Wednesday 24th March 2010

observations, scientific and otherwise

it's been seven hours and fifteen five days since she took her love car away. long enough for me to compile an ordered list, of things, just in time for her to come home to.

  1. she claims the covers end up on my side of the bed in the morning because i pull them that way in the night. i claim it's because she rolls exclusively to her left (toward me) all night, converting her own rotational energy into linear motion of the covers. in these last five nights that i've had the bed to myself, the comforter has mysteriously remained perfectly centered, without having to pull the frakking thing four feet back over to her side every morning.
  2. by the narrow definition of the word, i have no actual proof that fast food eaten in a girl's presence tastes better than fast food eaten not in a girl's presence, but i have some anecdotal evidence to that effect.
  3. sometimes, fast food eaten not in a girl's presence does not taste as good as fast food not eaten.

    by the way. 'froots?' i seem to have a vague memory of these 'froots,' and their odd-sounding cousins the 'vej tubbles.' will you please tell me more?

  4. the freedom to leave the seat up is a pretty minor one. i cite the fact it's a well established habit for me to put it down each time, cover and all; leaving it up requires conscious effort and just leaves me acutely aware of the act's underlying emptiness.
  5. bulldog kisses are a damn poor substitute for wife kisses.
  6. pulling on yesterday's socks is way easier than going downstairs and collecting the clean laundry.
  7. cynical schadenfreude is most satisfying when it has the opportunity to annoy someone.
  8. measured in terms of wakefulness, appetite, and leg-jumps per hour, the dog is less happy when chelsey is gone.
  9. measured in terms of wakefulness, appetite, and leg-jumps per hour, the boy is less happy when chelsey is gone.




girls, you just don't know the power you have over boys. if you do know it then you are evil geniuses. evil, pretty geniuses. we just don't stand a chance.


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Wednesday 23rd December 2009

the space between

okay, seriously. a lot of the time i complain that i have no idea what's going on, and most of the time it's hyperbole or for dramatic effect or whatever. usually.

lately though, i feel like there's this whole separate universe being played out around me and i'm utterly not a part of it. as though there's a club with a secret entrance code, a code which everyone knows except me, and i'm standing at the entrance struggling to understand why no one let me in on the secret.

tonight, as chelsey and i were discussing how to divvy up amongst my coworkers the cookies she had made, we discovered that there were not enough gift bags to hold all the groups of cookies we wanted to distribute. no big deal, right? we'll just put some of the cookies in nice simple plastic bags and hand them out that way, because it's christmas, and they're cookies, dig?

no. dear me, no. such a thing is not conscionably done.

you see, it's the small things that matter. the cookies need the gift bags. worthless without them. it's not the making of the cookies that matters, not the time it spent with mixing bowl or oven, it's the wrapping of the cookies that matters. it's not the words that you say, it's the tone of voice in which you say them. it's not the thing itself, it's the framing and the context and the gist of the thing. it's this parallel world of undercurrents and subterfuge and small all-important para-things that completely fails to resonate with me, to which i have absolutely no sensitivity.

this is why i fucking hate christmas. do you hear me? hate it hate it, with swear words for emphasis. it's not enough that i think well of you, or that i want nice things for you. it is expected that i spend time in thinking about something you secretly want, that i go out and get it for you, and that i wrap it up and put a bow on it, and turn what would be (at any other time of the year) a gesture of goodwill and potentially unexpected awesomeness into just another thing that is done for its own sake. we've turned what might have once been called the spirit of christmas into a fat lot of empty, expected gestures.

a bit unexpected, admittedly, coming from a guy who prides himself on being mindful of the little things.


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Thursday 11th June 2009

what i learned in that place where i went

we say things like it's a small world without feeling their full meaning.

the world is small only in comparison with such things as the rest of the galaxy, which is itself only small in comparison with such things as the local supercluster. we're to the point in our development as a thinking species where we can observe objects that emitted some bits of light near the beginning of the universe, and the light is only now reaching us. and light is fast, dig? if my calculations are correct it takes light approximately one year to go one light-year; do you know how long it would take you, even taking the entire journey at the fastest speed any human has ever gone? beyond the scope of supercluster one could take two, maybe three meaningful (however gargantuan) steps up, and half a dozen or more on the way down. we live near the bottom, and on the scale to which we are accustomed, the world is pointedly—almost arrogantly—large.

thank you for following so far; it's important you understand where i'm coming from if you're to understand where i'm going. it's a matter of using the appropriate scale. though it's not saying much, the difference between (1) the immensity and permanence of the rock we're all floating on and (2) my own unimportance and brevity is more than the meat between my ears can process. and yet it is precisely this difference that made each bite of greek food, each sight of stacked ancient marble, each step taken on age-worn stone, each smile on the face of the girl i love—all so small when taken individually—so large when viewed through the lens of what i'm used to.

this is what i learned: we're each so small, and each so temporary, but because of this each moment and every inch we have just becomes that much more meaningful. where we are, everything matters except you. you are exactly as self-important as you think you are; it is just your scale that is wrong.

i'm sorry, what was your question? … 'how was greece?'

pretty frakking swell.


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Tuesday 26th May 2009

effing airports

today started yesterday at eighteen o'clock (going by the clock at home) in a bedbug-infested athens hostel, and didn't end till just now.

there will be more later, obviously. for now i'm too tired even to


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Friday 20th March 2009

liveblogging the frakolution [bsg spoilers]

less vomit, more shooting! frak's sake.

admiral hoshi and president what's-his name lawyer = weird

oh gaius, i knew you had … something … in you.

big guns BIG GUNS OMGs YES

ooh! simultaneous hallucination. i've always wondered what that would be like.

anyone else think galactica ramming into the facility like that is a bit freudian?

cavil still a bastard. check.

right, all it takes is a little hand-torch to cut through the hull of a starship.

OPERA HOUSE REVELEO

yeah, getting hera out was way too easy.

'hera's not a thing, she's a child.' *sigh*

fake-huzzah, a matrix-like 'let's all live in peace together' conclusion. almost word for word. frak.

DON'T KILL TORY NO NO NO

piano song=keypad star coordinates. chelsey saw it coming.

(i'm glad my wife never got drunk doing shots with my brother.)

can it be? earth's evil twin? does it have an evil goatee?

goody goody, high-falutin moral philosophy from one adama to another

'have you ever stolen money from a cash register' … i bet the answer was yes.

tyrol is the father of the vikings! frak yes.

[twenty minutes left; denial sets in]

really trying not to be cynical about roslin, AGAIN

incidental point of order: spaceships don't need wings, no sound in space, and lasers move faster than that

OMGs WHERE DID KARA GOEZ

wrong hand for the ring, dummy. also look where you're flying

apparently all that nonsense about hera didn't mean much? i mean, they could have just jumped away, right?

aaaand definitely going over the alloted two hours. curious.



.. thank you for reading; mattlestar gafraktica has been sponsored by kfc and yet another x-men movie


post-show rumination. apparently the entirety of season 3 was predicated on that one night mooreron got stoned listening to 'all along the watchtower'


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Tuesday 27th January 2009

another long, long day

frakkin executives. sometimes i'd swear they think they run the place.

DID I MENTION THE DAY WAS LONG


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