The mere notion that I think finding a fix for my WordPress problem is post-worthy demonstrates how minimal my aggregate technical knowledge is.
I’ve got an ever-expanding mass of stuff that I just don’t know. Half a lifetime ago, I had loads of potential to do something…who knows what that could’ve been.
I walk around with the weight of the…well, my world on my back. Opportunities lost. Self unchallenged. Undone by hypersensitivity, unrequited romantic zeal, and depression-induced paralyis. Year after year, the story remains virtually unchanged. The calendar flips. The animals are a little older. My kidneys lose a bit more function on the journey to survival through artificial means.
This is writing at 1:02AM, when I have been trying to focus my mind on the reasons why I am prone to feelings of self-loathing. I’m barely scratching the surface right now. It may be quite inappropriate for me to further brainstorming in front of this audience.
Three simply reasons for self-loathing today, May 28, 2010:
I take 5 months to fix a simple WordPress problem
My dog will need further dental work, and he’s probably been in great pain; maybe some minimal attempt to brush him over the past two years could’ve lessened his pain
Within 500 feet of my house are dozens of Duke grad students and global researchers who are saving the planet is some very cool and admirable way. I used to run a radio stream of love songs. I was the salutatorian at my high school who concluded his speech, “I love you all!” Four months later, Duke CAPS had to refer me on to the real Duke psych people to make sure I wouldn’t be jumping off any buildings.
Too much info for a blog posting.
Toastiest the blog…is what it is…
God, Flying Spaghetti Monster, Whatever…I am very lucky to have a remarkably supportive girlfriend in my life right now. K deserves a shout-out.
Functioning with so much self-loathing is a gigantic task.
I’ve got to head to nocturnal dialysis shortly, and after my first experience with that Tuesday night, I’m not really looking forward to it. So I’ve been on dialysis for almost a month, and I haven’t really written about what it’s like yet. I’ll have a post on that at some point soon.
For now, here’s more ancient history. Happier times. I think it was around 1982. It’s been all downhill since.
First person to correctly identify me wins…eternal recognition in the big blog cloud in the sky.
This is nursery school, by the way (I guess they call it pre-K these days).I think this is referred to as pre-school.
I’ve got these albums of photos that have never been digitized. No better time like the present to begin this project. (Well, maybe 5 or 10 years ago, but now is better than later).
UPDATE – Apparently, the Lane Robbins pre-school was founded by the man who has “the longest running national talk radio show“. (I’ve never heard of him until now).
9:22PM Indiana getting closer…Obama blowing out Hill in NC…
Durham BoCC looks to be decided.
Lots of local races and statewide races look headed for run-offs in June, where the demographics of the turn-out should be a lot different (based on voting patterns over the years and the lack of Barack Obama’s name on a June ballot).
So my own percentage of voting for winners was pretty poor tonight, but we don’t vote to pick the popular choice; we vote for whom we think best represents our hopes and beliefs. I’m happy with how I voted, with mixed feelings about the results.
I will slip back into meta-blogging mode now. I wonder if I’d be any good at blogging if I actually blogged about something I knew a lot about, something at least a few people cared about. I mentioned my WXDU DJ experience several weeks back. The happened back in 1994, after my first semester at Duke in ’93 when I was a newsreader. (I really wish at times, in all honesty, that I had gone to Northwestern. They’ve got a little journalism school there). It’s impossible to think back over that time and not have incredible regrets over actions and decisions that I made. I don’t look back and say it was all for the best, or that what happened made me stronger, or any of those cliched beliefs that I could try to use for comfort.
How do you mourn for past mistakes? Serious question, meant for another blog entry for another time, but I pose the question now, because I’m thinking it now. I know one answer would be to “pick myself up and forge a new path” or something like that. No, I’m still mourning, and my question is, how do I put that behind me? It’s actually a false question, in some ways, I think, in that I don’t really want to put it behind me. Having been a newsreader and a DJ are among the most interesting things I’ve ever done in my life, and there is some degree of pride in thinking about them. And pain. I’d prefer the latter were behind me.
Sorry this is not a “local blog” about local politics, as I’ve tried sheepishly to explain a bunch of times tonight. I just write. That’s all.