If I were… (pilfered from James D)

If I were a planet I would be Mercury, because even it never seems to know where it’s going.
If I were a month I would be August, not because I’m blisteringly hot, but because if it wasn’t annoying nobody would notice it was there.
If I were a day of the week I would be Thursday, just a bit too late for the hump.
If I were a time of day I would be 4:00am, storing up energy for a run at the unknown.
If I were a sea animal I would be an urchin, minding my own business until someone stepped on me.
If I were a direction I would be that way. No, the other way.
If I were a piece of furniture I would be a stepladder. Occasionally useful, but hard on the shins when it’s the middle of the night and you stumble into me.
If I were a sin I would be lust.
If I were a historical figure I would be Rasputin.
If I were a liquid I would be that annoying water in your ear after a shower that you just can’t get to come out.
If I were a stone I would be an opal, varying based on where you come at me from.
If I were a tree I would be an old oak with a rotten heart.
If I were a bird I would be a magpie. What out for your shiny stuff.
If I were a tool I would be that screwdriver in the drawer with a tip that works sometimes, but doesn’t really fit anything.
If I were a flower I would be a night-blooming jasmine, and day lilies could kiss my fragrant ass.
If I were a kind of weather I would be freezing rain.
If I were an animal I would be a badger. Not because I am, but because I’d like to be.
If I were a color or shade I would be a shade of green that there’s no Crayola match for, even in the big box with the sharpener on it.
If I were an emotion I would be disbelief.
If I were a vegetable I would be typing this with my tongue.
If I were a sound I would be that strange noise in the distance that was either a dog howling or an escaped animal from the zoo getting its first kill in years.
If I were an element I would be kryptonite.
If I were a car I would be a ‘71 Pinto with a spoiler and nitrous.
If I were a song I would be “Me Myself I” by Joan Armatrading.
If I were a movie I would be directed by Kevin Smith.
If I were a book I would be written by Dr. Seuss.
If I were a food I would be something that didn’t turn out anything like what you thought you’d ordered.
If I were a place I would be overrun with tourists for a season, after which I’d be passed over for newer and more exciting places, though there’d be a small core of visitors who’d love me enough to come back every year.
If I were a material I would be burlap: handy to have around but itchy as hell.
If I were a taste I would be bittersweet, with extra bitter.
If I were a scent I would be that smell that might be someone’s fireplace, or might be the garage burning down.
If I were a word I would be “mutable.”
If I were a body part I would be the left eyebrow.
If I were a facial expression I would be quizzical.
If I were a subject in school I would be creative writing.
If I were a cartoon character I would be L from Death Note.
If I were a shape I would be obtuse.

Of all the diversions of life, there is none so proper to fill up
its empty spaces as the reading of useful and entertaining authors.

- Joseph Addison

It’s been a hell of a couple weeks. I’ve been professionally violated by security and process auditors repeatedly over the span of the last few weeks, experienced one of the most exhausting on-call shifts ever last week, and have been running around in a seemingly endless state of tired and really annoyed for most of the month of October.

Since I haven’t had a chance to write much recently, I’m going to attempt to make up for it by directing you to the blogs of a couple people who have.

Drew’s Walkabout Blog

I’ve known Drew virtually for at least several months. Maybe longer; my sense of time has always been a little screwy. In any case, he’s a pretty amazing guy, and meeting him in person at this year’s Burning Man was definitely one of the high points of my trip.

Recently he’s been doing a trek to various fascinating parts of the globe and documenting them in his always very intelligent, insightful way, and I’ve really enjoyed keeping up with his travels. He’s also one hell of a photographer and his legs look amazing when he wears a skirt, but don’t tell him I said that.

World Wide Jeb

If you’re into queer, beer-swilling, Aussie metalheads, I have some good news: one actually exists. If you’ve ever followed that filtercore link at the bottom of the page you’ve already been introduced to the author of World Wide Jeb. He’s just started the latest incarnation of his blog, but I think I can guarantee it’ll be worth reading; Jeb is, without exaggeration, one of the most consistently hilarious writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. I have to be extremely drunk and have someone spin me around ten times and point me at a cliff before I get one-tenth as funny as Jeb is on an off day, and I’ll never look as good in a purple mohawk as he does. I secretly hate him for all of that, but he’s a great read anyway.

OK, that’s getting shut off. Thank you, Delicious, for clogging up my blog with a bunch of unreadable crap.

Nothing ever goes as planned
It’s a hell of a notion.

- Dennis De Young, Styx

The plan was to update this place at least a few times a week, but I’ve been sidetracked by a few things lately.

