Sunday, October 29, 2006

Rose petals in our belly buttons? This is Ruobing and I at Lynchburg, VA in 2006. By the way, why are they called buttons if they are actually an unfilled space? Maybe before modern medicine they all used to be outies. We should call them antibuttons now. Take care touching an button to an antibutton. Why is Ruobing so proud of her handiwork?
Cherry-popping blog post...

Hi all. This is my first actual post, but the folder in which I keep drivel that is unworthy of sharing is full of half-finished rambling. I've started trying to write so many times that I have finally given up. No more drafts or editing. No more mission statements, or worrying about themes.

I'm listening to music on headphones, and it is 5:07AM on Sunday morning, Oct. 29th. Ruobing is asleep. I played some poker, and I'm tired as hell. But I promised myself I'd put something down tonight.

I live in this cool little town in central Virginia called Charlottesville. I wasn't born here, but I've lived here for more than half of my life, since I was 15. I got out for a bit, but the more I traveled the more I realized that there is nothing anywhere else in the world that I can't find in Charlottesville (well, unless I wanted money or fame). But I don't. I just want to draw a line from here until I die and never cross the unhappy axis. I want to make Ruobing happy and have a happy family. That's it.

I have been on a quest to find more friends for the last year or so. As I've gotten older, my tolerance for crazy people and idiots has waned, from low to completely nonexistent. When I was young/single there was a biological drive to go out, and the need to search for a partner is such powerful stuff that it drove me to do many things I have found I don't actually enjoy. Like drinking a lot in smokey bars and talking to egomaniacs about superficial things. When I was lonely, it was like my perspective was backlit by the need to find someone. When I finally did and the backlight faded away, I saw a different picture.

Now my idea of a fun night of socializing is sitting around with brilliant people and talking about everything. My friends are amazing but over time many of them have left to go fight dragons, or at least iguanae, in larger cities. We're down to just a few now here in Charlottesville and badly in need of new blood. If anyone knows smart people here - send them my way.

I had this idea that I could record some of the conversations with my friends - Ruobing, Dallas, Julian, Jarl...then transcribe them to here after. I keep forgetting to bring my recorder. I will get around to it soon and you'll see some cool stuff.

Writing what amounts to a free-form diary for publication online is a strange thing. I find myself editing my thoughts a lot - cutting out snippets because I don't want to offend someone that might read this. I have heard writers discuss this before. I am not sure where I'll land on this issue eventually. For now I'm going to be kind of conservative. I will post some fiction here and I might use that as a vehicle for things that could/will insult and embarass me or people I know.

Well, enough for now. I am going to stop writing and publish this damned thing. Time to break the seal and open the passage to a daily stream of golden consciousness. -A