19.2.07

hbday nic

"I know the thoughts of a philosopher do not depend on the judgment of the many, yet when I considered how absurd my doctrine would appear, I long hesitated whether I should publish my book."

Nicolaus Copernicus

14.2.07

All Settled

I've settled a lot in my lifetime. It's a peculiar thing for me to own that, but I have; so I do. At the times, I never thought I'd ever settled, or ever would settle, in my lifetime. Heh. Good luck with that.

I have to try to consider those times to've been learning opportunites, probably because Lesson Learned is quite a bit more palatable than is Wasted Time. I don't ever want to feel as if I've wasted my time. That's always my fear. The times I spent relationshipping between the late nineties, when I decided to stop settling, and 2002 still contained various forms of settling. That gets a little haunting sometimes -- like those moments when, as Meatloaf sang, "objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are". Yea, that kinda haunting.

Anyway, I have to say that I'm glad I settled when I did, and I'm glad I stopped settling relatively soon after I'd said I would. I definitely learned more about the human condition. And I think the human condition sucks, by the way.

But seriously, the settling I did was like my Honey describes -- the "at least I know the rules to this hell" variety. The stuff I put up with . . . there is one in particular. She was a deaf Jewish vegetarian lesbisexual single parent. But I fell in love with her daughter. Oh, she was my sweetheart . . . I could deny that child nothing, although I did make sure that she was respectful and courteous and thoughtful. I remember this one day, she was in kindergarten, and we'd walked her to her bus stop. There was a new kid there, and so she introduced herself, then her mother, then me, her mother's girlfriend. I was so gone . . . hook, line, and sinker. LOL And I put up with so much shit from Ms DJVLBSP! Fuck! LOL Oh my God, the changes . . . Her ex-husband was still in the picture as the non-custodial parent who still wanted her back, but then decided that he had a crush on me as well, and just couldn't understand why his ex-wife was with me instead of him. He also didn't get why Little A-Bell (my nickname for her) stopped wanting to stay with him for the weekend whenever I was around. So I would sit in the car . . . and wait. And then I'd hear her scream at the top of her lungs and no-body or no-thing could keep me from haulin' ass in there to get to her and comfort her. Every other week, it was the same thing. And her mom and I didn't even live together! I'd put Little A-Bell to bed at night, we'd say her prayers together, I'd make her clean her room, help her with her homework, play with her on the McDonald's playground . . . I'd take off work to sit in the floor and color and draw butterflies with her . . . I met her teachers, went to her Kindergarten graduation, felt like a putz when I couldn't make her Thanksgiving thing at school . . . Heart and soul, hooklineandsinker, that was me.

So I put up with Ms DJVLBSP's ex and his exasperatedly pissed off looks when I'd move him out of my way so I could figure out what the hell made Little A-Bell scream like she did. I tried to be fair. On his weekends, I did get her to spend one night, but I'd be damned if she was gonna have to stay two -- we were there bright and early those Saturday mornings to get her because I'd given her my word. K, I know, I know, but remember, this kid had my heart on a string, okay? LOL I put up with his dirty looks when he'd come over and I'd be there, and I put up with Ms DJVLBSP's lying, cheating, and jealous rages. Her paranoia, her freakish control issues (*really* freakish control issues), and her whole kit and unmedicated, non-medically compliant bipolar impulses kaboodle . . .

But the child's happiness and well-being was worth it to me, so I did it.

I'd love to file that one in my "never again" file, but as those of us in the know, know, never can only be "never" once -- you can't "never" anything again. But you can . . . as I learned from a very dear teacher, you can "not anymore". Anything you've ever said that you'll never do, and then did, you can't "never" it again -- but you can "not" it, anymore. So I don't have a "never again" file. Such doesn't exist for me. But I do have a "not anymore" file, and you definitely believe that I will not that -- settle -- anymore.

Another song comes to mind when I think of that time in my life: Dierks Bentley, "I knew what I was feelin' . . . But what was I thinkin'?" Funny, that.
slack is good
slack is fun
slack is what
says walk, don't run
slack is good for me and you
let's all sing "Slack Hallelu"!

slack, slack, slack, slack
slack, slack, slack slack
slackslackslackslackslackslackslack
slack, slack,slack,slack
slackslackslackslackslackslackslack

now you know the slackslack song
won't you kindly sing along
but not if it seems like too much work
cuz that's not where the best slack lurks

slack, slack, slack, slack
slack, slack, slack slack
slackslackslackslackslackslackslack
slack, slack,slack,slack
slackslackslackslackslackslackslack

sing along, chil'ren

slack, slack, slack, slack
slack, slack, slack slack
slackslackslackslackslackslackslack
slack, slack,slack,slack
slackslackslackslackslackslackslack

git ready, this is the bridge!

slack, slack,slack,slack

slackslackslackslackslackslack
slaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-ckUH!

3.2.07

i love my boy. he's such an unbelievably gifted smartass. at least give me a chance to feel sorry for you, he says. wonderful smartass . . . i said to him, on the way to the train station a few weeks ago, you know, if you wasn't my kid, i'd say fuck you right about now. my sweet child of a smart ass flips it right back and says, in his surly fuck-you tone, yea mom, like, i'm really glad i'm your kid right now. fuck! he's gettin good. where the hell did that come from?

i wonder what he's doin . . . i should catch up. it's been a coupla days.

friggin smartass

i hope you're readin this, boy. it's all about you.

she says, as she hears smartass in the background -- yea, mom, it's always all about me, didn't you know that?

where the hell does he get that from?

1.2.07

FUCK! Redux

How is it that a writer of such amazing proportions can kick off, yet whose death is completely ignored by mainstream news media?

What the fuck . . .

What I mean to say is, What the fuck is that about?

Shit, I've got a class.

This ain't over. I ain't sung yet.