12:34

I don't know what it is about the time 12:34, but I feel as if it is totemic in my life. There is the obvious asthetic appeal that the numbers are all sequential, but I think there is more to it than that. For some reason I seem to notice that time more than any other. I don't know what if anything it really symbolizes, but when I do notice that it is that time, I have an odd feeling come over me. As if something significant has just happened. Aren't the little games that the psyche plays interesting?

The wonders of sleeping on the couch.

I've never been a fan of sleeping on the couch. Why bother? Even back when I was married. If Danielle and I ever had a fight, there was no way I would sleep on the couch. F that. If you don't want to sleep in the same bed with me, then you ride the couch. For that reason and the fact that she and I didn't fight in that way I don't have much experience with falling asleep on the couch. I did last night though. I managed to a fall asleep about 11 and woke up at 4. At 4 I was still so tired, that I said "fuck it" and fell back asleep, rather than get up and go to bed. That was probably my first mistake. I woke up about half an hour later and couldn't get back to sleep. I decided to schlep my ass back upstairs. I took my laptop along with me. (Second mistake) It is normal for me to be unable to sleep immediately when I go to bed, so I usually read. Rather than read one of the three books in which my place is marked by either a napkin, plane ticket or a take out restaurant menu, I decided to cruise the web. (Third mistake)

Since the internet is truly the source of all knowledge, I decided to do a little research. During dinner, a friend of mine mentioned her personal record for the number of times to have masturbated in one day. Seven. Given that my own personal best is probably in that range I was reassured that this person, who I consider "normal", was at least as frustrated/bored/horny as I'd once been. I know it is weird, but I was reassured by that. This little fact stuck in my head. How much does a normal person set aside for "me time", and how often is "normal"? Am I normal, or did I just manage to meet someone else who was sitting at the far end of the Bell curve? Yes, I knew going into this, that the search was futile, but I was bored and unable to sleep, so what else was I going to do. He he.

When I am in the midst of internet research, my first, last and usually only stop is Google. I googled around for a while and found nothing to answer my question, but like almost every trip to the internet I soon found something to pique my interest. While I do keep a blog I'm not an avid reader of blogs. This one just happened to catch my eye. The only problem was that it was on a for pay site. The site is called nerve. Most of their content is free for the public. There are however sections that are marked as "for premium members only". I managed to stumble across one and was disappointed that I wouldn't be able to see all the pictures. Just for you that don't know, nerve is one of the more cerebral adult oriented sites. Is that an oxymoron? Is it possible to be adult oriented, pornographic even and be cerebral at the same time? That is a mental exercise left to the reader. I don't really care at this moment.

OK. I'm now three paragraphs into this post and I'm not sure why I started it. The titled doesn't seem to match the topic of the post much. Oh well. I guess the point is probably a bad idea to buy a subscription to a porn site at 4 in the morning after sleeping on the couch. Consider yourself warned.

They who would give up an essential liberty for temporary security, deserve neither liberty or security -- Benjamin Franklin

As we sit here, our government is spying on it's own citizens

"We have to remember that we're talking about a wartime foreign intelligence program," he said. "It is an early warning system with only one purpose: to detect and prevent the next attack on the United States from foreign agents hiding in our midst."

This sounds so much like something from the red scare. "We must unite against the enemy among us!" This news story makes me happy. Let's not ever get comfortable with being spied upon. Let's also not let the spies get comfortable as well. They need to fear us and not the other way around.

Am I Pathologically Disloyal?

I came across this article by clicking on a link that said GenXers are pathologically disloyal. The article doesn't quite put it that way, but I think the statement might have some merit. Honestly, I have very little actual loyalty to my own employer. Don't get me wrong, I like my job, and while doing it, I hope that I act in a way that is consistent with the goals of my company. Having said that, I would not hesitate to jump ship if a really good job offer came along.

Does anybody else see the irony in the fact that the Me Generation gave birth to a generation so self centered that we are called pathologically disloyal.

I will say that the statement may be overly broad. As a whole, I think my generation is quite loyal on a personal level. However, on a professional level I think it is probably spot on. Is this because we are selfish? Maybe. I think it has more to do with the fact that there is often very little to be gained by loyalty to one organization. I think we have become cynical enough to realize that an organization (company, political party, government, etc) as a whole can be expected to look out for its own interest and will often do so at the expense of those associated with the organization. That type of behavior makes sense when some lofty goal is associated. I can buy into the "good of the many over the good of the few" argument when we are talking about things like universal education or a cure for cancer. I don't however see what I get out of that type of thinking about a company. What do I get if I'm loyal to a company? A gold watch? Who gives a shit? I don't even wear watches, and if I did, I'd buy my own.

As if I need another reason to distrust and fear my own country

In a fit of boredom, I decided to see Syriana with a friend this evening. I really do enjoy movies that make me think. This was certainly one of them. It runs in the same vein as Traffic (Another movie written by Stephen Gaghan). This movie follows about 40 different characters through about 5 differnt plot lines. Following the trail of American influence into the global oil market and some of the very cynical things that we do to make sure that we have all the oil that we need. Syriana may have made me think too much. As you all know, I keep my tinfoil hat in my back pocket and I have a few spares in my glove box, desk drawer and one or two hidden about the house. Syriana can only make this worse. I know that the whole story is a fabrication, but I also know that it can't be too far from the truth.

WTF does this dream mean?

I rarely remember what I dream, so when I do, it is a special occasion. This was kind of a weird dream, so I will write it down. There is tons of fodder for the Freudian in you, so feel free to interpret away. A couple of other things I should say. There is another individual in this dream, but probably nobody you know, so I wouldn't bother speculating. Second, the dream is a sex dream, not a really weird or gross one, but be warned.

I'm not sure if this dream begins "in medias res" or that's just how I remember it, but that's how I will recount it. The first part of the dream that I remember is lying flat on my back, while straddled by a very beautiful woman. She is someone I know. Have you ever known the identity of a character in one of your dreams, but have the individual not look anything like the actual person? That is the way that this dream was going.

In the dream, she kisses me. After she kisses me, I notice that I have some sort of food in my mouth. Have you ever eaten a meal, and you notice 20 minutes later that there is that little bit of food in your mouth? You can't believe the food has been there the whole time. I'm sitting there wondering if this is from my breakfast or hers. Eventually, I recognize that it is Kix cereal in my mouth. As I'm chewing even more appears in my mouth. Is it there because I didn't notice it or has she kissed me again and filled my mouth up with cereal? I don't know.

After the cereal, I notice that she has something written on her back. It is a large tattoo that written in large script letters that fill her back. The lettering is black ink with sort of a rose-colored shadow behind the letters. How I notice this beyond me, since she's facing me. I try to read what is on her back, but I don't remember what it said.

Next she says, "Let's play a game. It's called comfort zone". I look around and see a couple of dice, little cardboard and plastic game pieces are strewn around the bed. That's about when the alarm went off.

Let the psychoanalysis begin.

AdSense

This is just a little note to say that I've added some AdSense ads to the blog. This is more so that I can play with it and not so that I can make money. You should in no way feel obligated to click on an ad.

An interesting fabric softener

As I was pulling some laundry from the drier this evening, I kept noticing an odd minty smell emanating from the dry laundry. When I got to the bottom I found a tube of chapstick sitting there. I pulled it out and opened it up. The wax inside was a liquid that solidified on the basement floor when I poured it out. It's a good thing I love to do laundry.