Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Stupification

Feeling the lonelies coming on hard tonight. Stopped for food on the way back from the hospital and thought about some chocolate for dessert, but passed because the food was more calories than I burned today. Now I crave chocolate. I can't keep any in this place because I eat it all too fast. Too many calories, too much money.

Some things not even food can allieve.


Another day at work at the desk tapping out more and more stuff, following up on incidents and emails, pushing the people who need to be pushed to do their job. I didn't get everything done, one more important thing to find tomorrow morning and then get over to the place for the meeting and making sure everything works there. Wanted to get that done today, but turns out my boss told me to use the wrong room and corrected that when I asked him about it today. Guess it was just a misunderstanding. Luckily I was able to find another room at the last minute and hopefully everyone checks their email before the meeting tomorrow afternoon.

Weave this into the babble, m/ok?

I can always dream...


What?


Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Productivity Feels Good, Creativity Feels Better

Still, I really ought to head home and get some dinner and do some exercise and ... wait, what? Exercise? I almost couldn't spell it the second time. As if I do exercise other than softball? Strange mood this creative productivity brings on. Yeah, so I could sit here for hours rambling on getting hungrier and hungrier but that would probably drive me to buy some more food and I am already waaaay over budget for the month ($700 unexpected expense) and the belly is as expanded as it's been in many years and the heart and vital organs don't like that much and to hell with the taste buds, right? Well, the taste buds have been saying to hell with me and life for quite some time ow so we shall see who wins the battle tonight. If only there was someone I could call or text who might care and be a good influence, but I've reach a point of ambivalence and self-indulgence that could very well kill me if I don't stop soon.

So hey there, how are you? lol lam sigh :)

I don't know why I don't put some food in the fridge here. Part of the reason is I really don't feel welcome here. The senior coordinator rarely makes eye contact, sometimes doesn't even say good morning, and my desk is two feet from where she must pass to get to the fridge and break rm, which is the back half of my office. Her files are in ere too. Maybe her dislike of me is because I am in what she has considered her space. The last guy didn't last long I hear. That could also be because the boss is a serious micromanager. I didn't even know there was a guy in my position as he gave me the impression he was doing both his job and my job for a couple of years. He gave me no access to the guys files and spoon feeds me the files and folders I need to do my job so I research and create what I need and then he tells me I should use what he created five years ago. No need to recreate the wheel is one of his favorite sayings. It would be nice if he have me the wheels I am supposed to not recreate because I need them to do my job so I create my own and then feel like I wasted my time It's tough to be not permitted to put my stamp on anything. Half the County still calls him when they want the Safety Office and his voice mail says you've reached the safety office, not the Risk Manager. He obviously does not want to let go of the position.

My need for reassurance after my last few positions doesn't help.

This latest project is the biggest of them all by far since I've been here and he might not like it, but I am not running all the documents I am creating by him and I am modifying the documents he gave me so it reads as if I wrote it. We have very different writing styles. His is full of commas, like this, and this, which is a southern schooling style. I do the same in my rambling babbling free associative writing here but when writing formal documents for business or government I follow the books like The Elements of Style by Strunk and that other one. Maybe he's right i his school, I was never the grammatician, nor a neologist, after all.

It is time to get going though, see you later?

There's always hope...

Narf :)

Monday, January 29, 2018

Naturellemont

Mount Natural, ever been there? Everybody seems to be struggling to climb Mount Normal and they do not see the self-defeating futility in the effort. Just look at the eternal hunger of unattainable goals and how it distorts logic, reason, and rational being. We could retire to lemons and laurels or maybe even Evangline Lily and in another life, I grew up with these kids.

Still, I am still wide awake even though no one is here with me tonight and everyone I've ever loved has left me here alone to die alone (unless someone else comes along before I die cuz there's always hope ya know and I could provide dozens of links to prove it if it wasn't way past my bedtime and anybody cared). Now I am hungry again and the next day is work tomorrow in just a few hours and there is no one to call or text or hug or love anywhere at all right now.

So I distract myself with whatever I can find... in about two hours from now :)


You don't know Ashleigh? We go back to the 60's old Ashleigh and me, but then, you had to be there. I miss the drugs sometimes. Definitely miss the love. The sex wasn't bad either. How often do you masturbate now? Some guys have all the luck, a partner that stays for endless decades through all the highs and lows and in betweens. Me, all I've got to show for all the love I gave is a bloated belly and an itchy butt. Are you distracted enough yet?

Narf :)

Exhausterated, Again?

I believe exhausterated was explained in a previous entry and the jist of the, wait, I think I mean gist, but anyway, the gist of the point of the word is a feeling of exhaustion beyond exhaustion at the point where detachment from the body and the physical plane sounds and feels like a good idea because the body is so tired it aches at core cellular places otherwise not noticed during ordinary exhaustion like the abdominal cavity (all the major organs) just want to turn off creating an ache of death, or something like that.

So I laid down and fell asleep at two or three or for o;clock in the afternoon and except for three or four or five trips to the bathroom, I woke with the alarm at six AM and could still sleep some more except for the lower abdominal cavity aching from being horizontal too long and the rest of the body aching from muscle fatigue. Must have been a heck of a work out at softball practice yesterday, no doubt. And lack of sleep, much lack of sleep.

Softball tonight should be interesting.

I wonder if this is all just part of the natural aging process in this human body when the body does not get enough rest and sleep and balanced nutrients. I cut back on the vitamins and supplements I usually take hoping that would have some positive effect on the lingering rash and maybe that is having an unforeseen effect of extra fatigue. Vitamins are important stuff, ya know?

Recovery time has increased dramatically, alas.

I suppose I should consider another body blog entry and I suppose even more that I should actually write in the body blog more often but there is so little time for the hours and hours I want to spend on this self-indulgent writing I love to do for myself and anyone who might ever care someday. Arms are tired at the moment. I'd be writing prone if I had a comfortable way to do that but in the current body condition the air mattress would not be a comfortable prone writing position, especially not for the bloated belly and other sore muscles.

At least I woke an hour early so I can get this writing time. I don't have the clock and calendar on my desktop like I do at work. Windows 7 was and is so much better than Windows 10 for my user experience. Like Microsoft cares about the use experience even a little.

Meanwhile, this belly bloat is really not fun at all.

Fun, exhausting weekend out playing with friends past 4 AM both Friday and Saturday nights and didn't get more than four hours sleep either night and softball Friday night and Sunday morning (the Saturday league is on hiatus) and life is good (didn't get hit in the head and die, in case it matters {though I caught one that would have got me in the head if I didn't catch it... considering a mask more and more every day, but I just don't like them}... yea, reading about that guy Greg who died has me wondering about life and who cares and would I get a memorial page and should I wear a mask and a lot more stuff that comes to mind when exhausterated), even alone and lonely (sigh, alas, and all that jazz lol lam).

Tie to head out to work... hope you are loved and sharing caring and having fun :)

Narf :)



Sunday, January 28, 2018

Sitting In The Car

Ok, Two and a half hours early on a Sunday morning... softball practice is usually 8 AM - 11 AM Sunday mornings at Matthews Park in College Park, but --- sent an email to change that to Merrill Park in Altamonte, but I didn't remember so I went to Merrill. I also didn't catch the time, which changed to 10 AM - 12 Noon. The temperature is wonderful right now at 7:45 AM and it may be close to 80 degrees by noon. So here I sit, first at the wrong field and now at the right field and it is 8:30 and I ave an hour and a half to wait. That's if everybody is on time lol.

Life is fun, even without a partner to enjoy the high that comes from sleep deprivation. I close close my eyes and sleep for an hour and a half, or at least for an hour, but for the moment I am taking advantage of the computers, the Ideapads that I've complained about recently because Microsoft screwed Lenovo with an update tat makes this machine obsolete. It is still an offline portable word processor and file cabinet, and just a couple of decades ago I dreamed of having one of these to give me the ability to write and save words electronically anywhere I felt like writing... so complaining I am not, much. Just need to spend more money on a better home computer and an SD card for this one and jump throw another couple or few hoops for the free OS.

I could drive over to a coffee show or restaurant and connect to Wifi (and get the annoying Windows Update messages) and check the email --- sent about time and place of practice today, but he texted to confirm the place and time and I really do not need more food or coffee as I had dinner and unch within three hours of each other last night and neither meal was lightweight. Pasta with heavy sauce for lunch, chicken and cheese wraps for dinner, not light bread or cheese. The more soda than I've had in months. So the belly that holds up this laptop in the car (against the steering wheel) should be stuff, but it is expanding way more than it eer did before because I am ore lazy about my abdonimal muscles than I've ever been before and that is the path toward dying big time so no, going to a food place it not a good idea.

