New Photoblog is a GO

You asked for it--or failed to vote against it, anyway. I have pics for every day so far this year. I think I'm going to let kids in my homeroom set up and take pictures of me as well. Give them a feeling of... photographerness... or something.

Look for the new poll tomorrow (or so) about what to call the two rooms in my house I'm currently confused about...

Final Day To Vote!

The poll about whether or not the blog "365 (and some change)Days of ME!" will become a reality ends tonight (1/10/10) at 11:55, if I remember my settings correctly (or the settings I chose for the survey, anyway--I have no clue about my personal settings, although they're usually stuck on "irrataional output only"). The poll is on my blog page, and details are available in this post.

I'm tired and want to go to bed. Unfortunatetly, I'm all wrapped up in this book and will spend some time reading it before I actually sleep. I won't pretend to be planning on getting up for church, despite my need to go this week more than many other previous weeks--my driveway has miles to go before I... back down it. It's a snow thing.

Also, since Dane will be without his computer until I get it to him (hopefully tomorrow after more shoveling), let me point out that today is 1/10/10, and 1 times 10 is 10. That is all.

Don't Get Used To It (Or: Don't Worry, It Will Be Over Soon)

Yeah, this daily writing in the blog thing was NOT a resolution. It's just a symptom of cabin fever. There's only so much to do when you don't want to leave your house.

The driveway needs to be cleared, and I didn't want to go out there in the -1,000,000 temperature to do it, and if I'd paid anyone else to do it, I'd feel cheap paying them anything less than $1000, which I don't have.

I do think a 3-week break would be nice every year around the holidays, however. With all the craziness that goes on from the start of break to January 1, it's nice to have time to just do whatever. I actually CLEANED stuff today. ME! CLEANING! That never happens. Well, seldom happens. I couldn't let it get crazy filthy or anything.

Here's a question for the people who read this--especially those who have been in my house: What should I call the room at the front of the house where the front door is and the room at the back of the house where the television is? I feel like I do most of my living in the back room, so I want to call it the living room. If I do that, however, that leaves little to call the front room other than "the front room". We had a "front room" when I grew up, and I didn't realize until I was way older than just a kid what a strange name that was for a room (like "living room" is any better?)...

So then I could call that room in the front the living room, but that means I call the back room the... family room? It's just me here. Granted, when I have family over (whether it be my biological family or my family in spirit (a.k.a. my friends, for those of you who aren't getting it)), that's the room we tend to congregate in. Still, it feels odd calling it a family room. I guess I could call the front room the "sitting room" as there really isn't much to do there other than sit and maybe play the piano if I ever find a cheap and halfway decent piano bench (and the "halfway decent" makes me laugh, because my piano ain't no work of art--which reminds me, is there a reality show where they refurbish some old crap for fun? I should get on that with this piano). Oo, or maybe I could call it the parlour. What makes a room a parlour?

Okay, I just looked it up. First of all, why do I so often use the British spelling of things? Maybe there was something to that mini-past-life reading I had done back in whatever year that was... '89? '90?

Anyway, maybe I'll call it the parlour after all. And the back room can be the living room.

I'm spending way to much thought on this. Is ANYONE enjoying the view from inside my brain? I think maybe I'll just say "the front room" and "the back room". Or I can call the back room "the cave". Who cares, right?

Anyway, school will start back up soon, and this daily boredom from me will end soon--so don't send people over to cut off my hands or anything!

It Was A Good Day

I didn't expect much out of today. I mean, there's a huge clue to my level of inclination to dissatisfaction when a week ago I was internally bemoaning the fact I overbook my break (meaning I book anything at all, really) when what I really want is just to chill out all alone... but then when I get a chance to chill out alone, I'm thinking it's a huge waste.

I blame the fact I finally got caught up to this season of Smallville. Also Dr. Who regenerated, and it's bumming me out. I have many things to blame that AREN'T ME, so don't rock my boat, people. However, do feel free to vote in the poll on my blog (upper right side, I believe).

Anyway, I've lost my original thought (which is nothing new, much like my poor proofreading skills).

Oh yeah, I didn't expect much today. I wanted to rig up the bathroom nearest to mine with a workable shower (it came with a bath, no shower, but for many reasons, I've grown weary of this). Once I was well into that project, I realized I needed to get the Christmas tree de-Christmasified and taken down (yes, artificial--it's a family tradition... my brother is allergic, I think).

