Verus Verum

So, that last post I wrote, it was a lie. All of it. I've never been to Washington DC. I stopped believing in reincarnation in the ninth grade. And, although I've lived in flat places, I've never lived in a flat place that got really frosty and cold for long stretches in the winter.

The story that I wrote started while I was training to start working at 'Bucks in 2002.

See, when you're in your early to mid twenties and you work at a place like 'Bucks, everyone wants to know how old you are. Especially all the just-got-out-of-high-school girls. During my first week of training, which was at a store that was 45 minutes to an hour drive from where I lived at the time, I was asked by everyone who worked at that store, and the three who were training for my store how old I was. I was tired of the questing the third time it was asked.

I know when most people are young, age is very important (even though I keep getting bulletins on MySpace that say it isn't. When you're young, almost everything is defined by an age. At four is when you go to pre-school. Five is Kindergarten. Six you stay at school until two PM. Nine you're there until three. If you live in a town with a middle school (which I didn't) you go there when you're eleven. At fourteen or fifteen, you start high school. At sixteen you can, hopefully, drive a car. At eighteen, you get to decide if you want to be done with school, forever. And at twenty-one, you can buy yourself, and your underage friends, booze. Nearly everything is defined by age.

So, I understood that it was important to them, but that didn't mean I had to really answer the question.

My second week of training, more people who were going to be working at my store started showing up to be trained, and they started to ask me how old I was. I said I was 61. Every time someone asked me my age, I said 61. If they asked me to tell them my real age, I'd say 61. If they got upset, I'd tell them it's not how old you are, it's how old you feel. Eventually, they got smart and started asking my brother how old I was because he'd tell them, after he did some counting on his fingers. (That's not a slam on him; I have to use my fingers to figure out his age, too.)

Time moved on and we all moved into our real store and new people were hired, we were understaffed when we opened. They started asking me how old I was. I told them 61. Then, one day, I was tripped up. When I told someone I was 61, I was asked what year I was born in, and I stumbled. I couldn't just throw the year out without a thought like I can my actual birth year. So, I went about remember that I was born in 1941.

That's when more started coming to me:

• How could I explain why I was so young now, even though I insisted I was 61? Reincarnation!
• Where did I live? Somewhere very flat that got cold in the winter.
• Who were my parents? I can't remember their full names. I think my father's name was Jack or John, or something like that.
• Why can't you remember? I died before I was two.
• How? Whooping cough.

After I came up with the story, I started to recite it to people who would ask anything more than how old I was. Most people would walk away after I brought up reincarnation. Talking about how whooping cough felt got most of the others. If I had to go farther, I'd talk about how my past self's father died at Tarwa. Most people have no idea where Tarwa is, let alone about the battle that was fought there. They didn't want to hear about the bloody marine assault on the beaches or other nasty details.

Anyway, the story, no matter how deep I got into the details, was a good way to keep certain types of people away from me for a while. About a week. Good times.

In other news, I have an interview in Cowtown tomorrow. I'm not asking for luck, this time, because it hasn't helped in the past. Just thought people should know why there's no Friday post, even though there hasn't been a post in the last seven days and I don't plan on explaining that.

Hope your June is better than your May.

Alius Vita

I was born early in 1941 to two wonderful people.

I'm not exactly sure where we lived. It was flat. And cold. And I was kept inside our little house most of the time.

Sometimes I'd be propped up to look out the front window over the porch, that how I know it was so flat. I knew it was cold because the barren fields were covered in frost and whenever people would walk by the window on their way to the door, they blew steam out their mouth.

When the weather warmed up, I was taken outside more, but I was usually lying down in a stroller, or buggy, or whatever they were called then, and there was some sort of a canopy to, supposedly, keep the sun off me. It really just made it so I couldn't see. I wasn't propped up in the window as much at that time, either. That probably had something to do with the fact that my father was gone more often during the day. Maybe not.

In December, my father, along with a lot of other fathers, decided to join the Navy. Early in the next year, he was gone and my mother decided to move us from our house into the house my grandparents lived in. She got postcards with pictures of clear water and odd trees and sand. She cried when she got them.