Did you know that David Bowie's Major Tom was a reference to an older song by the same name? Peter Schilling, a one-hit-wonder. Look it up and you may even recognize the song. Reminds me a bit of Euro-pop. Meanwhile, I meant to include this video in a recent entry so here it is now.

Just a little side stop distraction as I drift off into the music on the radio. time for a nap.

Narf :)

Another Four AM

To Be...

Saturday, January 27, 2018

Challenges Never Sleep

Yes, so in spite of the facts of life when using a Microsoft product and the most recent annoyances, there are much more important challenges in this life and thankfully, bitingly amusing ways to bring those issues to our attention.


Yeah, love Tracey Ullman, even if I don't have time to get into the babble that should be let out because the head is kind of cluttered today. If only there was more exposure to empathic experiences as a natural part of the education process instead of the forced conformity and stereotyping instilled by fear, we might have a chance of survival as a species. Unfortunately the walls go up very early in life and there is little communication, no less understanding of others experiences, so actually feeling compassion and sympathy is much more self-directed and segregated to be real, effective, or meaningful.

That's one big reason why it is so easy for people to go to war and hate and fear. The walls are taught from early childhood and though most differences and stereotypes and fears are illusions, some delusions, they are accepted as real in reality by the majority and the majority makes the truth what it is, no matter what the truth might be.

Meanwhile, I am spending time uploading more content to The Facebook Pages today. Some of the pages have more than fifty likes and followers, which is inspiration for me to continue scheduling posts for them. So many pages, though, and so little time. I'd love you to check them out and give me your opinion some time. I don't screen all of the articles in read-every-word details, so I dearly hope I am not letting so hurtful stupid articles or video slip through. Someday, someone will want to see all I've done, I've got to keep believing that to give this life meaning, especially during these extremely solitary years.

I am going to Harpo's tonight for food and games, but I am hungry so I will eat something soon. He is clueless when it comes to food I like even though he thinks he knows me well and he's asked and I've told him many times. I eat so his feelings don't get hurt, but the foodie sometimes dreads going over for dinner. He rarely cooks anything on my favorites list and usually has bland food I would not eat by my choice. For one thing, he insists on serving all the food using his hands without gloves, heating it in the microwave when needed, and deciding on portions which is a total turn off for me on many levels. He means well though and worked in catering along the way (though it's been decades since he had an actual job), so he insists he knows better than his guests, but I and a few others tel him we will serve ourselves if he wants us to eat and enjoy his dinners and he sometimes gets the message.

Anyway, I've got to get some food in me and then get ready to go so... good day all.

Hope you are having fun and enjoying life.

Narf :)





Friday, January 26, 2018

The End of Microsoft

It was said briefly, it was said in meaningless complaints, and it is said again here. Repetition makes it real. I will not trust another Microsoft product. I already do everything I can to avoid Microsoft products, but I have hung in there with MS computers because I do not have the money to splurge on an Apple and I don't have the knowledge to install and use Linix.

As I said, I said it like this...

Yes, MS killed Lenovo and every other company making small computers by giving them Windows 10 and then within the warranty period, making those small computers obsolete. So I turned off Windows Updates. So I will no longer consider this computer secure. So I need another computer for anything other than blogging. I want to save up for an Apple, but that might be a while. I will hope Kaspersky continues to protect my personal information in spite of the lack of Windows updates. Except my years with the Atari ST1040 pre-PC times, I've known no other OS since Win3.1 and it is sad, but finally time to leave MS behind.

Meanwhile, the day was as most days are, work, then food, then play.

You know where to find the details (right here).

Narf.


Yes, right here are the details left out of the brief blog (and sometimes the brief blog can be found here too, like that right there above right here, in case it matters. The fact is I deliberately choose Chrome not so much before t is a better or faster browser, but simply mostly and primarily because it is not Microsoft. I do believe I will have a T-shirt printed with the words NOT MICROSOFT on the front, especially if I ever go to a geek gathering again.

Sleep an more tomorrow.

Narf :)

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Circular Life

So, I find my phone was busy today. More robo sales calls, a couple of calls I didn't answer and a text too. The text was from a potential roommate. A married guy moving to this area because he is taking a job here. I just texted him back asking if he planned on moving his family here. I don't want a short term roommate, after all, since it's been a year and I haven't found a roommate and I don't want to try to live (or not live) just to pay rent on a two bedroom I can't find someone to share. Unless he's be interested in slumming a bit and we could find a reasonable safe slum place. I think I can deal with that as long as I have space for my stuff and can lock the place well and have safeguards and insurance. Maybe.

Then I find there are seventeen... 17!... yes, seventeen messages on the roommate site.

Not... good ... news.

One of the seventeen was from the guy who texted me. The other sixteen were from one guy or girl. Someone I told no to last night because the place is way off my travel path. Ok, I checked, he's a retired gay male. Retired is not a good thing, could be always there and could be explorative if he is home a lot. He gave me his number. He gave me his address. I expect the keys to his house in the mail. Don't believe me? judge for yourself.

Well, don't judge lol, just check it out.

Wow, so once again I am awake past midnight and back-timing an entry so the date gets the entry about the date. It's becoming too much a habit of late, to get less than eight hours sleep, in fact, to get less than six. There was a time when four hours sleep was more than enough, but in recent years, less than six hours sleep catches up with this body and results in aches and pains, especially the left neck pain and the tinnitus too.

I did do three large loads of laundry amidst all that and this and watching the TV out of the corner of the eye, so the evening of giving up sleep was at least much much more productive than last night. Not more creative, but then, last night was not very creative either. You can find creativity and depth splattered throughout this blog and others, a few times a month and sometimes a bit more (used to be an average of three rhymes a day fr years, but like does take it's turns and ways, you know.

Just not here and now.

I know you're out there somewhere, caring in your silence...

Wishing me well while I am wishing for more...

There's always hope...

and Narf :)

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Searching For So Long

Remembering the Chicago song, then Chicago, then Jackson who's from there, then all the friends and family I've lost along the way no matter how much I gave, and hope, still hope lives. Seven hours of watching The Outer Limits and sending out messages to possible roommates on the roommate website.

I'm looking to share an apartment or house in a safe part of Sanford, Lake Mary, Altamonte, or Longwood. I have a washer dryer in storage and I'd love to stop paying for storage so if I could find a place that has washer dryer hook up but does not force their washer dryer that would be great. I'd like a split plan 2 bed 2 bath. Also have a lot of kitchen stuff.


Bits and pieces of me and what I am looking for. The right words, searching for the right words that might get someone to respond. And then a response, but exactly what I am not looking for, a room in someone's house. People don't read profiles or messages, they just offer what they have even to someone who clearly says that is not what I am looking for.

But then there's a guy who inspires this...

Even your profile was calming, very cool. I knew complete conscious awareness more than once in this lifetime. I taught myself to be more like most humans and shut down much of this brain. Maybe you understand what I mean. I did it to share more equally with someone, but it has not worked. Maybe I should turn what's left of the brain on again. I just want a friend who really understands me. See what your profile inspired? :)

Anyway, I am looking to share space in a specific area because I don't have time for long travel to work or play. I play softball at least two nights a week and want a place between work and softball. Sanford, Lake Mary, Altamonte, Longwood, not far from I4, preferably.

So maybe you want to know me. I am a giver. I love to give and help others. Unfortunately, that leaves me needing to work, probably until the day this body can not do something for money anymore because I've given away everything more than once. Houses, cars, living space, college tuition, all sorts of stuff... add it all up, a lot. I kept telling myself to stop and start planning for 'retirement' but giving may be an addiction for me (oh, those brain chemicals feel so good). I laugh and say somebody will stop me and give back somebody, but until then, I'll just keep adopting people and helping them through life.

You want to know more, feel free to ask. I very much welcome a caring, aware, awake person as I do not know one these days. I wonder if I am one myself sometimes. After all, I have only one perspective (or so logic suggests) and it takes two points to draw a line. :)

Friends? Roommates? Let's see?


I even wrote to people who were not anywhere near the right location just to say hello to potential friends. Searching for a friend continues too. As the loneliness pounds as fatigue swallows me. The neck is stated to ache. And the sense of humor continues to be ridiculous.

