Nothing wrong with me

I can't seem to find a way to sleep anymore, my engine is on some sort of high ass setting and or the other end of the spectrum, no in between, no rest for the weary or the wary. It's probably that human clock stuff again, but it could be that I'm on sort of a natural high; dude.
Anyway, I went into EB Games to find out if it's possible to reserve Halo 3, and was told it is indeed possible within the realm of this dimension to do so. I also asked, and this is where it gets all too fun, I asked if it was still due to come out in November, and the guy got all frothy at the mention of the release date, and that there were two versions, the deluxe which comes with a helmet; I busted out laughing, and he paused and gave me a distressed look but then went right back into the dissertation on each option the comes with either version of the game. I had to actually put my hand signal up as in stop please, and I said; "There will be no helmet". And, the deflation was complete. He just said, "sure five dollars down will hold it for you", and he moved on to a hopefully more compatible enthusiastic customer.

All your laughing friends

Jake is coming in for the high school Senior prom. He is not a senior, so I reckon he's attending with an older lady friend. I don't know any of the details because I'm not privy to that sort of information. Apparently in order to make this trip in that he has no job or income, he is selling his ipod, that I bought for him last year, and the rest is going to be from contributions his friends here are making because they miss him so much. Secretly, I am delighted at the prospect of seeing him, he is after all my son, and I miss him every day, however, I think it's going to be a struggle any way we slice it. What a piece of pie to have to contend with; there will be the curfew struggle, the show of independence and the relief to know that he is going back to the coast with a prom under his belt and a reminder of why he's there.

Through their own words

When you get to a certain age, (okay when I got to a certain age), there are going to be subtle and not so subtle changes that take place that are enough to want to make me never leave my room, and or not without a scarf or something around my neck.
The odd thing about so many rites of passage, or especially female experiences is how often no one tells you what to expect and then when your going through these truly enormous milestones, you find that every one has been through it, and it's just part of the process.
So, is it a club of sorts, is there an agreement that had to be signed stating the information will not be shared, passed down or disseminated.
The same thing happened to me when I had babies, some of the stuff that goes on really should have been gone over in one of the dozens of seminars, classes, skull and bones mixers, or some such place. But until your in the throws of Circadian rhythm realignment with two babies screaming and inconsolable or your child comes home looking slapped silly by a stooge or two, then you are smack dab in the middle of the lack of information age and it without any further ado, is not a very agreeable place to be.

Clearly I remember

Why does there always have to be an angle that people take advantage of, particularly a political one. It grates on the soul of this culture that the immediate response is blame. Now, I know that perhaps it's a normal reaction to things that seem out of control, or to try and evaluate or discern the what and why of an event. But it is always the same shit people blah blah blahing about how things should go, could go, will go if only we have this or that in place. How did these oafs end up being what represents any sort of approach to understanding or synthesizing information.

From a great height

We've got a convergence if you will. There are an unusually high number of unbalanced, strange, and obviously mentally ill people coming into the library on a daily basis. These patrons tend to be male, though there are a few women, and they become regulars, they come every day and stay virtually an entire shift. On average in the past I'd say there were five or six "regulars"; currently I'd put the count at fifteen to twenty.
My co-workers wonder why now? What's occurring to cause this increase. I have to figure it's either economic, or just that public libraries are the last place that people don't have to have a reason to be there. The value and importance of the fact that so much of the world is private sector and that public buildings are far between, is not lost on the likes of me, however, the larger portion of these patrons, are combative and unsettling when we have to engage them if perhaps they've been on the Internet for hours and some one else wants a turn or, they are having trouble with a code they need to break in order to contact the mother ship.

That you require to feel

I was shopping today, and had a moment of odd awe. I am a size 8. I am half the person I was in August, but really double the person in terms of so many other things; such as how so many people look at me, and see something different but I don't.
I have a very logical sensibility, I'm rational and emotional, but things play out in an analytical and systematic way for me, except, for the weight thing. The essence of who we are and how we make ourselves slog through the world has a framework and template that we have very little say regarding. So, I know that my brain is full of shit when it, in that voice of the evil woman I named it after, says that I am still the person I always was, and will always, be. I know life is not about size, but I just don't see how it happened, or how to accept that I'm never going to embrace reality in this one venue.

