For some time now I’ve had recurring dreams about high school. It’s usually some sort of trauma-inducing scenario, like my old high school was remodeled and now I can’t find my classes and I get lost and end up in the wrong place. Utter embarrassment results every time.

Sometimes there are extra twists, like I lost my glasses and am slowly going blind, or I can’t remember my schedule, or I lost my homework or something. But it’s always high school.

High school for me was the epitome of social awkwardness. Nothing captures that feeling better than the short-lived TV series Freaks and Geeks. Yesterday my wife and I watched the first episode again, and the pain was palpable. The gym class awkwardness, the intimidation of older, bigger students, the outsider status.

Some people say high school is the best four years of your life. I think people who say that should be committed.

It’s amazing how my blogging comes in fits and spurts. I’ll post ten entries in three days, and then go three days with absolutely nothing. I’m not sure how you as a reader feel about that, but it’s a bit freeing as a writer to not have to care about that. That’s just the way it is. So there.

I’m feeling introspective this morning, so we’ll be doing a bit of rambling. I’ll just jump to the extended entry now since I doubt much of this will be very interesting.

Continue reading Reflective Saturday →

I haven’t done much pondering lately. I’ve been rather busy. Writing a novel, listening to U2, eating turkey, posting things like this. It’s been hard to just sit down and think.

Continue reading Brains on Overdrive →

Bad news comes in the form of unexpected communication. A phone call interupting the otherwise normal day. A letter with a strangely familiar return address. An e-mail from someone you haven’t heard from in a while.

It’s that long streak of silence that’s so worrisome. Then suddenly a burst of communication and you want to curl up and cry. Or sigh. Or hang your head and keep asking why. I knew it was coming, too. It was just a matter of time.

I wonder how long we’ll have to deal with it, how long we’ll have to go back and forth, from walking on egg shells, to getting comfortable again, to not hearing anything and then a sudden blow. The distance is getting farther, but the pain is no less. It’s not the same without her.

I know it will probably be like this forever. I’m not being pessimistic, just realistic. It may not always be as extreme, I pray it won’t, but it will always exist. Like an alcoholic, there will always be the danger of relapse. It’s the human condition.

It reminds me of a poem I wrote so long ago, when it was just beginning. A beautiful dandelion, so much potential, and your head’s getting popped. It cuts to the bone.

And all I can write are cryptic ramblings to a unexpecting public. Sorry folks, it’s not all quips and quotes.

Sometimes I think my calling in life is to be a contrarian. I seem to have to disagree with everything. I suppose there are bigger, more psychopathic contrarians than me, but I tend to disagree with a lot of things most people generally accept.

I feel it the most when I walk into a Christian bookstore. Yesterday I found a reprinted version of a book I loathe. I thought it would die a lonely death with a second-rate publisher. But alas, it’s been picked up and reprinted, and I’ve lost respect for a first-rate publishing house. To my horror, the most irritating aspect of that book was still there, untouched. I still have the original manuscript of that book that I was asked to read and give quotes for the back cover. I keep it on a shelf in my office as inspiration.

But that wasn’t the only thing I disagreed with. I noticed that in the entire “teen christian living” section, half of it was books about sex and dating. Sigh. I won’t even get into that.

But what I did get into were the several books about modesty. For some reason it’s a topic that’s gathering a lot of steam. Once upon a time I would have been on that train (and there’s probably entries in the archive to that effect). But now I see a lot of holes in the modesty logic. I read an article a few weeks back that really pissed me off, and it’s taken all my restraint not to write an all-out rant about it.

Instead I’ve decided to let the ideas fester, let my brain mull it over some more and see what I really think about it. I think in the end I’ll still be the contrarian, but I’m trying to bring a bit of levity to it. Just a bit though. I’m sure the rant is still coming.

With Abby off on the youth group missions trip for the week, it’s just me and Speak. It’s very quiet and particularly unmotivating. Not that I’ve been a slacker. I was up at 7:00 a.m. (better than normal) and I actually cooked something for dinner tonight (tacos). It’s just difficult when there’s not some semblance of a routine. When Abby was around I at least had her coming and going at normal work hours to keep me somewhat grounded in a workday reality. I left to run errands at 3:00 p.m. today and didn’t get home until after 7:00 p.m. Freedom and wheels are going to my head.

Yesterday I coped by re-reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I’m more than halfway through it, and probably would have finished tonight if I skipped the blogging.

Sometimes when Abby’s gone I think I’ll get so much more accomplished. I can hole up in my office and play on the computer until all hours of the night without any interruptions. But it doesn’t work that way. I’m less motivated when Abby’s not around. Maybe it’s the irresponsibility of bachelorhood sneaking in. Either way, I don’t care much for it. I’m a better person when my wife’s around, even if it means I spend less time accomplishing stuff.