Wait, 2000+ a month? Want to adopt me? lol. My roommate has to have a sense of humor. If you laughed, we've got a shot. So ask what you need to know, read my profile, explore my facebook, do what you must do to decide (if you haven't already).


A few of the messages I sent out tonight just to show what I've been doing tonight. So tired now. Too tired to even want to shower in spite of needing a shower rather badly.

Sleep or shower, now.

Narf :)

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Wholly Poopdeck, Batman

I have the blogs to keep track, even though I do not use them regularly. I have misplaced the two new doctors that the doctor who seems to care enough to listen and refer me to others gave me. I must find them or somehow find a way to ask that nicer doctor for the names and numbers again. In any case, the dietary choices I make could be (is likely) a large contributor to the body issues I have experienced over the past couple of years just as the living conditions and self-care (and lack thereof) I have subjected this body to are just as likely culprits, but sheesh, sometimes the digestive system can be amazing.

As I mentioned in the brief blog today (in case it matters), the dietary choices (and for today and recently, the eating too much) is now going on the record here in this blog world even if you are not here and I boldly go where no blogger has gone before (if you have, please show me) to challenge anyone to care and read and respond and whatever. As I am shouting from the rooftops all over the world lately, life is sharing, after all.

And the links spread their wings thusly:

As if out of the blue, yet seemingly long forgotten, though time being relative, long is a matter of perspective as a concept or a measure of time and whatever that may mean to you, this was supposed to mean something, profound, even. Revealing as all get out. Kinda of like this, but oh so much more. Beyond my control, by design. As if it was meant to be not, I seem to do it regularly and each time (oooohhhh, listen {oo wah oo} do you want to know a secret {ooo wah ooo} do you promise not to tell {oh wah oh oh} closer.... ahem), I want there to be no way out and still somehow, I find ways. Ways to forget. Ways to laugh at all the momentary mundane drama we create as if we are so important and what we think and do matters so much and laguishing in a dirty bath of wonder and self-pity, silently screaming who cares to the universe over and over again singing hello darkness my old friend and meandering as if simultaneously nothing really matters and nothing else matters when we all know nothing from nothing leaves nothing... oh! the places we could go (or could have gone, perhaps, but the record of a life is broken because it never really started and it succumbed to time and the elements in storage all these years (before the deluge, even... before time itself, no doubt> - and see the madness and emo, if you dare) and no one seems to really want to know what makes me tic anymore, if anyone ever did, in case it matters.


So as you may have heard in brief mention, today started out early. I woke and dressed to go to softball practice (that starts at 8:00 AM 40+ minutes away) but realized after half dressing that I did not have softball practice today because the Sunday league had their Fun Day later today, so I went back to sleep. I then woke a couple or few of hours later and dressed and splashed water on my hair and headed to the fields for Sunday Fun Day.

I still have not showered from Friday night softball, in case that matters to you. I think I am experimenting with natural body oil recipes for the anal plague I've been suffering for years (oh, so dramatic I can be, aye?) and I don't want to jinx it, but it may be working.

Maybe.

Anyway, the semi-annual try-outs for the Sunday league (Sunday Fun Day) happen twice a year (you may have read somewhere they are semi-annual) and I help rate the newbies to sort them into the playing level they belong (so they don't get hurt playing against better players until they become better players). It was the usual fun and politics as team managers over around trying to get a glimpse of the rating I give players they might want for their team. It is less organized than I would like and that makes it more challenging to rate properly, but we do the best we can and continue assessing the newbies as we review ratings of all players for the first five games of every season to insure they are rated properly for their own safety and because it's the rules of our national softball league.

I mentioned to the league board that they should consider having the new players sign a waiver so they can't sue the league or the city or county if they got hurt during this activity that the league invited them to, organized, directed, and supervised. Good idea, everyone said. It is a very small clique of the same people running the league for many years and they have their ways and secrets and I really think they mean well and I used to be more a part of the inner circle but I got tired of the politics and sit on the sidelines mostly now. Though I do get asked by the ratings committee chair to stay involved with the ratings committee and he seems to respect and value my input a lot. Thank you, I appreciate that.

After that I met Tinman and his mom and daughter and Sarducci at Sweet Tomatoes, a salad buffet, for lunch. Anyone thinking they are eating healthy or light when they go there is fooling themselves. I'm think the buffet is more suspect than most buffets in terms of cleanliness, sanitation, and healthiness. There are greens, however, and that equates to healthy for many. Tinman got sick and spent half an hour in the bathroom before we left. He blamed the greens.

I had, as the new food blog says (you have found the new food blog, right?), salads and chili (two kinds with multiple cheeses, bacon, and sour cream) and soups and pasta and bread and a sweet potato and butter and mountain dew and ice cream. I don't know why I am so suicidal lately and I don't know why I am not putting my foot down (or in my mouth) and pulling the plug on the trough of calories pouring into this body (I mean besides the fact that I want Jackson to care enough to notice, but then, I always want someone to save me my life tonight, like Elton and Bernie said, but stupidity doesn't usually last this long.

The stupid is strong in this one.

After the healthy buffet, aherm, we went to Tinman's place to watch football with his dad and Sarducci came by again. His mom did some needlework and then fell asleep. We watched a cruel game for Jacksonville fans (sorry Jackson) and another typical victory for Tom and Bill and New England in spite of losing their best receiver to a concussion. Hopefully he will be back for the Superbowl in two weeks. Jacksonville is still too green and does not have the offensive coach (pay calling sucked as the end came) to best New England. Can't say of Bortles and the team could play up to a Belichick system, but given Jax doesn't have one, the QB and players can't be held totally accountable when the play calling sucks so bad. As a long time Tom Brady fan, I am happy for him and hope he gets his record sixth Superbowl ring in two weeks. As a Jacksonville (through Jackson) fan, I hope they get a better offensive coach and continue improving and Brady gives them a break by retiring or messing up one of these years. He doesn't win it all every year, after all. Just more than anybody else ever did.

After the game I returned here and ate dinner and watched more football. Philadelphia looked good, but Minnesota fell apart so how good Philly is will be determined by Tom and Bill and company in the Superbowl in two weeks. I hope to get to see it this year. I think I missed it last year, living with The Maharajah and no TV. Sigh. Exchanging a couple of texts with Jackson about the game and getting to watch part of it (Tinman's dad was watching a movie when we got there and so we turned the game on in the middle of the third quarter and Eb was playing his video game on his computer so the TV could play the football when I got back here).

Still missing a few sports nuts (see the sigh).

After the Philly game, I should have gone to bed since I need to wake early enough for a good shower in the morning since it's been more than 48 hours and I've been active and hot and cold, I wrote instead. You saw some of the results above.

I really must pause in spite f the steady flow of words and inspiration for desire for expansion into other blog realms (ever notice how popular the word realm is in fantasy?), alas, I must find my way to sleep as I have a brand new 90 minute presentation to give tomorrow and I really should be awake for it.



Hope you had fun today (and ate healthier than I did too).

Narf :)

Saturday, January 20, 2018

Later, Of Course

All this babbling in the last few entries and the side notes make for some hole for this blogging life (and the last three entries there may be the revealing exlanation needed as much as this explanation. Later, of course, the rest of the story will be revealed to anyone who cares to take the time to learn and know.

After the texts woke me, I finally started getting hungry and texted Helen that I was awake. She sid she was around the corner about to head t a nearby restaurant so I met her there for lunch. Yummy. A Reubenstein (German Reuben) on pretzel bun, loaded potato pancakes, and red cabbage. Yum yum yum. Hollerbach's is a well-known German restaurant in this area. That's why people travel to eat there. Helen and her mom travel up here every month or two to eat there. Critics and public opinion agree that here is surprisingly good restaurants in this small town.

So as you may have already read, yesterday was more challenging than most days because this body was feeling blech. Obviously I worked through it as you may have seen from the previous entry and the above, but I explore yesterday further now because the body asks me to. It was really not feeling well during the day yesterday.

Maybe it was three straight days of way too much spaghetti with to much butter and ketchup and sauces and more starches and fats than the body can handle. As I said in the brief blog about it, sometimes swimming (as in just keep swimming ya see) is not enough. I had to push through it especially because I had softball in the evening. I dragged around all day at work feeling bloated and uncomfortable in the body and generally tired and filled with malaise, whatever that means to you. There was some pounding in the circulatory system, painful in the lower back, discomfort in the abdomen. Maybe there is too much fat in the tubes, I really must get with some doctors.

