the one with snowshoes

February 9, 2015

This was going to be a post about how happy I am with where I’m at in terms of my health and running. Then I saw the last real post (which was like a million years ago) was also about running. I though “am I really blogging about running Jimi now?” At least the post was funny.

Pants falling down always is.

AnyButtShowing the happy with my progress post will come another day. About this time last year I got serious about leading a healthier life. I had done yoga sporadically. I’d done DDP YOGA even more but it was in February last year I got serious. Serious and consistent. One of the other things I wanted to work on was being open to doing more things. As a poet and a playwright I like to be alone. It just comes with the territory. My problem was (is) that I’m often uncomfortable in situations and I let that dictate what I do.  The biggest problem I have with this is how it might hinder the wifebot’s fun. One of the things I love and admire about her is her willingness to put herself out there and try things.

This is not my style.

The point? I’m trying to do interesting things more often. I’m challenging myself more. Some ways are small (most of them are really). It’s why I’ve been a part of the Open Mic nights at Loganberry books for over a year now. It’s why when the wife wanted to go sledding this Florida raised dude went hurtling down a hill.

(On what is essentially just a trashcan lid)

I did this even though she suggested it to me after I had shoveled snow for an hour. The Shillelaghs like to make plans. There was a time where we would make a ton of plans and not really get through them all. Now? Now, the Shillelaghs destroy plans. We create and smash coffee tours. Lindsay creates seasonal bucket lists that we in turn attempt to help her crush.

<s>sledding</s>

Up next was snowshoeing (not officially placed on the list). Snowshoeing? Get the heck out of here with that. I mean I stumble around in snow all winter trying to get to the bus/work. Why would I or anyone want to? Right?

(Don’t be stupid!)
(Sorry I’ve not had breakfast today)

First the wifebot and I had to get our run in. It was technically week 7 day 3 of Couch to 5k. This called for a five minute warm up walk and then 25 straight minutes of running. I nailed it ending with 2 miles of running. Wait this isn’t about running!

(Damn you running!)

After a shower and a change we headed off to the winter sports center in the beautiful Cuyahoga Valley National Park. There we rented some snowshoes (only 5 bucks) and were shown how to wear and use them. We headed over to the Oak Hill Trail because it was a more moderate trail to do.  This was our first time and we speculated on who would be the first to fall.

There were no falls. The Shillelaghs win this round snow.  What was there?

Awesome conversations.

Pretty sights:

oakhilltrail

Poetic reflection:

poetsnoeshowing

 

And of course we stopped someone so we could have this (Lindsay’s photo):

shillelaghssnowshoeing

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the one with an island

August 25, 2014

The weekend has come and gone quickly once again. When one of the weekend days always involves being at work the weekend will go fast. Oh well. I was happy that we managed to get some DDP Yoga in on both nights. Sunday I was at work all day. It went pretty smooth and I met some first time visitors who were awesome.

Saturday was packed though. It was time for our yearly trip to Put In Bay. We started off with breakfast at Luna Bakery Café. This is where every roadie big or small starts. If you’re in Cleveland (and especially Cleveland Hts) get there. They are singlehandedly to blame for my recent obsession with making homemade granola. Then off to PIB and coming up with a name for it. Last year it was The Three Shillelaghs Naughty Nautical Adventures.

This year it was The Three Shillelaghs Naughty Nautical Adventures: The Second one. (Sharknado 2 reference bitches)

Amazingly and unplanned we ended up going on Commodore Perry’s birthday. OHP as we Shillelaghs (Kat, Linzi) call him. He is an honorary member of the Shillelaghs (along with NPH and Rivers Cuomo). We made it over to the island and stopped to get our golf cart.

(How else would we tool around the island?)

We were assigned Darth Vader. Everything was coming up Shillelaghs!

It was the SLOWEST cart ever….

There were musket demonstrations.
There was carronade firing demonstration:

photo (22)

 

It was awesome and loud. The wifebot managed to (mostly) get a video of it while she plugged her ears. Check that out here.

As if all that wasn’t cool enough: OHP was in the house.

OHP! Everything was definitely coming up Shillelaghs.

This guy:

photo 1

 

There was an actual person there playing the role of Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry. He was a Professor who researched/created a one man show. He was pretty awesome. I regret that we didn’t manage to get a picture with him.

How does that happen?

We headed up Perry’s Victory and International Peace Memorial. It sure is pretty up there. From there we can see all the islands the Shillelaghs own. I think this year we made it a goal to hang out on Starve (island) at some point.

Nothing could go wrong with that idea. Here is a photo of me trying out my poet’s gaze on the monument (Walden filter):

 

photo (23)

Looking pretty fit, no? And check out that rad beard.

