.
.
After chronic shortages in the last decade of my life, whether of tobacco, milk, food, or just about anything perishable or consumable, my life has really improved. Even this winter became somewhat problematic until I simply put my foot down. While I simply can't buy enough of everything to not run out, I can make it so that I have some extra, extra, on hand, so that when I get low I have enough of a hedge to see me to enough health that I have the time to get the goods. And, really, that has been working exceedingly well. Along with that, though, is the fact that I have not been getting as sick for as long. Sure, there were times this winter that seemed to stretch forever. Even then, from time to time, I could steal out of my home.
I am running low on caffeine and tobacco. It is time to get in to the stores. With food made, if after a short starvation mode, I have the energy reserves to go get what I need. The thing is, if any one thing breaks down, the rest will break down very quickly as well. I can't go without certain things for long without the whole system crashing. And, when it crashes, I can stay down for long periods. Now, that is going to happen anyway. But if you add them together life gets seriously rough. Life has gotten a lot better out here. I just need to learn how to weather the winters a bit better. This fall I am hoping to get the sun lamp set up, somewhere comfortable. Perhaps spend an hour reading, or practicing the bead work, or whatever works to keep me settled enough to soak in the fake but chemically functional sun.
My last lady friend called today. Indeed, she insisted, she is not dead. *bugle sounds* She's too mean to die, anyway. Oh, she can be just a dandy lady, then turn around and have a hissy fit or tantrum as good as even me! I like to think she has them more often though. And some aspects she has going are better then some of mine. She is definitely a fussy unhappy woman when she can find a way to be. She is working a second job this summer. She is working to pay off bills, for which she gets three stars. If she reaches her goal without increasing debt, she gets five stars. And if she pays off two cards? I dunno. I always wanted to help her, it will be in two years or more, if I can afford it, I will send a small but big little something. A lot of if's. She hasn't been canoeing this year yet. She'll get too it before long, she has a good group of friends for that, finally. Oh, don't even go there. If I did anything it was to prod her to finally go out and find friends. I even may have been the one to get her back in the canoe, something she loved, if my size ultimately made the thing not a happy thing for her. We went swimming far to often for her tastes. I helped finance some things. I encouraged her. Before me she honest to God had no friends. None that she liked? Yeah, pretty much. It is nice to watch her blossom. From afar.
A trip to town, sometime this afternoon or later. Caffeine and whatever I can find for tobacco. The best stores for these things probably aren't open. If I can get just enough to tide me over until I can be in town at the right times though. I hate going short but it beats going out. I have food ready, easy to load up with, and for a decent amount of time. I do need milk and sour cream. I am getting better about keeping things on hand, doing well enough that for the most, but it's still a slog. The rest of my life will be a hard slog, nothing can be taken for granted, nothing will be easy, and it is only going to get worse, one way or another. When one of those songs back in previous posts discusses wishing to dream again, it isn't about dreams at night, it is about dreams of a future. Those, for me, are gone. I don't look too closely, but I know only nightmares remain.
Good day.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Beef, beans, and rice!
.
.
With shredded cheese, chopped onion, garlic, enough hot stuff to clear my sinuses quite nicely. Half beef, half beans, no rice. Yeah, okay, I admit it. I almost hate rice, white rice for sure. Enriched or not, white rice is pretty boring. Brown rice is good but takes a pot of it's own and a good long time to cook. I had the beans going and didn't want to try to mess with rice on top of it. Two decent bowls of the gooey goodness and life is set to rights again.
The only real problem I have is, being well fed, I am about to lose consciousness. Oh, but my belly is thanking me. I am sure it will begin playing a tune shortly. I will be ignorantly blissful for the first movement. The later movements will see me on my feet. Heading to were music is more joyfully appreciated. While beans don't really give me problems, eating a large meal after days of hunger will. All good. There is nothing quite so good as having a good bm after days of nothing. It gets everything sort of going back on the right track.
It is a perfect day to work. Depending on how long I sleep, if the hole isn't an absolute mud pit, I am hoping to get out when I wake. After working, another bowl of goo, then probably another nap. One thing I have noted from past difficulties is that, as I begin eating again, each meal hits me like a sludge hammer, driving me back into full on exhaustion. It will do this for some period of time, until I adjust to eating again. I have to think snakes know this, alligators and crocodiles too. Hmm, some might even think I AM a snake? Only mice. :p
Have a great day.
.
With shredded cheese, chopped onion, garlic, enough hot stuff to clear my sinuses quite nicely. Half beef, half beans, no rice. Yeah, okay, I admit it. I almost hate rice, white rice for sure. Enriched or not, white rice is pretty boring. Brown rice is good but takes a pot of it's own and a good long time to cook. I had the beans going and didn't want to try to mess with rice on top of it. Two decent bowls of the gooey goodness and life is set to rights again.
The only real problem I have is, being well fed, I am about to lose consciousness. Oh, but my belly is thanking me. I am sure it will begin playing a tune shortly. I will be ignorantly blissful for the first movement. The later movements will see me on my feet. Heading to were music is more joyfully appreciated. While beans don't really give me problems, eating a large meal after days of hunger will. All good. There is nothing quite so good as having a good bm after days of nothing. It gets everything sort of going back on the right track.
It is a perfect day to work. Depending on how long I sleep, if the hole isn't an absolute mud pit, I am hoping to get out when I wake. After working, another bowl of goo, then probably another nap. One thing I have noted from past difficulties is that, as I begin eating again, each meal hits me like a sludge hammer, driving me back into full on exhaustion. It will do this for some period of time, until I adjust to eating again. I have to think snakes know this, alligators and crocodiles too. Hmm, some might even think I AM a snake? Only mice. :p
Have a great day.
I heard a yelp clear from here.
.
.
Man was I hungry. It has been since... Wednesday evening? Yes, I think so. That is a lot of hunger. I wondered why my stomach felt like it was eating itself. No, the cats have been being fed. Without a constant time by which to measure, I think they may have actually been getting too much food. They can trick me by begging like they haven't had food just an hour ago, when I am really tired. Still, I would rather err on over feeding then under feeding. They don't have a choice to be here, sort of.
I ate four bagels with cream cheese. I also put a pot of beans to soak, soaked them, and am cooking them now. So far I haven't had to sleep since 1:00, it is now 8:00. That is the longest uptime I have had in a while now. When that finishes I may cook some hamburger, with a half dozen or more spices, add some beans, grate some cheese, and have a real meal. Meatless meals are not real meals, they only stall the hunger and only slightly. A little time bought, sometimes, is enough. I have gone days, even weeks, without food. It's not pretty. Starting up the bowels again is a brutal process.
Yep, I heard someone whining and moaning out there, in the bushes. Perhaps I am just a bit too suspicious, though I think a shot in the dark sometimes finds the skulking beast just the same. Oh, don't take it personally, or... no more personally than it should be. I think you more than had that coming.
Hmm, off to some other task. Enough here for now.
.
Man was I hungry. It has been since... Wednesday evening? Yes, I think so. That is a lot of hunger. I wondered why my stomach felt like it was eating itself. No, the cats have been being fed. Without a constant time by which to measure, I think they may have actually been getting too much food. They can trick me by begging like they haven't had food just an hour ago, when I am really tired. Still, I would rather err on over feeding then under feeding. They don't have a choice to be here, sort of.
I ate four bagels with cream cheese. I also put a pot of beans to soak, soaked them, and am cooking them now. So far I haven't had to sleep since 1:00, it is now 8:00. That is the longest uptime I have had in a while now. When that finishes I may cook some hamburger, with a half dozen or more spices, add some beans, grate some cheese, and have a real meal. Meatless meals are not real meals, they only stall the hunger and only slightly. A little time bought, sometimes, is enough. I have gone days, even weeks, without food. It's not pretty. Starting up the bowels again is a brutal process.
Yep, I heard someone whining and moaning out there, in the bushes. Perhaps I am just a bit too suspicious, though I think a shot in the dark sometimes finds the skulking beast just the same. Oh, don't take it personally, or... no more personally than it should be. I think you more than had that coming.
Hmm, off to some other task. Enough here for now.
After clearing the baffles, it's time to fire torpedoes.
.
.
The other day I read about a violent man. A man who beat and frightened his wife. Enough similarities existed, and being one of the first things I read in the morning, or at least from one of my many awakenings, I had to do some checks. I did so. I am quite satisfied that I do not fit the stated profile. Of course, given some time and thought, I have some... questions.
When a woman tells me she is equal to men, then tells me she was the victim of abuse as an adult, I have to look twice. Did one woman say one thing and another stand where the other woman had been standing and the second woman say the second thing? You can't be an equal abuse victim, unless you choose to be. I have seen this with women through my life. My mother was a prime example. And, knowing my mother as I do, I also know she starts fights more often than not, adding alcohol only accelerates the fire starting thing she has going. More, when women stay in such situations, one has to ask... at what point does being a victim, setting aside the whole equality notion for a bit, become lost? At some point, after the first perhaps, after the second very possibly, but after the third or fifth or tenth attack... the victim becomes a party to the problem, an unindicted co-conspirator, or even an active participant if she wasn't to start with! I learned, working as a bouncer, that women being beaten often would defend their attacker. For my part, I would question the woman. If this was their "thing", then so be it, but not in my bar. They would both be escorted out where they could continue their kink wherever else they could get away with it. Of the many instances, there were only two times a woman asked for help. And I did help, so does much of the world. But she had to seek help in the face of the it. We all know the score. I feel solid in that I never stopped asking, hoping, not about what I usually saw.
I will claim that I have a greater claim to victimhood than almost any women in the West. I was forced into public schools, where a brute-enforced pecking order was maintained. One that I would not accept, could not accept. Some might fault me for that, I tell them to piss off. I did not give up my lunch money, milk, cookies, place in line, or anything else just because some one was larger, had rich or powerful parents, or had friends to back him up. And, initially, I was beat half to death for it. In the second grade, since none could actually beat me up, while I was walking past a swing (the really tall, heavy wood seat type), I got smashed in the side by one of those seats, bruising four ribs. In the SECOND GRADE! I learned how to fight back, but even that was not enough, being an outsider most of my life. Just defending yourself in schools based on allowances for rich kids, powerful parents, and an unwillingness by schools to deal with bullies would land me in more trouble than the bully. So I learned further how to set the stage for the absolute crushing of the bully on all fronts, physical, social, political. To defeat what was before me in such a way that none could question the validity of my actions. Even then the best I got was no punishment. The bully never was punished, or no more so than I was. At least I created some balance, and learned to win. I refused, and still do, to be a victim. Half dead or more, with sleep crushing me, I will not bend a knee to violence, or social status, or other bullshit. I may lose, and have lost, but I didn't just give the fuck up.
By the time I was a freshmen I was burned out. After beating up a junior, for the second time but this time with a knock out punch so ending the thing, one of his friends had let it be known he was next. I stayed long in the locker room that day, after football practice. I started crying. One of my coaches, a giant himself, caught me. He knew the score. He asked if I was afraid of the guy starting the new trouble. I shocked him a bit by laughing right at him through my tears. No, I suggested, I will kick his ass. I believe that is a direct quote. He is weaker than his friend and I am a bit put out with it all at this point. Oh, he asked, almost flippant at first, possibly still shocked by my daring to laugh at him, the notion he presented, both, and possibly that I was cussing, then what is the problem. I told him I was tired of fighting. I was utterly spent trying to simply live my life free of bullshit. He... one way or another... resolved the other boy's issue. Burned out from fighting in my early teens? Think about it, no gloves, no rules, sometimes taking groups of boys at a time, having to figure out how to both win and not be harshly punished, and sometimes still having to fight time after time after time? Yeah. Still, I refuse to claim victimhood. REFUSE. I fucking won, and rightly. And I didn't go about it by shooting up a school or some other lamenut thing. I fucking handled it, 'kay?
No, women have a long way to go. Either they have to choose to be victims OR equals. And if they choose that they are potential victims, then they have to choose to take it or fight it. Fighting it physically won't work, but there are many out there who would lend you a hand, even at great personal risk. If a woman considers herself as an equal then she cannot be a victim. Some equality sucks, innit? Whining about it will grant zero empathy here, unless you allow for inequality and understand that if you took it for ten years you had become party to it. Then I might be able to work with you, a bit. My empathy is spared for those who are in a situation where they have zero choices. Adult American women do NOT COUNT! If you want to claim to be an equal, and put up your dukes to prove it, prepare to be a "victim", one of your own choosing. Healthy pride, a reasonable understanding of reality, and some other things must reign for "problems" to be avoided, something I don't see as a trait common in American women. I only probably never beat even the gnarliest of my angry spitfire women, myself, because having fought often, I knew that typical women are no threat to me, not equal, at all. Spankings, like for naughty children, when a woman becomes physically aggressive, not a beating like they seem to want. That is equality put into practice. Well, and it was odd how well a spanking, or the threat of one, caused a woman to rethink the whole situation. Go cry me a river. Bah!
Here, and after my last article on the topic, D.C. was probably questioning some... things about me. Never fear, my friend. Captain Obvious has things well in hand. Just locking and loading, now rocking and rolling. I won't be backed into a corner by a widow or her mite, if she is wrong. Double Bah! Hmm, I wonder how long until some equal woman decides that trying to get me banned for this post is the only way she can be equal, since her retorts will be seen as being as weak as she and her notions are?
.
The other day I read about a violent man. A man who beat and frightened his wife. Enough similarities existed, and being one of the first things I read in the morning, or at least from one of my many awakenings, I had to do some checks. I did so. I am quite satisfied that I do not fit the stated profile. Of course, given some time and thought, I have some... questions.
When a woman tells me she is equal to men, then tells me she was the victim of abuse as an adult, I have to look twice. Did one woman say one thing and another stand where the other woman had been standing and the second woman say the second thing? You can't be an equal abuse victim, unless you choose to be. I have seen this with women through my life. My mother was a prime example. And, knowing my mother as I do, I also know she starts fights more often than not, adding alcohol only accelerates the fire starting thing she has going. More, when women stay in such situations, one has to ask... at what point does being a victim, setting aside the whole equality notion for a bit, become lost? At some point, after the first perhaps, after the second very possibly, but after the third or fifth or tenth attack... the victim becomes a party to the problem, an unindicted co-conspirator, or even an active participant if she wasn't to start with! I learned, working as a bouncer, that women being beaten often would defend their attacker. For my part, I would question the woman. If this was their "thing", then so be it, but not in my bar. They would both be escorted out where they could continue their kink wherever else they could get away with it. Of the many instances, there were only two times a woman asked for help. And I did help, so does much of the world. But she had to seek help in the face of the it. We all know the score. I feel solid in that I never stopped asking, hoping, not about what I usually saw.
I will claim that I have a greater claim to victimhood than almost any women in the West. I was forced into public schools, where a brute-enforced pecking order was maintained. One that I would not accept, could not accept. Some might fault me for that, I tell them to piss off. I did not give up my lunch money, milk, cookies, place in line, or anything else just because some one was larger, had rich or powerful parents, or had friends to back him up. And, initially, I was beat half to death for it. In the second grade, since none could actually beat me up, while I was walking past a swing (the really tall, heavy wood seat type), I got smashed in the side by one of those seats, bruising four ribs. In the SECOND GRADE! I learned how to fight back, but even that was not enough, being an outsider most of my life. Just defending yourself in schools based on allowances for rich kids, powerful parents, and an unwillingness by schools to deal with bullies would land me in more trouble than the bully. So I learned further how to set the stage for the absolute crushing of the bully on all fronts, physical, social, political. To defeat what was before me in such a way that none could question the validity of my actions. Even then the best I got was no punishment. The bully never was punished, or no more so than I was. At least I created some balance, and learned to win. I refused, and still do, to be a victim. Half dead or more, with sleep crushing me, I will not bend a knee to violence, or social status, or other bullshit. I may lose, and have lost, but I didn't just give the fuck up.
By the time I was a freshmen I was burned out. After beating up a junior, for the second time but this time with a knock out punch so ending the thing, one of his friends had let it be known he was next. I stayed long in the locker room that day, after football practice. I started crying. One of my coaches, a giant himself, caught me. He knew the score. He asked if I was afraid of the guy starting the new trouble. I shocked him a bit by laughing right at him through my tears. No, I suggested, I will kick his ass. I believe that is a direct quote. He is weaker than his friend and I am a bit put out with it all at this point. Oh, he asked, almost flippant at first, possibly still shocked by my daring to laugh at him, the notion he presented, both, and possibly that I was cussing, then what is the problem. I told him I was tired of fighting. I was utterly spent trying to simply live my life free of bullshit. He... one way or another... resolved the other boy's issue. Burned out from fighting in my early teens? Think about it, no gloves, no rules, sometimes taking groups of boys at a time, having to figure out how to both win and not be harshly punished, and sometimes still having to fight time after time after time? Yeah. Still, I refuse to claim victimhood. REFUSE. I fucking won, and rightly. And I didn't go about it by shooting up a school or some other lamenut thing. I fucking handled it, 'kay?
