begrudging bedazzlement

Hello journal.

Wow. I am so unbelievably tired. This presumably has something to do with the fact that I have been up for 20 of the last 24 hours. Which means that it should not be unbelievable. But I digress.

I am doing my old job this week. This is the first time I have done my old job in something like fourteen months. I have a fresh perspective, with which to revisit my standing presumptions about the way that I used to live.

And I can't believe I did this bullshit for almost five years. It is a lot of alternating between turbine and hotel room, hotel room and turbine. Twelve hours on, twelve hours off. Back and forth. It inspires hopelessness, and perhaps diarrhea. I am so glad I finally got the gumption to leave, even if it was to Orlando. Having that gumption allowed me to not be afraid to have the extra gumption required to leapfrog to yet another job within a year, and maybe that will give me the unfathomable amount of gumption to do it again when I feel that I should.

Domino effect!, they call that. Except I added an exclamation point, because I like when people are excited about it. Domino effects normally come with no exclamation points included.

So there are these pangs, brought on by this return to the past, being back amongst the same folks again. And even though I have a soft spot in my hearrt for these fellows, they remain shallow rednecks, and so I cannot relate. Not to judge, or anything.

The disappointing thing is, I am SO GOOD AT THIS JOB. I was rolling, barking orders, re-correcting technicians, perusing blueprints. I could have been like a mage with a unicorn, pressing my hand against the turbine and suddenly understanding what has been causing it pain, and what would help to reassure the turbine against negative outside forces. And I would channel my will through my fingers, into the metal casings: "Do not fret, poor turbine. Yours is a subtle and all important function. There are so many who count on you. Be at peace."

Even so, I am glad that I am going to leave and never come back to my old job, in maybe a day or two. I will be very glad to be wavering in my more subverting employments, where I am but a human.

I am going to bed. Damn Housekeeping for eternity, in advance, for knocking on my door at 10 or 11 o'clock.

24-April

This week, I happen to be back in the Mighty Commonwealth. Meaning Virginia, where I enjoyed almost five years of joy and embellishment. I am expected to fulfill this standing obligation to my old bosses, to perform one last and final field service assignment. But it's on night shift (quiet) and it's only three or four days (short), so I don't mind so much. It's some exra pockets moneys. Plus, I am going to be working with Ray C. again one last time. Ray C. is my favorite trailer trash ex-con with six children that I have ever met. He is in possession of very few teeth, he says "goddamn" where other people say "umm", like between thoughts and phrases (which is fucking awesome!), and even though this is making Ray C. seem like a terrible specimen, I like him, because he is actually secretly talented and intelligent, and he has as good a heart as anyone I have met in the field. Me and Ray C. are tight, like bloodbrothers, except that we never engaged in the ceremonial cutting and tying together of thumbs.

This morning I awoke on Lisa & Matt's futon. This is not such a huge surprise, since this is the very same futon that I lost consciousness on last night. Anyway.

Lisa & Matt forgot to leave me a towel, or leave a note to tell me where the towels are kept, or forgot to call me to tell me 'oh we forgot to tell you about our towels and how you are shit out of luck', so what I ended up doing, was using my shirt from yesterday as a towel. Which actually worked out pretty good. I might decide to propose it to the general populace, as a means of minimizing the need for laundrying, which in turn lessens water consumption and the need to process wastewater. Excellent!

In the last week I have been on three dates. With the same girl, I mean. Her name is Heather. As far as I'm concerned, each date was a perfect example of how the human race should be going about dating. Of course, maybe it would not make for interesting television as much. The first date I will title "The Coffee Date", although Heather only was willing to partake in two or three sips. The second date I will call the "Betty & Mulligan Date", which hit it's exciting plot climax with not one, but TWO shots apiece of Jack Daniels. How tough is that?? All of the beefy folks with horizontal stripes calmly backed away, so as not to aggravate us and test our seething wrath.

