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Surely you’ve noticed my half-hearted weblogging as of late. Right? Right??
So here’s the big summary:
Amidst the headline-grabbers of Baretta getting nabbed for murder, Israel mowing down Palestinian villages, both Robert Urich and Linda Lovelace passing on (in unrelated incidents, mind you), a Day of Reckoning for NAMBLA’s holiest members, and a lukewarm coup d’etat in Caracas:
I turned 33 earlier in the month. Doesn’t bother me. (Really!) But I do get to thinking about my own mortality and about how there’s less and less youth left in me every year that passes and so forth. Not very cheery thoughts in general. The thing is, I am only bothered by the passing of time in the sense that I feel like I have wasted so much of it. You know, a lot the really prime years, where you’re just old enough to cause mayhem but young enough to get away with it. But during that period in my life I was a model citizen. I mean, model. I was unimpeachable. Squeaky clean. Even when I went away to college, same thing. I was far too worried with where to procure my next meal to get into too much trouble. I didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, never even looked at drugs. (Still don’t.) I detested the mindless excess of fraternity life. And I was hypersupermega-shy around the ladies, so that didn’t help my cause at all. All I did during college was study (and occassionally, fail) and hang around other good kids. And wonder why I was so bored so much of the time…
So my point (and I do have one) is that, given I’ve sort-of come out of my shell in the last, oh, four or five years, maybe less, I’ve been awakening to the idea that I’d like to make up for lost time. Not in any binge-drinking or statue-defacing way. But, perhaps, more in a “let’s backpack through Europe before we’re too old to lift a backpack” way. There were always a few things that I continually fantasized in high school about doing once I was out of the house. World travel was one of them. I also thought I’d learn to SCUBA once I moved to Florida. (That has been delayed by the complete dearth of worthy diving targets anywhere north of the Palm Beaches, which is exactly where I’ve been located for all of the 15 years I have lived in Florida.) When I got into cycling during college, I thought it might be really neat to cross the US by bike at least once, preferrably in the company of my happily-ever-after significant other. Problem is, I’ve yet to meet a single female (I’m heterosexual, so sue me) who enjoys cycling. Oh, I’ve come across women on bikes while out on rides of my own but thought it might be a little creepy to turn my bike around and go after them right then and there. Who knows? Maybe that’s my problem: not taking opportunity when it sort-of presents itself. Oh, and the other problem? Riding a conventional road bike over time tends to have, uhmmm, adverse effects on a boy’s, uhhmmm, parts. So I’m looking into more unorthodox bike designs for the journey.
On the other hand, I haven’t been completely idle. I did get to Spain a couple seasons ago. I did pick up a photography hobby and a little guitar skill along the way, and have derived much enjoyment from both. While trying to become an engineer I developed my knack for drawing into a sort-of second career doing graphic design. I’ve gone on a few bike-based mini-tours throughout Central Florida. And I went skydiving! That doesn’t sound like much to account for 15 years of life, and I would agree with you if that’s all that had happened during that time. But, be assured, I could tell stories… and indeed, I’m working on assembling them into coherence and shoehorning them into the latter part of my online ‘bio.’ Just you wait.
Last Wednesday numbered six months since my mom passed away. It feels like an eternity ago. I feel like such a different person from what I used to be just six months and three days ago. So much of my belief system, my major motivators and even some of my long-term plans have changed, possibly forever. I’m not trying to be dramatic; I’m just saying.
So, uhmm, what else happened? Well, by now this is old news, but I’m not working at The Globe anymore. I know! I can’t even keep some teeny part-time coffee-jockey job! But, just in time, the newly-approved 13-week extension in unemployment benefits kicked in, so I’ve been able to continue to make (most of) my bills. Government cheese is not living large, I assure you. At this point I am really looking forward to getting a job, any job. (Carnivore, are you reading this? I want to go back to contributing to the tax-base! God Bless America!) Problem is, not even the corner drugstore wants me. I should know, I applied there.
Other news of no consequence whatsoever, in brief:
I went to Disney World with AMS and Kyrgyzstani exchange student Yulia, and I’ve got the pictures to prove it!
Word to the wise: people at match.com may not actually “match” who they portray themselves as. That is all.
Online friend and freakishly-talented architect and designer Minina just had a baby. And there was much rejoicing.
Jenn moved. I found out through her Livejournal.
I discovered that, much like The Dude in the movie The Big Lebowski, I too have an affinity for White Russians (the drink, not the race, although I’m sure Russian nationals of any color are fine people).
And I tentatively dated someone new, for the first time in two years. Didn’t work out because I’m simply not ready emotionally to do something even as seemingly innocuous as that. My insides are getting the tumbling treatment like compost in the making. Maybe someday I’ll come out with some dirt worth dishing out but that day is not yet here. Stay tuned!
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