April 1, 2008
Why I Am Boring
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.
Posted by edgore at 8:56 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
January 16, 2008
Edwin Gore and His Feelings of Orphic Identity
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?
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March 8, 2006
I Don't Know How To Feel About What
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 plentyof 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, when 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, non-Morman. I also love the 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? The all know about Monty Python, and they all have good taste in music and film. Except for James - how could you not worship Dresden Dolls? Resistance is, you realize, futile...
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March 7, 2006
God Bless All The Mollys
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.)
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December 15, 2005
America's Funniest Coincidences
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.
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December 13, 2005
How 21st Century!
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...
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December 2, 2005
Ring Finger
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.
Posted by edgore at 11:29 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
October 20, 2005
Do the Right Thing
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.
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October 7, 2005
While We Are On The Subject Of Work
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.
Posted by edgore at 4:07 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
An Excess of Posts/Stuff to Do
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.
Posted by edgore at 2:43 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Strength in Adversity?
Ah well, so sue me, I can't stay content-free for more than a day.
Yesterday I was taken aside at work by my former boss. Oh great, I'm thinking, what have I done wrong now? Turns out that what he wanted to do was make sure that I was aware that executive management was complimenting me lately, saying that I was doing a great job and that a VP had called me an exceptional performer, highlighting the excellent work that I had been doing over the last month in particular. Ha, ha, ha! The last month!
I guess it's true that you can sublimate and re-direct your issues, problems, etc and turn that into something valuable to someone, if not particularly to yourself.
What I would really like is the opportunity to direct all that energy into working on the things that actually matter to me, but I really don't have the ability to do that on my own. It's not an opportunity that I can create on my own, so I guess I will continue to kick ass at work for a while.
I promise that tomorrow I will write something really, really superficial, like a review of Serenity or something.
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October 1, 2005
What the ^&#@ Do We Know?
I have tried writing 6 entires to use this title tonight. It's a great title, with a movie tie in and everything, but I can't seem to find the right words for an entry that matches up to what is in my head. It's something along the lines of "I don't know what the right answer is, but I know when the answer is wrong".
I'm pretty sure there is something in quantum physics, or maybe Zen Buddhism that says it better, but right now I can't be bothered to Google for it.
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September 28, 2005
What Atheism Means To Me
I don't think I have ever mentioned this before, but I am an atheist. You could probably guess from some of the previous posts though, since I have occasionally talked about religion, or intelligent design, or starting my own cult that allows you to believe any stupid thing you want.
Lately though, I have been thinking about what it actually means to me to and my life to be an atheist.
First off, what do I mean when I say that I am an atheist? I don't just mean that I am not a Christian, or that I don't believe in "spirituality. What I mean is that I believe that life is an accident (though probably inevitable given the size and age of the universe), that nobody created any of it - not the universe, not us. When we die, we die, there is nothing after that - our consciousness does not survive in any form. In fact, even when we are alive I don't think that most of us are self aware enough to be much more than meat robots who do what their hormones and brain chemistry tell them feels good. I don't mean that as an insult; I'm just as guilty of being a meat robot anyone else.
Seems pretty grim, huh? Actually though, I think that makes everything more wonderful, and more important. Think about it - there is no "God's Plan", there is no destiny. You make your own choices, and succeed or fail on your own. Your choices matter, and this is the only chance that you get, so it's important to make the best choices you can. Your actions matter, not your prayers. Isn't that empowering, if your not afraid to take the responsbility that comes with it?
People often lump together religion and morality, but really there is no connection. Religion offers carrots and sticks, but doesn't ever put the reigns in your hand and trust you to do what's right simply because it's right. As far as morality goes, isn't it better to do the right thing because it's the right thing, and not because you have been threatened with eternal fire? When I do the right thing it's because I know it's the right thing. When I don't do the right thing, it's because I'm an asshole; not because the devil made me do it.Though because I know that this is the only chance I get, I try not to do that, and I really regret it when I do. Not because I'll go to hell, but because I have failed to live up to my vision of the best person that I can be, and because when I do that someone else usually gets hurt.
I also need to find meaning in death in different ways than people who believe that death is not the end. When Marcus died, he died. He's not watching over us. But he is everywhere. I am the person that I am today because I knew Marcus. As long as there are people alive that Marcus touched he's not really gone. I think about things differently (not always better) because he was in my life, and I suppose everyone that I interact with is affected by Marcus indirectly because of that, so it's like ripples in a pond. He's gone, but his actions in life and who he was continues to affect other people.
That's the kind of afterlife I can believe in, and I want to have for myself. The thing is, for a long time I haven't lived my life in a way that causes those kinds of ripples. I've been living my life for other people, and that is not something that anyone (other than maybe Mother Teresa) gets remembered for.
I think I need to start. Because this is the only chance I get.
Now that I re-read that, I guess I don't find meaning in death. Because I think death is the end, I need to squeeze all the meaning I can out of life.
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September 26, 2005
Scratch That
Turns out that sometimes things are not worth trying to fix, and that you can't do anything about how fucked up another person is.
Music: Liar, Rollins Band
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September 22, 2005
About Last Night
I came away feeling pretty good, considering. I slept all night, which is something in itself.
I still have no idea what will happen. I still feel terrible sometimes. At least I now have enough of "the thing with feathers" to make it through those times. This is without a doubt the hardest thing I have ever done, but it gives me a chance to avoid the hardest thing I would ever have to do.
