Autumn Interlude

Its gonna get down to fifty something tonight. The details are unimportant. It is finally starting to cool off! Huzzah! The windows are open, the flannel pants broken out, and totally rocking a martini.

That and House. The Invention of Lying looks hilarious. I probably should have chosen bourbon for tonight, but a martini just sounded so nice. I should make some blueberry muffins. Gonna snow at home in a day or two. Jealous. Boise State is ranked #5! Amazed, ecstatic, and guarded. I am inordinately amused by the prolonged ball jokes in House just now. Coffee is still good.

Probably going through what has been my longest recurring daydream/actual dream in at least the past several years. Odd, but intriguing nonetheless.

I really love my legal pads and pens. Something about the written word is alluring, and especially when its my writing. Most of you should know the absolute love affair I have with my handwriting. I think one, perhaps two people actually had that affair too. Scandalous! I kind of miss my beard for the sheer reason that I could have it. Its not the lack of choice that is bugging me precisely, but the jealousy of a friend being able to grow one with impunity.

Brianna (the Younger, neighbor’s youngest) has definitely shown me what having a daughter would be like. I am now in full agreement that having a daughter is God’s revenge on you for being a man. Thirteen from House is still hot as hell. Brianna is an infuriating mix of intelligence, sarcasm, adorable/cute/whatever, and and sheer determination. Qualities, all, that I find attractive in women. Thankfully she is thirteen, and that I see her as a daughter. That was an unintended parallel. I had not originally intended to talk about this subject.

I am extremely happy that I can be somewhat self aware. I have done a great deal of rereading of my poor, undernourished blog. General conclusions: I really do miss Gretchen. Puneet was best relationship because she actually could stand up to me. I am fairly overwhelming to most people.. not in any particular fashion, just a bit too much to handle. I am fairly sure I have a mild case of mania. When I say stand up to me, I more meant keep up with me. This is something I have only recently become aware of.

I just ignored an obvious.. terribly obvious.. thinly veiled, actually, invitation to participate in horizontal movement. Something to be said for morals, conscience, guilt, or any combination thereof.

Perhaps, though, the largest conclusion I can draw from my rereading of the posts is that I miss one thing emphatically – a place where I can unashamedly peruse my thoughts and to, by the nature of public publishing, solicit comments from friends, family, and crazy internet people. The first would be new, the second underused, and the third often hilarious. I know why I made a resolution to stop putting up such posts. I also know now that I was wrong. I should do so.

For four years old, this marks my longest stretch of continuously inhabited internet space. I hope to extend that streak. I am quite content here. I just wish I had records of a more historic nature.. the Xanga 1/2, and, more importantly, 2/2. I do, thankfully, have what writing I have actually done squirreled away on a portable hard drive.

Writing for Gretchen was a treat. Writing for myself.. well, let us say that in the reconsidering, it is stronger than I could have possibly hoped for. Writing for others.. well, not so much of it done. I have no muse. Narcissism at its finest I suppose. I like salad. I really like thousand island and vidalia onion vinaigrette. Not together, of course. Exes are fairly transparent when they talk to you again out of nowhere. This is regardless of the information I already possess which likely governs her actions.

This is also (part) of why I do not talk to Gretchen again directly. Other reasons abound, but chief amoung them is an inability to talk to her again. I really do miss her friendship more than anything. Actually I really miss the ability to talk about what I think and feel with someone. No one now fills that void. Joshua should repatriate. I have, surprising, made some damn decent friends while in the Army. Well, I guess not terribly surprising. In the end, I am rather social. Lord knows, at the very least, I can talk forever. Gift from my mother and grandfather.

I will compromise on the martini matter – it is now bourbon time. Just a small one, and a night cap at that, but important nonetheless. I had a silly feud with myself and another friend, which was entirely self contained. Needless to say, it was a silly week of silence. I guess I am just somewhat put out that I am always the first person to talk to people, and few talk to me first. It is both natural by now and somewhat disheartening. I should just accept it, but never quite have. I guess I like being lazy .

It can hardly be an interlude when autumn has barely begun. I guess a more accurate title would either be The Day That Never Comes or Sad But True. Both Metallica, and both excellent. I miss chilling with Sean. You would be forgiven if you assume that was meant to be my brother. I do miss him also, but he is in no way linked to Metallica.

Ra Ra Riot is playing tomorrow night up in Atlanta. I might just spend the cash and go. I really should.