Lack of will or desire. The clock says 4:44. It means something. Nothing at all. Any moment he'll walk through that door in front of me.
And so he does. Love.
Tuesday, September 24, 2002
Tuesday, September 17, 2002
Kim's Letter
Mom came home early. VERY EARLY. I've been up since 5:30am because of the noise created when she arrived home.
I've decided to use my writing time today to respond to an e-mail from Kim. Here we go:
==========================
How cute. Adorable. Darling. Have you heard all of these descriptors in response to your children's pictures? I remember a time when we would make fun of people who doted on their kids in such a way, but it's an obvious inevitability when you love children so much. ((By the way, I do think the pictures have been precious. Please keep them coming.))
Were you getting postcards in the mail right up until a few days before the 10yr reunion? When I got mine I wondered what the turnout was going to be like if they were still advertising that late. Do you know of anyone who went? I've heard nothing about the Queen Mary rendezvous. Did anyone drown? Maybe I should e-mail Margaret for a re-cap.
I'm actually writing you from the "writing lab" here at school. I'm getting .5 units for spending 16 hours in here this semester. I originally signed up because my English professor was giving 1/2 a grade add-on for any papers that we wrote while "conferencing" with one of the writing lab instructors. I've subsequently dropped the English class, but the focused time alone here is nice for catching up on e-mail, keeping my journal entries and working on short stories, novel chapters, poetry. My writing still goes in spurts; nothing regularly produced. I've been meaning to write ever since the birth announcement. VOILA! Here it is. And I find myself wondering what I'm typing.
I think my delay has been that I'm never one for small talk. We had a small party at the apartment about a month ago and there were a lot of people who showed up that I didn't know. Randy is good at being social and "working the crowd" so to speak, whereas I'm keeping this partial fake smile on my face and nodding while I listen to inane details of their day. My anti-social veneer is more prevalent here at school. I have a morning class so most of the people are just coming out of high school. The conversations that I overhear! I know I'm old because I have that thought, "Did I talk like that when I was THAT age?" And it doesn't feel like that long ago to me. My mom says that it never will. She turns 50 this year and she expressed how even though she can see a difference in the mirror, inside she still feels young. So perhaps I'll always be a cynic inside. Always a little dreamer. Always part smart-ass.
So as we grow older, do you find that common "adult" conversations center around:
1) kids (or pets if people don't have kids)
2) careers
3) money (credit cards, home loans, buying homes, refinancing,cars, bikes boats...etc)
4) health (doctor visits, diseases, "that something that is going-around-the-office)
I can't escape one of these conversations in a day----OH, unless I partake in one that the 18yr olds are having here in class. Haha. But somehow the importance of regular jeans or faded jeans never really hit me as something I'd want to talk about. ((And still don't)) I came back to school to keep plugging away at and some where get up to near 120 units. I have 24. =) I'll have 29.5 at the end of this semester. Typing that right now even made a smile go across my face as I'm typing. It's funny how little I've done with education and how "full of promise" I was when receiving a high school diploma. I was discussing careers with Randy and I don't think there's anything that I WANT to do for any long period of time. I fear that teaching may be the same way. ((The running joke now is that by the time I get my B.A. I'll be retired and teaching will be something I do in my spare time.)) I took my CBEST test in April and passed. It was a joke. I haven't had a math class since Junior year with Ledvorowski and I'm taking College Alegebra right now. It's a M-Th class. I show up once a week just to let the professor know I'm still there and the material all feels like review. It's amazing what I remember. And each time I remember, I still have that secondary thought, "WHEN IN REAL LIFE AM I EVER GOING TO USE THIS SHIT?!" I think having experienced 10 years of real life now I'm justified whereas in high school I was just bewildered with the prospect of more homework.
Rant rant rant...
I hope you're staying healthy(4) and that your kids are well(1). When do you go back to work(2)? Back already? Hmm....I didn't ask about money(3), but some people are weird about that stuff, I've learned. ((So it's impolite to ask...))