The biggest distraction has been a group of security auditors who have monopolized almost all of my time this week, and I’ve been so exhausted by the time I’m done with the daily interrogations that I’ve just got nothing left in me. I’ve been getting home and immediately wanting to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the night until it’s time to go to bed. I’ve been completely drained, and I can’t wait for the ordeal to be over.

I also have a confession to make. Another factor in my not showing up here is a gnome mage by the name of Imtrick, my new alter-ego on the Tichondrius server in World of Warcraft. I’d managed to not get tangled up with WoW for the first few years it was out, but I finally broke down and logged in, and by the second day I’d converted my demo account to a full one.

I’m not sure how far I’ll get with it, being basically too antisocial to group up with strangers most of the time, and that limits my ability to complete a lot of quests. I have, however, made it as far as level 33 so far and I’ve really been on a roll lately.

Unless, of course, I’m collapsed in a heap in the living room because I couldn’t make it upstairs to the bedroom.

Eagle Eye (the sidebar widget that shows up under the “Where Am I Now?” in my sidebar) has been added to the official plugin Directory at Wordpress.org.

It’s the first version of my first plugin, and though I’ve tested it in a couple places it wouldn’t shock me if it’s got a few ugly bugs. Let me know when you find ‘em.

“The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first: The odds for high and low’s alike”

- William Shakespeare

I had a bit of an epiphany last night. It was one of those moments when a few things I’ve never understood about myself suddenly came into very clear focus, and things just made sense. I’m not sure if I want to go into the details, or if anyone would even want to hear them. To me, though, it was something major. It’s not every day you have the answer to “why the hell do I do that?” handed to you in a way that makes perfect sense. It’s potentially life-changing stuff. We’ll see.

It was a big thing to me, and coming on the heels of my Burning Man trip I think my nerves were a bit more exposed today than usual, but in a curiously good way. I’m prone to long periods of numbness, and today I let it drop a little. The end result was that today’s high spots were a bit higher than usual, and the low spots a bit lower. One of the things I realized last night, though, is that those lows are the price of feeling. To reach the highs, I’ve got to be willing to endure the lows.

Over the years, I’ve put a lot of effort into avoiding those lows, and today I feel like I finally know why. A feels like a first step in letting go of that.

You should not see the desert simply as some faraway place of little rain. There are many forms of thirst.

- William Langewiesche

I felt really detached this morning, like my body was back in the real world, but my brain was still in a drug-induced haze somewhere out on the playa. There was a sense of unreality about everything, like I was an observer and everything else was shifted just a bit to one side of reality. Strangely, it was a feeling I rather enjoyed.

I wish I had a lot of pictures of my Burning Man exploits to post here, but I don’t. My phone’s battery died shortly after arriving, with the Jeep’s following shortly thereafter. Fortunately, I have friends with cameras, and I’m hoping to appropriate some of their work, which will surely be better than anything I could have done myself.

It may be a good thing that there’s not much photographic evidence. Despite plenty of assurances otherwise, I’m not really convinced I looked good in a makeshift miniskirt so short that my balls fell out of it every time I bent over or sat down.

It was really good to be back. The place is just as strange and overwhelming and freeing as it was 10 years ago, just much, much bigger. It still also feels very much like home to me, even after enough years that I’m old enough to single-handedly skew the median age by a year or two.

I’m sunburned and exhausted, my feet hurt, and the Jeep will probably never be clean again, but I’m also feeling mentally and emotionally recharged, and I’m very thankful for the great people I met out there in the Nevada desert, and for everything those people shared with me over the last week. I suspect it’ll take some time to really feel like a part of the default world again, but that’s OK with me. I think I’d like to keep carrying this little bit of unreality around with me as long as I can.

I may or may not be in this picture from Wired Magazine… I’m not sure if the guy near the back that looks like me is me or not, but it could be.

Had a great time at Burning Man; it’s as amazing as ever. I’m exhausted after the drive home, though, and I’d rather sleep (in a real bed… Yes!) than tell you about it. I will, however, mention that I have just had the best shower of my life.  It’s good to be home.

The first time I went to Burning Man, I had neglected to get a haircut before I went. My hair’s pretty thick (though a lot grayer than it was that trip), and in the desert heat I was sweating constantly. When I stumbled on a painted naked woman who was shaving heads, I couldn’t resist. Thus occurred the baldness incident of 1997.

I got it buzzed today to help me resist the temptation of doing it again. And to cut down on the sweat — but mostly just so I’m not bald when I come back.

The Jeep’s packed up, and I’m ready to go. This will probably be my last update here until after I’m playa-bound.

Excuse me while I get all bouncy and shit.