* Geeked Out
The computer has returned from Best Buy with mixed news. As far as they can tell, there is nothing wrong with the operating platform. Seems that everything inside the tower is working as it should be. That would seem to be the good news. The neutral to not-so-goo news would be that they were unable to figure out what was causing the power kickouts that I was having. As Pinklady was kind enough to pick it up from the store for me, I didn't speak to any of the Geeks myself, so I didn't get firsthand report of what exactly they did. The combined results of their efforts and the new memory stick ($100 down the drain....) has resulted in a much faster running CPU, though. In the process of systematically reattching alll the peripheral devices, I discovered that whe I plugged in the wireless adapter, the power immediately kicked out. So I put in a call to Comcast and told them that I thought the card was going bad. Hopefully when the tech comes out tomorrow, they will confirm this, give me a new card, and be on their way. That would be the best, as well as lowest cost, solution to this problem.
*A Swarm of Suchners?
Ray's memorial service is in one week. Phil says he'll have the bathroom done before then, but it's doubtful that the foundation will be. The top part of the house won't be painted yet, either. I do think I'm going to try to to get the upstairs completely vacuumed and shampooed before all the relatives descend upon us. I think I'll put Pinklady on dust detail to give her something to do. And though I did the basic bookwork today, I merely added to the teetering mound of filing that needs to be done soon. I think I 'll save that for a later date.
*Partly Cloudy, Chance of Crappy Weather
Aprilesque weather seems to be determined to never leave the area. Once again, it's been days since the sun has been seen., and the temps continue to hover in the upper 50's. I am really not liking this at all.
*'Hard' to watch
Pinklady rented 'Walk Hard' for us to watch the other day. It was just OK. I think that's all I really care to say about it. Well, that and the fact that it was just a half-hearted shrug of a movie.
What's that, you ask? What's the best way to clean large, dusty, silk plants? Two words: garden hose.
*What Rhymes With Crypt?
You would think that writing limericks about your zombie girlfriend would be easy, but I have found it to be more of a challenge than I thought.
My girlfriend's a zombie, I fear.
A semi did over her steer.
Now as flat as my hand,
At my door she does stand,
With her spleen hanging out of her ear.
Yesterday was pretty quiet here at work, and today seems to be running a similar course. It would be nice to be able to to get this all done and posted, as well as finishing my CAP surveys and placing my Quest supply order. I also wouldn't mind getting further into the book I just started, but we'll see if that happens. I have to wait until tomorrow to find out what the Pirate Queen has to say about that whole PCR mess that I discovered yesterday.
*The Ghost of Camaros Past
What if Greywolf wasn't as big a jerk as everybody thought? I really was deep into that period of time where all I could do was push people away when we 'broke up'. He may have been going through the same sort of issues that I was at the time. I would be most pained to think he was in the right about me, but I have to admit that had to have been part of it. He was not the sulking, brooding, self-pitying introvert that I was, and eventually he got sick of having me around. Can't say that I blame him. Actually, I think I was sick of it before he was, but was too afraid of what might happen if I were to put the time and effort into changing. So I did what I usually did at that point in time: I got drunk and acted out against the people I most wanted to have support me. Sure enough, one by one, they all got tired of picking me up off the floor. That was years of poorly spent time.
