Had a dream last night that was mercifully short and it wasn't until later today that I had an inkling as to what it meant. In the dream, I was in a house with a group of people, somewhere between a get together and a party. I knew most of the people, though I can't recall who they were. The impression I got was that they were friends.
Everyone seemed to be having a good time, except for me and a woman I was with. I have no idea who she was, but the two of us were in a room with two scary individuals. They were our captors, had been for some time, it seemed. One of the men was about to drug the woman and, according to him, the only way for the drug, which was in pill form, to be effective, was to crush it in excrement and administer it orally.
He pulled out a bag of shit and told us it was his own. As revolting as the idea of watching this woman eat shit in order to be drugged was, I held her down as our captor went to work. I was clearly in the grips of Stockholm Syndrome.
I don't remember much of what, if anything, happened after that. Two things were clear: I had been a prisoner of these two men, who were part of a larger network of slave traders, and the people in the house were indifferent to my captivity.
Initially, I chalked the dream up to having read too much about the Franklin Scandal and The Finders, but I think, though that was surely part of it, there was more to it. Or maybe there wasn't more to it, but it did set my thoughts in a certain direction.
On my way home from work today, I was thinking about the dream and then my thoughts shifted to the "dark night of the soul" I had gone through a month or two ago. Though I don't think I'm out of the water yet, I feel I have more perspective and, consequently, hope.
I thought about how difficult it was going through it alone. It was rough not having a support network, something I thought I had in place. Initially, I thought this was due solely to people not giving a shit about my problems. Sadly, this notion was supported during an incident I'd like to forget.
With perspective, I've come to the conclusion that the reasons for the lack of support I felt are multi-fold. And when I say lack of support, I mean it mostly in the general sense. I never felt a global, sweeping, abandonment. Basically, it wasn't just a matter of people having written me off. And, though I felt hurt throughout it all, presently there are no hard feelings, or, to be more accurate, not many hard feelings.
With even greater perspective, I think I'll see that I needed to go through this period without anyone holding my hand throughout it. In order for me to switch from the agonizingly passive approach I take to much of my life to a more proactive one, it has to be that way. And doing it myself does not mean without the aid of people. Far from it.
The nature of my relationships have changed, some more dramatically than others. I've been lucky to have the friends and family I have. Dynamics change -- it's the way of things, I know; I only wish more of the changes were for the better. Still, there are new relationships to be forged, old ones to rekindle. It's not so bad.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
It's a beautiful day
My day:
Went to bed late, woke up kind of late. Felt as if I didn't get enough sleep, though.
Ate a small breakfast quickly -- wanted to get to the grocery store before it got crowded.
On my way to the store, my car sputtered and heaved, sputtered and heaved. Must have water in the gas line, I thought. Barely made it to the store, which was packed beyond belief. Got my stuff, drove home. Repeat sputter and heave.
At home in the driveway, I wondered how bad the situation was. Was this a sign of something more serious. Would I make it to work ok? What if I need major repairs? For someone barely getting by week to week, financially speaking, these thoughts carried some weight.
Out of the car, I was met with the deep rumbling staccato of Steve's pressure washer. For the last couple of weekends now, he's been parading the thing out. And not for short amounts of time. "Again with this fucking thing!", I lamented out loud and with some volume. Fucking prick and his noise pollution.
Inside the house, I put my grocery bags down on the table next to the sink. Doing so, I knocked over a cup of water someone left there. Water everywhere. All over my groceries, all over the floor, all over me. I cleaned it up, trying to keep calm. I was mostly successful.
In order to drain all the water that got in my grocery bags, I needed to clear out the pile of dishes in the sink. I put some of them on the counter, some on the table. That accomplished, I went upstairs.
I came back down to get some coffee. As I made my way to the kitchen, I heard Rich slamming dishes and silverware around and muttering to himself like the oft miserable prick he is. I decided not to venture into the kitchen at that time. Though I was maintaining ok, I knew it wouldn't take me much to get into some kind of altercation with him.