No, women have a long way to go. Either they have to choose to be victims OR equals. And if they choose that they are potential victims, then they have to choose to take it or fight it. Fighting it physically won't work, but there are many out there who would lend you a hand, even at great personal risk. If a woman considers herself as an equal then she cannot be a victim. Some equality sucks, innit? Whining about it will grant zero empathy here, unless you allow for inequality and understand that if you took it for ten years you had become party to it. Then I might be able to work with you, a bit. My empathy is spared for those who are in a situation where they have zero choices. Adult American women do NOT COUNT! If you want to claim to be an equal, and put up your dukes to prove it, prepare to be a "victim", one of your own choosing. Healthy pride, a reasonable understanding of reality, and some other things must reign for "problems" to be avoided, something I don't see as a trait common in American women. I only probably never beat even the gnarliest of my angry spitfire women, myself, because having fought often, I knew that typical women are no threat to me, not equal, at all. Spankings, like for naughty children, when a woman becomes physically aggressive, not a beating like they seem to want. That is equality put into practice. Well, and it was odd how well a spanking, or the threat of one, caused a woman to rethink the whole situation. Go cry me a river. Bah!
Here, and after my last article on the topic, D.C. was probably questioning some... things about me. Never fear, my friend. Captain Obvious has things well in hand. Just locking and loading, now rocking and rolling. I won't be backed into a corner by a widow or her mite, if she is wrong. Double Bah! Hmm, I wonder how long until some equal woman decides that trying to get me banned for this post is the only way she can be equal, since her retorts will be seen as being as weak as she and her notions are?
Friday, May 18, 2012
Pretty brutal.
.
.
Sleep is absolutely taking over my life. I can sleep 4 hours here, 10 hours there, 6 next, and only get a few hours of up time. Oh, I wrestle it. I push and shove. I might wrangle another hour, 2, or even 3 hours of uptimes on rare occasions, but I just hit it that much harder. I don't know if I really sleep any longer one way or the other though. It has mostly been happening since this storm front came in. Though with medicine started just a week ago, I am adding that into the equation. Actually, I think the medicine has been allowing me to account for the sleep, or... be more aware that I am sleeping, able to track times and such a bit better. Though it very likely is playing a dual role. Beside allowing me to account for time, it may well be adding to the need for sleep. Hmm, or more, what the medicine is doing to my body, lowering the bp is most likely the sleep trigger regarding medicine. Other medicines I have taken in life are directly related to extra sleep. There is a difference. Yeah, blathering without scientific proof. But... I still think that I have it about right.
I need to put together some food that will last a bit. I have a big pile of hamburger thawed. I just need to make beans. A big helping of chili and a side bowl of beans and hamburger would allow for some (if slight) variety, would last me a week or more, and is something I enjoy. More so with the weather so cool (for as long as that lasts). It's a matter of staying up long enough to get the cooking done and being able enough to cook it in a timely fashion. I need to set a pot of beans to soak this time, then cook them probably the next time I am awake. Youch but this is getting troublesome. The body hurts a bit when sleep is this demanding.
As for work or play? I am setting that off until I can definitely stay up more than a few hours at a time. As is I merely get warmed up and ready to do something before collapsing into a sleep requiring stupor. So be it, for now. I may run out of aspirin for my medicinal regimen, but that is a minor concern in the short term. Lots of things will fail if I don't... pay attention though. And I may not have a choice. At least this time I am fully aware that I am falling behind. Sometimes, often, I just go from doing good to... weeks or months later realizing I just lost a chunk of my life to the fog of time. Yeah, I prefer this way. Medicine can certainly be a nearly perfect double edged sword. No worries, I keep my codpiece handy... the rest can go hang. :p
Well, have a good life out there. I'm enjoying mine, sun or shine, sleep or wakefulness, grumpiness, joy, tears, and the twirl of it all, mostly. And... it is sort of funny... if you think about it. *zzz* Huh? Never mind.
.
Sleep is absolutely taking over my life. I can sleep 4 hours here, 10 hours there, 6 next, and only get a few hours of up time. Oh, I wrestle it. I push and shove. I might wrangle another hour, 2, or even 3 hours of uptimes on rare occasions, but I just hit it that much harder. I don't know if I really sleep any longer one way or the other though. It has mostly been happening since this storm front came in. Though with medicine started just a week ago, I am adding that into the equation. Actually, I think the medicine has been allowing me to account for the sleep, or... be more aware that I am sleeping, able to track times and such a bit better. Though it very likely is playing a dual role. Beside allowing me to account for time, it may well be adding to the need for sleep. Hmm, or more, what the medicine is doing to my body, lowering the bp is most likely the sleep trigger regarding medicine. Other medicines I have taken in life are directly related to extra sleep. There is a difference. Yeah, blathering without scientific proof. But... I still think that I have it about right.
I need to put together some food that will last a bit. I have a big pile of hamburger thawed. I just need to make beans. A big helping of chili and a side bowl of beans and hamburger would allow for some (if slight) variety, would last me a week or more, and is something I enjoy. More so with the weather so cool (for as long as that lasts). It's a matter of staying up long enough to get the cooking done and being able enough to cook it in a timely fashion. I need to set a pot of beans to soak this time, then cook them probably the next time I am awake. Youch but this is getting troublesome. The body hurts a bit when sleep is this demanding.
As for work or play? I am setting that off until I can definitely stay up more than a few hours at a time. As is I merely get warmed up and ready to do something before collapsing into a sleep requiring stupor. So be it, for now. I may run out of aspirin for my medicinal regimen, but that is a minor concern in the short term. Lots of things will fail if I don't... pay attention though. And I may not have a choice. At least this time I am fully aware that I am falling behind. Sometimes, often, I just go from doing good to... weeks or months later realizing I just lost a chunk of my life to the fog of time. Yeah, I prefer this way. Medicine can certainly be a nearly perfect double edged sword. No worries, I keep my codpiece handy... the rest can go hang. :p
Well, have a good life out there. I'm enjoying mine, sun or shine, sleep or wakefulness, grumpiness, joy, tears, and the twirl of it all, mostly. And... it is sort of funny... if you think about it. *zzz* Huh? Never mind.
Cats, thunderstorms, and life.
.
.
I know this isn't the first time Sassy, the youngest of my cats, has heard thunder. But perhaps there was other noise to distract her. Today, however, she was mightily afraid. She crowded around poppo and mewled, wanting me to make it all go away. A bit of a caress, a few itches behind the ears, and she would be off, brave enough to handle the intrusive noise again. Every once in a while she returns to get some more bravery. Sam, the eldest of my cats, just... notices the noise, perhaps looks. She has the experience of an elder cat dame. Still, with the rain comes chill. She wants poppo as a woman might want a fleece throw. Warmth! And her feet are soooo cold. Reminds me of some parts of women, on cold nights, on the back, come to think of it. The parts that can turn my stomach so fast women have confused me with Flash Gordon for it.
Shoveling, however, is probably off for today. It would be a mess to work out there after this much rain, most likely. The good thing is it will soak in, softening the soil for when I can get to it. It does add to the weight for shoveling though too. Life is about tradeoffs, ones we don't always get to choose. I am not sure, in any case, if I can get to much today. I am feeling good, but noon can't come soon enough. Exhaustion is haunting all but, perhaps, the first hour or two after I wake. Even then I am in my normal morning mode, meaning I am of little use.
At least it is favorable sleeping weather. There definitely is that. My guess is that when summer finally cranks over, sleep will become a rare and wonderful thing. Heat is a brutal stealer of sleep. I went through a minor oddity this morning. Do you remember the degaussing button on older monitors? Remember how the screen would shake? Yeah, well my eyes did that. It's not funny. Well, actually it WAS funny, though the doctors may not agree. I'm not sure what is up with that. So long as it doesn't continue I suppose I am fine. The body just does weird things once in a while, innit?
Later.
.
I know this isn't the first time Sassy, the youngest of my cats, has heard thunder. But perhaps there was other noise to distract her. Today, however, she was mightily afraid. She crowded around poppo and mewled, wanting me to make it all go away. A bit of a caress, a few itches behind the ears, and she would be off, brave enough to handle the intrusive noise again. Every once in a while she returns to get some more bravery. Sam, the eldest of my cats, just... notices the noise, perhaps looks. She has the experience of an elder cat dame. Still, with the rain comes chill. She wants poppo as a woman might want a fleece throw. Warmth! And her feet are soooo cold. Reminds me of some parts of women, on cold nights, on the back, come to think of it. The parts that can turn my stomach so fast women have confused me with Flash Gordon for it.
Shoveling, however, is probably off for today. It would be a mess to work out there after this much rain, most likely. The good thing is it will soak in, softening the soil for when I can get to it. It does add to the weight for shoveling though too. Life is about tradeoffs, ones we don't always get to choose. I am not sure, in any case, if I can get to much today. I am feeling good, but noon can't come soon enough. Exhaustion is haunting all but, perhaps, the first hour or two after I wake. Even then I am in my normal morning mode, meaning I am of little use.
At least it is favorable sleeping weather. There definitely is that. My guess is that when summer finally cranks over, sleep will become a rare and wonderful thing. Heat is a brutal stealer of sleep. I went through a minor oddity this morning. Do you remember the degaussing button on older monitors? Remember how the screen would shake? Yeah, well my eyes did that. It's not funny. Well, actually it WAS funny, though the doctors may not agree. I'm not sure what is up with that. So long as it doesn't continue I suppose I am fine. The body just does weird things once in a while, innit?
Later.
Well, that wasn't too bad.
.
.
This last nap was closer to a real nap. Still, in the last 36 hours or so I have racked up 22 hours of sleep time. While not a record, it is definitely a high in the last few years. I have also been a bit sentimental, sad. Oh, no real worries, most of the time I chuckle at my tearful moments... a bit, later on. Gives me a little something to tease myself regarding. Perhaps it is the high start dosage for the medicine. And yet I probably will keep the medicine going, if I can, and just try to get through it. I know I can handle the medicine, at some point, and I know when to stop taking more. There is a sweet spot and I am willing to try to get to it, at some speed. Damn the pillow torpedoes, full speed ahead.
Two dreams this time, and I remember them. Odd little dreams. The second one, of course, would be about a harem. I had six wives and was negotiating for another. Hey, it was merely a dream. It was a relatively pleasant dream, all said and done, though. I doubt if reality could match it. The other was sort of a creepy story where I entered a small town, rented what I thought would be my own room but ended up sharing it, the people's eyes glowed yellowish green at night (mine glowed with faint red slashes), and became a part of the town but as a complete outsider too. Nothing really dark, just... weird things. Odd things on the edge of life, the periphery of sight, sound, and understandings. Something just off, and it wasn't me, or... my strangeness I was comfortable with anyway. Entertaining all. I give the producer and actors a solid B+ or better.
Perhaps, with this nap, I might be still on for days. If I can stay up until noon I still plan on trying to take a short nap, then get to work in the afternoon. My body, other than being so tired, is back to specs to do pick and shovel work. And I really need to get some other things done. I have been changing the dish water a couple times a day, so that isn't too bad. I will probably have two loads to wash, atm, when I get to it. And I could do a load or two of laundry. Though really, the room and the digging are my primary goals. I just have to... keep... keep the target in sight for when I can get to it.
Have a good morning.
.
This last nap was closer to a real nap. Still, in the last 36 hours or so I have racked up 22 hours of sleep time. While not a record, it is definitely a high in the last few years. I have also been a bit sentimental, sad. Oh, no real worries, most of the time I chuckle at my tearful moments... a bit, later on. Gives me a little something to tease myself regarding. Perhaps it is the high start dosage for the medicine. And yet I probably will keep the medicine going, if I can, and just try to get through it. I know I can handle the medicine, at some point, and I know when to stop taking more. There is a sweet spot and I am willing to try to get to it, at some speed. Damn the pillow torpedoes, full speed ahead.
Two dreams this time, and I remember them. Odd little dreams. The second one, of course, would be about a harem. I had six wives and was negotiating for another. Hey, it was merely a dream. It was a relatively pleasant dream, all said and done, though. I doubt if reality could match it. The other was sort of a creepy story where I entered a small town, rented what I thought would be my own room but ended up sharing it, the people's eyes glowed yellowish green at night (mine glowed with faint red slashes), and became a part of the town but as a complete outsider too. Nothing really dark, just... weird things. Odd things on the edge of life, the periphery of sight, sound, and understandings. Something just off, and it wasn't me, or... my strangeness I was comfortable with anyway. Entertaining all. I give the producer and actors a solid B+ or better.
Perhaps, with this nap, I might be still on for days. If I can stay up until noon I still plan on trying to take a short nap, then get to work in the afternoon. My body, other than being so tired, is back to specs to do pick and shovel work. And I really need to get some other things done. I have been changing the dish water a couple times a day, so that isn't too bad. I will probably have two loads to wash, atm, when I get to it. And I could do a load or two of laundry. Though really, the room and the digging are my primary goals. I just have to... keep... keep the target in sight for when I can get to it.
Have a good morning.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Another... nap?
.
.
Wouch. I'm getting pretty beat up here. But bed is calling again. I suppose bed, for me, is like the bathroom for someone with chronic stomach upset. The sun has been only partially or even rarely out the last few days and it has been cooler, perhaps that is part of it. The other thing might be the medicine. My blood pressure has dropped to 193/123. While 10 points or so, top and bottom, isn't a great deal, that has been the drop in about a week. Perhaps that is coming down too fast for my body to adjust, thus needing sleep? No, I will continue medicine. It is just something I might want to keep noted as a side effect. My guess is, at some point, blood pressure levels will make being active easier. I also believe that a further, much larger, drop will have to take place before activity will return. I am moving much more aggressively than my doctors with regards to medicine, but then a bp of 205/133 was absolutely ridiculous. I didn't see much choice but to act quickly, or... as quickly as I could. And to be assertive with dosage. I am still not sure if I will double the main medicine, to the max I could handle it last time, when I reset medicines this week. I am leaning toward doing so. I've got almost a week to think about it.
Yes, after all that sleep... to be ready for sleep again? I have other reasons to think the medicine is doing it's job as well. One thing I noted when I first started these medicines, and got back on them before, was an absolute inability at self-control in a specific area. My vow to celibacy is impossible of late. Some say that control is never lost. I know that not to be true. Prayers and regrets mean nothing when I first start these meds. No, I don't do porn. Eschewing that at least a decade or so ago. I avoid anything that is too risque, to my mind. If I must look away I don't look to begin with, or... along those lines. No, this is... health returning. Eventually I will take control back in hand. At least this time I understand. What surprises me is that, even sort of expecting it, and erecting defenses, I was caught just as defenseless to it as before. If I were a rope, right now I would be a very knotty rope.
Later... Actually, probably, good night.
.
Wouch. I'm getting pretty beat up here. But bed is calling again. I suppose bed, for me, is like the bathroom for someone with chronic stomach upset. The sun has been only partially or even rarely out the last few days and it has been cooler, perhaps that is part of it. The other thing might be the medicine. My blood pressure has dropped to 193/123. While 10 points or so, top and bottom, isn't a great deal, that has been the drop in about a week. Perhaps that is coming down too fast for my body to adjust, thus needing sleep? No, I will continue medicine. It is just something I might want to keep noted as a side effect. My guess is, at some point, blood pressure levels will make being active easier. I also believe that a further, much larger, drop will have to take place before activity will return. I am moving much more aggressively than my doctors with regards to medicine, but then a bp of 205/133 was absolutely ridiculous. I didn't see much choice but to act quickly, or... as quickly as I could. And to be assertive with dosage. I am still not sure if I will double the main medicine, to the max I could handle it last time, when I reset medicines this week. I am leaning toward doing so. I've got almost a week to think about it.
