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You're Love in the Time of Cholera!
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're Infinite Jest!
by David Foster Wallace
While you1 consider yourself2 to be clever,
there are those3 who think you're just full of yourself or, perhaps worse,
playing a joke4 on everyone around you, and yet you are pretty sure that
you really are that brilliant after all, since people would hardly take the time to
get to know you5 if they didn't care very deeply about what you had to
say to them, to wit, about their lives, their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their
drug habits, and of course what videos6 they prefer to watch, since,
after all, your impressive vocabulary and tendency to go on and on7 makes
you seem superior, able to educate them, and really drive a sense of something
ineffable into their measly little skulls while you are not above making a cheap
gag or really going after anyone or anything or telling them about incredible
futures involving tennis, geopolitics, and
1Meaning you personally, not someone like you or your own
personal daddy, for example.
2As well as you can see yourself, which, frankly, may not be that well.
3Though we wouldn't deign to be so peripatetic as to name them here, mind.
4Jokes, though not common in Victorian England, were known to originate
sometime in ancient history, perhaps as early as the time of Babylon, or even before.
It is thought that the history of the joke plays an integral role in the mindset of
the characters depicted here, though you may disagree at this point, in which case I
am facing quite the dilemma in relaying this narrative, no?
5It is rather time consuming, after all.
6Ha!
7and on and on and on...
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're The Metamorphosis!
by Franz Kafka
Though you think you're in the midst of a dream, the fact of the
matter is that your life has become a nightmare. The nightmare at first seems
horrific to you, but you are slowly able to adjust to the facts of the matter
and settle down and make do with what you've been given. There are those that
would say you're pointless and absurd, but you're really just trying to
demonstrate that people can (and do) adapt to anything, no matter how absurd
it is. Not that this will really inspire them to change, because they probably
don't understand.
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
16 comments:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYY-KKb3ZN8&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwindtonic23%2Eblogspot%2Ecom%2F&feature=player_embedded
"No, you cannot have a pony!"
Not yours.
I relate to this because I am still Sharon's employee, sibling second, and daughter last. I would live nearby and visit every time I could, if Sharon was in jail. She calls to make sure I get an ac checkup or have the bushes trimmed. I tell her that I live alone, and I do not want to have strangers descending on me for routine maintenance, while I recognize that it is needed.
Many commenters have said that Alexis is the reason she should have had two children. Risking everything on the ingratitude of one is ill-advised.
https://youtu.be/oCOsgF_9i6g?si=sNBwtTib-0EfZu7H
In hindsight, Martha would agree that she did not get a bad deal. "Uncle" Kevin Sharkey, the daughter's sperm donor, is like a son.
My mother forgot to pick me up many times, and gave me excessive responsibility as a child, but I was a difficult child to parent. Frank discussion and disapproval were more effective than smothering positive regard. Always having work to do.
My mother goes with me in things that matter like my cat(s) to the vet.
https://youtu.be/x66oNoO17Fo?si=OezW6UD6t0aXhupJ
Your trepidation with 22 years apart is noted. Two things guard against this: a contract written, and signed with teeth, such as an infidelity clause, which depends on the individuals and the circumstances involved, and a shared commitment to morality.
https://thedailyrecord.com/2014/07/15/the-art-of-the-infidelity-clause/
Human weakness and backsliding takes different forms in everyone. For instance, many young couples get fat, and then become sexually unattractive to each other, in the late thirties. Another possibility, among women, is this insidious goal of coasting while being a "stay-at-home mom." The Greatest generation did a better job of this, though the current iteration scrolls the phone, heats up something in the microwave, and then the children raise themselves on their electronic devices.
*Even now; when my brother gets exasperated with his daughter, who struggles to locate "we" on the prescribed reading page, will not take away her tablet entertainment.* I have shown him this:
https://www.aacap.org/AACAP/Families_and_Youth/Facts_for_Families/FFF-Guide/Children-And-Watching-TV-054.aspx
I do not endorse throwing an infant into daycare to work, but a shared reality of a partnership is that both partners work, and contribute to society outside of home. There is the perennial argument for quality time with the juggling of routines. I will not get fat, and I will always work. The anxiety of not paying my bills makes me gag, and no matter how much money I earn, I appreciate the evolutionary pressure in the long run. The genome-level anxiety of not living up to you persists.