I had a minor epiphany. What the fuck does it matter to me that Rich is all worked up about something?As far as I could tell, he was either pissed that there was a bunch of dirty dishes in and around the sink and decided to wash them himself so he wouldn't have to look at them anymore, or he was pissed at me because he thought I was pissed at him at him for all the dishes laying about. Oy, ve! Fucking convoluted.
Anyway, the minor epiphany was all about letting go of shit like that. Let Rich stew in his own juices if that's what he's intent on doing. And let Steve roll out the noise parade every waking hour if that is his wont. It's up to me to decide how I react to things outside my control. And all that psycho babble. But, it's true, though. I tried to take heed.
T'wasnt easy, my friends. In my room not long after, I couldn't find my dvd remote. I'd just used the thing earlier in the morning. I looked under my pillows, in my drawers, on the floor, under my blankets. I practically upended the entire room looking for the thing. It was nowhere to be found. In the process of searching, the crotch in my pants, my favorite, most comfortable, pair, ripped.
I laughed. And not in a sardonic way, which would have been apt. No, I just laughed because everything was going wrong -- sure, mostly minor things, but that's why it was so funny. Was I spreading the kind of energy that engenders negative occurrences? Maybe. I've definitely given the idea some thought, which is rife with nuance. Definitely something for a longer post, not this one.
Once I found my remote (it was on the floor beside my bed - I suspect some gremlin-like inter-dimensional creatures have been fucking with me), I called Mara. On the phone with her, my phone started heating up. That was new. I wondered what would happen next.
Hours later, Steve still had the pressure washer going. Kind of interesting he was using a device with the word pressure in it. I was a feeling a bit of it myself at that point.
The day wasn't terrible, but what the fuck? I've had too many like that of late. I've handled them in good stride, I think. I haven't taken to cutting myself or throwing tantrums. Yet. More days like this one and who knows.
Went to bed late, woke up kind of late. Felt as if I didn't get enough sleep, though.
Ate a small breakfast quickly -- wanted to get to the grocery store before it got crowded.
On my way to the store, my car sputtered and heaved, sputtered and heaved. Must have water in the gas line, I thought. Barely made it to the store, which was packed beyond belief. Got my stuff, drove home. Repeat sputter and heave.
At home in the driveway, I wondered how bad the situation was. Was this a sign of something more serious. Would I make it to work ok? What if I need major repairs? For someone barely getting by week to week, financially speaking, these thoughts carried some weight.
Out of the car, I was met with the deep rumbling staccato of Steve's pressure washer. For the last couple of weekends now, he's been parading the thing out. And not for short amounts of time. "Again with this fucking thing!", I lamented out loud and with some volume. Fucking prick and his noise pollution.
Inside the house, I put my grocery bags down on the table next to the sink. Doing so, I knocked over a cup of water someone left there. Water everywhere. All over my groceries, all over the floor, all over me. I cleaned it up, trying to keep calm. I was mostly successful.
In order to drain all the water that got in my grocery bags, I needed to clear out the pile of dishes in the sink. I put some of them on the counter, some on the table. That accomplished, I went upstairs.
I came back down to get some coffee. As I made my way to the kitchen, I heard Rich slamming dishes and silverware around and muttering to himself like the oft miserable prick he is. I decided not to venture into the kitchen at that time. Though I was maintaining ok, I knew it wouldn't take me much to get into some kind of altercation with him.
I had a minor epiphany. What the fuck does it matter to me that Rich is all worked up about something?As far as I could tell, he was either pissed that there was a bunch of dirty dishes in and around the sink and decided to wash them himself so he wouldn't have to look at them anymore, or he was pissed at me because he thought I was pissed at him at him for all the dishes laying about. Oy, ve! Fucking convoluted.
Anyway, the minor epiphany was all about letting go of shit like that. Let Rich stew in his own juices if that's what he's intent on doing. And let Steve roll out the noise parade every waking hour if that is his wont. It's up to me to decide how I react to things outside my control. And all that psycho babble. But, it's true, though. I tried to take heed.