SERIOUSLY. You stay in my thoughts. I'm glad you're doing well.
love ALL-ways,
j.r.me
I've decided to use my writing time today to respond to an e-mail from Kim. Here we go:
==========================
How cute. Adorable. Darling. Have you heard all of these descriptors in response to your children's pictures? I remember a time when we would make fun of people who doted on their kids in such a way, but it's an obvious inevitability when you love children so much. ((By the way, I do think the pictures have been precious. Please keep them coming.))
Were you getting postcards in the mail right up until a few days before the 10yr reunion? When I got mine I wondered what the turnout was going to be like if they were still advertising that late. Do you know of anyone who went? I've heard nothing about the Queen Mary rendezvous. Did anyone drown? Maybe I should e-mail Margaret for a re-cap.
I'm actually writing you from the "writing lab" here at school. I'm getting .5 units for spending 16 hours in here this semester. I originally signed up because my English professor was giving 1/2 a grade add-on for any papers that we wrote while "conferencing" with one of the writing lab instructors. I've subsequently dropped the English class, but the focused time alone here is nice for catching up on e-mail, keeping my journal entries and working on short stories, novel chapters, poetry. My writing still goes in spurts; nothing regularly produced. I've been meaning to write ever since the birth announcement. VOILA! Here it is. And I find myself wondering what I'm typing.
I think my delay has been that I'm never one for small talk. We had a small party at the apartment about a month ago and there were a lot of people who showed up that I didn't know. Randy is good at being social and "working the crowd" so to speak, whereas I'm keeping this partial fake smile on my face and nodding while I listen to inane details of their day. My anti-social veneer is more prevalent here at school. I have a morning class so most of the people are just coming out of high school. The conversations that I overhear! I know I'm old because I have that thought, "Did I talk like that when I was THAT age?" And it doesn't feel like that long ago to me. My mom says that it never will. She turns 50 this year and she expressed how even though she can see a difference in the mirror, inside she still feels young. So perhaps I'll always be a cynic inside. Always a little dreamer. Always part smart-ass.
So as we grow older, do you find that common "adult" conversations center around:
1) kids (or pets if people don't have kids)
2) careers
3) money (credit cards, home loans, buying homes, refinancing,cars, bikes boats...etc)
4) health (doctor visits, diseases, "that something that is going-around-the-office)
I can't escape one of these conversations in a day----OH, unless I partake in one that the 18yr olds are having here in class. Haha. But somehow the importance of regular jeans or faded jeans never really hit me as something I'd want to talk about. ((And still don't)) I came back to school to keep plugging away at and some where get up to near 120 units. I have 24. =) I'll have 29.5 at the end of this semester. Typing that right now even made a smile go across my face as I'm typing. It's funny how little I've done with education and how "full of promise" I was when receiving a high school diploma. I was discussing careers with Randy and I don't think there's anything that I WANT to do for any long period of time. I fear that teaching may be the same way. ((The running joke now is that by the time I get my B.A. I'll be retired and teaching will be something I do in my spare time.)) I took my CBEST test in April and passed. It was a joke. I haven't had a math class since Junior year with Ledvorowski and I'm taking College Alegebra right now. It's a M-Th class. I show up once a week just to let the professor know I'm still there and the material all feels like review. It's amazing what I remember. And each time I remember, I still have that secondary thought, "WHEN IN REAL LIFE AM I EVER GOING TO USE THIS SHIT?!" I think having experienced 10 years of real life now I'm justified whereas in high school I was just bewildered with the prospect of more homework.
Rant rant rant...
I hope you're staying healthy(4) and that your kids are well(1). When do you go back to work(2)? Back already? Hmm....I didn't ask about money(3), but some people are weird about that stuff, I've learned. ((So it's impolite to ask...))
SERIOUSLY. You stay in my thoughts. I'm glad you're doing well.
love ALL-ways,
j.r.me
Thursday, September 12, 2002
Writing Lab 1
***here's laughter. I just spent the last 20 minutes writing an entry and knew I hadn't saved it when I clicked on EDIT YOUR PROFILE. I could kick myself***
I enrolled in this "Writing Conference" class. You put in 16 hours of "conference" time at this lab I'm sitting in and the school rewards you with .5units and the word PASS on your transcript. You don't even have to actually "conference" with an instructor--as proven by this solitary act of using the online computers to journal my thoughts. I originally enrolled because my English instructor noted anyone taking the conference class and using the tools/instructors to write an essay would get 1/2 grade higher on any paper turned in. It turns out that I didn't want to READ & WRITE this semester so I dropped the English class but I kept this one. Part of me figures that it's a good opportunity to try and focus on some of my own writing projects. Will I?
