Thursday, September 23, 2004

I don't know

I don't know what I am talking about.

As evidence, take into account that I am married. I proposed. I knew I wanted to be married like nine months before I asked her. I participated more than a little bit (i.e. slightly less than half) in the marriage/reception planning and execution. I moved her into my/house mates apartment (with not a ton of notice or consideration for my current house mates) during two weeks she was in California, she came back as the wicked witch of the West and told me (eventually) she was pregnant with our child. It took me a couple of days to compensate for the shock of this message. I grew up in the next three weeks. Quit my current job, got a new job, re-arranged the living situation, looked into state/Federal/private assistance to facilitate the new one in the unit, stopped drinking, smoking, carousing, fun etc... Started reading allot about everything, naturally. Generally freaked out for the next 18 months or so.

Ok, everyone got the mental image?

Now, this isn't a 'bad thing' or even close. Suffice to say I have about as much room to judge for good or ill as anyone else. That isn't much, ok? Except for some people, who not only manage the High Ground but practically have condos there. And maybe some others, who will be wearing the black robes from the High Seat when I am long gone. But, the question that is sticking in my mind at this point is:

"If you're life is a bus, who is driving it?"

Its a pretty easy question at the outset. And not an uncomfortable question either once you know the answer.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

I will follow him wherever he may go.

if events FUN on a XY scatter scale are plotted we will find a curve from 0 which looks remarkably like this:


This is not unlike the perimeter surrounding a pool of vomit after events FUN. Life imitates art. Art imitates a scattered pool of vomit.

Sorites abound.

Talking Dingo

P.S. Happy birthday