The Ephemeral Process

It's not really a plan like a CEO might forge, or a defense attorney might lay out. More of a gist, suggestion or vague waving-hand direction - that's more like my plans. And what's more, it's perfectly legal from a psychological and moral standpoint, as well as a personal goals standpoint, to operate in such a gossamer way. Often folks tsk, tsk and turn their collective noses up at the mere hint of fate, destiny or metaphysics, nonetheless they are functional aspects of existence. Whether we choose to focus on the banal, logical parameters set out for us by the "E"-stablishment gurus, follow our gutsy internal promptings, or whip up a concoction of both that sets us on the path, each of us has an infrastructure that predisposes one to certain kinds of modi operandae.

Obviously I am of the more intangible ilk, else why would I be posting as such, and find myself surrounded by micro-managing logical types that view progress and success in terms of a very defined yardstick. No sense trying to convince these slaves to paper that other modes can be just as productive, and infinitely more alluring in their diaphony (word??).

Ahhhhh... Readable again

After fiddly-diddlying with my template for a day and 1/2, I have finally got the body to squat nicely beside the sidebar - no fighting, you two!! Anywho, after that dismaying foray into the unknown (and now just mostly unknown) territory of page code, I can get back to the esoteric business of posting.

More genius from HBO originals...

Titus Pullo says to the Madame, "...and she should fuck him like Helen of Troy with her ass on fire!"

Brilliant!!!!

Japan Dolphin Day

This is one of those causes that goes beyond the animal... an indication of the wholesale ignorance and inhumanity that surrounds us.

http://www.earthisland.org/saveTaijiDolphins/japanDolphinDay.html

Squidley Didley

Now THIS is news!! Being that I am enamored of all things oceanic and my user id is "sydsquid", I find this particularly apropos. How absolutely brilliant that this cephalopod has managed to ellude us for so long, circumventing the vagaries of humans.

Bravo, Architeuthus!!!

Looney Tunes

After a year, I've left off the looney pills. Yes, discarded them brashly in hopes of regaining my muse and coping without serotonin intervention. Reality is - when your head is quite wonky, a shot of psyche equilibrium is certainly required, but when balance is restored and a modicum of normalcy (verbotten, I tell you!) stays around, habits can be re-formed, re-worked, re-invented and then the looney pills only serve to induce depression. Normal people depression, nevertheless a malaise that inhibits lively function, masks true interest and quells needful anxiety.

Ah, the mystery of the next corner is rekindled...

Like-able vs. Love-able

In a previous post, I whined about my inability to inspire passion, devotion, or adoration in the men that briefly flit through my dating life. On any given day, my lackluster capabilities in this department burble quietly through the small back-waters of my mind barely perceptible amongst the welter of other insecurities and concerns. However, occassionally circumstances and insensitivity connive to turn my usually quiet spring into a raoring, leaping Niagra that will not be denied. Rarely am I blind-sided by it, and its tumult subsides with amazing alacrity; but the poignany, the piquancy grows stronger with each repetition as I grow older, resolving and embracing my self-awareness, and the hands of my romance clock speed through their circuit with ever increasing insistency.

Your Cheese Will Be Waiting

A mere two years ago over seriously mulled Christmas wine and generous cups of Evelyn's Killer Eggnog, I threatened to compile my poetry into a retrospective with witty, superiorly intelligent prose and commentary. As with most wanna-be writers, the planets have colluded in preventing me from getting on with this epic. However, just this day, another chapter took form in my "book closet" and I give all the credit to my inadvertently clever Mum.

This chapter is all yours, Mom. I'll let y fans know when the momentous occassion arrives... you will all be instructed to proceed to your nearest Amazon (funny, that once was a nickname) or Borders to procure the most delicious tome of our times.

Am I the only one...

who is exhausted by the continuous braying of the politico-racist complex about the mistreatment of the mass of humanity caught in the wake of Katrina?? My tax dollars have been applied to the subsidization of the procreating miasma of non-working folk choosing to live in sub-oceanic NOLA and now I am begged to give willingly to those who chose to sit the torment. Is there a picture of unwary, innocent victim that I am unable to see?

This foments more anti-establishment, republican (in the TRUE Texan sense of the word) fervor on my behalf. Oh, if I were to have my moment in the sun, or perhaps win a multi-billion dollar lottery, that small Caribbean empire would be SO mine!!

Well, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!

Is it really plausible that sheep, goats and cows canoodled and decided that it would be best to infect humans with TSE's??? NO!!!!! It was spawned by humans and we will suffer the consequences of our arrogance and ignorance.

Go ORGANIC, I tell you!!!

Charmed, I'm sure...

There are some women who have the ability to enrapture men. Specifically my Mom, but not limited to her. I've always wondered if it was pheromonal, chemical, social - just what combination of criteria make for irresistibility? Over the course of my mating life, I have been described as "intimidating", "overpowering", and a "firecracker" but never "alluring", "exceptional", or "entrancing".

