Ahhhhh, decadence: dread friend, dear foe.

There's something sinfully delicious about blogging while sitting on your porch. It's especially sweet when you have a fabulous puppy at your feet. The bugs aren't too bad yet. The light from the lappy doesn't seem to be attracting as many as I feared.

I'm currently searching for templates for rental receipts. In my new position of LAND LORD: Lord of the Basement Apartment, I must have these sorts of things at hand. Not having tremendous luck yet.

So, we got a satellite so my darling wife can watch EVERY FIFA game this year. Do NOT attempt to make contact with her during this period. Interruption of FIFA is a bootable offense.

What is it about blogging that can be so addictive? For me, I think part of it is the chance to practice my typing. Still not very quick with it. Of course, venting my spleen is also a nice change of pace. Can't keep those feelings bottled up. You gotta LET 'EM OUT, like Mr. Sheepman does every night on a pillow shaped like his father...

Is it just me, or is Cadbury's Dairy Milk, just about the pinnacle of off the shelf chocolate bars? I'm talking chocolate, not 'candy' bars. Simple, elegant chocky. Yeah, it's probably just me.

DUDE! have you seen this show called ICONS? It's a history show all about videogames! I caught about 3 minutes of it the one day, it was the history of Donkey Kong. How seriously unreal is that? I'm so excited. I gotta find out when it's on. I may have to hook up the old VCR again.

*shudder* VHS...

I have the cutest Puppy! I'm ridiculously in love with him. I am so proud of my Buster. Tonight, we walked over to meet one of the neighbour's dogs. I think it's a mutt, but a big, old mutt. Very quiet and reserved. But he seemed very happy to see Buster. Cautiously inviting him to come near the fence, Buster finally mustered enough courage to go up and they sniffed each other's nose for a bit. Then the freaking Jack Russell came whipping over and scared Buster away. Then he tried to scare me away, but I held my ground and gave him a 'Give me a fucking excuse, dog." look and bared my teeth with a low growl and he shut the hell up, and left Buster alone.

Fucking right. Don't FUCK with my puppy.

I think Jack Russells are cats in disguise. Man, I hate them.

So hopefully, I can arrange some time for Buster to play with the big dog, without the Jack being around.

Heee heee! My next door neighbour has a yappy dog. He barks at everything, except my dad. Dad has pretty good bark of his own, which shuts old Maxi up.

Well today, Maxi was doing his whole 'I'm a yappy dog' routine, which, the first time Buster heard it, (the second night we had him) he took off like a rocket in the opposite direction. Pretty much since then, Buster's been pretty cool about the whole thing, we walk to the back yard, Maxi starts his routine and Buster pays no attention to him at all, except I think to taunt him a bit. You know, getting real close to the fence and pretending not to notice Maxi? Sneaky buggar, no wonder I love him. So, today Maxi started his 'I'm a loud dog, completely safe from retribution, I will bark at whomever I please' bit, and well, I don't know what was said, whether Maxi defamed Buster, or his mom or peanut butter or whatever, but Buster decided he'd had enough, and stepped up to the plate. BARK BARK BARK! and Maxi, shut the hell up and ran to the far side of the yard, as far away as she could get from Buster. He tried a couple more barks from there, but cut it out when Buster stood up and pawed the fence.

Maxi's been real quiet ever since.

Good boy, Buster. Here's a treat.

B. Fixxitt

Sidebar

So, can anyone tell me why in the second and third matrix movies our heroes have essentially abandoned fire-arms for ancient weapons?

 

What possible impetus could they have for doing so? When you're fighting agents, you stay as far away as possible, you don't use close range weapons where one false move can spell death. I mean, did Morpheus suddenly get an upgrade on his abilities? Did Neo somehow manage to share his abilities with the rest of the crew? To quote Joe Schmoe,   "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

 

Buster

Baby steps feel like Freefall.

Just a poetic way of saying this small thing feels huge and terrifying. I can't see my friend anymore. It's my decision, if not my choice. I never realized that a choice and a decision were two different things. Everyone makes choices, mostly unconsciously - choices are easy. They don't have huge repercussions. Choices are made by the Child in everyone, Decisions are made by the Adult. Decisions are good, but they're not easy. Decisions are not, cannot be made lightly.

CEO's who make millions of dollars a year make Decisions. They may only make 1 a year, but they EARN that money. They have to make a decision that will affect Billions of dollars, and thousands of lives. And they are held responsible for the consequences. That's what a decision is, it may be contrary to your wishes, you don't want to make the decision, but you have to.

It's Deanna ordering Geordi to fix the leaking reactor, knowing it will kill him. It's Churchill letting Coventry be bombed so the German's won't know their codes have been broken. Decisions can haunt you the rest of your life.

I have made a decision. Possibly the hardest I've ever had to make. I have weighed all options dispassionately and come to a conclusion. And I do NOT like it at all. It makes me feel like a failure, a coward, weak and stupid and cruel and worse.

