theology&geometry

Back in my day, you could elect to carve a pumpkin and it would stand tall (if somewhat increasingly moldy and smelly) for weeks. Sure, the sheer force of gravity and effects of oxygen would eventually turn the jack-o-lantern in on itself, turning its face into something resembling a toothless old man, but you felt like you got your money’s worth out of him at least.

They just don’t make jack-o-lanterns like they used to, I guess. Case in point: Congressman Cackleface’s swift collapse this week. He was unveiled to the public in the wee hours of Sunday morning, and I found myself scooping him up and disposing of him Thursday afternoon. That’s five days! Five! Was it political pressure? Was it the unexpected rain that poured into and filled his gourd TWICE in two days? Was it the slug I found perched on his crown Wednesday night? Was it karma for the amount of salt I dumped on the slug I found on his crown Wednesday night? I’ve got my eye on Pumpkinlitico to answer these questions, and maybe Gawker will one day publish a chickenshit article by some anonymous brah bee who tried to pollinate Congressman Cackleface’s parent flower but was turned off by the furriness of its pistil.

Anyway, both Councilman Chuckles and Congressman Cackleface enjoyed your support and — especially — the PayPal slush fund they used as petty cash to fund their tea-light addiction.

Yesterday I had a very intense — but mercifully brief — longing for Christmas.

The manfriend said, “Tell me a story.”

So I told him not one, but two stories about dead animals.

And now I wait to see if the Universe is going to issue me an attagirl, or a smack in the face.

… for the post title you will see directly below this box.

There are times, internet, when I can’t turn my brain off and it feels like maybe I don’t need to anyway. Times when I think if I just stick it out until the sun comes up, I can get started on a new day without worrying about sleeping at all, and gain so many hours of productivity.

Right now, this second, is one of those times. I have so much to do tomorrow — late April is and has been for four years without question the busiest time in my life — yet it is so late that if I go to bed any time within the next hour or so, I will sleep until noon. Just because my body will demand it when I enter that first REM cycle at 7 a.m. So. Do I wait for the sunrise with the knowledge that my crash with come in the afternoon? Or do I trudge into the dark and empty bedroom with the knowledge that I won’t be able to wake up when I need to?

I tell you, as natural as being a night owl comes to me, I would give just about anything for a normal schedule. These hours? Well. They are more or less ruining my life.

And my mind.

Do Ray Me sans voice from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo.

Me, aloud, on the car ride home: I argued the word “miraculous” off the front page today.
Me, pretending to be someone else, in my skull: Why?
Me, aloud: Because it’s not the fucking 700 Club.

Scene: In pasture by pond, youngest nephew fishing.

Me: That horse is about to poop!
Youngest nephew: Huh?
Me: Its tail is raised! Awww, it went behind a tree. How modest.
Youngest nephew: Ew, did you want to watch it?
Me: Kinda!
Youngest nephew: [horrified expression]

I broke my blog in a major way just now. I think I deleted a bunch of shit, including my WP install or something stupid like that. I was using Filezilla to do install a WordPress plugin that would have backed up my database and upgraded WP, when my pinkie — the most idiotic of all my fingers — hit the delete key and suddenly shit started moving and turning green and red and I kept seeing “delete delete delete” in the status window thingy and it took me a beat or twelve to realize what was happening. Well, not what was happening, but that SOME BAD SHIT WAS GOING DOWN. That’s when I hit the abort button and visited the blog and saw this screen and started crying like a little bitch. Thank God Sig knows what the hell is going on in the world. He didn’t even make fun of my dumb ass — too much — as he got me back up and running. HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF. AND he upgraded my WordPress to the current version, which I had been putting off for forevs. (It’s pretty slick.) I owe him a keg of beer. Every day. For the rest of his life.

You’ll notice that I’ve lost my lovely flocked background and my header. I can live with that for now. Those files are somewhere (my laptop maybe?). The important thing is that I didn’t lose SIX YEARS’ worth of posts. Which reminds me: It’s my six-year blogiversary! Sort of. My archives only go back to November of 2003, but I “blogged” using basic HTML on my previous (now dead) site starting in August or September of that year. I can never remember the exact date. What a wonderful way to celebrate by reminding myself that these pixels could all disappear at any given moment. I guess if those monks can be at peace with the destruction of their art, I need to get right with the impermanence of my own. (But mostly I need to learn to keep my files backed up like a moderately intelligent human being.)