I did not feel like waking when I woke in spite of more than 8 hours sleep but I pushed through all the way to five PM even though productivity was lower than usual and it was a four day work week. Did I already mention this? EKG? Maybe I did, maybe I was tht concerned. Not concerned enough though as I've been through the experience before. Then I dragged this body to softball.

I bought a chocolate protein drink and added a coffee packet which woke me enough to enjoy playing and do well. I went two for two and a walk and we won 23-6. I still felt a little lethargic but pushed on to the local pub where everybody knows your name and ate a wrap stuffed with shrimp and sweet potato fries. I was suddenly more awake again having a good time talking to friends and then, wanting more interaction, so I went over to Harpo's after that and played games until after 4am. Go figure.

I feel like I may have already wrote some of this.

So I redirect you to the re-emphasis of the opening paragraph, all this babbling in the last few entries and the side notes make for some hole for this blogging life (and the last three entries there may be the revealing exlanation needed as much as this explanation. Later, of course, the rest of the story will be revealed to anyone who cares to take the time to learn and know.

Care to know?

Narf :)

And Then There Was Today

I spend a few hours every few days, sometimes more time than that, writing in my written gardens Mostly in this and the brief daily blog, but a few times a week I find words jumping into one of the other bogs and websites in the vast untapped infinity of the babbling and rhyming words I call, you guessed it, the written gardens (oh yeah, once there was a way... and you thought you knew me?, narf) and someday, someone may even read some of these words so I suppose it's about time I stopped farting around and got to the point.

Maybe tomorrow.

Manwhile, back here at the refrigerator, I woke to a blast of warm (74 degree) air when I opened the door to my bedroom today. It appears that the over has been on with the oven door open. We can't be sure if Eb was cooking (while the nostrils are not as effective at detecting smells as they might be thanks to the lingering sniffles and the extended nose bleed that gave me pause to pause after I arrived at Harpo's place after softball last night), cleaning it (the oven, did you lose your way already?), or using it to warm the place, but for the first time in months it is warmer out there than it is in this room in which I sleep.

Much to the chagrin of this body (and especially my lower legs and feet), I am still wearing two layers below the waist and at least four layers above. I lose track sometimes. In fact, I am ready for that stage in life where I regress to needing someone else to dress me. Anytime now. I slept in this layered outfit with sports knee socks, so the circulation in the feet and the legs feels squeezed. The bathroom was sprayed, as usual, and the foot stool Eb uses to raise his knees (I assume it is a body positioning device meant to aide in his defecation experience) was in the way and I felt like peeing from beyond it rather than touching it because it has to be sprayed by urine (usually visibly), but I pushed it as far under the front of the toilet as it would go with my sock (I should throw the sock out now... I have thrown out more underwear and socks living here than I have in any other living space before here, in case it matters to you). All these words just to pee, and with the diuretic this happens a few times a night and even more during the day. Alas, life ruled by the medical industrial complex.

A lot of text messages came in on the phone this morning. Often they will wake me and I'll roll over and go back to sleep figuring if it is important enough they would call. Let's see, there was Tinman answering my text from 11:00PM last night. Yeah, so about 11:00 PM last night I texted "Are you awake?" His response, this morning, was "Yes." We share a dry (or is it droll?) sense of humor. Practically didactic, or something like that. Stating the obvious, after the fact, even. Fun.

Thank there was Chase telling me my credit card is over the limit again (so much for increasing savings this month). They let me go over the limit regularly when necessary. It is earlier in the month than usual though as I have almost two weeks before the auto-payment is made and likely a few hundred or more dollars to be auto-paid between now and then. Hopefully there will not be any sudden new flags or limits on their consistent allowance for up to a few thousand dollars over as they have in the past. The benefits of an excellent credit rating. Speaking of...

Speaking of credit ratings. Jackson sought me out, a rare occurrence the past year, or is it two... anyway, she sought me out to show me her phone that told her that credit rating went down 50 points. She was doing so well. I felt like hugging her and telling her it would be alright and exploring more, but we were in public at the fields at a softball tournament and she has stopped seeking me out to even say hello so I just let her be. A couple of days later she reached out by text to share the details. She co-signed a loan for her sister and he sister missed a payment and bang, loss of fifty points, go not pass go, do not collect $200, and wait 3 years before that blemish stops bleeding. Sigh. So I asked for the details.

$700 later, she and her sister were almost speechless with appreciation. I loaned her sister $700 to bring her past due and current month car payments up to speed and gave her as much incentive as I could to maintain payments without going past due again. The terms of the loan are simple. Payment is not due until the car is fully paid off and (the incentive to not her her or her sister's credit again part), do not go past due again for the life of the loan and the loan becomes a gift. Free money, just don't miss another car payment. They think it'll work. I hope it does. Nobody but the three of us know, so don't tell.

Seriously, though... as I said these blogging lives are an extension of the daily offline life I experience in the physical world. The day someone from my physical life world starts reading this (and so far no one in my daily life has told me they do), I shall accept their comments and opinions and respect what they have to say about what I write here. If they wish more privacy than I afford already, I shall decide what to do about each request they make. For more than twenty years I have babbled online and only once has anyone I communicate with outside of these blogging lives asked for more anonymity than I provide and I do my best to comply, not mentioning her at all anymore. Shhhhh, another secret.

Hope laughter was all around on my little secrets. :)

This (giving) is how I keep family in my life. Money. Giving and sharing. Two people are on my phone line. Until last month I've paid for Precious' phone (more than ten years). I slowly stop actually giving money more because I do not want to enable than out of any sense of responsibility to myself because I love to give (money, time, energy, stuff, whatever... the giving is an endorphic rush for me.. appreciation is like icing on the cake... metaphors are made to be mixed, like cake batter, in case you wondered). So the saving will not go up (may even go down since I am still spending a couple of hundred dollars a week on food eating out and splurging), but the heart loves the giving feeling.

Meanwhile, back to the text messages, there were a few messages from Helen, the last telling me she and her mom may be eating lunch a half mile from here. I had the wrap and fries for dinner about 9:00PM, a snack at Harpo's around 3:00 AM, then $6.51 worth of Taco Bell food at 4:40 AM and here is an opportunity for more social food. Emotional eating is part of it, but poor choices doesn't help. 500 calories a day for a few weeks definitely would. Salads and cooking at hoe to save money definitely would, if I had a home. Yeah, finding a home would too.

Good morning, aye? lol.

Narf :)



Friday, January 19, 2018

Potpourri is Not Cheating

Wait, is it? I mean, is potpourri cheating? Yeah, so anyway, I was out at the local pub at the time of this entry, at least as far as the posterity perspective is concerned, but that will not stop me from being like Mercury (it's in retrograde, I hear) and catching up with whomever might be reading (for what it's worth, I love you. I hope you are enjoying your time wandering through my written gardens (so much deeper than anyone's even begun to explore... will you be the first?) and maybe we will be lucky enough to meet someday somewhere somehow. Even if we don't, I wish you all the peace, love, hope, and dreams you can fit into your heart and mind and then, more hugging you from all around you. You can do it!) because that is what I do.

This too.

Babble, that is. A day or few ago, or sometime in the recent past, I got back here after another standard day in orbit, I mean at work. I spent some days out of the office the whole morning, sometimes the whole day. Other days I am in the office playing with the computer all day. Either way I enjoy what I do. On desk work days I sometimes stop for lunch to eat at my desk, though I often forget. Today a truck hit a drain pipe at our building so I went downstairs to coordinate the emergency responders who somehow send fire and rescue instead of a simple patrol car. Some people tend to overreact and others tend to delegate too much. The call to the non-emergency number must have been a doozy. "Truck hit the side of the building, don't know if there were any injuries" would be enough to get an engine and a rescue unit arriving with lights and sirens. A least the aliens did not arrive. Or so we were told.

The truck touched a drainpipe and separated it from the building. The six screws holding the pipe were no match for the ten ton truck. Yeah, people seem to love to panic and scream and feel helpless and believe in some bright lights. Eb had his campaign meeting and I chose to sleep through it. Slept five hours. Sweet. I woke to find the temperature over 70 degrees and he actually cleaned the place. The bathroom smelled like pine. The first time in a year.

55 is the more frequent temperature inside this place I live these days. Yes, he thermostat is often set for 55 degrees. Sometimes it is raised to 60 when he is home. A couple of nights this week it was in the mid-30s all night outside. It was 25 degrees one night and the high was was 52 degrees. That was a rough few hours. you can read about it in one of these blogs. Alas, the fact is Eb is insanely cheap. Unhealthy, even. My nose is frequently running. He had a guest from California here for an hour or so, but the guy did not stay. I am not sure how to warm up sometimes.

