Brain Dump - Random.

I haven't spoken to my mom in about 4 years. The fact that it *doesn't bother me* bothers me more than the fact I haven't talked to her. That sentence probably don't even make any damn sense. I sometimes think I'm seriously broke inside. That I don't have the things people are supposed to have to feel the things they're supposed to. It's supposed to bother you if you don't have a relationship with your mom, right? Cause I really don't miss that shit.

They should make Chuhai with a higher alcohol content. And in chocolate. But grape flavor is alright. Thank god for Jack Daniel's and diet soda.

Being in Japan, I've got way too much alcohol tolerance these days. It should be far easier to cop a buzz. You know though, I don't think you ever catch a buzz like you do the first couple times you ever have a drink. Later bloomer that I was, I had my first real drink in Rhodes, Greece circa 1991 - sophomore year in college... I remember, listening to the music in the bar/club... that I had a feel of flow and rhythm listening to music that I've never had since then. But that's probably the alcohol talking.

Speaking of alcohol, starting your week off with a Monday drinking party is a plan for failure. First grade teacher's "togetherness" party on a Monday = hangover/dragging ass on Tuesday... and pretty much shooting the hell outta the rest of the week. Things done in Japan for a sense of togetherness, I swear.

WTF is up with folks walking cats on a leash? Is that nonsense only in Japan? Cause that shit is ridiculous.

Tupac was right.

It's easy to see other people's biases. It's harder to see your own. It's the hardest to tell somebody else what their bias is. Cause nobody likes to hear that shit.

This year's school teaching schedule went from elementary school classes on Monday to classes on Tuesday and Wednesday. Even though it ends up being 2x the # of classes, I appreciate not having to deal with the munchkins the first thing Monday AM. That shit requires a certain amount of enthusiasm. Which is sometimes hard to conjure up first thing on a Monday.

If you just think something, it doesn't mean anything. Saying it out loud or writing it down puts it out there in the universe. This blog counts, even though it's out in the ether. Shoot, it's why I'm even writing this shit out, even though it doesn't "mean" anything.

These days, I automatically think less of folks that are religious or who claim religion. And then I feel guilty and elitist for judging. And then I remember that they usually choose to worship a deity who they think will condemn me to an eternity of painful torment and torture for refusing to bend a knee and worship him. Or just for being not sure. And they're cool with that. So fuck them. It evens out, I think. We'll trade my slight condescension of their intellect for their allegiance to a god who'll punish me in exquisite torture for all of time. Anyone who knows their way is the only way - be it religious, political or philosophical... well, they're just full of shit, aren't they?

Speaking of religion, I honestly do resent the fuck out of being raised in a faith that fucked my head up from an early age, filling it with a psychology filled with guilt, shame and punishment. Why the hell does a 10 year old have to go to "confession"? You're fucking 10 years old... you don't have any fucking "sins." No, instead we're going to force you to go tell the scary dude dressed all in black, who always is talking about hell, whatever things in your life you're most embarrassed or ashamed about. Yeah, that's not gonna screw you up...

Everybody's Easter wishes on Facebook ends up making me kind of angry, and then all passive aggressive. And then jealous. I wish I was simple minded and fables and nonsense gave me comfort. Ignorance is bliss. I've never known that. I think too much. Fuck.

But you know, no matter how fucked up I think things are, I can't bring myself to resent the folks who raised me. I honestly believe, everybody is doing the best they can. "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." - Plato. That shit is truth. No matter how fucked up I may think those decisions were, they tried. And they were doing their best.

That doesn't mean I can't judge that shit though.

I didn't suffer from an abusive, Dickensian childhood, but I do remember metal flyswatters used on more than one occasion on my ass. And I had a parent and a sibling who, while not quick to strike, weren't altogether hesitant to lay hands on me. I got good smackings on multiple occasions. I don't know that I deserved that shit. I remember getting smacked for spilling stuff, which strikes [haha - a pun!] me as excessive. [Glad my brother is a better father than he was a brother, at times. At least he grew out of that shit.] I do remember in my teenage years grabbing my mom's hands to keep her from smacking me. And I remember watching my mom losing her mind one time, after smacking me in the face, when I asked her if that "made her feel better." I'm absurdly proud of that moment. Smartass runs deep in my veins.

I wish I could go back in time, make completely different choices about just about everything in my life, but still end up exactly where I am now. And I would've totally been a huge slut in high school.

It is eminently fucked up to look back on your life to realize that you made a bunch of your decisions in hopes, subconsciously and psychologically, that you'd get folks to like you. And those folks you were hoping to influence were the folks who were supposed to like you, regardless of the choices you make. But those decisions DID make them like you more. And later, when you made decisions they disagreed with, they liked you less. Family is a motherfucker.

Man, I love my wife.

I remember, during the process of college selection, way back 20 or so years ago, both my parents saying, basically "yeah, we'll try to help, but you're kind of out of luck, we don't really have any $$." Any wonder, as a dumb 17 year old, I went to the Naval Academy? One thing I DO remember was the fact that my older brother was going to step up and help me out, had I decided to go to a different school. I can't tell you how crappy I felt later when I found out that my mom was pressuring my brother that it was his "responsibility" to help me out. Who the fuck was supposed to be the parent here?

All sorts of sites, books, etc say that when you are trying to figure out your future you should "follow your passion." Huh. There's a wealth of stuff I find interesting/fascinating, but passionate about? Jeez. I don't know. I remember being passionate about wanting to be Batman at about 8-9 years old, but that's about it. I can't remember an age where I wasn't expected to be intelligent, practical or pursuing what was expected of me. Ever since age, say, 26 or so, where I broke free of expectations [okay, not really, and only a little bit, but I'm working on it] where I didn't have some sort of expectation about what I should be doing... In a lot of ways, I don't even remember what it's like to BE passionate about something...

Weekends are too short. Jesus, do they blow by quick...

Joss Whedon is god.

Sometimes I wonder if people are really aware at all of the things they say, do or affect. [See biases, earlier...]

Meaning in life through work is a fickle thing. I can feel totally fulfilled when a group of kids crowd me in the store to try to have a conversation in English or when a buncha kids wanna have a bike race. Totally worth being in Japan for. Totally significant and full of satisfaction being where I am and doing what I do. But when I try to start a convo with one of the kids I think I've built up a rapport with over the last couple years, and they blow me off with a visceral disdain, it makes me wonder what the hell I'm even doing here.

It's been 5 weeks since the Mrs has headed back to the US. Since then, and I've realized only recently, I have buried myself in mediocrity. I've even said, jokingly, I need to keep myself distracted. In order to keep from thinking too much about a being split apart from the wife. And I have. Constantly, almost... video playing in the background... YouTube spirals... anything and everything just to keep myself intrigued.

But.

I've wondered, of late, why I've felt so... lacking, is probably the best word. Something missing, I guess. And the truth of it is that I have spent the time filling my life with everything and anything. And it's that that gets it. Because, really, there is a great deal of quality TV, DVD, MP3, podcasts and what else out there out in the ether, but I've not been discriminate at all. I've been, really, sucking up all and any in the vainglorious hope that it'd affray the fact I'm living alone now. That really needs to change, lest I spiral further downward and downward into a life and a world where I really don't enjoy or have a point to what I'm doing. So it is.

Less sucking it all in then, in hopes of fighting off painful loneliness, and more careful and discriminate attention to what goes into the brainpan.