Episode 51 Trailer – The Return of the Jefferson Davis Saga
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Tag Archives: jefferson
Bittersweet
Right, I called in last week to check on the status of my application with the orginisation previously stated. I got a bloke that sounded like he was having a bad day. Had a bit of an attitude, he did.
I asked him about the status of the app, and he said that they were not considering new applicants until the first of 2009. I told him that I had a curious question, if he didn’t mind me asking. So, I asked. "I have to take a few medications on a daily basis, so I was wondering if that would be a problem?"
"We generally don’t recommend that people join, if they have to take several meds due to problems of getting them into whichever country you would be selected for", he muttered as the sound of shuffling papers came through my earpiece.
"Does it depend on what kind of meds?"
“If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of health problems do you have?”
I gave him the facts, which I will not publish on the blog.
“To be frank here, why would you join when you have all of these problems.”
“I love to help people…I want to make a difference in this crazy world.”
“That’s very admirable of you, but you can make a difference locally without endangering your health.”
“That’s true, but I’m a rover…I love to travel.”
“They will consider your application with the utmost respect, when they are able to review it. I can give you a website to find community programmes in your area.”
He seemed a bit clueless as to why I’d join the peace corps. I let this wee conversation knock me down in the dumps. I do not like to be faced with my own ailments. I don’t really think about it. So, when I’m slapped in the face with my own mortality, I get a bit melancholic.
I had a realisation Sunday night while out drinking with an old friend. Two young women were sitting across from us at a table drinking (I was drinkin’ Guinness) shots of something. They started arguing over who was comelier. The scrawny blonde told the brunette that she was fat and laughed about it. She got up to powder her nose, and the brunette, with graceful shoulders and lovely mocha eyes, started pulling at her blouse. In my animated mindset, I leaned over and said, “She’s just jealous of your ravishing figure and brilliant smile”.
She pulled loose strands of long and wavy chestnut hair out from in front of her face and smiled.
“Thanks”, she mumbled, as we toasted to her friends nuttiness.
It turns out that we go to the same university. Her friend came back and started talking to the lot of us. She tried to get in with my wingman, but due to him being a hitched (married) chap, that was a no go.
To my point. I will no longer let people pull me down to their level. Words can be fatal, if you allow them to do so. I’ve been called everything that I could possibly be called. What they don’t realise is that I’m Jefferson effing Davis!
Don’t let people push you around. Laugh and walk away or stay and start a fray. Thick skin is grand when one has a warm heart within. Be tough! 
Southern Composure
I’m sitting in my almost empty and dark office. The powerful luminance coming from the laptop bounces off windows illuminating wee droplets of dew clinging to the bare panes like lacquer to freshly milled wood. The air is heavy with dust and drifting pollen sparkling in the moonlight. Tiny zephyr’s hauntingly whir round the sharp corners of the house leaving me with a sense of urgency.
As most of you may know, I was supposed to leave for Dublin on Wednesday. I was scheduled to leave my local airport at 3:51PM on that grand day, when I’d say goodbye to the family and start a new life. All of that changed almost two weeks ago, when I realised that when I secured a job I’d have to prove that I had enough money to live off of for the six month visa. I think it is a grand rule that I wish we had in the states. I only have enough green backs to last for three or four months, if I live conservatively.
A little over two months ago I sold a valuable piece of property. I thought that I would have enough money left after paying off all of my debts to live for six months if needed. However, it seems that every creditor that I’ve ever owed had their hands out. And, friends and family started using me like a bank. My large chunk of change dwindled in an expedient manner. I still have a bit left but not enough for a six month venture. It doesn’t help matters that the American dollar isn’t worth crap at the moment… Thanks Mr. Bush!
I mindlessly drifted for two or three days. I stopped eating and walked a lot. Walking puts me in a state of serenity. After three days of not speaking to my family and not taking calls, I came out of the fog fighting. “Since I’m going to be stuck here for a few more months, I might as well be illuminating myself”, I cerebrated whilst standing on the edge of a precipice looking over Raven Cliff Falls.
