Indecisive Peach

A tenet of procrastination is distraction. This summer has been chalk full of items that would overwhelm and befuddle the common grad student. With attempts to read classic literature such as Atlas Shrugged (Great book!) and On the Road (What, I can’t seem to get into this book? No – impossible.), I also have a stack of programs and literature on the learning on Chinese, and a headlong engagement to ride actual, Honest-To-God horses. (Are there any other?)

Sure, I have a conference in less than three months that I have not prepared for at all – does that bother me at all? No… Why? Distraction.

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A lackluster couple of days later, I come back to tend to my blog. As I think about this phrase, I think about how that is a both accurate and inaccurate way of addressing a blog.

On the accurate side, you can think that every time you sit down in front of the screen, you hold in your muddy hands a plant. Sometimes it’s a weed that you bring, sometimes a wilted flower that, when stretching its roots in the virtual soil, straightens and exhales a perfume of relief and wonder.

You wonder about your weeds. You wonder sometimes why you plant them, why you’d like to see them bloom. There is a wonderment in sitting among your flowers, then breaking the stem of a dandelion, and making a wish as its seed drift away from your flow of air. You wonder if the weeds sometimes mean more to you than the flowers, if they actually help you more than the flowers, and if they perhaps do less harm.

With the inaccuracies… well, I suppose whittling everything in life down to imagery can’t be the most helpful can it?

Isn’t this purdy?

Oh this isn’t relevant to fishing you say?

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As you read this, I’ll be out arguing with an inanimate object, namely my fishing rod. I’ve decided to take this July 4th to go to the mountains, steal my Dad’s portable fishing rod, buy some icky bait and go fishing.

I have me mah license and everythin’. It’s terribly exciting.

“I have a license to fish! Dude! …But that’s not terribly ‘Bond’ is it?”
“Well…it sorta is a license to kill.”
“Oh, huh…Yeah! Heck yeah!”

Okay I’m being a bit lazy. Actually, I’ve been wanting to post this first one for a while and doing so today gives me time to type my other post for today (Two, TWO posts – AH AH AH).

From Dresden Codak, “Rule 110″:
So this sums up perfectly how I interact with men, in my mind and in reality, even including the airship. This girl even has my hair.

From Russell’s Teapot:
This one is for the more heathen and people less likely to be offended in my audience (not always one and the the same) but you know what, even if it offends you, it’s still damn funny.

As I sat next to my Dad, a few minutes before he was going to be wheeled away, he reflected on the double chocolate cake I made earlier in the week and then went on to talk about the different sorts of German cake that he had eaten: my Oma’s Buttercreme Torte and Bienstich, a small cake covered with almond and butter glaze. He groaned remembering the taste of them when they warm.

“If I only had one food to eat for the rest of my life,” he said, “…I think it would be cake.” His eyes widened, even though they had sunk deeply into their cavities, and his voice grew a slight bit louder, “Do you know how many varieties of cake there are?”

Do I ever.