HOLY SHIT.
And I thought the Mayan calendar was a specious connection to the end times.
One question I ask people who believe in the 2012 bullshit again and again and I can never get a reasonable answer: HOW IS IT PEOPLE THAT HAD ENOUGH INSIGHT TO ACCURATELY PREDICT THE END OF THE WORLD COULD NOT FORESEE THEIR OWN DESTRUCTION?
Makes you think-- no it doesn't.
This blog is locked with this message:
My drawings and creative writing are usually public, as are most memes. It's the personal/therapeutic stuff that is locked. If you want to read that too, please comment to be added.
Which I find especially humorous because nothing is locked.
At least, stuff that would definitely fall into the "personal" category is flapping free in the breeze so go fucking figure.
I'm really pretty happy with how this turned out. It's so functional and clean-looking! My first wedding site design was much frillier, but I realized that people will be visiting it to get information, above all else. In this version, you know immediately what you're looking at: it's a site about Jim/Angie's wedding, which will be on 6-30-12 on Orcas Island.
That is next year.
I'm pretty sure the royal fucking wedding had less plan time.
I'm kind of shocked that I pulled this off - I'm usually so bad with deadlines. I got behind on Wednesday, when Eric & co were so intent on having a drinking night. I told him about my self-imposed projects, and he thought it was pretty silly. As you can tell from the ridiculous f-locked post below, I succumbed to peer pressure... and was incredibly sick the next day.
Well I can't tell but I assume someone can.
Anyway, I persevered and finished everything pretty much to my satisfaction. My approach to projects feels very different now. Less stress/anxiety/I-just-want-to-be-sleeping, more focus. Another benefit of therapy?
ANOTHER BENEFIT OF THERAPY? Go fuck yourself, Jesus.
If you had to eat the same breakfast everyday for a year (and it would be prepared and served to you), what would you choose?
Just giving you some background for the douchiest response in the world:
Hahaha, I already eat the same thing for breakfast every day. Jim is always teasing me about how simple it is, and meanwhile, I feel incredibly lucky that we can afford to eat this way, not just once in a while but all the time. It's wondrous!
My breakfast: a slice of the rosemary bread from TJ's, a piece of tasty cheese (this changes, but it's often smoked gouda or cheddar), and sliced strawberries. (Okay, sometimes the strawberries do not look good and then I have blueberries or blackberries instead. But you get the idea.) Also, a glass of milk.
I have no idea what smoked gouda is but it gets worse:
I would not change it even if someone else offered to cook for me (though I do enjoy Saturdays, when Jim often lets me sleep in and engages in some cooking alchemy. He usually wakes me up with an egg/potato/cheese concoction which is delicious and sinful, but would not be nearly as good every day of the week).
Something about the phrase "delicious and sinful" seriously sent shivers down my spine.
DOUCHE SHIVERS.
Good grief.
Now here's a post entitled "Hedonism" and my body is ready for a douche seizure.
I sometimes get the sense from my more urban friends that they think people like me - people who want to live on the edges of mountains away from everything - are ascetics of a sort. We are missing out, they say. Maybe for some higher purpose (they are kind and don't evaluate the reward) but certainly at cost.
O ye lives bereft of content to think such thoughts.
And I think, but do not say, that I am the better hedonist. Who cares if you can get a skillfully mixed martini in a stylish bar? Who cares if you can rub your skin against another lonely human? The air smells bad in there. It smells like smoke and sweat. You are neglecting one of your senses, and that is shameful for a hedonist.
I wish there was Warhammer wisdom here but, alas, the writers of Warhammer never considered a steel for such douchebaggery.
Let's check the records, in fact.
"Happiness is a delusion of the weak."
I think that's about as fitting as it gets.
I have to admit, I'm a little embarrassed about this one.
Favorite Cover
It had to be a Glee song. What other choice did I have?
What other choice did you have?
I dunno, any other cover ever?
Or no, let's simplify this:
THIS SONG.
I am beginning to feel many things again. It's like - after you recover a head cold, when the woolly layer of sickness is removed from your tongue, and you take your meals with this sense of wonder. You remember what bitterness is, discover how a seared fish can go down in savory glory, and learn again to love the sweetness of ripe strawberries.
Whatever.
This just really underscores how awesome I am as a writer and how DELUUUUSIONAL everyone else is in my mind.
But what's funny is that I am tasting very little this week, because many of the things I'm feeling are so difficult.
Because when things taste bad you can just opt not to taste at all.
This is where you should check your analogy before it becomes increasingly difficult to follow.
Well anyway that's the first entry so job well done, me.
No comments:
Post a Comment