T'wasnt easy, my friends. In my room not long after, I couldn't find my dvd remote. I'd just used the thing earlier in the morning. I looked under my pillows, in my drawers, on the floor, under my blankets. I practically upended the entire room looking for the thing. It was nowhere to be found. In the process of searching, the crotch in my pants, my favorite, most comfortable, pair, ripped.
I laughed. And not in a sardonic way, which would have been apt. No, I just laughed because everything was going wrong -- sure, mostly minor things, but that's why it was so funny. Was I spreading the kind of energy that engenders negative occurrences? Maybe. I've definitely given the idea some thought, which is rife with nuance. Definitely something for a longer post, not this one.
Once I found my remote (it was on the floor beside my bed - I suspect some gremlin-like inter-dimensional creatures have been fucking with me), I called Mara. On the phone with her, my phone started heating up. That was new. I wondered what would happen next.
Hours later, Steve still had the pressure washer going. Kind of interesting he was using a device with the word pressure in it. I was a feeling a bit of it myself at that point.
The day wasn't terrible, but what the fuck? I've had too many like that of late. I've handled them in good stride, I think. I haven't taken to cutting myself or throwing tantrums. Yet. More days like this one and who knows.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Here's where the story ends
It's about two a.m. Craig just left, Spira an hour or so before him. We had gone out for dinner at the burger place in Davis. Had conch balls for the first time in my life. Not bad. I had eaten a salad for dinner earlier, so I only picked at appetizers while Craig and Spira ate their burgers. We hung out at my place afterward. No A Christmas Carol tonight as we had loosely planned, but I'm sure I'll get around to seeing it soon. Or not.
Two bits of pleasing news: 1. Stephen King plans on writing a new Dark Tower novel
2. A Trader Joe's is opening up in Fresh Pond.
It's safe to say Dexter is one of my favorite shows. Initially, before I knew much about the show, I had little interest in watching it. Then I got around to watching an episode and the rest is history.
Book talk:
About three quarters of the way through The Brothers Karamazov. It's really picked up and I'm getting the impression I may want to read it again some day.
Plugging away at Erickson's Reaper's Gale, a fan favorite but one I'm having difficulty with. I think I want to like it more than I do, but saying that I think the best course of action is to reserve judgment until I finish the book.
It may be that I pick up a new novel this weekend. We'll see. I've got a lot of books on the back burner I could give attention to. No need to spend the money on something new. Still....
I think it's about time I give Hamlet another go. Or Macbeth. Or both.
Been thinking back to how wonderful an experience reading Larry McMurtry was. I'm craving a similar experience but haven't been finding it. Maybe that's why he's one of my favorite authors.
Music:
Been listening to a lot of Pink Floyd. Mostly Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here. Because I've been learning Shine On You Crazy Diamond and consequently listening to it a lot, it's constantly in my head. I'm not complaining. What a great song.
Whenever the new Nora Jones song comes on the radio, I smile. It's a fine song, and a little different than her usual stuff. I don't smile, and instead furrow my brow and frown, whenever I hear the likes of Bare Naked Ladies, OAR, Red Hot Chili Peppers (anything after the Dave Navarro record. Almost everything after that is limp-dicked and a waste of time. And Anthony Kiedis's voice is horrible when he tries to get all serious and "sing". No, his voice works best over hyper funk), Goo Goo Dolls, .........ok, enough! I'm getting sick to my stomach writing about these bands.
At this moment, I'm sad I don't have a companion. Ah, well I'm sure she's out there, somewhere, and we'll meet and become inseparable until one of us dies. And even then, even then, our bond will hold.
I hope I meet her soon. I'm tired of the single life.
Going to watch Samurai Rebellion at some point this weekend. And at some point, meaning this point, I'm going to end this and try do other stuff before the need for sleep overtakes me.