My father died near some place called Tarawa in 1943.

I didn't know that at the time, though, since I had died nearly a year earlier. Whooping cough got me.

Aloha, as the letters my father sent my mother always said.

In the spring of the last year of the eighth decade of the last century, I was born again, to two different, but equally wonderful, people.

This time, Dad didn't join the Navy and I made it past my second birthday.

As I grew I started to remember things, like being propped up in a window watching the flat, frost covered land. I remembered moving from a little one-story house into a much larger two-story one. I remembered being tiny and coughing so hard I'd throw-up all over myself, the floor, or anyone who was holding me. And I remembered the last time I fell asleep.

If I had survived my bout with whooping cough in the last pass, I'd be 66 now. I'd either be retired or expecting to retire soon. Even if I hadn't accomplished anything up to that point, at least I could be proud that I had survived long enough to be done with something.

I wonder what I would have been. I wonder who I would have known.

In college, I took a trip to Washington to find out what happened to the former me's father. That's where I learned he died near Tarawa. I found out how he died. I even learned where he came from and to whom he was married. I never searched for information like that again.

I may remember parts of that life, but it's not mine. It was someone else’s, and he didn't make it. There's no reason for me to dwell on it.

Be Jealous of Me...

For in a couple of months Wings and I will be going to see Avenue Q in a couple of months.

For those who don't have any idea of what Avenue Q is, here's a clip of the cast performing "It Sucks To Be Me." That pretty much explains the show.

Edit: 12:18
Okay, if you enjoyed the clip above you may enjoy the meeting between Avenue Q and Fiddler on the Roof, which is brilliant.

Too Many Tests!

You Have a Phlegmatic Temperament

Mild mannered and laid back, you take life at a slow pace. You are very consistent - both in emotions and actions. You tend to absorb set backs easily. You are cool and collected. It is difficult to offend you. You can remain composed and unemotional. You are a great friend and lover. You don't demand much of others. While you are quiet, you have a subtle wit that your friends know well. At your worst, you are lazy and unwilling to work at anything. You often get stuck in a rut, without aspirations or dreams. You can get too dependent on others, setting yourself up for abandonment.

What Temperment Are You?

Seems right. I'm not sure if that's a good thing, though.

Your Driving Is is: 43% Male, 57% Female

According to studies, you drive both like a guy and a girl. This means you're a pretty average driver, with typical quirks. Occasionally you're frustrated and or a little reckless, but that's the exception - not the norm.

Do You Drive Like a Guy or a Girl?

Hooray for being average!

What Your Bathroom Habits Say About You

You are very independent and self-centered. You don't solve other people's problems - and you don't expect them to solve yours. Your idea of fashion is jeans and a t-shirt. Clean, if you're lucky. You have the perfect blend of confidence and class. You're proud of who you are - but you don't broadcast it. In relationships, you tend to be very romantic and demanding. You'll treat your partner like gold, but you expect a lot in return.

What Do Your Bathroom Habits Say About You?

Parts see accurate, but other things, not so much.

You Should Learn French

C'est super! You appreciate the finer things in life... wine, art, cheese, love affairs. You are definitely a Parisian at heart. You just need your tongue to catch up...

What Language Should You Learn?

Actually, I've always wanted to learn Welsh. It's not going to happen, but I still think of it every now and then.

Weird Al Shares Your Taste in Music

See his whole playlist here (iTunes required)

Which Musician (or Group) Shares Your Taste in Music?

Cool!

You Are French Food

Snobby yet ubiquitous. People act like they understand you more than they actually do.

What Kind of Food Are You?

HA!

You Are Expressionism

Moody, emotional, and even a bit angsty... you certainly know how to express your emotions. At times, you tend to lack perspective on your life, probably as a result of looking inward too much. This introspection does give you a flair for the dramatic. And it's even maybe made you cultivate some artistic talents! You have a true artist's temperament... which is a blessing and a curse.

What Art Movement Are You?

I like the part that says "you tend to lack perspective on your life."

Sorry

No post here, today, I did some bitching over at MySpace, instead.

From My MySpace Blog

Six

A year ago, a friend wrote a great blog post called "Can I clarify?"

