D1: The last good idea in yer head

I have no idea how to begin this post.

There's virtually no substance to it - at least, not in the sense of, "I did something today, let me tell you about it." There's not really much to tell. I'm just... anxious, I guess. Life's got me sitting on edge, perched and ready to plummet.

Take mom, all doped up on painkillers (which she, perhaps ironically, is denying my dog,) fixated on housekeeping (probably not good for her wrist,) asking me to throw out my old t-shirts since she got me a bunch of new ones. Since when getting new clothes means obliterating my old ones, I have no idea. I like those weird AmWay t-shirts I got a few years back, which say "Everybody Get Free" on the back. I don't really know what it means, and they're stupid, but I think it's funny. Plus they fit. Who's going to throw out a shirt that fits? Why should I have less clothes?

Or my brothers, who are fixated on this little feud of theirs, trying to make the other tap out because of some stupid wager over some lame argument they keep having over........I can't even explain it. I understand it implicitly, but to impart the meaning of this paragraph would require words even I (master of English though I am,) don't have.

I went back to bowling today. My hand is still a little sore. No explanation for that other than my being out of practice, but I averaged out after a shaky start. There only appeared to be 5 Major division bowlers, though, so I wonder how that one's going to come back. Maybe they'll just go "okay we don't have enough people to run Major bowling this year, here's your money back, have a good one." That'd solve my moral dilemma, and yet be far too convenient.

Dad made lasagna today. My father is by no means a master chef, but he has, over the years, accumulated a repertoire of meals he can prepare very well, and that is one. Homemade lasagna. When Frank was still living with us - I think we were back at River Oaks at this point - he made a lasagna from his family's recipe (they are Italian over there, after all,) and I didn't like the taste. It was somehow bitter. Unpleasant. God, that's an unpleasant memory. Very few nice things are ever said around here about Frank (and rarely anything at all.) Let's move on.

Like I said, there's not much content to this blog. But those who like it, like it a lot.

I've got some stuff on my mind, but it's nothing for blog material.

I went back to pants today. I'd been wearing shorts pretty well consecutively from May until this morning, when I woke up and decided, "hm, yes. It's pants now." A few years ago, I considered going pants all the way through the summer.

I applied at this place for a job today. It's nothing big, and it's quite assuredly temporary, but it's cash. Hopefully it works out.

Things rarely seem to.

To be fair to my mom, this place is a mess. I have this sinking feeling, though, that I'm gonna wake up tomorrow morning and see it vacuumed aleady and be like, "aw, damn, he went ahead and did it."

There are things we cannot control. Implicitly, other people are among them. Sure there are those rare cases when you find how to tug the marionette strings perfectly, but usually people are worlds apart in their heads. I think that's a comforting thought. Though I like to be heeded, I'm not such a control freak I think I need to be inside everyone's head. It's nice to know there are factors you can't blame yourself for.

On that note, I hope you can keep on rockin'
-El Scotto