Ender was getting headaches and Barbara took him to get his blood drawn. He panicked and they were unable to get any of his blood, only lots of tears and excuses. We all went together the following Saturday morning. At one point I said, "Me squeezing your shoulder hurts more than the needle will." I am sure I've mentioned it, but for those looking for parenting advice and/or operant conditioning for dummies, I never hit the twins as punishment. The pressure point on their shoulder was my go-to. It's like spanking, I know, but it minimizes the ritualization.

Thus, as Ender is sitting on my lap, he begins to panic again. He twists, shouts, and insists that he suddenly has to use the bathroom. I'm holding him and then he says "Squeeze my shoulder!" I'm like whaaaaat but he says it again, "Memo, squeeze my shoulder!" So I do. Not as hard as I usually do, but hard enough. He stops moving enough for the techs to draw two vials of blood, and then we're done.

I mused on it later. During their conditioning, I've told them several times what I'm doing: "I'm training you. I'm not saying you're bad or good, it's just action and consequence. When you get older, you can choose to reject your training. But even then, you'll still have it available to you."

Were they actually paying attention to the idealized parenting philosophy I'd been spouting as I attempted to care for them? I don't know. At least it worked out this time.

His blood was fine, by the way. A little high in excuses, but who isn't?

The thing about making love to music is that eventually you're going to hear it again. Sitting at work, in a clothing store, or driving, you'll be hit with a wave of physical memories. We're used to remembering events, but this is a deeper memory, the ghosts of sharp breaths and sweat and skin on skin. The scent and the taste. Muscles remember the rhythms of pulling pushing pulsing.

The ghost of you and her.

It will fade, however, as it becomes a memory of a memory. Mirrors reflecting each other into infinity, and darkness.



It wasn't always music. Sometimes it was a movie.

To Do:
Make a list of all the things that will never be the same.
Make a list of all the things that I never want to forget.

If walls are raised around them, find a way to climb over.

Pull them close to me.

There were ways to link to others. Surely there are others.

I should stop at the store on my way home. I may want something to eat besides quesadillas and pie. Surely there is some other circular food that can sustain me. Pizza. Perfect. And maybe some gel inserts for my shoes. Standing at my desk all day combined with walking all evening is painful to the soles.

My knee stopped hurting, at least. I could pick you up again.

I'm so hungry my stomach hurts. Strange, I had a piece of apple pie this morning for breakfast. Pie, why have you forsaken me? It's likely all the water I've been drinking. Yesterday's walk was long and I can't be sure I'm properly hydrated again. Today should be better. I have the big water bottles now.

I was just online looking for a mechanical keyboard to hook up to this Chromebook. I prefer the mechanical keyboards. At least I think I do. The chiclet keys are fond to my fingers. Maybe I don't know what I like.

Portability was the whole point of this. Take it with me so it's as easily available as a notebook. A notebook with an internet connection. What if I have a great idea without an internet connection? Mostly I don't, so I'm not worried.

I've been trying to be less argumentative. People make statements, and instead of a truth value of TRUE or FALSE, I apply a score, like the Olympics. Coming to the correct conclusions with faulty logic, for example, scores higher than a wrong conclusion based on non-facts. Still get my mental exercise. And as a bonus I can isolate their faulty premises and apply a "Conviction Score." If they want to believe it real bad, there's little I can do about it. We find a way.

Invisibilia, the podcast, did a bit on personality. I listened to it while I walked. Personality is malleable, they say. Interesting.

Walking for what feels like forever. Listening for what feels like forever. Everything's a middle. Can't remember the beginning, can't see the end.

Then it does end and it's been 7 miles. Counting vertical feet, apparently, but still pretty good.

I ordered a 24 inch monitor to use at work. Triple screens make me triple mean. According to the tattoo on my lower back. In Ye Olde English font, naturally.

Went to Kelly's grandma's memorial service on Saturday. 7th-Day Adventist church. Lots of vegans. This church kept a bible in their pews (unlike the handful of other churches I had been to for weddings and other impossible-to-get-out-of occasions.

The nephews came over on Saturday evening to play video games and hang out. They came over on Friday, too. We went out and got pizza. The Olympics was on, and we watched. I didn't go in to work like I meant to, but that's because I had some very important sleeping to do.

Deadlines.

Meteor showers every night that I do not awake to watch.