Two bits of pleasing news: 1. Stephen King plans on writing a new Dark Tower novel
2. A Trader Joe's is opening up in Fresh Pond.
It's safe to say Dexter is one of my favorite shows. Initially, before I knew much about the show, I had little interest in watching it. Then I got around to watching an episode and the rest is history.
Book talk:
About three quarters of the way through The Brothers Karamazov. It's really picked up and I'm getting the impression I may want to read it again some day.
Plugging away at Erickson's Reaper's Gale, a fan favorite but one I'm having difficulty with. I think I want to like it more than I do, but saying that I think the best course of action is to reserve judgment until I finish the book.
It may be that I pick up a new novel this weekend. We'll see. I've got a lot of books on the back burner I could give attention to. No need to spend the money on something new. Still....
I think it's about time I give Hamlet another go. Or Macbeth. Or both.
Been thinking back to how wonderful an experience reading Larry McMurtry was. I'm craving a similar experience but haven't been finding it. Maybe that's why he's one of my favorite authors.
Music:
Been listening to a lot of Pink Floyd. Mostly Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here. Because I've been learning Shine On You Crazy Diamond and consequently listening to it a lot, it's constantly in my head. I'm not complaining. What a great song.
Whenever the new Nora Jones song comes on the radio, I smile. It's a fine song, and a little different than her usual stuff. I don't smile, and instead furrow my brow and frown, whenever I hear the likes of Bare Naked Ladies, OAR, Red Hot Chili Peppers (anything after the Dave Navarro record. Almost everything after that is limp-dicked and a waste of time. And Anthony Kiedis's voice is horrible when he tries to get all serious and "sing". No, his voice works best over hyper funk), Goo Goo Dolls, .........ok, enough! I'm getting sick to my stomach writing about these bands.
At this moment, I'm sad I don't have a companion. Ah, well I'm sure she's out there, somewhere, and we'll meet and become inseparable until one of us dies. And even then, even then, our bond will hold.
I hope I meet her soon. I'm tired of the single life.
Going to watch Samurai Rebellion at some point this weekend. And at some point, meaning this point, I'm going to end this and try do other stuff before the need for sleep overtakes me.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
That's when the hurdy gurdy man came singing songs of love
Had some drinks with Foley earlier. We talked about songwriting for a bit and then he, in True Foley fashion, told me a convoluted and tangled tale of longing, the likes of which I'd only ever seen in romantic comedies. I hope he gets the girl in the end.
Had a dream last night in which I was engaged in some guerrilla-style warfare in my home town. I don't know what war we were fighting, doesn't matter, but at one point in the dream, I heard some news about a surprise attack that was about to occur at my side's hideaway fortress in the woods. I bounded through the woods, which happened to be behind my parent's house (when I was younger, I used to run at full speed down the hill into those woods with my dog, Mandy.) At every step, we were in danger of hurting ourselves, but we ran with grace and precision.
We made it to the fortress. I told everyone within we were about to be attacked. Sure enough, we heard footsteps at the door. I peaked through the cracks in the wall and saw that it was some of my friends outside. They jokingly tried to force their way in, but I wasn't ready to grant them access, fearing they were the enemies I was told were going to attack the fortress. The last thing I remember, I was jabbing a bayonet at them through the cracks in the wall.
Oddly, I view this as a pleasant dream.
Off to work on music.
Had a dream last night in which I was engaged in some guerrilla-style warfare in my home town. I don't know what war we were fighting, doesn't matter, but at one point in the dream, I heard some news about a surprise attack that was about to occur at my side's hideaway fortress in the woods. I bounded through the woods, which happened to be behind my parent's house (when I was younger, I used to run at full speed down the hill into those woods with my dog, Mandy.) At every step, we were in danger of hurting ourselves, but we ran with grace and precision.
We made it to the fortress. I told everyone within we were about to be attacked. Sure enough, we heard footsteps at the door. I peaked through the cracks in the wall and saw that it was some of my friends outside. They jokingly tried to force their way in, but I wasn't ready to grant them access, fearing they were the enemies I was told were going to attack the fortress. The last thing I remember, I was jabbing a bayonet at them through the cracks in the wall.
