Weekend

It was a slightly odd weekend. Very few plans worked as intended. This is OK, but it is the kind of thing that can throw a body off.

Sunday was a recovery day. I'm glad April is almost over. I'm goddamn tired of this month.

After playing God of War 2 for a few hours, I let my thumbs rest and just watched TV, because I couldn't be troubled to write at that moment.

So, drearily, I watch Die Another Day. I really have to learn that I have movies I can watch...

The point being twofold here. 1) Samantha Bond is a hot Moneypenny.
2) Halle Berry cannot act. Maybe ever. But certainly, if ever I wanted to see bad acting, this would be the performance I would point to. Holy fuck does she suck as an actress.

Morning Ritual

Taken from Modern Shadows' LJ, and she, of course, got it from someone else (who I've linked to) but! the question put to the audience is: what is your perfect morning ritual?

I'm not a morning person, really, but the wakeup ritual that I enjoy goes thusly:

8-10am, realize I'm gaining consciousness. Enjoy sleeping if the heat is on-the low roar the heater makes in our house has a soothing effect on me. Either way, some kind of lucid dreaming happens.

Lay in bed, stretching. Get up.

Shower. Shave as needed.

Breakfast.

Turn on whatever loud music I feel is good; begin to destroy the universe.

Read at Salon

and you have to learn how to admit failure and walk away from it and not torment yourself. Sometimes the remorse is worse than the offense.

That's something that struck me particularly strong today. In a way, that's my life, right there. I am more than willing to beat the fuck out of myself for something I did wrong, even if there was no wrongdoing, merely failure. As the song says: 'It's a shame when the parts fit, but the machine won't work'.

Sometimes, the goddamn machine won't work. It's not my fault that it won't. But still, I go back and rethink, relive every moment of embarassment or failure, searching for the moment that I blew it, the thing I could've or should've done differently. Sometimes there is something. Sometimes, there's nothing, but I still feel responsible.

Perhaps this is the burden I place on people who I call friend. I will do anything, damn near, for someone who I've called friend. This means something to me; it is a binder, a statement of love that holds up so long as I'm not mistreated-although sometimes long after I am. But my friends know this; they know that I will stand by them, will do things like get on the next flight to wherever they are and help them, should they ask. Will offer succor regardless of my own situation.

I will do things that are potentially risky or stupid or unwise, because they ask. This is cannot be an easy thing to know. And when they see me go off to do something potentially unwise...well, that's got to be a bitch, since someone in love can rarely be told they shouldn't act. Action is what love is all about. (Although I'm thinking more and more that it's about the small actions)

Keillor is talking about politicians, but the lessons of politicians are just as applicable to life anywhere, you know? Maybe that's why I spend so much time thinking about everything I could or might do. I understand that the consequences haunt me, personally, for a long time when things go wrong. And things always, always go wrong, you know? That's life. That's what happens to us.

It's hard for me, though, to admit failure and walk away. There's always that 'if only' key that seems to keep the door locked from being happy. However, we don't live in the alternate Earths. We live in this one. In this one, the failures I have are ones I have to own up to, but maybe I don't have to carry them around all the goddamn time. There really is no reason to inflict suffering on myself, there's plenty to go around, and as Fuz as pointed out to me; love is not about who can suffer more.

Dream #2341

Or something.

Anyway, on Saturday I had a dream I was wandering through New York. I ended up going down an alleyway that turned into a library. As the library narrowed, I came across the naked ghost of Marilyn Monroe, who was passionately lecturing on the loss of civil liberties in this country. She was using a Powerpoint presentation, and it all looked very slick. She kept popping in and out, though, at one point slyly playing a game with me, where she moved objects without being seen.

Eventually, she finished and went into another part of the library. By now, I was in a strange place with lots of pools in it--but still part of the library. Then I looked up, and there were very large clear tubes running along the ceiling, very high up. Klaxons went off, and, I and some other patrons waited while they flooded the room-the room I was in. The pools lit up, and the room flooded, and everything took on a teal tint.

Then white tubes descended upon the clear ones, and the water floated up and the room was drained.

Somehow, turtles are connected to this. Especially sea turtles, and the way they move. And I've now been inspired to build a machine to help...something. My flight for home from NYC is something I'm going to miss.

(I wish I could remember what I was supposed to build that machine for. It was cool in the dream)

Medicine

I can't stop listening to Jesu's Medicine. It's oddly addictive. It's also got a haunting quality that seems all too appropriate for me these past few days.

Some things have gone wrong. Oh, it'll all be ok. The sky will clear, the ship will aright itself. But for now, I just want to cover my head and sigh. I don't want to be at work today. I'm on under three hours of sleep, and a gnawbone of stress, bad news, and general unhappy. I would've called in sick, but I'd committed to doing something at work today.

Fucking responsibilities. What is wrong with me that I can't take a day off when it's obvious that I could use one?

Something quite grave, it would seem. I'm just not quite human today. It would be a good day to be human, and there are a few legos missing from the structure right now.

Fuck. I have work to do. No more bitching.

I got to see Jesu and Isis last night. They were both great, but Jesu had some sound mix issues during their first song...which was 1/5th of the set. Plus, while they did play songs I liked, they didn't play anything I loved (Dead Eyes, Medicine). Isis, however, kicked all kinds of ass. A good show.

the medicine is all we need
to keep us away and hidden
we can only see the sunset
we can never see the sunrise

in our funny little homes
we're really quite alone
we're just a sitting target
for your superiority

sunrise
sunset

the medicine is all we need

Wow

It's my nephew's birthday today.

He's a year old; I'd forgotten today was the day b/c I didn't write it down.

Also: Spokane trip 5/24-28.