Today I've spent most of the day planning the upcoming project I'll be involved in at work. It's a beast and I have no budget or time to work with. But that sounds about right. I basically pushed everything off my desk except for a calendar and started marking like there was no tomorrow (although according to what's been set before me there are at least 12 or more months left). It's quite intimidating to see an entire year of your life sprawled out before you in a calculated chunk. I just wish it was a guarantee of employment for that long. I considered taking a cue from If Lucy Fell and painting a giant monthly countdownon the walls of my office, just so I'll always have the reminder blaring at me from all sides to stay on task. Course, the aesthetic of thick dark lines arranged like in modular fashion are are probably just asking for some bouts of jail-cell-vertigo.
I suppose I no longer have faith in the long term side of things. Events can happen that change your course at the drop of a dime. It's that ability to roll with it that I am lacking. So far my track record for finishing epic scale missions is abysmal. I like small events that I can finish in less than a day and see the results. But I rarely get those. Which is, I figure, a benefit of blogging. At least if I write about not accomplishing much that day...I've done at least as much as think about not doing much. Right? Bueller?
In other trivial news, Sayonara, Jessica. I certainly didn't expect it yet, but it's not surprising.
I could probably easily crush on the cute guy at Subway today. Soft spoken and a face good enough to reach over the counter and give him a kiss. But just on the cheek. Because he was extra nice. See what good customer service will get you? Um, a stalk..I mean..a happy customer. I'll just file him away under things that are adept at handling my sandwich. I'm also now beginning to notice other small things, like killer smiles and eyes worthy of daydreaming about. Ah, well. Perhaps something to look forward to in the far future. I've got other things to worry about right now.
I'm still having psychotic and vivid dreams. They aren't really nightmares, I'm not really petrified when i awake. Just feels like I haven't slept yet. I guess this is a form of internal payback. I am having an extremely difficult time getting over the fact that, I am still deeply attached to my wife. I have no other explanation for all the massive confusion that causes a unyielding ache in my chest. Does it really matter in the end what my sexual orientation is, that I am gay, if I am in love with someone who I fit with regardless of their gender? People learn to love each other all the time in impossible situations. It's the basis for the worst kind of tragedy but if in the end it all amounts to nothing, so what? I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered repressing it, going back to my closet and slamming the door again.
But the fact is, my lifestyle has a new pattern set in motion. Now that she does know I can't go back. If I look back now I risk the same demise as Lot's wife. Don't ever get involved with me. I guarantee it will not only break your heart and mine, but also stomp them into a mushy substance that could be used to lube your car.
Current Music for this Post: StreamingSoundtracks.com
Peace,
Simon
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
The New Order
This week marks the first week of the new "regular" routine. My wife started a new job Monday as did the boys a new preschool. Since we were trying to save money by not sending them to daycare, Mama worked at night and on weekends at the local video rental establishment. Suffice to say, her new job during the day pays significantly better and she doesn't have to push crap on ungrateful customers. Not that she wasn't superb at it. Most of her family have the natural abilities to sell just about anything to anyone. But anyways she likes it much better.
Because of this Monkey no. 2 wasn't in school at all so we had to find a new place that would take both of them all day. We actually kind of like this one a little better, but I think it was damn lucky we found one that was taking kids this late in the year. They like it pretty well. New lunch boxes were purchased (Elder=Spiderman Younger=Bob the Builder) upon which I promptly drew pictures of each of them. Handy Tip: Always marry into a family who used to run a hardware store because they'll know how to take permanent marker off of a metal lunch box without stripping the paint if you make a mistake.
Last night, for a brief time, our little family was together just like old times. I picked the monkeys up from preschool and they accompanied me to the gym. We ate dinner together, had a splashfest in the bathtub, and requisite Wrestlemania session in the lving room. Monkey No. 1 requested a song tonight in bed and fell right to sleep. Meanwhile, Monkey No. 2 wiggled and jabbered on while trying to stand on his head under the pillows. Business as usual. I think Rufus should write me a lullaby to sing.
...And Because I am a Sheep...
We even watched American Idol together now that I'm stupidly obsessed with it for this season. If I can avoid the hook from the beginning of any said show I am safe. But this (she and I both do this) is like the time she started watching the second season of Survivor and then we had to finish it. I can safely avoid most of these situations but AI is like the ultimate smorgasbord for those celibate on TV culture and pop music. Or crack. I've never tried it but I'm sure the addiction is similar.
For those of you who dig on this kind of thing, and since we are down to the top ten, here's my overly-geek, condensed "Simon Says" list, in order of their current standing in my mind based on last nights performances. (Um, yeah the name is just a coincidence by the way although I agree with him most of the time):
Peace,
Simon
Because of this Monkey no. 2 wasn't in school at all so we had to find a new place that would take both of them all day. We actually kind of like this one a little better, but I think it was damn lucky we found one that was taking kids this late in the year. They like it pretty well. New lunch boxes were purchased (Elder=Spiderman Younger=Bob the Builder) upon which I promptly drew pictures of each of them. Handy Tip: Always marry into a family who used to run a hardware store because they'll know how to take permanent marker off of a metal lunch box without stripping the paint if you make a mistake.
Last night, for a brief time, our little family was together just like old times. I picked the monkeys up from preschool and they accompanied me to the gym. We ate dinner together, had a splashfest in the bathtub, and requisite Wrestlemania session in the lving room. Monkey No. 1 requested a song tonight in bed and fell right to sleep. Meanwhile, Monkey No. 2 wiggled and jabbered on while trying to stand on his head under the pillows. Business as usual. I think Rufus should write me a lullaby to sing.
...And Because I am a Sheep...
We even watched American Idol together now that I'm stupidly obsessed with it for this season. If I can avoid the hook from the beginning of any said show I am safe. But this (she and I both do this) is like the time she started watching the second season of Survivor and then we had to finish it. I can safely avoid most of these situations but AI is like the ultimate smorgasbord for those celibate on TV culture and pop music. Or crack. I've never tried it but I'm sure the addiction is similar.
For those of you who dig on this kind of thing, and since we are down to the top ten, here's my overly-geek, condensed "Simon Says" list, in order of their current standing in my mind based on last nights performances. (Um, yeah the name is just a coincidence by the way although I agree with him most of the time):
- Nadia - You just rock. Most improved from last week and oozing with stage presence. I would love for you to win but I think your a little too eccentric for some fellow sheep.
- Carrie - Perhaps a little too perfect for my taste but when you sing, it's flawless. My predicted winner of the whole shebang.
- Vonzell - You continue to surprise me. Wasn't she the one who got on the wrong bus in LA?
- Nikko - I really wish I could distinguish R&B songs a bit more. You were indeed electric but I had to struggle to remember what you sang.
- Constantine - I can't put my finger on what it is I don't like. My wife said you kind of remind her of a child molester. (Unfortunately, I think I resemble you a bit in looks, voice, and song selection, so thanks for ruining any chance of my making it on the show :P.)
- Jessica - Good try girl. They're all rootin' for you down here in your hometown.
- Bo - I really like your style sir but I don't think you'll make it.
- Scott - Hmmmmmm, didn't you sing that last week?
- Anthony - I feel so bad for you, sir. You gave it a shot. Us nice guys gotta stick together.
- Anwar - Yikes. Sorry sir. I predict you or Anthony will be going.
Peace,
Simon
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Sandman's Poison
My dreams are becoming more frequent, intense and vivid than they've ever been before.
I can't remember everything that went on but the end to last nights was quite clear. I was back in school and my Japanese teacher told us to turn to page 75 in our books and read about Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends but instead was a series of primal cave illustrations about tigers and dogs. Then we started cleaning some old maze of a house. In the midst I came across a kneeling woman who was on the offensive, hurling clouds of dust and oil at me from under the carpet (and I think some spewed forth from her mouth as well). There was so much of it that I could feel it pierce my eyes, yet I still kept them open to see what was happening. Her insults were a blind flurry of hatred about random, odd things in the world that have nothing to do with me, but were my fault anyway. I can't remember all she said exactly. However, the snarl on her face and contempt for my life made me so enraged that I rushed to scream and strangle her. It was so intense that, for the first time I think, I woke up in a fit of anger, sitting in bed with my arms straight out in front of me, clenching my fists, holding onto thin, cold air as hard as possible and with my arms in extreme pain from the tension.
