Joined the gym yesterday.
I left feeling pumped, elated, recharged, energized, all those happy “life is good”, I’m feeling alive for the first time in years feelings.
Today I returned. My noon boxing class had been canceled so I just did my assigned cario routine. I pushed myself – doing two minutes extra on each machine. Watching the cute girl on the stairmaster across from my bike did, admittedly, help me push through the extra time.
Afterwards I felt like I’d been… I don’t know. Not hit by a truck. Not drugged. Not beaten. None of those quite hits it.

It’s amazing how simple things can make someone totally happy.
I just came across a bunch of CDs that I’d forgotten about… One of them contained a song that I haven’t heard in ages. Listening to it made me stupidly happy; I remembered using the song in a lighting project in college; I sang along to it repeatedly for about fifteen minutes. Danced around the kitchen singing.
Tonight I spent the evening on a couch with a six-year-old, watching Finding Nemo. There’s nothing like blowing a little kid’s mind by simply reciting a few movie quotes in time with some tropical fish.

So much importance is placed on stuff and events and other people, it’s easy to forget how unnecessary all of it can be. And actually, how all of it can really get in the way. When you can find joy in the singing of a song, you’ll never be dependant on anyone or anything else for your happiness…

Lately I’ve been unable to sleep. This is not only frustrating – sleeping has always been one if my great skills – but it’s also debilitating. When I don’t get enough sleep I get physically ill.
I was up until one this morning. I was exhausted, but just couldn’t stop reading.
Now it’s four thirty and I’m not just awake, I’m wide awake.
Had one spectacularly disturbing dream, in which I watched a beautiful woman die horrifically in a bizarre car race crash (it involved driving tiny stock cars up and down tight crevaces, lots of snow, one of those planes that lands in the water, baby bok choy, and a contest that hinged on buying a green sweater. I don’t pretend that my brain makes any sense whatsoever.)
All back to the point that I’m now awake when I should be asleep.
This past week was filled with night after night of insomnia-ish-ness. Either I couldn’t fall asleep, and lay there for hours, or I’d wake up at four thirty from a strange-ass dream and be unable to get back to sleep.
I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s getting real old real fast…

I left my doctor’s office and was sitting in the car, listening to a voicemail message, when I realized there was a rabbit hanging out on the lawn in front of me.
No matter how long I spend in suburbia things like this still seem wholely unnatural to me. Deer and wild turkeys (as opposed to the tame ones, I suppose) wander past my office window year-round and I’ve stopped noticing how many raccoons, possums, and squirrells lay on the sides of the roads. Spiders are commonplace in my day-to-day life and the god damn birds still wake me up at dawn.

Take me back to the land of tiny mice, giant rats, dingy squirrells, and nothing but roaches. Birds should have gnarled stumps for feet, creepy dead eyes, and “coo” in ominous gargles.
Am I romanticizing nyc wildlife too much?
Possibly.
But really, I’m not cut out for this Bambi and Thumper crap. I think it’s time my jungle turns back into concrete.

sitting in the car, listening to the rain pound down on the roof.
I was just thinking about my life, right now and in general. For the first time in about six years I don’t feel desperation clawing away inside of me. Not for security, affection, love, tenderness, a touch. Not for the feeling of being wanted. And it’s not because I necessarily have those things and therefore don’t feel the need for them; I think I may just finally be okay on my own.

Yes… I woke up at 7am sharp this morning so I’d have time to watch the second installment of Dr. Horrible before heading off to work.

I’m moving at the end of the month.
So, I’ve started packing.

I guess my life really can be summed up by a closer look at the contents few boxes that I’ve begun to work on tonight…

I am enthralled.
What follows is my breakdown of the night’s events.

Alicia Keys manages to look good while balancing a giant croissant made of hair on top of her head. I’m less moved by the duet with Sinatra than I am by the piece of cloth conspicuously missing from the front of her dress.

I’ve come to realize that I have too much crap. Not just the… stuff… that fills the boxes that I have crammed under the bed, or that cascades down from the shelf up above the sagging pole in the closet.

I mean crap throughout every aspect of my life.

in response to a post on the “Gaytheists” thread, found through http://ebayatheist.blogspot.com/ …

I wanted to take a moment to respond to your post, primarily with a few questions of my own.
Based upon what you wrote, I gather that you are heterosexual because you a) grew up seeing that as being the normal, accepted way of being and b) had an organ that “fit” with another organ for the purpose of sexual reproduction.
I would like to ask you when and why you chose to be heterosexual though. Was it simply for the convenience of it?
Now that homosexuality is much more accepted, will you choose to become homosexual?