*My Favorite Blondes
For some reason, I seem to be sulking around in the late 80's this week. And of course, two integral parts of the many 'what if/if only' scenarios that arise are No.1 and the Amazon. When I manage to find the opportunity to step back just far enough, I can gain just enough perspective to truly wonder 'Why?' I like to tell people that No.1 was just that: my first love. I'm sure I've hung on to just enough of the good and neutral memories to be able to make that seem like the case to most people. But is it true? Given my fascination with the very plastic and distortive nature of memory, I have to admit that I don't know. But if I then accept that answer, I am forced to recognize that distorted collection of partial memories as being flawed and potentially inaccurate. So, 20 years after the fact, can I honestly say that I am still in love with No.1? As much as it pains me to say it, the best I can do is say that the memories that are attached to that notion I have of her are ones that I am quite fond of. The degree of truthfullness they may or may not contain is a completely different subject. I guess that amalgamation of ideas that I identify as her is what I am in love with. Like I said before, I am 20 years down the road from that point. If I ran into her on the street, I wouldn't recognize her. It could very well be that if I had put the effort into getting to know her better at the time, my opinion may have ended up being different. If I were to get to know her as she is right now, that could also change my opinion of her, as much as the voice in the back of my head is screaming "YOU IDIOT!! SHE WAS THE ONE! YOU FUCKED UP BIIIIIIG TIME, MISTER!!" If you average all those statements out, I am left with basically nothing. Except some photos that I look at fondly as I imagine someone who may not exist any more. At least, she may not exist as the person I remember from 20 years ago. Likewise also the Amazon. I guess I remember her most for what seemed to be the endless kindness she displayed to someone who was the eternal third wheel to her and Greywolf. Again, all that seems to be left are 20 year old pictures and less than accurate memories. I could group those two loosely into the same category that includes my birth parents. There are times when I really really want to find them irregardless of the idea that you can't build a relationship out of nothing, no matter what the movies say. It's like I feel that any one of them, or all of them as a group hold some key or power that will help me shed this constant sense of grayness and allow me to move forward. As if all I have to do is say 'You complete me', and all will be grand. Y'know, realism really bites sometimes. I think I will most always hold some notion of someday running into one of the two blondes and having some whirlwind romance where we end up going off into the sunset together. Mostly though, the thought of getting in touch with them sets off every feeling of inadequacy and anxiety I have. The fear of rejection from any one of them is quite a powerful motivator for me to just lay low, and once again, take no risk and put forth no effort, lest I be rejected. If it were the movies, it would be a bittersweet romance (Still Breathing) where it seems like the hero will be left alone to contemplate what could have been until he turns around and sees her standing there. Unfortunately, I don't quite fit into the hero mold.
*Let's Do The Time Warp Again!
Does the past of others influence them in in a similar way that it does me, or am I alone in feeling somewhat retarded at not being able to accept some things and then let them go?How close am I to turning into Uncle Rico, caught in a perpetual loop of trying to resurrect, relive, and perfect the past? Worse yet, am I close to becoming some creepy stalker type, perpetually obsessed with what they could never have? What is the middle ground between trying to completely excise your past and just accepting it in the present? Is it a bad thing to feel that deep in the heart pang when you see that picture? Too many questions I don't have the answers for....
*I'll Trade You a Balloon For That Sniper Rifle....
I've noticed that my game collection, at least as far as the computer goes, has basically split up into two different groups. There are those I play fairly often, and another pile of mostly run- and-gun-first-person-shooter type games. The whole concept of exploding heads, piles of bodies spraying computer generated blood, and racking up as many kills as you can has really lost its appeal to me. Simplistic as it may sound, I'd much rather play Roller Coaster Tycoon. Elements of real time strategy, creativity, planning, and an overall goal of trying to make all your little sim guests happy. Works for me.
*Dammit, Dammit, Dammit.....
Don't you hate it when someone tells you what the results of your actions will be before you even do them? And even worse, when you go and prove them right, and they don't even dance around singing 'I told you so, I told you so'. As such, I find myself completely unable to escape the correctness of Siddhartha. But I must also acknowledge that the resentment I feel is due to my own incorrect thinking in believing that the end result would be something other than what it is/was. Just one more episode where I have to get up out of the mud, get back on the path, and start moving again.
As a somewhat interesting aside to some of my previous thoughts, I tried to do a perspective shift and ponder the following: Given the impact I still feel from them today, to whom in my past would I have been a No.1, Greywolf, or Amazon to? How would I react if someone like that were to drop back into my life out of the blue? How many people still remember, and if they do, even care? Brings to mind for me a long list of people who would put me on the Greywolf side, and many, many fewer who would put me down as either an Amazon or a No.1. Not really the best balance of accounts, by my reckoning.
Of course, in all this mulling and rethinking of the past, I reach the end and consider my part in all of it. The repeating theme I keep seeing is the selection more often than not, and usually irregardless of consequences, of the path of least resistance. Risk and effort were avoided in favor of ease and security of results. An unpleasant realization, to be sure. More disappointing is the notion of my unwillingness, even in the face of this knowledge, to alter my course of action. Will my rising level of discomfort with myself be a catalyst for meaningful change, or will I merely find a somewhat sheltered spot to hide in till things blow over or I increase my medication level? And what exactly is the role of the happy capsules in all of this? How much of the spiral is really a physical lack of neurotransmitters as opposed to a mental reaction to accumulated brain crud? How can I avoid 'analysis paralysis' and move on to enacting change? Well, it should be blatantly obvious that I should stop asking so many questions, accept things as they are and just get moving. *SIGH* Crap. Hang on a sec, Siddhartha, give me a chance to catch up. Again.