Monday, February 18, 2002

Just a quick war-related note. Go check out the latest article by Matt Welch at Reason. It's an attempt to find some hard numbers when it comes to the effects of U.N. sanctions against Iraq. If you've got a stake in U.S. foreign policy (and we all do) and have any concern for truth (and we all should), then read this article.
Hey, this may be come across as a little insecure, but if you see this, drop me an email, okay? I'm a little curious to see if anyone's actually reading this crap.
Well, another Valentine's has safely gone the way of the dodo. I came into work Friday morning, and the guy in the next cube said, "You know, Valentine's Day sucks when you don't have a girlfriend." I guess that's pretty much the core of it all, huh?

Let's see, what else is there? The bed is finished, and I'm happy to report that I don't spend too much time fixating on the things that didn't quite turn out right. In fact, I hardly notice the bed at all, since most of the time that I'm in it, I'm looking at the ceiling, or asleep. And the bedroom is gradually coming into shape. Meanwhile, the kitchen is trashed. This is three weekends in a row of destructive kitchen projects with insufficient cleanup time. First it was brewing beer (first batch in almost a year, and it turned out quite drinkable), then the next weekend I had to bottle it, and then this weekend I made ice cream for a dinner party a friend was throwing. So I'm going home over lunch to clean up.

If there is anyone actually reading this, then I would like to point out at this point that this is one of the great advantages to living in a small town: it takes me five minutes to get home from work, so if I want to run home and do dishes on my lunch hour, I can.

Monday, February 11, 2002

I will be so glad when it's Friday and this particular Valentine's day has been relegated to the dustbin of history. I spent the first 22 years of my life more or less dreading Valentine's Day, then spent 9 years looking forward to the opportunity for Carrie and I to get a little goofy and perhaps slightly competitive in our quest to show how much we loved each other. I don't want to go back to dreading it, or become one of those stereotypical bitter single people bitching about Valentine's Day, but the fact is that, for the past month, every time I've opened a web browser, turned on the television or listened to the radio, I've been reminded of the fact that I don't get to shower anyone with love this year, and I won't have anyone showering me with love.

Yeah, I've got love in my life. An abundance of it, actually, but I'm not first on anyone's list anymore. I'm not swimming in the river of romantic love, I'm sitting on the sidelines, because I've just swallowed a big chunk of grief, and I'm not supposed to go back in the water for at least a half an hour or so. (I'm practicing for the Hallmark's annual "worst metaphor" contest.) And I don't need to be reminded of it by fucking commercials. Life does a good enough job as it is, at least a few times a day.

So, no, I'm not bitter, nor am I angry, nor do I begrudge any couple their happiness. But I will be glad when it's Friday. Well, actually, I'll probably be glad when it's Saturday, because the odds are good I'll be hung over on Friday.

Monday, February 04, 2002

I'm at work, and actually have work to do, so I'll keep this short. But I promised myself I'd post on a regular basis, and I sort of had Sunday night in mind as the night when I would post no matter what. But I got busy. It's been bothering me for a while that the bedroom is still pretty much exactly in the same shape as it was when Carrie was still living with me. It seemed, I don't know...symbolic. So I've been thinking for a while about redecorating a little bit, and yesterday was the day for it. So I got out the graph paper, mapped out the room and made little paper cutouts of the furniture (I know, I'm a geek, but it's a good way to visualize a plan), then figured out where I wanted to put things. It fairly quickly became obvious that what I had in mind simply wouldn't work with the headboard Carrie found at a garage sale. No stress. I didn't have a headboard for most of my life, I just won't have one again. But I didn't just want to have the mattress and box spring setting on that damn metal frame they give you at the mattress store.

So I built a bed, and was up till about midnight putting on the first coat of stain.

It's weird. I always liked messing around with tools, and making things, but I never really let myself get into it when Carrie and I were married. I've built more stuff since she left than I did in the almost nine years we were together. Some of it is that I've got time, some is that I've got space, and some is that I need to replace stuff, but I think there's a psychological element as well. Hmmm.
Why blog, you ask? Blog is a verb, right?

I'm blogging because I want to think out loud electronically, because I had a web site for years and never updated it, because I miss writing for an audience, because I need the practice, or maybe just because I'm an ego-obsessed, insecure attention freak and now that I'm living alone I need to do something to make me think the world notices my presence. Anyway, thanks to Matt Welch for giving me an example of what good a blog can do. Of course, he's writing about world affairs and politics, and there is actual knowledge, erudition and matters of import in his blog, while mine will likely be the mental equivalent of Cheez Puffs, but I still sorta want to give him some credit.
Well, here we go, yet another experiment in self-indulgence going live...

Sunday, February 03, 2002



2/3/2006
I needed a picture to go with my profile, and this seemed like the easiest way to get it online. I'm going to hide it back in the archives, though, just for appearances sake.