- There’s a huge end-of-year music review in this week’s Birmingham Weekly — some predictable, some not so much so, and some that I wrote, too.
- Looking back, I’m not sure how I feel overall about the past year. Things changed, and at the time, I thought that they were changing for the better, but now I think that they were changing to remain the same. Which is to say, all the progress I made towards the person I want to be by and large fell by the wayside this year. Familiar and comfortable patterns re-emerged, and I didn’t recognize many of them until too late.
And so perhaps, this year, armed with awareness, I can focus on reversing the reversal of that trend. I can step away, hopefully, from the comfortable — and in this case, comfortable is not good, in the sense of what I want, at least in the long term — and back into the unknown.
I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions, but I’m a little caught up in it this year. And so I have one — one only, and that’s all you get:
In 2006, I’ll do it better.
- Manicures are something I could easily get behind… It’s like fucking Pringles. Or crack cocaine.
- Today, next to last day of the year, finally felt like a vacation. And a spring one, at that — driving through Homewood to Neely’s house, I was so strongly reminded of another place — Chicago, to be specific, but it could have been any other place, a better place, somewhere that I belonged.
I feel more like myself today than I have in a very, very long time. And I think that maybe that translates into knowing that things are turning around, that good things are on the way.
- Out of all the things in the world that I could choose to have go right, the car was definitely the fortunate thing to fall into place. I still have plenty of places in my life that can use better things, but none of them are holding me down or back. And the car — well, it’s nice to know (perhaps even tempting) that I can hit the road at any time, and head to wherever it is that I’m headed.
Happy New Year to everyone. Be safe headed into 06.
Finally. The search is over. No more worrying about the truck with no brakes. No more worrying about financing, or searching for the right car, or taking on a new monthly payment. It’s all wrapped up and in motion.
And thanks to the new Razr cellphone (spelling? Who needs it?), I appear strongly in the midst of a mid-life crisis. But that’s silly.
I’m fully aware that I’m well past my midlife.
Stress over. Vacation can now actually begin. But first, sleep. And lots of it.
Madness does not always howl. Sometimes, it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, “Hey, is there room in your head for one more?”
There’s no right or wrong way to get through life. I’m learning that much. As with so many things, it falls back to perspective. What do you want out of life? A calm, safe ride with few surprises and plenty of security? A roller coaster scare with ups and downs and plenty of adrenaline?
Pros and cons, highs and lows. Both roads (and all the innumerable paths in-between) have plenty of each. Boil it down to what you want at the end of every day.
Problems arise, though, when what you want from day to day shifts like mercury. It seems, in a universe with infinite possibilities, that there would be one road that would happily fit everyone’s goals. How to find that road, though?
Constant adjustment, adaptation. Fluid definitions of good and bad, right and wrong. Allowing what you want to change; keeping what you desire in sight and working constantly towards it without letting yourself feel bad for not having something.
“The universe unfolds as it will.” Which is not to say that we can’t have some effect on the outcome, the manner in which it unfolds. But to ascribe to ourselves more power than we have over that in our surroundings over which we are powerless is to ask for blame and guilt unfounded.
Where to draw the line between what we have in our hands, and what is outside of our reach? Who really knows the difference between the two?
There’s no longer time to be tired of this push, to question why some of us are handed one fate while others get what we wish we had. On some levels, there’s not really any more time to ponder the reasoning behind it all, as I spend so much time doing; except maybe that understanding the foundation of it all makes the end result easier to guide.
A hearty “le fucking sigh” resounds throughout.
Alright, I’ve seen some strange search results in my stats before, but this one is… well, I know what post on here it will pull up, but I wonder if that’s what people are looking for when they type “man horse colon intestines farm seattle” into Google.
Not just one of you, either.
There are a number of you looking for the story of a prolapsed rectum.
And finding it here.
Merril Bobolit. There. I said it.
Not Quentin, not Matt, not Liz. Merril Bobolit.
If I’m wrong — what the hell, I’ll take next week off. That’s how firmly I believe my prediction.
What better tribute?
Thanks to you, my oldest friend,
I am Snot Faucet.
Macabre Santa display in NYC draws stares – Peculiar Postings – MSNBC.com:
Kathy Willens / AP
A New York couple�s holiday display includes a 5-foot-tall Santa holding a bloody doll�s head. The couple says it�s a fun way to comment on the commercialization of Christmas.”
Why would you feel the need to defend this? It’s brilliant on it’s own, thank you.
Stolen from ebay, but only because it will disappear too soon…
Yes, from the deranged mind (I prefer the term “Mad Genius”) that brought you the Flying Spaghetti Monster Dildo Cozy, comes a new evil. A new evil who will keep your tentacle warm while he waits for the stars to align.
100% acrylic, the Great Old One is suitable for those with wool allergies, and is technically washable, if relatively fragile. Putting him in a pillowcase, although it’s an insult to the Elder Gods, might be appropriate.
This is a one-of-a-kind art piece, so I will not be making more. Get it now, or you’ll have to wait until he comes to eat and enslave us for a second chance.
IA! IA! CTHULHU FTHAGN!!