working from home

it's always like this
working from home, making zilch
no motivation



Here I am, blogging again, about how I shouldn't be. I guilt myself into it every time, and by the time I'm done, another load of laundry has been left unfolded, and another cup of coffee has been downed. If I'm serious about this blog, I'm just going to end up a wrinkly spaz. That should work--nothing short of unordinary.

But I'm ready for a new adventure. No, that doesn't include going to two weddings in one weekend. No, that doesn't mean balancing my checkbook. No, that doesn't mean waxing my car.

It means I'm ready to drive. Somewhere. Anywhere. I've never taken a full-blown road-trip, and I'm beginning to be concerned that the chance never will come around.

Vacation = family vacation. Every single time. How handy that I can work for my parents without them having to worry whether I'll have a job this summer, or whether I can get time off to go with them different places they've chosen to go.

Granted, I still love our annual beach vacation. But every other time I've taken off, it's been for family. Weddings are necessary. Yes. But family reunions are not. Fun. But not necessary.

I'm starting to feel that a road trip is necessary. Something along the lines of spending time with the road.

Maybe I should read about it. I do have every night off.
Who has a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance that I can borrow?
I've already read On The Road. Thank God I don't know any Dean Moriartys.

stresses

syllabic stresses

sometimes give me solutions--

un-stress-related

You can say so much with stresses:

"I didn't eat that burger."
This implies that someone else ate that burger. You may also coyly be saying that you know who did.

"I didn't eat that burger."

This is mere defense, saying that you're not lying about what you've just stated; this type of stressed sentence might follow an accusation like "You ate that burger, you jerk."

"I didn't eat that burger."

This implies that you did something else to the burger, like disposed of it, or put it in a blender and drank it instead.

"I didn't eat that burger."

This stress implies that you ate another burger altogether, perhaps one in the past, perhaps a burger belonging to someone beside the accuser.

"I didn't eat that burger."

This is my favourite--which implies that you did indeed eat something, but it wasn't the missing bit of bovine. It could have been the fries surronding aforementioned burger that you consumed while your friend was using the bathroom.

I have missed In-N-Out and I think it's about time I stepped up to the plate (or plastic tray in this case) and ordered a double-double. I shudder to think that some have gone so far as a fifteen-by-fifteen.

Out-of-towners, this means...a hunk of bovine: 15 patties, 15 slices of cheese.

Nowadays, I hear to ensure the truth of their mantra, "Quality You Can Taste", they only serve double-doubles, 3 x 3, and 4 x 4's.

My mouth is watering as we speak for a tasty double-double cheeseburger and a neopolitan shake.

Not a man. Not a myth. Not a legend. Just a 20 x 20.

friends everywhere

friends are everywhere
and if I play my cards right
I'll visit them all.




I am thinking of attempting to make friends with someone in every state.
For starters, that is. And then I can visit them all when I go on the road trip of the century (that will probably never happen...) and I will see a familiar (kind of) face every few 100 miles.

I have a long way to go.

I've got California covered, but since it's basically 3 states, I'll have to find more friends up north.
Portland, Oregon.
Seattle, Washington.
Reno, Nevada.
Chandler, Arizona....wait, does my best friend when I was two count? Probably not. Scratch that.

Sioux Center, Iowa.
Chicago, Illinois.
Platte, South Dakota.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

I suppose I have a long way to go before I'm ready to go cross-country.
My new plan could be revised to something like this:

Make friends everywhere you go, and every time you arrive somewhere, you'll be welcomed as if you're coming home. As long as you don't stay for two weeks straight..

surprise

it doesn't make sense
trying to figure it out
this life, this strange life.


I think sometimes it would be nice to know. Nice to be able to say,
"In five years, I will live in ______ and be married to ______ with __ kids. They will be named after ______, ______, and ______. I will drive a ______."

All those days of playing MASH on the schoolbus in junior high didn't give me any solid answers either.
M - Mansion
A - Apartment
S - Shack
H - House

Not that where I live is at the top of the list.

Tired of trying to predict.
I'd just like to know.

But life just isn't that way.
And God is a mysterious God.
He likes us to enjoy the surprises that we have left.

SURPRISE!

eating

rode a few lawnchairs;
slept in a tent whenever
weather permitted.


We returned from camping. Some were in tents. Some were not as in tents as others.

All I have to say is that my running that one mile is going to be a lot harder to do tomorrow morning. I made hummus for the trip, but only the people with dead taste-buds seemed to like it. Maybe fewer cloves of garlic next time. But camp food is so easily made unhealthy with the help of a few trailers. Luxurious things like microwaves. ovens. heaters.

So, I slept in a tent when I could. It rained and hailed the first day we were there, but this didn't dampen the rest of our trip. It was kind of dangerous to run from trailer to trailer while the hail was falling, but I felt like taking chances that day. I didn't sleep in the tent that night. My danger quota was filled with hail for the day.

The next day's danger quota was filled with diabetes risk.
And the following days were filled with the same.

I swear, Dutch people and descendents must be made of sugar. That's probably why we were so afraid of running in between the trailers when it was pouring rain.

"Oops! There goes Tante Joan! She shouldn't have eaten that last snickerdoodle. Now she's just a sticky mess."

I am still whole. But less in tents than before.