In the last week, I wrote two more songs for Closer To Legal, "Darwin" and "That Way." That brings the total up to three, four if I can work the you last entry into something workable. Is this another dream of mine that will never drip ripe its fruition? I dare not quash the small endeavors that keep my fire alive inside. SAVE POINT UNO (I'm getting smart this time.) Randy & I are staying at my mom's house until next Wednesday. She and Jim have driven up to Seattle to visit Grandpa & Grandma Jean. Sarah is in her second week of high school. A Freshman. So grown up, so young still. She has so much insecurity and yet I can see the woman beginning to form opinions with her Hot Topic t-shirt reading "Prom Is Dumb" and her star shot shoelaces. It's nice having a washer/dryer so accessible. I miss this part of domestic living. I don't miss the clutter that my mom seems to collect everywhere. I don't miss the animals and the hair they leave everywhere, nor cleaning up the "messes" they make. It will be a different week for us and I'm sure we'll both be glad to be in our own bed just as fast as we can. Yesterday I took Sarah to a doctor appointment. Randy accompanied us. I liked that hey came. We grow more and more domestic as the months pass. Soon my birthday will be here and two years will have graced us. (As we gracefully fell back to the arms of grace--haha) We all walked into the waiting room of the doctor's office and found it to be quite full. Noise. Kids running. Noise. Parents calling. Noise. Nurses calling. Noise noise noise noise. I want kids? We sat down and there was the table in front of us with magazines, kiddie books. A man was talking to a little girl on the other side of the table. It wasn't odd at first, but I noticed that he had his feet on the table, elevated, resting, as if it were an ottoman(sp?) at home. When I glanced again, I could see that he wasn't wearing any shoes and his bare feet were on the magazines AND one foot wasn't regular color. It was Orange with green spots. I looked at Randy and psychically we exchanged the same thought. (His was auidbly louder than mine.) Sarah soon saw and was trying not to laugh. The man and girl eventually left. We began talking about it and laughed. I picked up the magazine that his foot was resting on and put it on Randy's lap. With no volume control, his immediate reaction was, "JESUS CHRIST! His foot was on that." Sarah and I laughed like only siblings or great friends can. SAVE POINT DOS On the way over to this lab/center, I passed the main courtyard and the mobile coffehouse cart. In the year that I've been coming here the cart has never been worked by anything other than boys. Not just boys but ONLY CUTE BOYS. I have concluded that the owner of the coffeshop is gay and he hand picks the boys to staff the cart. I KNOW this. =) Now I'll let this fantasy play out for a while and then maybe share it with Bobby at some point where we will mutually figure out the truth. My time has ended. Two hours down, 14 more to go. Ahh....where will the semester take me?
I enrolled in this "Writing Conference" class. You put in 16 hours of "conference" time at this lab I'm sitting in and the school rewards you with .5units and the word PASS on your transcript. You don't even have to actually "conference" with an instructor--as proven by this solitary act of using the online computers to journal my thoughts. I originally enrolled because my English instructor noted anyone taking the conference class and using the tools/instructors to write an essay would get 1/2 grade higher on any paper turned in. It turns out that I didn't want to READ & WRITE this semester so I dropped the English class but I kept this one. Part of me figures that it's a good opportunity to try and focus on some of my own writing projects. Will I?