Oddly, I view this as a pleasant dream.
Off to work on music.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Swan, swan, hummingbird, hurrah!, we are all free now
A productive weekend, music wise. It was slow going, always is when I'm work on lyrics, but I got some stuff done. I also watched a bunch of Dexter episodes. I am truly impressed with the construction of this show. I wish more shows were this well done. I still have a ways to go before I catch up to Mara and Jessica, her roommate, but at the rate I'm going, I'll be ahead of them in no time.
I also watched Ghost Town, which turned out to be pretty good. I wouldn't have rented it if Ricky Gervais hadn't been the lead. Greg Kinnear and Tea Leoni were also in it and were very good. If it wasn't for those three, it would have been slightly less than average. You know who else was in it that was funny was... oh, shoot, she's on SNL....really talented and hot....Kristin Wig? I think that's her name. Anyway, she made me chuckle.
Jessica was asking me about my perverted neighbor Stan. Turns out he has a room right next to her in the Vernon Street studios and has been trying to assemble a group of artists for some reason or other. "Shall we begin with the chronic nudity?", I asked.
It was Open Studios this weekend and I passed Stan's room on my way to visit Jessica. I thought about stopping in, but decided against it. As far as he's concerned, I don't exist. I don't have the necessary accoutrements, so to speak, to garner his attention. Janelle, and all the other women on our block he's taken a perverted shine to, can have him. Sorry, ladies.
I hung with Jessica for a bit. She's a gifted painter and has moved on to weaving. She doesn't fool around, this one. She went out and bought a ginormous loom off someone and assembled it, in all its intricate detail, using only faded polaroid pictures of it put together.
She gave me a tutorial on how to weave. Very interesting. I came to the conclusion, and I'm pretty sure she has to, that, under a different set of circumstances, we'd probably hook up in some capacity. Considering she has a boyfriend and I used to go out with her roommate, not much is likely to happen.
Tonight, I'm going to finish watching High & Low, Kurosawa's adaptation of Ed McBain's novel, Kings Ransom. Great movie. Mifune, like in most every film he was in, rocks the hizzy. Oh, and of course there will be some Dexter.
And, maybe I'll read from Erickson's Reaper's Gale, a book I've returned to after putting it down a few months ago. Even though I'm about seven books into the series, I'm still not sure how I feel about his writing. If I haven't yet, I'm not sure I ever will.
I went to the book store in Porter Square yesterday and almost picked up Bill Simmon's Book of Basketball, but when I saw that it went for thirty smackers, I quickly nixed that idea. Same went for Robert Jordan's The Gathering Storm and Daniel Abraham's The Price Of Spring. I've got enough books to keep me busy for a while. Perhaps when I've got some extra change, I'll shell out the cash. It will be worth it. Reading is good for the mind.
Going to try and assemble some people to go see Scrooge some time this week. If I go, it'll be my first ever 3D movie! Ooh la la.
I also watched Ghost Town, which turned out to be pretty good. I wouldn't have rented it if Ricky Gervais hadn't been the lead. Greg Kinnear and Tea Leoni were also in it and were very good. If it wasn't for those three, it would have been slightly less than average. You know who else was in it that was funny was... oh, shoot, she's on SNL....really talented and hot....Kristin Wig? I think that's her name. Anyway, she made me chuckle.
Jessica was asking me about my perverted neighbor Stan. Turns out he has a room right next to her in the Vernon Street studios and has been trying to assemble a group of artists for some reason or other. "Shall we begin with the chronic nudity?", I asked.
It was Open Studios this weekend and I passed Stan's room on my way to visit Jessica. I thought about stopping in, but decided against it. As far as he's concerned, I don't exist. I don't have the necessary accoutrements, so to speak, to garner his attention. Janelle, and all the other women on our block he's taken a perverted shine to, can have him. Sorry, ladies.