I got the shower done, and just about the time I finished packing the tree into the box, I had company.

So: hooray! I got to play Bananagrams today, which is a crazy fun game for a word freak like me. I recommend it to all word freaks.

Also, I made some sugar cookies and made an insane trip out of the house to the grocery store. This was mostly due to the fact I have very little of substance to eat in my house right now. And I threw out my milk because it was wonky. Not sour. Wonky. That's a freakin' disgusting wonky, not a cute and bearable one. I don't know what was wrong with it, but it tasted like liquid wages of sin.

I finally get back home, my car full of important provisions, and I can't make it back to the garage. I actually get stuck.

Yes, ME! STUCK in snow! The audacity! Or something.

Luckily, I bought a shovel yesterday evening, thinking maybe Cody wouldn't be by to shovel snow today (and I don't know that I would have let him, once I felt how cold it was outside), but I might need my own shovel, and: ta-da! I did.

So I dug myself out. It didn't take long. I'm in until my driveway is cleared, however. Feel free to come visit. (Park on the street.)

Christmas is down, but not out. I mean the decorations are down, but they're not out of the house yet. They're not even out of the front room yet. I want to get some bubble wrap for my mugs and whatnot, and I'm not taking everything out to the shed until the snow is history. I think they'll be plenty safe in the sun room.

I just realized I haven't scheduled my surprise birthday party with people. I hope you guys are marking your calendars... it's on my actual birthday... my place. Time T.B.A., but it will be in the evening (7:00 or so). And DON'T TELL ME ABOUT IT! It's a SURPRISE!

My Epiphany: It's All About Natural Consequences, Baby

Appropriately enough, today I had an epiphany, of sorts...

Over the past 30-odd hours, I've been thinking a lot about Brad and reading about his life after 1985, and reading very funny things he wrote and all of the amazing things he was a part of... and I realized while I'll never not feel awful about the way things went with us, I don't need any more punishment than the natural consequences: I didn't get to be his friend. I'll always have this Brad-shaped hole in my life (I was just commenting on someone's blog today how I often think of Brad when I read something he would have liked or see something he might have laughed about or gotten intrigued by), and it was of my own making. On the other hand, I'm sure Brad picked himself up, dusted himself off, and moved on ages ago. "So enough with the agonizing over what happened 25 years ago," I told myself.

So I hope I get to attend some part of the funeral arrangements, although I've not heard anything more about them at this time. I'm also hoping the weather will cooperate at least a little bit...

Speaking of weather--no school for the rest of the week. Strange. I don't know all the down-and-dirty reasons why it's called. I see people on facebook talking about what they've heard or what they think about it, but from my point of view I think it's not a bad thing--and I don't mean because I don't have to go to work. We have lots of kids who either don't have the sense or don't have the budget (or both) to dress warmly. We have lots of kids who are seeing themselves off to school in the morning. We have a lot of kids in both categories who ride a bus to school. I'd rather not have ANY kid standing out in that cold--properly dressed or not (but especially the not).

I hope each of you in the snowy parts of the world is staying warm, driving safely, and being the best person you know how to be. Actually, I'll go ahead and wish that last one for all of you.

Good-bye, Brad. I'm So Sorry.

A high-school friend sent me a message on facebook this afternoon to let me know Brad Graham had died. Now I'm wracking my brain trying to remember when I first met Brad.

I know it was in P.E.--we were both about equally into sports. I keep thinking that would make it my junior year and his freshman year, but that doesn't seem right. I think my high-school yearbooks are at school (or lost forever due to a fire I can't get enough of remembering), and I could check there--but it really seems like we were friends far longer than that.

Not only were we equally into sports (which is to say very little), but we were equally into all things of the geek: science fiction (with a lot of Doctor Who and Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy emphasis, but not all), books, computers, technology in general...

Not long after first meeting him, I started going over to hang out with him at his home--a total lack of most things geeky was just one of many reasons he never hung out at my home. We edited together our own radio show intro tapes (I bet I could find it in my box of tapes, if I had it in me to go look) with snips and clips of various recordings (including THHGTTG on album). We wrote scripts. Somewhere on a very old--probably no longer readable--giant floppy disk (okay, not GIANT, but huge enough) I have a copy of a movie project we put together when we were in the gifted program together (before I got kicked out for my lack of motivation in the regular classroom, that is). We thought up computer programs and did our best to make them a a reality using the computers available to us at the time.

