Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Monday, April 15, 2013

Well, I suppose if I'm going to be suggesting monetary donations on here, I should make some sort of effort to at least appear to be putting actual work into this blog and its posts. Maybe I'll try a weekly thing like this where I just process my mind's blurred image of the past day or so, maybe the past week, and render it somewhat in focus. My mind is often forced to resolve blurs on its own. Today, for instance....

I awoke somewhere around six in the evening and got up the following hour. My circadian rhythm is as horrible and hopeless as it's ever been, perhaps to reflect my own sense of hopelessness. I eventually found my way to that surrogate social life known as Facebook and was befuddled by a wall of posts putting "bombs" and "Boston Marathon" together. The posts included five or six friends sharing a status by Patton Oswalt, who is one of the many people that fall in my "heard the name before but know nothing of the person" category. "Mister" Rogers also had a common quote in the feed. Apparently, something ridiculous and horrible happened.

New England is having a pretty horrendous time of it lately. From Hurricane Sandy, to Sandy Hook Elementary, to winter weather madness, and now this. I've not been to that part of the country ever; I do have a handful of cyber-friends there, though I'm not convinced any are Bostonites in particular. They're wonderful people in a region that I understand is lovely most of the time. They have my wishes of wellness in the face of increasing disaster, and I will gladly visit them in person as I am resourcefully able.

....which, back in the flatlands, I am of course not. This time last week, I mentioned a few things about my world that I don't mind following up on.

My "grandcousin" was born last Wednesday. (I decided I didn't like the "removed" terminology, so I made up a new title.) My mother made the drive down to Nashville the same day — arrived pretty much in time, so I'm told. The kid, born via cesarean section tangled in his umbilical cord (further evidence against "intelligent" design), seems to be all right; systems are good and all that jazz. I believe my cousin is also doing well post-C-section birth. All I know I know from my mother's nightly phone calls. He came home on Saturday. My mother's aiming to come back here maybe Wednesday, maybe Thursday. That gives my father and me just enough time to shop, clean bathrooms, and see to other such menial time-eaters. (My father wants to take me to Wal-Mart. You'd think by now he would know, I will not set foot in Wal-Mart. Hell, I couldn't even wait outside last time I was there without some police figure approaching us as we were getting in the car and leaving, talking about "loitering". Because only killers and rapists enjoy nice weather wherever they are.)

I had my state employment office meeting last week. It went better than I had thought it would, but I remain skeptical. I watched cartoons with my local friend from high school. I picked up my bicycle from the repair/tune-up place for more dough than I cared to have spent, considering I hadn't used the bike at all last year. I need a new helmet, but those cost nearly as much. I remember MAD Magazine saying something like, "Bicycles, which became popular as a cheap alternative to automobiles, have been so upgraded and enhanced that the same people who could not afford a car now also cannot afford a bicycle" (paraphrased from memory). Anyway, I filled out a job application for that place while I was there, because why not?. Otherwise, since my mother left on Wednesday, I've just been putting up with and looking after Dad, the dogs, and the house. No Paypal or Bandcamp yet. Just the sound of the pouring rain beyond this window in the late 3a hour.

This may not be my best writing; it's rather sloppy and reminiscent of a twelve-year-old's bedside diary. But if anyone's out here, I'd love to hear from you as ever.

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