July 2009 Archives
It is, in my humble opinion, the dream and goal of every male mammal to shuffle off this veil of tears in the manner of this lucky sea lion...
Imported Goat Penis
No wait, those were recalled....
How about a burger?
And for dessert?
Ox Tongue ice cream! It licks you back!
or how about the Dark Chocolate Bacon cupcake
Bon Apetit!
It starts at midnight.
No one's hand will be on my beating heart when the clock strikes 12 and another year turns into a pumpkin. My memory gets worse and worse over time, but if it's not true that this is the first year in a very long time that has happened, it feels like it is, and that's truth enough for me.
It usually is.
So much has changed about my life and surroundings, and yet I'm still here, even if I have changed as well. It's hard to gauge how much is myself or my perceptions, because after enough time even the mirror starts to look wrong. Our brains aren't good at long term introspection...they wander far off the point, as if to try and lead you away from anything too scary you might happen upon.
For me, it's like a hangnail that you can't stop picking at. The more it hurts, the more it bleeds, the more you have to pick at it to get the damn thing out. I get like this often enough, but only really let it out a couple of times each year. This is one of them.
Some of this identity has leaked into the real world, from the last time around as well as since, and so with work and offline life having access to these fleeting sentiments, I reluctantly edit certain portions of the whole. I don't like this fact, but it's too interwoven to simply ignore. The older archives will be posted as is, though.
So on the night where I am the only witness to my continued vascular function, save a couple of mostly loyal Beagles (hey, I feed them every day) and some layabout cats, it seems fitting, even appropriate, that it should be this way. It just doesn't seem right.
Funny about language. I only speak English fluently (sometimes that's debatable), but the most versatile words are also the clumsiest. Right has at least 16 different definitions, two of which are 'fitting' and 'appropriate'. However I can experience both of those as 'not right'. Clumsy.
I think multisyllabic words tend to be more precise in definition because the shorter words were all taken up by the most basic concepts. Simple ideas got words first, and as the language filled up, we needed longer words to differentiate from the current ones. It's an overly simplistic way to look at things, but basic understanding of a complex world requires an ability to sometimes oversimplify just to sort out key differences, even if they are flawed. If what I am saying is complete horseshit, there's a foundation of truth to be found in it nonetheless.
Then I wonder why happy is longer than sad. Did the latter come first? My evening's navel-gazing says so, but I am coloring perceptions with mood. Always a dangerous prospect.
I have been wearing a grown-up disguise for so long now, I am not just fooling others with it, but myself too. I am an outwardly responsible professional, taxpayer, parent (both of humans and animals), and just general all-around person. My family tree has a lot of dotted lines. Outwardly I have a life that many would want; that I myself wanted...but it's hard to remember again exactly why, or if this was it, or what now?
I thought that one day it would all just make sense and voila! I am an adult, but honestly at this stage it's more like 'stuff it - I'm doing the best I can'. Maybe that's all there ever really was-or is for anyone else.
I think we like stories of the mighty falling because they reassure us that 'those people' are no more with it than we are. We like underdog stories because they show us that we, too, have got a shot at redemption. People are social animals, but far too self absorbed to be truly cooperative. Look at bee hives or ant colonies as a comparison, or the fall of communism for a lesson. We help others when helping ourselves...at least that's what we do best.
As I look back to the failures and foibles of life and love gained, lost, and the sleepless nights of all those entail, on both sides of the spectrum, I can't help feeling an unwilling return to the cold water of reality, although I've dropped too many breadcrumbs over the years to find my way back to where that once was. We don't get any "do-over's" in life, but we sure as hell get quite a few "do again's". Perhaps true wisdom is when you learn when to take another shot at something versus when you know it's not worth the risk.
I still like to take risks though.
So while I set this mess up again and do the same with myself, I don't know what will or won't happen with it all. My online self started as a tribute to all that was off with my place in the world, and seems to be right back there again, only 9 years later this time around, with a creeping detour in the middle that turned into...
...something else. But that's not what I signed back on for, although perhaps, in a roundabout way, it's what I signed back on because of.
Confused? Good. Me too.
Cancer is the sign of the crab. We're nurturing, moody, and good in the sack. We make awesome cooks. We don't fight well and would rather shut up than compete in a screaming match, however, when pushed, can be the most vicious opponents. We just don't like to be pushed.
I once was content to hide in temporary respite. Perhaps I still am. I make extra effort to stay too busy to have a chance to sit at home for very long, then complain at how busy I am and relish in the few moments I do have. It's harder to hit a moving target, but I don't entirely know what I am dodging. I think it might be myself. I do all this so I can have a home that I am rarely at, and it only occasionally seems silly. I'm not sure why.
I feel too young for my body and too old for my heart. I am jealous of being 10 years older, and desirous of being 10 years younger.
I'm going on far too long about all of this.
I have a good sense of humor too, just not tonight.
Happy Birthday to me.
(hand on heart)
Right. So rather than the unimaginative v4 title, I decided to press the reset button. Seems to be the meme of the year anyway.
There is no real layout, and I am impressed that my Wintel disabilities allowed me to perform the MT install on my remote Linux server in the first crack at it.
The old stuff...back from before 99.9% of the world ever heard of 'blogging...before the term 'blog existed as a contraction...it's all in here somewhere. I'll be coding those bits over time. For now it's just the words.
That's how it started last time.