It was 3 AM again. As soon as I could breath again I tried to go back to sleep but I don't think I was too successful. Oh yeah I also had, um...quite a raging erection.
Blargh. What the hell is wrong with me?
May your dreams be more at peace than mine have been...
Simon
I can't remember everything that went on but the end to last nights was quite clear. I was back in school and my Japanese teacher told us to turn to page 75 in our books and read about Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends but instead was a series of primal cave illustrations about tigers and dogs. Then we started cleaning some old maze of a house. In the midst I came across a kneeling woman who was on the offensive, hurling clouds of dust and oil at me from under the carpet (and I think some spewed forth from her mouth as well). There was so much of it that I could feel it pierce my eyes, yet I still kept them open to see what was happening. Her insults were a blind flurry of hatred about random, odd things in the world that have nothing to do with me, but were my fault anyway. I can't remember all she said exactly. However, the snarl on her face and contempt for my life made me so enraged that I rushed to scream and strangle her. It was so intense that, for the first time I think, I woke up in a fit of anger, sitting in bed with my arms straight out in front of me, clenching my fists, holding onto thin, cold air as hard as possible and with my arms in extreme pain from the tension.
It was 3 AM again. As soon as I could breath again I tried to go back to sleep but I don't think I was too successful. Oh yeah I also had, um...quite a raging erection.
Blargh. What the hell is wrong with me?
May your dreams be more at peace than mine have been...
Simon
Monday, March 28, 2005
Ever Need a Vacation From Your Days of Rest?
I was working on this self absorbed, introspective mess of a post. But then I read it and chucked it. My life does not suck as much as it could and I need to get over it. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Oh yeah, monkeys!
Younger Monkey is kind of like a face-sucker alien. Usually his daily greeting when I walk in the door is "Upside-Down?" or "Climb?" because he knows daddy is a glutton for punishment like that. He likes to climb up any given person like he's braving Everest. He'll latch on like a psychotic koala cub and proceed to yank onto clothing and hair for dear life. To complete his ascension there is an attempt to stand up on the shoulders of said mountain (read: dad) bounce up and down and proclaim a wookie-esque victory grunt. It usually takes something akin to the jaws of life (read: mom) to pry him off. There is usually some pain on my behalf, you know, it's the loving kind of kick to the groin area. After which it's time to "Try again?" When he's not doing this he's usually swinging around some hapless toy with a device like the toy pliers (poor Kermit). He will either conquer or destroy the the world someday, I am sure of this.
In this respect, if Younger Monkey is the Mad Scientist meets Ghengis Kahn then Elder Monkey is probably more like Undercover Ninja meets Alexander the Great. Yesterday he built an intricate and beautiful city that stretched through most of the living room, something that resembled a lost ruin that has been submerged for centuries and suddenly excavated. Younger monkey kept trying to play Godzilla and knock it to pieces, so we tried to distract him with Play-Doh. Upon which Elder monkey was done building since Play-Doh was now present. He then brought a volcano to life complete with erupting lava flow which may or may not have something to do with the erratic destruction of said lost city.
I sent off a one time use camera that had been sitting around for a while. I just got back some new pictures of the boys in their Halloween costumes. From two years ago. Developing film is always an adventure. The usual protocol for a roll of film is to get used and then ferment for a while until we forget completely what's on them. I like unexpected pleasantries and since nothing really evokes shock or surprise in me much these days, this is usually a sure fire way to get a few. Because of this, I have not replaced this method with a digital camera. (Both grandpas have the digital side of things taken care of so I'm certainly not worried about NOT having enough pictures.) The monkey's are so damn cute sometimes I can't even believe they are mine. :)
Yesterday was Easter. Yeah. Don't have much to say about the spiritual/religious/commercial aspect of it. As I said before there is usually a gathering of some sort for every holiday and birthday. I was a little nervous since it was the first time the rest of her family has seen me, since all this went down. So I showed up near the end to try and stymie any weird vibes. It seemed to be okay, but again, I'm not good at reading other's outer shell. My dad came over and he seems to be getting over his odd behavior around me as well. Hope everyone had a pleasant weekend doing whatever it is you do on these kinds of holidays.
I've been remembering my dreams a lot more lately also. Last night was some story about a group of siblings trying to escape their house that had an abusive guardian. I couldn't tell if he/she was male or female but it kind of reminded me of a demonic Rosanne. But I'm happy to report that the refugees made it to the safety of some distant star.
Peace,
Simon
Current Posting Music: Toby Lightman: Little Things |
Younger Monkey is kind of like a face-sucker alien. Usually his daily greeting when I walk in the door is "Upside-Down?" or "Climb?" because he knows daddy is a glutton for punishment like that. He likes to climb up any given person like he's braving Everest. He'll latch on like a psychotic koala cub and proceed to yank onto clothing and hair for dear life. To complete his ascension there is an attempt to stand up on the shoulders of said mountain (read: dad) bounce up and down and proclaim a wookie-esque victory grunt. It usually takes something akin to the jaws of life (read: mom) to pry him off. There is usually some pain on my behalf, you know, it's the loving kind of kick to the groin area. After which it's time to "Try again?" When he's not doing this he's usually swinging around some hapless toy with a device like the toy pliers (poor Kermit). He will either conquer or destroy the the world someday, I am sure of this.
In this respect, if Younger Monkey is the Mad Scientist meets Ghengis Kahn then Elder Monkey is probably more like Undercover Ninja meets Alexander the Great. Yesterday he built an intricate and beautiful city that stretched through most of the living room, something that resembled a lost ruin that has been submerged for centuries and suddenly excavated. Younger monkey kept trying to play Godzilla and knock it to pieces, so we tried to distract him with Play-Doh. Upon which Elder monkey was done building since Play-Doh was now present. He then brought a volcano to life complete with erupting lava flow which may or may not have something to do with the erratic destruction of said lost city.
I sent off a one time use camera that had been sitting around for a while. I just got back some new pictures of the boys in their Halloween costumes. From two years ago. Developing film is always an adventure. The usual protocol for a roll of film is to get used and then ferment for a while until we forget completely what's on them. I like unexpected pleasantries and since nothing really evokes shock or surprise in me much these days, this is usually a sure fire way to get a few. Because of this, I have not replaced this method with a digital camera. (Both grandpas have the digital side of things taken care of so I'm certainly not worried about NOT having enough pictures.) The monkey's are so damn cute sometimes I can't even believe they are mine. :)
Yesterday was Easter. Yeah. Don't have much to say about the spiritual/religious/commercial aspect of it. As I said before there is usually a gathering of some sort for every holiday and birthday. I was a little nervous since it was the first time the rest of her family has seen me, since all this went down. So I showed up near the end to try and stymie any weird vibes. It seemed to be okay, but again, I'm not good at reading other's outer shell. My dad came over and he seems to be getting over his odd behavior around me as well. Hope everyone had a pleasant weekend doing whatever it is you do on these kinds of holidays.
I've been remembering my dreams a lot more lately also. Last night was some story about a group of siblings trying to escape their house that had an abusive guardian. I couldn't tell if he/she was male or female but it kind of reminded me of a demonic Rosanne. But I'm happy to report that the refugees made it to the safety of some distant star.
Peace,
Simon
Current Posting Music: Toby Lightman: Little Things |
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Blinded By Mr. Clean's Bald Spot
The weather has a direct influence on my mood and amount of work I get done at any given time. For some reason, even though it's raining today, I woke up, got to work early today and felt really upbeat. It's also like mid summer. The affliction that X-man put me through at the gym yesterday might have a hand in it. Push-ups and pull-ups to failure made me sore but remarkably energized. Hmmm, I did forget my happy pills though. Again. But it wouldn't be a proper day if I didn't leave something at home or work.
