I am done with this blog.  I don’t want to write here anymore.  Those I know and hold dear know how to find me.

Love, Me

A business that makes nothing but money is a poor business.

-Henry Ford, Industrialist (1863-1947)

*************************************************don’t ask what that is….  I think it’s the Internet aliens showing their presence.

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Sheryl Crow Lyrics

Strong Enough Lyrics

God, I feel like hell tonight
Tears of rage I cannot fight
I’d be the last to help you understand
Are you strong enough to be my man?

Lie to me
I promise I’ll believe
Lie to me
But please don’t leave

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My thoughts drift to men.  I want a man.  I want a man who:

1.      Will cook for me;

2.      will clean for me;

3.      will love me (physically and mentally);

4.      will accept MS;

5.      will be caring;

6.      will hold my hand;

7.      will find my sensitivities sweet;

8.      will wipe my tears;

9.      will pick me up;

10.  will put me down (after carrying of course);

11.  will enjoy sex (and being expressive, open);

12.  will want to spend time with me without just wanting sex;

13.  will want to hang out with my friends;

14.  will want me to hang out with his friends;

15.  will accept my family;

16.  will encourage me to meet his family (hoping they accept me, but really, why shouldn’t they?);

17.  will be vulnerable in front of me;

18.  will be strong enough to be my man;

19.  will bring me to reality;

20.  will drink beer and smack me on the ass when a “hottie” walks by.

 Why do we blog?  Why do we attempt contact with others through the Internet?  What drives us?

We want contact.  I know I do because I don’t receive a lot of contact in my physical world.  When in university, I interacted with many people.  Sure not many “friends” whom I desired to associate with, but forced into interaction through groups and projects.

I interact with my four fellow work colleagues.  I interact with most of my client’s associates through email and telephone, never meeting the people unless there are extreme circumstance.

Interestingly to me how we want to communicate with others through this medium.  I’m amazed how many people I know solely through the Internet, some solely through my blog or the blog of others I have happened across.

As I sit here waiting for people to come online, I sit and write in my blog.  I want to go to the market with mom, I wish she was online…

Quote

God made everything out of nothing, but the nothingness shows through. -Paul Valery, poet and philosopher (1871-1945)

Nothingness.  I love this word.  It make me feel empty.  I am feeling empty lately.  Oh, and I wrote a poem last night because I was temporarily inspired.  I know Don will appreciate this, but I am not here to please everyone.

Poem

To know I was here

To know I was missed

To know I was loved

-Me

Please don’t gush, praise, or insult.  Just leave it as is.  Some chick with a blog whom thinks she can write poetry.

And Momma has arrived online.  Cherrio!

For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the

eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of

work. -Doug Larson, Olympic Gold Medalist (1902-1981)

“Leave the beaten track behind occasionally and dive into the woods. Every time you do you will be certain to find something you have never seen before.” – Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone.

I read this quote from a calendar. Forced myself to read the quote even though I fixated on it being the wrong month. A pleasant literal surprise indeed.

I miss walking in the woods and hiking off-trail. Whist off, I’d memorize every visual input and relay it to myself upon returning to the trail.

I am walking off the path tonight and into the woods, I am planning on going out with friends to a pub. This is huge for me. I am so dependent on people, can I be independent in public? Beyond work and home? My goodness.

I’m frightened, I’m excited, I’m wearing my adult diaper And I am proud of myself for venturing into the woods, even if it is as simple as going to the pub.

And I have a soft spot for Alexander Graham Bell. He lived in Nova Scotia until he died. Dude, he totally made the phone company and without the foundation of mass phone systems, would you be reading what you’re reading today? I’m on high-speed, but it’s telephone lines bringing the information into cyberspace. Hmm…

And I have a thing for the name Alexander or Alex. It’s the consonant sound of “x” I’m attracted to. Strange huh?

Oh, notice today’s date and Alexander’s birth date. Strange again, huh?

When life smacks you up side of the head, when you question your actions, when you wish you were elsewhere…  This to me is always a time for transitions and realizations.

I contemplate my current actions in life:  What am I doing to contribute to the “long-term” life I am to lead?  What do I want for myself?  Is Thing 1 beside my computer destined for the home of my friend’s or shall Thing 1 stay by me?

But I come to the realization I’m hungry so I go and eat.  I watched Jen make sushi and ate Chana Masala.  Spell-check loves those words!  Anyway, I eat, I went away, I left this post as it is in the current.

I watched the snow, sat with the candle (my eyes grew large as I realized the candle is unattended in the kitchen – fire? Okay, fire or post???)

..

…

….

g’night

As Halifax braces for a day/night/morning of snow tomorrow, I hear nothing but warnings on the radio regarding our 20 cm.  Do you remember the days when 20 cm was such a tiny amount of snow?

Jumping into the snowbanks created by snow plows (I still run to the window when I hear one coming – I love watching them!  Next best thing to the Zamboni(R) ).  Building tunnels and forts ready to withstand the next snow and possible snow plow attach.

I love snow days when I am spending them indoors, cozy in bed.  I am looking forward to Saturday and hoping my roommate is working so I have the “whole house to my self” *enter funny song*…

I am sorry this week for being less on keel than norm.  I know I’m all over the place in general, but I’ve been slacking more in the areas I feel needing attention.   I will continue this flight into the weekend and hopefully bring some insight into the life in progress then

Love, Me

People like to imagine that because all our mechanical equipment moves so much faster, that we are thinking faster, too. -Christopher Morley, writer (1890-1957)

Isn’t it always about me?    All I can do is smile on the inside and by typing.

I wonder about me sometimes.  Am I doing … correctly?  … meaning whatever, mostly life.  Am I performing according to the way others wish?   Am I caring too much and pondering something without reason?

I wonder about my head space and when I will feel differently.  I am making mountains out of mole hills, I am getting upset over the smallest things, I am not a person to be reckoned with, I want to run away from myself.

When I’m here, there is no other place to go, but sleep.

Where Me gets rest   And smiles on the inside.