15,560 views ... Cyber rubber-necking on MySpace

I've posted and deleted ooddles of blogs on MySpace. I didn't want to stop because it clears clutter from my mind *and the web is a great clutter catcher.

But it really creeps me out how many people were looking at my brain vomit, and worse yet... WHY?

I had a alot of open heart surgeries on there too and I am starting to feel a little violated. So blogger, her I am.

I can see why curiosity killed the cat.

OMG! It's 1am AGAIN! I have got to stop getting so interested, curious, caught up in random stuff. I seriously need sleep, not stockpiles of random information to add to the overpopulation going on in my head.

Last week, I discovered I hadn't looked at onDemand deep enough to find all the shows I'd never seen but If I satyed up really really late, I could be cool like everyone else and know what's going on in "The Bad Girl's Club"

A few nights ago I sat and edited and archived over 2,000 photographs.  And don't even get me started on what Limewire does to me!

Tonight (or yesterday) I moved almost every last one of my blogs that I hadn't already deleted over here from MySpace. Then, instead of calling it a night, I got somehow lost in 3 or four other people's blogs. You guys are KILLING me! Stop being so interesting.

I admit to the OCD, but if this is how it's going to manifest itself, I'm in deep trouble. I liked it better when I was fussy about the way the labels faced in the cupboards.

Right now I wish I was a wife or a little kid or a mental patient and I had soomeone to tell me to go to bed.

Dammit.

Microsoft

Ok, so I'm usually not easily riled, but this is really starting to piss me off. Why does Word crash every time I try to cut, delete, or otherwise tweak the notebook project I'm working on?

The unfortunate state of Matrimony

"Marriage is not romance, it is a contract with the state" CSI

Thought on upgrades...

So a couple of days ago I updated my phone. I got some great new surprises, like the ability to customize my 'desktop' with new thingys, widgets and gadgets and even the ability to have multiple desktops. I can now do as your basic no-camera 2002 Motorola can do and send texts to multiple people at once. As my excitement dies down and all the little asthetic loving endorphins exhaust themselves and go back to their barcaloungers in their corner of my brain. That whole left side kicks in and goes to work. I'm thinking, "hey, these are cool features, but didn't I have all that on my Palm? Granted it was like shopping at WalMart as opposed to Saks Fifth Avenue, and it was as clumsy as the old 'mainframe' back in the day, but the features were there. I know that I'm a slave to asthetics. I have to be... I'm an atrist. But I'm also very loyal and sentimental. It pissed me off a little bit when I had to trade in the aftermarket app (custom ringtones from your mp3's) because the software is no longer compatible.

It's the case for everything in life. We are always enticed to trade up. Dazzled by coolness and newness. Design fitting of MoMa. But how often do we acctually look back at what we left behind in this little trade up?

I did. My heart sank as my mind applied software's dragon chase to my life. I think about my first love and wonder if it was worth it for us to trade each other in for an updated version. I doubt either of us realized we were just following a pied piper and that new version was just a fresh version of what we already had. And it too would someday feel obsolete. I don't know why I could recognize the lost that app but it's taken me 15 years to open my eyes to what I traded away blindly. Things that were real. Worth something. I wish sometimes I could live in conscious quantum physics and voyeur my life in every path I didn't take. But like I've said dozens of times as of late... without Risk, there is no Reward. And to toss out those oh-so-annoying movie quotes: "The sweet would never be nearly as sweet without the bitter."

And all I can do is appreciate what is in front of me. Life in regret is no life.

*Oh see, I feel bad now for dissing my poor phone, I didn't know I got GPS.  damn conclusion jumping!

My system needs a Chapter 13 re-org

Crazy stuff happening lately. I can't sleep. I've tried blaming it on everything around me, but it's no one else's fault. I look like shit because I'm sleep deprived but I'm not worried.

I'm certain I'll bounce back to normal soon. Aside from my brain being stuck on overdrive I fell great. I'm happy, creative, and a whole lot of warm fuzzies theses past 2 months. But all of the componants aren't playing nice with each other. A happy emotional state still get's tired if its roommate (the brain) won't quit partying all night. Minds can't deliver top performance after too many late nights and overspending themselves.

A Chapter 13 reorganization would work.

My Monologue

I just wrote my monologue in raw honest prose and delivered without voice over yahoo and gmail. Just so sick of being put on a pedestal. I give away my strenghs without ration or fair price. They carve of the golden outer edges and reveal the raw soul swaying in passion’s pendulum. Sitting high enough still enough alone enough that worship turns into critique.

But you, you thought there was something about me you just had to figure out. You asked enough questions. I know I’m a mess, but I’m sensual intelligent and complex. They wrap their minds about attributes of excellence and turn a blind eye to blemishes and defects. I always give the best up front. But they don’t ration, all that is left is a valley of imperfections. An uphill climb for us to endure is too much of a bother just together so I can recollect assets. Its fractures and scars are baggage they won’t accept. I’m alone again and I learn to breathe again… to love myself… to regain faith. This time I gave him the dark, the ugly

I just want to start off when it’s high knowing the lows so that there’s no struggle uphill. You see the worst of me explicated in brutal humility… the best is all that’s left. If not you, I know I’ll find somebody looking to roll downhill side by side.

