Well Hello There!!!

O.K. three weeks is enough, I know! These last few weeks truly have me stumped. One would think that with everything going on in the world that I could muster some inspiration to write. Not so! I have wanted to write about a ton of subjects but have been unable to piece more than two words together. "Fuck It" is the extent of my creativity. So let me throw out some random shit and see where it takes me.

1. I saw Lewis Black in concert. He said "Fuck" or one of its many off shoots, 257 times. It was fucking brilliant.


2. Women's beach volleyball is my new favorite sport. Well, at least until football season starts. (I haven't totally lost my mind.)


3. When did Ping Pong and Badminton become sports and Baseball and Softball not? Have the Olympic Muckity Mucks lost there fucking minds?


4. Horse doping in the Olympics??? What's next, a corked balance beam scandal?


5. When you tell a cab driver the address that you need to get to, they should never say "I am not knowing where dat iz!" Look, there's a thing called GPS, buy one!


6. How did McCain score a milf with such bad teeth?


7. My brother is still a dick.


8. This is the most honest obituary. . . . . . . ever!

My neck hurts, I'll see you all tomorrow.

Jake

California Summer.

Hola everyone. Been in class all week. Now I'm on the fireline in the Napa hills. I have some great pics but I am clueless on posting from iPhone. Will catch up with all of your blogs soon.
Jake

I'm Back With A Vengeance

Alright, I'm back. It's been such a crazy week and a half. I'm going to spew quite a bit of crap out. If it appears that I am jumping around like an epileptic at a square dance, I apologise in advance.

Let me begin by thanking all of you for the concern and kind words. I greatly appreciate it.

In brief summary of last week, my Grandfather died. Sad news yes, but it didn't bring me to any form of incapacitation. I had only seen him a few times in the last twenty years. I'll save my childhood memories for a later post. No funeral was planned just a memorial. I have not, an most likely will not be invited. I will remember him and celebrate his life privately in my own way.

In the days after his death I found myself putting a great deal of thought in the whole "Death" thing. In my mind I actually constructed a great blog post about the subject. I wrote it, read it, edited it, and re-wrote it several times in my head. It was amazing. When the time came to transfer the words from the grey matter to the computer, it occurred to me. It was pretty fucking bleak and dark. Well written yes, but frankly it was depressing as hell. So, I elected to keep it up top. Maybe someday I will let it out. For now. . . .I'll wait.


With all of my introspective assessment and vain attempts at self analyzation I have not found the key to happiness. I did find an old rusty lock where the fucking thing must go, but *hmmmpph*, no damn key. . . .I'll keep looking.

Last week I outed myself a bit. I was in a strange mood and needed to give some of me, to all of you. I have been considering it for quite some time. To tell you the truth, my job will provide a lot of entertaining material for the blog. I also rambled about my pre-blog research. I'm weird like that. I like to know about "things" before I commit involvement. So if I sound like a wacko for reading "Blogging for Beginners" lists. . . . Take a good look at this. . . .

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, outing myself and "honesty". My decision to use a pseudo name was simple. Anonymity is essential for my career. Besides I think there is something kinda cool about the whole superhero "other" name thing. By the way, the answer is "No"! I don't have bright red body suit with a fire hydrant blazoned across my chest; fucking smart ass. . . . . .

It's actually black with a big "J".

Considering that my "family" has all but vanished. Save the intermittent "Hey, guess who died" call. Here is the "major change" I have decided to pursue. I am going to change my last name. Not my fake Superhero last name, but my real life last name. Having no real connection to the "Wacko Clan", I'm going to drop the Fuckerville Step Dad name in lieu of my biological fathers surname. Mrs. T is ecstatic since she hates the "Now" name and loves the "Birth" name. A new life starting with my old name. I feel good about it.

Anyway campers, it's nice to be back. See you all again tomorrow night. I'll catch up on all of your blogs around lunchtime.

Jake

A Bit Of Honesty.

I was inspired to begin my personal blog after reading one created by an old friend. Prior to embarking on my blogging journey I did quite a bit of reading to learn more about the process and to gain some sort of insight into what makes a successful blog. In my research I found a list of suggestions that one woman had created to help out the new blogger. Although I would love to give her due credit, I have lost both the list and the link to her website.