So upon arrival, I made breakfast for me and my office mate, El Scooby, and then proceeded to clean. On the occasion I do get inspired to clean, everyone should be advised to please move aside. Because you see, all the lack of tidying up is merely a chance to build up the proper inertia to unleash my Level 15 Cleaning Melee. On the weekly cleaning chores at work, if I clean the bathrooms you could probably eat off that toilet seat. Yes, even the side nobody bothers with because it's next to the wall and therefore has a nice buildup of urine and other fluids. I say, bring it on. Cleaned my desk, (I can see the surface again!) cleaned out my email that had been building up since January, and regroup with a new To-Do List for all the projects that I'm wading through. I do this about once every life changing event so I figured it was about due. Plus I couldn't see my computer monitors without engaging in some kind of Mission: Impossible type task.
My job requires a lot of organizational and planning skills. I'm not sure how I've made it this far. Actually, I do know. You know that "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." saying? Probably a big driving factor in why I have to take the happy pills these days. In my youth, it was piles and piles of paper, many with one tiny scribbling in the corner that I thought would be invaluable someday. Dissected Transformer parts (don't tell Grandma!). And we can't forget the cache of Sunday morning whole wheat toast hidden in the closet cause it tasted like it was GOOD FOR ME. My dad also had a habit of saving every shred of evidence that I had, in fact, existed. Every time I try and clean out those files the mold and dust go straight to my sinuses which I have to drain every 5 seconds. Thanks, Dad.
Now with all these newfangled computers I've evolved into a digital pack rat of the worst kind. E-mail from years ago, ridiculous quotes, useless trivia, random songs, unfinished projects, sketches and writings that remain in limbo, and the photos I meant to send out to relatives; It's all there in mass amounts. It is organized in a fashion that the untrained eye would gaze upon as chaos. It works for my brain but I don't attempt to explain it to anyone else. I feel sorry for any poor sap who would need to take my place though. Maybe along with a living will I should leave instructions on how to deal with my desktop. "Hi. If you are reading this, I'm not around anymore which means if you need anything off this hard drive here's what you need to do: 1) Open up any word processing program. 2) Type all the definitions of "screwed." 3) Add your name at the end, and submit it for the next version of the dictionary. Have a nice life!"
I am getting better though. It only took me a couple hours as opposed to a few days. There wasn't any indiscernible rotting plant life or fruit, unopened bills from six months ago, or that thing I was supposed to send to that guy in the place last month. It's happened before. I did find a flyer for a seminar on "How To Be A More Effective Project Leader Through Organization and Motivation." But I seem to have missed it already. What a shame.
Sometimes I'll find treasures I thought had been lost for eternity. It's classic me. I think I've lost and found my wallet, car keys, gym tag, the stylus for my tablet, my mind and other small things, at least once a month for the last decade. Speaking of which, I've been losing weight, which has in turn made me lose my wedding ring. It was there on my finger and then, well, it wasn't. I am afraid it's been washed down the shower drain or is now decoration for a mouse hovel. I can't even track back to a specific "When did I see it last?". I'm still crawling over the mountains of crap that are in my house (my next impending blitzkrieg) but I'm a bit pissed at myself for it. I suppose it's an omen or some kind of karma or whatever, but it still stings that it's suddenly just gone.
Peace,
Simon
So upon arrival, I made breakfast for me and my office mate, El Scooby, and then proceeded to clean. On the occasion I do get inspired to clean, everyone should be advised to please move aside. Because you see, all the lack of tidying up is merely a chance to build up the proper inertia to unleash my Level 15 Cleaning Melee. On the weekly cleaning chores at work, if I clean the bathrooms you could probably eat off that toilet seat. Yes, even the side nobody bothers with because it's next to the wall and therefore has a nice buildup of urine and other fluids. I say, bring it on. Cleaned my desk, (I can see the surface again!) cleaned out my email that had been building up since January, and regroup with a new To-Do List for all the projects that I'm wading through. I do this about once every life changing event so I figured it was about due. Plus I couldn't see my computer monitors without engaging in some kind of Mission: Impossible type task.
My job requires a lot of organizational and planning skills. I'm not sure how I've made it this far. Actually, I do know. You know that "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." saying? Probably a big driving factor in why I have to take the happy pills these days. In my youth, it was piles and piles of paper, many with one tiny scribbling in the corner that I thought would be invaluable someday. Dissected Transformer parts (don't tell Grandma!). And we can't forget the cache of Sunday morning whole wheat toast hidden in the closet cause it tasted like it was GOOD FOR ME. My dad also had a habit of saving every shred of evidence that I had, in fact, existed. Every time I try and clean out those files the mold and dust go straight to my sinuses which I have to drain every 5 seconds. Thanks, Dad.
Now with all these newfangled computers I've evolved into a digital pack rat of the worst kind. E-mail from years ago, ridiculous quotes, useless trivia, random songs, unfinished projects, sketches and writings that remain in limbo, and the photos I meant to send out to relatives; It's all there in mass amounts. It is organized in a fashion that the untrained eye would gaze upon as chaos. It works for my brain but I don't attempt to explain it to anyone else. I feel sorry for any poor sap who would need to take my place though. Maybe along with a living will I should leave instructions on how to deal with my desktop. "Hi. If you are reading this, I'm not around anymore which means if you need anything off this hard drive here's what you need to do: 1) Open up any word processing program. 2) Type all the definitions of "screwed." 3) Add your name at the end, and submit it for the next version of the dictionary. Have a nice life!"
I am getting better though. It only took me a couple hours as opposed to a few days. There wasn't any indiscernible rotting plant life or fruit, unopened bills from six months ago, or that thing I was supposed to send to that guy in the place last month. It's happened before. I did find a flyer for a seminar on "How To Be A More Effective Project Leader Through Organization and Motivation." But I seem to have missed it already. What a shame.
Sometimes I'll find treasures I thought had been lost for eternity. It's classic me. I think I've lost and found my wallet, car keys, gym tag, the stylus for my tablet, my mind and other small things, at least once a month for the last decade. Speaking of which, I've been losing weight, which has in turn made me lose my wedding ring. It was there on my finger and then, well, it wasn't. I am afraid it's been washed down the shower drain or is now decoration for a mouse hovel. I can't even track back to a specific "When did I see it last?". I'm still crawling over the mountains of crap that are in my house (my next impending blitzkrieg) but I'm a bit pissed at myself for it. I suppose it's an omen or some kind of karma or whatever, but it still stings that it's suddenly just gone.
Peace,
Simon
Monday, March 21, 2005
Time's a wastin'.
