Happy Birthday to Me, A Collection of Thoughts

I got the headaches man.  Had me one yesterday and another one today.  Awesome.

Sometimes when I lose my grip I wonder what to make of heaven/All the times I thought to reach up/All the times I had to give…

Sometimes, when playing Mario Kart for the Wii, life gets very tense, especially when it’s the last lap and you’re near the finish line and a blue shell’s coming, and a red shell, and a lightning bolt, and a POW block.  It’s tense.

I now have 24 years in this body.  It’s amazing how strong and how weak our flesh is.  We can take so much, but we’re not invincible.  We’re frail.

Babies underneath their beds/Hospitals that cannot treat all the wounds that money causes, all the comforts of cathedrals…

I hope to finish Boneshaker this weekend.  I was going to read Lamentation next, but I have other obligations first, like books from the publishers.  They should be good, though, and quick reads.

It finally crossed above the freezing mark two days ago.  Having been below 32 for several days, it’s nice to be back up to sunshine and warmer temperatures.  It hit 50 yesterday.  Good ole Kentucky.

 All the cries of thirsty children—this is our inheritance…

This whole portion control thing sucks.  I don’t eat until I’m full, but I’m no longer hungry, either.  It’s like turning off a spout, and it’s tough when the food’s good.  Real tough.  And now that a cruise is likely going to happen, I have reason to work it.

My birthstone is garnet.  I think that’s a red/brown color.  The Challenger went to pieces less than two weeks after I was born.  My uncle shot himself in the head (accidentally) in the year I was born.  He was sixteen.  He survived.  He now has really terrible headaches, not like mine.  Martin Luther King, Jr. and I share the same day of birth, just different years.  Rafael Nadal, world class tennis extraordinaire, shares the same year, just different days.

All the rage of watching mothers—this is our greatest offense.

Here’s an open letter that I did not receive for my birthday.  I’ve never received it from anybody.  It just is.  And that’s really the senders name.

Dear Logan,

You are so totally rad, dude.  You inspire me to challenge myself and find things that I never thought I could find with my metal detector.  You helped me with my grief counseling after Lucky died and you know what that was like.  You are my own personal Luke Skywalker, bringing me from the Dark Side to the Light, except when we’re talking about chocolate, and then it’s all dark baby.  And that one time we played Sim City 3000 for fifteen consecutive hours.  That was crazy.  Remember how we destroyed that place, all megalomaniacal and stuff?  Happy birthday dude!

Sincerely,

xxxxxxxx—xx-xxxxxxxxx

Spending some more Christmas gift cards for supper tonight.  Red Lobster sounds delicious.  I love their salmon.  I lived the life of a vegetarian for one week.  It was tough.  On the seventh day I ate two double cheeseburgers or something like that for lunch and savored the beef.

The Sound and the Fury of Kristopher A. Denby had an interesting post yesterday, related a bit to the ongoing discussion we had about homelessness.  You can find the post here.  I particularly liked the quote by Mo. G. at the beginning.

Holy moly!  I forgot to say how the backpack thing went the other night.  Alex and I decided to ride the busses around instead of walk, thinking that that was where we’d find people in need.  (The bus systems sucks and is very small, but hey, it’s all we have.)  Sure enough, we did.  After getting our seats, I looked around.  There was an elderly woman up front.  A college-aged kid across from me.  Alex to my right.  And a young couple in the rear.  (That, friends, is our loaded bus ride.)  After a while I noticed the young couple had a grocery bag with clothes in it, so I assumed that they would be in need and I started silently praying for them and for us.  A few moments later Alex went and sat across from them and started talking.  We gave them both of our backpacks—one male, one female—and asked what else we could be doing for them.  Shaine said he was a welder and needed a steady job; Rachel said she had two kids and a baby on the way and she was selling plasma twice a week to get by.  Neither could drive as their licenses were suspended.  We figured out a way to get in touch with them and they got off the bus a bit later.  Now we’re looking for ways to help this couple.

Part of the beauty of helping the homeless and those in need is that it touches on the humanity of our life.  These frail things need to be reminded that we’re human, that we can show compassion and care.  By taking a few minutes (or hours) out of your schedule and talking to someone, that forms a connection, reiterating the fact that the world is not a cesspool yet.  It’s worth it to me.

It’s getting closer.  Lost.  The final season.  Oh I can’t wait.

Headaches.  Man.