Recently in More Personal Than Usual Category

For the last few months I have not posted very frequently. There are many, many reasons for this. Work for the last two months has been oppressive. I have spent 4 of the last 7 weeks at my (unnamed) company's headquarters (an undisclosed location in the backwoods of America - thank goodness that I have an addiction to catfish), which has really put a damper on any sort of social life. I have just learned that I will need to be out there again for the last two weeks of April as well, so don't bother to ask me to do anything, I don't have time between now and then to even learn to mimic normal human interactions.

Oddly though, I don't think that the whole work thing is really at the root of my boringness. It's simpler than that, and much, much harder to fix. I am not unhappy. I'm not saying I'm happy, that's just asking for trouble after all, I'm just saying "not unhappy". And, in my own estimation the flowering of my posts came like 2005-2006, when I was very unhappy and didn't really give a crap what anyone read about me, I just needed to get it out. Now I once again have people that I care about and this has made me cautious in what I say. Not because I want to say bad things about anyone, it's just that when you are with someone and you feel like there might actually be a day after tomorrow it does cause you to approach things differently. You worry that you will get hit by a bus, rather than worrying about the impact it would have on the driver if you threw yourself under one, just as one example.

These days I don't have anything personal to write about because it's either boring work stuff that I would be fired for writing about, or it's boring personal stuff that involves me being with a person I actually like. And there is nothing less interesting than that. Ewww..

I have struggled to write political things, but honestly our government is run by the mutant offspring of the Keystone cops and the Apple Dumpling gang (R.I.P., Don Knotts, R.I.P.). There is nothing to say that you could not read in a million other blogs, if you could be bothered to get off of your lazy, cheap-credit bloated, soon to be begging on the street asses. It's no longer a matter of "If you are not angry, you have not been paying attention"; now it's more like "If you are not angry you are severely retarded, or a war profiteering criminal". Not a lot to write there, see? You are pretty much either war criminal or you are aiding and abetting. I put myself in the latter category as well, not to worry. It's not like I am going to Washington and operating very large protest puppets (does that even work?).

I feel like I have lost any ability to make a difference or add anything to the conversation, so I am just not bothering. Instead I am playing Final Fantasy 6 again for the first time in 14 years. See? I am a tool.

So yeah, I am boring these days. Mostly, I think, because I am pretty not unhappy. Not totally not unhappy. But I don't think I have anything to complain about.

Ok, mysterious unnamed comment posting, possibly papal person. I hope this meets your requirements for personal disclosure. This is all you are getting for a while.

You might be familiar with the story of Orpheus. He's the son of the Greek god Apollo and, I am going to go out on a limb and say a muse - probably Calliope. He's the perfect musician and poet, who lost his perfect love, Eurydice, when she died and went to hell/hades. Orpheus, being the persistent type, followed her there and bargained with Hades to allow her to follow him out of hell, under one condition - as he left hell he could never look back to see if she was following. He did, and she was lost to him forever.

For some reason, maybe an overabundance of regret, remorse and a wish that things had gone differently, I have been hugely affected by this story for most of my life. The idea that not trusting, that needing the evidence of your eyes screws things up, that the idea that looking back (say re-dating everyone you have ever dated - Sally, I skipped you only because I didn't have a contact number)) is a plan for disaster. The implications of Lot's wife looking back at the destruction Sodom and Gomorrah and becoming a pillar of salt are also not lost on me.

I am very concerned about my attachment to the past and what it means. The most concerning part, to me is that I only seem, now (and by now I mean since 1995), to date people that I have previously dated, regardless of how disastrously that might have gone 10 to 20 years ago. I really do think that that as long as I don't look back - I don't try to frame the new relationship based on the old relationship, or really ever THINK that I am dating the same person this can work. Interestingly, I do not seek out ALL of these people...some of them seek me out (Out of all of the blogs, in all of the blogosphere, she had to comment on mine). But I find them...comfortable, or in one case compelling and lovable (as in I love her, not like she is a stuffed animal or something else cute and furry, regardless of her ear wear choices). It also sort of freaks me out that my favorite artists - Jean Cocteau, David Sylvian, Niel Gaiman, Bill Nelson and others have the same Orphic identity issues. We try to save people, we don't trust; we look back, and we lose everything. In the end, we are torn apart by sex crazed Maenads, and not in the good way.

This post doesn't go anywhere - there is no understanding at the end. Just questions. Why do I do this and is it a good thing? It seems good now. Great even. That however makes me worry about it and fear that I could fuck it up, by simply looking back at the wrong moment to check and see if she is still following me. What happens if she is? And what happens if she isn't?

So, two friends of mine have just given birth. Yes, one did more work than the other, but I feel generous today. There is a brand new baby girl in the world, and I think that is wonderful. I really think they will be loving parents that will let their child grow up to be happy, well rounded, and messed up in the right ways.

At the same time, it does stir up a lot of stuff - seeing my sister's beautiful little boy a few weeks ago, years ago, telling Sharon that we should not get her tubes reversed and have a baby (I'm just going to say "good decision" because if we didn't stay together because of two children I thought of as ours, one more would not make a difference).