I hung with Jessica for a bit. She's a gifted painter and has moved on to weaving. She doesn't fool around, this one. She went out and bought a ginormous loom off someone and assembled it, in all its intricate detail, using only faded polaroid pictures of it put together.
She gave me a tutorial on how to weave. Very interesting. I came to the conclusion, and I'm pretty sure she has to, that, under a different set of circumstances, we'd probably hook up in some capacity. Considering she has a boyfriend and I used to go out with her roommate, not much is likely to happen.
Tonight, I'm going to finish watching High & Low, Kurosawa's adaptation of Ed McBain's novel, Kings Ransom. Great movie. Mifune, like in most every film he was in, rocks the hizzy. Oh, and of course there will be some Dexter.
And, maybe I'll read from Erickson's Reaper's Gale, a book I've returned to after putting it down a few months ago. Even though I'm about seven books into the series, I'm still not sure how I feel about his writing. If I haven't yet, I'm not sure I ever will.
I went to the book store in Porter Square yesterday and almost picked up Bill Simmon's Book of Basketball, but when I saw that it went for thirty smackers, I quickly nixed that idea. Same went for Robert Jordan's The Gathering Storm and Daniel Abraham's The Price Of Spring. I've got enough books to keep me busy for a while. Perhaps when I've got some extra change, I'll shell out the cash. It will be worth it. Reading is good for the mind.
Going to try and assemble some people to go see Scrooge some time this week. If I go, it'll be my first ever 3D movie! Ooh la la.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sing a song, don't be long, thrill me to the marrow
The computer is still being attacked by Spyware, probably always will -- it knows my IP address and will keep trying to get in -- but, so far, it's been manageable. Happy that I'm back online again, but it's frustrating.
At least on sports radio, the phrase that has replaced "it is what it is", is "going forward". Not as profound, to be sure, but everyone is saying it. "Going forward, the Red Sox need to sign a pitcher"."Going forward, they'll have to keep an eye on Garnett's knees." "Going forward, someone should think of something different to say when speaking in the future tense, you know, just to mix it up a bit.
I've got at least six or seven new songs that I'm really pleased with. Just finished lyrics for one, which is called " Your Dark Regard", and hope to have a few more finished in the coming days (see, I avoided saying "going forward" -- it's easy). When it comes to writing and performing music, that's when I'm in my element. It's one of the few things I excel at, that I feel confident doing. I think I'm just about as good at it than anyone else, professional or otherwise. Yeah, son!
Attended a dinner party the other night with Mara, two painters, and a scientist. Guess what we talked about? Well, a lot of things, but we spent a good amount of time discussing creative ways to murder people. And, no, I didn't introduce the subject. It was a good time. We had beef fajitas, in case you were wondering.
Reading from The Brothers Karamazov today at lunch, I came to the realization that I'll probably still be reading the book when Christmas arrives. I'm about halfway through it and I started...shoot, I can't remember when I started reading it. Probably a couple of months ago. It's a good read, but man is it dense.
I'm about three quarters of the way through The Franklin Scandal and have been reading from Brett's The Warded Man, which is kind of tough going but I want to finish it. The writing is barely above adequate. Maybe it'll get better as I get deeper into it.
Man, I love Baby Boy Z. He's such a good pooch. And he's one of the lowest maintenance ones I've ever come across. Cheers, Poochy Bottoms!
Enjoying the Celtics season so far. They're deeper this year; I really like their bench. We'll see, as the season progresses how much stamina they have.
Ok, I've fallen way behind in Dexter and Six Feet Under episodes. Need to remedy that starting tonight. Mara's ahead of me regarding Dexter and, according to her, I need to hurry up, because things just keep getting better and better. I'll give it the ol' college try, I will.
At least on sports radio, the phrase that has replaced "it is what it is", is "going forward". Not as profound, to be sure, but everyone is saying it. "Going forward, the Red Sox need to sign a pitcher"."Going forward, they'll have to keep an eye on Garnett's knees." "Going forward, someone should think of something different to say when speaking in the future tense, you know, just to mix it up a bit.