I'm stealing this from Matt via Googlism. Some of my favorites with unnecessary commentary:
simon is worthy of your vote - Could be.
simon is surprisingly strong - Should be.
simon is a god - Well, duh.
simon is - And you are.
simon is a game - beep, boop, beep, beep, bap, boop.
simon is smudge's brother - I alway's had a feeling...
simon is in the room - Do not disturb.
simon is still at play - Chuggachugga choo choo...
simon is ill - Beware of flying projectiles.
simon is easy - Who told you!?
simon is geboren deel twee - ...der flim is okey dokey.
simon is not like austin powers - Yeah baby!
simon is like austin powers - Yeah baby!
simon is a doofus candidate - Probably.
simon is missing in a layer of the abyss - Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
simon is terug - I think it's Dutch?
simon is the gladiator - Rock.
simon is at 35% - But space is filling up fast!
simon is hypocrital at times - No I'm not. I mean yes I am.
simon is still hot - So use potholders.
simon is a rock band and you're not - I knew that.
simon is a killer on the loose - I know where you live.
simon is not a well teddy - Send me presents.
simon is here - Dammit man, love me tender!
simon is home - No I'm not...
simon is a regular participant - Ahem.
simon is like - Buttah.
simon is not like - Michael Jackson.
simon is quick with his jab - Shazam!
simon is a megamillionaire - But I'm not sharing unless you're cute.
simon is not only a talented singer - But a baritone to boot.
simon is gone - Seeya.
simon is on cue - Of course.
simon is our first dog - Woof!
simon is clinical professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the george washington university in washington - Good god.
simon is kimberly - Indeed.
simon is not a walrus - CooCooKachoo
simon is a guy who just has too much time on his hands and chooses to spend it bothering people through the mail - You can't prove anything.
simon is laying hands on this man for healing - But I'm not dead yet!
simon is modular and is flexible to configure - I know you want me now.
simon is 18 - I hope not.
simon is the author of over 200 highly acclaimed science books - Wow, I impress even myself.
simon is even stronger and more featured filled than before - Bahahahaha!
simon is the wise colleague who needs to be on every curriculum committee - Because I have so much free time these days.
simon is shot - Through the heart and your to blame.
simon is told that jack has been put in charge of the website and simon is in charge of the genetic research - Yay!
simon is now - Word.
simon is er niet meer op woensdag 14 november 2001 is hij gestorven aan een maagkanteling - Note to self: add Dutch to list of languages to learn before I expire.
simon is a successful nebraska businessman with a strong record of creating jobs in the community - because I'm good like that.
simon is wealthy - In mind only...
simon is a character actor with extensive experience across the whole spectrum of the industry - Um, no thanks.
simon is a great composer in ambient/dub music too - Wow, I rock.
simon is more than just accommodation - At your service.
Peace,
Simon
(Warning: this PostScript is rated "R".)
Hmmm, I wonder what would happen if you typed "my cock" in Googlism...
simon is worthy of your vote - Could be.
simon is surprisingly strong - Should be.
simon is a god - Well, duh.
simon is - And you are.
simon is a game - beep, boop, beep, beep, bap, boop.
simon is smudge's brother - I alway's had a feeling...
simon is in the room - Do not disturb.
simon is still at play - Chuggachugga choo choo...
simon is ill - Beware of flying projectiles.
simon is easy - Who told you!?
simon is geboren deel twee - ...der flim is okey dokey.
simon is not like austin powers - Yeah baby!
simon is like austin powers - Yeah baby!
simon is a doofus candidate - Probably.
simon is missing in a layer of the abyss - Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
simon is terug - I think it's Dutch?
simon is the gladiator - Rock.
simon is at 35% - But space is filling up fast!
simon is hypocrital at times - No I'm not. I mean yes I am.
simon is still hot - So use potholders.
simon is a rock band and you're not - I knew that.
simon is a killer on the loose - I know where you live.
simon is not a well teddy - Send me presents.
simon is here - Dammit man, love me tender!
simon is home - No I'm not...
simon is a regular participant - Ahem.
simon is like - Buttah.
simon is not like - Michael Jackson.
simon is quick with his jab - Shazam!
simon is a megamillionaire - But I'm not sharing unless you're cute.
simon is not only a talented singer - But a baritone to boot.
simon is gone - Seeya.
simon is on cue - Of course.
simon is our first dog - Woof!
simon is clinical professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the george washington university in washington - Good god.
simon is kimberly - Indeed.
simon is not a walrus - CooCooKachoo
simon is a guy who just has too much time on his hands and chooses to spend it bothering people through the mail - You can't prove anything.
simon is laying hands on this man for healing - But I'm not dead yet!
simon is modular and is flexible to configure - I know you want me now.
simon is 18 - I hope not.
simon is the author of over 200 highly acclaimed science books - Wow, I impress even myself.
simon is even stronger and more featured filled than before - Bahahahaha!
simon is the wise colleague who needs to be on every curriculum committee - Because I have so much free time these days.
simon is shot - Through the heart and your to blame.
simon is told that jack has been put in charge of the website and simon is in charge of the genetic research - Yay!
simon is now - Word.
simon is er niet meer op woensdag 14 november 2001 is hij gestorven aan een maagkanteling - Note to self: add Dutch to list of languages to learn before I expire.
simon is a successful nebraska businessman with a strong record of creating jobs in the community - because I'm good like that.
simon is wealthy - In mind only...
simon is a character actor with extensive experience across the whole spectrum of the industry - Um, no thanks.
simon is a great composer in ambient/dub music too - Wow, I rock.
simon is more than just accommodation - At your service.
Peace,
Simon
(Warning: this PostScript is rated "R".)
Hmmm, I wonder what would happen if you typed "my cock" in Googlism...
Chromeplated Raindrops
(...are nowhere in this post.)
Music at the start of the post: She Don't Use Jelly : Ben Folds Five (cover of the Flaming Lips) : Lounge-a-Palooza. It gives me happy little thoughts whenever I hear it.
Other than that, I'm stuffy and my eyes are itchy. While the orange blossoms don't get to me so much (I don't think) since everything else is now spawning it's spores I can't breath at the moment. I guess that's what you get for living in the jungles of the southern states. My car has been plastered in pollen for the last week.
I don't feel compelled to give an opinion on the whole Terri Schiavo debacle, other than it's going down in my neck of the woods so I can't get away from it. I'm not in their situation and I don't know the details and people involved. How can anyone make a judgment on something like that? However, I anticipate the popularity of living wills shall be on the up in the near future. I may look into one myself. I've been meaning to set something up to donate my body to science, anyway. If my remains are sufficiently intact when I expire (I mean, we can't ALL be doomed to the fate of Sarlacc ingestion, right?) by all means, I hope they put it to good use. For spare parts, research, fertilizer, or whatever. Something other than taking up all that ridiculous space in a grave!
I wasn't sure how to spell Sarlacc so I looked it up, mainly to avoid any fanboy's ultimate wrath. I initially only used one "c" when googling and came up with the acronym for the South Australian Rock Lobster Advisory Council. And it's also a yak. Anyways, I looked up Schiavo also just to be sure, it's equally sad that people can't get her name right. I get aggravated enough when people can't get my own name right when it's not even that complicated.
Don't you feel better now? Because knowing is half the battle.
Music to end the post: Salata Rodena : The Toids. Get your funky Balkan groove on.
Peace,
Simon
Music at the start of the post: She Don't Use Jelly : Ben Folds Five (cover of the Flaming Lips) : Lounge-a-Palooza. It gives me happy little thoughts whenever I hear it.
Other than that, I'm stuffy and my eyes are itchy. While the orange blossoms don't get to me so much (I don't think) since everything else is now spawning it's spores I can't breath at the moment. I guess that's what you get for living in the jungles of the southern states. My car has been plastered in pollen for the last week.
I don't feel compelled to give an opinion on the whole Terri Schiavo debacle, other than it's going down in my neck of the woods so I can't get away from it. I'm not in their situation and I don't know the details and people involved. How can anyone make a judgment on something like that? However, I anticipate the popularity of living wills shall be on the up in the near future. I may look into one myself. I've been meaning to set something up to donate my body to science, anyway. If my remains are sufficiently intact when I expire (I mean, we can't ALL be doomed to the fate of Sarlacc ingestion, right?) by all means, I hope they put it to good use. For spare parts, research, fertilizer, or whatever. Something other than taking up all that ridiculous space in a grave!
I wasn't sure how to spell Sarlacc so I looked it up, mainly to avoid any fanboy's ultimate wrath. I initially only used one "c" when googling and came up with the acronym for the South Australian Rock Lobster Advisory Council. And it's also a yak. Anyways, I looked up Schiavo also just to be sure, it's equally sad that people can't get her name right. I get aggravated enough when people can't get my own name right when it's not even that complicated.
Don't you feel better now? Because knowing is half the battle.
Music to end the post: Salata Rodena : The Toids. Get your funky Balkan groove on.