Yes, after all that sleep... to be ready for sleep again? I have other reasons to think the medicine is doing it's job as well. One thing I noted when I first started these medicines, and got back on them before, was an absolute inability at self-control in a specific area. My vow to celibacy is impossible of late. Some say that control is never lost. I know that not to be true. Prayers and regrets mean nothing when I first start these meds. No, I don't do porn. Eschewing that at least a decade or so ago. I avoid anything that is too risque, to my mind. If I must look away I don't look to begin with, or... along those lines. No, this is... health returning. Eventually I will take control back in hand. At least this time I understand. What surprises me is that, even sort of expecting it, and erecting defenses, I was caught just as defenseless to it as before. If I were a rope, right now I would be a very knotty rope.
Later... Actually, probably, good night.
Nap?
.
.
It was about 11:30 when I laid down. I had no choice. Last night I had slept four hours, gotten up for perhaps three hours, then went back down for eight hours or so, give or take. Waking at 6:00, I thought today would be a good work day. When I went down for my nap I set the alarm for 14:00, just in case I thought. I simply could not wake, finally even hearing and waking to reset the alarm at 14:53. I reset the alarm for 17:00, hoping that would surely be enough. It took me nearly an hour of the alarm sounding off as well before I could finally rise and shut the thing off. I surrendered, this time, to sleep. Whatever my body needed it would take. My willfulness in using an alarm clock would simply irritate the mess. Finally, at 20:00, I am waking. A little stiff, slightly sore, but this may well be blinked off as I wake. Why did I need this kind of sleep? It definitely wasn't a want. There goes my attempt at a day schedule, perhaps, as well.
Never mind. I will cast about for news and information, waking more fully, get something to eat cooking in just a bit, do the dishes, set up the other bed, and... that may be it, if in truth even those things go forward. The need for sleep must simply be part of my health problems. I suppose when I am sleeping deeper and longer I never see the hit. It is only when I am more wakeful, in comparison, that I notice how much sleep my body sometimes demands. Medicines will only ever help just so much. On the good side, it was a mighty fine sleep. I think I dreamed a bit each of my various sleep times. Popcorn, however, was alas not served.
.
It was about 11:30 when I laid down. I had no choice. Last night I had slept four hours, gotten up for perhaps three hours, then went back down for eight hours or so, give or take. Waking at 6:00, I thought today would be a good work day. When I went down for my nap I set the alarm for 14:00, just in case I thought. I simply could not wake, finally even hearing and waking to reset the alarm at 14:53. I reset the alarm for 17:00, hoping that would surely be enough. It took me nearly an hour of the alarm sounding off as well before I could finally rise and shut the thing off. I surrendered, this time, to sleep. Whatever my body needed it would take. My willfulness in using an alarm clock would simply irritate the mess. Finally, at 20:00, I am waking. A little stiff, slightly sore, but this may well be blinked off as I wake. Why did I need this kind of sleep? It definitely wasn't a want. There goes my attempt at a day schedule, perhaps, as well.
Never mind. I will cast about for news and information, waking more fully, get something to eat cooking in just a bit, do the dishes, set up the other bed, and... that may be it, if in truth even those things go forward. The need for sleep must simply be part of my health problems. I suppose when I am sleeping deeper and longer I never see the hit. It is only when I am more wakeful, in comparison, that I notice how much sleep my body sometimes demands. Medicines will only ever help just so much. On the good side, it was a mighty fine sleep. I think I dreamed a bit each of my various sleep times. Popcorn, however, was alas not served.
They sure seem Christian.
.
.
One of the newer bands which I truly enjoy, new to me, is Nightwish. More there older music, though... that may be because there newer stuff isn't quite as available for free. No, I will eventually be buying, should I live a month or two more. So I don't mind free samples for now. What I have noticed, in some of their music, is a artistic connection to Christianity, perhaps Catholicism. I have seen this, on occasion, before. Sometimes as a fluke never to be seen again, sometimes as a complete counter to what was at the time an anti-Christian theme in certain genres. This group tends to be gothic music, of sorts. So there would be a natural... link. Though that link is often contrary, much as with most rock and heavy metal music. Not so with this group, I think. While they may suggest that there is a darker side I don't see that as being their main point. Further, I don't see them as purely a Christian based group. I just note that some of their songs have an air of hope, faith, charity to them. Here are three examples, ones that meant the most this way that I have found so far.
.
One of the newer bands which I truly enjoy, new to me, is Nightwish. More there older music, though... that may be because there newer stuff isn't quite as available for free. No, I will eventually be buying, should I live a month or two more. So I don't mind free samples for now. What I have noticed, in some of their music, is a artistic connection to Christianity, perhaps Catholicism. I have seen this, on occasion, before. Sometimes as a fluke never to be seen again, sometimes as a complete counter to what was at the time an anti-Christian theme in certain genres. This group tends to be gothic music, of sorts. So there would be a natural... link. Though that link is often contrary, much as with most rock and heavy metal music. Not so with this group, I think. While they may suggest that there is a darker side I don't see that as being their main point. Further, I don't see them as purely a Christian based group. I just note that some of their songs have an air of hope, faith, charity to them. Here are three examples, ones that meant the most this way that I have found so far.
Reflections in the mirror?
.
.
In my daily reading sometime I stumble upon something that... makes me stop and think. Was I like that? Whether it is about a uncivil citizen, political idiot, religious zealot or heretic, or such. A big stop sign appears and I need to think about it. If enough key things fit... does the shoe then fit? No, I doubt it is a finger being pointed... just...
Recently reading I ran into such a case. Having just woke up, and with so many coincidences, I almost blushed. Was that truly who or what I was? Everyone's first instincts, in such cases, is "NO!". But that doesn't work. I had to think, was I ever hard on a woman, coming to physical blows? Did I disappear for a day, night, or days on end? Did my women fear me? Was I a cad when involved with a woman? Were my moods mighty and terrible, fearful? Was I, in other words, an unmitigated asshole? First off, I was often an immature ass. I could be incorrigible. And I made more than one man's lifetime share of mistakes. I won't argue that. But... was I consistently such? Was that a sum of who I was?
With short term relationships I never worked up a profile. Most of my relationships were short. There are many questions, to each other, that never are asked. In longer term relationships, however, self doubts appear and so questions are asked or scenarios worked out or remembered, which allow for a clearer view of what type of a man I was. While I did play the cad, that role was distinctly when I was younger. By the time I hit my mid-20's, for example, while knowing I wasn't marriage material I also knew that I was predominately a one woman man. Admittedly, the relationship at that time, as I was coming into my own in being faithful, was full of... inconsistencies. Uhrm, though from both parties involved. The next few relationships, my last ones, were quite... singular. So, yes and no on this. Then again, I was choosing as a non-marriageable man for women who fit my profile, too.
As for violence? There were only two, maybe three, women I ever resorted to violence regarding. No, I never punched a woman, a mate or otherwise (even though sorely tempted when I was a bouncer from time to time, women drunks are inSane). I did spank a few who actually punched me, or hit me in an actual combat way, girlfriends that is. Those were in my early years. But I must admit, if a woman, my woman, tried to strike me even today I would paddle her butt still. I won't tolerate that kind of violence. At all. As for my longer term relationships though, I simply never did have that "problem". Even when I was in the throws of heavy drinking, and feared for my sanity (because doctors can't distinguish between bi-polar and severe heart failure), I often checked with my woman. She never feared me, still doesn't when I visited her since. Which I stopped doing because... she is still interested. And my last? She was a pistol! How else to put it. I did let her know that violence would not be tolerated, that she would be spanked if she went over that line. I think that is the only thing that worked with her, she was a true firecracker. She a shock troop liberal feminist, me... not so much. Oh, we had arguments that lasted weeks it seems, until even here I put my foot down. I would argue only so long before I required proof, documentation, and time to counter that before I would continue. The most I would do with her is... lock my computer room door if she was on a bit of a tear. By the way, she visits me out here to this day. She will probably be visiting this winter, for the third time since I moved. It's boring, sort of, for her, but it is a trip 'somewhere in the mountains'. We still sometimes argue, though mostly for hours on up to half a day. Last time she was here she was getting upset about such an argument. Later, after she had calmed, I talked to her. Not about the topic of disagreement but about the anger. I suggested I enjoyed these little disagreements, and I thought she could to, if she wouldn't take the material as personal, a reflection of herself. Divest emotion and debate, I suggested. I think... she actually, for the first time, saw... something. Yes, I really do enjoy little "discussions". I think she just likes to fight, so will probably never change, even if she might... learn to enjoy that a bit, privately, in the back of her mind. So, no, not a violent guy.
As for moody? No more than typical, albeit with heavier seeming "downs". But that is simply a physical manifestation of having a very bad heart. My ups tend to see me trying to figure out how to cram as much work into whatever time I might have as possible, or whatever social or religious activity as possible. As for the whole bi-polar thing, the guy in question or myself? I call bunk. There is no such thing, possibly. Doctors have just decided to call bad behavior something in order to... write it off the books. A bad man is a bad man, he does bad things because he wants to and to a degree probably has been allowed to do bad things. A man who thinks only of himself, and I have been here, is just a man without cause, goal, reason, or good leadership. Once that mold is set it may take dying to break it. It did in my case, actually three deaths before something sunk in. Yeah, I can be a little... thick. Still, there is a point where people have to stop giving in to the temptation to excuse every bad behavior through medical terms. I have faced much of my music, coming to God. It wasn't pretty, and things still crop up from "the good old days". Memories come back, with all the immature feelings I had regarding them right along with them. And these have to be tempered anew. No excuses. I did what I did, bad heart, bi-polar, or no. I take my hits. So I think the moodiness, which often goes with violence, is moot here too.
Yes, a thought provoking post is good, if it can sure sneak up on me. Oh, sure, I could be downplaying things too. I was and probably can still be a master at self, and other, deception. People do that. But, no, I think I am rather correct. I worked very hard, sweated bullets, swallowed guilt and shame, and slowly let the blinds come off. I also found out how to let go of that, the best I could. Christ as a psycho-social trash bin? Sins are worse than trash, so I am being generous (though not to us, or against Him, as it might seem).. Like a one time favorite song suggests, "When I was young I thought I was the nicest guy I knew. As time went on I learned, I'm not such a nice guy after all." And I am still not a nice guy, if I do my best to be a good guy in the true sense of that. And yet I still fail to be nice. If being good also precludes, sometimes, being a nice guy at all too. *shrug* But that is what I have. I sure regret the harrowing lives some people have gone through even so. Being a woman is no easy task. On balance, I am glad to be a man. Even that isn't so easy, all said and done. But life was never supposed to be easy once we decided we could do better than God's plan for us. Just... clearing some baffles.
Be well.
.
In my daily reading sometime I stumble upon something that... makes me stop and think. Was I like that? Whether it is about a uncivil citizen, political idiot, religious zealot or heretic, or such. A big stop sign appears and I need to think about it. If enough key things fit... does the shoe then fit? No, I doubt it is a finger being pointed... just...
Recently reading I ran into such a case. Having just woke up, and with so many coincidences, I almost blushed. Was that truly who or what I was? Everyone's first instincts, in such cases, is "NO!". But that doesn't work. I had to think, was I ever hard on a woman, coming to physical blows? Did I disappear for a day, night, or days on end? Did my women fear me? Was I a cad when involved with a woman? Were my moods mighty and terrible, fearful? Was I, in other words, an unmitigated asshole? First off, I was often an immature ass. I could be incorrigible. And I made more than one man's lifetime share of mistakes. I won't argue that. But... was I consistently such? Was that a sum of who I was?
With short term relationships I never worked up a profile. Most of my relationships were short. There are many questions, to each other, that never are asked. In longer term relationships, however, self doubts appear and so questions are asked or scenarios worked out or remembered, which allow for a clearer view of what type of a man I was. While I did play the cad, that role was distinctly when I was younger. By the time I hit my mid-20's, for example, while knowing I wasn't marriage material I also knew that I was predominately a one woman man. Admittedly, the relationship at that time, as I was coming into my own in being faithful, was full of... inconsistencies. Uhrm, though from both parties involved. The next few relationships, my last ones, were quite... singular. So, yes and no on this. Then again, I was choosing as a non-marriageable man for women who fit my profile, too.
As for violence? There were only two, maybe three, women I ever resorted to violence regarding. No, I never punched a woman, a mate or otherwise (even though sorely tempted when I was a bouncer from time to time, women drunks are inSane). I did spank a few who actually punched me, or hit me in an actual combat way, girlfriends that is. Those were in my early years. But I must admit, if a woman, my woman, tried to strike me even today I would paddle her butt still. I won't tolerate that kind of violence. At all. As for my longer term relationships though, I simply never did have that "problem". Even when I was in the throws of heavy drinking, and feared for my sanity (because doctors can't distinguish between bi-polar and severe heart failure), I often checked with my woman. She never feared me, still doesn't when I visited her since. Which I stopped doing because... she is still interested. And my last? She was a pistol! How else to put it. I did let her know that violence would not be tolerated, that she would be spanked if she went over that line. I think that is the only thing that worked with her, she was a true firecracker. She a shock troop liberal feminist, me... not so much. Oh, we had arguments that lasted weeks it seems, until even here I put my foot down. I would argue only so long before I required proof, documentation, and time to counter that before I would continue. The most I would do with her is... lock my computer room door if she was on a bit of a tear. By the way, she visits me out here to this day. She will probably be visiting this winter, for the third time since I moved. It's boring, sort of, for her, but it is a trip 'somewhere in the mountains'. We still sometimes argue, though mostly for hours on up to half a day. Last time she was here she was getting upset about such an argument. Later, after she had calmed, I talked to her. Not about the topic of disagreement but about the anger. I suggested I enjoyed these little disagreements, and I thought she could to, if she wouldn't take the material as personal, a reflection of herself. Divest emotion and debate, I suggested. I think... she actually, for the first time, saw... something. Yes, I really do enjoy little "discussions". I think she just likes to fight, so will probably never change, even if she might... learn to enjoy that a bit, privately, in the back of her mind. So, no, not a violent guy.
As for moody? No more than typical, albeit with heavier seeming "downs". But that is simply a physical manifestation of having a very bad heart. My ups tend to see me trying to figure out how to cram as much work into whatever time I might have as possible, or whatever social or religious activity as possible. As for the whole bi-polar thing, the guy in question or myself? I call bunk. There is no such thing, possibly. Doctors have just decided to call bad behavior something in order to... write it off the books. A bad man is a bad man, he does bad things because he wants to and to a degree probably has been allowed to do bad things. A man who thinks only of himself, and I have been here, is just a man without cause, goal, reason, or good leadership. Once that mold is set it may take dying to break it. It did in my case, actually three deaths before something sunk in. Yeah, I can be a little... thick. Still, there is a point where people have to stop giving in to the temptation to excuse every bad behavior through medical terms. I have faced much of my music, coming to God. It wasn't pretty, and things still crop up from "the good old days". Memories come back, with all the immature feelings I had regarding them right along with them. And these have to be tempered anew. No excuses. I did what I did, bad heart, bi-polar, or no. I take my hits. So I think the moodiness, which often goes with violence, is moot here too.
Yes, a thought provoking post is good, if it can sure sneak up on me. Oh, sure, I could be downplaying things too. I was and probably can still be a master at self, and other, deception. People do that. But, no, I think I am rather correct. I worked very hard, sweated bullets, swallowed guilt and shame, and slowly let the blinds come off. I also found out how to let go of that, the best I could. Christ as a psycho-social trash bin? Sins are worse than trash, so I am being generous (though not to us, or against Him, as it might seem).. Like a one time favorite song suggests, "When I was young I thought I was the nicest guy I knew. As time went on I learned, I'm not such a nice guy after all." And I am still not a nice guy, if I do my best to be a good guy in the true sense of that. And yet I still fail to be nice. If being good also precludes, sometimes, being a nice guy at all too. *shrug* But that is what I have. I sure regret the harrowing lives some people have gone through even so. Being a woman is no easy task. On balance, I am glad to be a man. Even that isn't so easy, all said and done. But life was never supposed to be easy once we decided we could do better than God's plan for us. Just... clearing some baffles.
Be well.
Disturbing beauty.
.
.
As I was reviewing my profile regarding a wife, looking at my list, I decided to deconstruct the list. I wanted to tear each piece apart. I wanted to see what could be negotiated, how much negotiation room there is, and what lines negotiations might take. I think I chose which of the three listed requirements to question first badly. No, not that everything can't be questioned. Merely that if you start with something that cannot be completed, the projects that must follow it are also delayed. As is I started with my notion regarding finding a woman able and willing to be married within the Church, the Catholic Church.
