Skip to main content

There's a light in the darkness of everybody's life.

This one'll be a quickie, I swear. I really can't afford to have y'all charge any extra....

So my manager was getting rid of a light-fixture-thing from the store and thought of Parker and me. She figured a creative person or two could find all kindsa neat ways of using it. Instead, she ended up with us.

Kidding, kidding...as far as I could tell it's some kind of 'light box'. You'd set it up and, possibly?, set it up with, like, letters...and stuff....and it would light them up? maybe?

Unfortunately my manager threw out all the stuff on how to set it up--and what the fucker's even supposed to look like when it's all set up. Joy

So my friend and I haul ass to get it all the way back to my house. It's heavy and it's big. We had to put down his back seat and force it through the trunk.

So we get it home. After some fuss, Parker and I pop the rest of the cardboard box open and take a look at the.....disappointment.

My guess is we're missing more than just the instructions--maybe like the whole rest of it, too. We don't even have the lights for this thing. Like, this was just the 'base'--the plywood back, the 6 black fluorescent light fixtures, and the plug/wiring. Oh, and another piece of plywood or three to hang/stand/something it. That's a whole lot of hauling for a whole lot of (basically) nothing....

We're not exactly sure what we want to do with it. Naturally we could still do something creative with it. Parker, of course, has let me down with unnaturally dull ideation. He wants to get normal fluorescent tubes, and hang the thing face up, and have it just be a light. Sigh, what am I going to do with this boy.

I'll probably talk to my boss about it at work today. That's something proactive! There's a second box, which we'd assumed was a second light thing like what I hauled home, but maybe it's the other half...? or maybe the rest is in some other box somewhere?

Oh well, speaking of work and today, I should get ready to head off.

Comments

Other things that might interest you...

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo.
In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.  (Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide.)

The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous flowers herse…

Losing Doolittle.

I recently got to spend a few days at the lake house my family used to visit through most of my childhood; we no longer own it, and it turns out I missed it more deeply than I realized.

Anthony and I both got the week before NYC Pride off this year, so I contrived to get us a little time there. The cousins who own Greenshore gave Anthony and me permission to relax there for several days rather than just the 1 or 2 I had expected. Good god, I'm grateful for that.

I missed this place. Standing on the balcony, the porch, or the dock and looking out over the lake, I was reminded of the beauty and tranquility this lake represents for me. The meaning and memories, too.

This was always a place of solace and stability for me. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, but we always came back to this place. It had been in our family for generations before I was even born—if we'd been able to keep it, it would have been a solid 4 generations including mine. This was where I figured out I w…

Gardenzia carnivorus.

I recently got back into horticulture after a bad moment of burnout, and wouldn't ya know it, I'm back at it with carnivorous plants! Despite tweeting about it endlessly, I haven't actually explained how or why this started.

Back in middle school, I helped my science teacher set up a carnivorous plant display. Nothing elaborate, mind you; a terrarium with a bunch of sphagnum moss and some pitcher plants, a sundew or two, maybe a Venus flytrap? Didn't leave much of an impression, except maybe that they died and that sucked. shrug.
A couple years later, I was in a bog near my grandmother's lake house, when things changed forever. I was in the back end of the canoe, and as my dad pulled the front end out of the water, I glanced to my right and spied, on a stump with some moss, sundews (Drosera rotundifolia, to be precise).
Of course I recognized therm instantly—they're hard to mistake, with those the sparkling tentacles and all. I gathered 3 or so of them (I know