Brad was the one who organized my friends into buying me my first computer mouse for my birthday my senior year.

We spoke the same geeky language. When I "borrowed" a piece of work to use as my own, he totally called me out on it, but not unkindly so. We worked on the yearbook together. We went to sci-fi conventions together--or went to at least one together. We were supposed to go to one my senior year, but I ended up backing out.

It was February of my senior year. I remember that much. I used to have the dates burned in my memory--and my brain can picture a calendar of awful events from February, 1985 that I once actually printed out. (Yes, people, I have always needed to organize things to try to make sense of them--even if the organization makes no sense to others).

I threw away what probably could have been one of the best friendships of my life. Maybe it would have tanked either way. Maybe we would have grown apart as I've grown apart from most of my other friends from those days, only to be brought back together with the advent of facebook--at which point one or both of us would be making that choice of "to friend or not to friend".

But who knows what would have happened. The point is I threw away a friendship. Worse, I'm too much of a coward to even delve into the details. Suffice it to say I "severed all ties" abruptly and just before we were supposed to go to a Doctor Who convention in St. Louis. I wish I could say there was some huge disagreement and we came down on opposing sides. I wish I could say he was trash-talkin' me in front of my peeps. No, it was all me, really. Me, dealing with my own crap... but still all me in the end.

Brad is that friend I would google on occasion--every 5 or 10 years or so--to see how he was doing (one of the first weblogs, credited with coining the term "blogsphere"), but I'm pretty sure was never brave enough to send him an e-mail. I never empty my send folder, so if I could get onto my last two computers, I could check to be sure--I'd at least feel a little better today if I knew I'd sent him an e-mail apologizing for being such an ass back in 1985.

The heart-breaker for me was pulling up his facebook page this afternoon, and seeing that "Add as friend" button. Something like an accusation, something like a really bad April Fool's Day joke, and something like an unsympathetic judge, it glared at me from the screen--accusing, laughing, punishing. And me without my time machine.

My sister-from-another-mister Lyndsey pointed out it might be wise to take the major lesson from this event and apply it to other areas of my life, and she's right.

We're only here for so long. Don't waste your relationships being stubborn or stupid or angry or bitter. And for pity's sake: make amends where you can. Mend fences, build bridges, and other constructiony things.

And make sure to remember to forgive yourself sometimes.

The Story That Got Away

There's a very uninteresting story as to why I'm up at this hour. I'm coming at the day from the wrong side of it--meaning I'm finally going to bed after I finish this bit up...

The up side: No school today. Maybe not the rest of the week, but I'll believe that when I receive the official phone call. The down side of that would be an extension of the school year, but whatever.

Anyway, I've been up for a pretty boring reason that I won't go into here. Suffice it to say I wasn't watching television or hanging on the facebook or any of my normal up-too-late-ed-ness-es.

I'm reading the next installment of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, not written by DNA. I don't know what I think of it yet. (And no, that's not what kept me up yet, either, I was making an attempt at a transition.)

I honestly had something I wanted to get said before I went to bed. Now I don't remember what it was. I hope it wasn't important. (Wrong blog for that, really...)

Really, I'm not trying to write a diary here...

I forgot to put my favorite part of my visit to Omaha: When I said, "I'm a big ol' homeowner," and my aunt Rachel cracked up laughing--and I had to explain to Cheryl what the joke was (Rachel thought I was going to stop before the -ner). Actually, there were lots of favorite parts to that short visit--Binx and his books, Cheryl and her stories of falling down, and so on.

Anyway, back to school tomorrow. Kids on Tuesday. Nobody seems to be voting on my poll over there on the right... well, nobody except for one person, last time I checked. I'm taking pictures, just in case (Jordan took the one yesterday), however.

In a couple of days, it'll be my 43rd Christmas Season down. It's always a bummer putting the stuff away, but the teacher in me (and the part of me that hates waking up to an alarm) just reminds me it means we're headed toward summer break.

I didn't make church this morning. While taking my shower, I realize I'm standing in water. Apparently there was some sort of freezing of the drain water while I was gone. So I spent the morning looking up solutions for that. You'd think this would turn me off of homeownership, but this is one area where my really bad living situation pays off: I'm just glad I'm fixing things on my own place, not one owned by someone else!