I thought the process of creating debate for this would be easy. I would either take a few steps in, find a dead end, and move on... or I would trek through thought after thought, ending at some solution or set of solutions. From the outside it may look like logic is a simple device, to be applied to apples, oranges, fruit pies, family, girlfriends, or whatever else may be presented. Some things simply don't work like that. This is one of those.
While I was freethinking the thing hit me that I should start from the start. Why am I Catholic, well, to within my knowledge of even what all that means? If I don't know that, I cannot know what it means to me. I can't give Catholicism a value, a social or intellectual or spiritual currency basis, without comparison, understanding, requiring some thought. I realized the seed of my conversion, the initial seeds, where probably from initial understandings. I had been Catholic for a very short time when I was quite young, if little of that was functional. Actually, the only thing I do remember is being in a Catholic grade school for about six months, part of either the first or second grade. That was it. And we didn't go to Church much, either. That was about the sum of my introduction to Catholicism.
I did try to find God. As a child, we moved a great deal, yearly at least, as I have mentioned. We almost always lived in small agricultural towns. Often there was only one church, always Protestant. So, I would go to what was available. I began reading and such, looking, seeking, wondering. Oh, and there are good, great, Christians out there who are not Catholic. And there are not so great Christians out there, me being among them. We do what we may. I never did find what I was looking for, eventually I drifted to secular social life.
It wasn't until after my third scrape with death that I, re-awoke? I had seen something there. Something wondrous. Though even now I won't say it was more than oxygen deprivation. But it did move me. Having been close enough to death that only a feather would have tipped the balance forever, and twice so painfully that I was sobbing for my mother, I later came to believe that... what I had experienced that second time was as close to being near God as a human can get before actual death. The love I felt was immeasurable. This was the actual conscious adult seed that sent me on a search for God again, and what led me to Catholicism through accepting and rejecting this and that notion about family, faith, all, and God.
Having cried for my mother once, in part due to nearly delirium inducing pain, I thought the thing was a fluke. I was not on good terms with my mother either of those times, for my part. But when it happened the second time, I realized there was something more to my wanting her near me than I had allowed myself to admit. The love of a mother is an extremely potent thing. I reminded myself of those guys I had literally knocked out, who always suggested they had slipped on something. *BaM* I too was trying to say... I had slipped on something. Well, and I did. When humility is beyond rejection, there was the love. What I realized in that last dying was that God's love was well beyond even the love I held for my mother, if those two things are the only thing so powerful I have ever encountered. I try not to think about it too often. It sort of rips me up when I do. But I know it, intimately. While, if dying painfully again, I realize I will still call for my mother... I know these two things. Give unto Caesar what is Caesar, and moms are one of our Caesars. And, mother is another name for a form of the love of God. All of this is wrapped up in the notion of family. It is as close to God as we can get without nearing or actually dying.
Call me a ninny, a crybaby. Deny my death, deny my vision. Don't deny my words upon your very soul. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Trust me, it's a bargain. Imagine buying the Mona Lisa for a dollar, then stretch that beyond your imagination. For that is a weak, nearly negligible, example.
In short, being married Catholic stays. I'm in no shape, now, to revisit the other propositions. All men are equal when their memory fades, probably as it fades too. Even an ogre can cry, and know what real love is worth. It is simply everything. That is why I am a Catholic.
.
As I was reviewing my profile regarding a wife, looking at my list, I decided to deconstruct the list. I wanted to tear each piece apart. I wanted to see what could be negotiated, how much negotiation room there is, and what lines negotiations might take. I think I chose which of the three listed requirements to question first badly. No, not that everything can't be questioned. Merely that if you start with something that cannot be completed, the projects that must follow it are also delayed. As is I started with my notion regarding finding a woman able and willing to be married within the Church, the Catholic Church.
I thought the process of creating debate for this would be easy. I would either take a few steps in, find a dead end, and move on... or I would trek through thought after thought, ending at some solution or set of solutions. From the outside it may look like logic is a simple device, to be applied to apples, oranges, fruit pies, family, girlfriends, or whatever else may be presented. Some things simply don't work like that. This is one of those.
While I was freethinking the thing hit me that I should start from the start. Why am I Catholic, well, to within my knowledge of even what all that means? If I don't know that, I cannot know what it means to me. I can't give Catholicism a value, a social or intellectual or spiritual currency basis, without comparison, understanding, requiring some thought. I realized the seed of my conversion, the initial seeds, where probably from initial understandings. I had been Catholic for a very short time when I was quite young, if little of that was functional. Actually, the only thing I do remember is being in a Catholic grade school for about six months, part of either the first or second grade. That was it. And we didn't go to Church much, either. That was about the sum of my introduction to Catholicism.
I did try to find God. As a child, we moved a great deal, yearly at least, as I have mentioned. We almost always lived in small agricultural towns. Often there was only one church, always Protestant. So, I would go to what was available. I began reading and such, looking, seeking, wondering. Oh, and there are good, great, Christians out there who are not Catholic. And there are not so great Christians out there, me being among them. We do what we may. I never did find what I was looking for, eventually I drifted to secular social life.
It wasn't until after my third scrape with death that I, re-awoke? I had seen something there. Something wondrous. Though even now I won't say it was more than oxygen deprivation. But it did move me. Having been close enough to death that only a feather would have tipped the balance forever, and twice so painfully that I was sobbing for my mother, I later came to believe that... what I had experienced that second time was as close to being near God as a human can get before actual death. The love I felt was immeasurable. This was the actual conscious adult seed that sent me on a search for God again, and what led me to Catholicism through accepting and rejecting this and that notion about family, faith, all, and God.
Having cried for my mother once, in part due to nearly delirium inducing pain, I thought the thing was a fluke. I was not on good terms with my mother either of those times, for my part. But when it happened the second time, I realized there was something more to my wanting her near me than I had allowed myself to admit. The love of a mother is an extremely potent thing. I reminded myself of those guys I had literally knocked out, who always suggested they had slipped on something. *BaM* I too was trying to say... I had slipped on something. Well, and I did. When humility is beyond rejection, there was the love. What I realized in that last dying was that God's love was well beyond even the love I held for my mother, if those two things are the only thing so powerful I have ever encountered. I try not to think about it too often. It sort of rips me up when I do. But I know it, intimately. While, if dying painfully again, I realize I will still call for my mother... I know these two things. Give unto Caesar what is Caesar, and moms are one of our Caesars. And, mother is another name for a form of the love of God. All of this is wrapped up in the notion of family. It is as close to God as we can get without nearing or actually dying.
Call me a ninny, a crybaby. Deny my death, deny my vision. Don't deny my words upon your very soul. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Trust me, it's a bargain. Imagine buying the Mona Lisa for a dollar, then stretch that beyond your imagination. For that is a weak, nearly negligible, example.
In short, being married Catholic stays. I'm in no shape, now, to revisit the other propositions. All men are equal when their memory fades, probably as it fades too. Even an ogre can cry, and know what real love is worth. It is simply everything. That is why I am a Catholic.
Ha!
.
.
Okay, nothing fancy. I am pleased though. No, didn't get much done. I did tell my friend, yesterday, that I would be in town today to get him shopping and out of his apartment. Without being able to sleep last night I was not sure I could fulfill my pledge. I stayed awake until 10:00, then 11:00, and he called. I suggested 13:00 as the time I would attempt to be there. I was hemorrhaging time like a pro, I knew, if I made it in, I would have to do something to... track time. Ah, that little timer! I set it for 25 minute intervals. The first two I just "wasted" trying to regain focus. The next interval was used to take a shower and get dressed. I then reset the thing to zero (it uses no battery life when reset). I was in my auto. I made it just on time. I need to start remembering this puppy when I try to make Mass. It won't always work, but it sure can help me keep track of moments.
In town I finally joined Sam's Club. Why? Bulk buying, mostly. As I know, it isn't always the most economical to buy there, bulk or no. What is good is the convenience. Some things, packaged in too large of doses, are useless to me. Many things are exactly what I am looking for. The odd thing is my friend could also get a card, so we split the cost. He needed primers too, so another store was visited. About that time my attempts to stay awake were coming unraveled. Still, a drive up the canyon is just the thing for a sleepy driver. It was raining, or threatening that strongly, so no shooting occurred. Up the canyon just a bit, then I told my friend I had to close the day down. He seemed happy with it, probably just realized how drowsy I had become and has this... thing about a longer life. :p
Dropping him off I headed straight home. I stayed up for dinner. At shortly after 18:00 I hit the sack like a freight train. No need for a pillow fight with myself, bothering with comfort, or rolling for an hour or three or five. *Bam* Lights out. I hit so damn hard I bet I left a crater in Sleepsville. Waking at 23:00 I am... casting about for food, fighting off the local natives (those girls are hungry all the time these days), and figuring out how much of a sleep time-out I will be forced to take before crash landing again. I would love to get back to bed in a few hours, then be up for daylight tomorrow. I have work to do!
I had zero luck with women today. Though, to be honest, women can be quick. It is only a few that 'put the lights on', and I think those are... exceptional displays, probably having to do with hormonal fluxes. It's the woman that looks at you while you aren't looking, and does so consciously, that would be the type of woman I am seeking. Of course, you probably won't catch such a woman... unless she wants to be caught, is free to be caught. They can eye-gauge you in about a billionth of a nano-second.
Oh, I realize that I... dabble in the fantasy. I make mistakes, or might see or make more of something than what is there. I might misconstrue something said by third parties. Leave my flights of fancy alone, it's... it gives me hope. At 45, I would be hard pressed to lure a 20-something, even a low 30-something might be a difficult catch. Being honest. And yet... even without wealth, it does happen. Perhaps more than ever. Many men, especially the younger men up into their 30's and older, are completely backing out of the whole marriage charade, many women are noticing. Women WANT to be married, most of them, if too few know what that even actually means. So many women just want the photos, dress, cake, party, social status, and dress, I think? Then again, maybe that is where it has to start for them? Men have our own... follies in this regard.
Oh, I'll begin looking through the Catholic sites, figure out which ones I would have any interest participating with. I do need to get some pictures taken, and in digital form. Though part of my holdup is that this computer for sure is simply not secure. Actually, no computer is secure. I won't paste my pictures anywhere, but I might send them to prospective women through certain channels. And, no, it won't be in a Speedo (or less). Heh. Still, I look better than Weiner. What was he, that was a 7th grade physique! The trick is to get flattering photos, or at least passable ones. I am, strictly speaking, not photogenic. Though I am not handsome to start with, age and size (size matters here, too, I just don't "fit" camera aspects well) really add to the toll. Thankfully women don't necessarily like what I like, visually, or even seem to see the same fricking thing? All good, all good, don't mind the notion expressed, that part can be discussed with a woman later. Ugh! If I frame the photo to show my full size... that actually helps. Having my head near the roof, framed (as much as is sometimes possible) in a door, or with me near a vehicle or other common large objects by which estimates can be made... that helps adjust the size issue. The ugly issue? No, that's just the way it is. Same with age, though shaving right before and being rested for the photo helps with that. Yugh! I hate photos, I really, really, do.
Later.
.
Okay, nothing fancy. I am pleased though. No, didn't get much done. I did tell my friend, yesterday, that I would be in town today to get him shopping and out of his apartment. Without being able to sleep last night I was not sure I could fulfill my pledge. I stayed awake until 10:00, then 11:00, and he called. I suggested 13:00 as the time I would attempt to be there. I was hemorrhaging time like a pro, I knew, if I made it in, I would have to do something to... track time. Ah, that little timer! I set it for 25 minute intervals. The first two I just "wasted" trying to regain focus. The next interval was used to take a shower and get dressed. I then reset the thing to zero (it uses no battery life when reset). I was in my auto. I made it just on time. I need to start remembering this puppy when I try to make Mass. It won't always work, but it sure can help me keep track of moments.
In town I finally joined Sam's Club. Why? Bulk buying, mostly. As I know, it isn't always the most economical to buy there, bulk or no. What is good is the convenience. Some things, packaged in too large of doses, are useless to me. Many things are exactly what I am looking for. The odd thing is my friend could also get a card, so we split the cost. He needed primers too, so another store was visited. About that time my attempts to stay awake were coming unraveled. Still, a drive up the canyon is just the thing for a sleepy driver. It was raining, or threatening that strongly, so no shooting occurred. Up the canyon just a bit, then I told my friend I had to close the day down. He seemed happy with it, probably just realized how drowsy I had become and has this... thing about a longer life. :p
Dropping him off I headed straight home. I stayed up for dinner. At shortly after 18:00 I hit the sack like a freight train. No need for a pillow fight with myself, bothering with comfort, or rolling for an hour or three or five. *Bam* Lights out. I hit so damn hard I bet I left a crater in Sleepsville. Waking at 23:00 I am... casting about for food, fighting off the local natives (those girls are hungry all the time these days), and figuring out how much of a sleep time-out I will be forced to take before crash landing again. I would love to get back to bed in a few hours, then be up for daylight tomorrow. I have work to do!
I had zero luck with women today. Though, to be honest, women can be quick. It is only a few that 'put the lights on', and I think those are... exceptional displays, probably having to do with hormonal fluxes. It's the woman that looks at you while you aren't looking, and does so consciously, that would be the type of woman I am seeking. Of course, you probably won't catch such a woman... unless she wants to be caught, is free to be caught. They can eye-gauge you in about a billionth of a nano-second.
Oh, I realize that I... dabble in the fantasy. I make mistakes, or might see or make more of something than what is there. I might misconstrue something said by third parties. Leave my flights of fancy alone, it's... it gives me hope. At 45, I would be hard pressed to lure a 20-something, even a low 30-something might be a difficult catch. Being honest. And yet... even without wealth, it does happen. Perhaps more than ever. Many men, especially the younger men up into their 30's and older, are completely backing out of the whole marriage charade, many women are noticing. Women WANT to be married, most of them, if too few know what that even actually means. So many women just want the photos, dress, cake, party, social status, and dress, I think? Then again, maybe that is where it has to start for them? Men have our own... follies in this regard.
Oh, I'll begin looking through the Catholic sites, figure out which ones I would have any interest participating with. I do need to get some pictures taken, and in digital form. Though part of my holdup is that this computer for sure is simply not secure. Actually, no computer is secure. I won't paste my pictures anywhere, but I might send them to prospective women through certain channels. And, no, it won't be in a Speedo (or less). Heh. Still, I look better than Weiner. What was he, that was a 7th grade physique! The trick is to get flattering photos, or at least passable ones. I am, strictly speaking, not photogenic. Though I am not handsome to start with, age and size (size matters here, too, I just don't "fit" camera aspects well) really add to the toll. Thankfully women don't necessarily like what I like, visually, or even seem to see the same fricking thing? All good, all good, don't mind the notion expressed, that part can be discussed with a woman later. Ugh! If I frame the photo to show my full size... that actually helps. Having my head near the roof, framed (as much as is sometimes possible) in a door, or with me near a vehicle or other common large objects by which estimates can be made... that helps adjust the size issue. The ugly issue? No, that's just the way it is. Same with age, though shaving right before and being rested for the photo helps with that. Yugh! I hate photos, I really, really, do.
Later.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Things on my mind, I guess.
.
.
I realize that people do read here. And, as can happen, they sort of treat reading here just as if they were talking to me and I told them what I wrote here. Now, that is fine for most things. What I say and write are quite often the same thing. When that isn't true, however, there seem to be... problems.
You aren't reading what I say, or even would say. You are being exposed to my mind, to the degree that is possible. There is, for example, the mundane, practical, sure, fact stuff. That is, for the most part, what I might tell you, along with some of the theory, that which is worked up well enough to be offered for review as well as being acceptable to polite company. What else goes on here is akin to data digestion. If you looked in my stomach after feeding me a dinner, would you think you had done the wrong thing to feed me? Maybe.
I think about things, explore possibilities, kick ideas around, and yes, have little fits of paranoia. If you see a problem, or belief that I seem to have, here, and it bugs you, but I never bring it up to you, ask you about it, or directly imply it when speaking with you, then it probably is nothing for you to worry about. Now, if on the other hand, you don't like something I write that is more of the factual... tough luck buddy. You are in MY mind. If you don't like it, blog off. I am what I am, I did what I did, I will do what I do, and only some of that can be addressed, even if I wanted it.
Yes, I have seen... doubts in eyes. I have had people glance away, or... such. Yes, I do know you read here. I may not ever have hunted a bear, I never went after a mountain lion or a rhino, but I have dealt with men on both sides of the hunt, and women too, if the two were usually different the tactics can be quite similar. I have known literally thousands of people, personally, well. I am better at reading people than you really have any reason to believe.