When I read this bulletin I knew I had to do the something similar.

It was titled "Girls take a look"

you might agree with it, but when it actually happens 99% of girls dont realize it 'til it is too late and that guy who did it is so frustrated that he has moved on to someone who will take notice.

Unless the two of you are having sex on a semi-regular basis, then he's not going to move on... unless he found someone with bigger tits.

From a guys point of view:

We don't care if you talk to other guys.

It all depends on the situation. I'm not a fan of a woman talking to (or about) another guy (or a woman) during foreplay, or sex, or other private moments. I'm sure she doesn't want me talking to another woman at those times.

Of course, If I'm not bumping uglies with her, she can talk to other guys all she wants.

We don't care if you're friends with other guys.

Unless we're dating and the other guy is a friend with "benefits."

But when you're sitting next to us, and some random guy walks into the room and you jump up and tackle him, without even introducing us, yeah, it pisses us off.

Again, are we dating? If we aren't I'm not that much of a whiner. Leave me with Mario Kart and I'm good.

It doesn't help if you sit there and talk to him for ten minutes without even acknowledging the fact that we're still there.

See above.

We don't care if a guy calls you, but at 2 in the morning we do get a little concerned.

I won't be too concerned, mostly I'll panic from the shock of being woken up at 2 AM from a comfortable deep sleep the too loud ring of the phone. After the panic, I'll be sleepy.

Nothing is that important at 2 a.m. that it can't wait till the morning.

Except a friend being stranded on the highway with a dead car, or the death of a loved one, or a fire, you know, things that are important anytime of the day no matter what.

Also, when we tell you you're pretty/beautiful/gorgeous/cute/stunning, we freaking mean it.

Unless we're running late and we want you to get moving. Or if we're trying to avoid an argument that there's no way to win. We'll tell you anything we thing you want to hear to do either of those things.

Don't tell us we're wrong.

Unless we really are because even though some of us may not like to be told we're wrong but when we are we should be told because most of us like being an asshole less than we like being told we're wrong.

Or is this about us telling you that you look nice? If it is, then don't tell us because we don't want to be late/don't want to have a fight.

We'll stop trying to convince you.

This must be about the looks thing. And it's a lie. As long as we think we're running late because of you're dress or hair or make-up, we'll keep telling you that you look great.

The sexiest thing about a girl is confidence.
Yeah, you can quote me.

I swear, it was your confidence I noticed across the room, not curve of your leg or the bounce of you bosom. It was your confidence!

Why don't you believe me?

Don't be mad when we hold the door open. Take advantage of the mood i'm in.

Can we cross out that second sentence and fill its place with "I'm trying to impress you because I'm hoping it'll increase the likelihood of sex with you tonight."?

However, if you see us holding the door open for some random person going in or coming out, then maybe the new sentence isn't quite right. Still, the hope for sex is there.

let us pay for you!dont "feel bad"

We enjoy doing it.

It's expected.

Smile and say "thank you."

Are we just friends? If so, you're probably going to be paying for yourself, unless it's a gift or I won the lottery or something like that.

If we're dating and my paying upsets you though, don't just smile and say, "thank you," because closing off the lines of communication and holding in a bad feeling toward me is the best way to start a healthy relationship.

Kiss us when no one's watching.

Not if I'm eating, though. I'll share off my plate, but I'm not a bird; I don't share my meal with you from my mouth.

If you kiss us when you know somebody's looking, we'll be even more impressed.

Because all we want to do is show the world that we bagged some chick and try to convince everyone that we may be having sex tonight and aren't all the other people out there jealous yet!

You don't have to get dressed up for us.

Because sweat pants are easier for us to pull off. Complicated underwear may be sexy to look at, but going from full mast to half mast as we're trying to get you out of the underwear can't make you feel any better than it makes us feel.

If we're going out with you in the first place, you don't have to feel the need to wear the shortest skirt you have or put on every kind of makeup you own.

Lies! See that thing I wrote about trying to impress the world a couple of quotes ago.

We like you for who you are and not what you are.