1.) Best Christmas Ever: I always say it was the year Santa somehow got to our house early while we were all out at Say's place. Mom and Dad (and maybe Say, even) spotted Rudolph flying way up in the sky, and tried to get us to see the moving red light, but we were too late... Someone (I think Say) suggested maybe Santa had already made it to the house, and sure enough, he had! This was the year I got this haunted house game that I wish I could remember the name of. I loved that game, but apparently not enough to keep it safe for years and years.

2.) Best Christmas Present Ever: Probably my Apple IIC. It was supposed to be a Christmas-Birthday-Christmas-Birthday-Christmas-Birthday present, but my sister Ruth will verify I ended up getting something for one of the subsequent Christmases or birthdays. She even knows what it was I got, I think.

3.) Best Part of This Christmas Season: I'd have to say having the family over for dinner. Sounds sappy, doesn't it? It was that or the game night with friends, but technically that was during Advent, not Christmas. Not that anybody seems to pay attention to the difference between the two...

Okay, so share your three! 1.) Best Christmas Ever, 2.) Best Christmas Present Ever, and 3.) Best Part of This Christmas Season!

Two Days In

Today was a very special day--unless I'm forgetting something, like an overnight stay somewhere since the end of April of last year: I woke up somewhere other than in my new home today... however, it was a nice hotel suite, so I was okay with it.

Compeltely failed to get with most of the Omaha family, but did see Carrie, Binx, Cheryl, and Aunt Rachel--I just need to schedule an actual weekend in Omaha or something--or convince Karen to host a big family get-together (which is my 2nd-favorite plan, the first being having it at my place, but I figure we'd get more of the Omaha crowd if we had it there) sometime over my spring break.

I got to Carrie's closer to 9:00 than 8:45, and Jordan was totally zonked out on the couch--but got together quickly enough when I said we had to go. Binx took my leaving with a nod and a wave, but was in tears over Jordan going. Note to self: spend less on his present next year.

After going to Rachel's for a morning visit of about 45 minutes or so (with Cheryl being there for most of the last 30 of those minutes), Jordan and I headed back to Kansas City. Jordan wasn't sure how it was I managed to stay awake and drive while listening to George Winston's December. I was going to offer to let her listen to any CD she wanted if she'd clean all the soot off all my Christmas CD cases, but then decided against it. It's my soot. I want to clean it.

Dropped Jordan off and saw Leslie and Matt for all of about two minutes--Leslie is under the weather, so she's having a great start to the new year.

Went to Ben & Tricia's from there, and arrived only 15 minutes into the party. Good news: Below-zero temperatures in Omaha (the Wii was in my trunk all night) didn't seem to make the Wii unusable for the party! Hooray!

On the contemplative side of things: You know, I usually feel pretty good about things I can remember from years ago, but when I sit down to think about individual Christmases or New Years or birthdays or whatnot, I start drawing blanks. I know that NYE 1985 (into 1986) I went to Quincy, IL to see the movie CLUE. And I'm pretty sure it was 1989 into 1990 that I spent NYE driving across the state after running lights for a show at the Unicorn. I suppose if I sat down with some time on my hands, I could come up with more. It just seems I don't remember as much as I used to. Maybe I only have so much space, and I'm having to start erasing files to make room for new ones, eh?

Happy 2010!

I don't know if I'd say it's a resolution, but I've brought back "STILL: Life". I'm thinking about starting another photo blog called "365 (and some change) Days of ME!" This one would just have a different picture of me for each day--preferably taken by someone else, but if nobody e-mails me a photo from that day by midnight, I'll use one I took myself... if I decide to do it, that is. With school out I tend to get more ideas than I have time for...

As far as resolutions go, I have things I'd like to do, but won't go so far as to get all resolve-y about them. Maybe eat right, maybe exercise, maybe write more, maybe make it to church more regularly, maybe lots of things.

The holidays were fun, hope everyone else had a good time. I was explaining to a younger person that once you get a certain age, it isn't about the presents so much--or it better not be, if you want to avoid major disappointment! This year (2010) I may go a little crazy with the lights out front. I stayed a bit laid back for this current season.

