Been Slacking...
I didn't think I knew what to write a blog about, and then I came up with a bunch of little things I had floating around in my grey matter, so I am gonna bullet point a blog. Lord knows it will probably turn into some long winded diatribes, and some briefly touched upon subjects. Either way, I hope it sates your appetite for my words, or maybe it will cause a hunger, that's okay too.
-Today is the fifth anniversary of my accident. Five years ago at roughly 6:20 I was hit by a locomotive, scariest thing ever. I was just reflecting on it a bit ago, and I was thinking about how during the whole thing I never stopped figuring a way of escape, I never quit moving until the locomotives did and I knew I was safe. I was dragging myself along with a shattered leg and a sprained ankle on the other one, and I never quit moving. I eyeballed a few different means of escape, and I was not going to disappear that day, wasn't an option. I can remember feeling my leg get struck, and I honestly can't remember it getting pinned in, but I remember the leap out of the way, and something weighing on it as I leaped. I now realize what it would have meant had I not leaped, and it was the smartest thing I have ever done in my life, honestly. I need to trust my leaping more often, the adrenaline rush alone is worth it.
-Rites of Passage... There are various things in life that we do that allow us to move forward in a way that shows us and others that we are growing. They vary as we go, graduations, religious rites, personal achievements, jobs, on and on, but they mean something at that moment, and they give your life a bit of a gleam it didn't have before then. Last week I had one of these moments, and I still kinda smile about it. Dad's birthday landed on my days off and I told him I would take him and mom out to eat for his birthday, hell bring grandma with, what's that, my cousin's family too? Sure! They can come along, but let them know I am buying, and I won't take no for an answer. So I took the old man out for supper, foot the bill for six adults and a child, and it was a nice night all around. Good food, good company, good shit! The thing about this being a rite of passage is that you're showing your parents that they raised you right, that you have taken what they gave you, and now you're able to repay them without having to jump through hoops. It's a subtle movement forward, but it's there, it is understated, but it shines forth, and I like it.
-Reactions to things said... Mom has a cousin that is dealing with some serious health issues, he's been in the ICU for a while and he's fighting, but it's still up in the air as far as whether he will pull through or not. He's a good dude, been around a while, but he's also a bit of a loner. I was a little surprised by how hard mom was taking it, because I never thought them that close, but family is important to her, so I get it, and appreciate it. As his prognosis got slightly better, we were talking about something, not sure I remember what exactly, but something. The talk turned to her saying that I didn't have to leave anytime soon because the folks are happy to have me here. I said something about that being fine, but it was time I should and I was ready too. That's when she dropped the bomb and said "You're right, I don't want you winding up like Dennis". That's when I realized one of the reasons why she was taking it so hard, and a mother's love and desire for her child to be happy came through. She would probably be fine with me staying in this town (probably not this house) but she knows I can't do that and be happy, as far as I am concerned. Funny how those random sentences will brand themselves on your psyche.
-The witchcraft of the gloves at work... I don't know what the hell it is, but the gloves at work sap the moisture from my hands. At first I only noticed it when I wore a new pair of leather gloves, and I figured the breaking in process had something to do with it. Now I notice that even the cloth ones, or knit kind do it. Once you make that realization, there is only one answer for what is going on...witchcraft. Those old crones want to look young again, and so they do not go with botox, but rather they magic up a shipment of gloves, and they sap the suppleness from my hands. There really is no other answer for this, so do not try to feed me one. No, I will fight it as best I can, but if you see me storming past you with a pitchfork, a bucket of water, a torch, and possibly a chicken foot, well you know I got fed up, and I am going after the glove witches. They can't be that hard to find.