The third date started with hiking with Oscar the dog, moved to a hip cafe in East Aurora, and ended up with watching a movie and listening to musics like Jeff Buckley, who is passionate with vibrato, and definitely not whiney. In order to keep the title of the date as short and rememberable as possible, I will call the third date "The 'Tattoo of a Ladybug with a Bonnett Wearing Oversized High Heels Carrying a Wicker Basket in which are Placed Five Kittens and also the Ladybug is Riding a Unicorn and the Kittens are about to Fall and the Situation is So Precarious!' Date".

Or else just "The Ladybug Date".

I will not go into any more details at this time, because I am enjoying the feelings, which are floaty, but also secret.

Right now I am in my old office, and it is just like old times, in that I am writing to the internet and not doing much of anything that could be considered productive. Oh, the memories! My old boss and the office folks seem happy to see me. Maybe they missed me, and their lives have been all wrong since I left. It's a shame I am only staying for a few hours.

But now I am restless and wanting to go. I should visit James, who is a river. Me and James go way way back. Or Nora, I need to visit Nora too. Nora is not a river, because she is a human being, and she blessed me with the gift of Linus.

Anyways. Goodbye for now, internets.

My brand new clean and windexed slate

I am settled into Ontario, and things are calm. I am mostly not anxious, with delusional thoughts of my life being at an end, with no surprises left, ever. Thank you, ability to traverse geography!

Work is just that - work. And it is simpler, and I do it while I am there, and then I leave. It's a downgrade from my former jetsetting and lofty headquarters expectations , and I am glad. My routine in 2005 was depressing the fuck out of me.

Here, I am making a routine of running along the lake in the evenings, for being more fit, and having the ability to climb four flights of stairs without making lung addendums. Plus, the scenery is very relaxing, and it's one of few public places I've ever been able to be a part of, that actually Bolsters the whole inner peace and sanctity thing. And stuff.

Plus, I like when it is sunny and cool. And I like undulating waters. And birds, I like them okay too, I guess.

Like yesterday, I was running along the promenade, and I saw that this little girl was having difficulties getting her bicycle up the stairs. So instead of keeping my head down and passing by and belittling myself for it the rest of the day, I actually stopped and helped the little girl get her bike up the steps, and I felt like a million damned dollars. Simple things like this, that I am usually too neurotic to do. Neurotic or something. Fear of people?

Something that has made me excited and anxious both, is that on Sunday night I had a date with a girl, and something unexpected happened, because usually I end up being indifferent to dates and the associated girls, but this time I was not indifferent. This girl is so intelligent, so funny, so cute, so impossibly out of my league, that it is difficult to not just throw up my hands and walk away, even when she seemed interested enough to want to go on a second date. Which either means that I have an inferiority complex, or else I have fooled her into thinking that I am something more than what I am.

I guess it is possible that I am something more than even I thought I was, but I doubt it, because I hang out with me all the time, and I can be pretty objective about me and other people and how we fit together, and I'm pretty sure that this girl can do much better.

Or who knows, maybe I am fogged over with smittenness, considering I haven't fallen for a girl since the Bush administration was two weeks old. So maybe she's not really all That great. It's possible.

That's what I get for perusing craigslist. A dilemma, that is only a dilemma in my head.

Also, I envy her clever writings. When the envy kicks in, I know I am doomed.

I am trying to keep myself calm, telling myself that I might even grow a little as a human being if I hang out with people who are cooler than I am, every now and then. Even if it's temporary. This is a good compromise, where absolutists like me are concerned. I gave myself a pat on the back. I am coming along.

Maybe it is ridiculous that I am even dedicating this much text to the subject after one measley date. But considering that comets and eclipses happen more often than me hooking up with anyone, I will forgive myself for being a little prematurely overindulgent.

Here is a picture of my nephew, and my nephew's father, who is my brother. It's like we're from West Virginia or something. My nephew's name is Nate, or Nathaniel, but definitely NOT Nathan.



Of course, Nate has changed completely since this photo was taken, since he changes completely every twenty minutes or so, though he continues to look like no one to me, really.

I held Nate for a cruise around the house on Friday. I am a natural, because I did not drop him at all. Babies are such a foreign concept to me, it is silly when our paths cross. Zaniness ensues.

In short, I am still alive, and writing here.