So, in case I don't get you invited, I'm throwing a surprise birthday party for myself on my birthday. Shh! Don't tell me! It's a surprise. It'll be at my house, and everyone should get there close to the posted time, so someone can go get me (I'll go with them for this) and bring me home for that big "Surprise" moment. Don't you just LOVE surprise parties? Whatever. Mark your calendar.

Well, that's all there is to report. Go check out STILL: Life. The first picture is boring, but I'm in a hotel room in Omaha and hadn't taken any non-people pictures all day (wish I'd gotten the moon rising, but I was driving up I-29 at that time).

I Keep Coming Back To Two Crosses

I've been gone a while... or actually, here a while, but not getting on blogspot for a while.

However, I've been thinking a lot about the Columbine cross controversy from about 10 years back. I guess it's just something that snagged in my brain back when I first heard about it.

So when I have a free moment I google and read and try to get the story. My understanding of the whole thing right now is sketchy, but essentially someone asked a carpenter from Illinois to make 15 crosses for the 13 Columbine victims and the two shooters. I'm sketchy on who did the asking, but this carpenter apparently did this for victims of violence, something he started after his father-in-law and friend were killed.

For a long time I thought it was all his idea, but apparently he was asked. He put the two shooters' names in a different font, to set them apart.

One of the victim's father was angry enough to tear the two crosses down. This carpenter came and took the 13 remaining crosses, but then ended up bringing them back.

I don't know why this story keeps banging around my head. It just does. I'm intrigued. I think the whole thing sums up something that's very wrong with humans, spiritually speaking.

I would like to be able to put this into words sometime. Maybe sometime when I'm not trying to get grad school stuff done, or whatever else is taking up my time.

In other news... Well, if you're on fb, there's no need to share other news. There's no real other news, I guess. Less than two months left in 2009!

Why Must I Be Sad?

I'm not sad. That's a They Might Be Giants Song that was going through my head just now for reasons that I may clear up by the time I get to the end of this rambling post...

Anyway, check out how I don't post here much. Done checking? Cool.

Here's a list of things I haven't written about, but thought about while away from the computer: Evidence shows that my brother Wade is a good big brother (on average--he ain't perfect or nothin'); I have to have a poll on here for people to say it matters to them that I eat right and exercise and try to get healthy, because I'll never do it for myself--but I'll do it for others; vacation is coming to an end and I have little to show about it; my life must be less stressful, because I have fingernails; how do you apologize to people you've hurt horribly when you think an apology is going to pale in comparison to the horribleness that was you on a rage rampage; and more...

But now I'm writing because I couldn't sleep (from 2:30 to about 3:10 there was a concert in my room as I tried to remember lyrics to songs to put myself to sleep--I didn't work) and I was looking at different things I'd written. Since I don't have all my files off the old computer yet, I don't have a lot of stuff available... so I went to the old posts from 2005 and 2006.

Reading through those made that TMBG song start going through my head.

A friend told me, "You'll never be that happy again," and I'm afraid she's right.

At any rate, reading these things did actually cause me to feel better about life--I haven't forgotten how awful things were when I lived in that house and was digging my way out of robbing-Peter-to-pay-Paul-ville, but reading things I wrote while I was there put my part of my brain back in it so the compare/contrast was much easier.

The up side of pizza delivery: I thought more. I think I do my best thinking while driving. There's no TV to drown out my brain. I think I need to start making some "thinking time" part of my day... but what are the odds?

The other thing I have to do is start going to church regularly. I've had some horrible times this summer, and I know it's because I've gotten out of that practice of being in church every week. Get me--I'm actually one of those people who says his life is better if he goes to church each week. When did that happen? But I know it's what's missing.

What's missing from Ch__ch? U R!

Anyway, I think I've reached that special time of the early morning when I can actually fall asleep without a sleep aid. Wish me luck on getting up and getting to the school in the morning--I have furniture-moving I want to do before we go back next week.

Ranting Like A Crazy Person

So I'm on facebook, and this person I knew in high school has posted this as his status:

Is sad to hear that a former student and athlete was killed today in an auto accident today. Good kid. Her dad is a pastor and hopefully she had made a commitment to Christ.

It's like Krakatoa in my head right now. Having heard something VERY similar at my aunt's funeral, I had to tackle myself and hold myself to the floor in order to keep myself from clicking "Comment" and ranting like a crazy person.