Peace,
Simon
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Tiny Planets
The latest infatuation the monkeys have is a show called Tiny Planets. It features a pair of inquisitive fuzzy fellows who go flying off into space on an equally fuzzy couch, exploring different planets to learn about sound, technology, nature, etc. Oh yeah and electronic dance music. It reminds me of something I might have come up with given the proper drug...er...motivation. The littler one, Bong, is temperamental, silly and makes high pitch squealing sounds. The bigger one, Bing, is a little more mellow and organized and has a bag out of which he pulls unbelievably sized nifty contraptions (like Mary Poppins carpet bag). If there was ever a show my monkeys could relate with it would be this one.
We were watching it last night before bed and much bouncing and giggling ensued. Given the way kids innocently mispronounce words, you'd think that they could have thought of a better name for their alien neighbors besides "flockers".
I dig it because it shows them brushing their teeth as part of the nightly ritual. Elder monkey has been putting up a struggle when it's that time. He'll be careening off the walls and then I say those magic words he becomes instant comatose dead weight. With the knowledge that he won't be going to bed without brushing his teeth. It's so extremely pathetic but a clever last ditch attempt to stay up. Nice try buddy-boy get your butt in there and brush those choppers. I just can't wait for his first dentist visit (shudder). Younger monkey seems to be taking it in stride. He just won't stay in bed afterwards.
When I got them to bed, one of those nature movies on Hi-Def TV was on. And all of the sudden the planet didn't seem all that tiny, but I sure did.
Peace,
Simon
We were watching it last night before bed and much bouncing and giggling ensued. Given the way kids innocently mispronounce words, you'd think that they could have thought of a better name for their alien neighbors besides "flockers".
I dig it because it shows them brushing their teeth as part of the nightly ritual. Elder monkey has been putting up a struggle when it's that time. He'll be careening off the walls and then I say those magic words he becomes instant comatose dead weight. With the knowledge that he won't be going to bed without brushing his teeth. It's so extremely pathetic but a clever last ditch attempt to stay up. Nice try buddy-boy get your butt in there and brush those choppers. I just can't wait for his first dentist visit (shudder). Younger monkey seems to be taking it in stride. He just won't stay in bed afterwards.
When I got them to bed, one of those nature movies on Hi-Def TV was on. And all of the sudden the planet didn't seem all that tiny, but I sure did.
Peace,
Simon
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Dream State
I actually went to bed on time last night. But I may as well not have.
I had a bizarre dream, it's already fading fast, but I remember the end was very tragic. I don't even know who the people were, but think of some unknown cast from a sci-fi channel movie. There was an escape to get back to some home through a portal but in order to do so a brave female engineer stayed behind to ensure the door remained open. She suffered a horrible fate of burning to death in volcanic heat, but we weren't in a volcano. There was no screaming or crying. She simply stood in one place as the door shut with a wrench in her hand now past it's usefulness. Her figure became a slow melting form, like that of a baby doll thrown into an oven. There wasn't any ash but her name was somehow etched in the spot where she withered away. I couldn't read what it said.
I get these kind of dreams every couple years. I remember one that I kept shrinking into the seat of my childhood car until I was down to the microscopic level (but woke up before shrinking into nothingness). When I wake up from them, I can't move. I am literally frozen in fear. Every muscle is rigid. It was around 3:30 in the morning so it wasn't time for anyone to be on the busy road near our house. I can hear crickets and cats, the setting in of the morning fog and the hum of other nightly oddities that aren't noticeable during waking hours. Every little creak in the house keeps me paralyzed even further. I look over to make sure my wife is okay. I became extremely scared. Had something happened that she hadn't come home? It took me a few minutes to figure out why she wasn't there. Didn't really sleep the rest of the night.
I'm kinda tired this morning.
Peace,
Simon
I had a bizarre dream, it's already fading fast, but I remember the end was very tragic. I don't even know who the people were, but think of some unknown cast from a sci-fi channel movie. There was an escape to get back to some home through a portal but in order to do so a brave female engineer stayed behind to ensure the door remained open. She suffered a horrible fate of burning to death in volcanic heat, but we weren't in a volcano. There was no screaming or crying. She simply stood in one place as the door shut with a wrench in her hand now past it's usefulness. Her figure became a slow melting form, like that of a baby doll thrown into an oven. There wasn't any ash but her name was somehow etched in the spot where she withered away. I couldn't read what it said.
I get these kind of dreams every couple years. I remember one that I kept shrinking into the seat of my childhood car until I was down to the microscopic level (but woke up before shrinking into nothingness). When I wake up from them, I can't move. I am literally frozen in fear. Every muscle is rigid. It was around 3:30 in the morning so it wasn't time for anyone to be on the busy road near our house. I can hear crickets and cats, the setting in of the morning fog and the hum of other nightly oddities that aren't noticeable during waking hours. Every little creak in the house keeps me paralyzed even further. I look over to make sure my wife is okay. I became extremely scared. Had something happened that she hadn't come home? It took me a few minutes to figure out why she wasn't there. Didn't really sleep the rest of the night.
I'm kinda tired this morning.
Peace,
Simon
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Chicken and Other Quandaries of the Universe
Update: I've updated this post a bit because the more I kept thinking about it, more relevant thoughts kept piling up and hopefully it's a little clearer now...
Among other life altering events in the past weeks, I've got one more to throw out there. I'm kinda feeling around for comments on this one. I'm not a scientist, politician or economist. With that said...
I've been a vegetarian for about eight years (I think). It started sometime after I came home from college. I don't recall what the defining moment was that I decided to stop eating meat. Probably had to do with being around my mom and sis and their activism for animal rights. It seemed noble enough of a cause and I didn't have anything to lose. But I was also so far mentally down the drain at that point it was just something to do instead of an active change in lifestyle. Or maybe, I'd seen Bambi one too many times.
I did notice a few things after time. I don't have as many severe allergies and sickness that I did when I was younger. I did lose weight but also went way down in my energy level. I couldn't give blood anymore because I kept coming too close to passing out when I tried, guess my blood thinned too much. I even tried going vegan for about a week, but that was a disaster. As uber-trendy as it sounds, I wasn't a health-minded vegetarian until I started going to the gym and discovering I was lacking lots of vitamins and protein and still inhaling lots of processed crap.
So since then I've been trying to eat better. Or at least what is perceived as better. And that may entail eating some chicken in the near future. Lest you think I've thrown all caution to the wind, I've still set some boundaries: I don't support factory farming, I want to buy locally and organic, and most importantly I will not fall prey to that American past time of over-consumption! As far as I can tell we don't have the same environments and body functions that primal times previously shaped and we inevitably change with the eras. But I'm not convinced that the modern way of producing food is working. It makes me queasy to think that what I am eating is not in fact what I am eating. Fish genes in tomatoes? Bug genes in plants? That certainly wasn't possible centuries ago. Was it? There is the psychological side to consider, maybe I've just tricked my mind into thinking eating better is equal to feeling better and therefore, I do.
For a while my wife was a vegetarian, but then she got pregnant and we didn't feel it was safe for nutritional reasons. My kids also are not vegetarian. Not from any lack of research about it, mind you. That needs to be a personal decision when they are old enough to decide for themselves. Hopefully they won't have as hard a time figuring out as I. Sometimes I think perhaps there is such a thing as too much information. I even was reading about blood types having to do with diet (and that consequently I should be a rabid carnivore since my ancestors of O-neg blood were hunters?). I just get confused. Who do you believe? As much as people talk about feeling "in tune" with their body, I don't think I've ever experienced what that feels like.
I'm also conflicted about buying what is considered "yuppie food." At least in this part of the country. Seems like the only places I can really find free range, hormone-free chicken or organic vegetables around here is health food stores and upscale grocery stores, which don't exactly fall in line with the average Joe's price range (which is mine). It does frustrate me, I want to be able to raise my kids this way but it's often out of my reach. Children are more susceptible in their developing years and of course I want to provide the best that I can. My idealism constantly clashes with practicality in this regard. There's also something in my mind about teaching people to empower themselves to raise their own food in an effective manner but that's another discussion entirely. I'm too much of a spoiled city boy to know what I'm talking about there.
