Pi Day, Friday And World Caesar Salad Day

Friends, Romans, Robots, And Strangers.... And My Dearest Universe,

It's a busy holiday month. Let's see, Tomorrow is Pi day, the next day is Friday... That would be the 15th, so also "International Caesar Salad Day" Then Sunday is St. Patrick's Day, when I post Irish drinking songs and where I remix a certain cereal icon with the Leprechaun from the movies.

"Are those me charms?" 

 

"It's not nice to take a Leprechaun's Lucky Charms!!"

 

Hello, There! General Kenobi! You are a bold one! Man, I am having one hell of a tough time getting my shit together and my head on straight today. Firstly, Spring Forward is messing with my sleep. Bastards! It's like being stoned, but not in the good way. It's like a hangover, but I haven't had a drink in weeks. In short, I feel T-totally like shit this morning. Secondly, I happen to have a lot on my mind. My eldest son's new job, Hope he's okay. I sure hope my boy's first day at his new job is going well. (Update: He came home from his first day looking every bit the construction worker.) Have you ever heard of the parental conundrum where you want to be there, making sure they're okay, and yadda yadda Yoda? It's our lot to worry. Well, we can't hover, I know. Nor should we if we could. As I heard it said, birds gotta fly, fish gotta swim. Still, I've got a feeling this whole empty nest thing's gonna be rough. At least Mom and Dad had each other. I have mixed feelings about living alone: You know some days I look forward to it, and other days, I dread it terribly. I guess I'll see where the wheel winds up when that day comes. Then it's whether or not I'm gonna get screwed over on my medicine and insurance. And it's about a million things I'm trying to wrap my mind around. Sometimes, in moments of extreme stress, you've just gotta ask yourself, "What would Lord Vader do." and then remember: Hmmmmm, Firstly the force is not with me, Secondly, that sort of thing would probably land me on the detention level without any smugglers, princesses, Wookies, Droids, or even Tatooine farmers to bust me outta there. Help me, Universe Kenobi. You're my only hope. I thought having insurance meant something, but apparently not at CVS. Oh, well. I guess blood pressure medicine and my little anti cryin' antidepressant is for chumps. My medication takes a backseat to BS red tape. I guess that industry has figured out many ways of ripping off the rest of us. What a damn racket this is!!! Fortunately, one of their competitors came to my rescue. They were so kind that I had to stop myself from freakin crying in the checkout line. Thank goodness for Kings. I got my blood pressure meds, but my anti-cryin pills weren't ready. I'll get them tomorrow as I have 3 more days left. Kings Drugs was very understanding and helpful. That's at least one positive thing I can think of as I get myself ready for another day in complete darkness. Have I ever described my complete hatred for Spring Forward? It is the stupidest thing I have ever seen. While the length of the day, as in the sun being up, does vary throughout the seasons, screwing with the damn time is not gonna change it! How does such idiotic thinking become the law of the land? It's just plain stupid. Leave the time alone. I guarantee it's not gonna make me a more efficient worker bee for the US economy. Quite the freakin contrary, my dear. And if companies want to adjust their hours for summer and winter, then fine. Just don't mess with my clocks or my sleep. Another thing is it was finally daylight enough to where I might could have seen the deer coming up to the road. Now we're back to deer roulette again. Mother and child reunion. Oh, and of course, the political BS is ramping up for an election year, that big rematch between Stupid and Stupider. Here's a spoiler for ya: I can 100% guarantee an idiot is going to win in November, maybe not which moron, but a moron nonetheless. And until they can give me better choices than this, I can also assure you I won't bother with voting. Screw these two morons and to hell with this system! Freedom, my ass. I'm sorry to say this, but governments, all governments are just a racket. It's not a choice between freedom or servitude, but a choice of which set of assholes will be holding the reigns. It's a scam, though we gotta have it, so jackasses won't be stealing your shit while you're trying to work. Civilization is a necessary evil, but it's also an evil, evil. Look just how wonderful and perfect the system is. In order to not have to guard our stuff, more importantly our lives and loved ones like the Road Warrior, we've gotta have a government that steals from us instead. Freedom this, and freedom that. Look around and tell me just how free you are. Ask yourself if you have more freedom than a loyal subject of King George III in the 1770s. Either way, the days of blind loyalty to a government are long gone. Loyalty, after all, should be a two-way street. Therefore, I hereby declare I do not owe them one damn bit. Okay, okay, okay, if the door mouse, the Mad Hatter, and The March Hare are all on board with this, how about a clean cup, move down? That's me, AEB, all the way, baby. I may still have a lot more to go, my lovelies, but I'm getting there. 

