The gnomes will go to war, and the forests will burn.

I had this idea, the timing as it usually is for me was terrible, but I couldn’t resist devoting a great deal of thought to it. There was a gnome statue at a friend’s house and while we were all together for bible study I just kept starting at the gnome imagining it with a musket and regimental markings on its cap. I envisioned whole brigades of armed gnomes fighting so titanic Civil War style battle. I was entirely anti-social that night for obvious and really pathetic reasons. Ah the supple joys of being introverted and imaginative.
Today I devised a story to go with the image. I shared it with my wife whose response of “Enchanted yard gnomes?” was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. Her view which I understand actually is part of the reason that I think the story works.
Ok so lawn gnomes are made in the fictional world where magic is an everyday occurrence and these yard gnomes are enchanted in such away as to enable them to actual tend people's lawns. Thereby providing cute little grizzled men to adorn and care for people’s gardens. My idea has it that the nature of the enchantment eventually allows these mass produced gnomes to achieve sentience. They, upon achieving self-awareness the gnomes arm themselves (insert another sympathetic race to make the weapons) and revolt against the humans who made them. After throwing off the yoke of their makers the gnomes are plunged into a civil war between a uneasy alliance of gnomes who seek either magic used to destroy their enchantments and sink into oblivion on their own and those who would use human ends to erase their self awareness and return to the vague nearly catatonic haze that they enjoyed as yard workers. Their opposition would be from gnomes who seek independence from the makers they despise but refuse to lose what they see as a gift and a curse. So the story would follow their creation rise to sentience, civil war and eventual establishment as an independent empire.
The kicker, the part that really gets me is bound up in my wife’s response. To her they idea of yard gnomes in general is a ludicrous one. They are in our eyes laughable. So then this documentary about their real (ok fictional but you know what I mean) struggle to define themselves and find their place in the world would be rendered comic. Do you see it? Even in their attempt to define themselves they are rendered by their very nature to be nothing more than a joke.
And for me, I can relate.

These are the pants that fit me...

“Change your life into a postcard version of white snow or so the story goes
and the horse that you rode in on will be the horse that’s taking you home”

I am an introvert. I create worlds and galaxies in my mind. I have populated them given them whole ecosystems, and histories. Someday I will detail them in a post but for those who know me you the depth and extent of my world building. All that to say I spend so much of my time in my own mind it’s almost sad. The creation of these ideas and places is something I really really enjoy but sadly my ability to manifest these things outside my own head is limited. I don’t draw that well and I don’t write very well on a single topic for very long. Basically I am like a guy whose heart is in running but suffers from a severe limp.
Introversion is almost like a character flaw or an illness. People sort of avoid introverts, don’t tend to notice us or be particularly inclined to get to know us it’s almost as if they are afraid close contact will get them infected to. (Run from the introverts, lest we become one of them and share in their social awkwardness.)
As an introvert you will be less likely to have connections, to get the job, girl, and or social recognition as that happy go-lucky extrovert that everybody loves so very much.
That said there is one thing left to us, the introverts of the world, and that great calling is heckling and a fierce devotion to cold solid logic…and computer games. That’s right we alone together will stem the tide of extroverts by posting witty criticisms on blogs and world of warcraft forums. We will play Magic and Killer Bunnies and many late nights will be devoted to Settlers of Catan and we will scoff at their nights at clubs, bars and massive parties. What uses have we of other people when we have ourselves and science fiction novels. We win by default, blessed default. That default by the virtue of self entertainment.

All of that was said tongue in cheek but…I really do love all the pursuits I mentioned…yes folks an introvert and a geek. So put that in your canoe and row with it.

'Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose got tossed along the way...

Today our small group had our garage sale. Two purposes really, 1: to get rid of all the crap that builds its own empire in our assorted garages and 2: get some money to donate to charity. I sold a bunch of my old cloths and afterward Elaine and I were talking and she said that it was sad in an illogical way when the cloths were sold. I know why, items are tangible memories. They help to keep our memories from fading. That’s why it is such a tragedy when pictures are burned not only can you not replace them but the memories that they represent will blur and fade from our minds. Even the people and times we hold the most dearly will fade into obscurity over time. Time heals nothing, it merely obscures it.
When my wife said it was sad in a way I could help but think that I have sold much more of myself than that. As we pass through our lives we are continually hemorrhaging the things and memories we have. Life is a slow loss of the things we have or had hoped to accumulate. And of what we lose the lesser of that consist of actual things. It’s unavoidable and I don’t mean it as bitterly as it sounds.