Hope lives (as is demonstrated in the following excerpt from an entry in the brief blog, with some babbling added for your amusement... or at least for my amusement. Sometimes, we've just gotta do what we've gotta do, ya know? Anyway:

I've got a towel (so all is right with the universe, right?... though Douglas never actually wrote about how to keep the towel clean and he did not have Linus or Pigpen character, unless you count the Zorgons, but that may be a stretch and this parentheses is interrupting the fine example of hopefulness this excerpt was to bring so be gone, parenthetic aside... but keep the towel) wrapped around my head in Arabian style and that is tucked into the heavy cotton bathrobe rich leading-man person style and the flannel pajama bottoms await the next dressing and the heavy slippers keep my feet warm and the electric blanket is spread out on the air mattress on high ready for my feet when the big pot of boiling water cooks spaghetti on the stove and the whole universe (and even this place) feels so much more better now that I took care of my physical comforts (as much as I can in this space) and bodily functions in the bathroom including a long-as-it-would-last semi-hot shower and life is good even though the temperature is now 57 degrees (up a few degrees from before the shower... nothing like boiling a lot of hot water to add warmth to a space) in the place. Spaghetti and shrimp for dinner, saving money so I can get out of here as soon as the right roommate or place comes along and I am just not gonna let this get me down.

I've been camping in colder weather before :)

Narf :)


Yeah, but that high point of the roller coaster was followed by a day of numb bloat as this next excerpt from the brief blog (this is starting to feel like a retrospective episode of the new outer limits... please stand by) may show.

A long day of feeling poorly in spite of more than eight hours sleep. Body bloat reaching maximum proportions, 230 pounds fully clothed with full pockets (keys, phones, wallet, five layers, heavy jackets, and more stuff). Considered not going into work, but eh. Yeah, I have a work eh-thick (oooo, humor even at the low points of the day). Back here again to use the bathroom and change clothes. Fifty six, that is 56 degrees in this space. Showers here suck, being chilled all the time sucks, getting down about the living conditions sucks. Wishing somebody will come along to save me (or at least share, if not want to share space somewhere bigger, cleaner, safer, warmer, more comfortable, and homier) sucks. So stop, m'ok?

The place is amazingly clean (relatively, compared to it's usual state).

Layered up and off to softball now.

Narf :)


So I am out playing softball and hopefully having fun and hopefully doing half as well as I did last week and likely eating some pub food afterwards and hopefully coming back here for some catch-up sleep and hopefully, very soon, getting into some sort of daily exercise program because the circulatory system gave me too many signs of being over-taxed today (pumping pains as blood is pushed through vessels close to nerves in my chest, abdomen, and lower back... sometimes comes from sitting too much when the weight is this high... in the ideal world I'd be hooked up to an EHG machine during those episodes, but they've been happening since I was a teenager and I've learned to live {and play ball and run marathons} with it... the last full cardio-stress exam just over ten years ago lasted most of the day and was flying colors good, so whatever).

Yeah, so this entry was a collection of excerpts as well as, as usual, some secretly revealing stuff that you have to be a mother to love. If you hum a few bars I can fake it, been doing that all my life. If it is my life, after all.

So how about you? You have a life? Feel free to give me even a sliver of a glimpse. Or tell me all about it.

I'd really like to know.

Narf :)

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Someone, Somewhere, Somewhen

I was asleep when I wrote this. At least that is what the date/time stamp would suggest if you were here. If anyone was here. Was anyone ever here ever, I wonder. Are we here now? I carried around a book called Be Here Now once. I think it was for a community college course in Monterey California. I miss my life sometimes.

Wow, four here, none here, no explanation. I think it was something about the same old same old same old, again, that is, the same days doing the same things doing the same dance pulling the same strings. Remember when I used to call you ding? It was such an endearing and yet subtly judgmental word. At once it was ding go the strings of your heart which it was simultaneously a congratulatory and slightly sarcastic ding! you've got it, by george you've got it, even though I don't think you ever really did.

Yes, we had our pet names and ding was one. Ah, the eighties, quite the lost decade of domestic bliss.

No wonder those days come to mind. Every day is so much the same now, again. Some desk work then some me time and eating (lately, spaghetti and more spaghetti as the belly grows) then some field work then some other work then back to desk work and once again, one of the last ones to leave the hallway each evening.

Playing softball, having fun, when was that? While out in the field, Jackson texted to express some frustration. I listened, shared reality, offered hugs, and advised her to return to her heart where innocence and purity and hopefulness (and a strong does of normal human naivety) lives and flourishes and gives her some surface peace). Drama at the softball fields.

Back here, catching up a bit, Eb cleaned up a bit because tomorrow he had having a campaign party here. He's running for some local office, I forget which. The place has never been cleaner. I will try to get photos one of these moments before it turns into a mess again. I mean, it is not clean and the furniture is still too uncomfortable to be comfortable sitting on, but the floor has been swept better than ever, the wood even looks a little polished, the bathroom was corner-cleaner for the first time in a year. It is quite the change. Thank you Eb.

I learned how to use paypal to send money this week. Yes, I know, just when I almost intended to raise the savings again. Helping hurts the wallet, but feels so good to the heart and it seems to be the only way to keep people in my life, even if it's just rarely when they need something. I ate more spaghetti and added some hot dogs and watched some TV and here we are.

Wish you were here. Wish someone was here.

Narf :)

I Miss Sassafras (Or Something Like That)

Yes that's right, I'm confessing once again another one of my many deadly sins, I miss sassafras. Truth be told, I miss
sarsaparilla even more but that's probably fodder for later in this entry or many other entries, for that matter, in case it matters, and all that matter a factness. The 55 degree room temperature shall not still the aging babbler as 25 degree temperatures met us walking out to the car this morning and 35 degrees will likely be out there tonight. With a high of 52 today, the thermostat set t 55 degrees still costs more than Eb wants to spend out of the money I give him for all of his bills and then some each month, but frugality to the extreme and a fair amount of usury aside cuz the uncaring bitter cold world can kiss my shiney frozen ass cuz, I miss sassafras.

Sarsaparilla too.

Spaghetti cooks on the stove, warming the air a bit. The heating blanket is on high and my legs and feet shall be under it soon. The semi-hot shower took the edge off, and I shall not go down (though I will do it quietly as noise really doesn't help the matter). The TV shall provide some CBS shows and no one has to text or call, I'll be fine without anybody caring tonight.

Then, spaghetti. Shrimp. Bacon & Provolone tomato sauce. Butter. Stuffed.

No sassafras though. Not even a little sarsaparilla. Water is good. So I'm warm with hot spaghetti stuff in the belly and the big red robe wrapped around me with a towel stuffed around my neck and my feet under the heated blanket turned up high and
that's the way to be as comfortable as possible in a 58 degree place. Yes, the boiling water has raised the air temperature three degrees, it's a heat wave.

TV is distracting me. Big Bang, Young Sheldon, Criminal Minds... so far. The mind wants to watch, not just listen. Must want more distraction than the babbling will provide.

So while we are watching, have some sassafras or sarsaparilla because it is good for you even if you don't now the dfference between sarsaparilla or root beer or root, birch, and sarsaparilla for that matter.

Narf until later.




Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Wonderbull

There was the time I knew the blue light of the energy of the infinite eternity that is beyond human comprehension at this point in the evolutionary process, but that didn't stop me, no sir ree, and that, my dear friends, is why I am so alone in this life. I tried helpless pathetic ignorance, but it didn't work for me. I would have told you before now, but I did.

Where were you?

Ah, the laughter of the child playing games with the mind (me first, me first! lol lam laa) after all, after all. You may not want my sex anymore, but it will not be the first magical euphoria you've passed up in your life. When was the last time you knew, after all, after all. I just had to let it go, holding back just didn't work for me, hiding, nope, it is a game of self-diminishing returns. I would love to share, but I tire of the pretense too easily now. The limits you choose keep you from reaching me. I hope you are happy where you are, as you are. I see your pain, your confusion, your sorrow. I want to help, but there is little more I can do than offer you things you value, money, time, patience... to accept you as you are.

I want to tell you that you do not have to choose helplessness. You can know and do so much more if you only rise above your fears, stop empowering fear and start empowering love... trust your love, trust yourself, trust the universe. Call it god, a deity of any color or form, call it anything, just find it inside of you and trust it to let you be.

