Time management

I just realized that for every lengthy post like that, I could have done some real writing. I suppose I’m happy I’m even writing, but still. What I put into pontificating I could be more subtly and artfully infusing into a story or idea. I mean, in the end, one will be entertaining and expansive, the other a quaint little piece of insular, contained personal notes. Hmm…

Drink Me, Alice

This one’s actually pretty interesting, moreso than one I took on f.b.

Which Biological Molecule Are You?

You are water. You’re not really organic; you’re neither acidic nor basic, yet you’re an acid and a base at the same time. You’re strong willed and opinionated, but relaxed and ready to flow. So while you often seem worthless, without you, everything would just not work. People should definitely drink more of you every day.

Lost little kid

An interesting little email exchange that got me a little choked up today.

Sam: “I had a strange question, but the whole umbilical cord story at my birth, is that true? How about my memorizing of license plates? I always accepted them, but then realized maybe you or mom were just propagating some myth about me… I hate to sound so cynical or revisionist, but in recent years mom has come up with some weird stuff about me…”

Pops: “yes, the story of the umbilical cord is true. i was there for the whole thing. it was an experience to remember. the memorizing license plates was one of my favorite memories of you as a small child. you were so amazing as a small child. there was no reason to exaggerate. there are a lot of other stories about you just as interesting. i don’t know if i’ve ever really sat down with and told you all i remember about you when you were small. it makes for some interesting stories.”

What ever happened to that boy? Somewhere in here still, I hope.

I’m moody

Ha ha, I figured out why there was all this nonsense. Like many people, I’m prone to frustration. I need to wear a button, I think, to remind people to shrug me off and not take me too seriously. Especially when blogging for paragraphs on end.

Litter and it will hurt

That’s Washington for you. No “please don’t litter” “keep (your state here) clean” or “don’t mess with Texas”– it’s downright draconian here, they don’t fuck around. I remember this the first time living here, on the way to Mt. Rainier. That, and some nearby by graffiti- “Lou Ann was here… bitch.” (I think Lou Ann was supposed to be the bitch.)

Actually there’s not much to tell. It wasn’t a road trip, it was a move. Drive, gas up, drive, gas up, drive, sleep. Repeat three times. Sleep in a motel ten nights in a row (cha-ching!). I can’t really remember one thing of note we saw, it was a strictly economical trip. I mean, if we wanted to see some sights, would we have driven through Wyoming? Sorry million people, or however many, I just don’t like your state. Ho hum. It’s smaller than Texas, and we drove beeline, end to end, and yet it took up most of the drive for a day. And with our truck, we couldn’t drive more than 60, what with the strong winds and all. And a lot of little things went wrong there. In its favor, though, the sky is beautiful, so those references to “big sky” (I’m thinking of the Big Sky athletic conference, actually). The scenery was pretty bland most of the way up, and honestly, that was probably the most impressive sight of all. So the state is good for something, I guess.

Texas to Colorado was easily the best part of the drive. Sure, we were still in TX when it was dark, but it was only about 3 hours the rest of the way. As we progressed, I couldn’t help but think how nice it would be without a moving truck and three kitty carriers taking up space. You can visit at your leisure and still get there quickly. What with this new debt, that shouldn’t be a possibility for a while. Not knowing if you have work or a permanent place to live will also keep you from enjoying a trip. That, and two vehicles with three people mean someone is always alone.

I told you it wasn’t an interesting trip. The only other interesting thing was trying to sneak three cats in and out of hotels six different times. But out of the three kitties, mine was easily the most well behaved. Never used the bathroom in her carrier, rarely yowled (even when the others did), just slept, or lay back peacefully, staring back at me with a look of, “cry-babies. I can’t believe I’m next to these jokers.” Yup, she’s the best.

Depressing thought for the day

Ah, America, land of opportunity and freedom pussification, all respect to George Carlin. Hey, this country contains the best, not just the worst, of humankind, but follow the link below to get my drift.

Alienating
Mediocrity
Easily controlled, swayed, placated
Responsibility, lack thereof
Intelligence, lack thereof
Cowardice
Arrogance

I know that was incredibly cheesy, but if this doesn’t doesn’t disgust you to your core, then please never have children.

“Bitches, man!”

That immortal line is, of course, from the kid hanging out with the guys at the Gas n’ Sip shortly after Diane has dumped Lloyd in Say Anything. It doesn’t really reflect my state of mind, just the topic. I won’t go into the now-harmless details, but I recently had a potential personal issue with someone I know, that reminded me of an intermittent, but nonetheless, recurring event in my life— namely, when someone you think you’re friends with (and in one case, dating) all of a sudden cuts off all contact, or else turns on you. Granted, this isn’t uncommon, but it’s a bit jarring to me because there was no sign or harbinger of doom, it was completely unexpected. Self-conscious people like me think “what did I do?”, but not in these cases.

