Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Staring at an empty screen. Wary of being misunderstood. Not so wary I can't stop and say Hi.

Went to Baby Kay's Cajun Kitchen last night. They have a small bar, and a man and a woman sat there drinking and eating appetizers. He was watching sports, and she had a tablet and was watching cartoons. Technology is bringing us together in more ways than it is pushing us apart.

Lots of good music. Have a Google Music station based on Daughter, and it's brought me to Meadowlark, and AURORA, and Tom Rosenthal. I worry about sinking too deeply into melancholy. Hasn't happened so far. I enjoy the quiet wanderings of memory. Like a museum after hours, the night watchman, shining light on the exhibits. Can take them in in bits and pieces, and not be overwhelmed.

The phrase "slipped in and out of heaven" has been running through my head. From Peter Pan, I think. When it's talking about the hidden kiss. Something like "They that find it have slipped in and out of heaven."

It's a useful concept. Heaven exists, but only for small moments.

Friday, August 10, 2018

Monsoon storms with bullying winds and explosive thunder. Kept me up late but I feel okay.

Wednesday, August 08, 2018

Yesterday was the funeral for Grandpa Don Liem. It was a great service with heartfelt speeches and the recounting of many tales of adventure and merriment. It was good to see the all the Liem's again.

It was sad and happy at the same time. There was a luncheon afterwards, and it felt just like one of Grandpa Don's old parties. It's been a long time, and I'd forgotten how important the family is to us. Grandpa Don and Grandma Liem have been like my parent's parents.

Monday, August 06, 2018

Here's what I'd do if I were still alive
Laugh in 8 languages
Tell jokes in five
I'd taste every pie to find which is best
Jump into the sky and share all of the rest

Every song would be turned up too loud
Don't know the words but I'd sing it somehow

I'd goose all the masters 'cept right to their face
They get so confused when there's nothing to chase

Take a quick nap with all of the hounds
Wake up for some supper and then, homeward bound

Friday, August 03, 2018

Gather ye round and I'll tell you a tale. Back the olden days, there was no Gmail. Then a select few, including users of Blogger, were bestowed the mighty responsibility of their own accounts and a handful of invites. I remember getting an excited call from Beth Clark (not a text message). "I heard you have Gmail!" she said excitedly. I think she actually asked on behalf of someone else, because she's giving like that. I don't remember if she asked for one herself. I suppose I could trudge down the archives and check. It's probably filed somewhere between pufferfish and bubble bath.

And now, back to the future, I have some 3,000 unread emails. Mostly spam. I think. I should take a day to look through them. I haven't spoken to any exiled princes lately.

I remember forwarding a chain letter once. I didn't believe it on its face; I was curious about how it could possibly track whether I forwarded it or now. Was there some hidden code that would be executed somehow? There weren't any links in it, and this was before I knew how to check source code. I sent it and nothing happened, not even a virus. I was disappointed.

Now, we all know that emails are being scooped up and collected, just not by benevolent forces. No, only the regular forces. The ones that have always been there. 

Thursday, August 02, 2018

The new brain pills are more expensive, but if this is the cost of being able to dream, I will pay it.

It's where I can see people that I don't see anymore. It's like a memory bank full of counterfeits, but I can study the copies to help me better understand the real ones. There's probably a danger in confusing the two.

Emily Haines's song, Nihilist Abyss just came on and the song illustrates it pretty well:

When I walk alone I'm walking with you
When I sleep alone I'm sleeping with you

It's difficult holding so many people in your head all the time. With dreams, it's almost manageable. Even if it means letting them go all over again.

Wednesday, August 01, 2018

Instead of writing yesterday, I spent my breaks reading "Scientific American" magazine. Then I cut out pictures I liked to make collage. Or, I plan to make a collage. Right now I've only made a file folder full of scraps of paper. 

Maybe I'll make them for myself instead of work. Putting them up at work may make me look a little insane. Limit my artistic expression. Can't have that.

Not being able to go to my mom's for breakfast means I've been going over for dinner. It's nice because I'm not full of morning-grump. I'll talk, and listen.

Now I'm thinking about cork boards. I'll cork up all the images, then slowly fix them to paper permanently.

Bah, I'm so resentful of creating at/for cubicle decoration. As if I'm putting on airs. I want something to look at, but I don't want to be labeled as interesting. That's too much pressure man.