I've got at least six or seven new songs that I'm really pleased with. Just finished lyrics for one, which is called " Your Dark Regard", and hope to have a few more finished in the coming days (see, I avoided saying "going forward" -- it's easy). When it comes to writing and performing music, that's when I'm in my element. It's one of the few things I excel at, that I feel confident doing. I think I'm just about as good at it than anyone else, professional or otherwise. Yeah, son!
Attended a dinner party the other night with Mara, two painters, and a scientist. Guess what we talked about? Well, a lot of things, but we spent a good amount of time discussing creative ways to murder people. And, no, I didn't introduce the subject. It was a good time. We had beef fajitas, in case you were wondering.
Reading from The Brothers Karamazov today at lunch, I came to the realization that I'll probably still be reading the book when Christmas arrives. I'm about halfway through it and I started...shoot, I can't remember when I started reading it. Probably a couple of months ago. It's a good read, but man is it dense.
I'm about three quarters of the way through The Franklin Scandal and have been reading from Brett's The Warded Man, which is kind of tough going but I want to finish it. The writing is barely above adequate. Maybe it'll get better as I get deeper into it.
Man, I love Baby Boy Z. He's such a good pooch. And he's one of the lowest maintenance ones I've ever come across. Cheers, Poochy Bottoms!
Enjoying the Celtics season so far. They're deeper this year; I really like their bench. We'll see, as the season progresses how much stamina they have.
Ok, I've fallen way behind in Dexter and Six Feet Under episodes. Need to remedy that starting tonight. Mara's ahead of me regarding Dexter and, according to her, I need to hurry up, because things just keep getting better and better. I'll give it the ol' college try, I will.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Back in the saddle again
I'm back. Did you miss me? I didn't think so. Anyway, if you'll allow the comparison, I was Jesus and my computer was Lazarus with respect to how I got it functioning again. I won't go into how I did it, except to say it wasn't due to my expertise. More, it was trial and error.
My computer was really fucked up. At one point I couldn't even get into safe mode. Through a bizarre chain of events, I couldn't get in touch with Mike, who usually helps me with computer related stuff, so I was left to my own devices. Needless to say, I wasn't optimistic my computer would be functioning in the near future, if at all. But I'm back, so lets venture onward, shall we.
Leading up to my computer being hijacked, things weren't going so well. Losing the computer felt like a cruel joke and throughout the course of the following week, I felt like I had fallen into a dark abyss. Actually, it wasn't as dramatic as that, but I was out of touch, and not just because I lacked Internet access (which, for the record, I did have, if minimally, thanks to Janelle, who let me use her Mac when she wasn't home).
Not having the Internet sucked. I experienced withdrawal symptoms, which was odd because I don't use the Internet that much. But, when you don't have it, you miss it. Even though I'd spent most of my life without the Internet, I felt like I was lacking something substantial. And, in a way I was. We depend on the Internet for a lot these days.
I ended up watching more TV, which made me miss the Internet even more. I haven't watched TV on a regular basis for years now. I barely ever turn it on. I was reminded why over the course of the last week.
I'd turn the TV on while eating breakfast and by the time I would finish eating, I'd feel depressed. My mistake was to put the "news" on. Oh, dear. What a horror show. "Seven toddlers were found stabbed to death in their Newton home last night." " A mother of four was stabbed in the face repeatedly and then crucified on a makeshift cross outside the Walmart in Lynn last night. Her attacker is still on the loose and will most likely find his way into your home and do even worse things to you and everyone you care about." "This just in: You will never ever be safe as long as you walk this Earth. Most likely you will die a horrible, bloody death after experiencing years of hardship and toil. And don't forget you heard it here first."