I have to walk away.

I'm ending a friendship when a friend needs me most. Were I a believer- Lord have Mercy on my soul.

I'm more sorry than words can express. I'll miss you, Amy.
I wish you all the... well, everything really. I'm sorry.

Charles

I've got a bad feeling about this...

Hh.

Wow, I just read a lot of stuff. Blogs of friends of mine. Weird, weird shit going down, and no idea what to do about it. On the one hand, I could just throw in the towel, wave goodbye and walk away. Half the blogs I read were pushing for that.

Or I could stay. Maintain the oddly complex friendship, which while difficult, would be very worthwhile, I have no doubt.

I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt anybody, but will it be more damaging to stay for a while and then go, or to just cut and run now? Wow, that's a much more interesting term in this context- morbidly humorous.

I know I 'should' leave, there are forces moving me in that direction. I find myself very reluctant though. I wonder if this is my rescuer complex? If so, it's quite insidious. See, it comes down to this. I want to prove that life is good, that it's not all about any one person. I want to prove that there ARE people out there who can be counted on, because that is true. And I want to give people's head a shake when they can't see anything beyond 'me, me, me'. It's totally unrealistic to think everything is about you. I know very few people actually CONSCIOUSLY think everything is about them, they're not sitting there saying, "I've got more fries than they did, the waiter must think I'm a pig!" or "I got less fries than they did, the waiter hates me, the cook thinks I need to go on a diet, everyone is gonna notice and laugh at me up their sleeves, they're all out to get me!" things like that. Actually, I know there are those who think that. Paranoia, I think it's called.

Hh. I seem to be getting off track here. Not that there IS a track. Have you ever noticed that sometimes you learn something about someone and it becomes a defining feature of them for you? Like, they like anal or something. Maybe it's just me, but that sort of thing happens to me. I don't like it, I have to fight it.

And I don't think that's the case here. Here's a very important link. I think it's important, at least.

Quite informative, if you scroll down and read it through. Go ahead, check it out. I'll wait.

_______________________________________________
Anything sound familiar? Now, I'm not trying to say THIS IS WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!
We all know I'm not qualified to diagnose a damn thing, other than a graphics issue. I do NOT want to be beating you over the head with this shit. I DO think there is a strong possibility that the treatments used for this could be helpful to you.

I think it comes down to your perception. You do seem to think everything is about you. And boundaries seem to be extremely difficult for you, like they are totally unfair or something.

I think it comes down to me. I care for you. I think you are a really good person. It hurts to see you hurting. I can handle that. I'm not opting out - even though I see this 'coupon' as being manipulative, and potential emotional blackmail, which I honestly don't think was your conscious or at least primary intent... There's no question that this is a test. Denial be damned, the truth is this IS a test. Opting out means total exclusion. I think that's stupid. I'd prefer to be like K on this. If that isn't possible, if that's too painful, then you can opt out - no recriminations, no blame, you do what's best for you.

To be honest, REALLY honest, No sugar coating, no nothing kind of honest. I'm pissed off at this. I know you feel like you always have to be someone other than who you are - that's YOU feeling that. That's YOU telling yourself that. No basis in fact. I know, I've been there. I'm STILL there. Thinking low of myself, thinking that everyone else thinks I'm a fucking moron. Thinking my boss' every sigh or aggravation is somehow my fault - it's all bullshit. It's not all about me. The world does not centre on me. NOTHING centres on me. I die tomorrow, the world continues, maybe twelve people mourn. The wake could be catered with a pack of timbits.
Who FUCKING cares? What my boss thinks of me does not change a damn thing about what I had for breakfast. What I think my boss is thinking is still ME thinking it. It's ME judging me, not HIM. If I want to know what someone thinks of me, I should just fucking ask them. D'you see that?

Everytime you think someone else is thinking something about you, they're NOT. It's YOU doing the thinking, it's YOU judging yourself, it's YOU projecting your own self-love or self-hatred or whatever onto them. YOU. not them. They're trying to remember that funny thing that Leno said last night so they can talk about it at work and not look stupid. Good fucking luck buddy, Leno ain't said anything funny, EVER.

See, this is me being honest and passionate. Passion is caring. I don't want to see you making the same mistakes I have. It's your life though, not MINE. You can't live it for anyone else, and they can't live it for you. Them's the breaks. Shit's tough all over the place.

Go check out Homewood. I hear good things about it. I'll blog again later. I gotta get to sleep.

Oh, and who gives a fuck who reads your blog? If they can't handle it, don't fucking read it. Self-censorship in blog-therapy is Bullshit. Hell, make another blog somewhere else and don't tell anybody how to get to it, if you have to. Just write! You don't need to take responsibility for others feelings.

Right. Going to bed. I'll blog again on this subject. I hope you do too.

Buster