News Of The World !

Again, this was written some time ago. I was reluctant to post it. But by popular demand, here it is. Have fun.

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I was happy today. Then I cried. But I had a good reason. And I'm not going to tell you what it is. But then I was happy again.

I ate two peaches. You have no freaking idea how difficult it has been for me to learn how to properly let a peach ripen. Somehow I manage to always make them stay hard, and then they immediately rot. Don't ask how, I don't know, it's just a fortunate trait I seem to possess. And so I had two peaches turn out great. Soft. Juicy. Actually very juicy. I made a delicious mess. At work on my desk. Oh well. I also ate an apple.

I had coffee. A bunch. Well, a bunch for me. I really haven't been much of a coffee drinker as I've gotten older. Lately I've made a swing back. I think it's the proliferation of fancy coffee joints, like Starbucks, Coffee Bean, Tully's, Peets, et al. in the last ten years that has brought me around. I used to just drink black regular coffee. Pretty harsh by today's standards. Sort of like back in the day when the only martini you could get was a gin martini, and not good gin at any rate. I think fluid intake for pleasure has reached an all time high in its paletteability in recent times. I just made up a word.

Today is Saturday and I'm at work, but I got a moment to write. I write a lot these days. In fact, I think I'm also writing a book. I haven't written in years. A book would be a nice accomplishment in this life, whether or not it were to be published. I can't really imagine being published. I have no point of reference for that sort of thing.

Sometimes I feel like Carrie from Sex and the City. I mean, I'm a guy but she's got all those shoes. But that's not it. I come to a time in my day, alone, and mulling over myself, my life, events in my day or week, in my friend's lives around me, you know, *everything* and sometimes something grows from whatever seed has been planted through those times. It's really nice. I haven't written much in a *very* long time, and although I'm exceedingly rusty, I am starting to feel some of the cobwebs coming loose. Very cool when you see progress, especially when it's back towards something you once had. Like getting back into shape. That is something I've done over the past two years. I went from being the heaviest I've ever been in my life, to almost the weight and physical condition I was in during high school. Of course the cardiovascular system is lagging the most, I'm still pushing it a bit. When I'm not working overtime and sitting at a desk. In the dark. Turning into a blob.

Man that paragraph rambled.

So, back to Carrie. I get to this moment, sometimes everyday, sometimes only occasionally during the week and I am compelled to right this self aware thoughtful whatever. Honestly I think I am closely examining my life. I used to write fantasy stories, horror or scifi, or horror-scifi. Now I am more interested in writing what reflects real life, real people and real experiences. Or something close to that. It's actually pretty satisfying. As if I am now swimming with the tide, instead of fighting my way against it.

I don't know. I have been tending to write stuff like this and it feels strange because it's new to me, never having kept a journal or diary or anything like that. Keeping a journal always seemed laborious to me. And silly. Today I ate a peach. Today I talked to my mother on the phone. Today I fell on my head. Strange. But that's pretty much what I'm doing right here. I find myself in a strange place that I don't recognize and I'm looking around wondering how I got here and I have no map of the terrain.

I wear my great-grandfather's ring on my wedding-ring finger. To keep girls away. It's just a ring he had, not his wedding ring. It is strange I know, but I need to be alone in that department. Things have changed for me regarding women. There is one out there, maybe, and that's how it's going to happen. I'm done screwing up that part of my life. However long it takes. It's just how my guts feel. It's an odd feeling, I've never experienced it before, and it isn't unwelcome. Like the change as I get older, peaches or apples taste better than candy did when I was young. They're better for you and that's what has to happen in my life. Something a bit more healthy. If I can't have something good for me I'd rather go without. I guess that's quite a bit different than, almost everybody I know. Except for one man. He is a friend of mine I don't see often, but he a *great* human being. I look up to him in many regards. I don't think he even knows this... that's pretty cool.

I'm becoming rather self absorbed. Well, for me it seems self absorbed. I've always been pretty modest. I never cut up in class. I always kept to myself when I was young and drew pictures or wrote stories. The older I get, the more of a jackass I've become. I do things to piss people off, but only if it makes them laugh in the end. I drive my co-workers nuts. I seem to be a late bloomer class clown of some kind. I think it's just an attention thing. I never wanted attention before, and now I do. Self-absorbed. For some time (about 6 years now) I've been having pictures taken of me toasting with my coffee mug. I have no idea what that's about, I just do it. But it's all about me really. Maybe I'm on some voyage of self discovery as they call it. I guess we all are in a way. I just never figured it out until recently. Better late than never.

