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5.11.2008
You know the Google search box on Firefox? Of course you do because you're internet-savvy. You ain't no luddite, you. You're not using Internet Explorer like a douche, you're all about Firefox...or at least Opera.
Anyway, I've started leaving these clues for me to find the next time I open up my laptop. Today's clue was ROASTED POTATOES. Yesterday was FACE CLEAVAGE.
I think it's a murder mystery.
Anyway, I've started leaving these clues for me to find the next time I open up my laptop. Today's clue was ROASTED POTATOES. Yesterday was FACE CLEAVAGE.
I think it's a murder mystery.
I really need to get my life in order. More often than not, I come home, turn on the TV, and then just space out until I'm too tired to keep my eyes open. This is not something that I would usually do. Usually, I would come home, turn on the TV, and then DO something until I'm too tired to keep my eyes open. There's a subtle, yet important difference.
Part of the problem is the shambles that is my personal life has left me feeling very listless. I go in spurts of going out a lot (and by "a lot", I mean like 5 times a week), followed by a couple of weeks of keeping my head down and not answering the phone, and then back to going out a lot. All of it is empty and meaningless, however, which leaves me feeling even more listless, and killing small parts of what little is left of my soul.
I'm having trouble focusing on the things that I should be doing...other than work, that is. I'm putting in a good 50 hours/week at work for whatever that's really worth (other than distracting me, which is partially the point). So I'm thinking I need to get back into the habit of making Lists.
Lists are not something that you just enter into willy-nilly (yes, I went there), however. There are rules. Coincidentally, these rules are also in list-form"
Rules for Lists
Mostly.
Part of the problem is the shambles that is my personal life has left me feeling very listless. I go in spurts of going out a lot (and by "a lot", I mean like 5 times a week), followed by a couple of weeks of keeping my head down and not answering the phone, and then back to going out a lot. All of it is empty and meaningless, however, which leaves me feeling even more listless, and killing small parts of what little is left of my soul.
Bart, Pablo Neruda said, "Laughter is the language of the soul."
I am familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda.
I'm having trouble focusing on the things that I should be doing...other than work, that is. I'm putting in a good 50 hours/week at work for whatever that's really worth (other than distracting me, which is partially the point). So I'm thinking I need to get back into the habit of making Lists.
Lists are not something that you just enter into willy-nilly (yes, I went there), however. There are rules. Coincidentally, these rules are also in list-form"
Rules for Lists
1. Lists must have nearly achievable goals. CLEAN-OUT GARAGE is acceptable. SLEEP WITH JESSICA ALBA PRE-PREGNANCY is not.So, in my case, other than FIND WOMAN OF DREAMS, LIVE HAPPILY EVER-AFTER I have a number of things that I really should be doing these days. Not least of which is writing on this blog more often. It at least helps to keep my brain from drying out.
2. Lists may not contain minutiae. Things like BREATHE and FANTASIZE ABOUT JESSICA ALBA PRE-PREGNANCY are inevitable and near-constant. Therefore, they are not List-worthy
3. Lists must have ringers. Despite Rule #2, there should be a few things on the list that are semi-easily achievable. This will give you a sense of accomplishment and bolster you to tackle some of the harder items. GET HAIRCUT is a popular choice.
4. Lists must contain no more than 10 active items at one time. Because really, if you have more than 10 things on your List, what are you dicking around writing lists for?
Mostly.
5.07.2008
4.28.2008
One day I was at the bar between races and I saw this woman. God or somebody keeps creating women and tossing them out on the streets, and this one's ass is too big and this one's tits are too small, and this one is mad and that one is crazy and that ones is a religionist and that one reads teal leaves and this one can't control her farts, and that one has this big nose, and that one has boney legs...
But now and then, a woman walks up, full blossom, a woman just bursting out of her dress...a sex creature, a curse, the end of it all.
-Henry Chinaski aka Charles Bukowski
But now and then, a woman walks up, full blossom, a woman just bursting out of her dress...a sex creature, a curse, the end of it all.
-Henry Chinaski aka Charles Bukowski
4.26.2008
It's Saturday morning. Did you know that...that it's Saturday? Beautiful Saturday morning in beautiful southern California.