I'm still not sure if it is thought that I am completely full of crap, or full of it but entertaining (until I'm not), or... what. I think there is confusion, to a degree. Men say, if it smells like crap (or I don't like it), then it is crap. Women are more like, well, yeah, but... Are you sure it's crap, I mean, it could be... No, dear, it's crap. And yet even they... wonder. I see it, when you don't look at me (and have no reason not to), when you avert your eyes, or even when you look right into my eyes without... seeing. I don't care, just... I do notice. I almost hate this blog, sometimes, for that reason. But... this is simply what I thought would be a personal tool to... think things out, relive memories, try to keep a bit of a schedule... keep myself on better track, even live out fantasy to see how it might work out or look when pseudo printed. If you have a problem here, like I said, the problem is yours. Deal. You do realize, I may or may not take you on a long walk over a short pier, don't you? Even if I happened to be insane, which I don't think is true but let's play your game and say I am... I'm not stupid and insane.
.
I realize that people do read here. And, as can happen, they sort of treat reading here just as if they were talking to me and I told them what I wrote here. Now, that is fine for most things. What I say and write are quite often the same thing. When that isn't true, however, there seem to be... problems.
You aren't reading what I say, or even would say. You are being exposed to my mind, to the degree that is possible. There is, for example, the mundane, practical, sure, fact stuff. That is, for the most part, what I might tell you, along with some of the theory, that which is worked up well enough to be offered for review as well as being acceptable to polite company. What else goes on here is akin to data digestion. If you looked in my stomach after feeding me a dinner, would you think you had done the wrong thing to feed me? Maybe.
I think about things, explore possibilities, kick ideas around, and yes, have little fits of paranoia. If you see a problem, or belief that I seem to have, here, and it bugs you, but I never bring it up to you, ask you about it, or directly imply it when speaking with you, then it probably is nothing for you to worry about. Now, if on the other hand, you don't like something I write that is more of the factual... tough luck buddy. You are in MY mind. If you don't like it, blog off. I am what I am, I did what I did, I will do what I do, and only some of that can be addressed, even if I wanted it.
Yes, I have seen... doubts in eyes. I have had people glance away, or... such. Yes, I do know you read here. I may not ever have hunted a bear, I never went after a mountain lion or a rhino, but I have dealt with men on both sides of the hunt, and women too, if the two were usually different the tactics can be quite similar. I have known literally thousands of people, personally, well. I am better at reading people than you really have any reason to believe.
I'm still not sure if it is thought that I am completely full of crap, or full of it but entertaining (until I'm not), or... what. I think there is confusion, to a degree. Men say, if it smells like crap (or I don't like it), then it is crap. Women are more like, well, yeah, but... Are you sure it's crap, I mean, it could be... No, dear, it's crap. And yet even they... wonder. I see it, when you don't look at me (and have no reason not to), when you avert your eyes, or even when you look right into my eyes without... seeing. I don't care, just... I do notice. I almost hate this blog, sometimes, for that reason. But... this is simply what I thought would be a personal tool to... think things out, relive memories, try to keep a bit of a schedule... keep myself on better track, even live out fantasy to see how it might work out or look when pseudo printed. If you have a problem here, like I said, the problem is yours. Deal. You do realize, I may or may not take you on a long walk over a short pier, don't you? Even if I happened to be insane, which I don't think is true but let's play your game and say I am... I'm not stupid and insane.
Not quite.
.
.
Sleep doesn't always happen as I would wish it. I called my friend earlier today and he needs to shop and we will see if the mountain paths are open to travel in order to shoot just a bit. A pistol apiece, along for the ride, just in case. I set the thing up to try and not fall back into the pit. Perhaps with a bit of shopping, travel, and shooting I might find myself ready to shovel and pick tomorrow. Being able to do something nearly everyday makes the... sense of urgency fail. If I could dig another foot or maybe two into where I was digging I might have enough room to dig out under the faucet itself. The deeper the thing gets the further back I need to chip out in order to even be in the hole, or possible to get out of the hole. Clay, I am told, is what I am digging. Well, and rocks. Roots seem to grab rocks as well, pulling them around themselves like shields. A half hour might see me to a big enough hole to truly begin digging down.
Paranoia has visited. While I still get the sense that people have been in my home, what was missing has been found. There were only three places the items could have been. I put things in a specific place, when I am storing up on short to medium term items. These where there but had been set aside, out of place just a bit, then covered up. All good. And, no, these weren't actually items ornery rugrats would have taken, I was just... using misdirection with that. You can't blame me for being a bit paranoid though, on these matters. The last few places I lived I had people breaking in and really taking lots of things. I knew it but could do little about it, though the new locks the owner put on my door did actually stop most of it. You get a little... touchy. It wasn't even losing stuff. If someone needs, and asks, I would give what I could. Lend-lease sort of thing. I give you sugar today, perhaps I get flour from you tomorrow. I don't mind. Even if I never need I always have that... relationship. And my larder is yours if you are short and really in need, almost doesn't matter who you are, if I have it to offer. Don't... care... about... stuff... unless I am right about to eat it! :p
My prayers continue. Sometimes just in my mind, sometimes out loud. I've got the main prayer down to sections. One section is my standard devotional. Thank you for breath, life, not killing me as a child or young adult as I might sorely have deserved, and the rest. Another part is just about women, a wife, me, and how to mix, stir, bake, and not run away, run away fast. Sir Robin? Indeed. I have, from time to time, a special section regarding people in need. Sometimes I know of no one troubled, so simply pray for the weak, foolish, hungry, lost, ill, and such, oh, and enemies. Currently I have a number of people on the list, my enemies are more... the enemy over there... at the moment. And another section is for the Church, various ministries in the Church, the laity, and all, up and down the ascension, nun to our Pope. For wisdom there and for people to step forward to fill the roles. Sometimes it's a mouthful, sometimes if I am quite tired I just suggest God knows what is in my heart, touch on key points or needs or people, and leave it there. My silent little prayers are often for the first hearing that someone is in need, or about particularly bad or evil news, or when a thought comes to mind that... I would rather send away or possibly cherish. You know, it doesn't have to be all formal or just for bad things or wants?
I best be off to try to sleep again. I suggested my friend call around 11:00 or 12:00. I may not get eight or even six hours of sleep in. As long as I get some rest and a bit of sleep I should be good.
I did see two article regarding women and choosing their mates. One article makes it seem that women make snap (3 minutes max) decisions. Though the writer of the article seems to understand my own thinking as I come about on some matters, albeit they do it from a woman's perspective or side of things. The other article indicates decisions are dependent on a woman's cycles, she will choose a playboy at high noon, a beta the rest of the time. And, yeah, that makes ugly sense from what I have seen. It sure makes me wonder which I am now considered. It helps me understand the hit and miss thing for me. Now, which am I though? Heh. Puzzle me this... If I am seen as alpha, that is an excellent thing. I have some built in beta with the house, an income, and being ill, mostly. Seriously. Or... is it the other way around. Ghah! Enough thinking for the night.
Good night.
.
Sleep doesn't always happen as I would wish it. I called my friend earlier today and he needs to shop and we will see if the mountain paths are open to travel in order to shoot just a bit. A pistol apiece, along for the ride, just in case. I set the thing up to try and not fall back into the pit. Perhaps with a bit of shopping, travel, and shooting I might find myself ready to shovel and pick tomorrow. Being able to do something nearly everyday makes the... sense of urgency fail. If I could dig another foot or maybe two into where I was digging I might have enough room to dig out under the faucet itself. The deeper the thing gets the further back I need to chip out in order to even be in the hole, or possible to get out of the hole. Clay, I am told, is what I am digging. Well, and rocks. Roots seem to grab rocks as well, pulling them around themselves like shields. A half hour might see me to a big enough hole to truly begin digging down.
Paranoia has visited. While I still get the sense that people have been in my home, what was missing has been found. There were only three places the items could have been. I put things in a specific place, when I am storing up on short to medium term items. These where there but had been set aside, out of place just a bit, then covered up. All good. And, no, these weren't actually items ornery rugrats would have taken, I was just... using misdirection with that. You can't blame me for being a bit paranoid though, on these matters. The last few places I lived I had people breaking in and really taking lots of things. I knew it but could do little about it, though the new locks the owner put on my door did actually stop most of it. You get a little... touchy. It wasn't even losing stuff. If someone needs, and asks, I would give what I could. Lend-lease sort of thing. I give you sugar today, perhaps I get flour from you tomorrow. I don't mind. Even if I never need I always have that... relationship. And my larder is yours if you are short and really in need, almost doesn't matter who you are, if I have it to offer. Don't... care... about... stuff... unless I am right about to eat it! :p
My prayers continue. Sometimes just in my mind, sometimes out loud. I've got the main prayer down to sections. One section is my standard devotional. Thank you for breath, life, not killing me as a child or young adult as I might sorely have deserved, and the rest. Another part is just about women, a wife, me, and how to mix, stir, bake, and not run away, run away fast. Sir Robin? Indeed. I have, from time to time, a special section regarding people in need. Sometimes I know of no one troubled, so simply pray for the weak, foolish, hungry, lost, ill, and such, oh, and enemies. Currently I have a number of people on the list, my enemies are more... the enemy over there... at the moment. And another section is for the Church, various ministries in the Church, the laity, and all, up and down the ascension, nun to our Pope. For wisdom there and for people to step forward to fill the roles. Sometimes it's a mouthful, sometimes if I am quite tired I just suggest God knows what is in my heart, touch on key points or needs or people, and leave it there. My silent little prayers are often for the first hearing that someone is in need, or about particularly bad or evil news, or when a thought comes to mind that... I would rather send away or possibly cherish. You know, it doesn't have to be all formal or just for bad things or wants?
I best be off to try to sleep again. I suggested my friend call around 11:00 or 12:00. I may not get eight or even six hours of sleep in. As long as I get some rest and a bit of sleep I should be good.
I did see two article regarding women and choosing their mates. One article makes it seem that women make snap (3 minutes max) decisions. Though the writer of the article seems to understand my own thinking as I come about on some matters, albeit they do it from a woman's perspective or side of things. The other article indicates decisions are dependent on a woman's cycles, she will choose a playboy at high noon, a beta the rest of the time. And, yeah, that makes ugly sense from what I have seen. It sure makes me wonder which I am now considered. It helps me understand the hit and miss thing for me. Now, which am I though? Heh. Puzzle me this... If I am seen as alpha, that is an excellent thing. I have some built in beta with the house, an income, and being ill, mostly. Seriously. Or... is it the other way around. Ghah! Enough thinking for the night.
Good night.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Okay, yeah, I see that.
.
.
The problem? Finding women who will fit a simple formula. And, yes, it has to fit. She needs to be able and willing to marry in the Catholic Church, she has to be able to have children and be completely open to that, and she has to be willing to be a stay-at-home mom. That is a rather short list, a rather constraining one as well. Oh, sure, I can meet women. I have met women. There are women available to me right now, though probably not for marriage. And there are thousands of women all around, some of them worthy of a strong pursuit. But with the huge lopsided random variables that I would need to but won't be setting aside.
A quick review of suggested places to meet women comes up with the same things I used to use. Bars were not a good place to find a woman, for a number of reasons. The other places, such as grocery stores, sporting events, and such offer some chance of an encounter, but a completely random encounter... one based on appearances, mutual interest, the very things I am needing to get away from to a degree. While those are great if you are willing to completely adjust your goals, or simply free-style the thing, this is where my mechanical hang-up is.
The suggestion that comes up the most, as the most reliable, is through building contacts. Well, yes. That is what I am doing, as poorly as I do it. This method takes the most time, being relatively new to a new area. I think, absolutely, this is probably the most likely scenario. It isn't perfect, it isn't what my nature likes, but to get from the point a of bachelorhood to point b of being married as I have described, it is probably the only way. Now, I am trying to become involved anyway. So that isn't as big of a strain as it might have been, say, ten years ago. I live in a place where society is sane enough to contemplate taking part in it. And, while I would like to do more, sometimes I just won't be able to be involved. But, that is going forward.
No, this isn't going to be just running down to the store and buying a loaf of bread. That never worked for me anyway. It may, in truth, never happen. I might be deemed as unfit, and reasonably arguably that might be true. The women who are presented, if such a thing happens, may not be interested. I may not be interested. I really should have figured this out years ago. I simply didn't have a working model, a faith, nor did I see, being mostly secular, what the payoff would be. Heck, I still argue that a secular man probably shouldn't commit to marriage. There simply is no need and a lot of reasons against it. I might even go so far as to say that if you are a Christian man, weighing all things, at this time in history, marriage might best be abandoned. As if that isn't happening anyway. For many. Why I am called to it, and seriously looking into it... is a personal thing. A literal calling. For many mistaken men, it is a repetition of what they saw their parents do, or even what happens in the movies. Ser-us-ly. A behavior based on laws and social notions that are no longer in play. Bah! Something like that. Still, given my marching orders, despite my uneasiness, that is my plan.
It actually looks like I am doing, as ably as I can, the right things. I am casting my nets in the correct waters, or at least I have found the right waters. I am focusing myself on my past and present in order to produce a better future. I am even thinking about any possible Mrs., and tending to her real needs, before having met her. I will be her guardian, that needs to start, albeit reasonably, beforehand. I can't treat a woman as a lump of pleasurable flesh in my mind or during our initial dustup only to later come to be protective. Trust me, that doesn't work. It might work for some, but I see that as the incorrect way. There are little strands of things I am seeing, things that work, things that don't work, things that are neutral, and how they need to be twined together, not just... something... Sort of like playing a piano using several fingers and both hands rather than pecking at the keyboard with one finger. Much better music is produced when fully engaged. Yeah, I'm... doing okay.
Well, and actually, I am now in a place, an area of the country, where marriage is still held as valid, where wives are lauded for being heart and hearth of the home, and where mothers are honored and respected. I have a home. I've been moving this way for a long time, come to think of it. I suppose I should just relax a bit and enjoy the journey too. It's been a long one. A good one. God sort of sneaks good things up on you when you are trying to do His will. Even if you can't always see it or grow impatient. Something about forests and trees perhaps.
Good day.
.
The problem? Finding women who will fit a simple formula. And, yes, it has to fit. She needs to be able and willing to marry in the Catholic Church, she has to be able to have children and be completely open to that, and she has to be willing to be a stay-at-home mom. That is a rather short list, a rather constraining one as well. Oh, sure, I can meet women. I have met women. There are women available to me right now, though probably not for marriage. And there are thousands of women all around, some of them worthy of a strong pursuit. But with the huge lopsided random variables that I would need to but won't be setting aside.
A quick review of suggested places to meet women comes up with the same things I used to use. Bars were not a good place to find a woman, for a number of reasons. The other places, such as grocery stores, sporting events, and such offer some chance of an encounter, but a completely random encounter... one based on appearances, mutual interest, the very things I am needing to get away from to a degree. While those are great if you are willing to completely adjust your goals, or simply free-style the thing, this is where my mechanical hang-up is.
The suggestion that comes up the most, as the most reliable, is through building contacts. Well, yes. That is what I am doing, as poorly as I do it. This method takes the most time, being relatively new to a new area. I think, absolutely, this is probably the most likely scenario. It isn't perfect, it isn't what my nature likes, but to get from the point a of bachelorhood to point b of being married as I have described, it is probably the only way. Now, I am trying to become involved anyway. So that isn't as big of a strain as it might have been, say, ten years ago. I live in a place where society is sane enough to contemplate taking part in it. And, while I would like to do more, sometimes I just won't be able to be involved. But, that is going forward.
No, this isn't going to be just running down to the store and buying a loaf of bread. That never worked for me anyway. It may, in truth, never happen. I might be deemed as unfit, and reasonably arguably that might be true. The women who are presented, if such a thing happens, may not be interested. I may not be interested. I really should have figured this out years ago. I simply didn't have a working model, a faith, nor did I see, being mostly secular, what the payoff would be. Heck, I still argue that a secular man probably shouldn't commit to marriage. There simply is no need and a lot of reasons against it. I might even go so far as to say that if you are a Christian man, weighing all things, at this time in history, marriage might best be abandoned. As if that isn't happening anyway. For many. Why I am called to it, and seriously looking into it... is a personal thing. A literal calling. For many mistaken men, it is a repetition of what they saw their parents do, or even what happens in the movies. Ser-us-ly. A behavior based on laws and social notions that are no longer in play. Bah! Something like that. Still, given my marching orders, despite my uneasiness, that is my plan.