The secret is the simple truth, life is sharing.

If only you would.

Narf :)

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Unfinished Babbles

That's what the last week or few have been full of, lots and lots of unfinished babbles. Lack of time, of course, and lack of energy, some, but also lack of desire to express the unpleasantries of war and pestilence, death and deep fungal infections, loneliness and sudden solar flares, and assorted sundries.

I don't know why others don't see
the joy in giving everything
being one with eternity
to hear the cosmos sing

I don't know why others don't feel
the joy in sharing everything
being one with all that's real
to hear the cosmos sing

the irony, the parodox
the joke is on me
being one with everything
leaves me so lonely

the only one I've ever met
who gives it all away
being one without regret
hearing the cosmos play

I search to find, for there must be
another giving everything
being one with infinity
hearing the cosmos sing
feeling everything
feeling the cosmos sing

It wasn't well known in the dark corner of the universe where our hero first met the dream that would propel him (and her) to the vision of the ideal experience, the oneness with everything that is attainable in this life by simply being without fear, without the illusions of need to possess as was expressed by so many in so many ways, but all saying the same thing... so often called god as the prophets were said to live, as the song Imagine expressed, as so many pray to be like the ones they pray to but fear keeps them from actualizing so they hide and demands others hide in conformity and repression and the illusion of privacy and while the false gift of respect for privacy is usually seen as more important than sharing everything, I must actualize the way of the prophets and dreams and ideals and record it to remind myself how it feels and how right it is so I write this somewhere for posterity and the aware as I bury it in the middle of an excessively long paragraph of babbling nonsense and distraction because suddenly giving seven hundred dollars to someone far away and not letting anyone else know is more challenging than it looks for one wanting to share the illusion of personal one on one sharing in this physical world, more challenging than ever for the moment for so much lonelier than ever, especially when it sets me back yet another month in my quest to save enough money to move out of this place, no less retire (never happening, unless an unplanned windfall falls on my head). But it feels so good to give, even alone, even when it hurts, it feels so good to give the rush is almost overcoming the carb-loading limited sleep grogginess. Hallylooya and all the fun of the fair (oh dear, this paragraph was supposed to be nondescript, incognito, subtly hidden amidst nonsense and distraction and words no one in their right mind would wade through) so I remain in this uncomfortable space, part martyr and part savior and part child of the universe jut giving it all away to actualize the experience of being one with everything and hearing and feeling and being the cosmos as it sings.

Blessed are the children who do not know how to fear and hide and give up.

Someday, someone will...

Narf :)

Monday, January 15, 2018

You Care?

Life is sharing and I am not living as much as I would like to be living these days.

T... B... C...

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Did We Blink?

What happened to the details of the past few days? There was this (suicidal choices) in body talk (can cells think) on the 11th when the body woke a bit. There was this (watch out) in practical philosophy on the 12th for whatever it means. There was this (maybe) in karmagedding on the 13th for whatever that means. There was this (Friend Of Food) on the 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, and 13th to share the foodie in me (it's the latest brand new blog, in case it matters). There was even more, I just know there was.

T... B... C...

Nrf :)


Friday, January 12, 2018

More To This

There is more to this, but for now...


I don't know what I did today tomorrow is another day and everybody doesn't play or have something to say. Sometimes silence is so loud it overwhelms a screaming crowd when people notice there's a shroud they are not proud. A species that soils it's nest will be extinct before the rest and ignorance is bliss and best be not confessed so call it blessed and fear being undressed. The world, no doubt, has gone insane invaded by the human brain thinking every wild thing is tamed but dead is not tame it's not a game no one to blame but everyone... a crying shame.

Good day, better night. Checked off some important things at work. The softball. Triples, doubles, I hit the crap out of the ball. Pitched shut down softball. We won 30 something to 4 or 5. Yes, two triples. Could have had a third, but I didn't want to rub it in. Walked once. Kiwi's for dinner with a few teammates. Quasadilla... black bean, extra cheese, onions and peppers and mushrooms. Side of sour cream and salsa. Yum. Finished half a beer so the person drinking it could get out of there and home. Got a few kisses on the cheek and lots of hugs for it. We have early games and a very long day of softball tomorrow. Nite nite

Narf :)

Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Can We Get Any Bloatier?




A whole rising crust pepperoni pizza with eight ounces of extra cheese and a little less than a quart of whole chocolate milk and a bunch of M&Ms for desert. A slice of leftover pepperoni mushroom onion pizza as an appetizer. Bloat. Bloaty boat bloat. Two hundred eighteen (218) pounds two days ago at the doctor's (in full clothing with full wallet and all keys, but still, bloaty bloat bloat (if I wasn't 218 naked then, I'm probably there now).

Maybe I should have called this Fat Man Blues

My skin is too tight
My body's too small
had pizza tonight
and I just had to eat it all

Oh I'm a fat man baby,
I've got the bloated belly blues

Organs exploding
I'm speaking in toungues
over-carb-loading
no more room for air in my lungs

Oh I'm a fat man baby
I've got the fat man blues
Honey did you hear the news
I've got the bloated belly blues

I've got to stop this. Fewer pants are fitting and some shirts are not fitting. I have XXL shirts and I think they are the only ones that fit now. At the moment, it's not over yet. Life, that is. This week I lost control of the connection that keeps me from going too far and the body is paying the price. How come why? Pity party? Naturally, but what else? Who cares? Of course, but what else? Pretending Jackson cares to ease her guilt while I insisted on spending $60 on dinner for us, Duh, this same old same old pattern, paying to kep people in my life, it is really getting old yet I've got myself hooked on it. Hooked on a feeling, even though the feeling is not only not based on empirical evidence, it is contradicted by it. Yes, it is contradicted by it, Can I obscurify it any more? Of course I can, and will, what's the rush?

Ubiquitous obsequiousness.

But am I an obscurantist or is that what is happening with our leadership in this country? Is this fake news? Go ahead, make your judgment on the first line of the paragraph and miss the multilayered points somewhere beyond your reach Something to dive into sometime later. Can righteous indignation be far behind? What? Oh, now don't go getting all obstreperous on me. Or is that me on you? I get it, the medical profession is not the caring profession it is made out to be. You feel for the doctors are god-like propaganda as easily as you fell for the god-shtick. If I told you it is 42, would you stand up and walk out of me? Thumbs up, this would have been a bumpy ride if I gave a shit. But I did. Twice tonight, in fact. And more is brewing.

Go ahead and look for two other entries, that might show up somewhere or someday or somehow.

If you really cared about me
you'd know what to say
after seeing me in this condition
you wouldn't walk away

If you really cared about me
you'd know what to do
you wouldn't be cruel
to a heart that's true

So I eat until I'm numb
Trying to become
Blind deaf and dumb

I feel the compression
in my digestion
a life in regression

Oh Oh Oh

Oh I'm a fat man baby
belly's like a butter churn
spending all my time lazy
learning how to unlearn

I'm exploding for you baby
and you may never know why
every few months when you check in
I'm a different sort of guy

if you don't connect more often
you may never get the chance to say...
goodbye.

This is the message from the bloated belly man, the ridiculous shell of the belly exploding man. This is what you find when you leave him far behind. The farts are not meant to be rude (or crude). But his only friend lift is food. He's become an order of magnitude. Cuz his only friend left is food. Too tired for an attitude. Cuz his only friend left is food. Maybe verisimilitude. But his only friend left is food. Wouldn't want to see him in the nude. Cuz his only friend left is food.

Well practiced at equanimity too. Dude.

This is what I do.

My eyes may want to close and my body aches for sleep but the promises I made are beyond the abyss deep so I'm pushing through fatigue so I can write this to the world cuz I'm lonely ans maybe someone will write hack and I won't be alone so I write and keep writing to prove I am alive and still hopeful I will find a friend and maybe even someone who wants to stay with me and after writing a few hours I am giddy happy hopeful and can sleep. See it all makes sense to me.

Will someone stay awake with me?

Narf :)





Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Just Like Old Times

Wouldn't it be sad if she was out there reading but found a way to stay away and pretend she does not? Would this be a cause of pain or joy or some sort of relief? To know I care as I've always done because that's really who I am. Anybody else out there like me? Why not call them all another Amy. She still hasn't learned to lie to me but she still risks exposure by sneaking in an hour or two. Too close to be her therapist because I understand too much. Too for away to be a friend these days. She's hiding in her bubble with another in a bubble and defends herself not knowing what to say. A sad and unfulfilling game to play.