However, my incidents are always a little more complex, because, as most everyone knows, the vast majority of my friends are women, and I’m heterosexual. So there’s always the issue of walking the fine line between being a friend and being a forward, aggressive pig. So this recent occurrence reminded me of the past ones, and made me wonder if there wasn’t something in common. I talked to a lot of people about this, and my friend Angela (Ang, Mama, etc.) had this to say (note: the names have not been changed to protect the guilty):

“Your last message got me thinking again how women are turning into men. You know, how you described Victoria, Caren, and Veda as dropping you when you didn’t make a move. But now that I think about it…it kind of boils down to the fact that women are very self conscious. We try and act like it doesn’t bother us when a guy we like doesn’t make a move, and kind of have this “fuck you” attitude about it. So….we try and act like men, but in the end it does hurt us, and we just give up on being hopeful all together. But, on the same token…we want guys who are not timid, while at the same time not being overly aggressive!”

All I can think is that women are really starting to believe romance is dead. The part about giving up hope makes sense to me. Think about women who complain about meeting the same types of jerks, then think about the men they choose to NOT date. It’s a bit insulting hearing a female friend complain about some dickhead guy, all the while sitting there thinking “what am I, chopped liver?” I’m not interested in dating all my friends, but I’m a decent guy, respectful, caring, patient (not what women think of in a man), and it makes me want to smack them, because dating the same jerks over and over is a conscious choice. We wouldn’t be soulmates, but at least you’d be respected and cared for. Forget me, every woman probably has a few guy friends who are decent people, but who get overlooked for whatever reason. As someone who’s only dated three girls in 30 years, I have every reason to be bitter or misogynistic or misanthropic, but I’m not. Actually, I’m getting more hopeful as I get older, which is challenging in its own right.

So, maybe it just comes down to perspective and strength of character. The point about women becoming more impatient and short-sighted, and men (some of them) trying to be more patient, understanding, or sensitive, I thought it was an interesting observation. And it’s not completely true. If I’ve made it this far without becoming jaded, or at least, keeping it under control, then surely there are women out there who are the same. Probability isn’t on our side, but it’s something, I suppose.

(My current situation is cool now, and had little to do with the discontent of this post, it just reminded me of the past.)

“I’m emotional– ask me why!”

I need a button like that. You know, the ones people who work in shops, restaurants, or departments stores wear. That’s me all over— it’d fit right in with my “I just don’t listen” pin. (Note: art project idea.)

Sarah is awesome

Yesterday was one of those depressive for no discernible reason days at work, it was not merely fatigue. Very melancholy, but I had no idea why, which only compounds the frustration and depression. (I’m so emotional!) I couldn’t even listen to music, I didn’t feel like it and it didn’t help, which is astounding. But, by the time I got home, it was almost the opposite, almost ooshy-gooshy– I gave my friend two hugs. This isn’t the first time (you all know who you are), but it’s very satisfying to have people who repeatedly lift you out of trouble or drama, rather than cause it. (As a cynic and observer of real life, I tend to believe the opposite for most people.) This person wasn’t at all obligated to do anything but head for the hills, but she  chose to associate with me anyway, which is saying something, because it’s only human nature to shield oneself from moody people. That’s so nice. I feel so good about it, I’m going to make two pies so we can get fat together.

Thank you

To pine is human

We’re all entitled to feel dramatic, now and again, so here I go. (But, this is anything but spontaneous and irrational). I was at a friend’s birthday tonight, so this all might not seem so coincidental (and in truth, it really is not, but I don’t want to reveal much), even though I tried to convince myself it was. I had two pouty, pathetic realizations tonight, which I suppose I thought I was too old and mature for, something like that. But you’re never too old to feel insecure, eh?

1) I wish I had a couple more friends closer to my age. I love my people, but just about everyone is at least 3-4 years younger than me. Despite what people tell me (the waitress at the pool hall, even: “you have a baby face!”), it makes me feel old. Now that I think about it, It’s broader than age, more like I feel out of place. A LOT. (Yeah, join the club, I know…)

and

2) I really, really miss being in love.

I think if I had #2, it would solve #1. (At the least, I’d be more carefree and energetic.)

(This, I swear, is coincidence, but I got home, plugged ipod into the stereo, then had a shower. And what, out of 2900 songs, played shortly before I sat down to write this? “Lover, You Should Have Come Over” by Jeff Buckley. Thanks a lot, more wishful thinking.)