At the very least, I want to comment, "Having heard something very similar at my aunt's funeral, I hope God in her infinite wisdom gave you at least enough sense not to say something that pompous and pious and other p-words (along with pthoughtless) to members of her family."

And that is SO the very least. Krakatoa, remember?

So, comment away, folks. Thoughts? I can't type any more, or this may be my most crazy rant ever.

It's 2:40A.M.

It's 2:40 in the morning. It's June 24th. I'm awake. If you're reading this and halfway sane and not going through some health issue or life trauma right now, I imagine you're asleep as I type this--or maybe in another time zone.

This is the first summer in a while where I haven't taught XLT (that's Summer School to you non-NKCSD folks... and NKCSD is North Kansas City School District--for you same folks). Also, my life is so different now, I find myself living it a little differently.

I didn't have cable television for several years. I didn't have decent access to the web (I was a dial-up dude up until the end of November, 2008). I wasn't on facebook when I only had dial-up; everything is SO slow on dial up, which used to be just fine back in the day.

So it's summer vacation time. I watch a lot of television. I spend time on facebook. I surf the net looking for recipes and books and music and information about authors and read about friends and wonder what wonderful things humans will come up with long after I'm gone, and reflect on the things that weren't around when I was 16 that I have trouble imagining living without now.

And yeah, they're just things. Trust me, if Mark Riggs can live without cable for over five years, Mark Riggs can probably live without just about any modern convenience.

Except functioning toilets. Oh, I could live without them, but I'd really really really really rather not.

I'm also spending this summer getting my house put together, and training myself to mean "my house" when I say "my house". Making the first payment helped a lot. I'm pretty much there at this point, but my "Don't get settled in" attitude from... oh, 1985 or so up until this past May... is hard to shake off. And at the same time there's this feeling of, "This is your house! When you put up the pictures, you need to get it right!"

But this isn't what inspired me to write. I saw The Wilders on Saturday night, and it made me wish I was doing something more than what I'm doing. Sometimes I think I might be a huge amount of wasted potential... not that I have a huge amount of potential, but I'm huge, and I have potential, and it's wasted... oh, you get the idea.

And it's not from a lack of projects... I've got a friend who wants me to finish writing something I started several months ago. I've got another thing I want to write. I've got... rhythm...

Wow. That cursor flashed for a while.

I'm realizing I don't really have an excuse right now. Maybe that's why I sat down to type this. I'm a person that has to process thing through communication, I guess (maybe we all are; I don't know). I originally was feeling all philosophical about how I was born in the morning, yet I feel like such a night person, but now I'm thinking I need to take that crack-down attitude I had about working extra jobs to try to get life back on track, and use that to start getting things done I want to do.

Which will admittedly be difficult, because I'm not very good at doing things for myself. That's not to say I'm not a selfish jerk, because I am. I'm saying I'm more apt to DO something for someone else. For me, I'm more apt to let me relax and hang out.

Well, I'm glad you could all be here while I worked that out.

Also: Isn't it strange how I'm a night person, but was born in the morning? Or is that how it's supposed to work?

The Grumpy Old Man And The Other Shoe (A Story For Future Times?)

So I have a house, and I'm all about the "Hooray, house!" and people keep noticing I don't really seem to be all about the "Hooray, house!"

And I figured out this week I've become a grumpy middle-aged man.

So can you imagine what sort of grumpy old man I'll be, should I survive to old-man-dom?

And I live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. (Well, now I'm more interested in the etymology of that expression, but I'm still waiting for that other shoe to drop, no matter what the origin of the expression.)

So I really am WAY excited to be a homeowner, but that excitement is hidden behind the me that's listening for that other shoe. Or the next shoe.

Life is a infinipede, and there's always another shoe. Or so I have come to believe, apparently.

I guess the wiser man would suggest having a good time until the other shoe drops, and stop waiting for it.

Okay, I'm tired, but I wanted to share those thoughts with the people of the world for no particular reason other than to warn them to stay out of my yard in the future, as I'm likely to yell at them to get out of it if I catch them.

There Are Days...

There are days I think, "This is the day I'm gonna turn my life around! I'm gonna get caught up on everything I need to get done! I'm gonna fix everything wrong in my life that I've been meaning to fix! I'm gonna build the bridges that I've burned over the past however-many years! I'm gonna--I wonder what's on t.v. right now?"