Sooooo, on a scale of 1 to Gonzo, how weird am I? Weird enough to post publicly about some of the crazy dreams I have. So sit back, have a coffee, or crack a cold one (whatever floats your boat) (May all our ships be non-Titanic) and listen to my 'enthralling' tales of time. What is it about this day of the week and weird dreams? It seems last night was encore night again, with people and places (Even occupations) long gone revisiting me or was I revisiting them? It began with me working on a surveying job with my old boss, a good man that never got a chance to enjoy his retirement, and me working for a place I haven't seen in ten years. Then I found myself driving to another project, this one out of town, some quaint quiet coastal place with one lane roads. Time passed in a strange way, like a tone arm skipping across a record. Then I was driving back in the work truck alone, but only sometimes. My mother was with me part of the time, and dream-me seemed to think that was perfectly normal. When I got home, it was somewhere I used to live 20-something years ago. The work vehicle was no longer a work vehicle. The back was full of groceries and things I needed to bring in. Then the whole 'dream within a dream' thing happened. I was dreaming that I had fallen asleep and was dreaming within the dream. In the dream-dream I was sitting in the work truck looking through the drivers window at someone I had never seen before. I went to avert my gaze, but a voice said, "It's okay, you're just dreaming." Then I 'woke up' (because I hadn't really) and was back to that place I used to live. Except, of course, I had parked my vehicle in a crazy way, and for some reason, I had woken up on the ground. I looked up, and there was Momma again, giving me that "Stop being silly" look I remember well from my childhood. It was more of an amused look than anything. The sort of "You'll get it right someday" look. Anyway, by the time I regained my feet, she had disappeared again. Again, as well, dream-me was not phased. I walked into my old place from two decades ago and found I had guests, mostly people who would never actually drop by to see me in real life. (Funeral metaphor maybe?) Anyway, I suddenly remembered all those groceries in the car and walked toward the front door to start bringing them in. But, halfway across the floor was this giant abyss, an actual bottomless pit that I didn't notice until I fell through it. Either all these 'guests' didn't see me falling, or I guess they figured I could handle it. They didn't react at all. The fall didn't take long. I suppose the chasm led to my real bed in the waking world... Otherwise, I woke up. looking about, getting my bearings, with the magical letters W, T, and F and the question "Was that about?" ringing through my head. Aspiring Freud wannabes, go figure and go fish. Oh, and while I'm on the subject, I also remember a very symbolic dream I had long ago when I was still a kid. It has stayed with me for decades.There was this stack of kickass golden olympic style torches behind KMS with a sign, "Free Take One." And so I did. But, when I got to the bus, my fancy torch had morphed into this cheap plastic knockoff. So I threw it down and ran back to get a real one. When I got back to the bus, I once again found myself with a cheap plastic imitation instead of the real thing. It just kept repeating. As an adult, I can see the symbology. All that glitters is not gold. How many things that looked golden at first remain that way? How much of the gold we chase is actually real? Okay, clean cup move down. I think the Borg from Star Trek are just future humans with the iPhone 9000 wired into their brains. Speaking of which, I really wish Locutis would pick somewhere besides the break room door to stand. It's freaky, and it feels like they've just beamed in to assimilate me! "I am Locutus of Borg" [stares menacingly] "I am also Le Cutest Of Borg!" [Winks menacingly]

Random Thought: I don't care how old Iron Mike is by now. I'll bet the guy can still throw one heck of a punch, and that picking a fight with him is probably not the best idea.And he's probably gonna mop the floor with that dude. I geth we'll thee.