It actually looks like I am doing, as ably as I can, the right things. I am casting my nets in the correct waters, or at least I have found the right waters. I am focusing myself on my past and present in order to produce a better future. I am even thinking about any possible Mrs., and tending to her real needs, before having met her. I will be her guardian, that needs to start, albeit reasonably, beforehand. I can't treat a woman as a lump of pleasurable flesh in my mind or during our initial dustup only to later come to be protective. Trust me, that doesn't work. It might work for some, but I see that as the incorrect way. There are little strands of things I am seeing, things that work, things that don't work, things that are neutral, and how they need to be twined together, not just... something... Sort of like playing a piano using several fingers and both hands rather than pecking at the keyboard with one finger. Much better music is produced when fully engaged. Yeah, I'm... doing okay.
Well, and actually, I am now in a place, an area of the country, where marriage is still held as valid, where wives are lauded for being heart and hearth of the home, and where mothers are honored and respected. I have a home. I've been moving this way for a long time, come to think of it. I suppose I should just relax a bit and enjoy the journey too. It's been a long one. A good one. God sort of sneaks good things up on you when you are trying to do His will. Even if you can't always see it or grow impatient. Something about forests and trees perhaps.
Good day.
When you can't sleep or stay awake...
.
.
The mind wanders when left to it's own devices. And, like the thing with the tongue going over the tooth that hurts, the mind finds what is troubling and... digs in. All good. The "revert to draft" button fixes a fixated mind. Although, in writing, I did see the immature nature of my life. Yes. That want of freedom, a freedom that as a bachelor I know doesn't really exist. It is sort of the difference between freedom of and freedom from religion. It can be difficult to see at certain angles but it is certainly there.
I ended up finally getting to bed around 9:00 or 10:00 or maybe even 11:00. I was so bombed when I went to bed at 8:30 and yet I simply could not sleep until a good deal later. I'll be working on that. Though, for the moment, I am sort of driven by health? I did push this weekend, and my body pushed back, most likely. All good, I did some good work. I stood up and tried to at least show some support for what I say I believe. It was, comparatively, rather weak. But it was everything I had and then some, by the feel of things.
Bones and body are on the mend. Actually, now, the only real pain I have is from sleeping so awfully. The legs and back are still a bit stiff, not painful. I am hoping to roust around tomorrow and get back to shoveling. I am hoping to stretch the digging up to a half hour, though I won't promise that. Even today I may get nothing done, as was the case yesterday. My goals failed to be fulfilled. I hope to do more. As I hoped yesterday. As I hope tomorrow.
Did anyone else hear that Eduardo Saverin, co-founder of Facebook, had denounced his US citizenship? Oh, some people are jumping mad about it. To be honest I am not. If I was about to come into a ton of money like that I would be on the first boat off this shipwreck, or definitely considering it. How much has he already paid, and to what ends, what thanks? One must realize there are... problems with renouncing US citizenship. He may well learn that. Money can be a comfort, and great money can permit access, freedoms, possibilities. It can also become an anchor in an angry see of hungry people, greedy people and governments everywhere, and lots of mischief. Then again, isn't that why he is ending his US citizenship. Be angry all you want, I can't say I blame him, at all. His family left their home nation because of kidnapping threats, he is leaving this nation because of direct threats to his wealth (HIS WEALTH). Oh, and leave California even if you can't quite leave the US. Stop giving in to stupid, economically suicidal, politics and policies. Just quit feeding the machine that turns your money into mulch, and doubles down by printing more money reducing the worth of your wealth further and on top of it! He is not denouncing the US as a nation, he is denouncing the current US theft of his money. Yikes.
All good. Have a good day.
.
The mind wanders when left to it's own devices. And, like the thing with the tongue going over the tooth that hurts, the mind finds what is troubling and... digs in. All good. The "revert to draft" button fixes a fixated mind. Although, in writing, I did see the immature nature of my life. Yes. That want of freedom, a freedom that as a bachelor I know doesn't really exist. It is sort of the difference between freedom of and freedom from religion. It can be difficult to see at certain angles but it is certainly there.
I ended up finally getting to bed around 9:00 or 10:00 or maybe even 11:00. I was so bombed when I went to bed at 8:30 and yet I simply could not sleep until a good deal later. I'll be working on that. Though, for the moment, I am sort of driven by health? I did push this weekend, and my body pushed back, most likely. All good, I did some good work. I stood up and tried to at least show some support for what I say I believe. It was, comparatively, rather weak. But it was everything I had and then some, by the feel of things.
Bones and body are on the mend. Actually, now, the only real pain I have is from sleeping so awfully. The legs and back are still a bit stiff, not painful. I am hoping to roust around tomorrow and get back to shoveling. I am hoping to stretch the digging up to a half hour, though I won't promise that. Even today I may get nothing done, as was the case yesterday. My goals failed to be fulfilled. I hope to do more. As I hoped yesterday. As I hope tomorrow.
Did anyone else hear that Eduardo Saverin, co-founder of Facebook, had denounced his US citizenship? Oh, some people are jumping mad about it. To be honest I am not. If I was about to come into a ton of money like that I would be on the first boat off this shipwreck, or definitely considering it. How much has he already paid, and to what ends, what thanks? One must realize there are... problems with renouncing US citizenship. He may well learn that. Money can be a comfort, and great money can permit access, freedoms, possibilities. It can also become an anchor in an angry see of hungry people, greedy people and governments everywhere, and lots of mischief. Then again, isn't that why he is ending his US citizenship. Be angry all you want, I can't say I blame him, at all. His family left their home nation because of kidnapping threats, he is leaving this nation because of direct threats to his wealth (HIS WEALTH). Oh, and leave California even if you can't quite leave the US. Stop giving in to stupid, economically suicidal, politics and policies. Just quit feeding the machine that turns your money into mulch, and doubles down by printing more money reducing the worth of your wealth further and on top of it! He is not denouncing the US as a nation, he is denouncing the current US theft of his money. Yikes.
All good. Have a good day.
Monday, May 14, 2012
B.S. testing and analysis.
.
.
Oh, not b.s. as in bachelor of science, by the way.
Sitting here thinking about recent events, discussions, posts written, and life in general, I blushed about some of the things I have stated. Some of it because it was true and might ought to have not been expressed, or at least in the way it was communicated. Sometimes because I question the, urhm, absolute validity of the material as expressed. Oh, you... didn't notice? Hushemup.
Now, I know, I am not the only man on the planet who does any of that, and more as that just covers some of the bragging, stretching, and even outright fabrication that can go on. My deal is that I express things more often than most guys. I talk and write a goodly deal. So, that nature of man ends up being... rather well covered here. I don't mind. Put two hunters or fishermen in the same room for a bit, if you want to ramp it up add in a six pack of beer and... you will hear some amazing stories. Some of what was hunted or caught, if... not officially recorded. And some of what got away or was released or allowed to live out of the goodness of a man's heart. *grins*
First thing, while the story telling can end up with a heaping helping of b.s., it usually isn't based on whole cloth. True, a fisherman probably never caught a 30 pound German Brown, or took an 18 point buck. It could be, but it might just be a stretch. The thing is the man probably did catch a large fish or hunted a rather goodly sized buck. There usually is something to the smoke, sometimes even the truth.
Another issue is that, while a man might have done those things exactly or thereabouts, it doesn't mean he would necessarily run right out and do those things again. If he said he fought four guys and won, and even if he did, it doesn't mean he wants to go out and relive the "glory". At the time he was simply trying to survive, literally if what he is saying is true. That part... doesn't always make the editor's cut. Same goes for dealing with women. The more women you have been involved with, should you try to come clean in life, the more difficult it is to deal with even one woman. It's easy to... revert to bad habits, regarding women.
The other thing I noticed is that, when people realize you are indeed what you are, they wonder why you don't act like you did. If he is such a womanizer, and catcher of women, why does he just... sit there? If he is such a fighter, why isn't he out looking for trouble. I covered the why, this is more about social expectation. Some guys live vicariously off the backs of wretches. I have been a wretch, of sorts, if just as often accidentally or incidentally. I don't wish to continue being so. I will say this though, if you see me in such a situation, you probably will realize that my stories aren't all stretch and no truth. You might even realize that my stretching is rather light, when it does occur. Still, that isn't to say I don't say things in a rude or direct way. And I might stretch a tad on this or that. But mostly, if I stretch, it is to make it look like what I did I absolutely meant to do and had no fear while doing it, or such.
On another subject, reading a blog about alphas, I noticed that the "code of alpha" was to remain calm. To back things off or up if the wrong tone is presented. Now, while I seemingly do that, and very well, on the inside? No, I might be shaking in my boots, I just don't (apparently) seem to show it. That does keep things in my court. Despite, in truth, often having no idea what something "being in my court" means or how to use it. I just muddle through. I can buy time with a stone cold face, that doesn't mean I know what to do. Which does make me question whether I am alpha or just a look-alike through trial and error, or even, like wise men who are said to be wise merely by not saying anything... I just get a rap for an absence of presence?
I realize that my size is part of why I try not to express feelings visually. When someone my size even scrunches his face a bit... I've seen women cry at a slight facial expression of disapproval. *grins* I sort of have to be careful. Oh, when I am truly angry, people duck. Unless they were intending to fight anyway, though a good grimace has changed minds. I wonder how much size has to deal with the perception of being alpha? I am enough outside of the normal size to be considered different, size wise. Not just big, but huge, really. If not quite, or just barely depending on your thoughts, a giant.
So, there you go. I have no idea if any of it is true, but that's my take. More questions than answers, but that is what I do.
The aspirin has helped a great deal. I don't hurt nearly as much, if stiffness remains. A bit more goofing then on to a bit of work. Laundry, cleaning the toilets, and setting up the extra bed is all I have planned. If I can do more I will. Maybe being awake yesterday might help me get back to a day schedule. I will try to get to bed earlier, too, if at all possible. Supper arrived today and took me a bit by surprise. I, somehow, was thinking it was still Sunday and I had just gotten supper. Working during a normal sleep schedule really makes things fuzzy sometimes. Too funny. Later.
.
Oh, not b.s. as in bachelor of science, by the way.
Sitting here thinking about recent events, discussions, posts written, and life in general, I blushed about some of the things I have stated. Some of it because it was true and might ought to have not been expressed, or at least in the way it was communicated. Sometimes because I question the, urhm, absolute validity of the material as expressed. Oh, you... didn't notice? Hushemup.
Now, I know, I am not the only man on the planet who does any of that, and more as that just covers some of the bragging, stretching, and even outright fabrication that can go on. My deal is that I express things more often than most guys. I talk and write a goodly deal. So, that nature of man ends up being... rather well covered here. I don't mind. Put two hunters or fishermen in the same room for a bit, if you want to ramp it up add in a six pack of beer and... you will hear some amazing stories. Some of what was hunted or caught, if... not officially recorded. And some of what got away or was released or allowed to live out of the goodness of a man's heart. *grins*
First thing, while the story telling can end up with a heaping helping of b.s., it usually isn't based on whole cloth. True, a fisherman probably never caught a 30 pound German Brown, or took an 18 point buck. It could be, but it might just be a stretch. The thing is the man probably did catch a large fish or hunted a rather goodly sized buck. There usually is something to the smoke, sometimes even the truth.
Another issue is that, while a man might have done those things exactly or thereabouts, it doesn't mean he would necessarily run right out and do those things again. If he said he fought four guys and won, and even if he did, it doesn't mean he wants to go out and relive the "glory". At the time he was simply trying to survive, literally if what he is saying is true. That part... doesn't always make the editor's cut. Same goes for dealing with women. The more women you have been involved with, should you try to come clean in life, the more difficult it is to deal with even one woman. It's easy to... revert to bad habits, regarding women.
The other thing I noticed is that, when people realize you are indeed what you are, they wonder why you don't act like you did. If he is such a womanizer, and catcher of women, why does he just... sit there? If he is such a fighter, why isn't he out looking for trouble. I covered the why, this is more about social expectation. Some guys live vicariously off the backs of wretches. I have been a wretch, of sorts, if just as often accidentally or incidentally. I don't wish to continue being so. I will say this though, if you see me in such a situation, you probably will realize that my stories aren't all stretch and no truth. You might even realize that my stretching is rather light, when it does occur. Still, that isn't to say I don't say things in a rude or direct way. And I might stretch a tad on this or that. But mostly, if I stretch, it is to make it look like what I did I absolutely meant to do and had no fear while doing it, or such.
On another subject, reading a blog about alphas, I noticed that the "code of alpha" was to remain calm. To back things off or up if the wrong tone is presented. Now, while I seemingly do that, and very well, on the inside? No, I might be shaking in my boots, I just don't (apparently) seem to show it. That does keep things in my court. Despite, in truth, often having no idea what something "being in my court" means or how to use it. I just muddle through. I can buy time with a stone cold face, that doesn't mean I know what to do. Which does make me question whether I am alpha or just a look-alike through trial and error, or even, like wise men who are said to be wise merely by not saying anything... I just get a rap for an absence of presence?
I realize that my size is part of why I try not to express feelings visually. When someone my size even scrunches his face a bit... I've seen women cry at a slight facial expression of disapproval. *grins* I sort of have to be careful. Oh, when I am truly angry, people duck. Unless they were intending to fight anyway, though a good grimace has changed minds. I wonder how much size has to deal with the perception of being alpha? I am enough outside of the normal size to be considered different, size wise. Not just big, but huge, really. If not quite, or just barely depending on your thoughts, a giant.
So, there you go. I have no idea if any of it is true, but that's my take. More questions than answers, but that is what I do.
The aspirin has helped a great deal. I don't hurt nearly as much, if stiffness remains. A bit more goofing then on to a bit of work. Laundry, cleaning the toilets, and setting up the extra bed is all I have planned. If I can do more I will. Maybe being awake yesterday might help me get back to a day schedule. I will try to get to bed earlier, too, if at all possible. Supper arrived today and took me a bit by surprise. I, somehow, was thinking it was still Sunday and I had just gotten supper. Working during a normal sleep schedule really makes things fuzzy sometimes. Too funny. Later.
Nice "nap"!
.
.
Then again, there wasn't really a choice. After I woke a bit more I realized that I truly did hurt. The back, from standing, wasn't too bad, by itself. The legs, from picking and shoveling, weren't horrible. And my arms weren't too bad, from the jarring. But toss in that I worked well out of my usual time to be awake, the aches and pains, and maybe just a bit of "just because" and I went down like a sack of potatoes. I'm not sure when I finally went back to bed, I did resist (probably took a penalty for resisting too). It just hit 18:00 and I am just getting up. Another dose of Anacin, my meds, a bit of food in my face, and... I'll just have to see about today. I won't do any pick work but I might be able to get some other things in. Finishing off the laundry would be a good mostly off my feet job. Perhaps organizing the last of my move out of my main bedroom, getting the other bed set up. Yes, mother, I know that was already... I know I told you before... Well, it isn't done.
My hope is, come shine or rain, regardless of how much sleep I get, and despite this, that, and the other thing, is to do a bit of work every single day save Sunday. I will take Sunday off, if at all possible, if I can get on a roll. I don't care what work I do as long as I get an half hour in at least. If I can do more, great. If I can get to the heavier stuff, even better. Though, as I said, the little stuff is probably more difficult. Sorting, storing, deciding on inane little things. Much of modern life has allowed even bachelors to have sewing kits, requires much paperwork for even someone who isn't required to file taxes, and such. And, I am not the best at dealing with where all that is supposed to go. If I put it up the chances of finding it again is slim. (Chances, when discussing one set of them... I have always used "is", not "are", right?) Anyway.
Oh, I could finally clean the toilets too. No dishes. Even with the painkillers I just don't want to test that. I still am not sure how much I can push, how much of what I am is sloth, whether I truly am lazy or sick. I may never know. But as summer approaches I know that I can, seemingly, do more. I become less lazy, or more able. While, true, it isn't quite here yet, I find myself in a position to prep for it. Who knows what I can get done this year, even without my mother here to... help guide. I am hoping to have some improvements done, have things a bit better for her if possible cleaning wise, sort of to impress her. As well, so she will feel more at ease taking a break and going on a mini-vacation while she is here. If there is work to be done she doesn't feel like vacationing. It bugs her mind.