I swear, baby, it was your confidence that attracted me to you!

honestly, i think a girl looks more beautiful when she's just in her pj's or my tshirt and boxers, not all dolled up

Because, frankly, we don't want high maintenance women. They cost too much.

(A preamble and a question: The boxer thing has always seemed strange to me. I don't get it. Am I supposed to feel all sexy when I wear the shorts next because I know girl parts have rubbed up against where my boy parts are currently rubbing?)

Don't take everything we say seriously.

Because you know, we're all jokers and are frightened of meaningful conversations about the "War on Terror" and politics and the latest theatrical interpretation of Hamlet.

Sarcasm is a beautiful thing. See the beauty in it.

Yeah, right. (This is where I'd be rolling my eyes, if you could see me.)

Don't get angry easily.

We'll probably just blame it on PMS and then every time you get angry we'll do our best to ignore it because it's just PMS.

Stop using magazines/media as your bible.

The Bible is The Bible and even though we're having pre-martial sex it's still the Word of God and all those magazines totally ignore the story of that guy from the place where the terrorists live now. You know the guy. He did the thing that was really important. For the people. He was a son, or something. I think he liked animals. You know the guy.

Don't talk about how hott Morris Chesnutt, Brad Pitt, or Jesse McCartney is in front of us.It's boring, and we don't care. You have girlfriends for that.

And I'm too insecure about myself to not get defensive and moody when you talk about guys you'll never meet and aren't dating.

PS I'll probably snicker when you say Chesnutt. It's just my way.

Whatever happened to the word "handsome"/"beautiful"

I've never seen the word '"handsome"/"beautiful"' I think it was just made up here and now. How special!

I'd be utterly stunned by a girl who greeted mewith "Hey handsome!" instead of "Hey baby/stud/cutie/sexy" or whatever else you can think of.

Actually, I'd rather you use my name. Some word that gets used so often in ways that make little sense isn't who I am. And I promise not to call you "sweet cheeks," okay?

on the other hand im not sayin i wouldnt like it ether ; )

Because I need that reassurance from you. I'm that insecure.

Girls, I cannot stress this enough: if you aren't being treated right by a guy, don't wait for him to change. ditch his sorry, disgrace to the male population ass and find someone who will treat you with utter respect

Because all women should be put on a pedestal to be viewed and treated like trinkets. They're not people, after all.

Someone who will honor your morals.

Even though you bible is, apparently, "magazines/media."

Someone who will make you smile when you're at your lowest.

Rather than listen to you and help you through what's going on he should distract you so you think he cares.

Someone who will care for you even when you make mistakes.

Because, you know, most people are afraid of your mistakes and they don't like you when you make them.

Someone who will love you, no matter how bad you make them feel.

Even if you make them feel like an utterly worthless piece of fat that the dog won't even eat it.

Someone who will stop what they're doing just to look you in the eyes....and say "i love you"...and actually mean it.

As opposed to the moments when he gives you're hand a reassuring squeeze before you go off for an interview or something else you may be nervous. Or the time's he give you a back or foot rub when you don't ask for one. Because you're so insecure you need to hear the words to actually believe he loves you.

Give the nice guys a chance

They deserve nookie, too.

Guys repost this if you agree

Girls repost this if you think it's cute

Or repost this if you feel like clogging the bulletins with the more useless crap.

Every guy who isn't a jerk will agree with this, so we hope that all the girls that read this will repost this

I guess that means I'm not a jerk.

I did repost it.

*Holdin Hands
Girls : If you want to hold his hand, gently bump into it a couple of times.
Guys : Grab it if it happens more than once.

I'm not grabbing sticky hands. And clammy hands are pretty bad, too.

*Cuddling
Girls : When you want to cuddle with him, tell him you're cold
Guys : Automatically move closer to her.

Um, if you tell me you're cold, I'll get you a blanket or a coat to warm you up. I'm just dense that way. If you want to cuddle, either tell me or start cuddling, hopefully I'll catch on.

*Movies
Girls : During a movie, if he puts his arm around you, tilt your head on his shoulder
Guys : Lift her chin up and kiss her.

If we're at the theater, I want to watch the movie. I paid the money to see it and I do my best not to see crap movies in the theater.