In the last week, I wrote two more songs for Closer To Legal, "Darwin" and "That Way." That brings the total up to three, four if I can work the you last entry into something workable. Is this another dream of mine that will never drip ripe its fruition? I dare not quash the small endeavors that keep my fire alive inside. SAVE POINT UNO (I'm getting smart this time.) Randy & I are staying at my mom's house until next Wednesday. She and Jim have driven up to Seattle to visit Grandpa & Grandma Jean. Sarah is in her second week of high school. A Freshman. So grown up, so young still. She has so much insecurity and yet I can see the woman beginning to form opinions with her Hot Topic t-shirt reading "Prom Is Dumb" and her star shot shoelaces. It's nice having a washer/dryer so accessible. I miss this part of domestic living. I don't miss the clutter that my mom seems to collect everywhere. I don't miss the animals and the hair they leave everywhere, nor cleaning up the "messes" they make. It will be a different week for us and I'm sure we'll both be glad to be in our own bed just as fast as we can. Yesterday I took Sarah to a doctor appointment. Randy accompanied us. I liked that hey came. We grow more and more domestic as the months pass. Soon my birthday will be here and two years will have graced us. (As we gracefully fell back to the arms of grace--haha) We all walked into the waiting room of the doctor's office and found it to be quite full. Noise. Kids running. Noise. Parents calling. Noise. Nurses calling. Noise noise noise noise. I want kids? We sat down and there was the table in front of us with magazines, kiddie books. A man was talking to a little girl on the other side of the table. It wasn't odd at first, but I noticed that he had his feet on the table, elevated, resting, as if it were an ottoman(sp?) at home. When I glanced again, I could see that he wasn't wearing any shoes and his bare feet were on the magazines AND one foot wasn't regular color. It was Orange with green spots. I looked at Randy and psychically we exchanged the same thought. (His was auidbly louder than mine.) Sarah soon saw and was trying not to laugh. The man and girl eventually left. We began talking about it and laughed. I picked up the magazine that his foot was resting on and put it on Randy's lap. With no volume control, his immediate reaction was, "JESUS CHRIST! His foot was on that." Sarah and I laughed like only siblings or great friends can. SAVE POINT DOS On the way over to this lab/center, I passed the main courtyard and the mobile coffehouse cart. In the year that I've been coming here the cart has never been worked by anything other than boys. Not just boys but ONLY CUTE BOYS. I have concluded that the owner of the coffeshop is gay and he hand picks the boys to staff the cart. I KNOW this. =) Now I'll let this fantasy play out for a while and then maybe share it with Bobby at some point where we will mutually figure out the truth. My time has ended. Two hours down, 14 more to go. Ahh....where will the semester take me?
Sunday, September 08, 2002
M on M
Malaise on Mayo....maybe the next song title for Closer To Legal.
Butterfingered thoughts off the ball. Bleak threads inside of shallow breaths. I hear sounds in the background when I walk; like crickets outside of the window that are just part of the night's canvas. I want them to be understood, but the more I listen, the more foreign they are and it could drive me mad if I didn't stop. There truly are no original thoughts. Spin. "I just watched my life go by." Ahead of me is everything that was behind me and one moment can define. Morsels: more souls: Moore soles. I play with the words to show that a silent kind of communication is to be trusted more than words. Words obscure, as much as others will proclaim their ability to bring clarity. Words bring clarity for some like religion as a path for others. And I'm tired, oh so tired and maybe this whole rant is the new Malaise on Mayo. And maybe this rant is just me again.
Butterfingered thoughts off the ball. Bleak threads inside of shallow breaths. I hear sounds in the background when I walk; like crickets outside of the window that are just part of the night's canvas. I want them to be understood, but the more I listen, the more foreign they are and it could drive me mad if I didn't stop. There truly are no original thoughts. Spin. "I just watched my life go by." Ahead of me is everything that was behind me and one moment can define. Morsels: more souls: Moore soles. I play with the words to show that a silent kind of communication is to be trusted more than words. Words obscure, as much as others will proclaim their ability to bring clarity. Words bring clarity for some like religion as a path for others. And I'm tired, oh so tired and maybe this whole rant is the new Malaise on Mayo. And maybe this rant is just me again.
Wednesday, September 04, 2002
Hour By Hour
So I'm trying something new... like always. (or never)
EVENTS:
6:30am awake
6:31am back asleep
7:30am awake
7:45am E-mail Alegebra professor intent to have semester grade based solely on my final exam and not test/quizzes
8:05am back asleep
8:45am awake...went running
9:05am back from run, showered
9:05---10:30 LOST TIME I think I mostly listened to music, ate a bowl of Basic 4, watched a Bjork DVD, talked online, jacked off, and got school stuff ready.
