Downward(Exploding)Dog

The ExplodingDog Guy sent me a picture this weekend. Nevermind that it's not the phrase I asked him to draw, it's still pretty cool that I have an original for free. I'm going to target to get a frame for it tomorrow.

What do you have to say about that?

In other news, I have managed for the past several weeks not to loudly break wind in yoga class in a room full of hot girls. When upside down and straining every muscle, this is more of a feat that you might think. I'm quite proud of myself.

And with that, my dears, I bid you goodnight.

Macro.

When I was a child, I didn't know how to get much of anyplace beyong my neighborhood. I suppose I paid some attention to where my parents took me in their cars, because when it came time for me to go there on my own, I knew the way, but it didn't concern me much. The big roads that led far away were of less interest than the little ones, unexplored, that led into the woods, along streams and drainage ways and over the rooftops and alleys of the buildings in the landing below my neighborhood. This was my world.

I know now which road leads to the highway, how to get to work, to Mexico, to Los Angeles and Las Vegas. I can find the airport easy enough and once there, I can take you down pretty much any main thoroughfare in New York, some in Boston and probably a few in London or Paris. I've been much further than the old patch of trees we called "the woods" down the off Bellvue where we fought with the boys who lived closer for posession of the trees, the hideouts and streams and secret paths. I remember the different ways in, the dead end streets, and broken fences, the field at the end of Prescott Lane, where i lived, with the flat, mysterious bolder like a table at its center and abramble of blackbery bushes on one edge, next to a plant that grew and tasted like rubarb, but wasn't. I knew those places, and not much of the world outside them, and while I know a bit more of that now, I've really no idea what lies a few blocks around the corner from my house. I'm in my car and I'm off, or even on foot, I'm only off as far as the main drag, to shop or to the cafe for breakfast. I couldn't tell you what the houses look like on the next street over, who has a garden and who doesn't. As far as I can tell, there are no woods, except for the ones in the canyon a mile or so from here, but that's an official city park, with a sign and everything. There's nothing about it that feels unexplored.

I wonder if the broader knowledge I've gained has simply pushed out the detailed and familiar. Am I incapable of holding both in this place? It seems I knew a great deal more when I lived in the city, but then I lived on Amerstadam and could not for the life of me tell you what was one avenue block away on Columbus. Maybe this is OK-- to not know the intimate details of a neighborhood with the trespass I had as a child-- but maybe I need to walk more and have less aim.

Mad World...

It was two years and two days ago that both my knees went "snap" and I wound up in a wheelchair for a couple of months. This was an event that was by no means pleasant, but in addition to being a useful learning experience, catalyzed certain events for which I am very grateful, namely ending a terrible relationship. Here I am now then, fully (mostly) in-tact, thinking about my next workout, puttering around the house in my accustomed manner (and in my slippers as well) and trying to piece together what's next.

Stability has been the word of the year, but now that I've got it in my job, in my personal life and am well on the way to having it financially, it's time to start thinking more about the next one. I've got a certain clear-headedness going from not drinking for the past 22 days-- though the associated not going out late as often probably has more to do with it than alcohol consumption-- and I've certainly got more time on my hands. I've started volunteering and I've had some interest from a recruiter for a job that would be a step up a corporate ladder I've little desire to climb, but the fact is that every dollar I earn now is a dollar closer to being out of debt. I may not be in a relationship, but at least I'm catching up on my reading. My knowledge of middle-eastern culture and politics, religion, American History and micro-economics has never been better. I fear that my life has taken on a tint of normalcy with which I'm not entirely comfortable.

Maybe it's just the lack of intimate human interaction at night, since I'm not going out as much. I don't even have the myspace pretend human contact anymore. I've been seriously thinking about buying a video game system.

I Would Change For You...

...but babe that doesn't mean I'm gonna be a better man.

Day 19 off the sauce and, really, the only thing bothering me is the isolation. I'd like to go out and, at least, be around people, but the coffee shops are closing and you can only go to the Turf and order a slice of cheesecake so many times before the bartenders start to think you're nuts.

Sometimes being alone is OK, and sometimes it is not. This is alone in the general sense, as in a continued state when one comes home at night and when one wakes up in the morning, rather than alone in the moment, which is what I am right now. I digress... Sometimes it's good and sometimes it's not so bad and then sometimes it's downright terrible. I think it's somewhere around not so bad right now. I have music and my books and some writing. My friends may be sleeping, but they're around-- again in the general sense here. I have plenty of time for the gym. There's that dull feeling that starts down just below the belly and kinds of ekes out towards my heart and into the corners of my arms. I think that's lonely, but it might just be the yoga and weightlifting. It seems my hands are no longer the only part of me that is calloused.

