I cannot remember a time when I’ve had less to say and almost no creative spark whatsoever. I think about this old blog every day and want to write something but there’s nothing to say. Granted, part of the problem is that writing the kind of posts that I used to (and still want to) is quite time consuming (believe it or not), and I just don’t have that luxury any more. If I have time during the day when I’m not taking care of Alex I have to work on the projects that I have with my few remaining clients.
I realize my blog is certainly not the most important thing in the world but for awhile there I was really enjoying the creative process of writing. I’d love to come up with some smaller way of adding a post here and there that I could still find satisfying, I’m working on it.
But, in the meantime, I’ve been handed a nice & easy post that I can surely complete in one sitting by the cheese queen over at Oui Ma Fifi!
Here’s how it works:
1. Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating!
2. Find page 123.
3. Find the first five sentences.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.
I’m going to have to try very hard to refrain from going into an overly lengthy explanation of why I’m reading what I’m reading because it will be 3:00 a.m. before I know it and then tomorrow will be pure hell. I’d love to go on about how I’ve been lost and churned up like a snow globe for months. I really want to write pages about how I desperately needed some clarity and some help, but I won’t. I’ll just tell you that my nearest book is A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle.
“Cooperation is alien to the ego, except when there is a secondary motive. The ego doesn’t know that the more you include others, the more smoothly things flow and the more easily things come to you. When you give little or no help to others or put obstacles in their path, the universe—in the form of people and circumstances—gives little or no help to you because you have cut yourself off from the whole.”
Since I’m finally posting something I should make the most of it and throw a little music in too. So here’s some Fausto Pappetti for your listening pleasure:
Seriously, if my phone rings one more bloody time I’m going to lose my mind. Why would a phone call convince someone to vote for your loser candidate anyway? Just because the governor leaves a 10 minute message on my voicemail letting me know that Hillary is in fact the second coming of Christ, it will have no impact on me one way or the other. I take that back, it has a negative impact on me. I now loathe even the sound of the word Hillary and I get dry heaves at the mention of Obama.
If I see one more skinny, old, grey, straggly ponytail wearing hippie with a clipboard climbing my stairs extolling the virtues of Obama, I’m buying a gun and joining the NRA immediately. Aren’t you missing an important heart-warming story on NPR or something? Go home, get off my porch, go compost something. Hey, isn’t it your turn to stock the shelves at the co-op? There’s a folk singer down at the coffee shop, it’s his last set, if you hurry you can catch him.
Ever get a beautiful piece of carrot cake only to find a disgusting raisin in there. Ruined! Mmm, an oatmeal cookie, but wait, what’s in there? NO, a raisin! Ruined.
The only thing worse than a regular raisin are those golden raisins. Just the sight of one makes me wince and think “uh, who sneezed?”
A close second to raisins is the date. The only reason the date is in second place is that they’re not found in as many things and therefore don’t have the chance to ruin as much food as the raisin does. If they were to start to show up in more places they’d shoot to the top of this list faster than you can spit out a bite of cinnamon raisin bread.
Figs are gross and unappealing but again, not found in many things. I remember seeing them in a big bowl every Thanksgiving at my relative’s house. I never saw anyone eat any of them and wondered if they just stored that bowl of figs in the basement only to wheel it out every holiday with the hopes someone would finally take one.
You’d think next on my list would be the prune, but I don’t have a problem with them or any other dried fruit that I can think of. There are dried fruits I personally don’t like but wouldn’t put in my “so disgusting they ruin everything” category. I briefly went through a phase where I couldn’t get enough dried apples once, but when it was over I never wanted one ever again. I wonder what that was all about?
Dried apricots—bring em on, but you can keep papaya and pineapple, that’s just lame trail mix filler. And finally, I like dried bananas, but they don’t like me.
For awhile now I’ve tried to see if Alex is interested in watching TV and for the most part he wants nothing to do with the television. I’ve tried all the shows and none of them capture his attention, some of which I’m very grateful for. I hope he never likes that nauseating Dora the Explorer for example, two seconds of listening to those horrible, high-pitched, whiny children’s voices shouting instead of talking makes me want to throw a brick through the TV screen.
But I digress, the actual direction I was going here is that earlier this week we stumbled upon Yo Gabba Gabba and found that the wee boy likes this show. So we watched a few episodes and then suddenly one day I’m looking at it and I realize that what may seem to be your run of the mill, blobby, abstract characters may not be exactly what they appear to be. I found it somewhat peculiar and intriguing.
