floorpie

Is it normal to start sweating profusely while cleaning your kitchen floor? I have a birthday coming up. I’ll be 34. I don’t feel like I’m in my mid-30’s but apparently my body sometimes thinks so.

I’d like to think I don’t look like I’m in my mid-30’s and that nobody thinks so, too.

I’m not much for working out, but I do exercise through activity and am in fairly good shape, I think. I probably can’t run as fast or as far as I could when I was 16; but I don’t need to rest going up a flight of stairs, either. I’m still confident enough to lift heavy objects over my head, and I’m not afraid of a long hike or bike ride. I have a few creaks, but they’re the same ones I’ve always had. So all in all, not too terrible, I think.

As the song goes, another day older and deeper in debt (except without the debt part). Let’s see what we get this year.

Writer David Foster Wallace found dead

David Foster Wallace, the novelist, essayist and humorist best known for his 1996 tome “Infinite Jest,” was found dead last night at his home in Claremont, according to the Claremont Police Department. He was 46.

Jackie Morales, a records clerk at the Claremont Police Department, said Wallace’s wife called police at 9:30 p.m. Friday saying she had returned home to find her husband had hanged himself.

This saddens me. I’m looking at the spine of Infinite Jest right now, and as much as I struggled through it, I also loved the ride it took me on. Why do so many authors commit suicide? John Kennedy O’Toole (asphyxiation), Ernest Hemingway (shotgun), Hunter S. Thompson (gunshot), Virginia Woolf (drowned), and on and on. Why does the introspection of writing often lead down such a dark path. Too soon, David Foster.

It finally happened. I was able, correctly, to use one of my favorite quotes in a sentence. It was even apropos.

So what if I got it off of Billy the Kid from Young Guns?

“There’s many a twist twixt a cup and a lip!”

That’s the greatest age difference that you’ve dated? I ask this question rhetorically, as there aren’t a statistically significant number of people reading this. I wonder why I say that like I care?

But I digress.

Age, has been said many times before, is just a number, and nothing seems to proved that more than the people that we align our lives with. Generally speaking, I usually find myself drawn to/drawn by people around my own age. In the past, this was likely due to the fact that there were vast differences between ages when I was younger. I mean, consider a fifteen year old compared to a 10 year old. Gross! But a 30 year old and a 25 year old? Not that big of a deal.

In my dating “career” I’ve been with someone as much as 10 years younger than me and, more recently, 8 years older. I’m not sure that I have a point other to illuminate the fact that even with a nearly 20-year wide window, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

How do you spell “supercede”? Probably like I just did with a “c”, and like me, you would be wrong! Apparently, “supercede” is the most commonly misspelled word today, and it is often found uncorrected in any number of books or reading materials.

Of course, the argument could be made that if society at large seems to agree on a common spelling then that should make it correct…but technically, the correct usage is: supersede.

And now you know.
And knowing is (say it with me) HALF THE BATTLE!

Places I’m going:

.: Monsters are Waiting @ the Getty – 08.29
.: The Melvins @ the Troubadour – 08.30
.: Nine Inch Nails @ the Fabulous Forum (it will always be the “Fabulous Forum” to me…go Lakers!) – 09.06
.: Does It Offend You, Yeah? @ the Troubadour – 09.22
.: The Kings of Leon @ the Nokia Theater – 10.15
.: Dr. Jack Daniels @ a bar near you – almost every night

I’m not even really sure what I’m saying. Sometimes in Life you meet people. You go out with them or you don’t. You have a connection or you don’t. Sometimes they are engaged, or have a boyfriend, or are just passing through your life. Other times they don’t.

It comes in waves with me. Long periods of time spent with one of those people followed by loss and long periods of downward spirals with loose moral character and questionable behaviour (but a hell of a lot of fun! [can you tell which period I’m in now?])…until the time when I meet one of those people that makes me want to be the best version of myself again.

Still haven’t found the one to motivate me out of my spiral, yet. Even better, the one to pull me out of my spiral for the last time. I thought I might have, but she was engaged, or had a boyfriend, or was just passing through my life. Which, somehow, is sadder than if she had never existed. Perhaps it’s the loss of possibility?

Up all night with a woman who’s not my wife. Or my girlfriend for that matter. Or anything other than just my friend, if truth be told. Every now and again I think it’s important to beat the night. To prove your independence and your power of will. You’re having a good time, and your body can’t stop you.

And when you stumble out into the dawn, the joggers get the full hilt of your laughter sword.

The sad things about updating your website are that:

.: you only have two people actually reading, and neither one of them cares
.: “updating” actually means “cleaning up”
.: “cleaning up” means spending hours tweaking code so that things look exactly like they did before you started. Except, you know, cleaner

So yeah, I changed things around a little bit.

Women that get to know me (as much as I allow that to be possible) often describe me as a “man’s-man”. I can fix anything, I build stuff, I drive a truck, have a deep voice, and strike an imposing figure with my smoldering good looks and chiseled jaw (OK, maybe not the last one).

Even so, I have a hard-time reconciling the moniker on days like today. Days where I hemmed two pairs of pants and patched some jeans. By myself. Using a sewing machine.

sigh

Using my sewing machine.