At the same time it feels like I am missing something. I am old enough, and I have the money (once this stupid shit is settled) for a family. I feel like I am too old though - have a baby today and I'm sixty when it leaves high school; I'm 65 by the time that it decides to go on ice for 4500 years to see if anything more interesting comes along. At the same time, what does a biological kid get me other than assured visitation? I am not too concerned about carrying on my genetic heritage - yes, the world can never have enough tall, thin, smart and good looking people, but, really, there are plenty of people in the world already. I think it's more that my favorite time for kids is between 1 and 3, before they become actual human beings - they think different, and not in an Apple way. They just see the world from a whole new perspective. I haven't had the opportunity to go through all of that myself; I always get involved after that.

I can see myself in all my kids - James, Jessica, Sara and Kieran all got something from me, and I think it was something good. That means a lot. I love the fact the people will say, when seeing James or Kieran "My, he really takes after you" and I can nod in agreement - not because I think they do physically, be because I think/hope that they have recieved something from me about how you should treat people. One of my proudest moments was when James, at Kieran's current age, went to a dance and danced with a girl he didn't like (as in like like), but who asked him. Later he told me "Come on, she was brave to ask me to dance. I know what that's like. I had to dance with her - it's not like we were getting married.". Wise words from a 13 year old. I also love that Kieran is able to talk about what's going on with him, and how he's feeling. Not real well, but better than I could at his age.

Of course, I have also never had closer relationships than I have with my stepkids - they are the only "I will always love you no matter what" relationships. My ex-spouses may do things that hurt too much to live with, but my step kids can't. I'm not going t break the implicit "I'll be there" promise that I made when I married thier mom. It's not fair, or righ to do so. Jessica and James were what...3 and 6? Ash and Kieran were...11 and 5? It's a one sided agreement and one that I have to uphold if they are going to trust anyone in the future.

I have to admit that there is a curiousity about the difference there might be with son/daughter and Mother of your son/daughter.I can only assume from the divorce rates that it's both closer and more fragile that I can imagine. But you know, all this breeding lately kind of makes me want breed as well; no matter how many intellectual arguments there are against it. I won't, of course, without good reason. I really think that I can preserve my heritage through meme transmission as well as I could through long protein chain exchanges. If I get to write their software, does it really matter what hardware it runs on? They all know about Monty Python, and they all have good taste in music and film.

So, upon further examination of the pop-culture trivia nightmare that is my inner world, I have decided that, without a doubt, my favorite TV show is Scrubs. I love the story lines, I love the light and black humour, and I love the characters. I identify with all of them, even though they are either jewish, female, black, or assholes. (Kristin, I understand that this confuses you. Trust me, I can love Scrubs, the O.C., Boston Legal, and 8 other shows at the same time - we have an understanding - like Bill and Hill).

I was reminded of this tonight when they replayed one of the older episodes with the line I used for the title of this post. I am now, and have always been a gigantic fan of the name Molly.

In fact, I think I am going to pledge that from this day forth, there will be no un-"M"-named loves in my life.

Hello Melvin! (or Michelle, or, hey, I'll take a Mike at this point. Mikah, if you haven't married yet - I'm available.)

Thinking about the single mom connection reminded me of another strange intersection in my marriages. At the end of each, my spouse enjoyed watching "America's Funniest Home Videos" - a show that I don't care for, due the the whole schadenfraude aspect of it. When my most recent marriage began I mentioned this, which was met with general agreement, but over the years this agreement obviously lessened.

I wonder if that is the root of my maritial difficulties - an inability to appreciate a football in the groin.

I am officially a Netizen today. Yes, yes, I have had a web site and my own domains since 1993, yes, it's true that I had a shell account even before that. It's true that I was a member of the first affiliate program ever offered, am a member of the EFF, and was a member of the Internet Society. But today I went farther than I ever thought possible.

My therapist is now reading my blog during our sessions and asking my questions about things that I have posted. Now, there are some interesting things there to probe certainly. For example, in my post on Gilmore Girls I specifically mentioned the hot single mom character. Now, I have only dated two single moms in my life, and I married both of them. Interesting, and we will no doubt get into that in the next session.

It also led to questions about why I write this thing. This was brought up because I found out yesterday that I have one more reader than I thought I did, leading my therapist to ask whether or not this person - we will call them "Reader A" (un-indicted, obviously) - was the intended audience for some of the posts. An interesting question, and one that I had not really thought about before.

Obviously before August that was not the case. At that time anything I needed to communicate I could just tell her, and most of the stuff that is on the blog was political, whether regular politics or net/digital rights related, or just general geeking out, like the DVR building series. Right around September though, when the posts began to get more personal, there was, I think some intention of writing for "Reader A". In my mind that stopped in October. What I am writing here now I am writing for myself for the most part, with some stuff just because it might be interesting to several friends spread across the country, or maybe my parents, who I don't call often enough, and who I suspect read this website on occasion (there was the package they sent about how to leave instructions in case I go into a coma that arrived shortly after my Terri Schiavo post months ago...).