Have You Ever...

had the feeling that knowledge just aggregates in the brain and all you have to do to utilize it is awaken it with a little prodding? I took my Stats final two nights ago... I don't know about the rest of you, but I have pretty much forgotten all my graduate level stats except for p-values and ANOVA's which really don't matter much unless you know how to interprete them and use them in a sentence, er... equation. And where am I going with this drivel?

After attending the INSC 60013 intro class, I somehow skipped every class until the mid-term, which I took and have no idea how I did but suspect it was miserable, then conducted some psychological self-flagellation for my sloth. Convinced that I would now walk the straight and narrow path to Statistical and Graduate excellence, I awaited the second half of the summer session with renewed expectation. Evening classes came and went and there I sat on my couch, in my bed, out in the park, any place but Smith Hall. And finally, a mere two classes before the final, I pin-pointed my lack of drive... I had normal people depression. Mmmm - weird.

But how was I to rectify this class thing? Too late too drop, too ashamed to attend class, too proud to confess. A brief communique to the prof assured me that no harm done, just finish the requirements. The day, Yes, the DAY of the final, I started to study. 18 Chapters of finance statistics to absorb in 6 hours.

And guess what? I feel quite certain I did.

Nocturnes

The bedroom was beautiful - large, high bed; thick, wooly rugs; dim lights and candles softly glowing. I was struggling to hide the evidence of Steve's visit, cigarette ashes carelessly flicked on the old plank floor, cooled wax. The party would be starting soon and I hadn't even gotten the decorations for the spiral staircase that the kids would use as a play area. Of course the booze was already awaiting the arrival of the costumed guests. As I rushed over to the adjoining complex, I saw that Mom had already done the decorating... all was in readiness.

Suddenly I was in the midst of our party, children clambering, adults marvelling at the interior decor and gushing over my Mom. I felt alone, small and silly. I wanted to shout about my achievements, my successes, my talents, but I knew it would all fall on deaf and charmed ears. After most of the revellers retired for the night and I was a bit high on the booze and my self-righteousness, I cornered my Mom. Intensely, but not loudly, I reminded her that I was valuable, not like one of her turn of the century chintz plates but as a person, a daughter and an individual. She wept but I remained arid. Maybe I had gotten my point across.

An Indian friend noticed our exchange and soflty approached. She invited us to her house for the following day to relax with her large family in their new home. As we arrived she offered us warm chai tea and calmed our frazzled emotions with her soothing banter. Feathers were smoothed and accusations were withdrawn, status quo regained.

While wandering the house I noticed a new ability to move objects, make them appear and disappear, happening only when I wasn't concentrating or wishing but when I just knew it should happen. Each time I used this gift, it grew, becoming easier and more bold. I went outside to play with the dog, throwing a stick and making it disappear/reappear to the dismay of the Lab. I conjured simple things, natural things, things that might be there anyway. Delighted with my treasure, I returned inside to make the ice cubes in drinks appear and vanish. No one seemed to notice.

Later that evening I went out and was delighted when I was approached by Matt Damon and Ben Afleck, the younger versions just off their success with "Good Will Hunting". Ben already had the beginnings of the swagger that would wear thin with fans and keep him in sub-par movies, but Matt still radiated that innocent intensity. Ben had a brazen dark girl on his arm and Matt asked me to join them back to their hotel. First we stopped at a manufacturing plant, laser-machined parts and other metal fabrications were the products made there. Matt demonstrated his skill with a precision metal laser while I watched with fascination. Ben and his woman squirmed in the dark corner urging us to hurry up.

Arriving at their hotel, a grand Las Vegas style affair, we headed up to the penthouse suites. The other couple practically engaged before the locks and doors were thrown. Matt and I retired to his rooms and our encounter was slow, sweet and delicious. He revelled in my experience and I was overcome with his youth and energy - the fit was perfect. While we lay together. Matt confided to me that he thought Ben was somehow spying for the Russians and sending the information from the fabrication plant to their government, but he couldn't be sure how the information was being gathered. He asked me if I would spend some time alone with Ben, try to suss out the means for the deception. God, I would do anything for Matt's angelic face!

Wouldn't you know, Ben was carrying around a small Russian spy, named Fyodor, in his navel.

Alta Y Baja

A couple of years ago my Grandmother gave me some stock for Christmas. Since then I have set up a little portfolio, watched it anxiously as it quivered and quavered with the whims of the NYSE. However, before I started all this MBA nonsense I was only concerned with the bottom line - How much is this stuff worth?? Ho, Ho,... but now that I am all the wiser in matters of Financial Reporting and the like, the rhyme is starting to jive with the reason. So, last week when my little pieces of paper started climbing the heights, I chortled with delight, but was gradnly dismayed when it took a nosedive based on the slightly revised quarterly earnings.

Ah, that fickle market, how it yanky my midas desires to and fro.