Of course we had to head to Key West and get some fruity girly drinks. I had something called a bushwacker

(bow chikka bow wow)

Then a not so proud moment happened. As we walked to The Round House bar a woman face planted right in front of me. Now before I could even think to help her I swerved right around her and kept on going. What a gentlemen.  #JimiFail

(Yeah I used a hashtag.)

We ended up going to the Beer Barrel Saloon. Because if the shillelaghs are going to go to a bar it better be the longest bar. Here we (wifebot and I) had an Electric Lemonade Bucket. It looked like this:

photo 2 (1)

 

It was like blueberry vodka, blue Curaçao, lemonade, and something else. It was terrible.

 

TERRIBLE.

 

I’ll sum up the trip with some more photos.

 

photo 1 (2)

photo 3

photo 2

 

Hope you’re weekend was fun.

 


the one with fests

August 18, 2014

Today is Monday. I don’t hate Monday’s but that’s probably because it is essentially a weekend day for me. The thing that sucks for me is the wife is stuck at work so it’s a missed opportunity

For sexy time

The danger in Monday is if it isn’t productive writing wise it sours rather quickly. This weekend sped by helped by the fact that I worked both Saturday and Sunday. I apparently hate having a weekend. It was a weekend packed with booze, friends, working and fest.

Friday (after a 12 hour day!) we finally made it back to Parnell’s. Life got in the way and we missed our friends there. We also missed their perfect pours. We were there to send off a coworker. The Uinta SUM’R Ale is delicious.  If you are in Cleveland Hts or Downtown stop at one of them.

Drink and be merry.

Saturday I worked (covering for a friend) and it was busy. From there we headed over to the Romanian Fest at St. Mary’s. It had been too long since I had seen Rizza. We drank all manner of beers (Romanian, Croatian and Slovakian) I took only one picture:

 

america

 

That is Kevin pointing his inflatable American Flag Gun at me. He essentially paid five dollars for it. There were booths with carnival games set up. To win it he had to play two games (five bucks) and literally just put this giant ball in a giant basket. He had to throw it but you stood right next to it.

What is more Romanian than an inflatable American Flag gun?

We listened to traditional Romanian music. Like whatever that selfie song was. We watched older woman go to town in a dance circle that kept encroaching our talking area. We thought about starting a competing circle but didn’t. There were plenty of full track suits there and in the bathroom some old guy said something to me in a language I don’t know and shook my hand.

I’m probably a made man in the Romanian mafia now.

The beer was tasty but I forgot to try a pastry. Back at Rizza’s there were shenanigans and fireball whisky shots. The next day I had to work but had no coffee.

NONE.

It was terrible.

After work on Sunday the Three Shillelagh’s walked over to Little Italy for the Feast of the Assumption. I was a mess after 6 straight days of work and 36 hours of standing over 4 days. I was in not the greatest of moods but hopefully the other shillelaghs enjoyed the feast.

I hope to do it all again next year.

Well except the working both Saturday and Sunday.

And no coffee thing.


the one where I don’t talk about oral over dinner

July 24, 2013

It’s hard out there for a pimp, I mean poet. Okay, not really (besides the whole no money part of it.) I’m currently working on finishing up a book of poetry. A self published book of poetry. It’s probably a lot easier (the self publishing part that is) than I feel like it is or am making it.

So-Dumb

I’m working hard on that. I’m waiting on the wifebot to draw me something for the cover. Go shame her on her blog or Twitter about it. The staff art show is coming up, and I’m probably going to do a reading for the opening reception. I wasn’t sure about it, but more than a few coworkers have asked me if I was and expressed seemingly genuine happiness with my deciding to do it.

They like me. They really like me!

So I’m trying to scrounge up some poems to be read and hope to have the book ready so I can be all “buy this bitches!” Well, minus the bitches part or at the very least the exclamation point. Also I’m trying to get my shit together and work with local galleries to put together some readings and etc.

So there is some weird stuff happening in my head.

(Yeah, yeah, what else is new?)

Most of the stories I see in my head, I see as a play—on stage—or they bounce together as a poem. Lately though I’ve seen more of these flashes manifesting themselves on canvas or similar. I’ve been getting the urge to do some mixed media collage type pieces, and I know they will suck and is probably lame to try but what the heck. I’ve told myself that I’m going to stop telling myself no and just do things. I got some cool stuff cooking for here too—like movie review haikus—but that’s coming soon.

The Ohio Blogging Association has many a Cleveland meet ups, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to attend them. I was happy to see that I could attend July’s. This time it was at Tremont Farmers’ Market. Despite some storms and hail, the day cleared up in time for us to walk and peruse the market.

