The Wall

When I was little I use to watch adults a lot. I didn't hang out with too many kids. One thing the adults would do from time to time that I found sophisticated and mysterious was occasionally, you could catch one just staring at the wall. I could never figure out what was so interesting about a wall. I would try to just sit and stare and be grown up but got bored much to quickly. It took a lot to keep my attention.

Now as an adult, I know what staring at the wall means. It isn't terribly exciting. It means that your brain is done for now. It means that you are at capacity. It means that you have a dad that is disappearing from Alzheimer's, a kid with boobs, a laid off brother in law, IRS issues, problems with an ex, too much work. None of it is exciting in a good way. None of it is mysterious.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

He died this week. He was a key person in the formation of what jumbled ideas I have that constitute my value system. I read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch when I was in my early teens. What a mind exploding book. I had finished the Catcher in the Rye which was amazing but I always felt that Holden was a bit of a whiner. Now this guy Ivan comes along and lays out some serious brain butter. Ivan taught me that reality has next to no bearing on happiness. I have stood by this idea for the majority of my life.

A Ten Year Old's Search For Knowledge

I can be a sneaky snake and yesterday I checked what my 10 year old has been asking on ask.com. It was HILARIOUS. Way more super fun than I expected. Here are the top 5 questions asked in my opinion:

How do you make a fart?
Why do we have boogers?
What is the meaning of life?
How do you make lemonade?
Why are sisters so annoying?

Beautiful!

My Soccer Stars

I am so proud of my beautiful babies. These are some of my favorite action shots as of late. Sean does take a great picture.

The Book of Job

I have always had a soft fascination with the Book of Job. I think of it at odd times. Tonight when I locked my kids out of my room to take a shower and stop cussing inside my head for a few minutes there was good ole Job, there to pester me.
I have always been incredibly uncomfortable talking about my faith. I come from a strong strain of adamant agnostics and always the misfit chose a different path...but here goes...

Sometimes when I pity myself and feel like no one in the world has had as difficult a life as mine in the history of all the eons I will read the whole Book of Job to bring myself down a notch. I find it very comforting to gain perspective because lets be honest, he was a great guy, his life blew, and he still maintained his faith and an inner peace I can only dream of. It helps me get over myself a bit and realize that I in fact have a lot of fight left in me.

Now, on other days, thinking days as I call them, this book puzzles me beyond measure. I am not one of those people that take the bible literally all the time, but still. Damn... If God is in fact our father than wasn't he kind of a dick? All of that misery for a bet with the devil? If I made a bet that was essentially "Hey! I bet you didn't think I could do this to my kid didja??!!?!" my kid would be taken away. In fact, you could say that while betting with the Devil (which I have been intimately acquainted with at times) you should probably leave your kids out of it all together. I mean, if I am not comfortable betting with their college money in Vegas it is safe to assume that betting on their will and faith in me is a pretty shite idea all around.

I guess in the end I think that maybe the Book of Job was just a huge allegory. Even taking it at that it seems a bit prickish.

Alzheimer's Sucks Balls

That is it.

Ridiculous Life

I don't feel like I live a ridiculous life. I DO feel like much of my time is spent on ridiculous things and ridiculous conversations. I am sure a lot of this has to do with me being in sales and having school age children.

When I have a conversation I look at the people I am talking to and try to see if they share this feeling of ridiculousness. 99% of the time I can tell they in fact do not think things are ridiculous.

I think I know why. I think that people that have violence in their past - especially multiple instances of violence with multiple people or situations - ultimately come two a fork in the road. They have the choice to either be an eternal victim or eventually learn to say "damn that sucked" and adapt.

I am very adaptive...pliable you could say. I think to be this way I have had to forgo the art of bullshit. I have noticed that as time goes on I have almost a hostility to people that use too many adjectives. They often seem to be a way to delay or avoid a point. For instance I wouldn't walk to smell the lavender fields and feel the soft spring breeze against my face. I would walk to get to the damn store. (I still like "damn" alot.)

It makes me sad at times that I've lost some of these traits. But most days I am ok with it.