Blah, blah, blah. I should call this my "blahg" instead of a "blog"... A good blog is like a good soup, I think. Nothing like sitting down to a nice, hot, yummy bowl of soup! You stir the spoon, the steam rises, the goodies that have settled to the bottom make a quick appearance, surfacing like dolphins for a quick breath before diving back down again. A bowl of liquid love. There's canned soup, and there's homemade soup... and there's experimental recipes... My "soups" have a lots of stuff thrown in... mostly whatever's left over at the end of the day. You're eating my leftovers! And yes, this soup is steamy... because it's mostly hot air....
My kids make me happy. Truly, I appreciate a long list of things in my life, but very few things on that list truly make me happy. I don't know if they are joined on that short list by anything/anyone else really. Everyone/Everything else comes with so much baggage, both spoken and unspoken, obvious and subtle. My kids are so clear cut, and they each genuinely make my heart smile. Sorry, it was Father's Day Proper today, so my kids are much on my mind, I hope you'll indulge me.
I should record the average conversations I have with Maggie (my 3 year old) and play them here. Or save them up in an archive. Just kicking back, chatting about stuff. How so many different topics can be seamlessly woven into a single conversation, I don't know. Perhaps that's why I do the same here in these posts (well, except the "seamless" part...) - I learned it from Maggie. We laugh and tell silly jokes, we talk about serious things like what makes us angry and why we like to be happy instead, and we tell each other "I love you more", "No, I love you more", and we squeeze each other and smooch each other's cheeks and take turns wearing my hat/glasses. We share headphones - one ear each. We play games together on the "com-poo-tee-err". I can't describe to you what it does for me. And when she comes out with one of my goofy sayings, out of the blue, and it fits the situation, I feel like I'm on top of the world.
I don't know what I'd do without any of them.
Of course, it's not 100% sunshine and roses - I mean, it is real life, you know. There are the puzzlements and aggravations, the things about them I'll likely never understand. I mean, honestly, I hate to bring this up again, but apparently there is a cable channel that, on weekends, will play back-to-back episodes of America's Next Top Model, I mean, all day long. They cannot get enough of that show. They love it to no end, all 4 of them. I am truly baffled. I try to bond with them, as a group, by sitting and watching it with them, but I have yet to make it past, say, 8 minutes. The females are all petty airheads who all cry throughout the show. The guys are all gay, and especially one of the hosts of the show, a big black guy who apparently think he's a woman, wears woman's clothing and make-up, struts around like he's a supermodel, the most over-the-top, self assured, in your face be-all-end-all diva homosexual you've ever seen. Yeah, I know, we're all supposed to be progressive and let people "be who they are", I get it. But I'm sorry, it never ceases to strike me as just plain wrong. A man should not act like that, on TV or in public, period. OK, fine, be gay, whatever. I'm not saying being gay should be illegal. But friggin be a dude. You're not a woman, stop pretending you are, stop playing dress-up, stop being catty and painting your fake nails and wearing women's clothing and prancing about like a horse in ballet slippers and a wig.
I'm sorry. I just don't think it's cool. My gut says, "Stop it, you moron. Be a man." It's like The Emperor's New Clothes. I cannot watch it, and I cannot believe anyone else could watch it, much less eat it up like my family does. "Oh, dad, you just don't get it! I love him, he's hilarious." Yeah, real funny.
OK, I'm done venting.
I've come to a decision about camp. You know I live to entertain you all, and I'd hate to test your loyalty, but I think I'm going to take a break for camp. Before I leave for camp Monday afternoon, I'll pop on here and post a quickie, and then it will be Friday night before I post again. I really think I should focus this week at camp. I feel like I've slowly been pulled and stretched the past year or so, and I feel near a breaking point in many areas of my life. If I have a chance this week to make some breakthrough's and come to some understandings about certain things, I need to grab it now, before I run out of chances, and cave in completely. It's not like blogging every day is particularly hard for me - heck, you all know how long-winded I can be. I can write a thousand words, no problem, even when I feel like I have nothing to say. Yet I think I'll take this week to focus, without distraction, with the hopes that some deep-level shifting and modification can take place. Otherwise, y'all may be visiting me in the loony bin instead of in here.
I would delve into some of the problem areas, but I don't want to depress you, I want to entertain you! Like today's Funny T-Shirt of the Day!
Meh, you're right. Funny doesn't quite work today, sorry. I mean, it's funny, but not as funny as it would have been in another context. I shouldn't have wasted it on today's post...
Context is everything, really. In the grand scheme, I have nothing to complain about. In many ways, my life is great, I live like a king. Great house, steady work, wonderful kids, two cars (one paid off, the other close to it), wonderful weather, healthy family, no chronic pain, good friends, a nice church, no enemies (that I know of), lots of cool readers for my blog, plenty to occupy me. But it's the little unseen things, the things that poke at you in the same place, day after day, poke poke poke, and after a while, you get driven to your wits' end, "great" life notwithstanding. I think that's common to everyone, in whatever state they live in. How to deal with the little things before they drive you to drink or insanity or regretful action.
Poke poke poke. It hurts after a while. You get poked lightly in the same spot ten thousand times, and you're apt to freak out. Then someone on the outside looks in and says "Man, what went on here?" Then you poke them a couple times, and they go, "That? That's what he freaked out about? Man, what a wuss." Context is everything.
OK, enough pseudo-psychological nonsense. Sorry, Father's Day has had a strange effect on me today, both in contemplating my kids, and contemplating the collection of fathers and father-figures in my own life. A mixed bag, emotionally. Kinda did a number on me.
So I'll be going away for a week, and hopefully coming back a different/better person. I still anticipate being goofy and random enough to be worth peeking in on now and then, so fear not. I'm not going to come back a raging religious nut or suddenly-serious-as-death stick in the mud. Just hoping to get some under-the-radar things in better order.
Well, sorry for the out-of-sorts post today. Until tomorrow, this fellow traveler, signing off.