10:45--arrived at English Writing conference room to work on Ch.2 of story idea. An hour later, one whole typed page. woo hoo... boo.
11:45--bored, return home to look for a movie.
1:20pm--arrive at Westpark Cinemas to watch 1:35 showing of the movie XXX (Tripe X). While waiting I text messaged Randy, Eric & Dionna. Found out Dionna worked @ El Torito tonight at 6pm.
4:00pm--or thereabouts, get home and talk online with Rob & Jayson until Randy gets home at 4:45pm.
5:00pm--hunger pains. We set off on side streets to goto El Torito
6:00pm--arrive at El Torito. One hour side street drive that normally takes 20-25 minutes freeway.
8:00pm--(approximately) we arrive home. I talk on the phone with Randy C. and catch up on his cruiseship experiences. I think of BUSH's first album title, "6Teen Stone."
8--10pm Randy & I lay in bed watching Enterprise, are logged onto AOL and casually chatting with absolutely no one interesting; waiting for SouthPark
10pm SouthPark is a re-run, but funny. Randy is horny, I'm not, but am having fun jacking him off to the point where he shoots our wall again. =+)
10:30--11pm I get horny and j/o to some porn from the internet.
11pm--both tired, hot, fall asleep without covers and in the nude.
EVENTS:
6:30am awake
6:31am back asleep
7:30am awake
7:45am E-mail Alegebra professor intent to have semester grade based solely on my final exam and not test/quizzes
8:05am back asleep
8:45am awake...went running
9:05am back from run, showered
9:05---10:30 LOST TIME I think I mostly listened to music, ate a bowl of Basic 4, watched a Bjork DVD, talked online, jacked off, and got school stuff ready.
10:45--arrived at English Writing conference room to work on Ch.2 of story idea. An hour later, one whole typed page. woo hoo... boo.
11:45--bored, return home to look for a movie.
1:20pm--arrive at Westpark Cinemas to watch 1:35 showing of the movie XXX (Tripe X). While waiting I text messaged Randy, Eric & Dionna. Found out Dionna worked @ El Torito tonight at 6pm.
4:00pm--or thereabouts, get home and talk online with Rob & Jayson until Randy gets home at 4:45pm.
5:00pm--hunger pains. We set off on side streets to goto El Torito
6:00pm--arrive at El Torito. One hour side street drive that normally takes 20-25 minutes freeway.
8:00pm--(approximately) we arrive home. I talk on the phone with Randy C. and catch up on his cruiseship experiences. I think of BUSH's first album title, "6Teen Stone."
8--10pm Randy & I lay in bed watching Enterprise, are logged onto AOL and casually chatting with absolutely no one interesting; waiting for SouthPark
10pm SouthPark is a re-run, but funny. Randy is horny, I'm not, but am having fun jacking him off to the point where he shoots our wall again. =+)
10:30--11pm I get horny and j/o to some porn from the internet.
11pm--both tired, hot, fall asleep without covers and in the nude.
Tuesday, September 03, 2002
experiment
CJ Stone - "Infinity"
This is the second week of school. My class started at 8am, and no, I'm not on a laptop in class at present. [yawn] I've always written when I've felt inspired to do so, not to deadlines or upon request. A closer evaluation reveals that I'm turned off to writing when there is some artificial element to it. That being said, I've dropped my Writing 1 class, but have kept the workshop .5 unit class. The idea being that maybe I can use the structured time each week to sit and pump out a chapter a week until the end of the semester. It will be an experiment for me. Something has to be finished in order for it to be revised.
Eva Cassidy - "Over The Rainbow"
This is the second week of school. My class started at 8am, and no, I'm not on a laptop in class at present. [yawn] I've always written when I've felt inspired to do so, not to deadlines or upon request. A closer evaluation reveals that I'm turned off to writing when there is some artificial element to it. That being said, I've dropped my Writing 1 class, but have kept the workshop .5 unit class. The idea being that maybe I can use the structured time each week to sit and pump out a chapter a week until the end of the semester. It will be an experiment for me. Something has to be finished in order for it to be revised.
Eva Cassidy - "Over The Rainbow"