You see, the creators would like to think the character Muno is a tall, friendly monster. However, if you take a second look, it would seem that this big, red cyclops has a doppelganger which can be found in any sex toy shop. No, this is not a product of my perverted mind, if any of you have seen this show I’m sure you’ve come to the same conclusion. I’m not even going to get started on the fact it is covered in little bumps. Do you think this was intentional? It had to be, there’s no way that there wasn’t a single person at the studio that noticed this fact. Here, judge for yourselves:
The jury is still out on Foofa, she’s looking a little butt-plug-esque to me. Now how could the religious right have a problem with Tinky Winky and totally miss the fact that Yo Gabba Gabba is a front for The Pleasure Chest?
I’m still busy reading several Spanish books, watching DVDs and my internet soap opera, listening to educational cds and trying to remember some of the Spanish I learned in high school and college.
I find myself trying to describe everything I’m doing out loud in Spanish all the time, even when I’m out walking the dogs. At times it drives me crazy because I can’t stop it. Then when I speak English, I sometimes accidentally keep the Spanish accent or say things the way you would in Spanish. I’m frustrating myself a bit because I can’t seem to memorize vocabulary fast enough, especially the verbs.
It’s a shame I didn’t have any reason to keep up with it all these years, I had gotten pretty good at it by the time I was in college.
A friend sent me this video today, I thought it was appropriate for this post:
Let’s say that your neighbor has taken the lid to your garbage can. You prefer not to risk an interaction where the neighbor denies this or gets their panties in bunch and you’re a wimp so you never mention it.
A couple months later this neighbor goes on vacation and you’re passing by their house and spot the lid causing all that resentment to bubble to the surface so you sneak over and take the lid back.
Does this make you just as much of a jerk as the offending neighbor?
Do you just keep the lid and live with the fact that you’re a sneaky, spineless coward?
Or, do you slink back over there and put it back - sentencing yourself to a lidless garbage can as a punishment for your initial avoidance of the whole issue to begin with?
Well shave my head an call me Baldy! The wee boy is real and he is now with my associate and Nina. From what I understand, it was a real tear jerker. The foster mother really loved him. I can’t imagine spending a year with a baby and having to hand him over. I spent two days fostering my Piglet and would have killed someone who tried to take him away, I had to keep him, I can only imagine how sad she must be. This was her first foster baby.
I’m told he’s cute and giggles at everything.
I spent all day cleaning, fixing up his room, rearranging the kitchen cabinets to make room for his food etc. and organizing the attic/studio/office. I took a drawer out of the very old dresser in his room to fix it, set it on the floor and promptly forgot about it. Two seconds later I stepped back right into it and broke it even more. IDIOT. I love causing myself even more work. What a dolt. I guess I have my first task lined up for tomorrow.
On a different note, did anyone watch the Sopranos finale? What a pitiful pile of crap that was. It may be the worst final episode I’ve ever seen. The last five minutes of tension were good but the other 55 were useless. If it were just any old episode it would have been fine, but come on, it was the very last one. Eh, whatever.
So far I don’t regret the announcement I made in my last post, it’s not like me. I know I’m a bit gun-shy because we’ve had nothing but bad news for four years and I’ve grown to anticipate the rug being pulled out from under me at every turn. Plus, during this long, stressful period of time we’ve sort of lost our motivation for the whole thing so it’s been somewhat difficult to suddenly come up with enthusiasm again.
My dear associate got herself all twisted up yesterday as she became overwhelmed with the thought of traveling to pick him up and the whole idea of the life change in general. I feel bad because it’s her adoption essentially (I can’t be involved because they don’t take kindly to folks like us) and I won’t be able to be with her when she goes to get him. Actually, it may be stupid to talk about this at all on the blog. I’m hesitant every time I post something about it because I have some sort of conspiracy theorist’s paranoia, fearing there are pathetic jackasses out there trolling the internet looking for people like me so they can report us and foil the adoption.
I’m sure you all think I’m being excessive but I don’t really think it’s outside the realm of possibilities. Look how the religious right and various militant, puritanical “concerned citizens” monitor radio and TV broadcasts trying desperately to find the slightest infraction to exploit with their letter writing campaigns and sponsor boycotts. I know the five of you who read this blog don’t seem to mind people who play on the other team, but there are a lot of people out there who hate us with a passion.
Well, now that I’ve thoroughly scared myself again I guess I should just go back to work and wait for the authorities to come and get me so I can be shipped off to the island they’ve set up for all the freaks and deviants they round up. I hope it’s a warm island, if I have to live out my life with freaks and deviants, I’d at least like it to be in a decent climate.
On a less ominous note, we had some fun over at bluberd’s house Sunday. The associate skittered about the yard with Jonas and Jack while I played with my new lens.