One of the bullet point suggestions was to NOT use your real name. Her thought was that in order to have a truly honest blog, that is "real", many beginners find it helpful to create a persona or nickname that becomes there blogging identity. Strange really, the idea that you had to somehow be "dishonest" in order to be honest. But I did again see some logic to her idea. In addition she suggested that you tell none of your close friends or relatives until you have established a voice and audience. Again, her theory is that people filter and water down what they write out of fear of what people they know will think or feel. Again, sounds like a great suggestion.

So when I went about creating this blog, I took her advise on several points. I picked a name that fits who I am as a person and in fact gave a clue as to my profession of choice. Not knowing how protective to be of my identity, I had chosen to not come out an reveal what I do for a living. But with yesterdays post I felt it was important (in order properly convey that moment in my life) that I reveal a bit of me. I am a firefighter. The "Branch" is my station and the "Company" is the city I serve.

I have yet to reveal my blog to family and friends. I don't believe that will happen anytime soon. In addition I kind of like the whole Jake thing. Because trust me, my real name is really really generic. As a matter of fact if I was a can of beer, I would just be a plain white can with my first name in bold black letters. (Plus I would be flat and most likely leave a bad taste in your mouth). So please still think of me as Jake, the confused 40 year old fireman from California.

As far as the Grandfather events of the last few days. I have quite a bit to think about before I write about it. I am leaving tomorrow and will be gone for a few days. I will post again on Tuesday.

Take care,

Jake

p.s. She also suggested that you cuss alot. I fucking loved that one!

In Need Of Preventive Maintenance

I am fucking tired. I am worn-the-fuck out and need a break. Since April the first until today, work has kept me from home for twenty-one days. The few days that I have had off have been filled with errands and miscellaneous "honey-do" projects. I will be home tomorrow morning. I am scheduled to return to the office on Tuesday. The truth is; and I can tell you right now, that is not happening. If I "hypothetically" were to get sick Monday night and miss work on Tuesday and Wednesday, I wouldn't have to return to the office until the following Monday. Complicated, I know. If you don't ask, I won't have to explain. In addition, Mrs. Titus is considering a trip to Alaska that would have her leaving on the 5th. So, Simply put, I am looking down the barrel of a nine day vacation. Jake can to do "whatever"!!! Should I pull the trigger? Here is a partial, running list of activities I hope to enjoy.

1. Sleeping in at least one day.
2. Passing out at least on night.
3. Playing a round of golf.
4. Seeing a baseball game. Either the A's or Giants. . .it doesn't matter.
5. Visiting Skid Jones in Sac.
6. Smoking "several" cigars.
7. Fixing the Roadking.
8. A possible Sopranos marathon.
9. A beach day.
10. Spontaneous poker night with guys from the "old branch".
11. Getting Mrs. Titus's truck detailed.
12. Get my property taxes lowered.
13. Getting all the crap in my "ebay sell pile" photographed and put online. (hey, that could make a great blog post.)
14. Did I say "sleeping in"?
15. Surprising Mrs. T by finishing all the painting in the upstairs part of the "Titus Pad".
16. Mass TIVO catch up session.
17. Reno road trip? Hhhhhmmmmmm. . . maybe if the Roadking comes back to life.
18. Get my left sleeve started in Oakland.
19. Oh yeah, Blog my ass off!!!!

Well, that's a start. Anyone have any suggestions? I would love the input.

See ya this weekend. Oh wait, you all have lives. O.K. see ya on Monday

Jake

Really, I'm full of it. . .No, really!!!

Last week another blogger described posting on the weekend. He compared it to being alone in the desert. You're all by yourself. You're walking around in a proverbial circle until you collapse from exhaustion and desperation. What the hell do I write about? What the fuck do I say?

That's where I find myself tonight. I've read other blogs. I've Googled ridicules shit for some off the wall inspiration. Shy of pounding my head on the keyboard, I don't know what else to do. I have spent a great deal of time talking shit. Usually that shit is at other peoples expense. Maybe I should spend some time fucking up my own shit. As you know, I have been talking about teaching. I have been putting quite a bit of thought into this whole thing. As exciting as I have convinced myself that it would be, I have also had my doubts.


Here's the thing, I'm no genius. Now let me elaborate. I'm not saying that I'm some sort of "softhead idiot". I'm smart. I can carry my own in most conversations. I'm just not really "brilliant". I've read some blogs that left me feeling. . . . completely lost. They are smartly written with deep thought provoking content. It makes me want to step away from the computer and go watch re-runs of Beavis and Butthead.

