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 It's getting around that time of year again, when the holiday season starts to begin and people go into a rabid frenzy of buying all their consumer products that society has convinced us that we would be simply lost without. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't actually enjoy it, simply due to the fact that it gives me more to do at work. If I'm at work I have to be doing something, I'm horrible at this whole 'standing around and acting like I'm working even though I'm not' thing. The constant preoccupation with work and being tired after a long shift really tones down my feelings of restlessness, not to mention the weather, traveling around in the cold and sleeping in a car trying to get warm isn't exactly the most comfortable thing. Though I'm yet to turn to the heat on in my room, so there really isn't much of a difference I suppose.
The other week after he got back from his camping trip in Tenesse, Brian started to pitch this "traveling solely by foot" trip adventure. It was this proposal that made me realize how different the two of us really are. When I think of traveling by foot, I think hitch-hiking, walking through random towns, train car hopping, along with the occasional riding of a "borrowed" bicycle; basically going anywhere and everywhere in the country and possibly up to Canada for a bit. I had this random vision of hopping fences and going to find Beast, telling her to pack everything she needs into a backpack so that we could go run around like the hobos we've always been, going around and forming a band of hobos running aimlessly until no one could run any longer. Brian's idea was of hiking the Applachian trail. See, not on the same page at all. If I do go running off again, it's not going to be on some 42 day adventure, it's going to be for years, years and more years.
I finally got Pancakes to my house a few weeks ago, I bought chicken wire and made her a little chicken run and everything. She would take a liking to flying out however and sitting in the bushes by the fence and pecking around until I came back outside to put her back in her run. One morning my 15 year-old arithritic, deaf, missing half of his teeth, no larger than a full grown-cat, dog Sam killed her when I let him outside to pee. I walked outside when he wouldn't come in and asked him "Sam, why are you eating leafs?... Shit those aren't leafs, they're feathers!" He ate the entire top half of Pancakes and one of her wings. I don't what was worse having to bury half a chicken or the fact that Sam started throwing her up later, feathers, skull and all. Dot died yesterday, Brian said his dog got her, I think she froze to death and he was just borrowing my story to look better. Either way, after having a pet chicken and bonding with her, seeing how they have their own personalities and will become attached to you, getting excited when you come out into the backyard to play with them; I'm more certain than ever that I'm most likely never going to eat meat again as long as I live, it's been almost a year now since I have eaten any. I still eat fish, but not that often.
My sister moved back home. Her and her fiance broke-up, it just goes to show you, when you realize that things don't work with someone you're with anymore, you should always just get out, it's never too late to start over.
I look forward to drinking Silk-Nog and rum in the very near furture and drinking a lot while sitting in the back of the truck while going to see the festival of lights. I'm not sure how I feel about celebrating the holidays, I'll miss the simplicity of jamming a live tree into a ten gallon bucket and trying to make it not follow over, whilist Vee tops it with a paper bag with a drawn on star that says "you tried". Though it's around the time of year when I want to leave the house before sunrise on a day off, go to that abandoned part of beach and watch the sunrise or walk around abandoned places and cemetaries at night.