So there's this little blurb on the blogger start page about relationships forming through blogs. Is this a revelation? True, the stuff I write scares people away, but is it really surprising that a medium in which people share a bit of themselves attracts like-minded souls on a deeper level? I don't think so...

Utne Reader has some articles on friendship this month. They talk about how important it is to exert the effort needed to maintain friendships, and how there are many fringe benefits to doing so. It seems like common sense, on the surface, but I know how easy it is to let people slip out of your life. And I would agree that it is worth it. I've been working on that a lot lately. Sort of as a result of a mini-crisis, but more simply because it is the right thing to do. It's a good thing.

Figures. Just a little over a week until my closing and the car is having problems. Fate always has little tricks up her sleeve to keep us guessing.

poems

Some favorite things: Oberweiss Chocolate-Peanut Butter ice cream, Djarum Black cloves, Kandinsky, Hogue Johannisberg Riesling, low and fluffy clouds, tea-light candles...

Who is my target audience? I've been asked that. Sometimes, specific people. Other times, whoever; I try to take what is happening in my life and apply it on a larger scale. Maybe I'm looking to validate my thoughts and experiences. Within the community of fellow bloggers, I don't see that as being too different from what most of us do. Maybe I should explain the purpose of each blog a little better. The CD5 blog, for instance; that's more than just what's playing in my CD player on any given day, it's also a way to put the names of bands that don't get much or any radio airplay out there. The Amp Comics blog is a service to my buddy Jim to keep people updated on what's going on with his comic book. And the Techblog is essentially my public service/workplace outlet, since it applies to what I do for a living. As for Vortex, though...the purpose changes often. It's a mood ring, after a fashion. Random some days, a continuous dialogue other days. It's a sliver of my brain that I carve out and leave on display. In that sense, it is a collection of true statements; reflecting, venting, rationalizing...trying to make some sense of the world. Sometimes, it's too much information, or in a form that few would understand. While that may make it less valuable to others, it doesn't to me. So I'll never make it on the list of the blog of the day, because stuff I throw out there is too obscure. So what. If I want to provide a public service, I'll do it through actions, not words in an on-line diary/rant.

Annoyed by rash of thefts at my school. Stuff like that just makes me want to pummel someone. Aside from the fact that it makes more work for me. (I know, i'm whining a little).

Perfection, where are you? Are you in the 100th digit of Pi? Are you in blades of grass? Are you in a long-lost sonnet? Are you in an untapped portion of the mind?

Hello, little birds walking on the rooftop outside my window.

What an autumn-like day. Wish I had time to go sit by the lake and read obscure poetry. Yeah, I would have been a beatnik in a different life. To do that these days is little more than a fashion statement. The world needs the Kerouacs as much as it needs the Einsteins.

This weekend is just packed. Comic book fans in the Chicago area: Find my friend Jim's booth at Wizard World; he produces Shades of Blue.

"I can hear you singing to me in my sleep." (Semisonic). So the meeting mentioned below went okay. Not spectacular, not awful, somewhere in between. Pretty much as expected, really. Which I suppose is a sort of success. Do I think this is the one for her? I don't know. In this moment in time...yeah, perhaps. A year from now? I don't know...I don't know whether this new guy is everything that my ex needs to be fulfilled. That's not jealousy talking, either; I know where I fell short, meaning I have a sense for what she is looking for. I could be wrong; time may bear me out; we'll see.

Get to meet my ex's new boyfriend tonite. That will be interesting. Not that I've never met the new boyfriend of an ex before; comes with the territory of staying friends with exes, right? But I've stayed so close to this woman, more than anyone else, so that makes it a little weird. Ah, well. I'm assuming that nobody will die. Actually, from what I know so far, we might have enough in common (me and the new guy) to be pals. And wouldn't that just take the cake.

So if I try to do things to make other people happy, and am denied the chance, it makes me a little sad. Is that normal? Why can't I stay neutral about it? I must be putting too much into it. Too much of my own state of mind into how others feel. Is that selfish? Can it be both good and bad at the same time? Good in the sense of wanting to do such things in the first place, and bad in the effect it has on me when denied the opportunity? Have to work on counteracting that. Not sure how, though.

The sky is an eerie mix of cloudbanks and sunlight this morning. Listening to the Cure right now, waiting for my turn in the shower. I wonder what oddities today will bring?

Feelin' kinda down; want to lift up the world with one hand and my heart with the other, see which is heavier. Meanwhile, so much on my shoulders right now I am stooped over, yet I am straining to stand up straight, and leap into the ether, and never come back down again.

What has loneliness taught me? That I need my friends now more than ever before. That I need them to confirm that I am alive. That I can set my mind to something and do it. That there are reasons to make yourself a better person every single day, because someone will notice. That nobody has the entire world within themselves. That there are spots on my back I'll never be able to scratch at properly, unless perhaps I take up yoga.

Okay, quick, I need a number--how many times has Mr. Rogers changed his shoes on television?

Life-the ultimate role playing game. I never really got into those fantasy world rpg's. Sort of hung around the fringes now and then; almost afraid to get caught up in it. I recall playing Zork for days on my old Commodore 64. That game made you think, and threw in some puns and absurdity as well. Is that nostalgia, or merely an on-going sense of awe at how creative people could be when given a limited set of tools to work with when designing a game? Sometimes I think having too much potential, too many options, stifles creativity somewhat. It is when we must face a situation with inherent limitations that we are able to pull out the most creative of solutions.