Okay, computer nerd ramblings ahead: One of my favorite computer games is Doom. One of its creaters was John Romero. Way back in 2001, he recorded some demos using Doom Legacy v1.32 Beta 1. I have the demos, and I have that version of Legacy for both Windows and DOS. The Windows version desyncs less but does not play well on modern computers. I can't get the display right. It refuses to do anything but jumbled 8bit full screen. The DOS version runs fine in DOSBOX, but the demos desync out of wack a lot more. What really makes my head spin is I can play the same demo twice, and it plays correctly once and desyncs the next time. That, with no changes having been made. I even tried backing up the old configuration file from 1999 and replacing the new 2024 one generated when the game starts. I call this the Romero Conundrum. You'd think I'd be smart enough to figure this out, but go fish, I guess. I know there's something I'm overlooking, but what could it be? This makes me feel like Forest Gump, and that's all I got to say about that. 

 I might as well tell you the many other things in my life that happen every day as to tell you of this particular moment and how it feels. Hey everyone, I woke up. Hey everyone, I got myself together and did the things I needed to do. Oh, and to keep with this, I spent all day breathing, and my heart has been steadily beating just as it has since Nixon was president. I might as well tell you all of these things I do day in and day out, as to tell you that I miss my baby sister. Because that too is every single day. I'd just as well tell you about reaching into my bag and taking all my meds, as to say I had a thought that threw me back in time, triggered a memory, a reminder that I'm still here and Marsha is not. Happy memory, sad memory, The end result is the same. Either I lament the loss of the days gone by, or I relive that day I wish I could forget. I do this every single day. It sounds like hyperbole, but it isn't. Surly, one would believe I'd have other things on my mind, and I do. But, she is always there, needing only sight, sound, thought, or memory.. And it sounds so redundant to continue to speak after all of this time. But, like I said, my heart beats, and my lungs take in air. It would seem I am alive since it would be impossible to speak otherwise. And I can't really talk about myself without also speaking of what defines me and who has a many roomed apartment in my head. I guess it's redundant, but it is also me. Missing her is simply a part of who I am. What am I to do, Sis? People tell me again and again and again that it gets better, but after these two long years, I am beginning to wonder. It's true that I don't cry myself to sleep night after night like I did that first bit, those nights when I actually could sleep. There was no way to stop thinking of you until I became too exhausted to think at all. I remember, too, how physical an illness my grief for you became. It was like my body wanted to match my mind for once, and it made the hurt on the outside equal the inside. So if they mean the fact that I am no longer physically and mentally crippled from losing you, when they say it gets better, then I guess yes. But you see, these feelings have not gone anywhere, and it still hurts. It's just that I am better at making myself go on despite this pain. Nobody would expect me to get up and walk with a broken leg. Funny how they expect us to perform fine with a broken heart. Broken legs and broken hearts are both very painful and take a whole hell of a lot of time to heal. Yet, for one of these, the world still expects us to get up and walk. It still hurts like hell, but I'm trying.

