So.... look at what HTML Coding I can do, all by myself! After a blogrant or two, I thought I'd try my hand at something positive for a change. Can you feel the LUV?

GOD*, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference.Reinhold Neibuhr.
Things I cannot change What people say to me The past	Courage to change the things I can the future, including... financial situation job situation how I treat others how I treat myself	Wisdom to know the difference live in the present develop hobbies

*I use God in a collective consciousness sort of way. See, I'm not that anti-religious!

Back to work for me!

Here I am at 4:30 a.m. I woke in the middle of the night, suddenly worried about my last blog entry. I thought it might send out the wrong signal, particularly to a couple of my friends who know I'm doing this. So, I've logged on and toned it down.

A word about how I write may be in order. Sometimes if I'm thinking about something, I have the outline of an entry already in my head when I log on. Other times, I spew out free association. Regardless of the initial draft, I am a person who edits (and re-edits). I try not to edit the original ideas and the entry's original basic format (i.e., paragraphs generally stay the way they were originally written), but I'll go back and tighten up sentences, up to whole paragraphs, to make an idea more clear. I also clean up punctuation and misspellings (if I catch 'em!). There's a bell-curve here, there's a certain point to leave well enough alone.

I won't go on too much about the objectives of this blog here: I've covered that some in other posts. But I will touch base on the relationship of these entries by themselves with the rest of my life. For example, if you have been one of the lucky who reads these entries, you'll see that I'm not looking forward to moving from a location I like to a location I don't like. Future blogentries will no doubt go into nauseating detail as to why I feel that way. And so the blog may -- probably! -- come off darker than how it plays in "real life".

But it's not a vacuum. If you were to eavesdrop on my conversations, you would hear some overlap to this blog, but not entirely and sometimes not at all. Using the "decision to move" example above, I talked long and intensely with friends and family, including everyone you may have been introduced here, about that decision. Should I? Is there a way to avoid it? Will our friendships remain intact if I move an hour away? For better or worse, I'm moving -- and my friends are supportive.

A word on blogethics -- if there is such a thing. I wondered if, by changing a few words of my last entry to "tone it down", I changed the expression of my initial emotion and break my objective of "keepin' it real, (man)." No, I believe the original expression is still there, loud and clear. More generally, another blogethical issue is too-personal references: I have changed some names to initials, for example. But since I'm writing about me me me, there are enough facts included here that someone could, perhaps, figure out the corporate entity for which I so happily work; and while maybe not the specific address, the neighborhood at least, where I live. So far, anyways, that's a chance I am willing to take in the process of freely expressing my thoughts and ideas.

And a final note (to myself and to you dear readers) on blogging: This has engaged me, not only hopefully making me a better writer, but maybe also as a thinker. I don't think I put "improve my writing" or "improve my critical thinking" as any blogobjective (ha ha ha!), but that might be what is happening -- and good! I've been writing constantly and continually the last few months. I continue to keep a handwritten journal, and there's my short story and script ideas. This is a good thing. I don't know if any of this will go anywhere. They don't have to, because I already *am* going somewhere just by doing this. I love it!

Should I go back to bed? I have made a pot of coffee. Here's a final, most ironic, item: I began a project at work yesterday, and I'm half thinking of getting ready for work *now* to continue with it...! And, in case I don't get a chance to jot a line later, and since I know you're all hanging on the edge of your seats wishing to know my weekend plans: I'm going to a party and maybe to Tall Stacks -- a big enough local shindig to initiate Homeland Security security.

Why do I hate the thought of moving back here so much? I've got a few examples, fresh off the press from today's lunch-hour! Warning: Contents may be acerbic.

(1) In the card aisle at Kroger's. I wanted to find a Sympathy card for my ex-boss, whose father died last Friday. Almost every card or category had a heavy dose of Jesus. Bible Quotes; symbols like praying hands or crosses; frequent references to "He","Him", and "His". Yeah, I'm aware that death is a religious event for most people, even for myself; I've shopped for sympathy cards before. But I don't recall encountering evangelicalism to this extent (and in a grocery store for Christ's sake!). There were no categories labeled "Sympathy - Blank Inside", and the selection of ecumenical (or non-Christian) cards was pathetic.

(2) In the same aisle. While looking at cards, I became aware of someone hovering. It was a man pushing a grocery-cart, wearing a corporate-logo golf shirt and a pager. I was going to say "middle aged," and realized that he was probably around my age. He was staring at me when I noticed him, and he nodded when I did a double-take to make sure. I think he was cruising me! He looked "str8-acting", suburban -- maybe he was married with kids. Looking for a quickie on his lunch-hour. Yeah, it's not like I'm up for a Purity Award; my negative reaction is because that could become me!

(3) At the pharmacy counter. Picking up my antibiotics, the clerk asked me to sign a new item, something acknowledging that I had received and read a "privacy act" brochure. I had received one of these same brochures at the doctors' office, so I made a comment wondering whether this was related to efforts to stem the sale of personal names/numbers to, say, companies who bug you to buy stuff, or to address the fear of identity fraud. "No, this is written by lawyers. It's about a group of lawyers looking for more ways to bring civil lawsuits. It's headed by Hillary Clinton."

I kid you not! Should I laugh or cry? It's enough to worry about alcoholism.