There were all sorts of bread, veggies and awesome little shops. Then we came across POPSMITH (Farm to pop): offering flavors of seasonally changing ice-pops showcasing our region’s fruits and herbs. Kat and I gladly forked over the 3 bucks and shared a red raspberry/basil one.

redraspberry

See the enjoyment??

And as that took place we came upon: Gray House Pies!!! Why does that warrant exclamation points? Two words: Drunken Cherry Pie. Okay that was three; keep your math off my blog! A pie made with tart and sweet cherries and blended with bourbon.

BOURBON.

It lead to this text between the wifebot and Rizza:

And then this between the Rizza and me:

me: my mouth will make love to the pie does that count?
rizza: just don’t American Pie it?

I assured her that I didn’t get to my pudgy status wasting pie like that.

So yeah. We headed over to Lincoln Park Pub for Taco Tuesday. It was tasty and they have a delicious hot sauce called the morning after.

Get it because it is yum.

I’m not going to complain about good food and hanging with cool/lovely ladies. You can check out their blogs at Poise in Parma, Jam in cle, Why Cle, Dog in the Cle, Clue into Cleveland, The girl I mean to be

I was happy to meet some new people and see those I’ve met before. It’s fun to hang with local bloggers and talk about writing, Cleveland, blogs, social media and anything really. It does feel funny when the others can talk about serious topics or such interesting niches or how they promote Cleveland and then it can turn to me and I’m like “I blog about blow jobs gone wrong and how I trick people.”

Grades:

Tremont Farmers’ Market: 2 blowjobs gone wrong up
Taco Tuesday at Lincoln Park Pub: 2 blowjobs gone wrong up

I’m just kidding; that’s not how I grade things. It was a fun time with fun peeps. I hope it happens more and I’m def making a Taco Tuesday trip back there.

 
This time I’ll get the “Kill me now” hot sauce.

Cupids, Cigars, and Meat or a weekend recap

April 29, 2013

THIS IS A WEEKEND RECAP
THIS IS A WEEKEND RECAP
YEAH!
THIS IS A WEEKEND RECAP
THIS IS A WEEKEND RECAP
YEAH!
I BET YOU’VE ALWAYS WONDERED WHAT A WEEKEND RECAP WOULD LOOK LIKE
WELL THIS IS WHAT A WEEKEND RECAP LOOKS LIKE
YEAH!
I FORGOT TO TAKE ANY PICTURES
WELL THERE ARE TWO PICTURES!
YEAH
THIS IS A WEEKEND RECAP!
MY WEEKENDS ARE VERY BORING!
YEAH

Hopefully you’ve stopped reading after that painful intro. There really isn’t all that much to read. Saturday we spent most of the day at home. There was one executive decision made: Dandelion wine will be made this year. I looked up recipes and everything. Hell, I pinned something on Pinterest. The goal is to start now and let it sit for a year. This time next year I’ll be sipping Dandelion wine while reading Dandelion wine.

Ray Bradbury is so thug life.

At some point the wife’s mom stopped over to help us with our garden. There are lots of things popping up. Hyacinths, Grape Hyacinths, Roses, Tulips and more! We are very excited but also have no clue what we are doing. But we’re trying Ringo.

Yeah vague Pulp Fiction reference!

Eventually we headed off. First stop was Pelvic Joann’s. Then we headed to Ohio City Burrito because we were all starving. There Kat did the weird thing of ordering chips but no salsa or even Guacamole.

Weird.

Next was the ever awesome West Side Market. It’s always such a fun, colorful time there. I’ve managed to resist the urge to mess with them as they carnival bark out to you. There’s a vendor there named Jim’s Meats. Which lead to this:

Wifey: Heh. Jim’s meats.
Me: Don’t worry you’ll load up on Jimi’s meat later.
Wifey: Really?

Next up was the Thrift Store. I was good (Read: boring) and only looked for work stuff.

Okay I looked for a tweed jacket. I always do.  No luck but there was this:

photo (7)

Then we went to Cigar Cigars in Ohio City. I needed to pick up a reward cigar. Why? Well, because my play was picked to be in a play festival. I found out about a line of cigars named Hemingway. Those seemed like the clear choice.  They’re made by Arturo Fuente Cigar Company. Luckily they had some. So I picked up The AF Hemingway Short Story and their Flor Fina 8-5-8 Maduro.

cigars

Can you guess which one is the short story?

Sunday was filled with work and steak. I really do love my job but there is one gallery that makes me think twice about it. That is the early European: French/Dutch galleries. I dig the stuff in them. It has to do with the sensors around the art and MOSTLY the dummies that set them off. OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER—Sorry. I of course was in those galleries Sunday. It was getting bad when this happened.