35 (grammer school and Kenny Rogers lessons for life)

I met this beautiful, funny, succesful woman the other day. Instantly my grumpy self was sucked into a lively bad-mood squelching conversation like the ones with my best girlfriends. I was giggling and telling secrets in no time. Maybe because we 'knew of each other' by the public exposure to each other's professional accomplishments. Or maybe she was just one of those likeable and charismatic people that pass through our lives. She might be a real jerk playing "bad cop' but I'd bet the lot that she's all~right.

But for whatever reason, we talked about personal things we (grown women) usually try to hide from casual aquaintences. Anyhow, she shared with me that she spent her 35th bithday having a great time. But inspite, she couldn't stop crying. "What's wrong with me? I've never felt emotional about aging before!"

In my newly 37 year old wisdom, I said it's normal.

35 is worse than forty because no one makes a big deal about it, but it sucker punches each one of us at precisely 35. You heard about 40, so you're ready for climbing over the hill. Plus, even if you don't keep yourself up, you get ego strokes about how amazing you are to be forty. No one wants to upset a woman on the verge of menopause. Compliments are abundant. 40 isn't so bad.

So what's so bad about 35? We should have seen it coming because we learned about it in second grade math. WITH 5, YOU ALWAYS ROUND UP. Up until 34, we were still closer to 20's than 40's! But that damn "rule of 5" just thrust us into 40!!! BUT I"M NOT READY! Wait, just give me more time!

All I can say now is: don't let 35 get to you. I had no better option than to decide (after a couple of good tear-sessions) that it was gonna be alright. Like the awkward teens, 35 goes away. By 36, if you're smart you tidy up the mes that 35 left and you donate all that old baggage to charity. Relief sets in and soon you're feeling you're prime. You stop worrying about pleasing others and really get to know yourself.

Like I always say, "I'm the grass in the back yard, I get cut time after time... but I grow back more lush everytime. And besides: the slap of 40 would hurt a helluva lot worse without the eye-opener called "35"

When you accept aging you accept yourself, flaws and all.

Today a new friend asked me what I was all about. It was all suspicious, something about me wasn't right. It wasn't the first time I've been accused of having a big secret. I've been called an enigma more times than I have toes. It used to bother me, that everyone had to figure me out. I confuse myself all the time. If I don't understand, how can I explicate to another? But confusion aside, I traded ego for honesty and it dawned on me that laying out in the beginning could save us both heartache and time. I told him who I was. Honestly WHO I WAS. It was stunning in it's simplicity. I am who I am. I am always trying to improve. No skelatons here baby! I exposed. I gave the facts. If anything, good or bad about me that got me to 35 was unacceptable, knowing now is priceless because now would be the time to exit. Nothing gained, nothing lost.

By accepting 35 with grace and dignity I could see who I was through my OWN eyes. I was able to forgive, let go, learn, and grow. I was free to understand what I wanted, and confident to accept nothing less. We win, we lose. I know reward necessitates risk. I never had a good poker face, so why try? I like my hand I've been dealt (BECAUSE IT'S MINE) and it's now up to you to hold or fold.

Attraction

January 10, 2008 - Thursday


Attraction
Instant and effortless
Dopamine dictates. I have no choice
It's not temptation
It's too late. I tasted. Not ice cream this time
I feel it as my mind tries to wrap itself around and calm
Pleasure's scent intoxicates will power

Attraction
Senses alive
School girl thoughts dance anxiously
Seducing libido into love-making
Until sweat and pleasure's oil intertwine
I'll sleep in passion's electric blanket
And recover body then mind
Return into pragmatic bachelor-ette
Control that waits patiently
To take the wheel again and drive.....

Watching out for numero uno

January 2, 2008 - Wednesday


Misunderstanding (added a side of back-atcha)

If you ever get to listen to Genesis's "Duke" from 1980. Take special note of "Misunderstanding"

It's sad.
It's honest
It's hopeful...

But it shouldn't be. This poor guy just wants to know the truth. But she just pulled the rug from under him. Sucker-punched him. Call it whatever you will, he just wanted the truth. No 'lead me on' when she should have said 'let it go'

Yes, our world is just as ugly now, maybe worse. There are more devices to tease and falsify than young Peter Gabriel could have dreamed of. More ways to be dishonest because we don't have the courage to tell it like it is. Some say they are being nice, letting you down easy... from the crash of a relationship ending, a job lost, or worse. Others are just trying to keep you hanging unknowingly as they search for your replacement. Pretty good way for them to not feel even a slight tailwind of the blow they are about to serve you. Doesn't take a physicist to know that YOU will be getting the full force of this wallup! But if we all just had honor and settled things with gunfights at high noon and the sting of "it's not working out" instead of the stab of being played a fool where even hindsight was blind. What happened to having the ethics and balls to let people know there's a problem and give the choice to stay and work at making a failing situation improve, or to move on with their dignity intact... Maybe if we did, we wouldn't have to become jaded and join the Enrons of the world. Sink to the likes of sneaks and spineless souless disapointments that have nothing left of honesty and empathy.

Poor guy, and he isn't even an ass to her. He just tries to hold on to what's left of his dignity and call it a "misunderstanding"

As for me... don't worry, I'm a little more perceptive (or perhaps cynical) and those spidey senses were tingling so I did some of my (yes, I used to work for an attorney AND participated in the "Ethics Bowl" in college) own 'discovery and I'm ready for this one. When the punch is thrown...

I have that wonderful armour called: 'taste of your own medicine' or even better, 'karma hurts if you've done dirty'



And that is gonna HURT... but not me ;)

love to you all.... Listen to Genesis