Essentials of survival aside, we've cultivated food to be a great aspect of our human experience. It can cause equal portions of pleasure and pain. It defines cultures. People seek it out like they seek shelter or sex or success or companionship and falls under the same degrees of balance as those things do. You can take it to extremes. When I hear the word "crave" (to describe anything not just food) it gives me a visceral sensation to my taste buds and stomach. I'm craving the knowledge to know how to eat the right way. Oof, my tummy is grumbling.
So yet again it comes down to the selfish reasons for doing anything. I've been testing out eating chicken this week, and since I've been getting the extra protein boost, I have been feeling more energetic and able to be stronger in my tasks. To be more of the supportive person that is necessary right now for monkey wrangling and concentration. I don't think I've actually ever been opposed to the idea of eating meat for basic nutrition where it is necessary. My best buddy Adam eats primarily meat because he is allergic to lots of things, like dairy and soy. My mom actually had to start eating chicken lately unwillingly because she's having digestive problems with soy and meat alternatives. And my dad has about three things he actually can eat without feeling like an utter piece of crap later, chicken being one of them. Are these things an affect of how we've made developed our world food supply or simply given how genetics works, am I just setting my self up for the fate of nutritional failure like my parents?
So, for me, is it more effective to promote good farming practices by my protest of not eating chicken or instead to partake of some that has been raised in a humane and ecological sensitive manner? Is my goal of building muscle mass a health issue or simply a method of falling victim to masculine vanity? I suppose that's based on the person. Being healthy looking is indeed an attractive. It must derive from the survival instincts to attract a mate and then reproduce equally healthy kids and continue on the species. If that's true, perhaps homosexuality has become more prevalant as a natural way of overall population control. Then again, it obviously didn't work in my case and there are many gay couples out there with a "biological clock" so to speak. But it's so skewed these days as to what looks healthy. As much as I enjoy being able to tighten my belt a few notches and sport more bulging biceps, I can easily see myself falling into that trap. Plastic surgery, liposuction, botox? Ugh. I can understand cases where it's life or death, but I don't think "beauty surgery" is all that healthy for your mind. it's not a route I see myself taking in my life either.
Since I have unsteady religious convictions, but I'm not intelligent enough to claim science as my higher power either, I can't accept those rationalities fully. If it exists, what is the difference between the soul of a chicken and that of our own? Is it simply the lack of communication with these beasts that drives ignorant bliss in our our relationship with them? Where does moral responsibility come from or are we merely groping around with blinders on? It leaves me with more questions than I can find acceptable answers for! If the soul of a chicken must be sacrificed in order to do this, I suppose that is the order of things. I've also heard the argument that plants are living things as well. I am not a plant so I couldn't tell you. But I'm also not a chicken or a cow. And if someday the chickens and cows and plants take the upper hand on the food chain then it might be karma coming back to us in spades and I'll meet you in the holding pens.
Wow that went on much longer than I expected. And it's way past lunch time.
Peace,
Simon
Among other life altering events in the past weeks, I've got one more to throw out there. I'm kinda feeling around for comments on this one. I'm not a scientist, politician or economist. With that said...
I've been a vegetarian for about eight years (I think). It started sometime after I came home from college. I don't recall what the defining moment was that I decided to stop eating meat. Probably had to do with being around my mom and sis and their activism for animal rights. It seemed noble enough of a cause and I didn't have anything to lose. But I was also so far mentally down the drain at that point it was just something to do instead of an active change in lifestyle. Or maybe, I'd seen Bambi one too many times.
I did notice a few things after time. I don't have as many severe allergies and sickness that I did when I was younger. I did lose weight but also went way down in my energy level. I couldn't give blood anymore because I kept coming too close to passing out when I tried, guess my blood thinned too much. I even tried going vegan for about a week, but that was a disaster. As uber-trendy as it sounds, I wasn't a health-minded vegetarian until I started going to the gym and discovering I was lacking lots of vitamins and protein and still inhaling lots of processed crap.
So since then I've been trying to eat better. Or at least what is perceived as better. And that may entail eating some chicken in the near future. Lest you think I've thrown all caution to the wind, I've still set some boundaries: I don't support factory farming, I want to buy locally and organic, and most importantly I will not fall prey to that American past time of over-consumption! As far as I can tell we don't have the same environments and body functions that primal times previously shaped and we inevitably change with the eras. But I'm not convinced that the modern way of producing food is working. It makes me queasy to think that what I am eating is not in fact what I am eating. Fish genes in tomatoes? Bug genes in plants? That certainly wasn't possible centuries ago. Was it? There is the psychological side to consider, maybe I've just tricked my mind into thinking eating better is equal to feeling better and therefore, I do.
For a while my wife was a vegetarian, but then she got pregnant and we didn't feel it was safe for nutritional reasons. My kids also are not vegetarian. Not from any lack of research about it, mind you. That needs to be a personal decision when they are old enough to decide for themselves. Hopefully they won't have as hard a time figuring out as I. Sometimes I think perhaps there is such a thing as too much information. I even was reading about blood types having to do with diet (and that consequently I should be a rabid carnivore since my ancestors of O-neg blood were hunters?). I just get confused. Who do you believe? As much as people talk about feeling "in tune" with their body, I don't think I've ever experienced what that feels like.
I'm also conflicted about buying what is considered "yuppie food." At least in this part of the country. Seems like the only places I can really find free range, hormone-free chicken or organic vegetables around here is health food stores and upscale grocery stores, which don't exactly fall in line with the average Joe's price range (which is mine). It does frustrate me, I want to be able to raise my kids this way but it's often out of my reach. Children are more susceptible in their developing years and of course I want to provide the best that I can. My idealism constantly clashes with practicality in this regard. There's also something in my mind about teaching people to empower themselves to raise their own food in an effective manner but that's another discussion entirely. I'm too much of a spoiled city boy to know what I'm talking about there.
Essentials of survival aside, we've cultivated food to be a great aspect of our human experience. It can cause equal portions of pleasure and pain. It defines cultures. People seek it out like they seek shelter or sex or success or companionship and falls under the same degrees of balance as those things do. You can take it to extremes. When I hear the word "crave" (to describe anything not just food) it gives me a visceral sensation to my taste buds and stomach. I'm craving the knowledge to know how to eat the right way. Oof, my tummy is grumbling.
So yet again it comes down to the selfish reasons for doing anything. I've been testing out eating chicken this week, and since I've been getting the extra protein boost, I have been feeling more energetic and able to be stronger in my tasks. To be more of the supportive person that is necessary right now for monkey wrangling and concentration. I don't think I've actually ever been opposed to the idea of eating meat for basic nutrition where it is necessary. My best buddy Adam eats primarily meat because he is allergic to lots of things, like dairy and soy. My mom actually had to start eating chicken lately unwillingly because she's having digestive problems with soy and meat alternatives. And my dad has about three things he actually can eat without feeling like an utter piece of crap later, chicken being one of them. Are these things an affect of how we've made developed our world food supply or simply given how genetics works, am I just setting my self up for the fate of nutritional failure like my parents?
So, for me, is it more effective to promote good farming practices by my protest of not eating chicken or instead to partake of some that has been raised in a humane and ecological sensitive manner? Is my goal of building muscle mass a health issue or simply a method of falling victim to masculine vanity? I suppose that's based on the person. Being healthy looking is indeed an attractive. It must derive from the survival instincts to attract a mate and then reproduce equally healthy kids and continue on the species. If that's true, perhaps homosexuality has become more prevalant as a natural way of overall population control. Then again, it obviously didn't work in my case and there are many gay couples out there with a "biological clock" so to speak. But it's so skewed these days as to what looks healthy. As much as I enjoy being able to tighten my belt a few notches and sport more bulging biceps, I can easily see myself falling into that trap. Plastic surgery, liposuction, botox? Ugh. I can understand cases where it's life or death, but I don't think "beauty surgery" is all that healthy for your mind. it's not a route I see myself taking in my life either.
