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There Are Days [Thoughts]

IMAG1268_1_1There are days.

There are days when you’ll be cut off in traffic and when you’ll get a ticket because of the photo radar system. Chances are, it’ll be at the intersection you never, ever, ever run except for that one day when you were just a little too preoccupied and you didn’t gun it or break it in time. If you’re really unlucky, you’ll get twice of those in the same week (but different intersections, of course, because you’re not stupid).

There are days when you realize you’re unhappy and missing out on life’s best moment but you have to because you’re a slave to a paycheck.

There are days when you look at your most important relationship and realize, “There’s nothing wrong — but there’s everything wrong.” Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on April 25, 2014 in Thoughts

 

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Heavy Medal

I’m a committed non-collector. That’s all you need to know about me and my willpower.

But I want to collect, so badly. Disney pins, stamps, coins, letters, postcards, stickers, crushed flowers, spices, pictures, dolls, pieces of lint that look like presidents (that’s a joke…or is it?). The only thing that might make me happier than collecting is organizing the collection into some kind of obscure taxonomy that would make sense to only the most analytical.  Collecting would give me control to create order. It would make me the Larry Page and Sergey Brin of my own little domain.

Speaking of organization, here’s a true story: In my teens, I used to make mix CDs and tapes for my friends. Nothing special there. Prehistoric cave man Grog probably did this for his long-haired Grettahilda using teeth rammed into a barrel and yak whiskers for percussion implements to make a music box filled with “Early Man’s Greatest Hits.” But for me, the art wasn’t just in the selection of songs but in their arrangement. Each song had to be connected to the next in some very precise way. Options included: Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on March 19, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Like the Gerber Baby

Today is my son’s birthday, a child’s birthday always being a good moment for reflection. Yet as I look at his smiles, I see the shape of his face melt.  In the span of a few moments he becomes his brother at the same age.  A little bit more time passes and he becomes one of his nieces, then another, and then he becomes his 13-year-old cousin as an infant.  Before too long, he is one of my baby sisters.  Everyone melts backward into youth like Miss Foley in Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on July 18, 2011 in Thoughts

 

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A Fluff Piece

Traveling makes me realize how idiosyncratic I can be. Although traveling itself doesn’t make me anxious, I’m around new people who force my awareness of activities that are subconscious at home.

I can’t imagine having quirks is that uncommon, although the number may be unusual. I’m somewhere above anal retentive but not yet at batshit crazy. Every textbook I’ve read has advised me that unless these quirks obstruct ‘normal’ interaction, it’s not technically a psychosis. Yes, for this medication helps too.

The idiosyncrasies range from strangely pointless to slightly paranoid. To wit: Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on July 12, 2011 in Thoughts

 

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Giving Birth

This blog is born of a stomach-ache.

Coincidentally, it’s a stomach-ache that I’ve had for about nine months although it has nothing to do with anything related to the procreative act or biological progeny.

Dissecting the cause of the stomach-ache is currently impossible but this blog is my attempt at trying.  I suspect that we’ll find at the roots my anxiety about the impermanence of life, frustration about the world in general, a general feeling of unworthiness, and a persistent stench that I call “fear of failure.”  Mixed in is my underlying sense that some care for me more than I feel I can reciprocate (that’s a lot of pressure), whereas to others I scarcely matter.  Intrigued yet?

This blog will be part story-telling, part diary, and probably all gibberish.  I will do my best to edit and apply some kind of craft to it but will not allow concerns of quality to keep me from contributing.  I have three other blogs, a Twitter feed, and a tower of crafting supplies that are stale because I want their products to be perfect.  That’s not how this will be.  I will post at least once  a week (excluding times of disease or disaster), come what may.

I don’t expect that anyone except the most random of webcrawlers will find this blog and I don’t plan on sharing it with anyone who knows me – it would embarrass me deeply and risk hurting others.  But, I need to publish this online because I need to think that there’s a cosmic “someone” who is reading this and holding me accountable.  Without accountability, this blog will die and I’ll never resolve my stomach-ache.

All I can promise is that I’ll be honest, diligent in posting, and will make some attempt to deliver my thoughts with my usual (albeit questionable) dry charm.  There’s no unifying theme except me – I believe that’s interesting to very few but it’s all I got.

That, and the stomach-ache.

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2011 in auto-biographical, Thoughts

 

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