Used To Be

Just a minute or so ago, I know
a minute or so ago
I was falling asleep
it seemed so real to me

Just a minute or so ago or so it seems
just a feeling maybe something in my dreams
and now I find myself composing this song
and I have no clue if there is something wrong
just a feeling that I ought to be asleep
yet something stirs from within, I know
something stirs from within
beyond the deep

something stirs from within, I know
that is undoing sleep
something stirs from within, I know
something beyond the deep
something stirs from within, maybe
miles to go, miles to go
something stirs from within, maybe
promises
promises
promises...
maybe promises
I meant to keep
Used to be the creativity flowed freely through the babbling and the answers to any questions (and solutions to any challenge) were revealed as easily as the rhymes flowed.

What happened?

Maybe, somehow, when I was not looking...

flowers became red and green leaves became green.

. . . o O ( pause for dramatic effect... affect too ) O o . . .
Perhaps it was something Harpo said to me earlier today. Perhaps it was enjoying a group of people in a different place doing different things tonight, people who asked for my number and who invited me to come over personally. Whatever it was, likely a combination of more than a few experiences, I found myself clicking on Facebook tonight, much at Harpo's request, to respond to invitations he told me were on FB. I did not find any invitations. Perhaps they are lost somewhere on some page of notifications and if I scrolled for a while I might find them. I wonder what should I be looking for. Perhaps FB has a specific notification section for invitations that I do not know about. Is this what growing older is about? Not keeping up with the current trends, not following the herd? For me, it is the latter and more, it is simply choosing to try to keep personal face to face and voice communication the priority in my life.

So I found myself writing this post on my FB Wall.

How did we come to this?

Will friends - I mean friends offline who have my phone number, friends who know where I live, friends who've hung out talking face to face, celebrating each other, playing games, caring, and having fun - will friends who looked into my eyes really be offended or upset or hurt because I do not come to Facebook enough to find their invitations to events amidst the hundreds of notification I find when I stop in to this online escape from reality?

If I suggest we have become too dependent on this less than personal communication medium, am I offending someone? If I suggest Facebook has alienated us and is teaching a whole generation of people how to not engage in healthy face to face relationships, am I upsetting anyone?

If I simply say - anyone who wants my attention can call me or text me and anyone who wants me to do something with them can call me or text me - is that being antisocial or rude?
Questions to ponder in this age of faceless distant communication.

Well, here is my reality - accept it or reject it. Believe it or not, if I do not have time to come here every day, that does not mean I do not love you. If I do not respond to your posts here online, it does not mean I am avoiding or rejecting you. If I do not spend time searching through notifications to find out you created a Facebook Event and invited me, that does not mean I don't like you. It simply means I do not spend much time here on Facebook.

Is that really so challenging to understand?

Let me know what you think. I want to know.

If you want a faster response, you have my number (it's been in my profile for 10 years). Take care of you and enjoy life.

I hope you make eye contact with the people you care about today (and they see you looking back into their eyes). That is where we find each other and truly communicate.

Remember? :)

If you want to find the meaning of life, look into the eyes of those you love.

Call me old-fashioned. Call me a rebel. Call me whatever you like, the point is . . . call me.

Get it?

I hope my laughter does not give you cause to be offended lol.

Narf :)

Don't Tell Me to Stop! (Just stop me)

LOL so baby what you doing with that thang in your hang don't you know it can control me if you want it to but if you try to fake it you will never make it in fact you just might break it achy leaky la. You might as well be watching the family guy as much as you could play with that toy that could put out an eye remember that time you shaved a piece off your grampa's nose or british humor. Disreali gears was something i remember in a dream but it never could replace triple chocolate ice cream speaking of dessert the cannoli was excellent but the chocolate mousse cake was what heaven must taste like (because all good children eat heaven if you must know cuz bill maher said so and de grassi said he was very funny, or something like that.