So... I need to figure out jobs for low days and jobs for high days. I need to sort both types of jobs into some kind of schedule. I probably shouldn't shovel every day, quite yet anyway, if I might try to increase my time at shoveling to an half hour. One of my jobs is going to require some serious standing time, too... getting the wallpaper off the wall. Five to seven layers of it off concrete will take some doing. As for the drywall? That may just need to be replaced. I am not sure if that is a starter job, though. However, if I can show my mother that I am truly working on getting the paper off she might be able to stick with just helping me keep on target with redoing the kitchen floor this year. Negotiate, friends... Give a little, ask a little, prove your point, walk the walk, as you are able.
Youch... I keep stretching to try and get things... back into kilter. I know I am not the only one who does this. Like when you have a sore tooth and you keep checking it with your tongue. Just to make sure? I dunno, but it seems to be a common human thing. Every half hour or so I twist my back, just to check, then mess with my legs. Yep, still sore! Heh. It probably helps, at least the stretching part. The tooth thing? I think we just think we deserve to hurt or something. Masochists! :p
Good day.
.
Then again, there wasn't really a choice. After I woke a bit more I realized that I truly did hurt. The back, from standing, wasn't too bad, by itself. The legs, from picking and shoveling, weren't horrible. And my arms weren't too bad, from the jarring. But toss in that I worked well out of my usual time to be awake, the aches and pains, and maybe just a bit of "just because" and I went down like a sack of potatoes. I'm not sure when I finally went back to bed, I did resist (probably took a penalty for resisting too). It just hit 18:00 and I am just getting up. Another dose of Anacin, my meds, a bit of food in my face, and... I'll just have to see about today. I won't do any pick work but I might be able to get some other things in. Finishing off the laundry would be a good mostly off my feet job. Perhaps organizing the last of my move out of my main bedroom, getting the other bed set up. Yes, mother, I know that was already... I know I told you before... Well, it isn't done.
My hope is, come shine or rain, regardless of how much sleep I get, and despite this, that, and the other thing, is to do a bit of work every single day save Sunday. I will take Sunday off, if at all possible, if I can get on a roll. I don't care what work I do as long as I get an half hour in at least. If I can do more, great. If I can get to the heavier stuff, even better. Though, as I said, the little stuff is probably more difficult. Sorting, storing, deciding on inane little things. Much of modern life has allowed even bachelors to have sewing kits, requires much paperwork for even someone who isn't required to file taxes, and such. And, I am not the best at dealing with where all that is supposed to go. If I put it up the chances of finding it again is slim. (Chances, when discussing one set of them... I have always used "is", not "are", right?) Anyway.
Oh, I could finally clean the toilets too. No dishes. Even with the painkillers I just don't want to test that. I still am not sure how much I can push, how much of what I am is sloth, whether I truly am lazy or sick. I may never know. But as summer approaches I know that I can, seemingly, do more. I become less lazy, or more able. While, true, it isn't quite here yet, I find myself in a position to prep for it. Who knows what I can get done this year, even without my mother here to... help guide. I am hoping to have some improvements done, have things a bit better for her if possible cleaning wise, sort of to impress her. As well, so she will feel more at ease taking a break and going on a mini-vacation while she is here. If there is work to be done she doesn't feel like vacationing. It bugs her mind.
So... I need to figure out jobs for low days and jobs for high days. I need to sort both types of jobs into some kind of schedule. I probably shouldn't shovel every day, quite yet anyway, if I might try to increase my time at shoveling to an half hour. One of my jobs is going to require some serious standing time, too... getting the wallpaper off the wall. Five to seven layers of it off concrete will take some doing. As for the drywall? That may just need to be replaced. I am not sure if that is a starter job, though. However, if I can show my mother that I am truly working on getting the paper off she might be able to stick with just helping me keep on target with redoing the kitchen floor this year. Negotiate, friends... Give a little, ask a little, prove your point, walk the walk, as you are able.
Youch... I keep stretching to try and get things... back into kilter. I know I am not the only one who does this. Like when you have a sore tooth and you keep checking it with your tongue. Just to make sure? I dunno, but it seems to be a common human thing. Every half hour or so I twist my back, just to check, then mess with my legs. Yep, still sore! Heh. It probably helps, at least the stretching part. The tooth thing? I think we just think we deserve to hurt or something. Masochists! :p
Good day.
Do I exaggerate, get it wrong?
.
.
Of course! Oh, I definitely dip a bit into the world of fancy. I do so for many reasons, including a belief that I am somewhat read locally, and from certain sectors, and sometimes just because until I have a topic down I may well flirt with a number of different or even opposing lines of thought. I misdirect, use metaphor, analogy, parable, and other tools. My goal is to work out my ideas here, but in such a way sometimes that no one has any idea who, what, or where. I have noticed even that doesn't always work or what I did makes someone I wasn't discussing think they are who I was discussing. Yes, I can read you. Most people wear their hearts on their sleeves far more than they might think. There are a few I can't see into, not many. With them I listen to verbal cues. What I can't see or hear is darned good at cover, not foolproof though. You, yes you, I probably know if you read here or have heard about what I wrote.
As for being a delicate flower? Not so much. You could tell me I am an idiot. I would agree for my own part if we might part ways on what you think I did that was foolish. You might even declare that I should be shot, to my face. Really, so long as you didn't try to carry it out, I would merely try to get to the bottom of the problem. I might even agree with you, though I would hope to negotiate a lighter sentence. You really aren't going to hurt me, emotionally. It's not even that I am a stone, though I am probably closer to that from being tried than most. I am quite stable. I simply let my thoughts roam, I have guilt about some things rightly or wrongly (if I do try to change or seek forgiveness and guidance on some issues). I use anonymous others to beat up on me in some ways at some times, too. That offers perspective, or allows me to figure things out, or even gives me an opposing force through which to create a defense or defenses. Much like playing chess alone is one method of learning the game and one's own difficulties, weaknesses, and strengths.
Along with all that, add a good dose of humor. Even my darkest pieces, some of them, if you look not at the darkness but what is not dark in the posts, you might get a nose bleed from laughing. For a physical example, take a black and white picture and reverse the coloration. While that isn't necessarily funny, with ideas it can be. If you have a certain sense of humor. Actually, many of my posts, including some where I am frustrated or confused, are written with the lightest of hearts. While I can be moody. Not treacherously so, just... I have moods and can express things through the lens of my moods in an exaggerated fashion. I can also be artistic, theoretical, cynical, and the rest. Just don't take what I write as my absolute final answer, or necessarily too seriously if I will sometimes write that way too.
Mostly, on topics unrelated to efforts or mundane life, I write with a direct intent. That doesn't mean I believe everything there, specifically. More generally I do believe, or at the moment, what I am writing. You should walk away with a general idea or three. I try to include some caveats, doubts, concerns about my take on things but sometimes there are none. No, I don't believe everyone in this valley who has met me would see me hung, drawn and quartered, then beheaded at one time. I don't believe anyone would actually, probably, do that currently if it were in their power, mostly. I only mean that I have a serious way of pissing off even kindly old men and women, so the younger lots can stew much more profoundly. I do have a way with that, if it isn't necessarily something I mean to do. I do, however, think that I fall below contempt for a number of people in a number of ways. That I do believe. Rightly or wrongly. The ones who have a point, if it is in my power, I am trying to change that outlook (if for me more than them). The ones who simply don't understand where I am at and what I am, I pray that they find their way to understanding.
It's still a bit funny, but if I were falling off a cliff... I would take just a bit of time to chuckle at the thing, if I had the time. How did I get here? Ah, okay. Heh... Zounds this is going to hurt.
.
Of course! Oh, I definitely dip a bit into the world of fancy. I do so for many reasons, including a belief that I am somewhat read locally, and from certain sectors, and sometimes just because until I have a topic down I may well flirt with a number of different or even opposing lines of thought. I misdirect, use metaphor, analogy, parable, and other tools. My goal is to work out my ideas here, but in such a way sometimes that no one has any idea who, what, or where. I have noticed even that doesn't always work or what I did makes someone I wasn't discussing think they are who I was discussing. Yes, I can read you. Most people wear their hearts on their sleeves far more than they might think. There are a few I can't see into, not many. With them I listen to verbal cues. What I can't see or hear is darned good at cover, not foolproof though. You, yes you, I probably know if you read here or have heard about what I wrote.
As for being a delicate flower? Not so much. You could tell me I am an idiot. I would agree for my own part if we might part ways on what you think I did that was foolish. You might even declare that I should be shot, to my face. Really, so long as you didn't try to carry it out, I would merely try to get to the bottom of the problem. I might even agree with you, though I would hope to negotiate a lighter sentence. You really aren't going to hurt me, emotionally. It's not even that I am a stone, though I am probably closer to that from being tried than most. I am quite stable. I simply let my thoughts roam, I have guilt about some things rightly or wrongly (if I do try to change or seek forgiveness and guidance on some issues). I use anonymous others to beat up on me in some ways at some times, too. That offers perspective, or allows me to figure things out, or even gives me an opposing force through which to create a defense or defenses. Much like playing chess alone is one method of learning the game and one's own difficulties, weaknesses, and strengths.
Along with all that, add a good dose of humor. Even my darkest pieces, some of them, if you look not at the darkness but what is not dark in the posts, you might get a nose bleed from laughing. For a physical example, take a black and white picture and reverse the coloration. While that isn't necessarily funny, with ideas it can be. If you have a certain sense of humor. Actually, many of my posts, including some where I am frustrated or confused, are written with the lightest of hearts. While I can be moody. Not treacherously so, just... I have moods and can express things through the lens of my moods in an exaggerated fashion. I can also be artistic, theoretical, cynical, and the rest. Just don't take what I write as my absolute final answer, or necessarily too seriously if I will sometimes write that way too.
Mostly, on topics unrelated to efforts or mundane life, I write with a direct intent. That doesn't mean I believe everything there, specifically. More generally I do believe, or at the moment, what I am writing. You should walk away with a general idea or three. I try to include some caveats, doubts, concerns about my take on things but sometimes there are none. No, I don't believe everyone in this valley who has met me would see me hung, drawn and quartered, then beheaded at one time. I don't believe anyone would actually, probably, do that currently if it were in their power, mostly. I only mean that I have a serious way of pissing off even kindly old men and women, so the younger lots can stew much more profoundly. I do have a way with that, if it isn't necessarily something I mean to do. I do, however, think that I fall below contempt for a number of people in a number of ways. That I do believe. Rightly or wrongly. The ones who have a point, if it is in my power, I am trying to change that outlook (if for me more than them). The ones who simply don't understand where I am at and what I am, I pray that they find their way to understanding.
It's still a bit funny, but if I were falling off a cliff... I would take just a bit of time to chuckle at the thing, if I had the time. How did I get here? Ah, okay. Heh... Zounds this is going to hurt.
Sleep was GREAT!
.
.
I think. I have no idea what really happened. I went in and laid down. My neighbors brought over dinner, calling first. I woke and got the call. They call first, usually. Then I had dinner. I don't remember much of any of it. Something something about something, then... here I sit. I don't remember dressing, undressing, redressing to answer the door... I don't remember eating so much, just that I did, or going back to bed. And sleep? I feel rested, I feel a bit less sore and stiff, and my brain is again working. Other than that... it's a blank slate. I actually really enjoy that notion. No, it wasn't hard work, none of what I have done in the last three days. Add it up and it, for my condition, was epic. I have only slept like that back in a time when the Navy had me working myself to the bone. I loved it then, too. I was born to push that edge, and raised right. Sleep like that simply doesn't come from a pill box, it is earned.
I still hope, tomorrow, to get out and get to it. The neighbor boy who was primarily helping? He... lost the front tire of his bike, went over the handlebars or summit, roadrashed one side of his face and fractured the other side too, somehow. Yeah, he is in recovery mode. Add him to your prayer list if you would be so kind, he's on mine. So the digging is all mine. And I have claimed the bedroom and on suite tasks. So... I really need to get to work. I really hope to continue the work. There is a chance of it too. As the weather warms and perhaps as I come into warmer weather mode I will be able to do keep up some moderate work load each day. Just a half hour there, an hour here, and such, will see these things to completion before I know it.
One thing though, if I am going to be trying to work more with the KoC and others, being on my feet long, I need to find better dress shoes. For me that is the weakest link. While I eschewed Florsheims and the like decades ago, there has to be something out there that would fit and are comfortable and supportive. I have gone with decent Oxfords for now. While not as jarring, and certainly not as biting into my ankles, they are not good for all day. I have never been good at being on my feet all day. My knees are a weak link too. Too tall, or a feature of some tall people I believe. My lower back always feels like I just fought a guy who excels at kidney punches. Well, you have to remember, when I fought, I never fought with rules. I still laugh when I remember someone saying, "and he cheated". Non-fighters simply don't understand, or think rules for boxing or wrestling mean anything on the street. I might start my search for all day dress shoes anew. Damn the price and torpedoes!
I'll see how stiff I am tomorrow. I'm feeling okay right now, sitting. I might get a bit more sleep in later, too. Sleep does me a ton of good that way. I sure am excited about the last few days though. There's life in the old boy yet! If I can keep that going, coral some of the energy coming in and turn it into work, I can really get some things done, add to my fitness level, and even turn that into some play time before long. Everything I do seems to have to be created from whole cloth. It would be good to get to some modicum of health from which to spring into new demands. This may be another false promise, empty hope, but it's what I have. It's as much as I have had in a long time. If I compare it to my life in Iowa, my last decade or more? I am doing a lot more. I remember for long stages of years where the best I did, sum total, was get out of bed. And my supreme function was to get out of bed at a regular hour for weeks or months. There was engineering school. The thinking wasn't a problem if I didn't nose dive into sleep. The hard part was being up and at school everyday, but not because of the physical work. When I had a woman, she actually would eventually help regulate my internal clock, working until I pushed too hard, then having to recover before getting back to some regularity. Just... thinking, remembering.
Hmm, to some reading. Have a good night, morning, or such.
.
I think. I have no idea what really happened. I went in and laid down. My neighbors brought over dinner, calling first. I woke and got the call. They call first, usually. Then I had dinner. I don't remember much of any of it. Something something about something, then... here I sit. I don't remember dressing, undressing, redressing to answer the door... I don't remember eating so much, just that I did, or going back to bed. And sleep? I feel rested, I feel a bit less sore and stiff, and my brain is again working. Other than that... it's a blank slate. I actually really enjoy that notion. No, it wasn't hard work, none of what I have done in the last three days. Add it up and it, for my condition, was epic. I have only slept like that back in a time when the Navy had me working myself to the bone. I loved it then, too. I was born to push that edge, and raised right. Sleep like that simply doesn't come from a pill box, it is earned.
I still hope, tomorrow, to get out and get to it. The neighbor boy who was primarily helping? He... lost the front tire of his bike, went over the handlebars or summit, roadrashed one side of his face and fractured the other side too, somehow. Yeah, he is in recovery mode. Add him to your prayer list if you would be so kind, he's on mine. So the digging is all mine. And I have claimed the bedroom and on suite tasks. So... I really need to get to work. I really hope to continue the work. There is a chance of it too. As the weather warms and perhaps as I come into warmer weather mode I will be able to do keep up some moderate work load each day. Just a half hour there, an hour here, and such, will see these things to completion before I know it.
One thing though, if I am going to be trying to work more with the KoC and others, being on my feet long, I need to find better dress shoes. For me that is the weakest link. While I eschewed Florsheims and the like decades ago, there has to be something out there that would fit and are comfortable and supportive. I have gone with decent Oxfords for now. While not as jarring, and certainly not as biting into my ankles, they are not good for all day. I have never been good at being on my feet all day. My knees are a weak link too. Too tall, or a feature of some tall people I believe. My lower back always feels like I just fought a guy who excels at kidney punches. Well, you have to remember, when I fought, I never fought with rules. I still laugh when I remember someone saying, "and he cheated". Non-fighters simply don't understand, or think rules for boxing or wrestling mean anything on the street. I might start my search for all day dress shoes anew. Damn the price and torpedoes!
I'll see how stiff I am tomorrow. I'm feeling okay right now, sitting. I might get a bit more sleep in later, too. Sleep does me a ton of good that way. I sure am excited about the last few days though. There's life in the old boy yet! If I can keep that going, coral some of the energy coming in and turn it into work, I can really get some things done, add to my fitness level, and even turn that into some play time before long. Everything I do seems to have to be created from whole cloth. It would be good to get to some modicum of health from which to spring into new demands. This may be another false promise, empty hope, but it's what I have. It's as much as I have had in a long time. If I compare it to my life in Iowa, my last decade or more? I am doing a lot more. I remember for long stages of years where the best I did, sum total, was get out of bed. And my supreme function was to get out of bed at a regular hour for weeks or months. There was engineering school. The thinking wasn't a problem if I didn't nose dive into sleep. The hard part was being up and at school everyday, but not because of the physical work. When I had a woman, she actually would eventually help regulate my internal clock, working until I pushed too hard, then having to recover before getting back to some regularity. Just... thinking, remembering.