The strange thing is, most people that I know, think I'm some sort of super smart dude. I have common sense and I have a brain filled with; what I consider, useless shit. But the topper is....amazing poker face. To bad I can't play the fucking game! I'd be a millionaire. Anyway, this is where I call bullshit on myself. I can be really phony. Here is an example, I've had conversations where a $10 word gets thrown into the mix. I'll tell you what I don't do. . . . I don't say " excuse me but what is a deuteragonist*"? Rather I'd spout of something like "well he's certainly no deusexmachina**"! So, people have come to think that I am a person endowed with some sort of mental superiority. Fact is, much of the time I'm just full of shit! For fucks sake I didn't know what convoluted meant until about three months ago. Amazing what you can learn by picking up a dictionary!

So, now this whole teaching dilemma. Yes I know my shit when it comes to my job. But the act of teaching seems kind of daunting. Maybe I just fear that some little pencil neck brain-i-ack mother fucker is going to see right through me. Game over! Thanks for playing! That would suck. Is my ego to frail? I'm not really sure.

You know, talking shit about myself isn't as fun as I thought it would be.

Hhhhmmmmmmmmm........


Is it just me, or is this some sort of "Mormon Robert Palmer Video"? These crazy bitches scare the shit out of me!

Aaaahhhhhhhhh....... that feels better.


*&** Yes, I used a dictionary. Thank you Mr. Webster.

The Female Mind

As indicated by my very brief post two days ago, I have had ten or so days of hell. I had every intention of writing about my miserable week and a half. I wanted to rant. I wanted to scream at the top of my friggen lungs. I was simply waiting for time. When the time came, I was going to puke my rage out onto the pages of my blog. One huge misery purge.

Then, the time came. Low and behold. . . . . I didn't feel like spewing all of this shit out! I've gotten over most of it and the rest I'm trying to let go of. But that still leaves the blog. So instead of doing a bullet point rant of all this crap, I am instead going to write about an observation I made last week.

On "Good Friday" Mrs. Titus began to feel like crap. This continued for several days. On Monday I had the day off from work. While she slept in I got up from bed and started doing shit around the house. Here is a brief list.

• I emptied the dishwasher.
• I filled the dishwasher and ran the load.
• I took Grandma to her doctors appointment.
• I took Grandma to her lab appointment.
• I went to the pharmacy to get Grandmas medicine.
• I went home and emptied the dishwasher.
• I folded the cloths in the dryer.
• I did two more loads of cloths and folded them as well.
• While in the process of vacuuming the house (including the stairs from hell), Mrs. Titus wakes up and the following conversation and event transpire. . .

Me: Hi Honey. How are you feeling?

Her: Like crap. Can you make me a tuna sandwich?

Me: Sure I can. Do you want chips with that?

Her: No, just the sandwich. . . thanks.

Me: No problem, you just lay down. I've got everything under control around here.

So I proceed to make us tuna fish sandwiches. Rather than stay in bed, she chooses to come down stairs and eat at the table. Now let me remind you, the house is DIALED IN!!!!! I bring her her sandwich. She takes ONE bite and says. . . .

Her: There is way to much tuna on this sandwich and you also used to much Dijon. I knew it! You just don't love me anymore!

Me:?

Women often say that men are babies when we're sick. For the most part, I agree. But, after having the flu I have never gotten out of bed and discovered. . .

• The oil had been changed in All of the cars, and the Harley.
• The lawn is mowed
• The plants and bushes are trimmed and fertilized.
• The cars are washed and gassed up.

you get the picture. . .

See I don't expect that. But believe me If that happened, the last thing I would say is. . .

Me: Honey, you are a heartless bitch. You fucked up my lunch!

Help me out here. Am I off base? WTF

Breathe Jake, Breathe.

I have a million ideas and thoughts spinning around inside my head right now. I'm thinking about so much stuff that it's hard to concentrate. It feels like there are huge speakers on each side of my head. Each one is blasting random shit at 800 decibels.

It's amazing that even with everything I have on my plate and my mind, I have nothing to really write about. I've combed the news, read lists of posting ideas, and lurked around others blogs for a good part of the day. It hasn't helped.

I wanted to write about Brett Favre, Patrick Swayze, and John Ritter but honestly I don't have it in me at the moment.