I ate more food again and more than needed and more than that and then some more. The belly is beyond bloated, it is fat and not as in holly but as in fat and the pants don't fit the way they are supposed to and the double chin has created another chin and the blood sugar level must be near comatose and the rest of the lab values would scare anyone's aunt jemina or ralph cramden's pediatrician, even. Its a madhouse, I tell ya, a madhouse.

My best friend was a flag girl.
Alone is a lonely number
in as much as everyone wants to be in love
and it's never done
no matter how deep you sleep
never done
no matter what promise you keep
never done
always fun
never done

no no no no no no o no no oh baby
you don't know what it's like
no baby
you don't know what it's like
to love somebody
to love somebody the way I love you

My best love was a twirler.

Because, you know, the world. People, on the other hand, well, people are another story. Meanwhile, softball was fun and I'm playing four days in a row again. I have three games in a row next week. I may be on another team next season. Fed up with the crap, finally, done hoping anything will change.

Life is a party and I am happy,alone again, but happy.

Moe on that (o something else) to follow

For The Distraction (or win)

The life in the world offline is simply unacceptable in a few ways, but it is very good in many ways. Super duper califragilistic ways, at least. The new job is as wonderful and near perfect as a job can be for me. I am only spending $550 a month for rent so I am buying some things I need and seeing the savings increase again. Home, however, sucks in many ways. So I seek distraction and today, I seek distraction by semi-randomly wandering through email and selecting older entries from my blogs to link here. Without reason (though there is always reason even when there is no reason if you know what I mean cha cha cha).

Yeah baby, we got it going in the right direction now lol. The random linking has always been a fun distraction even when it was not the best news (blah blah blah). The bottom line is i am what i am (I think lol) and when I had time I dreamed of saving the world, but then I sometimes lament over who might understand me even as I hope against hope to continue believing in the dream I chose to accept as who I am before I could even begin to understand the world.

Sometimes I get frustrated enough bite, though not often.

I want to believe some people may have actually known me even as I seem to deliberately forget (or perhaps I distract myself enough to use the love of writing to wander nonchalantly through memories and anything that comes along to bring me to my knees with mindless (or obscure) laughter even though that sometimes, especially when you do not discuss it, a single event can unhinged even the best of relationships and sadly, because it is never discussed, the relationship is never the same and the wedge just continues to grow and that is a whole different distraction of another colored horse riding on some storm somewhere.

So meanwhile, back in the mindless numbness of the babbling (or talking to myself or something like that or this (laughter... do you remember laughter?... lol oh please, what are you, plastic?) or what? the confrontation of self, the past, or dreams gone by, for that matter), something in the way life moves... the shortest path to the truth is often the least expected.

So this entry becomes tonight's dinner, perhaps, or at least some sort of self-mockery and above all else, distraction from the never ending surprise (disappointment if I hope for more and there's always hope, in case it matters) people can offer when trusted (if only, if only, if only). Oh, if only the waiting was not such a long long time (Ah, Linda, what could have been).

So I skip along a little like Lenka and a lot like me with the simplicity of one and a two and a three and a four and a nother one that bites the dust out of the blue.

The New Roommate

Ok, I record my life here and sometimes I cross over into another person's life when I am living with that person and they are actually physically altering my life or worse, creating discomfort or worse, preventing me from continuing to live in the space. It is a matter of survival, psychologically. It is also a matter of figuring out what is happening and how to express it to someone in a way that has the best chance of finding a mutually satisfying resolution. Or just the vent to clear my head because complaining is not just for sissies and crabs. As you see, the goal is to self-mock until I laugh at myself.

So...

Here is a thought we can both laugh at when we become friends if he has any self-awareness at all. Living with a disorganized slob can be challenging when trying to coordinate use of house facilities. I like him so it's ok to call him names. See? Laughing already.
Hopefully he has some self-awareness and he will laugh with me if he ever reads this or if I stay here long enough to speak on the subject. For now, I am taking a slow road to cleaning the china. That is, I am gradually moving his stuff off counters and gradually cleaning up behind him and gradually working through the sighs and grunts of frustration. Maybe direct confrontation is best for some people, but I've never enjoyed teaching grown people the obvious.

