through the streets to see the light display the Mission Inn had created.

My one real complaint was how crowded things were. After the carriage ride, Madd and I wanted to walk through and see the lights a little more up close. Maybe get a churro, a funnel cake, whatever. But it was so packed that there were points where we were stuck. It didn’t help that a couple wanted to show off their heterosexual unnatural love to the world right in the middle of a sidewalk.

We tired of it all and headed back to the station. I made it home by around midnight. Actually a little past that since there was police activity that shut down the freeway right at my exit to the Manse. But it was a pretty enjoyable day.

And that is the problem. It’s fucking Riverside. I’m not supposed to enjoy it. One does not go to Riverside and say things like, “Oh, that’s enthralling,” or, “I could see living here.” NO! Like I said, I was in a low-light situation and was a little over-stimulated from being around human beings.

I guess it could be worse. We could have been in Fresno and saying the same things. Oh, heaven forbid!

Fuck! Goddamnit. I had a dream about The Grandmother last night. I really thought after almost five months since her death and three months since my last dream about her I wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.

This dream takes place during that week after her initial emergency room visit and before the final emergency room visit when we placed her in a nursing home. She’s sleeping on her “bed” in the living room and tries to get up to use the bathroom. Unlike real life, she could actually turn over without assistance and get into a crawling position. Like real life, however, she wasn’t able to stand up or walk unassisted. Also, most importantly, she wasn’t wearing a diaper for whatever reason.

I’m in the dining area talking with a lady — a neighbor, a case worker, I don’t know — and I see The Grandmother struggling. I sense her urgency, so I go to try and help her get up quickly. But she’s struggling and flailing and stumbling about. It’s a really sad scene, and I’m there trying to help her, crouching down to try and make it easier for her to stand up. In the process of this struggle, she’s crying and screaming out that she’s going to piss. I’m mentally screaming out wondering why we gave in to The Grandmother’s request to keep her out of diapers all the while struggling to maintain control of the situation. The lady is just watching all of this happen without even trying to help.

And scene.

What I remember from that week The Grandmother was immobile at home was how exhausting it was physically and emotionally. I had no control, and I really wanted to crumble. I couldn’t, and I knew I couldn’t. So there I was until the final day when I looked at her face frozen in death’s grimace and started bawling.

I don’t know what brought on this dream. Perhaps it was from talking to a neighbor the other night. She helped me bring The Grandmother upstairs into the apartment before the first emergency room visit. I guess talking with her brought up some of these emotions. Or maybe it was seeing the president of Korea being impeached.

I just hope this isn’t a regular occurrence.

I never thought I would ever purchase SPAM. I never believed I would ever EVER willingly purchase this meat-ish I-have-no-idea-what-to-categorize-it.

But there I was out on Saturday with Catherine and company at the Pasadena Souplantation and then walking around Lake Ave. Then it hit me: I WANT KIMCHI FRIED RICE!!! WITH SPAM!!!!!! I went grocery shopping after leaving Pasadena, and in the canned meats section there I picked up a can of SPAM. I still can’t believe it.

On Sunday, I did make the kimchi fried rice with SPAM. And I made it again last night. I think SPAM just might become a semi-regular ingredient for me.

How did this happen? Is it because of I’m around Koreans all the time? Well, at least I’m not drinking instant coffee. Yet. Or going to church.

I would say this job has officially started to mess with my mind. I have never really cooked Korean food before besides the processed stuff that would come in packages.

On Thanksgiving night I was looking for a recipe for Army Base stew (Bu Dae Jji Gae -부대찌개), a Korean dish that features hot dogs, Spam, meats, kimchi, noodles and other assorted good things. I then got sucked into Maangchi’s YouTube channel, a 40-something Korean lady in New York City who cooks Korean food. Recipe after recipe after recipe I watched in a trance, drooling despite having just had Thanksgiving dinner mere hours ago.

So last night I decided to make one of my favorite childhood dishes that I would only get when we went to a Korean-style Chinese restaurant: Fried chicken in a sweet and spicy garlic sauce (Kkan Poong Chicken – 깐풍 Chicken.) That involved going to the Korean market and buying ingredients for that and other dishes that I want to cook. The checkout clerk thought it funny that a non-Korean would be buying cellophane noodles, rice syrup, potato starch, fermented soy bean paste and other Korean staples.

Anyhow I made my beloved 깐풍기, and it actually came out pretty well. I would probably add more veggies and sauce and made it spicier, but it ended up tasting pretty good. I’ll make some Japchae 잡채 this weekend.

I’m blaming all of this on working at a Korean company. Yes. It’s their fault.

I am one of the unfortunate souls who had to come into work the Friday after Thanksgiving. This is the very first time in my 37 years that I had to work on this day. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I had to cover a game or cover a Santa Anita meet once? Hm.

Well, let me take that back. This is the first time in my 37 years that I had to work at a job that I’m not terribly happy to be at on the day after Thanksgiving. Yeah, that sounds more accurate.

All this means is that I did not wake up this morning, immediately turn on Netflix and binge-watch the Gilmore Girls right as I was getting my coffee started. I will have to wait until I leave work, go to the grocery store and cook dinner and other mundanities before I can properly settle down (jeez, just reading that sentence makes me realize how boring this job makes me and now I want to commit suicide.)

I still have an uneasy feeling about the series, however. I don’t want it to go down into the fetid pit of underwhelming codas that most of the other reboots have suffered. I’m looking at you Arrested Development.

• People close to me in my life (family members who have not yet disowned me, friends who are not completely embarrassed by me.)
• Having a job albeit one with not the best pay or the best benefits, but a job nonetheless.
• Artists, writers and musicians who made this year just a tiny bit more bearable for me. It’s really been a shitty fucking year.
• The impending apocalypse thanks to our incoming President.

I honestly don’t know what the proper response to these times are. We see Trump appointing what polite company are calling “alt-right” but what we all know are Nazi cunts to his cabinet. And groups of these small white men are feeling empowered to reveal their racist selves and perform their Nazi salutes and greetings. It’s pretty fucking scary, even for me who can compartmentalize things with the best of them.

Other than what seeps into my consciousness from social media, I really do try and avoid all news about Trump. On Sunday I was watching the local news so I can see just how bad it was raining in other parts of LA. When they opened the hour with news of the Trump transition meetings, I changed channels.

I can’t take it. I know right after the election I was holding out a strand of hope that Trump would not be a complete cuntface, but it seems that he can’t help himself.

So here is me still ignoring things. On a lighter note, the new Gilmore Girls episodes will be released on Friday.