-Books and the devouring of them... I love reading, and I thank my mother for instilling that in me early on. I try to read as much and as often as I can, which means that college was a blessing and a curse. I had to read a lot, but not that much of it was for pleasure, which might be another reason that I took so many English classes actually. I had a drunken revelation once that it was a hard decision for me to make picking Anthropology of English, and really, I hadn't realized that it was, but yeah, it was. From kindergarten on, I had thought that I would work in a museum. I had no idea what it took to work in one, and then one day I saw a thing that said curators had degrees in Anthropology, so I jumped in. Two feet, no looking...how deep is the water? Doesn't fucking matter, Anthro is my future, and it was, and still is, but I took as many English classes as I could along the way. When I found out I had to have a level 4 language proficiency or at least 20 credits in another discipline in order to get my B.A., well that was a no brainer, English was my at least 20 credits. Hell I already had at least 11 or so credits in it. I almost minored in it, but I let myself get distracted from that notion, but I am okay with that too. You see, I devour books. I feel accomplishments when I finish books. I love getting to the half way point, and even more I love getting to that last 100 pages and knowing it might be a sprint to the finish. I reflect on them and marvel at how much I soak up without knowing it. I have a dream of writing, and it's one I know is attainable on some level, one that causes me to look at the words in a different manner as well. I keep a notebook of quotes near my bed, and I add to it as I find lines, phrases, and paragraphs that sing to me, that call out to me, that just flat out draw attention to them. I take solace in their wonderful comfort, and inspiration from their construction. I try to read as many books in a year as possible, keeping track all the way. The good and bad of this is that I know what I read and when, but I can also get down on myself for taking too long with one book, or between books. There is just something about holding a book and being transported away, something I will always run too, and something I will impart on others in some form on some nearby future day.
-Deviations... I have deviated a bit from the list I wrote, and partly because the things I wrote on it have merged with others, and became the paragraphs above this one. But that's okay, I like deviations. Deviations are adventures that don't necessarily have to be far reaching. A deviation from a set course can lead to unchartered waters, and once there, you might find something you never knew you were looking for. Deviations in blogging often happen to me. The way I blog is that I get an idea in my noggin, and I kick it around for a while, let it get it's legs under it, see if it will walk, some do, some don't, but I let them tell me. If it walks, then it gets a gait all it's own, and once it has that mastered, well it's time for fingers to push keys. I stream of conscience these things as best I can, which I think is partly because my fingers crave freedom in writing that they never got while I was in school. I often start walking along the path that an idea's gait has worn into my brain, and just as often I get distracted by the pretty bird flying off to my right. The beauty is inescapable so I follow, just another deviation, but it allows me to address something I didn't necessarily even know I had an opinion on. I like my deviations, and I hope you do as well, chances are they are going to accompany me for many, many years. Acclimate yourself as you see fit, because I am running with this shit!
So, what do you think? Any ideas of what I can deviate on in the future?
I didn't think I knew what to write a blog about, and then I came up with a bunch of little things I had floating around in my grey matter, so I am gonna bullet point a blog. Lord knows it will probably turn into some long winded diatribes, and some briefly touched upon subjects. Either way, I hope it sates your appetite for my words, or maybe it will cause a hunger, that's okay too.
-Today is the fifth anniversary of my accident. Five years ago at roughly 6:20 I was hit by a locomotive, scariest thing ever. I was just reflecting on it a bit ago, and I was thinking about how during the whole thing I never stopped figuring a way of escape, I never quit moving until the locomotives did and I knew I was safe. I was dragging myself along with a shattered leg and a sprained ankle on the other one, and I never quit moving. I eyeballed a few different means of escape, and I was not going to disappear that day, wasn't an option. I can remember feeling my leg get struck, and I honestly can't remember it getting pinned in, but I remember the leap out of the way, and something weighing on it as I leaped. I now realize what it would have meant had I not leaped, and it was the smartest thing I have ever done in my life, honestly. I need to trust my leaping more often, the adrenaline rush alone is worth it.
-Rites of Passage... There are various things in life that we do that allow us to move forward in a way that shows us and others that we are growing. They vary as we go, graduations, religious rites, personal achievements, jobs, on and on, but they mean something at that moment, and they give your life a bit of a gleam it didn't have before then. Last week I had one of these moments, and I still kinda smile about it. Dad's birthday landed on my days off and I told him I would take him and mom out to eat for his birthday, hell bring grandma with, what's that, my cousin's family too? Sure! They can come along, but let them know I am buying, and I won't take no for an answer. So I took the old man out for supper, foot the bill for six adults and a child, and it was a nice night all around. Good food, good company, good shit! The thing about this being a rite of passage is that you're showing your parents that they raised you right, that you have taken what they gave you, and now you're able to repay them without having to jump through hoops. It's a subtle movement forward, but it's there, it is understated, but it shines forth, and I like it.