Also, If I put my arm around you in a movie theater, it's probably because I'm cold and I want some of your body heat because I gave you my coat when you said you were cold but really wanted to cuddle.

*Loving each other
Guys : When she tells you she loves you, look deep into her eyes, give her a peck on the lips, and tell her you love her too... And mean it.

Because nothing says "I love you" like actually saying the words!

*Laying below the stars
Girls : When you're both laying under the stars, put your head on his chest and close your eyes as you listen to his steady heart beat
Guys : Whisper in her ear and link your hands with hers.

If her head is on my chest, how can I whisper in her ear? And if she's listening to my heart beat, how can she hear what I whisper when I figure out how to get down there? And what if my heart beat isn't steady? What then?!

By 12 am tonight your one true love will realize how much they want you.

It won't help if she lives in Europe and doesn't know my name, though, will it.

repost as: guys point of view

Ummm, how about I just call it Six? It is the next one in a series, after all.

Disturbing Statues?

Recently among the comic chunk of the 'net people have been discussing this statue of Mary Jane Watson-Parker. (Here's one day's worth of posts at When Fangirls Attack. There are way more. It's overwhelming.) I'm pretty sure I know why, but that's not the statue that I want to write about because it's not the comic based statue that most disturbed me this month.

The one that got me was the newest Strangers in Paradise statue of Katchoo.

I can hear people now: "What's so offensive about that statue? Cleavage isn't hanging out as a focal point. She has a more realistic waist size. Her breasts aren't overly huge. And it doesn't imply that women should be barefoot and doing house work like the Mary Jane statue does." And I totally agree.

The reason that the Katchoo statue disturbs me is because all the moments in her story where she's wearing a dress like the one she has on in the statues are the moments when she's under the thumb of Darcy Parker. It's when Katchoo is "Baby June." The dress is a symbol of Katchoo's life in, what is essentially, slavery.

That dress is silken chain that Darcy Parker put around Katchoo when Katchoo was pulled off the streets. And the worst thing is that, in the dress, Katchoo, at least for a while, liked the life she lived with Darcy Parker. She liked being a call girl. She liked extorting money out of people. She liked the lounging by the pool. And she liked Darcy Parker.

In the dress, Katchoo could pretend that Darcy Parker wasn't a monster. She could pretend that Darcy Parker didn't order the deaths of people who wouldn't be extorted. She could pretend that Darcy Parker actually loved her.

To me, Katchoo in a dress, especially a cocktail dress, is always one of the most disturbing images. It represents everything that Katchoo was trying to leave behind and I, as a fan of the series, would never want to own something that constantly reminds me of the emotional and physical horror one of the best characters ever created has gone through.

As "Baby June," Katchoo wasn't a hero, she was a pathetic villain who was always too afraid to do anything for herself or her friends.

I don't understand why anyone would want a reminder of that.

---

And now that I've written this, I feel silly. I don't mean it as a joke or in any way to slight the reaction to the Mary Jane statue, but for me I find the Katchoo statue to offend me more than the Mary Jane one ever could because I don't care about Mary Jane the character (or feminist icon) like I care about the character (or fictional person) that is Kachoo.

Great Last Name From A Work File

Munsterman

Post Interview Stress Disorder

If I get hired at the job I interviewed for on the 4th, I can no longer start just as the new pay period begins.

I was interviewed for two positions at the same time. I was sure I'd get one of them. I've been doing the filing and paper pushing for over a year. I know I can do it there as well as I do it here.

Why won't they hire me?

Is it just my usual hiring curse?

I'd feel so much better if I knew the place I interviewed for was desperate for people. But their not.

Disappointed

Three weeks ago, I wanted to know what books those of you who occasionally peruse this space enjoy rereading and I only got one response.

Last week, I wanted to read some jokes from those of you who occasionally peruse this space, and I only got one response.

It's just sad that five or six of you out of the six or seven who visit don't reread books or know any jokes.

Blizzard

I really want a Blizzard. I actually have money with me and even though the Mall isn't on my normal route away from work, it's also not out of the way. I think I'll stick with my usual peanut butter cup Blizzard. That seems like a good idea that's also bad.

