From Caveat Emptor: Nationwide Collections addresses letter to “SHIT FACE” — Just awesome.

Today was supposed to be the start … and it wasn’t.  I was ready to go, but it was not to be.

So I came home, ate some leftovers for lunch and sat.  I was ready to start today — that was the plan.  And it didn’t, so I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I thought about it for a bit and decided on a somewhat wacky computer project: trying to install Mac OS X on my HP PC.  The actual Mac installs ran very smoothly, exactly in line with the instructions.  No problems at all — until I tried to boot back into Vista.  That’s when the fun began.

First, the machine told me that a perfectly functional file was corrupt, and thus, the OS would not start.  Then it said something about no boot record being found.  After that, there was no recognizable file system.  WTF?!

So, several hours and several Google searches later, I sit here, back in Vista but with Leopard running alongside it.  Huzzah!  That was an easy way to waste the afternoon.  Oh well, it was fun.

On tonite’s final note, there are various ideas for other posts swirling around in my head, one in particular that I just don’t know how to approach.  I wish it were easier for me, but it’s not and I don’t know how to make it so.  I’ll shoot for that tomorrow and see what happens.

It’s been a long day, and I’m very tired, so this will be a short one tonite with a bit of a cliffhanger…

Tomorrow starts what could possibly be a new chapter in my life.  Stay tuned for more details at some point.

The more time I spend talking to others, the more I realize that every family is severely dysfunctional, extremely fucked up, or at least a little nuts in their own special way. Every family has at least one member that’s intentionally not discussed, conspicuously absent at family gatherings, or is just generally ignored. They become a pariah within their own family.

Their own family.

What makes a family, as a whole, do this? Turn their collective back on one of their own? Some invariably say, “it’s for their own good,” or “they need to learn on their own,” or “it was their choice.” People think they’re doing the right thing. They may even think that they’re being supportive by cutting a loved one off — and as ashamed as I am to admit it, I’m guilty of that as well.

For me, it wasn’t about status or embarrassment or pride. Put simply, my excuse was anger. Because the person was not here to vent my frustrations to, I internalized my feelings until they were so strong that I had a great excuse to abandon this person. But it was just that — an excuse — and it doesn’t absolve me of this behavior.

Nothing will. I can’t go back and change how things have happened. I can only go forward and do my best to take advantage of the opportunities I have to repair things and heal. I’m tired of living with this pain in my heart, but more importantly, I’m tired of causing pain in the heart of this person.

It’s about blood and it’s about family. But it’s also about being a decent human being — because for me, this person is my mother.  And that first opportunity is tomorrow.

Okay, so I missed a day … and what’s worse, I have no excuse.

It’s really sad, too.  I had committed myself to NaBloPoMo and was chugging along just fine.  And then three days in, I just plumb forgot.  As I lay in bed last nite at around 2am, I remembered.  “Oh noes!” I thought to myself.

And as I said, I have no excuse.   I wasn’t terribly busy yesterday.  In fact, I spent a good amount of the day either in the office or at the computer.  Didn’t even think of it.

Oh well.  Yesterday was my gimme.  Back on track now.  And actual content to [hopefully] return tomorrow.

I just finished watching the excellent documentary by Charles Ferguson, No End in Sight [ official | Wiki | IMDb ] and it really got me thinking. Now, I try not to discuss politics of any sort here because the subject as a whole aggravates me, and I’m not about to change that policy now. With that said, when looking at a subject as wide in scope and breadth as this film, it can make one — as it has for me — reflect on their own life and realize just how insignificant the errata really is.

We all play the victim sometimes. Truth be told, I’m probably guilty of this more than most, but perhaps not as much as some. It’s the American way, after all: blame an “evil” corporation or group or person for something you’ve done wrong. We tend to look for an external cause because it’s easier than turning the judgmental focus around and really and truly looking at what it is within us that makes us sabotage ourselves, that keeps us behind.

I’m not suggesting that I have an answer to this question. I don’t. What I do know is that at the end of the day whenever we go to sleep, most of us — and I’m definitely in this group more than I’d like to admit — don’t take a moment beforehand to reflect and think on how truly great we, as Americans, have it. We take things for granted. We manipulate the world around us to fit our ideal. We pursue every advantage by any means possible, and then we whine and cry when things don’t go our way.

And it’s always someone else’s fault.

Have you ever noticed that generally the only one present at a pity party is the host? Probably. But that doesn’t stop us from doing it. We find comfort in this, and we will continue to. I’m sure I will for some time after I finish this post, despite my words here. I suppose that, to some degree, it’s human nature.

I have problems. So do you. Everyone does. But we must not lose sight of the important things. Sure, life sucks and whatnot, and sometimes others do sabotage you and sometimes it’s your own fault, and sometimes you just can’t get ahead. But you’ve still got ten fingers and ten toes and oxygen still runs through your body and hopefully, you’ll still wake up tomorrow. Without those little things, the “big” things that aggravate are insignificant.

If all of us who are lucky enough to live the way we do could remember that simple fact more often, there’s no telling how far that would take us.

The man cannot truly live unless he shares in the actions and the passions of his times.
—Oliver Wendell Holmes

I love music. All kinds, perhaps except for Country — and even that, there’s a small portion I can tolerate. I love, and have a soft spot in my heart for film — it’s an experience like no other as far as I’m concerned. It just is. I consider myself a student of the media, something of a pop-culture junkie. But that’s only true to a certain extent.

Trends in pop culture pass me by more often than they don’t, especially over the past few years. Last year, when everyone around me was quoting something annoying from Borat, I didn’t know what they were talking about. Still don’t. Many of my friends have told me how much I have to see “Heroes.” I’ve been told to watch “The Wire” as well. While here a few days ago, Jiggy recommended a new album to me. I’ve heard the phrase “voted off the island” a million times, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen an episode of “Survivor.” Or “American Idol.” Or any number of those pointless “reality” series.

My lack of exposure is not for a lack of trying, mind you. I’m always watching or listening to or reading something. Most of the time, it’s something new. The problem is that there’s always something new. I suppose it’s a good problem to have, but it can still feel overwhelming. Several months back, I canceled my Netflix subscription for this very reason. The backlog just got too large to manage, and I needed a break.

And yet I still consume. I still listen and watch and download and visit, and I love it. There’s something uniquely gratifying about experiencing art, especially when it’s not your own — because at the end of the day, you figure that the artist who created what you’re experiencing put their work out there for it to be seen, heard, whatever. It’s a nice way to pay tribute.

And that’s why no matter how behind I am, I’m always looking for something new. The backlog is persistent, but I think I rather like it that way.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have art to experience.

Welcome, Chris Lanphear! You are member #3800 of NaBloPoMo.

I really have no idea why I’m doing this, why I would commit to posting an entry every day on this here journal, considering I hardly post once a month at this point, and that’s if I think of something to say, which doesn’t happen often.

Oh well.  Guess I better start thinking of stuff to write about.  This is my journal, after all.  😉

Wish me luck, world.

Just pre-ordered the new Radiohead album. It’s up to you. No really, it’s up to you.

Giving a shout-out to the compact disc, which also turns twenty-five today!