Indecisive Peach

A year ago today, I wrote my first little post on WordPress about the joys of Coke Zero. Beyond discovering an addiction, where was I then?

I was mourning my idiocy of losing a love.
I had just started grad school and realizing the absurdity of the situation I had found myself in.
I was watching my Dad die. That I didn’t blog about.

The night my Dad died, and after I saw him in the funeral home, I sat bathed in a grip of apathetic listlessness that surfaces at the onset of my heavier mental instabilities. I sat under the bright lights of the living room in a recliner moved to the exact place where his bed stood just that morning. I saw his wallet sitting on the table that sat next to his bed and grabbed it, slowly pulling things out of it.

It was a cold reality that he could no longer stop me.

I thumbed through various cards and old photographs of me. From a flap, I pulled out a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it and read the URL to my very first blog that I started when I was 16.

Now, I’m here and I write for something intangible as that. I write to my friends, to my enemies, to my family, to myself… and I think that somehow, most importantly, I’m writing for some unknown purpose that only later will manifest itself. I do not concentrate on that outcome. In theory, I should not only be living to blog, but I should live as I blog.

This saga starts simply like most of my adventures do – take an idea, take too little research, take a pinch of foolhardiness, and shake. I decided that I wanted to get new handlebars on my bike. This sounds simple, yes? Why did I want them? For an easier reach? Yes, I thought, that would be nice.

(Research now tells me that it doesn’t quite matter since you’re supposed to be partially posting on a bike and not the relaxed aristocratic sitting-back-and-waving sort of position. Well then.)

[Not… that I wave...]

Read the rest of this entry »

Pre-roll:

Post-roll:

A conversation via IM prodding me to ask out someone for coffee:

Me: I don’t even have any idea how that works logistically.
E: Let’s see….
E: “Would you like join me for some coffee later?”
E: Possible answers: “Sure, when?” “No, because of this reason.” “I’m sorry, I’m a zombie.”
E: Only one involves losing your brain, and I think it’s exceedingly unlikely in these parts of the world.

My family has always tended to anthropomorphize – that is, give human names and characteristics to – our cars. I’ve been heavily influenced by this practice and tend to ask people, when first climbing into their car, if they’ve taken the time to name theirs.

Our family formula consisted of using the first letter of the brand of car to figure out the first name. So the new members of the family had names like Neil the Nissan and Dick the Dodge and Charlotte the Chevrolet. With the family obsession in the Volvo brand, we’ve figured out that there are only so many first names that start with a V.

Read the rest of this entry »