If a tree falls in the middle of the woods, does it make a sound

I don’t know exactly how that philosophical question goes and don’t feel like looking it up at the moment. I’m going to try to make this post as brief as possible, with some lengthy philosophical follow-up, perhaps, at a later date.

Volume I of My Journal may be permanently lost. Volume I is the yellow spiral-bound notebook I started on Februrary 22, 1989. It chronicles a few awful months of junior high. I recently though I’d convert it into a blog, so it would finally be out there. I’ve feared for the last 20 years that something would happen to my handwritten journals. If I lost them, proof of anything I chronicled would be lost with them. It would be devastating.

It does suck to a degree I don’t imagine many people can grasp.

I later decided a regularly-updated blog of the journal was a bad idea, but I recently stuck the notebook in my laptop bag. I figured, if I had no better idea of how to kill time at dialysis or elsewhere, transcribing the journal wouldn’t be the worst way to kill time. At least I’d have it all in permanent digital form, whether I shared it or not.

Now, it appears it’s gone. If I had left it at dialysis, one tech told me, “[the cleaning crew] probably would’ve thrown it out”. I’m pretty cynical, but even I was shocked that someone else would have such blatant disregard for someone’s property. They don’t need to know it was a 21-year-old recording of a personal history. But it was my someone’s stuff. Now it’s probably in a landfill. There are some pretty easy self-deprecating follow-ups lines to that. I’ll refrain for now.

I’ve got other things I’ve got to do at the moment…needed to vent about this and move on…


Butterflies Mating


Herman blur 2010.09.09






Aremid 2010.09.05

August 5 rapid blogging intro

Trying something different tonight. A brain-dump on several topics, but split into different entries based on topic. This way, I’m not lumping lots of unrelated tags into one post. And I’m increasing my superficial post and page counts at a time when I haven’t been posting much lately.

Tales of an eighth-grade nothing

UPDATE (7/20/2010): Upon further review, this really doesn’t seem like a fun, fruitful activity. I’m tempted to censor and remove this post. I’ll just kinda hide it.

Continue reading

Ikea and the local progressives and metablogging

I blogged via iPhone Thursday night and didn’t post it. It’s probably just as well, but, at 2AM late Saturday night, it’s Ambien time again, and my self-censoring doesn’t work well right now.

I’ll block-quote this in case I have any observations 48 hours later.

New bed sheets! Rarest of occasions. From IKEA. I love IKEA. written by iPhone, got some ambien going on so there are my excused for a disjointed post.

Today, I assembled my big purchase from IKEA–a new chair. Maybe I’ll have a Pulitzer-winning post about that in the days to come. Here’s a spoiler: it’s a POÄNG. (For some reason, the website fails to list the combination that I actually got.)

Dialysis still a pain in the ass. No one left to blame. Garrulous patients, waking up to sweats, waking up to frigid air, being paralyzed in deep sleep after coming home, feelin feverish the entire time i am at work…no desire to do anything productive after work on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

No comfort to be told that my “numbers are great.”

I’m getting lots of advice regarding whether I should have my kidneys removed. It’s seeming like the doctors are going to leave this chilling decision up to me.

What good will having the surgery or the transplant do me?

A nephrectomy post is in order for someday soon. Nephrectomy…what a lovely word. Oh, and I’d be getting a double-nephrectomy.

Tonight, the Durham young progressives who go by that name that I will not explicitly address had what was probably a pretty neat confluence of the local progressive intelligensia (word?) I long ago decided I felt isolated from this group despite numerous attempts to assimilate.

Too many grad students and post-docs and artists and community organizers and bikers and tri-athletes and assorted hip people of the world…I feel like a NOTHING around these people and when I do go to something, I leave the gathering prematurely .

I have yet to find a way that would let me stay. I reached out a couple of times trying to get the magical answer from the wise oracle of community organizing. Too busy or my problem is too intimate for an answer to be provided.

These kinds of thoughts related to feelings of alienation occur whenever anything is happening around town that I think I’d be interested in if not for the feeling that I just don’t quite fit in. Unfortunately, this means I don’t go out and try new things. I become more and more isolated from people. I live, if I am to believe The Independent and Bull City Rising and Barry’s blog and other exceptional sources, in a progressive, smart, vibrant, fun city. But I stay in my house.

Tonight, I have found myself with writer’s block, obsessing over the point of this site. I am reminded of a post I made back in September 2008 called Block.

My WordPress admin page to Add New Post…I have a blog…what do I want to do with my blog…

I star dozens of Google Reader articles every week, ostensibly because I want to share them with people…but I usually don’t…because I don’t know if I’m preaching to the choir…or trying to grab the attention of people who might not otherwise care about something..and am I really making anyone care who didn’t before…or is it ok to just post something to make the point that I care about something…

I have more lousy experiences at dialysis than I chronicle in here…but everyone gets the point that dialysis sucks…what good does it do to chronicle it in detail…especially because I’d truly prefer not to think about it when I’m not actually there…

The occasional ramblings about feeling like a failure…Feelings along these lines bubble up far more than I choose to write about them in here…I don’t know what I am accomplishing when I publicly write about these feelings.

Pet photos…I keep taking ‘em, and I keep posting ‘em…the world must see my pets…

And why I’m reeling off thoughts about blogging tonight? I just noticed it’s been a week since I posted anything.

But I’m digging up what I had saved on my iPhone only, and you’ve read that. So this is sufficient for tonight.

It’s 2:35AM now. Sleep very soon…and likely sleep until I convince myself that it’s ridiculous to remain in bed any longer (likely 11 or 12:00).

Where’s the requisite pet pic?

Z-curl  2010.07.01

WordPress 3.0 / Toastiest 5.0

PurpleI’ve been working on the new theme. The theme came with a dark-reddish blackground. I figured I’d go with that. Change is good. But then I figured I could alter that image to make it close to the blue that I have currently. So I tried to do that. After some analysis, I realized I had a purple-ish background, not a blue one.

My red-green colorblindness has impaired me in important decision-making from time to time over the years. One problem has been that I sometimes do not initially realize that a shade of purple is, in fact purple, rather than blue.

In this case, I figured, what the heck, I will go with purple.

Purple can be manly. Then again, what is “manly”? Interestingly enough, that will be the subject, I think, of my minister friend’s sermon tomorrow. If I can get out of bed, I really plan to go to this service in the morning. I’ll ask her about purple tomorrow, and what that might say about me.