And then there were the phonies on the talk shows. I felt like committing Seppuku. The other thing that irked me was the staggering amount of commercials. I can't tell you how many times I'd turn the tube on just to have something on in the background while I put my laundry away or something similar only to find every other station was showing commercials. Here's how it went:
1. Oh, cool, The Office is on.
2. Ten seconds into it, they break for commercial.
3. I stop what I'm doing and channel surf.
4. Oh, Scrubs is on. Oh, wait, they've gone to commercial, too.
5. Surf some more.
6. MASH is on. Shit, it's one of the later ones. Oh, well, better than commercials.
7. MASH immediately breaks for commercials.
8. They're showing Twister on TBS. I think that movie has been on every week on one channel or another for the last several years. Nope, I think I'll see if The Office is back from break.
9. Cool, it's back! Oh, wait, it's the end of the episode. They just showed three or four minutes worth of commercials when there was only about forty seconds of show left. Fuck.
10. TV off. Should have just thrown a DVD in.
If I had Tivo, I wouldn't have had those issues, but I'm not going down the Tivo road just yet. So, yes, I'm glad I've got my Internet back. Now I can watch Dexter, and all sorts of other good stuff commercial free. And by other good stuff, I mean porn.
Ciao.
My computer was really fucked up. At one point I couldn't even get into safe mode. Through a bizarre chain of events, I couldn't get in touch with Mike, who usually helps me with computer related stuff, so I was left to my own devices. Needless to say, I wasn't optimistic my computer would be functioning in the near future, if at all. But I'm back, so lets venture onward, shall we.
Leading up to my computer being hijacked, things weren't going so well. Losing the computer felt like a cruel joke and throughout the course of the following week, I felt like I had fallen into a dark abyss. Actually, it wasn't as dramatic as that, but I was out of touch, and not just because I lacked Internet access (which, for the record, I did have, if minimally, thanks to Janelle, who let me use her Mac when she wasn't home).
Not having the Internet sucked. I experienced withdrawal symptoms, which was odd because I don't use the Internet that much. But, when you don't have it, you miss it. Even though I'd spent most of my life without the Internet, I felt like I was lacking something substantial. And, in a way I was. We depend on the Internet for a lot these days.
I ended up watching more TV, which made me miss the Internet even more. I haven't watched TV on a regular basis for years now. I barely ever turn it on. I was reminded why over the course of the last week.
I'd turn the TV on while eating breakfast and by the time I would finish eating, I'd feel depressed. My mistake was to put the "news" on. Oh, dear. What a horror show. "Seven toddlers were found stabbed to death in their Newton home last night." " A mother of four was stabbed in the face repeatedly and then crucified on a makeshift cross outside the Walmart in Lynn last night. Her attacker is still on the loose and will most likely find his way into your home and do even worse things to you and everyone you care about." "This just in: You will never ever be safe as long as you walk this Earth. Most likely you will die a horrible, bloody death after experiencing years of hardship and toil. And don't forget you heard it here first."
And then there were the phonies on the talk shows. I felt like committing Seppuku. The other thing that irked me was the staggering amount of commercials. I can't tell you how many times I'd turn the tube on just to have something on in the background while I put my laundry away or something similar only to find every other station was showing commercials. Here's how it went:
1. Oh, cool, The Office is on.
2. Ten seconds into it, they break for commercial.
3. I stop what I'm doing and channel surf.
4. Oh, Scrubs is on. Oh, wait, they've gone to commercial, too.
5. Surf some more.
6. MASH is on. Shit, it's one of the later ones. Oh, well, better than commercials.
7. MASH immediately breaks for commercials.
8. They're showing Twister on TBS. I think that movie has been on every week on one channel or another for the last several years. Nope, I think I'll see if The Office is back from break.
9. Cool, it's back! Oh, wait, it's the end of the episode. They just showed three or four minutes worth of commercials when there was only about forty seconds of show left. Fuck.
10. TV off. Should have just thrown a DVD in.
If I had Tivo, I wouldn't have had those issues, but I'm not going down the Tivo road just yet. So, yes, I'm glad I've got my Internet back. Now I can watch Dexter, and all sorts of other good stuff commercial free. And by other good stuff, I mean porn.
Ciao.
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