Well I didn't know it. I woke up this morning, bleary-eyed and a little confused. I'd been having a dream about my ex which made me simultaneously happy and sad, and now it was morning I thought. I rolled over, and saw that it was 6:38AM, which meant I could sleep another hour or so before I had to get up and take a shower and head in to work. We have a weekly Monday Morning Meeting at 9 and I didn't want to be late. I rolled over to my other side and woke up my laptop. My laptop which now sleeps next to me as a replacement for the non-existent girlfriend that used to be there (sigh), and checked my meeting schedule. Turns out I don't have any...BECAUSE IT'S SATURDAY.
I need a vacation.
Well I didn't know it. I woke up this morning, bleary-eyed and a little confused. I'd been having a dream about my ex which made me simultaneously happy and sad, and now it was morning I thought. I rolled over, and saw that it was 6:38AM, which meant I could sleep another hour or so before I had to get up and take a shower and head in to work. We have a weekly Monday Morning Meeting at 9 and I didn't want to be late. I rolled over to my other side and woke up my laptop. My laptop which now sleeps next to me as a replacement for the non-existent girlfriend that used to be there (sigh), and checked my meeting schedule. Turns out I don't have any...BECAUSE IT'S SATURDAY.
I need a vacation.
4.23.2008
I've decided that Netflix's "Watch Instantly" feature is god's gift to...me. Me, specifically. The NBC Video Rewind is pretty cool, too; but, with the commercial breaks (albeit short ones) it's only a lesser gift to me. Probably from Jesus, or maybe that cheapskate Gabriel. "Oh, do I have to bring a gift?" god's only son asked plaintively, "Well if I have to I'll provide today's episodes tomorrow...with a few commercials for the same thing over and over.
That's how they get you, you know. The deities, I mean.
That's how they get you, you know. The deities, I mean.
There are a few things in life that I'm fairly good at. I can, for instance, walk and chew bubble gum all at the same time. I'm a pretty competent Halo player. I've been known to drain a 3 with 5 seconds left on the clock with a wadded up piece of paper from all the way across my room.
I have skills.
I also, am pretty good at the fine art of conversation. A fact which continually surprises me as I'm strangely shy and have cripplingly low self-esteem.
My best friend in high school (up until, that is, he hated me for a still unclear reason that I think involved a girl, but I'm still not sure about) used to tell me that I had a silver tongue; and whenever he'd do so I imagined a small, vaguely tongue-shaped object in place of my actual tongue. Cold, shiny, and fast. For some reason, this silver-tongue was always too small for my mouth...why wouldn't I just imagine it being the same size as my real tongue, just all chromed and classy like?
I digress.
Highschool friend said I had a silver tongue. When I got to college, I got a reputation as an incorrigible flirt, and that continued into present day where I again have said reputation among my friends at work. I'm not afraid to talk to the big boss like he's a normal person and I can pull off the jokes at his expense that maybe most people can't. I was giving advice to a friend of mine about how to talk to this girl he likes and when I told him that it would work he said, "Well sure, YOU can pull something like that off, but I can't."
Here's the thing, though: for as much good the talking and the flirting and the dancing around have done me, they've done equally bad for me as well. If you think about it, what do I have to show for all my clever linguistic loops and witticisms? Maybe, just maybe, I need to learn to sometimes keep my damn mouth shut...
This public service announcement has been brought to you by...well, me.
I have skills.
I also, am pretty good at the fine art of conversation. A fact which continually surprises me as I'm strangely shy and have cripplingly low self-esteem.
My best friend in high school (up until, that is, he hated me for a still unclear reason that I think involved a girl, but I'm still not sure about) used to tell me that I had a silver tongue; and whenever he'd do so I imagined a small, vaguely tongue-shaped object in place of my actual tongue. Cold, shiny, and fast. For some reason, this silver-tongue was always too small for my mouth...why wouldn't I just imagine it being the same size as my real tongue, just all chromed and classy like?
I digress.