I have a touch of bronchitis right now. I guess I had some sort of lung thing after I was born. Oxygen tent and that whole bit. Now I get bronchitis on occasion, but usually only if I get run down. Stress and drink will bring it on, two things that attack your immune system. Seems reasonable, right?

I use gmail to write my blogs. I think that's weird. Actually it's not. Gmail is accessible where ever I go, so it makes sense. I have FOURTEEN blogs at one stage or another right now in my drafts folder.

I dress nice. The nicest I've ever dressed. I like it. Hell, I used to think suits were for slaves, and now I'd wear one everyday, because they kick so much ass. I never realized before how rich the world is and how much it has to offer. I was always so busy going against the grain. I never listened to 'radio'. I didn't even own a TV until 6 years ago, and at that never really watched it. And I *definitely* didn't watch anything popular. Except Simpsons. But I didn't like them until season 3 or 4 anyway, because everybody else *did* like them. I just couldn't ever be like anybody else. I still think I'm not like anybody else, but now I've pulled my head out of my ass and I've realized I don't have to try so hard out of fear of being mistaken for a MTV or GQ clone, to be different, to just be myself.

I'm growing a beard. For no good reason. We'll see how long this lasts. I look quite a lot like my father with it. Which actually startled me in one photograph I saw. The resemblence was freakish. I don't think I look that great with a beard. I mean, I can carry it off just fine, but, personally, I think I am more handsome when shaved. Which is how I prefer my face. Clean shaven is the way to go lately. I guess the beard is like a time out in the facial hair grooming department. I think this goes with the ring wearing I mentioned above. Chicks in general don't dig beards. Maybe I should just stop showering. Or even putting on clothes...

I was onstage tonight. I perform improv. Not stand-up. I have no desire or talent for stand-up. But improv with a group, creating scenes and stories out of nothing, live. It is a crazy rush. As much as playing any sport I've tried. It can be a bit physical, I was thrown around a bit tonight, you know, being stabbed, punched, hit in the face with a door, falling down an escalator. Of course all those things are make-believe, but you're still falling and rolling for real on the stage. I've come off stage with a few scrapes and bruises. One torn tendon and a twisted knee once. That's really rare though, and certainly nothing near what could ever happen for you in a football or soccer game. But it's not even that, although it's fun to be energetic and create this worlds that become very real physically, it's the psychological rush. You have to pay a lot of mental attention, to what your teammates are creating, what they are saying, what story is evolving, who their character or personality is. And then you have to make appropriate choices, and grab random accidents that happen and explore them and bring life to them. All these things in a split second. It really is quite a rush when it is going well. I'm so happy to be involved in this. And the people I have around me here in this are some great people.

*Addition to the improv injury list: I got backhanded in a big way this past weekend by a girl. Damn. I tasted blood. My gums are black and blue. Heheheh. She got a good one in on me... accidentally right?*

Life is good. For all of it's crazy unexpected twists and turns.

Something snapped in me recently. Something in my brain. It's been straining for a long while I think and finally... finally it gave up. It couldn't resist any longer. And you know what? It's sort of like a spinal adjustment, or cracking your knuckles. It actually feels good, although I'm not sure how to navigate it just yet. Like that first time you ride a bicycle. It sure is fun and exciting, but you haven't quite figured out how to work with the machine, so the two of you can get along down the road without one of you messing up the other. I'm taking a few spills, but I'm also experiencing a new joy I don't think I've felt since... in a long damn time. And now with the added perspective of experience. Like having some lifetime of knowledge and also getting back a bit of that childlike naivety or wonder.

That is the current state of affairs, this second weekend of September '06. Whether or not you care is trivial. I suppose if you've read this far I must hold some sort of fascination, whatever that may be.

It's interesting to put my day into perspective and see what is going on in my life. How many of us actually take a moment to look at this stuff, things that we choose and things that happen everyday that are forgotten as soon as they pass? And something that I find fascinating, is just how much stuff I am missing in this. There has to be five times as much stuff that swims past my conscious mind while trying to capture these few moments, than what is actually here in writing.

For the record I am rather uncomfortable with writing out my life like this.