So in summary, I don't feel like I am writing for anyone other than myself. I don't mind that anybody reads this - if did, I wouldn't be posting it in public like this. But there aren't any hidden meanings, agendas, or anything other than my working through things that are in my head by writing about them, which I've discovered is helpful to me. I guess it's even more helpful to me now that my therapist is able to go through the things that I write and quiz me on them. I know there have been books written by psychologists attempting to analyze historical figures from their memoirs and letters, but it's kind of strange though to have it happen to me, while I'm still alive and able to answer questions...

It has been 2 1/2 months since I stopped wearing my ring, but the band-mark on my finger is still really obvious. It's not a skin color/tan difference either - there is still an actual dent on my finger where the ring was.

I have no idea if this is normal or not, but it does make me wonder about the married men who take their rings off thinking that then no one will know they are married - the dent seems like it would be a dead give away to anyone who bothered to look. Although I guess if you took it off often enough there would be less than a full five years worth of dent.

I keep looking at it, like it's a scar that's healing, wondering how long it's going to be visible, after the pain/injury has already stopped, as a reminder to be more careful in the future.

I've talked before about doing the right thing, in several different contexts. I find myself in a position where I have to figure out how to do the right thing in a situation where everything feels wrong. It's hard, and sometimes it feels like I'm chasing my tail. What's right from some perspectives seems really wrong from others, things that feel like they are wrong may turn out to be right with time, and none of the things that should give me a superficial sense of "justice" do; they make me feel bad.

I wish that I didn't have to make these decisions, but thinking through them is helping - slowly picking this knot apart and figuring out what, given the situation, will result in the in smallest rise in net misery in the world. I think I have to remove myself from the formula for the moment - it's not that I don't think I matter - I do ( a LOT). It's just that I have a very good idea of what I am capable of recovering from, and I know that I will, so for the moment I can ignore myself and do the right thing for the people around me. I know from experience that, eventually I will look back on how I handled things and if I do the right things now I will feel better about myself, and everyone else will feel better for it.

I regret all sorts of things I have done in the past, that I can't change them, and I need to just avoid making any more mistakes in the future. People are both dangerous and fragile things - I need to make sure that going forward I don't let myself fall asleep at the wheel again.

My new/soon to be official boss (who I like) told me today in our one-on-one that I am getting thinner and I need to eat more. Since I like him actually talk to him about things that are going on, so he knew why.

Now, I knew that, and I have been trying to make myself eat more, but I didn't know it was so noticable.

Going out to eat tonight, with Sharon and Kieron, I will make sure I get something of substance.

Who said you can never be too thin or too rich. I guess I am proving the first wrong.

Many, many posts today as I do battle with SOX documentation and need to take a break and use my brain for something else. Either that, or doing the SOX documentation is soooo mindless that while I am doing it I am able to think about other things, which I then decide I want to post.

I'm looking for things to do. I need stuff to occupy my time, because I am tired of wasting it or filling it up with stupid things.

For example, I recently started taking Capoeira classes (Capoeira is a brazilian combination of dance, tumbling, music and martial arts - think Eddy Gordo in Tekken, but you need to be able to clap and sing at the same time in real life). I decided to do this for a couple of reason - I need exercise for one. I also wanted to do something that that I knew I would completely suck at and see if I could stick with it. So far, four lessons, I totally suck at it and feel bad for the other students who get matched with me for practice (at the same time it feels like middle school P.E. and getting picked last every time). I am still sticking to it though. I am slowly getting it, hey I've got the basic stance (the Jenga) almost down (it's easy by the way, at least for everyone else in the world). It probably the hardest physical thing I have ever done, and I'm getting some satisfaction from sticking to it, though the blisters on my feet may kill me, and all the children in the kid's classes could easily kick my ass.

I have also decided recently to start photographing things. Not seriously as in "I am Taking Up Photogaphy", but just as a hobby with a digital camera. It gives me some satisfaction, it's a reason to leave the house and it doesn't involve other people. All good things, right?

I've also realized that I miss something from my past - something that I have occasionally missed before. Back in the late eighties I volunteered at a center called "Computers and You" in San Francisco, where I taught disadvantaged kids how to tell stories using Hypercard. It as extremely satisfying, but I got my job at Visa and the time to do that slowly disappeared. I'd like to find something like that to do again, though I am not sure what yet, or how to go about it. I mean, I make my donations to the red cross, I give to other charities, but giving away money doesn't have the same impact I felt I had working with those kids.

I also need to write more. That is one reason that I am posting more lately. I have a whole bunch of stuff that has been stuck in my head, and I need to get it out. I figure this is better than talking to myself, but I need to find some other outlets as well.

For a long time I have felt like I was passing through life without leaving much of a trace. It wasn't always like that. I used to do stuff, or at least try to do stuff. I wrote game stuff that got published, my old jobs involved either being helpful or creative (whether it was introducing people to books, making sure they didn't get ripped by buying software that does more than they need, making videos and promo stuff, making sure that privacy rights and disenfrachised/unbanked issues are taken into account in the credit card industry, or making neato internet and new media thingees). I don't have that in my 9-5 (really 8-5) anymore, so I need to start making time for it in the other 4 hours a day that I have. Plus some on weekends.