Highschool friend said I had a silver tongue. When I got to college, I got a reputation as an incorrigible flirt, and that continued into present day where I again have said reputation among my friends at work. I'm not afraid to talk to the big boss like he's a normal person and I can pull off the jokes at his expense that maybe most people can't. I was giving advice to a friend of mine about how to talk to this girl he likes and when I told him that it would work he said, "Well sure, YOU can pull something like that off, but I can't."
Here's the thing, though: for as much good the talking and the flirting and the dancing around have done me, they've done equally bad for me as well. If you think about it, what do I have to show for all my clever linguistic loops and witticisms? Maybe, just maybe, I need to learn to sometimes keep my damn mouth shut...
This public service announcement has been brought to you by...well, me.
4.06.2008
SoCal is all about the summer. The whole year is pretty much ideal, but the summer is especially so, and with each passing day it's getting close. But alas, it's not quite here, yet. The days are warm and sunny (60's), but the nights are fairly cold (low 50's).
I know I have a certain responsibility to now insert a paragraph giving a shout to all the people living in Michigan or Main or something, and say how I know it's not really cold in SoCal, and I'm just a whining baby. But today, I've decided to say to hell with that. Like everyone else here, I wasn't born in LA. I moved here by choice, and you have the same one. And what's more, if I took my rent with me to whatever part of cold-ass Wisconsin you're in, I'd be living in a mansion. So remember, I pay for the privilege of complaining about "cold" being 62F.
To continue, though, the water's still too cold to abandon the 3:2 full, but I'm really looking forward to it when it isn't. BBQ's every week, beach days, bike rides on the strand. There is no surer cure for depression.
I know I have a certain responsibility to now insert a paragraph giving a shout to all the people living in Michigan or Main or something, and say how I know it's not really cold in SoCal, and I'm just a whining baby. But today, I've decided to say to hell with that. Like everyone else here, I wasn't born in LA. I moved here by choice, and you have the same one. And what's more, if I took my rent with me to whatever part of cold-ass Wisconsin you're in, I'd be living in a mansion. So remember, I pay for the privilege of complaining about "cold" being 62F.
To continue, though, the water's still too cold to abandon the 3:2 full, but I'm really looking forward to it when it isn't. BBQ's every week, beach days, bike rides on the strand. There is no surer cure for depression.
4.05.2008
I've decided that "I'm hanging in there," is the most depressing answer possible to "How ya doing?".
Consider, you have the "I'm doing great!" people, who are depressing in their own right, but that's just the darkly comedic side of me talking. Then, you have the people who's house just burned down, or they got in their 4th car accident in 3 months (hmm, those sound familiar), and though they have gone through potentially depressing situations, the fact that they are able to complain about them, and voice them, proves that the situations are aberrant and temporary. Susie hasn't accepted that her fate is that of a person who's house has burned down. She's going to bitch about it until she's back on her feet.
But then there's the "hanging in there". There is grim acceptance in that phrase. There is no expectation of improvement, nor the means to do so. There is resignation. There is defeat. There is, if their is a positive spin to put on it, the just-barely strength in the statement to Death it's suicide, but that's about it.
Last week, I replied "Meh, I'm hanging in there," when asked what was up. Hopefully, the fact that I'm complaining about it now means that there's still some fight left in me.
Consider, you have the "I'm doing great!" people, who are depressing in their own right, but that's just the darkly comedic side of me talking. Then, you have the people who's house just burned down, or they got in their 4th car accident in 3 months (hmm, those sound familiar), and though they have gone through potentially depressing situations, the fact that they are able to complain about them, and voice them, proves that the situations are aberrant and temporary. Susie hasn't accepted that her fate is that of a person who's house has burned down. She's going to bitch about it until she's back on her feet.
But then there's the "hanging in there". There is grim acceptance in that phrase. There is no expectation of improvement, nor the means to do so. There is resignation. There is defeat. There is, if their is a positive spin to put on it, the just-barely strength in the statement to Death it's suicide, but that's about it.
Last week, I replied "Meh, I'm hanging in there," when asked what was up. Hopefully, the fact that I'm complaining about it now means that there's still some fight left in me.
3.29.2008