-Reactions to things said... Mom has a cousin that is dealing with some serious health issues, he's been in the ICU for a while and he's fighting, but it's still up in the air as far as whether he will pull through or not. He's a good dude, been around a while, but he's also a bit of a loner. I was a little surprised by how hard mom was taking it, because I never thought them that close, but family is important to her, so I get it, and appreciate it. As his prognosis got slightly better, we were talking about something, not sure I remember what exactly, but something. The talk turned to her saying that I didn't have to leave anytime soon because the folks are happy to have me here. I said something about that being fine, but it was time I should and I was ready too. That's when she dropped the bomb and said "You're right, I don't want you winding up like Dennis". That's when I realized one of the reasons why she was taking it so hard, and a mother's love and desire for her child to be happy came through. She would probably be fine with me staying in this town (probably not this house) but she knows I can't do that and be happy, as far as I am concerned. Funny how those random sentences will brand themselves on your psyche.
-The witchcraft of the gloves at work... I don't know what the hell it is, but the gloves at work sap the moisture from my hands. At first I only noticed it when I wore a new pair of leather gloves, and I figured the breaking in process had something to do with it. Now I notice that even the cloth ones, or knit kind do it. Once you make that realization, there is only one answer for what is going on...witchcraft. Those old crones want to look young again, and so they do not go with botox, but rather they magic up a shipment of gloves, and they sap the suppleness from my hands. There really is no other answer for this, so do not try to feed me one. No, I will fight it as best I can, but if you see me storming past you with a pitchfork, a bucket of water, a torch, and possibly a chicken foot, well you know I got fed up, and I am going after the glove witches. They can't be that hard to find.
-Books and the devouring of them... I love reading, and I thank my mother for instilling that in me early on. I try to read as much and as often as I can, which means that college was a blessing and a curse. I had to read a lot, but not that much of it was for pleasure, which might be another reason that I took so many English classes actually. I had a drunken revelation once that it was a hard decision for me to make picking Anthropology of English, and really, I hadn't realized that it was, but yeah, it was. From kindergarten on, I had thought that I would work in a museum. I had no idea what it took to work in one, and then one day I saw a thing that said curators had degrees in Anthropology, so I jumped in. Two feet, no looking...how deep is the water? Doesn't fucking matter, Anthro is my future, and it was, and still is, but I took as many English classes as I could along the way. When I found out I had to have a level 4 language proficiency or at least 20 credits in another discipline in order to get my B.A., well that was a no brainer, English was my at least 20 credits. Hell I already had at least 11 or so credits in it. I almost minored in it, but I let myself get distracted from that notion, but I am okay with that too. You see, I devour books. I feel accomplishments when I finish books. I love getting to the half way point, and even more I love getting to that last 100 pages and knowing it might be a sprint to the finish. I reflect on them and marvel at how much I soak up without knowing it. I have a dream of writing, and it's one I know is attainable on some level, one that causes me to look at the words in a different manner as well. I keep a notebook of quotes near my bed, and I add to it as I find lines, phrases, and paragraphs that sing to me, that call out to me, that just flat out draw attention to them. I take solace in their wonderful comfort, and inspiration from their construction. I try to read as many books in a year as possible, keeping track all the way. The good and bad of this is that I know what I read and when, but I can also get down on myself for taking too long with one book, or between books. There is just something about holding a book and being transported away, something I will always run too, and something I will impart on others in some form on some nearby future day.
-Deviations... I have deviated a bit from the list I wrote, and partly because the things I wrote on it have merged with others, and became the paragraphs above this one. But that's okay, I like deviations. Deviations are adventures that don't necessarily have to be far reaching. A deviation from a set course can lead to unchartered waters, and once there, you might find something you never knew you were looking for. Deviations in blogging often happen to me. The way I blog is that I get an idea in my noggin, and I kick it around for a while, let it get it's legs under it, see if it will walk, some do, some don't, but I let them tell me. If it walks, then it gets a gait all it's own, and once it has that mastered, well it's time for fingers to push keys. I stream of conscience these things as best I can, which I think is partly because my fingers crave freedom in writing that they never got while I was in school. I often start walking along the path that an idea's gait has worn into my brain, and just as often I get distracted by the pretty bird flying off to my right. The beauty is inescapable so I follow, just another deviation, but it allows me to address something I didn't necessarily even know I had an opinion on. I like my deviations, and I hope you do as well, chances are they are going to accompany me for many, many years. Acclimate yourself as you see fit, because I am running with this shit!
So, what do you think? Any ideas of what I can deviate on in the future?
It's nice that you give your ideas and deviations the time and freedom to germinate, and ripen,
to grow and mature.
I'm far less patient and much less disciplined.
It's also nice that your family allows you this opportunity. Every time my father in law visits we always have to fight over who's gonna pick up the tab. He's been retired for years, and I'm the only person at the table with, not only a career, but a regular paycheck.
Still, it's always a fight.
&
Fucking witches