Not In The Mood

This has been a very long week. I've had lots of work to catch up on and lots of work coming in. And add to that my allergies going extra-crazy psychotic and I'm really not in the mood to write much of anything. I'm sure there's stuff to say, but my sneezing and headaches won't allow me to say then right now.

Another Game?

Yup.

Go play Count Out!

It's sort of like Minesweeper, but no diagonals, only up and down and left and right.

Good luck!

JOKES

I have no time or content today. I thought I'd copy Choochoo's post today and do a joke, which I wrote in her comments hoping other people would write jokes, too. They didn't.

I'll also write another one, which you may or may not have heard before.

If you have a joke, please put it in the comments, or write it on your blog and drop me a link.

Enjoy.

The first joke:
A woman was driving throught he country admiring the rolling green hills. She saw a herd of sheep and slowed down a bit to get a good look and admire the curly haired animals that she never got to see, living in the city. Suddenly she heard a "Baaaa... Baaaa... Baaaaaaa!" that kept repeating itself with some regularity. She stopped her car, leaned over to get a better look out the passenger side window, and saw a naked man out in the field standing behind a sheep. Thrusting his hips. With each thrust the man made she heard another "Baaaaaa!"

She drove off as quickly as she could and at the next drive way pulled in. She got out of her car, ran up to the house, and pounded on the door. A boy with very curly, blond hair opened the door.

"There's a man," said the woman, "out in your field having sex with your sheep!"

"It's okay," said the boy. "That's my daaaaaaaad."

The second joke:
One evening after going to the theater, two men were walking down the street when they saw a well dressed and attractive lady walking just ahead of them. One of the men turned to the other and said, "I'd give $50.00 to spend the night with that woman."

To their surprise the lady overheard him and, turning around, she said, "I'll take you up on that." She had a smokey voice and looked clean, so, after blowing his friend off, the man followed the lady to her apartment, where they immediately went to her room, jumped into bed, and had so-so sex..

The following morning the man handed her $25.00.

As he started to leave she demanded the rest of the money saying, "If you don't give me the money I'll sue you for it."

He laughed and said, "I'd like to see you try."

The next day he was surprised when he received a summons ordering to court as defendant in a law suit. He hurried to his lawyer and explained the details of the case. His lawyer said: "She can't possibly get a judgement against you on such grounds, but it will be interesting to see how her case is presented."

In court, after the usual preliminaries, the lady's lawyer addressed the court: "Your Honor, my client, this woman here, is the owner of a piece of property, a garden spot surrounded by a profuse growth of shrubbery, property she agreed to rent to the defendant for a specific length of time for the sum of $50.00. The defendant took possession of the property, used it extensively for the purpose for which it was rented, but upon evacuating the premises he paid only $25.00 which is only half the amount agreed upon. The rent was not excessive, since it is restricted property, and we ask judgement to be granted against the defendant to assure payment of the balance."

The defendant's lawyer was impressed and amused at the way the opponent had presented the case. His defense, therefore, was different from the what he had originally prepared. "Your Honor, my client agrees that the young lady has a fine piece of property, that he did rent such property for a time and a degree of pleasure was derived from the transaction. However, my client found a well on the property, around which he placed his stones, sunk a shaft and erected a pump, all labor being performed personally by him. We claim these improvements to the property adequately compensated for rental of said property. We therefore, ask judgement be not granted."

The young lady's lawyer said, "Your Honor, my client agrees that the defendant did find a well on her property and that he did make improvements such as my opponent has described. However, had the defendant not known the well existed, he would never have rented the property, also, upon evacuating the premises, the defendant removed the stones, pulled out the shaft and took the pump with him. In doing so, he not only dragged the equipment through the shrubbery, but left the hole much larger than it was prior to his occupancy, making it easily accessible to little children. We therefore, ask that judgement be granted."

The judgement was granted.

Hope to see read some of yours!

In

I was gone an Friday, job interview, so there's a lot of work on my desk today. It'll take a lot of work to be caught up by this Friday.

I'll find time to actually say something tomorrow. I just hope that I actually have something to say tomorrow.

Been Thinking

I got this in my e-mail this morning:

I certainly thought this was enlightening. Beyond our sun ...
It's a big universe.

