Today, my heart is sad. I’m sitting here listening to Built to Spill’s classic Ancient Melodies of the Future, and feeling pitiful. No particular reason (a lie, to be sure), but still I do. Maybe it’s because I came home from work (well, the bar post-work, to be sure) and Sharaun and Keaton weren’t here. No, not it. Maybe it’s because I feel like I haven’t had a decent amount of quality time with Keaton lately, like her mom gets to spend so much time watching her change every day and like I’m missing something, missing her growing. No, that’s not it either. Whatever it is (I know what it is), it sucks. I’m just not much for talking tonight, was tight-lipped (for the most part) at the bar with my cronies, and now I’m here spilling words into this text box on a webpage… it’s a function of my being. One day though, things could change (you never know when). Ahhh… how splendidly juvenile. Let’s on with it then.
I keep having this recurring dream: I’m in someone’s house, I don’t know the person and it’s clear to me that I’m there without their knowledge, i.e. I’ve broken in. No one’s home, and I’m busy stealing foodstuffs and essentials. I’m scruffy and unkempt, and the clothes I’m wearing are dirty and worn. It’s at this point I realize I’m ravenously hungry, and furthermore that I’m here because I’m desparate. I’ve been hiding out somewhere; outside, by the looks of me, and I’m here breaking and entering on an urgent mission to restock my necessities. The house and the stuff I’m stealing changes, but the theme doesn’t – I always end up having to make a hasty exit as the home’s inhabitants return while I’m busy pilfering. Last night, for instance, I was filling a sack with bags of dried split-pea soup mix, and I was ecstatic to have found it. I was also stealing a large pot from under the kitchen counter, and was filling it with rolls of toilet paper from the bathroom when I heard the front door open. It’s funny how clearly the sense of fear and urgency comes though in a dream, entirely mind-generated. I hit the backyard and was out the gate in the fence as the owner was discovering their loss, fleeing back into the woods somewhere. An easy-guess interpretation: I’m hiding from something, or scared to face something. Not sure what that may be though…
Helped a friend make a website this weekend, and, while I’d never misrepresent myself as a web-design guru, the exercise did give me a chance to learn some new GIMP/Inkscape techniques. Working from a template, we created a similar layout from scratch (admittedly, it’s a dead-simple design with no frills, and I used deprecated table-based layout techniques), and I think it came out pretty nice. Simple, clean, but gets the job done without going too crazy. Yeah, I know, it’s laughable in terms of “real” design, but as long as it books rooms and makes money – I’m happy. So anyway, if you’re into fly-fishing or just an outdoor escapist like me, go give them some trade.
Goodnight.
Change is good. Like your underwear. Fresh is better.