Just checking in
to see if you're still there
to see if you're still giving
to see if you still care

I know you said you would
but is anyone that good?
I can hardly believe it's true
When I see what I receive from you.

I give you nothing to prove
how much I need you
I do so little to show I care

But you are always there
in spite of your lonely despair
what little you have you still share
even when I disappear

and when I disappear
I wonder if you'll still be there
maybe I think I don't deserve such unconditional love
that is only supposed to come from a god high above

Maybe it makes me uncomfortable
because I am afraid to love like that
it's like you know the world is round
and we all still think the world is flat

Just checking in
to see if you're still there
to see if you're still giving
to see if you still care

I still feel like I must apologize
every time I look into your eyes
maybe that is why I ride away and hide
You see more in me than I can see inside

I guess it makes me uncomfortable
because I am afraid to love like that
it's like you know the world is round
and we all still think the world is flat

Startling, perhaps. Guess you had to be there. Dinner with Jackson at a good sushi place. She wanted to go to the batting cages after dropping Brandy at the airport and did not want to go alone in the dark I guess, so she texted and asked. She got there late because of traffic and after swinging the bat a lot, I suggested the sushi play. We both love sushi. My treat, of course. It's what I do when I get together with one of my adopted kids. Hush, wallet, money does buy me love... of a sort.

After dinner she headed home and I headed here and the world goes on.

Stuffed.

Tired.

Nite Nite.

Love you.

Narf :)



Monday, January 8, 2018

What-ev-er

Errors and a very weak fielding pitcher (who me?... I didn't make no errors... no, I didn't even get a glove on the ball as it zipped by me half a dozen times, twice within a foot of my head... the other team went into win at all costs mode and tried hard to throw me off... several key errors by shortstop and second base and some power hitters on our team flying out when singles hitters on their team kept hitting, oh, and some really poor base running on our part at the worst possible times {they don't let me coach bases} let them come back in the last inning to win 14-13... home team advantage... we went ahead 13-12 in the top of the last inning, then gave them three easy outs... alas, first game of the season... dangerous for me, I may have to look for the parts to my face mask) and lots of other mistakes lead to...

did I give it away in the parentheses?

Work was busy, emails and writing a training outline for teaching supervisors and managers how to conduct an investigation, then sitting in on a chemical reporting webinar, then running home to get lunch and lozenges (forgot the bag but had enough at work for the morning), then sat watching my boss do the first new safety orientation training (he just does not want to give up doing everything and I don't think it's because he doesn't trust me, I think he just micromanages everything and likes lecturing people {he does it all the time as if he knows everything best and nobody else does, he should have been a teacher} but I've learned to accept it and let him tell me how to do just about everything right down to discarding my emails and projects because he says just use what he wrote three or four {or more} years ago... we have very different writing styles, but nobody would know lol).

After he got through, I left for my doctor's appointment but stopped home to poop and wash and then realized because of traffic and a dozen school buses stopping traffic even more, I was going to be late fr the doctor so I called and the appointment girl couldn't make a decision so I called back and she still couldn't get an answer so I called back again and she finally said the doctor will wait for me and I was five minutes away by then and I still had to wait ten minutes for the doctor after paying the co-pay and having my vitals taken and I wish he would say he would be my primary because he is the second best doctor I've seen in the past several years but he said no because it's too much work to be a primary doctor and I understand what he means so anyway, they took blood and he will call me Wednesday with the results. He gave me two doctors to check out, a GI specialist and an infectious disease specialist for my buttocks issues. I still need to find a primary.

Then, softball, then, back here and food. Leftover pizza and eggplant parm and some spaghetti from a can. And a yogurt. Then, some TV, then, the tainted college football national championship game. Tainted because UCF beat the team that beat both of the teams in the championship game and watching them, neither of them would have stopped UCF's offense, the #1 offense in the country. Neither teams seems to have a passing game so I don't know how they would have kept up with the #1 offense in the country. It is 13-0 in the third quarter and it is a sloppy, rather dull game. The SEC is so overrated and that gets them into the championship when many sports writers are saying the two teams in the game should have been ranked 2nd and 6th or further down, respectively. That team has less than 100 yards total offense in the first half? The teams are just not that good.

Maybe they'll "find" some offense in the second half when the defenses get tired.

So the overrated Alabama team put in a freshman quarterback and freshman receiver and suddenly they moved the ball down the field, throwing three times to him to the freshman receiver including a touchdown. Next series he threw an interception. Either team could win this game, but neither would have a chance against UCF. Bet they will refuse to play UCF next season. They always do. They are afraid. Then they claim UCF doesn't play a tough enough schedule. Set up because they are afraid. I say that's cheating, setting up a schedule so you don't have to play the best teams in the country until the playoffs and then somehow convincing the playoff committee that your conference deserves more than any other.

The SEC conference record is 5-6 in post season this year. That's right, eleven teams in the post season selected by committee. 11 out of 14 teams. You expected them to have a winning record? The announcers are so biased it is ridiculous. They don't even know the rules as they decide what calls the refs should make against Georgia lol. It is so obvious in their voices that they are disappointed that Alabama is losing. There is no enthusiasm for Georgia at all. What a joke.

So anyway, as I am playing softball Jackson texts (did she read yesterday's blog?) and asks if I want to meet her at the batting cages tomorrow night because she was stopping there on the way home from dropping Brandy off at the airport. No, she can't be reading, she'd invite me to stay in a warm house in a real bed then, right? What-ev-er.

Alabama then gets lucky because the Georgia QB throws the ball into a helmet four feet in front of him and a Bama defensive lineman intercepts. Well, at least the third quarter is more exciting than the first half. Even more sloppy, but that's the excitement. What-ev-er.

Are we having fun yet? lol

Narf :)


Sunday, January 7, 2018

Zombie Body

Though not quite all numb, there were some cramping pains today, but mostly numb. Mostly good ache in between the occasional cramping. The fool I am does not exercise daily even though the body feels so much better after exercise and so much more better whe I exercise daily (I still remember, I'm not that deep into dementia yet wink win nudge nudge).

Three full hours out in the 40 degree morning on my feet practicing softball. Pitching hundreds of pitches (at least 25 to each person, usually more, and there were 12 people) and for every pitch I had to bend over and pick a ball at least twice. That doesm't include fielding and running bases and hitting. By the end of the three hours I could barely bend over or swing the bat.

Did I mention I did not sleep last night?

What? You think I dream these entries into existence? Well, I sort of do. Some doozing or dozing may be happening as this entry rolls along, slowly. Definitely. Already has. Started during the brief entry that I am expanding here. Between doozes... or dozes, for that matter.

Anyway, the local team, Jacksonville, is playing their playoff game and it is on in the living room so I am standing to watch it so I don't fall asleep. Jackson's second home as a child was Jacksonville so I am a fan by proxy, even though it brings that deep abandonment and betrayal sadness. Why we've never gotten together to watch any sports is pretty baffling, but why she doesn't even text to acknowledge we are both watching and cheering, completely baffling.

We had season tickets to the local university, UCF, and they went undefeated and had their best season ever this year. Nothing. The Cubs won their first world series in more than a hundred years, nothing. The local team wins their first playoff game in ten years, nothing. I don't get it (unless it is the clear message to stop communicating, stop pretending we are even any sort of friends, and just move along in life as if we never met (no less shared so much and made so many promises about being best friends and family). I was in the hospital last year and she never knew. I wonder if I'll even be invited to her wedding.

Lots of people do it, go from BFF to non-existent, so much so, it seems the human norm. How people choose to call someone their best friend one day and completely write them out of their life the next is a conundrum tat leads me to not want to trust people at all.

Hunger calls, even tough I stopped for six of those roller-food things at Racetrac. The body definitely needs more, muscles are cramping. So I ordered pizza and wings and eggplant and cheese (much much more eggplant and cheese that way for $4.99, rather than ordering it as two pizza toppings for $4.00). Much better now, though the cough is demanding more lozenges, alas. Eb ordered a sub and I brought my chair and table into the living room to ea there. Watching the second game as I type this now while Eb plays his video game and listens. Doing a wash load so I have cloths for tomorrow night when Monday night softball begins again.

Did I mention we won the Saturday league championship yesterday?

Wish the one (or you, if you be friend) was here.