I signed up for a few classes at the local University. I’m taking Early Art History and Design. I am supposed to start Friday, if I can get all of my paperwork sorted out. I’m going to go to school, work on my photography, and work on computers on the side. I helped my Uncle do some landscaping jobs last week. We have a few flowerbeds to install in an elderly lady’s garden tomorrow. Landscaping may be laborious, but I do so enjoy the outdoors.
Truthfully, I was very anxious about the move to Ireland, yet very excited of the notion of a new beginning. Many people have enquired as to why I love Ireland and speak of it with such veneration. Ireland has a certain mystique about it that I can’t quite explain. My love of Ireland started when I was a lad in school.
Throughout my youth, my mothers family had spoke of Ireland with the same reverence. On occasion, my grandmother would pull antique papers and pictures out of the attic and show me and my cousins our ancestors. She’d tell us of where we came from and how proud we should be to be who we are. She’d talk of America and all of the great people that make up the nation from all nationalities.
When I was ten, I had a social studies class that I excelled at. I was the teachers pet in every class I had. Teachers and professors alike still keep in touch with me. On one particular brisk winter morn she asked me to help her bring in a bunch of books from her car. We brought in about thirty small hardback books filled with vibrant pictures and words from numerous countries. She asked us all to take one from the pile. When I went to get mine, she pulled one out of her desk drawer that she had saved for me.
My eyes lit up with delight as the fluorescent lights illuminated the glittering green letters that scribed, Ireland. She smiled and whispered that she expected a good report. We took our books home to read. I stared at the pictures hoping to hop into this magical world depicted in the lines. I had to read what I could while my parents were still at work. At the time, it was a form of escapism for me. It is not that anymore, but at that time, I desperately needed some form of escape.
The older I got, the more I realised that we live on a small planet. Every culture is unique in its own way, but we are also so similar.
I’d like to thank all of my friends for all of the advice, help, and kind words. I am supposed to get my internet back on Wednesday. I hope to be back to regular blogging ASAP.
P.S.: Do you know what the up shot is to going back to University? Illumination! And, new skirts to chase… 
Thank you all.
Best
jd
Eh – Ell – Hello
I finally found the perfect video that imitates my stumblin’, mumblin’, and stutterin’ self. I only stutter around ha – hot ba – babes.
Blog?
This wee sector of 0’s and 1’s on a hard drive in a case with ten other hard drives and four CPU’s…I don’t know it anymore. My little droplet of creativity in an Olympic size pool has become foreign even to me. This website was created to express who I am in a creative and artistic fashion. It used to be a grand corner of the interweb. I’d write a new story or poem that’d knock people off their heels. They’d nudge me to keep at it and suggest improvements. I’d oblige and write another fictional story better than the last. I’d give hints and codes to my own identity. It’s not that hard to figure me out, but I love mystery and intrigue.
I was welcomed into a community of worldwide bloggers from all walks of life. Some of them treated me like family, others treated me like their son. I loved them all to bits and still do. It was a grand time in my life. I have learned so much from so many people. I am very grateful to all of you.
In a strange mist that lasted for months, I verged off the creative path and went down a strange and boring trail. I let people tell me what I was better at, and what I should pursue. I conformed to one small group and have paid a dreadful price for it. This blog, if you want to call it that, was never meant to be a daily log of my life. If I had something important going on or something inspiring to share, I’d announce it. Otherwise, it was fiction and faction (non-fiction that has been fluffed up to make it interesting.) as usual.
To be honest, I’ve not felt like my old self in six months or so. It is imperative that I write fiction and pour my heart out into a poetry, even if no one else ever reads it. I’m real and everything that I’ve ever said that was factual, is, but I also have the imagination of a youngster. It’d be a damn shame to waste that! Yes, I’m a fantabulous photographer and very thankful to those that have helped me along the way. But, I’m a whole package. Not only can I take or draw the picture, I can also tell you about the scene in a way that’ll make your heart melt. My writing is certainly not up to the degree it once was, but I’ll get there again and move forward.
So, there will be no more blabbering on about weekends or boring nonsense that no one wants to read anyway. If I have exciting news or a meme to do, I’ll post it. Otherwise, I’ll be going back to the old game plan. I’ll post new photos, poems, short stories, and drawings. Jefferson Davis of auld is back baby!
Be afraid…be very afraid…
P.S.: Please continue your regularly scheduled skimming of blogs. Thank You
