Life is strange.  When it crawls by, you wish it would speed the fuck up; and when it speeds by, and you take the time to notice that it's speeding, you so badly want it to slow down.  Is the whole point of our existence to long for something that we cannot have?  To control circumstances that we are incapable of controlling?  Or, can we control them, but lack the awareness of the ability to do so?  How can we be certain that any of the questions we pose the universe will be heard, let alone answered?  Does everyone really feel the same longing for something that's missing?  Are there people out there who are awakened to the secrets of life, assuming that there do exist such secrets?  What steps can we take to enlighten ourselves and fulfill a purpose?  

I feel, all too often, that it's all beyond comprehension.  I mean, am I alone?  I can't be.  But, why is it that I never, or almost never, feel comfortable discussing these things.  Yet, I find it absolutely necessary to banter and small talk to avoid what could be a beautiful, comforting and quite possibly, a very necessary silence.  Delusion, deception and distraction, the very nemeses of progress, are the weapons I create to destroy the thing I claim to seek the most: Truth.  

A security blanket, a brick wall, a mindless conversation with someone you should know better than you probably ever will, all busy us.  And, what is busy?  We're all "busy", aren't we.  Too busy to do anything that is "unimportant".  Excuse me, but what the fuck are we busy with, exactly?  Can anyone answer that?  We all can.  But, will we?  Defy the rules of safety within "correct society" to be so impolite as to follow up a, "How are you?," with a, "Seriously, how are you?  What gets you up every morning?  What are you afraid of?  Do you love anything?  Anyone?"  How is it that these things are unimportant?  

I am starting to realize, day by day, that I, of course am part of the problem.  Well, I like to think of it as an equation, rather than a problem.  Problem has suck a negative stigma attached, whereas equation, although challenging, suggests that it can, and should be solved.  Which, it can and should.  And, of course, the first step in any equation is to review our given circumstances, which are plainly and simply that our communication and personal connections are dwindling and being replaced by fear in a society that would rather text message and email than speak on the phone.  And, would rather speak on the phone than face to face.

And, here I am, High and Mighty, talking about a massive communication breakdown in My Fucking BLOG.  I am officially calling the kettle black.  

A trip

I think I'd better take a trip.  To the library.  I've got a CD that's overdue.  I love libraries.  I love borrowing things, using them and then returning them.  Then you don't have to buy everything.  Imagine how much shit you'd have if you did.  And, I've already got a lot of shit.  

It's gorgeous weather today.  Just gorgeous.

Yesterday, Jeff and I had a ukelele jam session for like 3 hours.  It was so awesome.  I think I progressed more in that 3 hours than I did the whole 5 months on the ship.  Exclamation Point.

Today, Matt came over and we played a bit, too.  He, coincidentally, is the reason I have a ukelele.  Thank you, Matt.  

Well, Flock of Seagulls is Saturday.  Sunday is Father's Day.  And, guess who's Dad is dead again this year?  Yep.  Mine.  But, I do still have my grandpas.  Oh.  Actually, only one now since one of them died this year.  Just grand.

My friend Dana, the "nervous breakthrough" guy, is so awesome.  So, I saw him on the street yesterday.  And, we stopped to chat.  He's always so encouraging and uplifting.  He was reading this Eckhart Tolle book called, "A New Earth", something like that.  It was weird because Jenn had just told me she was reading it like 2 days earlier.  So, I was even more curious that it came up twice.  Well, he told me that I have to get it because it will change everything.  And, he apologized for not finishing his copy so I could have it.  

We went our separate ways, and I went off to SC to work.  Wouldn'tcha know it, about 2 hours later he hunted me down.  He had really no idea of where I worked in the office.  He kept asking people, and somehow found me, which was indeed miraculous.  See, he knew my first name, but never uses it, and kind of forgot it.  He always calls me "Rush", which is about the coolest nickname one can have.  Go figure.  He's like the coolest dude on the planet; it only makes sense that he would crown me with that name.  By the way, he didn't just make it up one day.  It came from my trip to Russia.  He just started calling me Rush.  

So, anyway, he's asking people around if they know where he can find, "Oh, god.  Ya know, I call her 'Rush', but her real name is..." He finds me in the office, and hand delivers me a brand spanking new copy of the book.  And, right in front of my boss, which made it even better.  Talk about awesomely making someone's day.  I think he's like some spiritual guide for me or something.

Then, I get home, and I notice that an old high school pal friended me on facebook.  So, I accepted, happily, and realized that one of our mutual friends that I had lost contact with, but had been trying to find for weeks, might possibly be one of her cyberbuds.  AND HE WAS!  

So, I friended him, and then I immediately lost my internet connection, but like twenty minutes later, my phone rang.  Mark!  So awesome.  Oh my god!  We haven't talked in years, somehow we fell out of touch.  I just remember how fun it was hanging out with him.  Once, we went to a dollar store and bought kids cop costumes and drove around pretending to be cops.  We paraded around a Mattress Giant, demanding to see The Mattress Giant, to take him downtown for questioning.  Then, we saw real cops on the side of the road, and we asked them, politely, if they needed back up.  The dirtiest look I've ever seen flushed both of their faces, and, quite frankly, I don't know why we weren't arrested.  

Oh, and when we were like 16 and 18, we would go around crashing events.  Probably the best one was the Fucking 10 Year High School Reunion that we somehow managed to squirm into.  We were lying our asses off, and drinking and dancing.  So much fun.  Anytime someone would ask us a question, one of us was like, "Hey, (whatever the name tag said) didn't I used to copy off you in geometry?!  How are you?  You look great!"  I swear to god, a lot of them were like, "YEAH!  Remember the time....(too many stories to choose, sorry)"  

Then I remembered our game, "Garbagelawn".  Which, basically consisted of a few to several people driving around on the night before garbage pickup, garbagepicking the shittiest, funniest shit ever and a shit ton of it, and then arranging it on someone's lawn like art.  We did it mostly to ourselves.  The magnum opus in Garbagelawn was at MY house in Evergreen Park.  Holy Shit!  It took me over 2 hours to drag all the fucking hilarious shit off my front lawn into the alley.  My mom was actually the first one to see it in the morning.  She woke me up, "Um.  Eileen?  I think your friends left you a present.  Can you get it off my lawn?"  A BigWheels, Little Tykes Kitchenette, A Bassinet.  So much shit you wouldn't believe.  I felt so privileged to be the recipient of such a gift for which I did not feel worthy.  

Anyway, he lives in Georgia now, but he's coming to Chicago next weekend for a wedding, so hopefully we can get together.  And, he might actually move back here.  Maybe.