I tell my brother that he will eventually have to get off his ass; at midlife, and he will appreciate growing up, finally.
My mother once said that she wouldn't move in with her long-term boyfriend, Walter, because she did not want to take care of him. She said that she did not want to live alone, so she is subsequently inundated with Keith and his dependents. I told her; in balance, you can claim them as dependents on your taxes?
So what is my weakness, and what is the solution?
https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20221005-emotional-infidelity-the-flirtation-that-undermines-couples#:~:text=Broadly%2C%20emotional%20infidelity%20describes%20a,line%20without%20necessarily%20becoming%20physical.
I cannot spend excessive unstructured time at work. I cannot be friends with either gender at work. No socializing outside of work with colleagues. I am not an easy person to get to know, and that is for the best. One respects the sanctity of the relationship by not airing one's clean or dirty linen, for cheap conversation.
The nature of my work, as it is, is that I witness individuals's most intimate secrets every day. I submit, and other people submit, to relating to me in this way; therefore, I have to delineate with others and coworkers unintentionally wanting to be close and breach these boundaries. It is for the best that I find a second way that develops my analytical ability, with fewer opportunities for emotional trespass.
When I want to spend more time with you, I must actively find ways of relating to you, and then we are both satisfied.
What I have to do; today, right before the end of the fiscal year:
https://cpr.heart.org/en/cpr-courses-and-kits/rqi
The mannequin for the simulation is frequently off, and travels all over the hospital. I must go today to do it. I have never had a year where doing something so easy was made so difficult. The computer, "Harder, push harder..," while it gives one feedback on the compressions.
I had to stay behind late to chart because I had patients from the cath lab and vascular surgery back-to-back. Also, a pregnant girl who vaped, and sustained a spontaneous pneumothorax requiring a chest tube, vaso-vagaled, but did not lose consciousness. I told her that I was perhaps not the best match for her as a nurse, not being able to empathize with her gravity and referred shoulder pain from the air under her skin. I tried to use narcs judiciously for the fetus.
So many young people vaping and dropping lungs!
https://www.facs.org/for-medical-professionals/news-publications/journals/case-reviews/issues/v3n4/hung-fong-vape/#:~:text=Smoking%20is%20a%20well%2Dknown,at%20risk%20for%20spontaneous%20pneumothorax.
Yes, I have to do RQI again, quarterly, by December 31st.
I stayed late to chart. I had four heavy patients, and I did not get lunch. Panting all day to keep apace.
I loaned the AARP-eligible Sagittarius on my floor my stethoscope (forgot to get back), and then I agreed to help with the completion of his RQI.
If I was working here in my seventies, I would want someone to have mercy on me.*
https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Mystery_of_Marriage/B0iDAwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=to%20recognize%20one's%20true%20soul%20mate%20derives%20from%20the%20chayah&pg=PA16&printsec=frontcover
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_YvzWuZesY
One conclusion I have formed from being here again among wealthy, bronzed retirees and construction managers (the merchants and farmers who become rich one season, and cycle into and out of bankruptcy with subsidies) is that this is a godless place.
After working hard, the entitlement to recreate with a round of golf, live music, and drunk driving with golf carts is not bad in and of itself. It reminds me of a prolonged college experience that is the aspiration, to be served, entertained, endlessly with little reflection...
It was nice to see so many families with their children at the aquarium. That system breaks down with preadolescents, often never to be rejoined.
The EBT enrollees at the produce markets are gross: despite the line of mixed elderly and working people, the grasping carloads of unproductive recipients skip ahead and take all.
Grasping is the apt term. Their avarice is a tell in their hands and body language. It is difficult to conceal.
I found four books in the Little Libraries, and I came home to find one of my pet deer limping, and then collapsed in the yard after a vehicle collision.
Glen Rounds's The Blind Colt (1941)
Herman Melville's Moby Dick in a strange 1976 binding...
Dwight Eisenhower's The Bitter Woods (1969) from the Bollingbrook School, a segregation school formed in Petersburg in 1958...
Irvine Welsh's Glue (2001) with a cracked egg on the cover signifying a broken start
I think Martin Amis read Irvine Welsh's work to study the place of Lionel Asbo (2012). I like Welsh's language, but I cannot relate to the content.
I like this review from British Columbia:
https://www.januarymagazine.com/fiction/glue.html
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