camera return was a shitshow
best buy was awful; didn’t follow the replacement portion of my warranty because they’ve changed their policy … despite my prime facie argument with the manager about the legal ramifications of not upholding a warranty … i gave up. let them
send my camera out … for “repair”
2-3 weeks for it to be returned

so what am i do do without a point and shoot in the interim?

especially considering i do need to replace my SLRs

so i said fuck it. you only live once.
ended up buying a Lumix
i’ve always wanted one. it’s an amazing machine.

fuck, it dude. i’m going bowling and shooting.

it’s been one year since i have flown on a plane. the longest stretch for sure in my 24 year career, but it may be as long as 34 years.

even stranger, i haven’t left the state of california for the same time frame.

surprisingly, i kind of like it. :-).

We are out looking at rocks and shit for the yard.
Joe just called me VERUCA. IN PUBLIC.
I may love him a little more.

A. i just cleaned out two flowerbeds with an actual shovel and a hand held something
B. i am really good at smashing stuff up, like knocking rocks loose, but the actual moving of the debris is not my strong suit
C. working with and moving dirt is not for the faint of heart. i cannot believe how hard it is!

i love finding something to research that takes me down a rabbit hole from where i can’t imagine emerging. when one connection leads to another, and another and another. i kind of feel like Pee Wee at the end of his neighborhood meeting in “Big Adventure” where he kind of loses it while describing his search as being a big cable knit sweater that someone keeps knitting, and knitting, and knitting, and knitting. thanks to the late Phil Hartman for that gem piece of dialogue.

the hardest part of the pandemic / virus / quarantine / whathaveyou is not being able to see my grandma. she turns 99 in two weeks and i can’t just go over and visit with her.

when i came home from europe last year, i was a wreck. i was involved with something we’ll call the Scorsatto Justice Project and i was distracted. then joe got sick. then the pandemic, and before you know it, it’s march 6, 2020 and the last day i was able to visit with my grandma.

as a result, i never showed her any of the pictures we took in italy last fall. i feel so terrible about that. i’m scared i won’t ever be able to visit with her in person again and while i do see her through the window, and talk to her on the phone, it’s hard to communicate like that. her ears are 99 years old, after all. she doesn’t catch everything. it’s terrible. and i know i have it better than most people, but selfishly it’s just not enough.

so, in honor of her 99th birthday, i’m putting together an old fashioned photo album. the kind with the little memo spaces by each pictures. i’m in the process of choosing the pictures for the album and my heart is just breaking. life is so short. my dad is killing me too. he almost died 5 years ago; what if he had? we never would have had this trip. and i’m glad and understand that i’m lucky and all, but what if there isn’t another? did i waste 25 years of my life worrying about working? making money? i can’t go back. i can’t get those days back. and while i am miserable on one hand because i’m not currently working, on the other hand i’m so glad i get this extra time with my family. now i’m just rambling, and crying, and proverbially bleeding. i’m down the rabbit hole.

so now what? i really don’t want to go back to work, but i know i need to … something about not being independently wealthy is going to drive that bus one of these days. if only i could monetize what i love to do … write, make jokes, comment on life. how do i do it? ugh. why is this so fucking difficult?

i’m finally going through the 9,162, or so, pictures i took in europe at the end of 2019. i didn’t know why i’d put it off for so long. i figured it was because of all of the other drama going on in my life … but i think i was trying to protect myself. weird. but as i look through the pictures, and i’m just looking at italy right now, my heart / soul / whathaveyou just aches. i don’t know why, but i want to be in europe again so badly that i’m almost in physical pain. each picture represents a memory; memories so palpable it’s overwhelming.

i think my entire life has been on hold for the past 58 or so weeks. that’s a really long time. so much has happened … most of which i still can’t process completely. but i need an outlet. i need a place to write. i’m tired of treading water. it’s exhausting thinking tomorrow is the day that the puzzle pieces are finally going to fit together without me forcing them.

it’s time to write a book. but which one? what idea wins? ugh. i guess the children’s book is a fine place to start … there’s way less bleeding required for that one … but i just can’t find the focus. my brain jumps from one thing to the next … out of control; nothing is in sync.

was Hemingway correct? do i just sit here, at my modern day “typewriter” and bleed? what if i can’t stop bleeding? then what? will i know when enough is enough?

children’s book aside, there is a story inside of me that is desperate to come out. it’s time. it’s beyond time. but i’m seriously afraid of how much it’s going to hurt to bleed that much … maybe it won’t be as bad as i think it’s going to be. maybe.

Wow. It’s been over two years since I’ve posted on this blog … my blog. The one with the killer title. Where have the last two years even gone? So much has changed.

I need to figure out a good place to keep all of my notes … is this it? I use Evernote for random information … but I need some place to blather. I may have to come back to this blog. The blog with the killer title.