No one wanted ice cream tonight, which was a shame. I did stop by my friends' house after yoga class for a little company, which was nice. I rinsed off in my friend's shower and used her fancy scrubbing soap with coconut and cane sugar that warms when you spread it into your skin. I smell delicious. I kind of want to eat my face off.

It's amazing how much the mood lightens around here as soon as the track changes.

You turn out the lights.

I'll know you're home safe.

I liked that, so I stole it.

I think sometimes that I have advice to give about what is right and about what I would do, should certain situations arise. Then I realize that experience has dictated that there may in deed be a wide gulf between what I would like to think I would do and what will actually happen.

There is getting what you want, and there is being who you want and sometimes I'm afraid that I'm not terribly good at the latter.

Pill Popper

Two advil in the morning and an antibiotic, followed by a vitamin, an omega 6 faty acid pill, a joint suppliment and a multivitamin. Sometimes I down them all at once with a great gulp of water, feeling them lodge in my throught for an awful moment before sliding down. There, now that's done. Another two advil with lunch, then the omega-6 and the joint one again at night. So many mental images of standing in my kitchen opening bottles and shaking out pills that I'm beginning to lose track. Did I take these already this morning or is it last night I'm remebering? I'm losing my memory. When my friend teases me for not remembering stories that she probably never told me in the first place, I'm beginning to wonder if maybe she did. Was I always this way?

I'm achy and stiff from the moment I get out of bed all through the day in my office chair or walking around the house, until I get to the gym to work out and make myself achy and still all over again. I'd say I feel old, but was't this what college was like too?

Half Windsor

I'm on my eight day without a drink. I know this, because I've just counted my morning pills. Fourty-one more and I'm having a god-damned scotch. For the time being, I'm prowling around my apartment knocking back shot after shot of OJ and watching mad hot ballroom while I wait for it to be 9:00 so my friends will call. I'd love to go to my favorite bar for a... what? A soda water and a cheesecake? Maybe, but it's Friday night and it'll be packed, and there won't be barspace, so the cheesecake's out and I can't very well go there and ask the bartenders, who I like, to pour me a soda while they're packed with paying customers.

And it is now that I remember the coffee shop and the book I've got that I really should be getting through this week before I have to give it back to the library.

News Day

Dems take back the house and maybe the senate, Donald "Rummy" Rumsfeld resigns and... WHAT! Britney is divorcing K-fed?!!!

I spend so much time foolishly monitoring election results and "voting" that I didn't even know!

On a serious note, I know I can be a bit of a nag. I'm vocal about my opinions and when someone starts telling me about their new diamond ring, I can't restrain myself from launching into the conflict diamonds diatribe. I'm trying to get better at biting my tongue. Honest. One thing I'm not going to let up on is voting. Your excuses are lame. Didn't have time? LAME! Hadn't properly researched the questions? LAME! Didn't like either candidate LAME! (vote independent then). I know, your day gets busy and you had the best intentions, but then it seems to come between the things you need to get done in your life, and making it to the polls. Maybe you didn't have time in the weeks before to study the questions. You probably put it off like me. I'm going to tell you this. Even if you go in and vote on only one issue, or for only one candidate, you must go in. It is your right, your privilege and your responsibility. It does make a difference, and even if you disagree with that, the simple act of showing up for the polls keeps democracy alive. The number of voters casting ballots for one party or another, and just the sheer numbers in general sends a message to the candidates, and to the world at large. You can't read today's news and feel that such messages will be ignored.

I don't mean to sound unnecessarily vitriolic. I'm not judging those who didn't make it to the polls, I'm just arguing with all my heart for you to make it next time. In the mean time, understand that you've lost all rights to complain. This is your country. Participate or shut up.

Call Me Gilgamesh

I remember in 9th grade when we were studying mythology, that my teacher told us about a religion that believed that the sole requirement for passage into heaven after death, was that the individual had to have had at least one friend in life. I found this both sad and beautiful. What if the person was an outcast who had problems making friends, but was really good at heart? That was the sad thought. The idea though, that the most important thing in all the world was to connect with at least one other human being, that's what I found beautiful.

I forget which culture it was that held this belief. For a long time, I had thought it was the ancient Sumerians, but it seems that they had a universally dim view of the afterlife for all, so it couldn't have been them. I've poked around a bit, and I'm unable to find it. I'm starting to think maybe my teacher was confused, on making it up, or both. Either way, I'm sticking with it.