All I can see are dark grey clouds in the distance getting closer every hour.

“And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide”

“I've got a mouth full of blood.
Well I'll carry this casket if it's what I have to do.
So bring on the dark sky and let it cover me entirely.”

I’m sitting outside my job thinking. I was promoted to team lead. And this means more responsibility, slightly more pay, and significantly worse hours. I work almost all closing shifts now and as such I don’t get home most nights till around 10ish having a few hours spare in the morning before I have to go in. I feel the same about my job as I always have. These new cashing out registers and nightly book keeping responsibilities aren’t especially to my liking. I feel somewhat trapped in this position. But my feelings have hallowed over time (as all feelings do).
I am ok with this job, resigned would be the word.
The promotion will look good on a resume and I am slowly becoming more proficient at the job so it’s all ok.

unknown titles

It snowed in Portland. A while ago, this shows how long it’s been since I have enjoyed an internet connection. But the weather was fun and gave me the opportunity to go down the hill to my house sideways in the car which was interesting. Snow isn’t that common here, especially this late in the season. So it was a big deal here.
As another update, many of you know I was adopted. I never much cared about it of felt any different for having that in my past. I was adopted as a baby and so it made no practical impact on my life. The only way it has affected me is just these last couple years I began to want to know my mother by births name. I just wanted to know a little bit about her. I just felt I owed a debt, she allowed me to live. I appreciate it, sometimes it almost seems like I should thank her somehow. So I asked my dad if there was anything I could do and he said that the lawyer who arranged it told them that I wasn’t going to have any ability to learn anything. And its fine, I just feel a little disappointed. I understand why the rules are setup like they are. But still…I just wanted a name.

So what's it feel like to be a ghost...

“She said "everybody loves you,
"She says, "everybody cares"
But all the things I keep inside myself
They vanish in the air”



I woke up this morning and tried to write a bit and was dissatisfied by everything I penned. My blog is one of feast or famine. No posts or a large number of them. This is due to a lot of things, busy schedule, lack of an internet connection, but mostly it is just a steady fading of my ability to write (especially humorous writings). There was a time several years ago where I would have filled with stories and lists all which would have been hilarious, at least to myself. I don’t know what happened to that part of myself but it slipped away. I liked and valued that ability and it always is strange when we lose the things that we once used in part to define ourselves. I am now almost entirely dependant on being in the right mood for writing as to keep my ramblings from sounding contrived. That was partially why I never kept a steady journal, despite various people suggesting I should.
I have always been unremarkable easily overlooked. I would define myself as an acquired taste. I often feel invisible, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if there was a time I had more substance than this.


We realize what’s become of us while the snow falls outside and we watch out the windows while cleaning the kitchen as the neighbors and children grab sleds and walk to the nearest hill.

Close your eyes, just settle, settle

Do you suppose big fluffy cats are the biggest joke in the animal kingdom? Cats are after all voracious predators with a propensity to kill smaller animals even when they are not particularly hungry. The traditional body form of cats is lithe and slim, designed for stalking. If you consider the jaguar or any of the large cats you must admit they look ready for a spot of business in the line of predation. Leave it to us to breed cats specifically for big time fluffiness. So returning to the original question, these cats that are mostly huge balls of fur aren’t they almost a caricature of all other cats? I just look at them and think that if cats magically became sentient; those fluffy cats would be a laughing stock to all other members of the family Felidae.

In other random thoughts, I was thinking about how in my blogs I have occasionally introduced literary references and song lyrics as a sort of companion ideas to the words I write. It’s a way I guess to clarify for myself what I feel. I wonder if when other people do that it isn’t a way to see if anyone would take the time to really attempt to get to know them. I guess in a lot of ways a blog is just a person reaching out to be known in a very impersonal way.

As an addendum to that thought I write for people that know me already and as such my relationships outside this virtual world give depth to my words rather than me attempting to reach out to an unknown audience. I spoke only in generalities, as I often do.

"Everyday, in every way, I grow more and more like a fish.

At my job one of the greatest services we provide to the customer is we help them not to buy fish. For every 2 fish I sell I make sure another 5 remain safely in their tanks. Not that I particularly don’t want to sell the fish, its just sometimes you have to make a judgment call.