In the attic, boxes full of memories, trinkets of my state of mind, old letters, toys, even rocks. Keys whose purpose I cannot remember, a plastic thermometer in the shape of a fish skeleton, a dried out cactus branch. One day I'll take an inventory and write a little story about each object; it could probably take up an entire book. Hmmm. That might actually be an interesting idea for a short story collection. It's probably been done. Wish I had more time to read. At least I'm making a little time to write, for what that is worth. And do people realize just how tenuous reality is?

Only a week back to work and already I need a mental health day.

And then the rains came...washing away some of the heat, giving some relief to the plants and the grass. What an odd summer it has been. Sometimes I wonder if I'm still who I think I am.

"Sometimes I hear my voice and it's been here / silent all these years" (Tori). Digging around for distractions in life, like I don't have enough; not true. Am I overcommitted? Then why do I want more commitments? Or do I need to be committed? Ah, only make as many promises as you can keep. No matter how full your heart is, how strong you think you are, there is a breaking point. So how can I feel, simultaneously, that I've reached that point yet have so much more to give? Emotion is a strange animal. No, more to the point, love is.

Seems like all my friends are getting married and buying property. Of course, since I'm perpetually behind the curve on these things, I'm just buying property. I don't know; mostly I feel a step behind the world, though occasionally it seems like I'm ahead of the game and frustrated that nobody is catching up to me. I wonder if that's a sign of getting older?

If you are ever in Chicago, and want some good Cuban-style food, try out a place called Cafe 28 in Lakeview. It has yummy appetizers, consistently well-prepared main dishes, and a wide choice of wines to go with your meal. I took a friend with eclectic tastes there; he just moved into town. It gets packed on the weekends, but on weeknights it is not too long a wait for a table.

One of the news shows was just running this story about memory, and how traumatic events can wipe out other memories. There's a common sense aspect to that; little wonder that stress shapes the mind around the event and tramples over things in the process.

Why remain friends with your exes? Isn't it easier just to forget them and move on? Maybe for some people it is. It isn't for me, though. Still, sometimes there isn't a choice. And I allow myself to forget, while working to hold on to a few things, like some sort of neural scrapbook. A girl I knew freshman year of college, and the smell of her hair. Ah, but don't get me started. I guess my point is that people try to forget, perhaps, because the stress associated with a break-up goes some way toward canceling out the neutral or even happy memories, and forgetting just seems best. I find that trying to forget the bad parts is more difficult than working to remember the good parts. Maybe that's just me.

Resolution 932: Be happier.

Summer is officially over. Back to work.

Time to readjust the sleep schedule, and crawl back into the morass that is the under-funded, under-staffed public school system in which I work. When tech support needs a day off, who comes in to sub?

Why is the American education system such a mess? Because it is a public entity governed by economic rules that don't make any sense. And because parents are failing to raise their children, and are leaving the bulk of that job to the teachers.

Alright, I'm on my soapbox. Nothing new here; just ranting a little. Have a nice day.

All my exes live in...well, not Texas, that's for sure. Helped one ex and her husband (a good friend, as well), unpack a bit in their new house yesterday. Moving is such a pain in the ass. I'll be doing that soon. Maybe I'll cryptically label all of my boxes: kitchen utensils? No, prosecutor's exhibit #3. Cd's? How about digitally enhanced plastic. And books can be labelled dead trees and ink. And so forth. Hey, anything to put a little humour into an otherwise straining (literally and figuratively) event.

The Princess Bride is still an awesome movie.

What do you say when you know someone is not telling you the whole truth for the sake of protecting your feelings? Are you wrong for pointing it out? Are they wrong for doing it in the first place? If you know someone so well that you can see through what they are saying, then why dance around the truth? (Wilco: "You've changed, oh you've changed / Maybe all I need is a shot in the arm / Something in my veins, bloodier than blood / The ashtray says, you were up all night" ... "What you once were isn't what you want to be anymore") If it keeps happening, is there a way out? Can things change so quickly, that you just have to admit that even half-truths told with the best of intentions are still half-lies, and that there is no room for someone in another person's life who compels them toward fallacy? And I've done it, and I don't like being on the other end of it. And that's a hard lesson, but I understand now, and I see hard choices ahead.

Saw Scarlet Life at the Museum of Contemporary Art last night. Excellent band, Chicago-based, driven by the multi-faceted Preston Klik who never fails to surround himself with the kind of talent that drives a person to new heights. The atmosphere for the show was provided by the monthly First Fridays singles night at the museum. I didn't really partake of that aspect, since that wasn't what I was there for; still, it draws quite an eclectic crowd.

Someone explain why I can break some habits and not others? Why I can stop and start pretty much at will when it comes to a highly addictive substance like nicotine, but the habits I build around other people are so difficult to modify? There must be some psycho-logical reason, though I suspect that logic has little to do with it.

Went to the Radiohead show in Grant Park last night. Huge crowd, nice evening; the mugginess in the air swept away by a fairly consistent breeze off the lake. Radiohead played for about two hours, performing several encores and finishing up with "Street Spirit (Fade Out)". Of course. :)