Since I have unsteady religious convictions, but I'm not intelligent enough to claim science as my higher power either, I can't accept those rationalities fully. If it exists, what is the difference between the soul of a chicken and that of our own? Is it simply the lack of communication with these beasts that drives ignorant bliss in our our relationship with them? Where does moral responsibility come from or are we merely groping around with blinders on? It leaves me with more questions than I can find acceptable answers for! If the soul of a chicken must be sacrificed in order to do this, I suppose that is the order of things. I've also heard the argument that plants are living things as well. I am not a plant so I couldn't tell you. But I'm also not a chicken or a cow. And if someday the chickens and cows and plants take the upper hand on the food chain then it might be karma coming back to us in spades and I'll meet you in the holding pens.
Wow that went on much longer than I expected. And it's way past lunch time.
Peace,
Simon
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
It spreads like a virus...
Best new blog I've read lately: curls on the side
Okay, okay I'm slightly biased cause she's related but still. Go there now and read all of it. She's much more interesting than I am and uses the word "sciolist" knowing what it means. Yes, I did have to look it up. :)
Peace,
Simon
Okay, okay I'm slightly biased cause she's related but still. Go there now and read all of it. She's much more interesting than I am and uses the word "sciolist" knowing what it means. Yes, I did have to look it up. :)
Peace,
Simon
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Time For A Change
Tonight, I am alone in my house. It's not the first time, however, my wife and monkeys will be sleeping under another familiar roof from this day forward.
We told our sons this morning what would be happening, so they didn't start freaking out that their bed and dresser full of clothes were being expelled into the wilderness. Elder Monkey J was not really puzzled and actually a little excited, because it's not someplace new, it's "Grandma and Grandpa's? I'll be sleeping there? All the time? Really?" But, somehow I expected this. I am glad of all places they have somewhere to go that is still a loving home that is a comfortable house. Younger Monkey GB could care less about where he is right now, just that he's got food and his toys to terrorize. Plus there is Noggin and Finding Nemo on a gigantic widescreen TV so who wouldn't want to live there.
The rest of the family (on her side) is having a birthday party this evening, but I won't be going with them. That's okay though. It's the first gathering since all this went down and I suppose there is a certain "protocol" in order when this kind of thing happens. Just like my unrealistic desire for us to still live together, I don't wonder what is going through anyone's particular thoughts anymore, but my dad-in-law sure seems like he's gotten some grey hairs I never saw before in the last week. My own dad is very hard to read right now, he and his wife come over and help out watching the boys, but I can't tell what he's thinking at all. It's like talking to someone in a state of waking sleep. Here's hoping I can venture forth as a helper, like I used to be at the beginning of our married relationship, and not a hinderance.
Oh, yeah. The first thing I did tonight when I got home. Turned the oven on to make some dinner and forgot there were dishes that were hidden inside about a week ago until we could get to washing them. I probably lost some minutes off my life from those fumes. I can't even tell what it was. In it's place is now a technicolor blob that has successfully melded through the grates to cause some kind of monstrous plastic pop art gone wrong. The blender was in there too, but it's plastic parts were constructed of sterner stuff and is still in working order. (Yay!)
So now I am sitting here in the early evening, staring out the open door and windows, feeling a breeze that is hopefully carrying away the rotten odors of stinking cookware and singed lives out into the atmosphere. It reminds me of the day I started writing this blog. The weather was very much the same, the same lazy attitude that seeped through, and the same sun warming the afternoon.
This makes me ponder the fate of this blog. Things moved much, much faster than I ever anticipated they would. Do I continue under this title or do I begin again without the "secret" alias to hide behind. The only thing that is hidden anymore is the name by which I am more commonly known. There is a certain romantic quality to having a pen name and I do have some sentimental attachment now. But I was reading through the last few weeks, all those days charged with uncertain emotion and was struck by some of my delusions. Most of all, how could I have ever thought that we would logically stay together? Perhaps it is best to consider a redesign to this thing at the very minimum. I'll have to dwell on that one...
As I finish writing this, my wife called to tell me everything was good at the party. They all loved the guacamole I made for them, which is more than likely their special way of saying "We don't hate you!" aside from the fact that they all have an affinity for good food. And I bade my monkeys good night for the evening with as boisterous a voice as I could muster. Silly monkeys, go to bed.
Peace,
Simon
P.S. Since I was quite physically ill earlier this week (and just a bit mentally exhausted), the post preceding this one is my valid attempt at something more interesting than l what I really wanted to write at the time: "I am sick and have puked out all the food I ate yesterday and am fighting a fever and I think I maybe had some whey/egg/soy protein powder that was rancid and tasted like puke which might have caused the after-puke and it's freaking cold and rainy outside so I'm in malfunction mode all day and don't you feel sorry for me now. Have a nice appetizing day." Of course, i think some of you actually like that sort of thing, who knows. :)
We told our sons this morning what would be happening, so they didn't start freaking out that their bed and dresser full of clothes were being expelled into the wilderness. Elder Monkey J was not really puzzled and actually a little excited, because it's not someplace new, it's "Grandma and Grandpa's? I'll be sleeping there? All the time? Really?" But, somehow I expected this. I am glad of all places they have somewhere to go that is still a loving home that is a comfortable house. Younger Monkey GB could care less about where he is right now, just that he's got food and his toys to terrorize. Plus there is Noggin and Finding Nemo on a gigantic widescreen TV so who wouldn't want to live there.
The rest of the family (on her side) is having a birthday party this evening, but I won't be going with them. That's okay though. It's the first gathering since all this went down and I suppose there is a certain "protocol" in order when this kind of thing happens. Just like my unrealistic desire for us to still live together, I don't wonder what is going through anyone's particular thoughts anymore, but my dad-in-law sure seems like he's gotten some grey hairs I never saw before in the last week. My own dad is very hard to read right now, he and his wife come over and help out watching the boys, but I can't tell what he's thinking at all. It's like talking to someone in a state of waking sleep. Here's hoping I can venture forth as a helper, like I used to be at the beginning of our married relationship, and not a hinderance.
Oh, yeah. The first thing I did tonight when I got home. Turned the oven on to make some dinner and forgot there were dishes that were hidden inside about a week ago until we could get to washing them. I probably lost some minutes off my life from those fumes. I can't even tell what it was. In it's place is now a technicolor blob that has successfully melded through the grates to cause some kind of monstrous plastic pop art gone wrong. The blender was in there too, but it's plastic parts were constructed of sterner stuff and is still in working order. (Yay!)
So now I am sitting here in the early evening, staring out the open door and windows, feeling a breeze that is hopefully carrying away the rotten odors of stinking cookware and singed lives out into the atmosphere. It reminds me of the day I started writing this blog. The weather was very much the same, the same lazy attitude that seeped through, and the same sun warming the afternoon.
This makes me ponder the fate of this blog. Things moved much, much faster than I ever anticipated they would. Do I continue under this title or do I begin again without the "secret" alias to hide behind. The only thing that is hidden anymore is the name by which I am more commonly known. There is a certain romantic quality to having a pen name and I do have some sentimental attachment now. But I was reading through the last few weeks, all those days charged with uncertain emotion and was struck by some of my delusions. Most of all, how could I have ever thought that we would logically stay together? Perhaps it is best to consider a redesign to this thing at the very minimum. I'll have to dwell on that one...
As I finish writing this, my wife called to tell me everything was good at the party. They all loved the guacamole I made for them, which is more than likely their special way of saying "We don't hate you!" aside from the fact that they all have an affinity for good food. And I bade my monkeys good night for the evening with as boisterous a voice as I could muster. Silly monkeys, go to bed.
