All Day Stooges VS Two Day Twilight Zone

Here's the poll people....If you had absolutly nothing to do on a day into eve where everyone else is out with friends and family...whooping it up...singing...eating...drinking...dancing...and eating a piece of herring (cuz it's a ritual)...what would you choose?
Stooges
or
Twilight Zone

Me, I am PIPing...only cuz I need a good giggle here and there, but also need to exercise my quest for some good science fiction.

Fav Twilight....has to be the one with Anthony...the child no one wants to say no to..only because he will turn you into a disgusting looking creature...as if that hasn't already happened to most adults with children anyway!! Ha Ha

So enjoy the last evening of 2004...and bring in the year with a little something more.
Whatever a lonely heart desires.

Seriously...gonna pound a few down and eat my herring.

Torture of a Middle Aged Mind

Sleepless mornings are a totally unfair state of the middle aged. You want to sleep, but can't. You get up to pee, and the body refuses to fall back into oblivion. Birds, squirrels, and the rusltling of leaves cause you to toss and turn. Useless thoughts turn over and over inside your head. These images and ideas are not worth jotting down, so that you remember them when you awake...you are already awake....to your own dismay. This is a TORTURE of the MIDDLE AGED MIND.

Other forms of such unwanted torture may include but are not limited to:

Raising disruptive teens
The inability to stay up passed an hour that most club bands start to perform their very first set
Losing your eyesight-reading the paper, your favorite book, or the yellow pages (to locate a nursing home)
Being able to fit into clothing in the junior department, yet looking absolutly ridiculous in them
Having daily headaches...not hangovers
Your cool body piercing begins to sag

Need I go on?

I think not...however,
One may add to this list if they feel so inclined!...or want to assist me in feeling better about my MIDDLE AGED SELF.

I Might Like You Better If We SURFED Together

That is the saying plastered across the shirt I am wearing today...in aqua blue and lime green against a blackish grey backdrop. Ya see, I DON'T SURF. However, I might like myself better if I knew how to surf, or hung out with surfers, or even just hung on the beach for a while this winter! If I surfed I could keep up an image like that of Frankie and Annette, beach blanket bingo and all. Surf shirts, bikinis, boards, hot dogs. All in the image of sun and fun.

I tried snowboarding ONCE. I couldn't figure out how to stop, and just yelled at people to get out of my way as I slid my sorry ass towards the bottom of the bunny hill. I am actually not even a smiggen of a risk taker when I think about it. The chair lift scared me. Heights in general scare me. A ferris wheel is fun...if I don't look down. I have developed Vertigo in my middle age.

But, in the scheme of things....I might like you better if we surfed together....or just hung out, had a drink, and a laugh or two.

Defending Your Life

Remorse, Regret, Retrospect....all in all, one's life is but the 3 R's.

After viewing the Albert Brooks' flick "Defending Your LIfe" I feel that one's own existence could, in fact, be relived in just but 4-12 days. If you were to pass on this earth and find yourself in a place that had you justify your time, how would you be seen on the screen?

I myself could pick a few days of my life that had true defining moments. The Theme....hmmm..."Doing the Best That You Can".

A time in my childhood that encompassed several years, but yet melt into a few hours of listening to my parents argue into a state that ends in violence, with me in the middle of fists, that ultimatly culminate into a vision of myself in the middle of screams that beg them to break it all up and stop.

A time in my teenage years that have me gulping for a last breath in waters too deep and too dark, seaweed entangled gasps that break my very sense of being and bewilder my senses into a dream that forces me to save the person at my side, in hopes of saving myself. Chokes on the sand and frantic passersby...all seemingly concerned and wondering if swimmers really know how to swim.

A place on a college campus, that finds me alone, pretending to flick through a book that is filled with words that I can not quite comprehend at the time. Not living on campus causes one to alienate themself from the true experience and wonder if advanced education is all that it is cracked up to be. But then, to realize, that when the 1970 Camaro does not turn over in the frigid cold of night, after a 3 Dimensional Design course that runs too long, and a few beers at the Gasthaus later, a slip in the snow could challenge your senses bewteen driving home to a warm feather bed or a trip to the local emergency room.
Others, from the frat house down the block can also do their best at helping a stranger in need.

I defend my life with every good deed that I have extended and every kind accomplishment that others have offered as well. When it all comes around....the steps one takes are rungs on a ladder that leads you to a better place. Whether it be upwards or down...it all takes full circle...in this mad, mad world of defense and offense.

The offensive choices are only in the eyes of those who judge. We do the best that we can...in times that skewed vision is a kalidescope of color and grey. Defend my life...for whom and what reason? It is I who live with the memories.

Winter Solace

Snow gracefully floats from a darkened sky...glistening in the moonlight, cold and crisp. Some flakes are merely frozen ice crystals, flat and shiny. Others are puff balls, the ones that make one smile when landing on your tongue. I sit, in a corner that is not yet covered by the beauty, but still dry enough to land with a glass of wine and yet another moment to myself.

If I wander from this spot I will make tracks that are easily followed. I choose to stay and realize that it will be a long season. As my faithful dog rolls on his back, soon shaking off frigid cold upon the rise, he cocks his head towards a familiar sound traveling through the far off distance. A train rolls down a rusty track. With this sound I picture myself as a traveler, staring blankly out a chilly window into a frosty field. Instead I sit in this spot on the deck, catching snowflakes on my tongue.

Winter can do strange things to a person. It will allow me to enjoy a few good novels, spin slowly to music that plays in my head, and give name to each and every snowflake that drops in my backyard.

To Blog or Not To Blog

So here we are, starting a new blog page...holding onto thoughts of the past, but anticipating new ideas, friends, and totally bloggicious ways to spend my time! Plod onward, into new areas of technology.....