Greetings to the Depraved and Sleep Deprived;

Let me begin by saying that I am technologically challenged (and might I add, financially challenged as a result), so creating a blog is a bit out of character for me. On the other hand, nighttime mania, my unfortunate superpower, allows me to think and act in mystifying ways. Thus the birth of my crippled brainchild. The following content is unapologetic, crass, and certainly not politically correct. So if you have a proclivity towards Hallmark, Disney, and tact--or if your circadian rhythms are like a velvety Beethoven symphony --this may not be the blog for you. For all of you unfortunate, standing and pleading at the gates of R.E.M.; you, white-knuckled while awaiting your Ambien prescription refill; you, counting endless sheep--so many that you could felt around the world...Welcome. It is nice to finally have some company.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Daily Observations and Ruminations...

  • My desire to prevent bad things from happening:  The idea of children...having them, caring for them, watching them grow...rarely crosses my mind.  This is a good thing, and here's why:  everytime I see a child, he/she is doing something unsafe, with a parent casually and calmly overlooking.  I feel my body and throat tighten.  My arms start to extend, my hands begin to desparately clench, and my mouth yearns to reprimand.  I feel like I become unnerved--on edge--just waiting for a skull to crack, a lip to split, an infant death.  And the worse of it is, I feel advancely responsible.  If I have had the thought and not shared it--or acted on it--the fault automatically lies with me.  In fact, I must have contributed by witholding my divine interpretations.  These unwanted thoughts are far too pesky for me to seriously consider procreation.  I would have to take up residence in an inflatable bounce house, make frequent trips to Costco for family packs of Lysol wipes, count bowel movements, fashion latex full-body panchos, and stay up all night recording the child's sleep patterns.  I feel myself suffocating just thinking about it.  I think I'll opt for a dog. 

  • Odd Visuals:  Asian men with muscles:  I am not speaking about the Jackie Chan variety.  I consider that musculature...toning...the healthy result of martial arts and kicking ass.  I am speaking to a different breed of Asian men.  The smaller statured, translucent-skinned, hairless variety.  So delicate, they resemble Victorian-era children.  When you add the muscles, their arms look like egg noodles strategically tied off with rubber bands.  Awkward bulges, deflated calves, skinny ankles, pasty, no.  Just stop.  Please do not run through Golden Gate Park with your perfectly matched Nike spandex gear, your iPod banded to your arm like a blood pressure cuff, and your reflective sneakers (your skin is reflective enough).  If you want to follow this path, with a semblance of gymnastics, where your physical awkwardness will be met and well-received. 

  • The desire to be part of a team:  I have these moments when I watch people coming together, working together, and laughing together, and I think, "Wow.  That sure looks like a feel-good, underdog movie.  I wouldn't mind interpersonally relating like that..."  Which leads me to generate a cost/benefit analysis.  Benefits:  support, encouragement, others to blame when something goes wrong, respect, diversity, more facebook friends.  Costs:  letting go, listening, being agreeable, letting go, being reliable, sacrifice, personality differences, not being found as amusing as I find myself, sharing responsibility, letting go, making friends so that I have to consider creating a facebook, getting kicked off of the team. Conclusions:  while the desire to team up and participate may be strong at times, the reality is even stronger and undeniable: other people are hard to trust, especially when their ideas are not as good as yours.

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