I hate going to the doctor, and I really hate the particular office I go to near my work. First of all, when I signed up with them two years ago, I had to fill out form after form on my credit-worthiness (including, I believe, a credit check), so worried were they about whether they would get paid. Then, they have the stupidest rule regarding scheduling appointments: If you're sick, you need to make sure you call first thing or you won't get a chance to see anyone that day; and you can't schedule appointments in advance. (Or so I thought, it's not quite that severe. I flipped out about a year ago when I last had to make an appointment, and that's what I recalled encountering.) Finally, they have completely and totally sullen, unhelpful people who you have to deal with: Billing clerks paranoid that you're writing a bad check; receptionists who if you were to ask a question -- any question -- will invariably snap "I don't make the rules, sir." Me: We're having an awfully cold day, don't you think? Clerk: There's nothing I can do about that. The gloomy waiting room, decorated in "country", has church fliers and vaguely religious magazines lying around with titles like Hope Eternal. I start feeling ill just looking at this stuff! I vow to change doctors, but ... I'm almost never sick, and when I'm well, I guess my soapbox on medical care kinda goes away. So I sleep in the bed I make.

I made an appointment because I've been hacking and horking for about a week. And my doctor isn't a bad guy, personally. Today, he told me I have 110/70 blood pressure (does that reflect low blood pressure?), and a cholesterol count of 122 (isn't the "average" 200?). He gave me free samples of antihistamines and, upon my request, an antibiotic *with* a refill.

But, I also got irritated because I saw his eyes change when I asked for an STD test. I asked for everything *except* HIV. "I've never separated those before." I told him that unless the HIV test was anonymous, I didn't want my name on a list somewhere. "Oh, I think you're probably right." He started asking me a lot of questions which were not related to the ability to conduct any testing and were really none of his business. He changed his tune when I said, "Oh, maybe I don't need that test after all." Finally. I got some blood taken...

So I find out in a few days whether I have anything. (Except for HIV -- I'll have to find an anonymous test center for that.) I am fairly certain I don't -- but because I've been "exhibiting flu-like symptoms" and I do sometimes have itchy-scratchy *down there*, it's good to make sure. When Jock Itch Happens to Non-Jocks...

And later in the morning, the boys called to tell me they'll vacate the apartment by December 1st. *sigh* The ball is now rolling. Next I'll start calling moving companies and negotiating that piece of it...

Maybe I already wrote that C and I attended my landlord's design studio open-house on Saturday. On the drive there, C and I talked about feeling (dis)connected. Then, last night, when I met Ch for coffee, he talked about feeling isolated as an Indian growing up in Malaysia -- one result being that he doesn't have strong patriotic feelings about his home.

I believe that one (maybe not the only) reason for our existence is our impact on each other. No matter who or how it might be. C and Ch touched on this. (For whatever reason, we also talked about past-life regressions which, in the context of this blog entry, means extending the idea of connection to beyond the present life... Hmmmmm....)

No surprise to anyone reading this blog, I have felt very un-connected in the past couple of years. Holding a job that does not create value will do that to you. Hobbies or second jobs such as running the movie projector at the Little Art last year, or as an extra in the Opera this year, have temporarily engaged, but cannot offer anything permanent -- or can they? Hmmmm.....

As for significant others: Friendships have always helped, and I realize I don't need that many in order to feel "complete". I will continue to struggle with whether or not I need a partner. Is it me trying to fulfill society's dictates; or is it more trouble than it's worth?

I joked with D and Ch that I was "philosophically jealous" of their current dating frenzy: Both have been going out on some good dates; seems like they're meeting some nice people. I pulled most of my personal ads months ago, and completely de-sexualized the remaining post (on gay.com). Last night though, for the first time in weeks, I logged on, thinking I would have it up in the background while I did something else (HTML Coding), and well well -- I ended up chatting with three or four folks.

Most were folks I already "know" -- as if you can "know" anyone from a chat room. I had met "hairybuffolder" (screen name changed to protect the innocent tee hee hee) about a year ago for a game or two of pool. He's divorced with kids, some high-up muggiewump for a bank. I had mixed feelings when I met him before. He was afraid of ruining his Beemer in the snow, and he smokes. He makes a big deal about being 47 which is not helped by an annoying penchant for chatspeak if u know wot i mean LOL ROFL LMAO C U prolly smiley sad sticking tongue out face. After the one time playing pool, sometimes I would run into him grocery shopping or something and would chit-chat for a bit. Supposedly we're meeting for another game of pool later this week.

I had also chatted with "xboy" before. He says I was supposed to give him a call after getting back from Maine, but I don't remember that. He seems OK on-line, I've never spoken to him on the phone -- that would be too intimate! He was dumped a year ago and is now wanting to date again. He is a computer programmer, does *not* chatspeak, and has a provocative PG-rated image on-line: Him unbuttoning his jeans. We're supposedly meeting, too.

I chatted with a first-grade teacher who culdn't spel and was amazed that I would know the reference to the "no child left behind" program. And I also chatted with "biggrandempire", to whom I had to explain the meaning of "STD". I was very tempted to make something up, like "Super Tight Dick," but that wouldn't have been very nice. *sigh* (Yes, I'm a mean vicious bitch.)

I don't know if I'll end up meeting either of my two theoretical dates. What's the point?

It occurred to me I hadn't had a car crash dream lately, and I wondered why. But last night, I hit a girl, probably ten years old, on roller-skates. As she zipped out in front of me, I caught a glimpse of straw-colored blond hair and a bubble-gum pink safety helmet. Not that that helped her, she never knew what hit her.