Wow. Four Years. Time Flies When You're Having Fun.

 So, nothing to get excited about. I just out of the blue decided to resurrect this thing. I don't know how long I'll fiddle with it. I can count on one hand the amount of actual writing - as opposed to just blogging - that I've done since the last entry, but what the hell, eh?

 Anyhow, an update. It is now 2018. I moved back home back in March, & when I say back home I mean it. I'm currently sitting in my boyhood bedroom in rural Northeast Mississippi. Long story short, I have had a rough four years. The girlfriend & I split up, I was run off from the good job, my dad died, I spent 10 days in the hospital due to severe hypertension, & New Orleans successfully kicked the shit out of me. So, deciding that not only could I not keep on going as I was & that I couldn't effect the lifestyle change I desperately needed while working 40 hours a week in a job I hated, I gave in & moved back in with Momma.

 Since then, I've been dealing with my health issues, both physical & mental (dysthemia & Seasonal Affective Disorder), helping Momma (who's also got some health issues & isn't a spring chicken herself) & my extended family, & trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I still have Otis, the Jack Russell, to brighten my day, & my life is enriched by Bounce, the Grey Cat. Otis loves me, Bounce loves, Otis hates cats, & Bounce likes screwing with him. We put a fence around the front yard so Otis could spend some outside time & Bounce likes to lay out in the sun just outside the fence to screw with him. Cats, what can you say?

 I've looked into various jobs but without much enthusiasm. Frankly, I'm not working myself to death so some asshole who's got too much money already can buy a new car every two years. Nor am I going to put myself into a position where being able to eat means up putting up with shit from jackasses who don't understand they're not the lead character of any story. I don't have to anymore & it just isn't worth it.

 Of course I'm not happy about moving back home. When I moved out of the house at 18, I told myself that having to move back home was a mark of failure. Maybe that's so, but my life's gotten more screwed up than flattened horse shit & I really didn't have much a choice. Momma's been good about everything, so has my extended family, & that's made it easier. I originally intended to be gone by May, then August, then the first of 2019, but I don't know when or if I ever will. I've come to the point in my life where I don't need anything I can't get in Peaceful Valley apart from faster internet & regular access to good weed. Even then, I can adjust.

 So, my days consist of breakfast, going to the gym, hanging out with my varmints (plus Momma's dog Fuzzy), doing the online things, playing video games (after a 20 year absence), helping my family when they need it & staying out of the way when they don't. We live way out in the boonies, we're financially secure, & it's not all that bad. After living in NOLA, there's something to be said for the quiet life. Plus, it puts me in the position to travel more. I've visited NOLA & Athens, & I have plans to see my brother in Oregon & a buddy in Brooklyn.

 I'm also trying to figure out to get back into writing, which is partly what this is for. I don't know what I'm going to do, though. I don't really have a knack for fiction, but I do have some ideas kicking around my head. I don't want to get back into music criticism nor do I want to write about the depressing world of politics. Be honest, I don't much care to get back into pure journalism at all, not in any form or fashion, mainly because I absolutely don't want to have to talk to people. Like, at all. I'm not sure if that's a temporary aspect of my struggle with depression or just the real Matt coming out & settling down. I haven't wanted to talk to anyone for a while, & really don't these days outside of doctors, therapists & family members.

 While visiting Athens, I touched base with a friend who's starting a business that provides content for web pages. He knows what I'm going through & said that when I'm ready, he might have some work for me. That's an idea, & it'd be nice to bring in a little money for something I've always been decent at. Maybe that's something to work towards, & using these blogger doo-dads to back into fighting shape.

 And so much for all that. I've wandered away from this a couple time & find myself getting bored with the whole process. It's tougher to write when you don't have something to write about, I suppose. Anyhow, this may be the first of many or I might not put anything here for another four years. Does anyone still use Blogger? Who knows.

Yeah, don't get excited...

 Nothing serious going here. I just wanted to have something posted in 2014 and I wanted it posted before a year had past since my last post. Don't ask me why, the urge to do strange, silly things for no good reason that don't matter a'tall just pops up from time to time, and from even rare times to times, I'll run with it. But, since we're here, let's see where we are.

And it was such a nice day.

 I've been trying to process this all weekend. I still haven't wrapped my head around it, not really. I was driving to the Speedee place to get my oil changed, and realize I needed to be on Elysium rather than Esplanade, I cut through Treme, right through this neighborhood. It was really close.