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September 21, 2005
Playlist for The New World Order
I've decided that I need to use applied music therapy on myself. Rather than allowing myself to listen to music that satisfies my inner jackass, I am only listening to music that has positive connotations for me, or is otherwise uplifting. In this way I will accentuate the positive, and conversely, eliminate the negative. Mister In-Between will remain un-messed around.
So far it's working, somewhat. The songs that run through my head are less gloomy, and my unscientific (because I am not wearing protective eyewear) analysis is that I do feel better. There are probably many other factors involved, but I do think it's making a difference.
Songs that have made it through the filter today include:
Wishing
Fallen Angel
Funny Funny Me
We Could Write Letters
Breakout (for odd reasons)
Live as You Dream
Phoenix
Give 'Em Whiskey
Dirt
Groove is in the Heart
And several prancing jangly tunes by the Ocean Blue.
I will follow up on this post with more scientific results in the future (after putting on protective eyewear).
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September 17, 2005
Well, It's Good To Know...
That #2 (see below) can still make me happy. Two very sweet baby deer and their mom were in the backyard earlier. I got to look at them for at least 1 minute before the dogs found out - possibly because I made the mistake of saying "Awww" when one of them looked right at me.
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September 16, 2005
It's Not As Funny...
That whenever you try not to think of something, it's all you can think about. For example, don't think about matches.
See.
All of the sudden matches are all you can think of.
Posted by edgore at 9:31 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
It's Funny...
That the times when things are at their very worst, and you just don't think you can deal with anything else are the times when you have to be at your best.
For example, say you are hiking, and you fall off a cliff. Your lying there at the bottom, pretty sure that every bone in your body is broken. That, of course, is the time when you have to start thinking about how you are going to build a fire to attract rescuers. After the fire goes out, you realize that there aren't any rescuers, and if you want to live, you need to hike out yourself.
This can be applied to many things in life; shipwrecks, plane crashes, volcanos, tornados. Many things.
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September 13, 2005
Man Of Action
I have always been a problem solving person. If somebody tells me there is a problem, I try to find a solution.
I'm discovering the hard way that not all problems can be approached this way. In fact, sometimes it can make it worse. Not all problems can be solved, and those that ca be solved can't always be solved the way I think they can. In fact, sometimes my solution can make it worse.
So what do you do? How do you solve a problem that can't be solved by trying to solve it. I don't know, but I am looking for a solution.
I am, of course, referring to complex computer algorithms in this post.
Note to self, the "More Personal That Usual" category seems to be increasingly usual.
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September 12, 2005
Things That Make Me Happy
This is based on a post by Wil Wheaton, which is based on a post by John Kovalic, the theme being, "Things That Make Me Happy" (or cheerful, whatever). So...
- Saying "Do you want to go for a ride in the car!" to Pumpkin, my dog, and watching all 78 pounds of him levitate into the air and spin around over and over.
- Being in the kitchen, cooking, or doing dishes, and looking out the window to see a baby deer sitting in the middle of the backyard, before the dogs notice it and go crazy barking.
- Attempting some technical feat that I have never tried (like, I dunno, customizing OS Commerce for my wife's site, in PHP, which I don't know) and totally succeeding at it.
- Buying a book I know nothing about, based on the title or the cover, and having it turn out to be excellent.
- Driving with Sharon, with her in control of the MP3 player, picking out songs that we both like.
- Cooking and then having people enjoy what I cooked, especially if it is something I have never tried cooking before. Actually, cooking in general makes me pretty happy.
- Halloween. For a long time now it has taken over as my favorite holiday, handily beating out Christmas, and Arbor day.
- Pirates. Things with Pirates just make me very happy.
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April 4, 2005
Increasingly Morbid
So, I am once again becoming increasingly morbid.
While I still worry about the deaths of those around me, I have also begun to worry about my own death.
Making sure that Sharon knows where the life insurance information is, stuff like that. Worrying about whether or not they will all be okay if something happens to me.
I don't know if it's because of my on-going (and very minor, completely non-life-threatening) string of medical problems, or if it's just another expression of the seemingly unending, crushing depression I'm suffering from these days, but it's on my mind an awful lot.
What's weird, and what makes me think it's depression-related, is that I don't worry about them missing me, or being sad - I worry that they won't have the password for the bill payment system.
I don't worry about things that I haven't said - I worry that I haven't left very good notes. Hopefully if I work on that over the next week or two it will let me move on to worrying about something else (no doubt equally morbid).
On the upside, I am getting a lot of reading done.
Update: Oddly, It was about a year ago that I wrote the entry I linked to above. Maybe I have seasonal affective disorder...)
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March 2, 2004
Morbid, Morbid, Morbid
I don't know if it's because I am getting older, or what, but I find myself increasingly obsessed with mortality. Not my own, mind you, I am never going to die, but that of those around me.
In particular, that of my wife, Sharon. If she's late home from somewhere, it's snowing, and she does not have her phone with her, I spend every moment worrying that she has been in an accident, and is now dead.
When I have nothing else on my mind, rather than running "Peter's Theme" from Peter and the Wolf over and over in my head, as I normally would, I will find myself thinking about how horrible it would be to lose her.
I really have no idea what has brought this on. I mean, it's not as if she's in any more danger than she was last year when she leaves the house. It's also not as if it would have been less horrible to lose her last year.
I'm just thinking about it more, and about how much she means to me.
Posted by edgore at 4:52 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