Antares is the 15th brightest star in the sky.
It is more than 1000 light years away.
Now how big are you?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Now TRY to wrap your mind around this.........


This is a Hubble Telescope Ultra Deep Field Infrared View of countless "ENTIRE" Galaxies Billions of Light-Years Away.

Below is a close up of one of the darkest regions of the photo above.

Humbling, isn't it?

Now How Big Are You?
And how big are the things that upset you today?

Keep life in perspective and don't sweat the small stuff!

---

Now, I know what the person is trying to get across here, but when I got to the end I wasn't thinking what the e-mail wanted me to think.

What I thought, when I got to the end, was if the world we live on is so small compared to the other planets and the other planets are so small compared to our star and our star is so small compared to other stars and all the stars are so small compared to a galaxy and there are so many galaxies in the universe and this one tiny world we live on is the only place we know of, for sure (and I did read the WIRED thing about a possible Earth-like planet because it seems to fall in the liquid water zone around its star), that life can exist then it seems to me that the small things are pretty damn important. If two neighbors can't get along with each other, what hope is there for two nations? And if the people and nations don't start being civil to each other, who's to say that there'll be any life left in the universe at all after we fuck this miniscule place up?

If Only It Were Just A Joke

"The question is, 'Who ought to make that decision, the Congress or the commanders?'," Mr. Bush said. "As you know, my position is clear – I'm the commander guy."

via The Caucus

Confused

A lot of people seem to be finding my blog by searching in Google Image Search. The odd thing is that the search is bringing them to a post that talks about images and links to images, but doesn't actually have any images in it.

Last year, when I wrote about Superman Returns, I first broke down my opinion on the black costume shown in the teaser for Spider-Man 3.

So, I need to know, how does this work? There are very few pictures up on this blog, in the over 800 posts. If an image search came up with one of those few pages, I'd get it, but how does it come up with a post that has no pictures, only links to pictures? And why are people clicking on those anyway when two of the three I linked to are on the first page of the search? (And don't you dare blame it on misspelling because I am damn careful to write "Spider-Man" not "Spiderman." The whole spelling thing was explained in FRIENDS, that's how I know the right way to spell it.)

Sure, I guess more traffic is okay, but I'd rather it be for something that actually appears on my blog than something that just linked.

I know, it's a crazy thing to bitch about. Still, I'd like it to at least make a little sense. If someone can, please explain it to me.

Allergy Time Relativity

On allergy days, time is weird. And not just in the when-you're-with-a-girl-you-like Einstein/relativity way. Parts of it go really fast. (I can't tell you exactly what I've done for the last two hours, but my pile of work has moved from the left side of my desk to the right, and put in smaller piles.) Other parts go really slow. (Ten fifteen to eleven seemed to last a day or two. And there was stuff to do and I was doing it.)

Hell, I can't remember actually showering this morning. I remember getting into the tub and under the water and I remember rinsing the shampoo out of my hair. Rinsing out the shampoo is the last thing I do when I shower and I couldn't remember actually washing any part of my body. It was very disorientating standing under the warm streams trying to figure out if I washed my feet, among other parts of my body. I was pretty sure time had passed and, even though I hate the place, I didn't want to be late to work. (An aside: I usually get to work about five minutes early. Not on purpose, it's just a habit. Late in January, the building had shut off the power because of our elevators and when I came in the next morning, I was the one who reset the clock and I reset them all five minutes fast. That way I was exactly on time and we really locked the door five minutes early each day. It was great. Two weeks ago, they turned the power off again to test the elevators and the clocks had to be set again. I set them back to my time. One of the other workers noticed the clocks were off and were back on actual PDT. Sucks.) So I took the soap and washed the pertinent parts of my body, but I'm pretty sure that I rewashed them because the body feels different, especially between the toes. Or maybe it's just my body. I don't know. After I cleaned/re-cleaned the important parts, I decided to believe that the rest of me was clean and I've been okay for the rest of today.

I think I've lost the point of this post. It's mostly that I've lost my sense of time during this the season of allergies.

I look forward to the scalding days of July when they will be gone.