There are days when I'm not sure what day it is, and I'm not sure how upset I should be about it.

There are days when I remember the me of a day several years ago, and that me and this me are like to overhead transparencies lined up over each other, and I can see how different this me is from that me, and it's an odd feeling of surprise, happiness, disappointment, regret, and joy. There's a word for that particular mix of feelings, but there are no vowels in that word, so we can't pronounce it.

There are days when I question whether or not a free public education for all is a good idea. These days are usually non-summer weekdays. I tend to go on to wonder if the culture of "school is bad, and I hate going" would change if it were possible to say, "You're right. Go get a job. Nike needs someone to put together their shoes, I think." I wonder how long it would take for things to turn around if we were also allowed to say a month later to that young'n beggging to come back, "Um... no. Try that Nike thing for a year first. It might grow on you." Or, would the workplace become the babysitter that we used to be before the Golden Era of "A Free Public Education for Everyone Who Knows How to Act Right at Least 75% of the Time and Promise to Show Up With an Attitude to Learn at Least 75% of the Time"? The world will never know... Mostly because I don't think an era would ever have that long of a name, Golden or not.

There are days when I can't believe I'm 42. I feel both 12 and 72 at the same time.

There are days when I see a side of a student I've never seen before and remember that it's important to question everything you believe about a person... especially if they're about 13 or so.

There are days when I wonder if people who make decisions about lunch times really believe kids can eat a healthy meal in 6 minutes.

There are days when I have these moments of clarity that allow me to see all I should be thankful for when I've been nothing but cranky and judgemental, or angry and haughty, or just plain jerky. That's plain jerky, not beef.

There are days when I have all these thoughts I want to put on my blog, but feel I can't express them right... or well... or both.

There are days that I think of "What might have been," ranging from events in my lifetime that relate directly to me, to events before my time that don't relate directly to me... and everything in-between (and around... and over... and beside...)

There are days I bite off more than I can chew, but then manage to chew it anyway, mostly because of the ick factor of someone spitting out something they can't chew.

There are days I go through without a single quote from a Joss Whedon show going through my head. These are extremely rare, however.

There are days when I suddenly think about someone I know who is dead, and I wish more than anything for just another conversation with whichever one I suddenly thought of. Many of these people are relatives... and a few are friends. However, there aren't a lot of days I think to pick up the phone and talk to the living. I think this is poor planning on my part.

There are days I wish we had more hours in the day for sleeping. I'd dig a 30 hour day if I could get 6 more hours of sleep.

There are days where I know where I'm headed when I start a blog entry. This isn't one of them.

Random Quotes From the Book I'm Reading OR Why I'm So Sad Terry Pratchett Has Early Onset Alzheimer's

"The moon was on the way to being full. A gibbous moon, it's called. It's one of the duller phases of the moon and seldom gets illustrated. The full moon and crescent moon get all the publicity."

"Worried though he was, and he was worried to his boots, Rob Anybody grinned. If there's one thing a Feegle likes, it's knowing that wherever you strike, you're going to hit an enemy."

"Learnin' how not to do things is as hard as learning how to do them. Harder, maybe. There'd be a sight more frogs in this world if I didn't know how not to turn people into them."

"Tomorrow, your job is to change the world into a better place. Today, my job is to see that everyone gets there."

"It's an unfair world, child. Be glad you have friends."

All from A Hat Full of Sky, by Terry Pratchett. Some (okay, ALL) of it is better in context, and my favorite speech is WAY too long to type here. Just stop by a book store or library and read the bulk of pages 294 and 295! Better yet, read the whole book! (But you should read The Wee Free Men first...)

It's Not Easy Goin' Green

Here's a horrible thing I noticed about every time I go to the Scronics and get something to eat (which is more often than it should--bad enough I'm getting a Route 44 cherry-vanilla Dr. Pepper, but a grilled cheese sammich, too? yikesikins!), the bag they put the sandwich in is seriously used for the amount of time it takes them to put the sandwich and whatnot in the bag, hand it to me, me to turn the bag upside down to get sandwich and what not out, pull forward about... 6 yards or so to the trash can, and throw it away.

