_Thursday_
This turned into a truly random meandering thought, so bear with me. I don’t actually have a point.
I have a story that I’ve been writing since 1987, which I haven’t opened in months. I made character sketches in 1990. I made graphic designs of the hardware involved in 1994, so as to better visualize and explain it and avoid inconsistencies. It doesn’t look like I’ll be submitting that to Aboriginal Science Fiction after all (for those who don’t know, that mag is defunct now). Maybe I’ll finish it someday, but don’t hold your breath.
Funny how dreams and passions get waylaid, isn’t it? 13 years ago, I’d have assumed by now I’d be well-off and working as a computer geek somewhere. The details were unimportant to my 18-year-old self. It’s all about the details. Five years ago, I assumed I’d be single, living in California, being a beach bum and computer geek. I also had rediscovered my interest in writing (not poetry – I was never good at that) as well as my interest in creating graphics, both flat and 3D. I even started working on some new models and produced a corporate logo to spec in 1999. I was envisioning a solitary life of work, geek toys, and the Pacific hitting the rocks outside my house. Well, that didn’t happen. Life never works out as you expect, does it?
Life is good. I have a house of my own (It isn’t as large as my brother’s house, but it’s got a larger yard and I’m allowed to have a garden. Nyah!). My bride is amazing and we get along remarkably well on most days; I trust her with my heart and soul. The boy is the cutest and smartest toddler in the whole world. My job doesn’t make me want to kill people, pays well enough and it’s only 8 hours per day and no weekends (contrast to the previous 12 years). My debt is going down, and I’ve heard that my ex’s debt is going up. Kind of a personal vindication there. We cook varied meals, lots of desserts, and nobody cares if I do any situps or run 2 freakin’ miles ever. Pretty damned good.
Being somewhere you didn’t envision is not a bad thing. If life was predictable, what would be the point in living it? It’s a long and winding road, or the road less-traveled. Whichever allusion you prefer.
I tried being deep and mysterious for a while. It just felt like too much work to put on airs. So many people have a hard time just being themselves. There’s a guy I know named Mathew that I could probably write a good “thought” about someday. Not today though – today is all about me.
Is domesticity a bad thing? I don’t particularly enjoy going out to bars. When I was in the army, I’d go out with coworkers occasionally, but we had decent places to go that included decent food or pool tables sans coin returns. Just going to a bar doesn’t appeal. I’d much rather invite folks over to my house for an evening of drinks and talking. Maybe throw in a veggie platter or something and a party game. I don’t own any party games, but I’ve been told they can be fun.
I like spending time at home, curled up on the couch with a book, watching the boy play with his blocks. I enjoy putting together big towers for him to destroy. Does that make me boring? Well, good thing I don’t care about your opinion then. 😛
Art can sometimes invoke a reconsidering of life. Truly great art, anyway. The movie AI, for instance. Although the reviews belabored the film for its overuse of cliches and the visual bludgeoning at the Flesh Fair (which scene could have been cut a bit), it got people talking about important issues so it counts as good art. The issues that could be discussed include re-examining one’s life to see what’s truly important; looking past superficiality to another’s true intent; how anthropomorphizing objects can be cute in children and disturbing in adults; if people didn’t need other people, would we put up with each other? But, I digress. Wait, I had no point in the first place…
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