There are three main strategies of avoiding fish sales.
Distraction; for example, directing a customers attention away from the blood parrot he wants to put in his 20 gallon tank that is currently housing a thriving community of tetras.
Detail; for example, using a thorough and overly scientific explanation of salinity and osmotic potentials to that one costumer who just refuses to accept that he can't put a dozen guppies in the same tank as a chocolate chip starfish.
Hiding; Finding something to do at the other end of the store to avoid that one costumer who is completely convinced that they want one of those Nemo fish and no they won’t be getting a heater or sea salt thank you very much for suggesting it. (No matter how many times you say clownfish they give you a look and refuse to call it anything other than nemofish. Yes madam the scientific name is Nematias nemo; we all just call it a clownfish because we watch too much discovery channel on our off time.) With a person like that so long as you keep out of their sight they can’t buy the fish and, given enough time, they will lose interest and begin contemplating purchasing another poor doomed animal. It breaks down to a waiting game - me vs. them. My ability to stay occupied elsewhere vs. their attention span concerning the fish.

It is store policy to make sure the purchaser is capable of keeping the pet in good health, so these tactics are for the good of the customer. Sometimes you have to save them from themselves. That guy who wants to buy a dozen neon tetras and 5 tiger barbs for his already full mid-sized aquarium doesn’t want to waste money on fish doomed by his error and it is your job as an aquatics department servant to politely suggest a different purchase... that of ice cream from the Baskin Robbins next door.
You see, when the person doesn’t believe you that saltwater fish need to be in saltwater (and yes this is not uncommon) and you tried all three tactics, you might need the good old blunt force trauma to help them realize that they are on their way to becoming a serial fish killer. By blunt force trauma I mean something like this. “Well Sir/Madam the best advice I can give you about your tank right now is to just go ahead and turn around, walk out the front door, grab an aquarium manual on your way out and stand in the parking lot. Breath deep and say to yourself. ‘I’m not a bad person; I’m just opinionated and ignorant.”

And, if you were curious as to common errors made by nubies, here you go:
Overcrowding; it’s a five gallon tank and they have a shoal of neon tetras (these fish have to work in tandem just to make room for one of their brethren to turn around).

Improper equipment; It’s the Pacific Northwest and they have a bunch of fish from the South Pacific and no heater. (This is an easy one to point out. “Ever been to Maui? You have, good. Remember how nice it was and how warm the water was? Now think about your house and how you don’t need a refrigerator to keep your drinks cold. I rest my case. Buy the damn heater).
Lack of Foresight; Buying the cute little fish for a tank without bothering to find out how big it will get. And then having to face the difficulty of a fish that only is able to keep a fourth of its body in the tank and submerged at any given time. (If the customer says the plan to release over sized fish into a nearby lake, I like to ask if there are any other pets we can provide to them for illegal uses - Ferrets for minesweeping perhaps.)
Lack of commitment to the tank. If the customer says they had a Betta but gave it away because it was too much work and they are looking at saltwater aquariums, I just sigh, shake my head, and point to the front door and thank them for stopping by.

I suppose it’s the same with any animal. Reptile stores must have the same complaints.
“Oh I want that little snake for my son.”
“Lady it’s a Reticulated Python.”

She chose poorly.

It's been a long December.

"The New Year"

by Deathcab For Cutie

So this is the new year.

And i don't feel any different.

The clanking of crystal

Explosions off in the distance (in the distance).

So this is the new year

And I have no resolutions

For self assigned penance

For problems with easy solutions

So everybody put your best suit or dress on

Let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once

Lighting firecrackers off on the front lawn

As thirty dialogs bleed into one

I wish the world was flat like the old days

Then i could travel just by folding a map

No more airplanes, or speed trains, or freeways

There'd be no distance that could hold us back.

There'd be no distance that could hold us back [x2]

So this is the new year [x4]

This song perfectly encompasses how I always feel contemplating the new year.

(Does anyone else feel sense of emptness and sadness around new years?)

I never have resolutions because if you want to change your life simply trying to do so without making a big fuss about it seems the most logical way. Most of the "in the next year" crap is just a way that people can make themsleves feel better about a problem they refuse to do anything about in the present.

be it ever so be-lated

Merry Chirstmas!!!!!!!