Sunday, August 16, 2009

Once Again. . .

Ah, to return once again to the void that is cyber space. To think that the only thing affected (or is it effected? I've never been good with vowels. I much prefer consonants-much more strong and defined) might well be some grand storage unit that will blink for once second to recognize the fact that new little zeros and ones have been stored in such a manner that they may be translated into something as silly and potentially odd as this blog, it makes me giggle. Or maybe the truth is simply that I enjoy laughing at myself, and my own unique, ethnic manner of saying things. I was told that there will be a new term, "Davidic," meaning in the manner of David. The only problem I see with that is that it may well be thought to be in reference to the biblic Davidic, which could lead to some misunderstandings. Especially because people seem to remember David most for his first public triumph and for his only recorded indiscretion. Indiscretion, ha. We've got too many nice words for when people make a BIG mistake.

Well, considering that I went from saying that it's nice to be blogging today, and to remember that I really do enjoy writing in a very loose manner (meaning that my writing is often unfocused. See prior paragraph for an example) to talking about David of old, let me just come full circle and say, it's nice to be back.

I have A Red Headed Friend With the Last Name of a Material (ARHFWLNM-in case I make reference again. Hey, that almost rhymed!) for my abrupt return to the realms of the unseen and unheard, to where my voice is as a whisper coming out of the screen. Spooky. Someone should make a movie. Or maybe they already did. . . anyway, thanks ARHFWLNM for suggesting it, I'm afraid that my long absence from the writing scene has made it rather difficult to come up with a plot, and I needed to get back to writing as soon as possible, so as to return to at least some semblance of good writing. I don't think it will happen here in any great way.

I have a confession to make. Two, actually. The first one, which does not fill me with shame, or even a hint of regret, though perhaps a little trepidation, is that Major Bubbles (that's me, just to remind myself) has finally chosen a major to pursue. It's an interesting thing, deciding. I've always thought of it as a limiting of the prospects, as somehow making my future less expansive, as if by deciding to pursue something, I would immediately have less potential. Hence, in the major decisions of my life (and often the smaller ones, as many of my friends will attest) I am reluctant to make any sort of real decision. "Let's wait and see how it plays out" I say, hoping that the best the way, the way with the most potential will burst upon me one day, like the sun, creeping over the horizon, filling me with the zeal of a new day, with fresh opportunity and a newness of life. I don't think it works like that. It's more like the sun is already up, and I'm in a shaded place, and once I take a step, maybe two, I burst into a marvelous light that was just waiting for me to step into it and suck it up. And then get burned. Okay, not really, maybe just gloriously golden. Oooo- alliteration- me likey. Anyway, I've realised that the making of a decision is what actually opens up the path for you. Eventually you come to a place that's not just a crossroads, it's an open plaza with an infinite amount of choices. If I use another analogy in this paragraph, you have my permission to shoot me. Cybernetically, that is. Really, though, the decision opens up opportunities. Unless it's a bad decision. Those have the tendency of taking away the options. As soon as I decided to pursue physics, a plethora of new choices to be made sprung upon me, and I felt a little like the little kid in a toy store where you can touch everything and not get in trouble. If you ever find that store, let me know, I'd like to spend a few hours there.

My other confession is that I watched a proclaimed chick flick, and I liked it. Yes, readers, I watched "You've Got Mail." Shameless. It even calls it one of the best romantic comedies ever. Yes, a most definite chick flick. Actually, I've seen commercials about how manly men (that term seems somewhat redundant, doesn't it?) haven't watched that particular show. Seriously. It was a car commercial. Anyway, it was a shamelessly chick flicky movie, and I, yes I, well, I loved it. I've been sick for the past while, and the truth is that I was laughing so hard I had to pause the movie various times so that I could finish coughing, get a drink, grab another cough drop, and settle back in (I have a wonderful movie watching couch that feels kind of like it's hugging you all the time. Marvelous). Maybe I should apologize to all the manly men out there (wouldn't womanly men be an oxymoron? What other phrases could you use? Boyly man? Girly man? (okay, I've heard that one) non-genderly specific man? Maybe I should rethink my phraseology), but I don't think I will. Mostly because watching the silly movie made me happy, and I definately needed that in the middle of my sickness.

So, get out and make those decisions, and watch those ethnically inappropriate shows. I'll be sitting here on my non-genderly specific blog site (figuratively, of course), enjoying the blogs I have already written.