''Writing is a holistic approach to defining absurdity, and a direct route to insanity.'' -M.T. GEYER, 1994
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As I lie here in bed with my dogs, I write this to maintain my active statusand not lose this page. Life has been great! Bike running great! Dogs cute! House tended to. Happiness in new friends.
I am 45, chubby, limping, in pain, working, growing, and eager to continue living life to the best extent possible.
I first learned about Dr. Martens in 1992, when my friend Matt, who was cool as all get-out, was wearing a pair on campus at the small college I was attending in New Hampshire. The shoes were Docs, the 1460s, kind of shiny, and not the boots. When I got the chance, I had a pair of my own. Wearing Docs fit in with my developing darker persona in the early-to-mid '90s. I wore mostly black, listened to the Sisters of Mercy, wore an old Army-Surplus field coat, and was pissed off at the world. Living in Boston, and living without a car, I walked everywhere. The city streets are rough on footwear, and my jobs always required a lot of time on my feet, so the Docs were great! --Once I had them broken in. As a teacher, I liked that they were tough and comfortable and fit well with my lifestyle as a young ESL teacher on the make (if an ESL teacher can ever be said to be "on the make"). Then I moved to Fiji, and Docs did not work in that environment at all. They quickly molde...
This morning, I was reading an interview with a Scottie breeder. She was going on about how Scotties are very independent and are certainly NOT lapdogs. She said they are likely to be aggressive towards strange dogs and that they hate to be treated with condescension. Apparently, my Scotties are not really Scotties. Maybe my evil plan worked: I bought them as wee puppies and brought them home to a family of Malteses, six Malteses, to be exact. I reasoned that this environment would teach my Scotties how to behave in a more Maltese fashion, and it worked! For starters, they are very much lap dogs! They love to lie on me or very near me, and they love to get rubbins and snuggles, just like my Malteses did (before the ex took them to FL). They are very friendly with other dogs, which is rather unlike my Malteses, actually. And they are quite well-behaved, generally speaking. My Scotties are not typical, then, except for a few factors: First, they do not listen very well, espe...
Since moving to North Carolina, I have been thinking a lot about the meaning of life, and more specifically, the meaning of my own life. It seemed for a time that life had lost its meaning for me since I was no longer foolishly pursuing a doctorate at UH, a place that was wholly wrong for me. But even deeper than this, life had lost its luster because I had done just about everything that I wanted to do. Like a video game, I had gone through all the levels and gotten to the end of the game, and now I was just floating around, not knowing what to do next or what to look forward to. What does one do if one has achieved one's goals, and the list of goals has run out? Did I peak too early? Perhaps, but I think the problem was one of perspective. I was living for something, towards something, and that was the problem. Once I had gotten to the last of the mountaintops, I looked out across a vast emptiness, with nowhere else to go. The boundary of my universe had been reached - or...
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