 You know, as this was going on - and after I'd already called her for the day - my mother texted me and asked if we were close to these shootings. It had already made the national news. I texted her back and lied, writing that, no, I was nowhere near where that was going on, when in fact, I was very close indeed. 

  I also didn't tell her about the guy who got mugged a month or so back on my Otis-walking route, nor did I tell her about the dude who was shot last year right down the street trying to break up a car jacking. I don't tell her that as often as not I hear gunshots, especially when I'm staying in the Bywater but also when I'm at my place in the Point. I really don't want her to worry.

 This has apparently shocked New Orleans, which in and of itself is pretty goddamn shocking. This is a town that wears its inherent dangers almost as a badge of honor, and at the very least it's an accepted if regrettable part of life in the town. But this event has people angry and scared. Maybe something will come out of that. Maybe it will shake the town and the government out of its complacency and start doing something constructive. Maybe.

 I remember not long ago discussing "beefs" with the lads, and how that the second line used to be one of the few places even someone with an active beef could go and they probably wound't be shot.  The lads were saying how that's no longer the case, that you could get shot just as easily at a parade or a second line as you could outside the club. I guess not.

  The NOPD say they have a suspect they're looking for and there's a picture and I'm sure he'll be caught soon. What were you thinking, kid, whatever convinced you this was a good idea. Could we please just stop with the guns and killing, just for a little while? This really doesn't even fall into the whole nation-wide debate we're having over how terrified some folks are that we might think their penises are tiny, it's more just a plea for a friggin' break, you gutless wonders. Stop shooting people.

 Thankfully, most importantly, no one was killed.

Some stand-up must have said something stupid.

 All the signs are there, but I am getting them from a weird stroke. It's a bit unsettling, actually, because it means that I'm so out of touch that I've missed the actual Five W's of the situation - and frankly, I could care less - but I am so familiar with the scenario that I can recognize the faintest traces, like a grizzled ol' scout sniffing a bent branch for the tell-tale sign of grizzly pee.

May 9-10

 Random gibberish below, just sort of felt like it, don't get excited.

So that was the Singularity.

 I've promised myself all month that I'd write some little something, no matter how trivial - and let's face it, it's all trivial - if for no other reason than to just, once again, "keep my hand in". And all month, this or that has given me the opportunity to put it off. Frankly, I think this experiment is a failure.

 Oh, sure, there's plenty to write about. Gun wienies showing their final colors. My conversion to Apple and any possible connection to Discordianism or the Illuminati. Family to and fro. Work, and considerations thereon. The year in review and whether it was worth reviewing. The never-ending unwinding of Tight-Assed White People and Real American Conservatives, often but not always one and the same. The complete failure of anything noticeable happening Saturday a week back and them that championed that stroke's continuing failure to have any sense of shame whatsoever. Cute stories about the dog.

 Lots of stuff, but I just don't feel the urge. It's not that I'm blocked, I am just far too tired, mentally and physical, to fool with it. There's other nonsense that tugs on my attention, both mentally and physically. I just don't feel like a writer these days, I suppose. I don't feel like a philosopher or a cook, neither, for what it's worth. I feel like a boyfriend but it feels weird and a bit unsettling. Still not sure how I feel about being a dog owner, but I don't mind it so much.

 So there's that. See ya in 2013. Maybe.

No excuses

 This entry is just so I have something for November. Obviously, I haven't written anything since the end of October, and I'd at least like to get one thing a month in, at the very least. And this is the very, very least.

Some things are just mysteries.

 I like to know things. Nothing serious, I just like to know what it is I'm dealing with. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of scenarios I prefer to remain in total ignorance about - my co-workers' love lives, for instance - but for the most part when I'm confronted with an unfamiliar concept, I remain uneasy until the mystery is cleared away.

I always feel like, somebody's watching me.

 Some years ago when I still lived in Athens, an issue came up in front of the City Commission. To wit, there was a push by certain parties to ban smoking in restaurants and bars. There was a good bit of push against it, naturally, from club owners worried about profits to smokers pissed off about losing critical smoking space. Something like 300 people - and I am probably misremembering that number - turned up at the vote to voice their disapproval. It passed regardless.

That's just how it is sometimes.

 Some more random gibberish to keep my hand in. I recommend you read a good book instead.