I love air conditioning!!!
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Here we are again, back home, safe and sound, discovering the little
questions that I am renowned for contemplating. On the block
today is the topic of the 'home page'.
What does everyone use for their 'home page'?
I have different ones on different computers. Mostly a hold-back
from previous setups of the various computers. My old, still
functioning system, has www.mysask.com as the home page. This is
a hold over from the days of SaskTel's Sympatico affiliation.
Most of the rest have the default www.msn.com selection, that you get
when you install Windows. www.msn.com is a servicable choice for
a home page. It has a nice snapshot of interesting articles to
fill a 30 second period when you start up a browser.
I go to Yahoo a lot. I don't search with it. I use Google,
like 99.98% of internet users worldwide. But Yahoo has Groups,
which provide me considerable amusement, the email system is better
than Hotmail because they give more storage. The Maps are
handy. All in all, Yahoo provides me more utility than MSN.
Does anyone else use Yahoo as their 'home page'? Should I switch?
Please, discuss.
Toodles!!!
questions that I am renowned for contemplating. On the block
today is the topic of the 'home page'.
What does everyone use for their 'home page'?
I have different ones on different computers. Mostly a hold-back
from previous setups of the various computers. My old, still
functioning system, has www.mysask.com as the home page. This is
a hold over from the days of SaskTel's Sympatico affiliation.
Most of the rest have the default www.msn.com selection, that you get
when you install Windows. www.msn.com is a servicable choice for
a home page. It has a nice snapshot of interesting articles to
fill a 30 second period when you start up a browser.
I go to Yahoo a lot. I don't search with it. I use Google,
like 99.98% of internet users worldwide. But Yahoo has Groups,
which provide me considerable amusement, the email system is better
than Hotmail because they give more storage. The Maps are
handy. All in all, Yahoo provides me more utility than MSN.
Does anyone else use Yahoo as their 'home page'? Should I switch?
Please, discuss.
Toodles!!!
Friday, July 16, 2004
Thursday, July 15, 2004
8:16 PM - Mountain Daylight Savings Time
Something happened today.
I'm sitting on an airplane right now. There is this agitated man sitting next to me. He keeps fidgeting. Not that I care really, but it would be irritating if my mind wasn't 1000 miles away.
Something happened today.
I'm sorry Melissa. I swear I didn't mean to ignore you. You deserve better than I behaved. You have my apology, and hopefully that will suffice until I can beg for forgiveness.
Something happened today.
I think about all that has happened to me. I find myself contemplating the series of events that have come before this moment. And if I judge it honestly, things are better than good. I have no cause for true dis-satisfaction.
Except for one thing . . .
Something happened today.
I wish I could stop thinking. For one hour, I wish I could sit in a moment and not have to listen to the demons and voices that haunt the great caverns in my mind. Giant spaces, that lust for stimulation and knowledge, to fill them. But as I attempt to insinuate worthwhile thoughts in these gaping chasms, I find myself deafened by thoughts of the failures of my past.
Why must I have these moments? Why can I not escape from the shrieking cacophony of wailing torments? I loathe this layer of despair that must coat my heart.
Something happened today.
What do you do when you reflect on a moment, a decision, a fork in the road where you chose the path that was paved, and well lit, as opposed to the one through the dark, uncharted, and frightening forest? How do you sleep in the night, when your eyes are wide open, and you realize that the safe, easy path you chose ended in a desolate wasteland, and not the comfortable garden you were hoping for?
I met a new friend today. Her name was Natasha. (Why did I choose the past tense? More pessimism?) It was a peculiar moment. It was not at all in context for me. A pretty, obviously younger (to a significant degree) girl sat down next to me in the Albequerque airport. And to my utter surprise, I spoke to her first.
And from there she launched in a conversation with me that did not abate until she boarded our mutual plane. We talked, we joked, we laughed, we had fun. Granted, the bulk of the exchange was her talking and me listening but it remained a shared moment.
When we disembarked in Phoenix I sought her out because I had enjoyed her company immensely and I hoped for more, should her next departure be some hours away. It was, and we shared lunch. I saw her to her gate and we discovered her plane was delayed. I got another couple hours of her company. I was elated.
The depth to which we explored amazes me still. She was smart, articulate, poised and knowledgeable, belie-ing her tender age of only 18. We talked of families, pasts, gifts and talents, points of personal liability, sex, politics, religion and faith, human behaviour. It was one of the most intoxicating verbal discourses I can ever remember having.
And it was over, gone too soon. An email address shared, she boarded her plane for Vancouver. A single serving friend? Only time will tell.
So why the allusion of misery? It made me remember the decision I made, that I regret. It is the one that haunts me in the dark night, when the room is black but the eyes are wide.
Natasha happened to be in New Mexico because she was defying the wishes of her parents (although they didn't sound that reasonable, even subtracting for teenage hyperbole) and going to a foreign country for the sake of love. She had made a wild, impetuous decision and run off to be with her 'boyfriend'. (long story to the quotation marks - please simply accept them with the dubiousness I am suggesting) The un-erasable smile, glow in her skin, and joy resonating in her voice proved to me that she was happy with the decision, despite the parental wrath that awaited her at home.
As my flight out of Phoenix was delayed 90 minutes, I had plenty of time (altogether too much, to be completely frank) to reflect on the parallel in Natasha's choice, and how I handled the similar situation.
You can't change the past. I know that. A decision made can never be un-made. I accept that, and try to move forward. Most of the time I can do that. But it never disappears.
Natasha was enchanting. She glowed, which was probably in no small part the result of a last tryst before parting with the aforementioned 'boyfriend'. The state of her unavailability did not impact at all upon the whisper she lay upon my heart. I was touched, if only for a moment.
