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I read something today that I really want to write about, but it defies me what to say. Apparently there's a growing drug problem among the Amish in Pennsylvania. On one hand, this seems like great fodder for some jokes. On the other, this is serious stuff. I don't know if this represents something wrong with our world, or if the fact that even the Amish have drug problems shows that we're all human.
Apparently a new word has entered the vocabulary. The word is "hollon." It's used when you answer the phone and the person on the other end asks to speak to a specific person. You say "hollon" and put the phone down. Apparently "hollon" means "I'm going to ignore you for an indeterminate amount of time, then let someone else pick up the phone and find out what you want. Or possibly I'll just wait until I've forgotten that I've spoken to you and we'll start over."
I've got to get a new job.
I've noticed something interesting. I type these entries using a word processor so I can spell check them before I copy the text into an HTML editor. Most of the time when I type (i.e. in chat) I have piles of typos. I cringe every time I hit send because I then spot all the mistakes I make. But when I check these things, there's almost never any errors. Just the fact that it's going to be checked before anybody sees it seems to improve my typing immensely.
Just a couple random thoughts from the notebook:
Is it just a southern thing? Or am I the weird one? I -- too often -- stop at a fast food place for a heinously unhealthy breakfast on my way to work. Every time I order a sausage and egg biscuit they ask me if I want jelly to go on that. Who puts jelly on sausage and eggs?
I'm still chuckling to myself about the imaginary Puff Daddy remix I thought of the other day. Re-doing the old Falco song as "Rock Me, Amistad!" hehehehehehe...
Okay, I'll go get help now.
When I started keeping a journal here I bought a small spiral notebook to carry around with me. I realized thoughts would occur to me throughout the day and I wouldn't have access to the computer to record them. So the idea was that I would jot them down in the notebook to remind me later when I sat down at the computer to write this. Except all too often, I would forget to write them down even though I had the notebook handy. It's so easy to think, "I'll remember to make note of that later." Then when "later" gets here all I can remember is that I was supposed to make note of something, but I no longer have any idea what. :-/
I still carry the notebook, and I'm getting better at making notes in it. -- Someday I might even tell you about the notes I've jotted down for use in this journal. ;-)
Okay, I'm really excited tonight. I bought a new yo-yo! Hey, this thing is neat. It's even got a "brain." The brain is actually a clutch that's activated by centrifugal force. It let's this thing sleep until the spin slows down a bit at which point it automatically returns. I think it's neat and I'm happy, so y'all just leave me alone and let me play with my yo-yo.
So, what's new?
Before & After
There's no real reason for this change other than a desire to try something different for a while. There was no political or philosophical statement being made by the long hair. And the short doesn't represent any kind of reversal of those views. I just got tired of taking care of the long hair and felt like wearing it short for a while. Eventually, I'll probably let it grow out again -- or shave it all off.
Heh heh.
Some people have noticed that my journal entries are a little sporadic lately. That's because I have a lot going on. But it's personal stuff that I don't feel like sharing with everybody. As much as I would like this to be an honest chronicle of my life, I'm not prepared to be 100% forthcoming here. I have no desire to make a play for anyone's sympathy. Just understand that sometimes I have things I have to deal with on a personal level, and that can get in the way of writing this journal.
"I'm okay, thanks for asking. I'll let you know if I need anything."
Since I live in a blighted area devoid of any semblance of a decent radio station, and I absolutely must have radio noise in my car when I drive, I find myself by process of elimination listening to a syndicated morning show that I hate while driving to work. One of the features of this show is an old coot by the name of Robert D. Raiford who provides irrelevant commentaries every half hour. One of his pet peeves is not using proper etiquette in correspondence, i.e. your full name and return address (postal address -- not e-mail) on every thing you write. Today he was complaining about some junk mail he received from the National Gay Pilot's Association inviting him to join. Even worse than the "Gaybos and Lesbos" (His terms) wanting him to join them, was the way the president of the organization signed his name: "Ron." To quote Raiford: "The faggot wouldn't even put his full name."
I've got to find a new station to listen to.
I saw a friend who I hadn't seen for several months last night. Something I noticed was her eyes. For some reason I hadn't paid much attention to them before. She has beautiful eyes. Great color. A lot of people use the term "hazel" when they don't know what color to call eyes. My friend has hazel eyes -- true hazel. It's a wonderful color -- predominately green, but with luminous golden-brown highlights. Looking at those eyes just made me want to smack the next person who tries to describe muddy, indistinct blue eyes as hazel. Hazel is a bold, passionate, expressive eye color. There's nothing vague or indecisive about it. Real hazel eyes are probably my second favorite color.
You don't want to get me started on deep, dark brown eyes. ;-)
More often than not just asking that question is all you can do. Many times you find yourself in a position that there's nothing that can really be done about. But knowing you have friends that would help if needed can make all the difference. So, make the offer -- but don't be hurt if the intended object of your assistance turns you down. More than likely, just offering has done more good than any action you could take.
"I'm okay, but thanks for asking. I'll keep you in mind if I need anything."
Okay, how about a little movie related rambling? A conversation with a co-worker today turned to the subject of attractive men in movies. She was saying that a certain actor -- formerly quite good-looking -- wasn't aging very well. This, of course, brought up the current foremost example of a man who is aging very well: Sean Connery. I don't know many women who don't find him attractive and sexy despite the fact that he must be somewhere between 70 and dead by now. She felt that he was so good looking that he should be cryogenically preserved at death so that generations yet to come can see how good he looked. They should build a museum to hold his perfectly preserved corpse. And in the lobby they should sell Sean Connery shaped popsicles. (ehem. -- enough said about that.)
My own observation on movies is that I've been wanting to see a collaborative effort by two directors: Oliver Stone and Spike Lee. Face it -- this would be one of the most talked about movies of all time. Can you imagine what people would think? The one drawback is I couldn't really come up with a good subject matter for these two to tackle -- until now. A biographical epic on the life of Barry Goldwater. Okay, I'll stop now.
Profound thought for the day: "My God, it's JUNE already!" Really -- it hit me today that it's already June, and I promised myself this was the year I was gonna get my act together. It wasn't really a New Year's resolution because I don't bother with those. I can't say that I've ever heard of anyone keeping one. Here's a challenge to the readers of this -- if you have a good story of a kept New Year's resolution tell me about it. Anyway taking stock today, I realized I haven't made much progress at all this year. I'll work on that so I can report something positive here in the not too distant future.
Not really all that deep or profound, but I realized tonight what the hardest thing about changing a light bulb is: resisting the urge to "turn on the damn light so you can see what the hell you're doing."
Think about it.