Besides, sometimes I feel really dumb.

For instance, tonight I had laundry on my schedule and I asked Eb if he was going to do laundry tonight and he said yes, but later. Ok, so I put a load in and he went out somewhere. Didn't say when he'd be back. When my first load was finished I pondered a few minutes and then put a second load in. When my third load was finished I pondered a few minutes and put a third load in. My third load finished and I have a fourth load, but it is 11:30pm and he's still not back and I am going to not do my fourth load. He may have changed his plans and will get home and go to bed, but then I still have laundry to do and tomorrow... will he decide to do laundry?

So he gets home at 2am and I'm still awake (so I could have done the rest of my laundry), and I find out that his friend's house burned down and that's where he was.

See, really dumb. That's me.

He seems to be one of the nicest guys I've ever met. Boldly giving where no man has given before. It's an inside joke. You had to be there. Or something like that. He'll be the first to tell you all about it, but hey, we all have our insecurities and he is genuinely trying to improve himself by losing weight for charity. He volunteers for more than a few community service organizations and organizes many different community events. So what if he has no clue how to share space with a roommate. The kitchen table, the kitchen counters, the stove top, the microwave, the sink, the couches, the bathroom counters, the hallway, most of the floor... nothing has been cleared (no less cleaned) since I've been here and that is more than a month now. The week before I moved in, when I signed the lease, he said he was going to clean it all.

So I don't cook here. I don't use the kitchen stove or counters. I don't sit at the kitchen table. I don't have anything in the bathroom. There's not even a place for a clean towel. I don't sit on the couch. Until this week. I moved stuff off a seat on the couch and sat to watch a video. The couches are very old and very uncomfortable. Everything is so old. His plan is to retire at 50 so he lives frugally and forgoes comforts for that retirement plan. I'm not sure why he forgoes cleanliness. Maybe he just likes clutter. His assistant will have a lot of work when he becomes Mayor. Yes, that's one of his goals. I don't know, anything is possible.

After work he does community service. When he is home he watched Star Trek. There is an antenna station (no cable) that plays all the Star Trek series one after the other every evening, so it fills the evening past midnight. Trek, NG, DS9, Voyager, Enterprise. Not that that I am not a serious geek (or is that nerd? Trekker, Trekkie, hey, whatever, I've seen them all a few times, at least).

Still, I wonder if he is as blindly unaware as he appears. He lives as if I do not live here. He said he would clean but he doesn't, so there are two options, clean up behind him or eat out, do laundry at a laundromat, and clean the bathroom before I use it - every time.

Or move out.

I am paying way too much to be his maid and not have access to cooking, laundry, or a bathroom so while we can laugh about it later, for now, this is not acceptable. He's left his laundry all over the place, including in the washer and dryer for two weeks so the only way I can do a wash is confront him by moving all of his stuff or go out to a laundry. I went out to buy ore clothes so I can go another week without doing a wash, but it is definitely why I am disrespecting his privacy and writing this entry.

Writing this lets me process the complete lack of sensitivity, courtesy, and hospitality. Writing this lets me wait here a bit longer without confronting him so I am not forced to move out sooner than is right for me. Writing this lets me accept he is not doing it on purpose a bit longer because it he was, he could be so blindly self-absorbed and narcissistic that confronting him could be dangerous.

Hopefully we will laugh at that possibility one day when he s Mayor. He says the Mayor and Police Chief and many other city and County leaders are best buddies and have been to his house (I wonder if he cleaned the place first). He says they want him to run for Mayor. He says he is on the Board of Directors of a half dozen or more local community organizations. He says he runs a lot of really big community events in the city and in the county. Some of his self-promoting claims are a bit wilder than that. He says he earns really big money (many thousands) for charity all the time and he is supposed to be on a weight loss challenge that will earn $50,000 for a charity but he's eating way to many calories (including protein shakes and ice cream and pizza and M & Ms and icing from the can) to be losing much weight.

A strange dude, this new roommate.