And I remember. And it stings, the wound that lays upon my soul, never to be healed. I remember what I had and how I didn't do the impetuous, romantic thing I was supposed to do. That I needed to do. The one thing that had to be done, even though we agreed it couldn't, or shouldn't be done.
All the talk that lead away from the passionate, romantic voyage, was really just the rising action towards it being done. But I was pragmatic and not romantic. And because of that I sit in seat 3F, the painful memories of a chance that was abandoned, burning my heart, like the spray of acid on an open sore. The urge to howl, swells in my throat. The wetness of tears forms on my eyes. But I won't. Again I swallow the misery that I must accept. I chose, and it was the wrong choice.
Its still there. Like one always remembers their name, I remember that love.
Be well, my love. I hope that time will eventually re-unite us. If faith does not have that in store for us then please, be happy and enjoy life. You are my shining star and the one with a room waiting for you in my soul.
Good night.
8:16 PM - Mountain Daylight Savings Time
Something happened today.
I'm sitting on an airplane right now. There is this agitated man sitting next to me. He keeps fidgeting. Not that I care really, but it would be irritating if my mind wasn't 1000 miles away.
Something happened today.
I'm sorry Melissa. I swear I didn't mean to ignore you. You deserve better than I behaved. You have my apology, and hopefully that will suffice until I can beg for forgiveness.
Something happened today.
I think about all that has happened to me. I find myself contemplating the series of events that have come before this moment. And if I judge it honestly, things are better than good. I have no cause for true dis-satisfaction.
Except for one thing . . .
Something happened today.
I wish I could stop thinking. For one hour, I wish I could sit in a moment and not have to listen to the demons and voices that haunt the great caverns in my mind. Giant spaces, that lust for stimulation and knowledge, to fill them. But as I attempt to insinuate worthwhile thoughts in these gaping chasms, I find myself deafened by thoughts of the failures of my past.
Why must I have these moments? Why can I not escape from the shrieking cacophony of wailing torments? I loathe this layer of despair that must coat my heart.
Something happened today.
What do you do when you reflect on a moment, a decision, a fork in the road where you chose the path that was paved, and well lit, as opposed to the one through the dark, uncharted, and frightening forest? How do you sleep in the night, when your eyes are wide open, and you realize that the safe, easy path you chose ended in a desolate wasteland, and not the comfortable garden you were hoping for?
I met a new friend today. Her name was Natasha. (Why did I choose the past tense? More pessimism?) It was a peculiar moment. It was not at all in context for me. A pretty, obviously younger (to a significant degree) girl sat down next to me in the Albequerque airport. And to my utter surprise, I spoke to her first.
And from there she launched in a conversation with me that did not abate until she boarded our mutual plane. We talked, we joked, we laughed, we had fun. Granted, the bulk of the exchange was her talking and me listening but it remained a shared moment.
When we disembarked in Phoenix I sought her out because I had enjoyed her company immensely and I hoped for more, should her next departure be some hours away. It was, and we shared lunch. I saw her to her gate and we discovered her plane was delayed. I got another couple hours of her company. I was elated.
The depth to which we explored amazes me still. She was smart, articulate, poised and knowledgeable, belie-ing her tender age of only 18. We talked of families, pasts, gifts and talents, points of personal liability, sex, politics, religion and faith, human behaviour. It was one of the most intoxicating verbal discourses I can ever remember having.
And it was over, gone too soon. An email address shared, she boarded her plane for Vancouver. A single serving friend? Only time will tell.
So why the allusion of misery? It made me remember the decision I made, that I regret. It is the one that haunts me in the dark night, when the room is black but the eyes are wide.
Natasha happened to be in New Mexico because she was defying the wishes of her parents (although they didn't sound that reasonable, even subtracting for teenage hyperbole) and going to a foreign country for the sake of love. She had made a wild, impetuous decision and run off to be with her 'boyfriend'. (long story to the quotation marks - please simply accept them with the dubiousness I am suggesting) The un-erasable smile, glow in her skin, and joy resonating in her voice proved to me that she was happy with the decision, despite the parental wrath that awaited her at home.
As my flight out of Phoenix was delayed 90 minutes, I had plenty of time (altogether too much, to be completely frank) to reflect on the parallel in Natasha's choice, and how I handled the similar situation.
You can't change the past. I know that. A decision made can never be un-made. I accept that, and try to move forward. Most of the time I can do that. But it never disappears.
Natasha was enchanting. She glowed, which was probably in no small part the result of a last tryst before parting with the aforementioned 'boyfriend'. The state of her unavailability did not impact at all upon the whisper she lay upon my heart. I was touched, if only for a moment.
And I remember. And it stings, the wound that lays upon my soul, never to be healed. I remember what I had and how I didn't do the impetuous, romantic thing I was supposed to do. That I needed to do. The one thing that had to be done, even though we agreed it couldn't, or shouldn't be done.
All the talk that lead away from the passionate, romantic voyage, was really just the rising action towards it being done. But I was pragmatic and not romantic. And because of that I sit in seat 3F, the painful memories of a chance that was abandoned, burning my heart, like the spray of acid on an open sore. The urge to howl, swells in my throat. The wetness of tears forms on my eyes. But I won't. Again I swallow the misery that I must accept. I chose, and it was the wrong choice.
Its still there. Like one always remembers their name, I remember that love.
Be well, my love. I hope that time will eventually re-unite us. If faith does not have that in store for us then please, be happy and enjoy life. You are my shining star and the one with a room waiting for you in my soul.
Good night.