Hmm, to some reading. Have a good night, morning, or such.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
That went well.
.
.
I showed up perhaps a bit before 9:00. The guys cooking were already at it but there were seemingly a dozen or so in the small kitchen. Looking around I noticed that tables and chairs were being arranged, so I just jumped in like I knew what I was doing. There were two of us. Another fellow came along shortly who had a better plan and so we did that. The rest of the time I was there was just trying to actually be doing something, avoiding others who were doing something, and taking work orders when those arrived, until the meal began. Then I was, for the most part, just a server, ham cutter, and such. After, I had a bite to eat, then helped with a bit of cleanup, and processed then chopped four heads of garlic. The next group would be arriving soon but there was little I could do. It wasn't my legs, arms, or even being tired, it was my back. That is the longest I have been on my feet in... No, I mean... I have no idea? Since the Navy? Close to it. I let a few of them know I was going, then I headed out. I was a little disappointed that I wasn't going to ride the thing to the end. I really had hoped to do that. In truth, I ended up staying longer than I thought might be the case. I did what I could.
I am hoping, as these things come up, that I can become more a part of them. I enjoyed doing it. I don't mind a little or lot of work. I will do what I can for as long as I can. Just so long as it is understood that when I have to go it isn't really a choice. It is nice to see the guys, and serving the public means meeting women. On the service side, it simply is good to get out and do something that ends up meaning something. Who knows, maybe I can learn to handle a bit more.
You know, actually, that is three days in a row where I have gotten some serious (for me) work in. I am not planning on anything tomorrow. Not because I will do nothing, simply that usually by the third day, when I hit the accelerator I about get my ankle broke from the kickback of a dead horse, somehow. Take that analogy and smoke it! But, if I can keep this run going, I will get to work. Today? No. I will try to stay awake as late into the afternoon as possible. Mostly I am going to just tinker, read, whatever. My goal is 17:00, but if I can somehow push it to 19:00 I will. I won't try to push it later, it doesn't work well.
Later or good... afternoon... in a good night sort of way.
.
I showed up perhaps a bit before 9:00. The guys cooking were already at it but there were seemingly a dozen or so in the small kitchen. Looking around I noticed that tables and chairs were being arranged, so I just jumped in like I knew what I was doing. There were two of us. Another fellow came along shortly who had a better plan and so we did that. The rest of the time I was there was just trying to actually be doing something, avoiding others who were doing something, and taking work orders when those arrived, until the meal began. Then I was, for the most part, just a server, ham cutter, and such. After, I had a bite to eat, then helped with a bit of cleanup, and processed then chopped four heads of garlic. The next group would be arriving soon but there was little I could do. It wasn't my legs, arms, or even being tired, it was my back. That is the longest I have been on my feet in... No, I mean... I have no idea? Since the Navy? Close to it. I let a few of them know I was going, then I headed out. I was a little disappointed that I wasn't going to ride the thing to the end. I really had hoped to do that. In truth, I ended up staying longer than I thought might be the case. I did what I could.
I am hoping, as these things come up, that I can become more a part of them. I enjoyed doing it. I don't mind a little or lot of work. I will do what I can for as long as I can. Just so long as it is understood that when I have to go it isn't really a choice. It is nice to see the guys, and serving the public means meeting women. On the service side, it simply is good to get out and do something that ends up meaning something. Who knows, maybe I can learn to handle a bit more.
You know, actually, that is three days in a row where I have gotten some serious (for me) work in. I am not planning on anything tomorrow. Not because I will do nothing, simply that usually by the third day, when I hit the accelerator I about get my ankle broke from the kickback of a dead horse, somehow. Take that analogy and smoke it! But, if I can keep this run going, I will get to work. Today? No. I will try to stay awake as late into the afternoon as possible. Mostly I am going to just tinker, read, whatever. My goal is 17:00, but if I can somehow push it to 19:00 I will. I won't try to push it later, it doesn't work well.
Later or good... afternoon... in a good night sort of way.
Happy Mother's Day.
.
.
Mary, on this day when we honor all mothers, we turn to you. We thank the Lord whom you serve for the great gift of motherhood. Never has it been known that anyone who sought your intercession was left unaided by grace. Dear Mother, thank you for your “Yes” to the invitation of the angel which brought heaven to earth and changed human history. You opened yourself to God’s word and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.
Dear mother, intercede for all of our mothers. Ask your Divine Son to give them the grace of surrendered love so that they could join with you in giving their own “Fiat.” May they find daily grace to say yes to the call to the sacrificial love- the very heart of the vocation of motherhood. May their love and witness be a source of great inspiration for all of us called to follow your Son.
On this Mothers day, Mother of the Word Incarnate, pray for us who have recourse to you…
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
(right properly stolen from Catholic Online)
And on a personal note, thanks for putting up with all my rugrattery. I was a fine rugrat as far as finding out what annoyed you and doing it au naturel. Nothing personal, I just... well... I had to find out just... what happened if I... You know the rest, what you can remember. Thanks for the good eats, teaching me to wash behind my ears and such, trying to show me right and wrong, and the rest. I do appreciate it if I might not always seem to show it. I love you.
.
Mary, on this day when we honor all mothers, we turn to you. We thank the Lord whom you serve for the great gift of motherhood. Never has it been known that anyone who sought your intercession was left unaided by grace. Dear Mother, thank you for your “Yes” to the invitation of the angel which brought heaven to earth and changed human history. You opened yourself to God’s word and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.
Dear mother, intercede for all of our mothers. Ask your Divine Son to give them the grace of surrendered love so that they could join with you in giving their own “Fiat.” May they find daily grace to say yes to the call to the sacrificial love- the very heart of the vocation of motherhood. May their love and witness be a source of great inspiration for all of us called to follow your Son.
On this Mothers day, Mother of the Word Incarnate, pray for us who have recourse to you…
In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
(right properly stolen from Catholic Online)
And on a personal note, thanks for putting up with all my rugrattery. I was a fine rugrat as far as finding out what annoyed you and doing it au naturel. Nothing personal, I just... well... I had to find out just... what happened if I... You know the rest, what you can remember. Thanks for the good eats, teaching me to wash behind my ears and such, trying to show me right and wrong, and the rest. I do appreciate it if I might not always seem to show it. I love you.
Tingling feeling?
.
.
Well, yes. But not in the Mathews-Zero way. I slept well! I went to bed a bit past... midnight (or something, I just cannot recall exactly). I set an alarm for 5:00 and one for 6:00. Setting them each an hour later just didn't seem like it would work, assuming (at that point) that I could even sleep. I laid down, said a relatively short prayer, and then even 'thought' to God as the hammer was coming down. Then I just rested a second and... *Bzzzz!* I woke with the memory of three dreams. As I hastened to shut off that first alarm, then use the facilities then hie back to bed, since I didn't peg the dream memories into concrete thought, they got lost. Sometimes I can't hold onto them no matter what I do, other times if I think about them a bit first then I can keep all or most of them. An hour later, of course, the second alarm went off. Not yet! My mind whimpered. Fine. I set the alarm back an half hour since an hour would be too much and the snooze absolutely SUCKS. Five minutes? I'm an addict, don't tease. In there somewhere, something came to me.
I wrote, before, that I had made almost anyone in the valley who knows me well enough, atheist, agnostic, Catholic, LDS, and women (who have their own religion I think? :p) angry enough to consider ending my wretched life. I wrote that there was a bit of respect that kept them from doing so. I got the feeling that that wasn't true. It was simply something between not wanting to go to jail and letting me suffer. Heh. Oh, I don't mind. I just... thought it was funny. I wanted to correct my mistake. Just a feeling but it is there. Why I would wake to that thought I don't know. Someone(s) must be thinking of me. I can hear you NOW. *chuckles*
I am well pleased that I won't have to suffer through this day of mild effort as much as I had thought. The sleep was short but wonderful. Having had no sleep was going to be the hard part, not the work or such. I can't say I deserve the sleep, like the blisters. I can only say that God seems to bless those, at times, who attempt to do what He has set before them. Sometimes there is nothing to do but suffer. And I would have done that too, gladly really. Not this time. And while I would have suffered, it is good, some days, to get that particular cross lifted from my shoulders, pathetically small as that cross is in the scheme of things. Now the upper back of my legs are stiff as boards, but, oddly, don't actually hurt (yet?). No other pains persist from picking and shoveling and the rest. A few Anacin and I should be right as rain in case pain arrives as my brain fires up. Medicine went down the hatch too, that's... four days on that. If I think I have time I might check my bp.
I need to polish my shoes, shower, and dress, then drive to Church. Technically I have an hour and a half. Ugh but time flies. An half hour already gone and that was just... feeding the cats, writing this blog, letting Sam out for a bit, and... what else? Never mind. I better set the timer for an half hour so I am aware of things. Just to feel out where I am and such. I am totally blind when it comes to time. I want to be heading out between 8:00 and 8:30, I just... I do have real things to do and only one speed currently.
Good day.
.
Well, yes. But not in the Mathews-Zero way. I slept well! I went to bed a bit past... midnight (or something, I just cannot recall exactly). I set an alarm for 5:00 and one for 6:00. Setting them each an hour later just didn't seem like it would work, assuming (at that point) that I could even sleep. I laid down, said a relatively short prayer, and then even 'thought' to God as the hammer was coming down. Then I just rested a second and... *Bzzzz!* I woke with the memory of three dreams. As I hastened to shut off that first alarm, then use the facilities then hie back to bed, since I didn't peg the dream memories into concrete thought, they got lost. Sometimes I can't hold onto them no matter what I do, other times if I think about them a bit first then I can keep all or most of them. An hour later, of course, the second alarm went off. Not yet! My mind whimpered. Fine. I set the alarm back an half hour since an hour would be too much and the snooze absolutely SUCKS. Five minutes? I'm an addict, don't tease. In there somewhere, something came to me.
I wrote, before, that I had made almost anyone in the valley who knows me well enough, atheist, agnostic, Catholic, LDS, and women (who have their own religion I think? :p) angry enough to consider ending my wretched life. I wrote that there was a bit of respect that kept them from doing so. I got the feeling that that wasn't true. It was simply something between not wanting to go to jail and letting me suffer. Heh. Oh, I don't mind. I just... thought it was funny. I wanted to correct my mistake. Just a feeling but it is there. Why I would wake to that thought I don't know. Someone(s) must be thinking of me. I can hear you NOW. *chuckles*
I am well pleased that I won't have to suffer through this day of mild effort as much as I had thought. The sleep was short but wonderful. Having had no sleep was going to be the hard part, not the work or such. I can't say I deserve the sleep, like the blisters. I can only say that God seems to bless those, at times, who attempt to do what He has set before them. Sometimes there is nothing to do but suffer. And I would have done that too, gladly really. Not this time. And while I would have suffered, it is good, some days, to get that particular cross lifted from my shoulders, pathetically small as that cross is in the scheme of things. Now the upper back of my legs are stiff as boards, but, oddly, don't actually hurt (yet?). No other pains persist from picking and shoveling and the rest. A few Anacin and I should be right as rain in case pain arrives as my brain fires up. Medicine went down the hatch too, that's... four days on that. If I think I have time I might check my bp.
I need to polish my shoes, shower, and dress, then drive to Church. Technically I have an hour and a half. Ugh but time flies. An half hour already gone and that was just... feeding the cats, writing this blog, letting Sam out for a bit, and... what else? Never mind. I better set the timer for an half hour so I am aware of things. Just to feel out where I am and such. I am totally blind when it comes to time. I want to be heading out between 8:00 and 8:30, I just... I do have real things to do and only one speed currently.
Good day.
Some days...
.
.
If I could have even three days a week like this I would be quite pleased. If I could have two pair of days like the last two days I would be ecstatic. I have the last load to dry doing so. I've finished off most of the dishes, two of the pots, and am soaking most of the rest, plus I washed the stove top. For a treat I made a pan of fried gizzards. I may do a bit more before I sleep. Polishing my shoes would be good. Cleaning the toilets would be good. Perhaps doing another load of dishes too. I did skip the nap but it might be time to try that, actually. With two alarm clocks and my mother calling there is a decent chance something would get through if I happened to be able to stay down and sleep longer than I expect.
I noticed blisters on my hands. Oh, I don't mind. Actually I like blisters. They mean work has been done. My only problem with them is that I don't feel like I truly deserve them, I don't think I worked all that hard. I have grown soft. If I keep it up I might get calluses back. Calluses are great when you have to do something by hand and you simply don't have gloves available.
I am rather at ease too. My mind and body are going along pretty well. I have gotten back to praying and started my medicines. I am focusing a part of my prayers directly regarding a wife. No, I'm no closer than I ever was to finding a wife if I have a better idea of why I wasn't really working at that, and why I shied away from a couple of serious possibilities. I just wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. I'll keep my eyes open a bit more though. I'll try to take up leads when I find them, a lot more quickly. The truth is if I could meet ten women of the right configuration, so to speak, there is a chance that I would accept none of them. And, of course, even should I find one or two, the one(s) I choose might not accept me. I won't worry about that so much, at this point. Actually, I won't worry about that at all. I don't even care about that part. It's what comes after finding one that I accept who finds me acceptable that is the problem. Though, I have to admit, the chance of finding a wife with no women available is... rather slim. I don't think God uses the same trick twice... and I like my ribs just as they are. All that wrestling with God... and He only noticed because He wanted to notice. I don't even think I scraped off what we might call dead skin. :p
Yeah, a nap. I'll deal with whatever there is to deal with when I wake up, if I wake up in a timely fashion. The bits of work left to do would be a great way to come back to life, get the brain and body in sync. I am not worried about putting in effort at the brunch I am more worried about getting there. I can slog through most things if I can just get to them. The adrenaline from having so many apex predators around, even if we are connected, keeps me more on my toes. Though a pot of coffee first might be good, if possible.
Have a good night.
.
If I could have even three days a week like this I would be quite pleased. If I could have two pair of days like the last two days I would be ecstatic. I have the last load to dry doing so. I've finished off most of the dishes, two of the pots, and am soaking most of the rest, plus I washed the stove top. For a treat I made a pan of fried gizzards. I may do a bit more before I sleep. Polishing my shoes would be good. Cleaning the toilets would be good. Perhaps doing another load of dishes too. I did skip the nap but it might be time to try that, actually. With two alarm clocks and my mother calling there is a decent chance something would get through if I happened to be able to stay down and sleep longer than I expect.
I noticed blisters on my hands. Oh, I don't mind. Actually I like blisters. They mean work has been done. My only problem with them is that I don't feel like I truly deserve them, I don't think I worked all that hard. I have grown soft. If I keep it up I might get calluses back. Calluses are great when you have to do something by hand and you simply don't have gloves available.
I am rather at ease too. My mind and body are going along pretty well. I have gotten back to praying and started my medicines. I am focusing a part of my prayers directly regarding a wife. No, I'm no closer than I ever was to finding a wife if I have a better idea of why I wasn't really working at that, and why I shied away from a couple of serious possibilities. I just wasn't ready. I'm still not ready. I'll keep my eyes open a bit more though. I'll try to take up leads when I find them, a lot more quickly. The truth is if I could meet ten women of the right configuration, so to speak, there is a chance that I would accept none of them. And, of course, even should I find one or two, the one(s) I choose might not accept me. I won't worry about that so much, at this point. Actually, I won't worry about that at all. I don't even care about that part. It's what comes after finding one that I accept who finds me acceptable that is the problem. Though, I have to admit, the chance of finding a wife with no women available is... rather slim. I don't think God uses the same trick twice... and I like my ribs just as they are. All that wrestling with God... and He only noticed because He wanted to notice. I don't even think I scraped off what we might call dead skin. :p
Yeah, a nap. I'll deal with whatever there is to deal with when I wake up, if I wake up in a timely fashion. The bits of work left to do would be a great way to come back to life, get the brain and body in sync. I am not worried about putting in effort at the brunch I am more worried about getting there. I can slog through most things if I can just get to them. The adrenaline from having so many apex predators around, even if we are connected, keeps me more on my toes. Though a pot of coffee first might be good, if possible.
Have a good night.
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