Okay, solution 1 is that I stop buying sammiches at the Scronics. And this will happen (or reduce in amount) when I have my place up north. It's just I'm often-times going somewhere other than Olathe after school (or after the after-school activities), and a quick sammich is the only way to go. But it's not going to happen forever and ever amen until I'm dead. So let's think...

I keep thinking I could save them and do something with them, but what do you do with a kinda-used paper bag from the Scronics. Handy if someone is hyperventilating, I suppose, but beyond that... I mean, there's a slight ick factor because it's been USED... ewwwwww...

Anywho, that's the homework assignment for this post. Spelling doesn't count (for real, check out some of the typos and/or spelling errors on my posts).

Why I Haven't Been To Church Since October

First, that's not true. I've been to church several times since October... at least four, anyway. However, it wasn't my church. It was Dane's church--or Dane's and Ruth's church now.

This is going to be one of those posts where you wonder why I'm sharing so much. So if that makes you uncomfortable, go to STILL: Life and check out my funny picture from several weeks back.

Anyway, I went a little crazy at the end of October. I had just about reached the end of my imaginary rope, that was several miles below the end of my actual rope--I'd been fakin' it that long.

I had so much going on, and I was teetering on the edge of... something you don't want to teeter on the edge of.

So while I was trying to juggle school, grad school, tutoring, directing the children's choirs, paying bills, waiting for grad school loans, robbing Peter, putting off Paul a little longer, and so on and so forth, the last straw landed on that camel's back.

It came in the form of an e-mail from someone at the church (and I think copied to several someones at the church... but I'm not sure and my old computer isn't here right now), and I tried really hard to count to 100 before I hit "Reply all" and started typing.

I got to 0.000013, I think.

Anyway, I sent a Vitriol Special to all parties concerned, and essentially told them to piss off and leave me alone until further notice.

Then my life turned around a little, the a little more... then there was a fire, and that sucked, but then there was more life-turning-around-ed-ness... but by then I was hanging in Olathe, and there ain't no way I'm driving up north of a Sunday when I'm already doing it of a Monday thru Friday.

Anyway, I have to make a decision when I move up north in a few weeks. Do I go back to say "Hey" to the people I made an ass of myself in front of, or do I just find another church and move on with my life.

I know wherever I go, volunteering is off the table for a while. What I feel I need right now is some good hard thought about the Bible and my faith in general, seriously. I would love to help, but my helping hand has too many chunks of flesh bitten out of it right now, I think, and I don't have the time or energy to nurse it back to health.

Selfish, no?

I don't know. Feel free to comment, if there's anyone out there who reads these posts o' mine any more. I know when I go to Dane's (and Ruth's) church, I miss having that.

I don't know. So it goes. All the live-long day.

Random Beautiful Moment

Life is life of late. Probably worse since mid-October or so in some ways, but better since November or so in others. Worse since mid-December is still other ways, but better since early January in others.

So it's life, right?

Anyway, tonight found myself in a beautiful moment, and I thought to share it here with anyone who stumbles across it (or who comes here from my reference to it on facebook).

I took Jordan to a movie tonight. (Last House on the Left, actually... there was much debate in front of the theatre about what to see (I wanted Knowing or Push, she wanted Last House on the Left now or Push now and Last House on the Left with a friend (a boy!) later...

Whatever, the beautiful moment was actually on the way to the theatre.

She brought along a CD. I would love to tell you the name of the band/artist, but I can't. I do know it was track 4 that brought on the beautiful moment.

She said, "Listen to this," and cued up the aforementioned track, then proceeded to sing along with it.

I will fail miserably describing this moment, and let me start ensuring that by first pointing out how badly I'm going to suck at it.

From the instant she started singing, I was in the land of the beautiful moment. It wasn't that her voice was really great or really awful. It was just a combination of things. She was really matching the style of the woman singing, and her voice just sounded so... I don't know... beautiful, really.

I seriously had to fight back a big reaction. I finally asked her if she was going to sing this in a talent show, and she said she couldn't sing without the CD. She turned it down but continued singing, and she did indeed sound like what I'd call the 14-year-old girl singing... not very confident, very exposed in the moment, and so on. (That was probably the peak of the beautiful moment for me, I think.)

She turned the CD back up, and I said I still thought she sounded good, and she just needed to sing with confidence and so on and so forth...

But there was something really beautiful about the whole moment. I wish I could express it better than I've tried here.