But in my mind

When I teach a class, which I do for mostly seniors or people that are dealing with language barriers, I try and remember what it was like to not understand a subject, to be completely new to something or to really feel that it is beyond your level of comprehension. We, being the we that understand how to use a computer; take it for granted and are so familiar with this process that it rarely dawns on us that so many generations have absolutely no chance of really getting to progress and learn these skills without a lot of intervention.
My two favorite things to tell these students, are "you are in charge of the mouse, it's not in charge of you" and If you need help ask a fourteen year old. They laugh, but I mean it in the truest sense, if they get those two gems out of the class then as far as I'm concerned it was completely successful.

All that I own

Behavior is an odd thing to try and discern. And apparently so much of it is biological rather then conscious that it is almost impossible to determine anything outside of what becomes habit and or routine.
I was a chunky kid, never huge, just kind of in between, and then in my teens it got more complicated. There were puberty and sexuality to contend with, and weight for me as for so many became a barrier to the harshness of the world as I saw it. I did however know that even though I did have times of emotional eating, that I couldn't eat the same amount as the "regular" people around me and maintain my weight.
Finding out, many years later that there was so much more involved in the evolution of my size than I could possibly have any say regarding or control over, vindicates; yet there is no victory but Pyrrhic in that I still am what I am and went through and continue to contend with the battle of being allowed to exist in a culture that denies validity or comfort for those who don't fit.

There was corn involved

I went to work half the day Saturday, and then went to our friend Bill's 50th birthday party. That in itself is not where the trouble started, it began with me not having anything to eat before I went, which resulted in me having a little party in Eamon's car on the drive home. I had one drink but apparently, as Eamon observed the later similar libations, that drink was mixed in a blender and had at least 4-7 shots of tequila. I didn't taste it but all of a sudden it hit me and the there is a lapse of memory there that makes me think about all of the people who do this on a regular basis and how fucked up that is.
I rarely drink because I am always far too concerned with being in control and keeping things together. So an experience like that makes me understand how complicated the process is, and also provides me with a basis for my position that drinking takes an awful lot out of you and sometimes with much force.

The glow

I started reading the book Catching the Big Fish by David Lynch, it's an exceptionally well written and striking book about art and creative nature, and the obstacles that depression, anger and everyday experience can induce. I'm glad I decided to read it because I was just going to leave it like so many things I bring home, and eventually just return it unread. I actually was supposed to have left for work, and Eamon was going to drive me, but he was collating copies of his screenplay so I had a few minutes. Now, as I was reading, it did not slip my mind that this book, discussing Transcendental Meditation and the life changing elements of this practice that made it possible for David Lynch to create, and be a successful film maker; who made Blue Velvet, Eraserhead, Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive and all of those other projects that fucked with me over the last two decades. Nope, I had that in the back of mind the entire time I was grooving on the vibe.

We're just a minor threat

The thing I remember most about the Cleveland "hardcore" scene, was that it felt very intimate. I was not a part of the group as usual, but I did have friends and was an acquaintance to many. The odd thing, is that even in the sense of being part of a misfit class eluded me. I did however feel a sense of the community and took a great deal of comfort in that.
There were times that we would go to another city to see a show, and sort of watch as other scenes happened, it was extremely familiar but just different enough to have it's own flavor.

Last night while watching American Hardcore, on my HDTV, in my king sized bed in my semi suburban rural home, the irony was not lost on me as they interviewed former and still current hardcorers in front of their pools or nicely furnished homes. A lot of the discussion near the end of the movie revolved around the sudden end to the scene and it's immediacy, but as I think about it, as people aged in the mid or late 80's, the vividness or their intensity and disillusionment sort of became diminished and the world got a little bigger and less about rebellion and more about figuring out how to live with the fucking mess for the years to come.

Wave of mutilation

Exuberance doesn't even come close to the way I feel. My house is peaceful and calm and we are at ease for the first time in more than a week. In some sense, it's a good thing to have an opportunity to realize that things aren't actually all that bad. So chock one up for my mother giving us a frame of reference and an appreciation for the simpler things such as not being harassed, intimidated or challenged every few minutes and then being told it didn't happen at all. These events are actually more sad now than anything else, and the worse part is the fear that I too will be that way some day, and that I'll hear it coming out of my mouth and know that everything is over in terms of authentic and favorable relationships with "loved ones". Compi!