All these scenarios that play out in my mind are just plain exhausting. Some of them are quite scary. If I could have a proper argument with myself, I would be asking just why in the hell do I want to live these nightmares in my head that will most likely never become real? I stop myself from daydreaming about becoming rich or finding love, oh no we can't do that, but it's a green light for me to day-mare these horrible things I don't want to ever see happen. Man, what the hell is wrong with me? If I'm going to live out things that will never happen, then why not tripping over some money and falling into a beach chair on some tropical island, beautiful scenery (Plus the landscape) and cold frosty delicious umbrella drinkies. Oh, and a new name. Most definitely, a new identity. (I am so damn sick of being the person this world expects me to be!) And nothing but time, nothing but peace. I am so weary of fighting these same battles over and over again. I have done my time. Please let me spend whatever time I have left with sunshine and smiles. And could we please add love and belonging to that order. And put a little pep to your step, baby. Okay... I'm being silly... But sometimes silly is good. It makes me forget I'm hurting. It is a most lovely Jedi mind trick. Help me, Universe Kenobi. You're my only hope. I think it's time for another face-cation (an extended break from social media) once again. When one's mental state goes south of the border, it's time for a Face-cation. Trust me, you need to keep your heart and soul a safe distance from the mental vortex that is social media. Believe me, neither Elon nor the Zuck have your best interest at heart. At least here, I can mostly write about whatever. Blogio, Good old Doctor Blogio, cheap therapy at its finest. I probably owe the fact that I remain "uncommitted" to the good doctor's help. I guess I have not committed myself to a Face-cation quite yet. I've got to hang around long enough to post clips from the Leprechaun movies on the 17th. Is that me gold? Still, if things go further south, I had better if I don't want to get worse. It's a trap, really. It is also the quickest way to realize that your struggles mean nothing to anyone else. I really think social media has messed up the meaning of friendship. I mean, are your "friends" really your friends? Hopefully, at least, some of them are. It is a very lonely feeling sometimes. And it really is a trap. It makes certain people money to imprison as many lonely souls in that little screen as they possibly can. They do this because other people actually believe intrusive advertising actually gets people to buy that the BS they're selling. And they're way off with me. Booze, Gambling, Pet Stuff, Baby stuff, little blue pills, and all the bullshit the simpleton they think I am, (all because of age and "Gender") apparently would totally go apeshit for. Okay. Let me break it down, Watergate Style Haroooo! I really don't drink that much anymore. If I do, it is gonna be some Smirnoff Pink Lemonade, or better yet, a Miami Vice, the absolute best umbrella drinky ever. There was a long time ago when if I had anything less than a 12 in my fridge, there was gonna be a beer run in my future. Then, I changed. Why? Parenthood, divorce, and the fact that drinking is the absolute worst thing to do when you feel like crying. Alcohol: That big magnifying glass for your emotions. Tip: Only drink when you're happy. Also, one does not drink to forget, lest they spend all night dwelling on whatever they wanted to forget. As Futurama Nixon said, "And now ya know somethin' Haroooo!" So... Booze is a no-go. Okay, a mostly-no-go unless it morphs into umbrella drinkies. That vice covered, on to the next vice: Gambling has never been my thing. At least when drinking you get a buzz out of the deal. So gambling isn't for me. Maybe a lottery ticket once every few years, and that $20 I fed to that slot machine in Biloxi more than a decade ago. All one has to do is consider the math and find that a lightening bolt to the backside is far more likely then ever getting ahead in that crooked game. Okay, next ad: Pet stuff. I do not own any pets and never will. I have nothing against pets or their owners. It's just that I have enough to have to feed and clean up after, without going beyond my own species. Raising three boys to adulthood generated all the feeding and cleaning up messes I could ever want. Speaking of which, I have no need for baby stuff either. I got my babies raised, and those babies are 20, 22, and 24. There will be no more. I am officialy out of the baby business. Also, Social media ad folks and shady scammers, get this and get this now: I am not some old bald creeper looking to score. Is this what you honestly think of me? It is insulting! First of all, my hair is long, flowing, and lovely. Secondly. I have no interest in anybody, especially someone way too young for me, looking (Despite their youth) like they've already had a certain surgery that I certainly would not let them get if they were (And they look like they could be) the daughter I never had. As King Triton said, "So long as you live under my ocean, young lady, no boob jobs allowed." No daughter of mine is gonna be excessively ogled by creepy old men if I can help it. Geesh, just what kind of simpleton pervs are they targeting? Look, I ain't no babysitter, and even if that fake profile were real, I absolutely ain't getting involved with someone half my age! There was this old guy who probably had 20 years on me, hovering and bothering some of these young ladies at work. Geesh, Father Time, At least I am only old enough to be her dad, so back off, grandpa! Even in general, I ain't looking for a date. And if I were, it's gonna be with a grown woman. Who the hell do they think I am, an elderly Glenn Quagmire from Family Guy? Giggidy Giggidy? Or worse, Herbert? Getting beyond the pervos, I have no interest in games or drama. No more. I have experienced way too much of that already. If that's the price to not be single, then I will be single forever. Maybe had I chosen better in my youth, I would not be alone now. Maybe... I mean, I have no idea about alternate universes. I tell my three sons they were all meant to be, and if they are, then maybe I could never have chosen differently. Life's a hell of a thing. I've been through the mill these last several years. And it would be so hard to make another human being understand what it has been like for me. There is a difference in wanting sympathy and needing a bit of understanding. We all judge others, so drop that false pretext. Still if you must judge me, do so with all the facts. Do so knowing how this feels, what it's like, and how it is in this mind, through these eyes, and with this heart. Judge me, but know me through and through. And we might find that few if anybody at all have the knowledge to judge jack shit. 

<(- _ -)> "Hmmmmm! Right in front of them Yoda could be, but see him they would not!" 

But you guys, on the other hand are awesome Jedi Masters. 

I love you all.