tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post113913198860118932..comments2023-11-03T04:30:02.787-06:00Comments on the world's first unmanned flying desk set: consider yourself, take twoeditorgirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07663037069842805377noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139370743812657042006-02-07T20:52:00.000-07:002006-02-07T20:52:00.000-07:00Of course there are right times. Of course all wi...Of course there are right times. Of course all will happen as it should. But the readiness won't appear only after the mess is gone. The mess won't ever completely go away. In my case, it took getting married to figure a lot of it out--and there are still choice bits that stetch their haunting muscles now and again. I suppose that is part of the reason one should get married--not the only one of course, (let's not be mercenary) but it's one of the major perks. <BR/>And marriage brings its own messes. The little people certainly do. I'm terrified every single day. I haven't killed her yet, so I guess the only possibility is emotional disfiguration. <BR/>Maybe all that counts is that we find the reasonably clean and unwrinkled clothes every day, regardless of what we had to dig through. <BR/>And I'm waxing maudlin, so I'll stop.Aislinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08198490884590035587noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139265545232932602006-02-06T15:39:00.000-07:002006-02-06T15:39:00.000-07:00.By the way: Hooray for Bawb..<BR/><BR/>By the way: Hooray for Bawb.Th.https://www.blogger.com/profile/16460795570237872290noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139265505502103292006-02-06T15:38:00.000-07:002006-02-06T15:38:00.000-07:00.Don't play with us. Your Super Bowl innuendo was ....<BR/><BR/>Don't play with us. Your Super Bowl innuendo was missed by no one.Th.https://www.blogger.com/profile/16460795570237872290noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139250953839783052006-02-06T11:35:00.000-07:002006-02-06T11:35:00.000-07:00And I tried to comment, too. Especially because yo...And I tried to comment, too. Especially because you sort of quoted me. I felt validated.<BR/><BR/>:D<BR/><BR/>Thanks for being you.Tolkien Boyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03816447362432499481noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139249282112769222006-02-06T11:08:00.000-07:002006-02-06T11:08:00.000-07:00Consider yourself, brought to you by Google Reader...Consider yourself, brought to you by Google Reader and the number 3:<BR/><BR/>Tolkien Boy writes one "sad" post for every five "happy." Master Fob warns his readers. And most just don't do it. So consider yourself warned. This is my one.<BR/><BR/>Love is in the air. Couples are multiplying. Even my sister feminists are brushing up on their flirting skills, slying checking out men, and recreating their torn up lists of "What I Want in a Man/Marriage/Child." And I'm watching from this bizarre detatched thought process--as, let's face it, always.<BR/><BR/>I've been thinking, as always. Reading and watching movies and thinking. And it's taken me an hour to type and retype that. Maybe there are things that shouldn't be written. But on this I want opinions. Opinions and reassurance. Reassurance of what, I'm not sure. But reassurance.<BR/><BR/>There are things in my life that I don't worry about. Stress over, sure. But somehow things work out. The example closest at hand is academics. I can do school. I belong in a university setting. I don't want to leave a university setting. Because it's safe. Because I always succeed. Because I never let myself down.<BR/><BR/>I've never worried about getting married, about being married. I've always assumed that it would happen someday, when it was supposed to. I'm still not worried about getting married. It's the being married that scares me. It's being with someone and being responsible for little someones.<BR/><BR/>I have an idea of the type of man I want, or at least hope for. And the image is flexible. But in the back of my mind is the mantra I learned a long time ago: Be the person you want to marry. Or the ultimate variation, Be the type of person the person you want to marry wants to marry. But right now, I'm not the type of person any man would want to marry. I'm a mess. And I'm not trying to claim that my mess is greater than anyone else's mess. My mess is probably minisculine compare to other messes. But it's still a mess. It's still an ever-present part of my life. And I don't feel like I could ask anyone to live with me and my mess. I don't want to pass this mess on to innocent children. Is it being fair to ask someone to live with this, for eternity? I personally don't think it's fair that I have to live with it.<BR/><BR/>I know I'm being vague and weepy--two heinous sins in writing. If I was a student, I'd write over that last paragraph "Show, don't tell." And if I could, I would take you on a tour of my house and my car. Show you the piles of papers and the shoes by the door, the attempts at organization and the thin layer of dust that has been collecting since the last time I cleaned, which was New Year's Eve. And that's only the living room. My room is a disaster. Clothes everywhere. I literally dig through the pile everyday to find something reasonably clean and unwrinkled. There are boxes that still need to be unpacked. Or just trashed. This is my environment, my habitat. This is where I live.<BR/><BR/>Scratch that. I live here, on my computer. I shut everything out, which is why everything is a mess. I watch my movies and I read my books and I hold entire conversations without leaving my recliner and my flannel quilt. My world is so small. And such a mess. There isn't room for another person; I'm still trying to find room for me.Bradenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02561613173295281689noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139239504697082312006-02-06T08:25:00.000-07:002006-02-06T08:25:00.000-07:00You're only being considerate when the people who ...You're only being considerate when the people who "ask" you questions don't really care to hear a real answer. <BR/><BR/>I agree with Katya.<BR/><BR/>Also, I'm still impatiently waiting to hear what the perfect man does that all others don't. If you ever want us to ride off with you into the sunset, you're going to have to throw us a bone.Saule Cogneurhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06539979684286065456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139173716782651862006-02-05T14:08:00.000-07:002006-02-05T14:08:00.000-07:00Yes, I saw it, too. '[T]was good, if I dare say s...Yes, I saw it, too. '[T]was good, if I dare say so. I tried to comment on it, but the same error that deleted the post also prevented me from commenting.ZeroSmythsonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11619898372145468752noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9100657.post-1139167491003683862006-02-05T12:24:00.000-07:002006-02-05T12:24:00.000-07:00Edgy would also like to stand as a witness as to t...Edgy would also like to stand as a witness as to the existence of the previous post.Christianhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02954160939175918093noreply@blogger.com