Maybe he is deciding that the rent is not worth sharing the space and encouraging me to go by completely dong the opposite of what he said he would do (clean). Maybe he is deliberately living a complete slob's life (including grease and food crumbs everywhere) because he wants me out. But he has not welcomed me since day one, not even to clear a spot for me to sit at the table or couch - no less clean the stove, microwave, or kitchen counters which just get dirtier and stickier as the days pass. Maybe he is too nice a guy to ask me to leave and this is his way of confronting others to get what he wants.

Or maybe he is simply an inconsiderate filthy slob.

We shall see what will be, but for now, I've tried spending some time with him, moved stuff off couches so I had a place to sit, cleaned the kitchen counter so I could make food, cleaned the bathroom daily, and cleaned the laundry area so I could wash clothes but it's worse than ever today so... I take it one day at a time and stay I'll just stay in my room when I am here. Always hopeful this will end in laughter.

This May Not Belong Here

But here it is anyway and dozens of entries are in the pipeline awaiting review and uploading because, as I may have said somewhere or other (or perhaps only in my dreams or elsewhere, a place I often visit lately), they were not actually written for this or any blog... they were written for letters to J or for my own meandering (and rushed, especially lately, with reasons yet to be shared here [insert link to explanatory notes after they are written and uploaded] due to lack of time) so hold your horses of many colors and keep your rainbow shirts on, patience shall be rewarded eventually if you are one waiting for new babbling blog posts.

I love you for that, really, I do. And now, with even more ado, today's offering.

wow, again... time passes and silence fills the void... perhaps the void is silence... one and the same... or two peas in a pod... what is the difference?... rhetorical question... are we clamoring for more?...

So I lol yeah as I read this and see I do #1 all the time. It is my pasttime, my pleasure, my egocentric occupation (or is that vocation), my play, my therapy, my gift to the universe (for what it's worth) and most of all, my gift to myself. I wonder how many people are alive today with a mindset that can understand what I mean in these words. That can be a sad thought when I want to believe in people, share with people, find friends, and find the one, but I am not in the mood to be sad today so it remains the philosophical musing it is without personalized emotive (conjecture, transference, complication, or something like that).

One of the main goals of your blog is to provide valuable information for your readers.

How intrusively presumptuous. As if this is the only reason to wrote or blog? This culture so desperately fears the unknown or individuality that it pushes conformity even as it proposes individuality. It is so very sad (but I don't feel like being sad) that so many people fall into line and march to the same purpose in life as if there is only one right way to be.

I move on to #2 and wonder... is this what the world is coming to? Everything is competition? Grabbing attention? How about creatively reflecting the content of the writing? Oh, but content is not the point, grabbing attention and selling yourself and winning is the point. Winning is everything. No wonder we've become a mass-produced suicidal culture.

Then #3 makes me puke.

I move on. That's right, all that meaningless complaining leads to a cliff and we just jumped off. I won't even mention #3, nor will I consider relating any of the rest of the blogging advice from WIX to you because it assumes you are an idiot who has just one purpose in blogging, to sell yourself or your product to your readers. It is even more insulting to you, readers, assuming you want just one thing as you peruse the web. Just one format will please you. Just one way of writing or doing things will suffice. It's like religion, don't think, just follow.

All I tried to do was find an idea to change the look of my back door cuz it's been the same look for almost twenty years and as an artist friend of mine told me some years back, "it's cute, so 90's, retro" and she was offering a compliment with a smile. I've always loved her mysterious intimacy and as usual, she lead me to exactly what I needed to counter the ridiculous pigeon-hole reasoning offered by that leading blog site about how to properly blog. Talk about breaking all the rules for being concise and blah blah blah, aye?

So as if on queue, she haunts me away from the complaint department and inspires me to wake my tumblr blog up again. I am in more demand there than I am here (shhhh, don't tell my millions of adoring fans) and I am almost never there. Go figure.

You give it all and you are taken for granted, even used and discarded or ignored. You barely give anything and you are begged for more. Humans. I really think their appreciation perspective is warped beyond reason.

Of course we can just say narf as I often do :)

Narf :)