A kid about 7 years old came into the gallery with his parents. As he looked at the art he slowly started giving them all the stink eye. Then he saw “Cupids in Conspiracy.”

cupids

Stopped.

And said:  “This place is disgusting, look at those butts.”

Needless to say it helped me get through the day. I had hoped to see The Rizza that night but fate intervened. There was plenty of delicious food made by the wifey.

steak

Balsamic steak wraps and mashed potatoes. YUM! How was your weekend?


the one with rodents, pirates and robots

October 31, 2011

HAPPY HALLOWEEN BITCHES!

Sorry I woke up at 6:15 this morning for no real reason and appear to be a little hyper. That will end soon I’m sure. I’ve been gone a while but I couldn’t pass up posting on Halloween. I sort of dived into working poetry and poetry alone. When not creating new poems I was working on unfinished ones. Plus the manuscript and started a separate manuscript for a chapbook of wrestling themed/inspired poetry. More on that another time.

It is Halloween though so get over to B Movie Brigade and find some good (or bad) movies to watch.

How have I been keeping myself busy at work? Well, when there is down time I walk around my gallery trying to speak to ghosts. There are all sorts of stories about haunting there and I shall be your investigator. When my gallery is empty I walk around saying:

“Are there any spirits here? If you are here would any of you like to speak to me?” and etc etc.

As you may know (should) we are big into Halloween. Kat is an awesome costume maker. This year we went with a Princess Bride theme. She was Westley/The Dread Pirate Roberts and I was a Rodent of Unusual Size (R.O.U.S) and it was awesome.

Photobucket

Photobucket

And we hung out with our robot buddy Lindsay

Photobucket


the one with an origin story.

July 18, 2011

The fact that the wifebot was in a show recently meant that I was at a Theatre a lot over the last three weeks. This is something I’ll rarely complain about. I love the vibe, passion and energy that flow freely at a theatre when a show is up. Strangely the audience was usually made up of older adults.

(Strange in that it wasn’t the traditional plays being performed.)

I rarely miss a show of hers and this time was no different. I was at every single performance even the preview show. This means a lot of time around actors and directors, which for me is always a little strange. I dig them; it just always feels a little weird.

This also (generally) means I’m going to field the “you’re a playwright?” or “what are you writing over there?” questions. You can throw in the paranoia that I’m writing what they are saying or writing about them.

Now I’ve been known to steal conversations and clearly there is overheard Ohio but come on people. Not everything is about you. One night I was talking to an actor and they asked why I didn’t submit to the fest.

(And that is a story of my idiotic messing up of the deadline.)

As I talked over my glass of complimentary wine a dude who had been eyeing me as I wrote made his way to where I was sitting. As I returned from the wine table/my conversation he asked if I was going to be sitting there again. I told him he could have that seat as I was gonna walk around a bit.

He frowned and said “I was hoping you’d have a seat with me. I’d like to ask you some things.”

Jimi: Fuck that shit can’t you see I was working on some writing?

Or

Jimi: Sure why not.

I sat. He peered at me.

Him: I heard you’re a playwright.
Me: yeah.
Him: How does one go about becoming a playwright?
Me: Write plays? I mean I found my passion there and see things on the stage now.

The conversation went on from there. Mostly about how, what and why I write plays. He asked if I could talk about the play I was working on with him.

You may or may not know that the play I’m working on is a struggling playwright (ha ha) who gets dumped, fired, and rejected on the same day. He gets drunk and wants a simpler time. He remembers (and longs for) the time fondly when he was young and had an imaginary friend. His friend’s name is Percy T. Whale and yes he is a walking talking whale. He wishes for him and he returns. The problem? Percy is a drunk, annoying jerk who only causes trouble.

So I tell him this and he starts to get into it. He‘s asking questions and throwing out suggestions. He asks if I’ve considered letting someone writing a scene or two for me.

(Uhm?)

As the conversation continues it seems more and more like he’s hoping I’ll ask him to collaborate with me. Luckily Lindsay came and I was saved. The next week an older lady heard I’d seen every show—I help out the theatre doing whatever I can—and asked me why. When she found out that my wife is an actress and I’m a playwright she began asking questions.

I talked all the while hoping she’d ask me how I became a playwright.

Origin of a playwright:

When I was twelve I hated reading and loved math. I wanted to grow up and do something in the math field. One day while walking around and solving math problems in my head I came across a dog. I went to pet it and it bit my arm. I passed out.

When I woke up I was in the hospital and the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I had a fever and just started writing and writing plays. I wrote until the fever went down and I’ve been a playwright ever since.

She didn’t ask but that will be what I tell the next person.


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