Peace,
Simon
P.S. Since I was quite physically ill earlier this week (and just a bit mentally exhausted), the post preceding this one is my valid attempt at something more interesting than l what I really wanted to write at the time: "I am sick and have puked out all the food I ate yesterday and am fighting a fever and I think I maybe had some whey/egg/soy protein powder that was rancid and tasted like puke which might have caused the after-puke and it's freaking cold and rainy outside so I'm in malfunction mode all day and don't you feel sorry for me now. Have a nice appetizing day." Of course, i think some of you actually like that sort of thing, who knows. :)
Friday, March 04, 2005
Little Lights
Be wary,
There are phantoms afoot.
They postulate deranged designs
Swirled together in a soporific spectacle
Advocating all perforated forms of hallucinations
And idling in the gargantua's dance of fortune and fancy.
The tiny grail collects their simple measures
Each bar indented in it's chorded interval
Trailing the steeples and stained glass
And curing clemency of it's faulty curiosity.
Practitioners of fettered orbs
Retinas steaming, clattered in the streams
Their sumptuous blood boils in voracious clouds
While lovely cacophony awaits birth among the clandestine zephyrs.
When they depart that carapace
That vellum in which vivid life and friction collide
The vapors will settle into it's sheath
And once again know that they are at home.
Be kind,
There are phantoms afoot.
There are phantoms afoot.
They postulate deranged designs
Swirled together in a soporific spectacle
Advocating all perforated forms of hallucinations
And idling in the gargantua's dance of fortune and fancy.
The tiny grail collects their simple measures
Each bar indented in it's chorded interval
Trailing the steeples and stained glass
And curing clemency of it's faulty curiosity.
Practitioners of fettered orbs
Retinas steaming, clattered in the streams
Their sumptuous blood boils in voracious clouds
While lovely cacophony awaits birth among the clandestine zephyrs.
When they depart that carapace
That vellum in which vivid life and friction collide
The vapors will settle into it's sheath
And once again know that they are at home.
Be kind,
There are phantoms afoot.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
A Sad Day
Dear Pua, my sincerest empathy for your loss. I do know what you are going through.
Kyle was commenting today that depressing films seem to inspire his creative juices. While I don't dwell on depressing cinema all that much, it got me to thinking about what movies have made me cry. Historical movies about the holocaust or apocalypse don't usually turn on the tears. Romance usually doesn't even muster a drop although there have been exceptions. I know I'm going to be sad already in these cases, so I'm prepared for it. As such, I haven't had many gushing faucet moments, but here are a few that are vividly burned in my memory.
Silent Running: I don't know how old I was when I saw this movie since it was made before I was born, and I don't know if it would affect me the same way now, but I remember the impact of seeing the downfall of a man with high ideals destroyed and how his only companions in the form of little robots systematically failed. It's haunted me in my dreams. It must have had some psychological affect on why I'm interested in organic gardening nowadays.
Watership Down: I think my parents taped this for us because, hey, it had talking bunnies in it. Holy crap. It is insignificant that this story's main protagonists are rabbits. It wasn't even the obvious man vs. nature theme that did me in. What was happening here? These were societies at war, fields full of blood, genocide, dictatorship, repression, and redemption. It's the most "real" animated film I think I've ever seen. Also, one of the few books I've read several times over.
The Secret of Nimh: I didn't realize it at the time but I identified most with Mrs. Brisby's fear and desperation to be an unintentional hero and simply do what needs to be done to save her family. I would do the same for mine without a doubt. (Too bad Don Bluth hasn't made another good movie since.)
Transformers, The Movie: OK so, hold on, before you call me a weenie and die from laughter, I think was 10 when this movie came out. Transformers were IT for me. I never could get into GI Joe, but Optimus Prime and the Autobots were my commercial poison of choice. I was a chubby child of the 80's after all. Any view of death from the cheesy cartoon was pretty much nonexistent. There I sat in the theater and more than a few of the characters I'd known to "Roll Out" on a regular basis bit the dust. What?! How can this be?! When Prime lay on his deathbed, I bawled like a baby.
Star Trek Next Generation "The Offspring": Right, well, I know this isn't a movie but the sentiment in this episode was just powerful. Poor Mr. Data. It led my whole family to a group hug as I recall.
Gattaca - I can't remember if I cried the first time through, but one day, the circumstances were present and by it's bittersweet ending I was done. I have to space out my viewings as this movie gets more powerful every time I watch it. Might have to do with the fact that it's about a boy with a hidden identity struggling up the ladder of a socially divisive world.
After looking over the list I realized many of them are from my youth, they all had moments of unexpected death that caught me by surprise. Oddly, more often than not they deal with the humanity in things that aren't necessarily human (like robots and animals). I'm sure there are more that I can't think of right now.
---------
On a lighter note, it's all about the small steps with some people (like myself). But every once in a blue moon you hear things like this that emphasize a hopeful outcome rather than it's disparaging conclusion. Every generation will seemingly have a different overall view on what being gay is all about. It is extremely encouraging to have read this positive experience with his parents. Good luck to you sir! :) Here's hoping this is a trend...
Kyle was commenting today that depressing films seem to inspire his creative juices. While I don't dwell on depressing cinema all that much, it got me to thinking about what movies have made me cry. Historical movies about the holocaust or apocalypse don't usually turn on the tears. Romance usually doesn't even muster a drop although there have been exceptions. I know I'm going to be sad already in these cases, so I'm prepared for it. As such, I haven't had many gushing faucet moments, but here are a few that are vividly burned in my memory.
Silent Running: I don't know how old I was when I saw this movie since it was made before I was born, and I don't know if it would affect me the same way now, but I remember the impact of seeing the downfall of a man with high ideals destroyed and how his only companions in the form of little robots systematically failed. It's haunted me in my dreams. It must have had some psychological affect on why I'm interested in organic gardening nowadays.
Watership Down: I think my parents taped this for us because, hey, it had talking bunnies in it. Holy crap. It is insignificant that this story's main protagonists are rabbits. It wasn't even the obvious man vs. nature theme that did me in. What was happening here? These were societies at war, fields full of blood, genocide, dictatorship, repression, and redemption. It's the most "real" animated film I think I've ever seen. Also, one of the few books I've read several times over.
The Secret of Nimh: I didn't realize it at the time but I identified most with Mrs. Brisby's fear and desperation to be an unintentional hero and simply do what needs to be done to save her family. I would do the same for mine without a doubt. (Too bad Don Bluth hasn't made another good movie since.)
Transformers, The Movie: OK so, hold on, before you call me a weenie and die from laughter, I think was 10 when this movie came out. Transformers were IT for me. I never could get into GI Joe, but Optimus Prime and the Autobots were my commercial poison of choice. I was a chubby child of the 80's after all. Any view of death from the cheesy cartoon was pretty much nonexistent. There I sat in the theater and more than a few of the characters I'd known to "Roll Out" on a regular basis bit the dust. What?! How can this be?! When Prime lay on his deathbed, I bawled like a baby.
Star Trek Next Generation "The Offspring": Right, well, I know this isn't a movie but the sentiment in this episode was just powerful. Poor Mr. Data. It led my whole family to a group hug as I recall.
Gattaca - I can't remember if I cried the first time through, but one day, the circumstances were present and by it's bittersweet ending I was done. I have to space out my viewings as this movie gets more powerful every time I watch it. Might have to do with the fact that it's about a boy with a hidden identity struggling up the ladder of a socially divisive world.
After looking over the list I realized many of them are from my youth, they all had moments of unexpected death that caught me by surprise. Oddly, more often than not they deal with the humanity in things that aren't necessarily human (like robots and animals). I'm sure there are more that I can't think of right now.
---------
On a lighter note, it's all about the small steps with some people (like myself). But every once in a blue moon you hear things like this that emphasize a hopeful outcome rather than it's disparaging conclusion. Every generation will seemingly have a different overall view on what being gay is all about. It is extremely encouraging to have read this positive experience with his parents. Good luck to you sir! :) Here's hoping this is a trend...
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