Yeah, I really feel lonely and torn into pieces even though I enjoy watching, or at least hearing about some teams winning. The zombie body feels much better after pizza and wings and eggplant and cheese. So much so, the brain is working overtime and experiencing the myriad of feelings that watching sports brings now. Similar feelings occur whenever I go to Facebook or Twitter as I see how active she is and yet, I see a messaged less and less, it's been months since the last one. After repeatedly being completely written off and abandoned by people who told me I was in their lives forever, how do I trust someone again? Yeah, that is the bottom line unresolved question that all the other stuff helps me avoid.

Ah, even the head cold, sniffles and coughing and zombie body is not enough to distract me from honesty and it opens the door for the poor-me stuff so easily. It s the conundrum that gets me most. How to people just write each other off and stop existing for other people when they were supposed to have cared and mattered so much?

Letting the body fall asleep when I first got home, even though it meant missing the football playoffs, would have probably been healthier for me all around.

Yay Jacksonville, Yay Saints, Yay life, Yay me.

Narf :)

Now Wait Just A Flangdangling Minute

I almost lost my mind last night listening to several friends discussing politics and I have no idea why I actually spoke a few words on the subject to one of them but I was lucky ad wise enough to extricate myself from the situation/room before several others wandered over and got into a grand debate that lasted for several hours. It was quite distracting as I tried to play Dirty Minds with a group of other friends just ten feet away.

I got back here after the party and found myself visiting Facebook and found a post by one of the debaters and somehow I responded and then started loading up on my pages on FB with all sorts of political stuff, but found my way over to the loneliness page and scheduled two dozen posts there before finding my way to Twitter (where I've only made one tweet in the last two years, I think) to post the following trple headed tweetfest...






As you see, the loss of mind was in full swing, expanding quite aggressively, and going full on public (to all my dozens of Twitter followers and one ever-so-clever late-night instigator-provocateur, who is most likely a sta/ble genius himself), so I turned to a real genius (click here if you don't subscribe to Hulu) named Sarah Silverman to save me from the madness of reality politics and after some soothng lurve...


I was back on track...


Thank goodness, cuz I thought for moment I'd end it all by getting on Trump's watch list (luckily he isn't getting along with the FBI at the moment so I shouldn't see them at my door tomorrow morning, I mean, I have softbll practice and their interview would be quite inconvenient for the team) and I was considering talking to the gods, @TheGoodGodAbove @TheTweetOfGod @almightygod @god, but couldn't decide which one would listen so I made the right choice in Sarah.

Before the party (at Tinman's), we came back from a 17-11 deficit in the bottom of the seventh inning to win the game 18-17 on a walk off hit which gave us the regular season championship in the Saturday softball league. A fine day in the cold and speaking of cold, mine is blossoming quite well, in case it matters.

So there is a touch of class, or ass, or whatever.

May you not lose your mind too.

Narf :)

Saturday, January 6, 2018

How Do You Spell The Sound of a Cough?

Onomonopea fails us, alas, as ever cough has a different sound, kind of like snow flakes. If we hooked up advanced electronic wave particle measuring tools, we could probably identify a cough like a fingerprint. Only thing is, each person has a large variety, perhaps infinite variety of coughs (depending on the advancement of the measuring equipment, of cough... I mean, of course, of course). Or is it onomatopoeia. Of cough it is, but you say nomato and I say nomato and let's call the whole thing off and say we didn't.

Thank goodness I have seven hundred and sixty two rolls of paper towels in the house since I have a running faucet where my nose used to be and tissues are simply insufficient in soaking up the flow that could fill a few swimming pools in an hour. Luckily, it's too cold outside for a swim (about 38 degrees or so) so we don't have to concern ourselves with the proper chlorine ration to mate the snot-filled pool safe for people and other living things. I know, who'd want to, but seriously I could do a TV commercial for paper towel absorbency or something. Ok, so I exaggerate, I only have a dozen or so paper towel rolls left.

The shortage of cough drops is more concerning. I bought the candy-like Luden's cherry, then bag of dollar store menthol drops and dollar store vitamin C drops. I have one vitamin C drop left. After that, if I start hacking, I'll need to go out. Terribly disrupting and anti-getting well situation. I left the bags in the work car and only had those I was keeping in my pocket when I got back here last night. They are not as effective as the more expensive stuff (and I believe I have some somewhere in boxes, but I am too sick to search at the moment. The brief entries are depressingly full of my poor-me head cold blues if you are interested... care? What a novel idea, aye?

I showered as well as I can here. Hot is not hot when living like a pauper refugee. Eb wants to retire by the time he is 50 so he apparently balks at the idea of spending a penning of his own money on his mortgage, utilities, internet, or anything else that is paid forty my rent. He complained about a high electric bill yesterday as if that explained why the thermostat has been set for 60 degrees most of the time this past week (temperatures outside have been below freezing a couple of nights... I had to scrap frozen frost off the windshields of two cars... I do not miss northern winters at all... especially since I am sick with head cold). Hearing me hacking and noticing I was sick, he actually put the thermostat on 69 last night. He really does have a good heart, he's just as cheap as anyone I've ever met.

Naturally the water temperature of the hot water heater is too low to sanitize clothes and turning on all hot and no cold makes for a warm-to-hot shower for about four minutes, not enough heat or time to heat-therapy a cold out of a body, no less soothe aching muscles or feel clean like I used to. He takes baths and I clean with bleach before I use any part of the bathroom. This morning I used one of my towels to wash the floor around the toilet because last night I threw away a pair of socks and underwear because the underwear touched the floor (hey, I had to go and didn't have time to do any more than spray the seat) and the socks absorbed pee from a puddle that was on the floor.

There was a time, as a child, when I would not walk into the space of someone who did not have a healthy awareness and respect for germs. I was not a Sheldon Cooper or any sort of scene-maker, I simple quietly avoided such environments and moved along quickly to somewhere else if I inadvertently stepped into one. Over the years I have learned to compromise some, but this is the most ever. I was actually cleaner when I was homeless. Since leaving the living space I shared with Jackson, I've gotten progressively more tolerant of germ-ridden environments and that is probably why I have the skin issues and more infections than I've ever had in this lifetime. So if I sing someone save my life tonight, it is ore literal and real than ever before.

I know, nobody is responsible for me and nobody cares enough to "save" me and nobody should have to. So why have I seen so many people on the street cared for, nurtured, and "saved"? I know that doesn't happen to me because I repel people who try to "care for" me because, though they mean well in most cases, they are not as aware of cleanliness, healthiness, or my needs as I am so they fail to satisfy me. That's probably why nobody even tries anymore. So why do I keep wishing and hoping somebody would?

Yeah, the sicker-than-ever head-cold nose-dripping cough cough coughing blues.

I wonder if I have a fever.

Narf :)










Thursday, January 4, 2018

Hanging On

Happy New Year! This is what is happening (to me:

Just kind of hanging on for now. The body is fighting a head cold. The thermostat is set at 60 degrees inside. The thermometer read in below 30 degrees this morning and tomorrow morning is supposed to be colder. I should have bought a space heater, but I am sitting here with three layers on and my feet under the heating blanket turned up to high. I sincerely hope I don't die. This has motivated me to write to more potential roommates on the roommate site. Stretching the limits of the guesswork and random chance taking that he site offers.

Meanwhile, work was work. It's too cold out to work outside, so desk work again. Sitting way too much for my buttocks, that's for sure. Monday I have another doctor's appointment and I must find a primary soon after that as the pain and bleeding is not better. Canned pasta for dinner again. I need to find a new place, a new doctor, and a new perspective. Again.

Any day now.

Narf :)


Now you know I do that when I am too tired to babble and just want to put a placeholder here so the babbler has a challenge when there is more time.



I have wonderful news tonight.

Maybe this guy knows:


Maybe the truth is deeper in the babble...

So what I got for Christmas in my stocking was a raging head cold. It doesn't help that I've been sleeping without a blanket or sheet in a 60 degrees room while it's been 30 or less outside at night and there was no warming up at all for the past week. The martyr syndrome will kill me yet. Like I am waiting for someone to prove they care and didn't lie to me for years just to use me for money. Any one of a dozen or more who did that could step up anytime. Wow, I'm really feeling sorry for myself these days. Colds do that when I am alone. In fact, the pity party allows the cold bugs to take hold.

what can I do?
what can I say?
It's nothing new
it's just today
the same old story
we all dream of
no fight, no glory
I just want love

and in the end
the love I gave
was not enough
to keep or save
and all the girls
I've loved before
have left me here
just wanting more

a lone raven
forevermore

Still, I'm hanging on....

Narf :)