Speak seems to be especially confused. He wanders around as if looking for Abby, and isn’t quite as active as he normally is. Either that or he’s just pissed off I gave him a bath yesterday.

I’m addicted to blogs. More like addicted to blogging, but it’s all the same. I’ve been blogging like an unemployed man on Monkey Outta Nowhere, which is odd since I’m now self-employed. I think part of it is the fact that I feel a real need to be entertained all the time. Gene Edward Veith had some comments about this kind of hyper-entertainment mentality, and they hit home with me.

When I can’t eat anything without either watching TV, surfing the web, or reading a magazine, you know there’s a problem. When there’s nothing new on my regular list of blogs and I start surfing to random blogs I don’t even know, craving something new and interesting, you know there’s a problem.

I guess on some redeeming note a lot of the blogging I’ve done on Monkey Outta Nowhere has a purpose. Some of the stuff may be fluff, but there are a few deeper things that are related to actual paying jobs I’m doing.

Those few instances aside, I still dream of a being a blog baron. I have a long way to go. Those few paying jobs that have resulted in random semi-related posts, along with my Google Ad income is hardly anything you’d call an empire. It’s not even a lemonade stand empire.

Sometimes I have a strange problem letting those fantasies go. I guess it’s a good thing I’m still resisting the urge to do a local St. Paul blog, as much as I still love the idea.

Sigh.

That about sums up how I feel some days.

With the annual birthday celebration comes the expected piles of dough from generous relatives. Despite getting a GameCube this year, I still have a rather healthy pile of birthday cash, which brings on the anxiety of how to spend such a wad.

I love getting birthday money because I’m notoriously cheap, and such a wad is a chance to finally buy the goodies I’ve been too responsible to spend money on. Birthday money doesn’t go in the budget, so there’s no guilt.

Yet as my wife points out, I spend so much time trying to plan and squeeze every penny out of my birthday stash, it’s hardly worth it. I admit she’s right. I do spend a lot of time planning what I could buy, checking out several items on my latest goodies list, adding them up, and seeing how I can maximize my birthday money. It’s really quite anal.

This year is no exception, though I’m finding myself torn. Part of my is haunted by the fact that I’m an entertainment junkie. Do I really need more CDs and DVDs? Yet other spending ideas, like putting the cash towards an iPod or going to the movies without guilt for the next several months are equally entertainment based. Entertainment seems to be what I like to spend my money on. I shudder at the thought of spending birthday money on clothes, something my wife would relish.

And so I go back to weighing the options. Simpsons Season 4? The few remaining U2 CDs I don’t already own? A pile of DVDs I could never justify buying? And I find myself asking strange questions, like is it way too nostalgic to buy the animated G.I. Joe series on DVD? Then I wonder if I should just go nuts on eBay.

Of course the responsible person out there is wondering what’s the big deal. Why don’t I just stick the cash in my wallet and spend it as I feel like it? Why do I feel this intense need to spend the money now? That’s just not the way I work. Birthday money is meant to burn a hole in my pocket.

Sigh. Sometimes I think way too much.

Sometimes weekends you intend to be relaxing become stir-crazy. You don’t have a lot going on, but enough so that it’s not a total nothing weekend. Then it starts raining. The water’s been coming down in puddles, steady and slow. Enough to get you wet, but not enough to be an energizing storm. Not light enough to want to take a walk, just the right amount to be a nuissance.

It really dampens the weekend. By Sunday evening you have no drive or energy to get going and do something. You feel sapped. Responsibility will return in 12 hours, so you don’t want to be responsible. You want to do nothing, but nothing doesn’t present itself. Many Sunday evenings we end up at Target, wandering the aisles and shopping for nothing as an activity.

I hate that stir-crazy feeling. It makes me want to spend money, wildly and uninhibited, as if that will ease the feeling. Movies, electronics, restaurants, food. Somehow I think any of those will make me feel better. In general I think I have a major weakness for comfort food. I think munching can make all things better. It’s a wonder I don’t have a weight problem.

Today I thought a Nintendo would be a nice solution to the stir-crazy feeling. That caged in, lack of responsible feeling demands doing something, something not necessarily productive, yet not totally wasteful. Not sitting on the couch drooling in front of the TV passive, but maybe moving an electronic character across the screen and lining up crystals and fruit will do the trick. That’s what I thought tonight anyway. A little $150 solution.

Stir crazy Sundays. They’re about as annoying as writing this entry, probably as annoying as reading it.