Each day I grow more frustrated and angry with how bad the economy is. Peoples lives are falling apart and we have a fuckstick in office that didn't know gas will soon cost $4.00 a gallon.

The elderly; many of whom don't understand how a calculator or computer works, are expected to navigate their way through our broken medical system. The new medicare drugs program is so confusing and ineffective it should be tossed out (along with Bush-fuck)

This week there have been multiple incidents around the country where young college women have been brutally murdered. Bombs are exploding in time square. We are still fighting a war for no apparent reason. People are dying!!!! What the fuck is going on?

I wanted to choke this fucking bitch that works at the local grocery store. I hate being in her line and will usually avoid it. Yesterday she was tending the 10 items or less line and I was in a hurry. She always has this phony plastic I'm better than you smile on her fucking face. It makes me want to punch her. She also wears this gold cross necklace outside her top/shirt/sweater for everyone to see. So, I'm in her line at the counter. Outside there is a homeless person with a cardboard sign asking for help. Any compassion from cunt face? Hell friggen no. She says "what a loser. He's probably on drugs you know? He should go get a job!" Now if you have read my previous post (http://jaketitus.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-bad.html) you know how I feel about this. With this economy wouldn't it be fitting to see her heartless ass out there, next week, asking for a small amount of kindness or understanding from someone?

Jake

A new look at an old problem.

Over the past year or so, I have had an issue with "friendship." I have found myself having to redefine what I believe friendship to be, convincing myself that my new concepts are valid, and put those ideas into action. The ideas of friendship that I believed in as a younger man, no longer seem to be valid as applied to my life and ideals today. Looking back, my relationships have been grossly imbalanced. People that I have consider friends have continually let me down. I discovered recently that I was committed to people / friends that weren't committing the same in return. So I had to ask myself if these people were really friends to begin with.

Let me begin by explaining to all of you that I have many acquaintances but very few close friends. I still tend to be more comfortable in small groups than I do in crowds. I tend to follow / join conversations rather than initiate them. It is comfortable for me, and I am happy that way.

As the years have gone by, I have lost touch with almost all of the people I new as a child and young man. To be honest, it was not due to my lack of trying. Every year or so I would call the few close friends from my past to catch up. The conversations were pleasant. We would say things like "we need to stay in touch" and "let’s get together soon." I knew all along that this was not going to happen. Year after year, I would initiate the calls and get none in return. I really was pathetic. I have been trying to hold onto bits of my past while life has been passing me by.

Several events have changed my thoughts and outlooks on friendships. The first major one has been the distance I have placed between my family and me. As a victim of abuse, this separation has given me a kind of new found strength. Secondly, by placing myself into comfortable situations, I have discovered people putting themselves out there and showing interest in me as a person. To be honest, this is scary. Establishing trust and learning about new people in intriguing and exciting. It is also daunting and intimidating. The third event came unexpectedly, just after New Years. A friend from high school called me on the phone. We had been playing phone tag for several weeks when he finally reached me on my cell phone. We talked for about twenty minutes. It was one of the most genuine talks I had had in a very long time. Life has really beaten him down, and it sounds like he in a very bad place in his life. He told me he is floundering and just can't seem to find a new direction. We discussed growing up in "Fuckerville". I sincerely thanked him for his friendship when we were young. He was really the only person that talked me up when the rest of the world was taking turns kicking me in the balls and beating me down. That’s what I told him, almost verbatim. He thanked me in return and said “That means a lot to hear, I wish I hadn't lost touch with you." Unlike past phony plastic phone calls, it felt genuine to hear "let’s get together." I discovered that he has a blog. I read it regularly. His blog was one of the inspirations to begin mine. Someday I will share this with him.

Jake

Write.

Writing is something that I really enjoy. I have tried to write; on and off, for many years. But being a consistent writer has proven to be difficult. I often times don't know what to write or how I should write. What is my voice or passion? Where do I start? What do I know? Am I full of shit? Recently I discovered that A friend from the past had a blog. I have enjoyed just lurking, reading, and following what has been going on in his life. It occurred to me that having a blog would be a great format to get my writing off of the ground. But alas I am still faced with the same questions of what, when, why, how, etc. . . So I have been reading a creative writing book that takes you through daily steps and lessons to harness the writer that apparently resides in all of us. It helps. I know that I still have a lot to learn, but it's a start. I feel that as long as I can post/write at least five to six times per week, I'm bound to get better.
Jake