Old News: My First-Ever Blog Entry

28 October 2005
One of the things I always hated about grammar school was that, when you'd open a new book, there was never a page that welcomed you. No pleasantries, no assurances, just ... "Let's get started already. Summer's over. Deal with it."

Well, since you've taken the time to read [this], I'd like to start off by saying "welcome" and thanks for stopping by. Hope it's not the last time.

I haven't kept a journal of my life since ... well ... it must've been the late '90s. Yep, back in those days before blogs, when we actually took pen to paper ("y'know, back when I was a kid, we'd blah-blah-blah").

It's all coming back to me now (thank you, Celine; now beat it[, Michael Jackson]). I was seeing a therapist and she had me start with the journal. I found it [in my desk] a few weeks ago, when I was on vacation and actually attempting to put my ready room (office) in order. It was painful to read some of the things I wrote, mostly because it brought back memories of pain. Two entries, however, gave me something of a chuckle. In the first, I simply said, "Nothing. Can't think of a thing to write." The second was a love letter to Jon ... back when I thought that sappy words and sentiments could actually change someone's mind about me.

Anyway, I brought that old journal back to my room with me, fully intending to start writing again ...

... and there it sat for two weeks while I piled other things on top of it. At the end of vacation, I just put it back in a drawer of my desk, where it can remain lost to time for another bunch of years.

Today's my parents' anniversary ... 38 years. It just blows my mind. I can't imagine ever wanting to be with someone longer than three months. That's about how long my relationships (what few there are) last. Oh, well, good for the 'rents. They're going to see "Bob Newhart" tonight in Hartford. [I] jokingly gave Mom a bit of a hard time about going all that way just to see ... Bob Newhart?

Heh, you just watch. When I'm 60 and stepping out to see Robin Williams or Jerry Seinfeld, I should probably expect my niece and nephew to razz me. Reminds me of that lyric from "1985" by Bowling for Soup: "Her two kids in high school, they tell her that she's uncool." I cringe whenever I hear it. It hurts. 1985 was a pretty major time in my life. Sophomore/junior [years] in high school, just coming out of my shell, enjoying new people, new music, fast times at Cheshire High ... well, looking back, it seems that way. These days, I can't believe I ever had the energy. It's not that I couldn't have it now ... if I exercised regularly (or at all). I hate exercise. I hate the word "exercise." It should be excised.

The highlight of my day today, now that it's winding down, will be a trip to Toys 'R Us (TRU), because they're supposed to have gotten in their exclusive "Holographic Emperor" Star Wars action figures. What a racket that whole thing is. Hasbro just takes their old Emperor mold and makes a blob of translucent lavender in the shape of Palpatine. That's all it is. If I opened the damn thing, I could pretend that the Emperor was sending a holographic message of himself to Darth Vader or something, but since I don't open the figures (I'm a "collector," excuse me!), all I have to look forward to is just ... owning it ... this hunk of shaped plastic. And I'll spend about a sawbuck to own it, too. It's insanity.

Maybe later tonight I'll toss in the "special collectors' edition" of Titanic, which just came out a few days ago. Ugh, but it's such an investment of time. Do I wanna spend four hours watching the whole thing? It'd feel ... well ... wrong somehow to only watch some of it. I'm weird like that. Sometimes I feel like watching a part of some movie, but then I get this really ridiculous idea in my head that the "unwatched" portions of the DVD will somehow ... feel left out? Not be as "worn down" as the part of the movie I did watch? That sometime down the line, I'll have this DVD with uneven areas of wear 'n tear?

I think I'll just check out now. Later ...