C'mon man, just one more hit...

This blogging business is crack. Internet crack. Creative, mentally massaging, carpal tunnel inducing, Internet crack. It's even done in lines like crack. You could even go so far as to compare font size to granular dimensions. What does "cut" and "paste" remind you of but a razor blade. And the mirror? Well, turn your monitor off, stare at the dark, depressing reflection, and your ready for another hit.

I'm exhausted from running non-stop for about two weeks now, but am I getting ready for bed? No, I'm checking my blog, reading other blogs, commenting on blogs...basically thinking when I should be shutting my brain down.

I blame my sister.

"Today on the FBI's 10 most wanted: Scarletvirago, critical mastermind, exceptional mother, and Internet crack dealer to the stars. Tune in to see how she helped expose her dear, sweet, innocent brother to a life of sleeplessness, writer's cramp, and developmental brain activity centered around the world of Internet blogging! *BUM-BUMMMMMM!!!*"

It's a sickness...

And the winner is?

I like the fall. Pretty leaves, cool crisp air, warm and tasty drinks, cozying up with my Sweetheart. I like it, really.

Except every four years wherein I will no doubt be, randomly and repeatedly, assaulted with the popular ice-breaking question, "so who are you voting for?"

Now I used to really care about this question. Being a vet, I felt that I had done something to actually earn my vote (before you get your panties in a twist, I'm not saying I felt that one must be a vet to earn it, just that it should be earned in some way other than being born within a certain range of longitude and latitude, i.e. on American soil). I have since relaxed about it and have a much less obsessive opinion about voting; this annoys people sometimes. I enjoy that feeling.

So, someone goes and asks that rhetorical question about voting plans and I respond with, "I live in California, so my vote doesn't matter." This elicits one of a few different responses:

1. The person I am conversing with says, "well the electoral system does dominate the voting process, however [fill in with your choice of intelligent political banter]". We then go on to have an intelligent and enjoyable conversation, with or without opposing views and feelings, regarding politics and government and economics. The ghosts of the founding fathers tingle for that brief moment with that delightful feeling that comes with a job well done. I walk away from the exchange happy to have had it and liking that person more, regardless of whether or not we had a consensus of opinion, because intelligent and open conversations are so rare in this world where everyone is so afraid of violating the PC anti-free speech laws. My Grandmother holds first place in this category of personal interaction (God bless her!), for those keeping score.
   
   
2. Or, the person looks at me with a deer in the headlights stare, tilts their head toward their dominant side and says, "what do you mean?" I then go on to explain, because I love helping to enlighten people, about how the electoral system works (or doesn't, depending on your angle) and why, in an extreme state like California, a vote can be meaningless as anything more than a silent waste of personal expression and gas. We may or may not get into a conversation then regarding politics and government and economics and I may or may not walk away feeling better for having had that conversation, depending on how open to conversation the person is. Note: open to conversation is not the same as being open-minded, and being open-minded is not the same as being empty-minded, although the far-left whack-jobs would love for you to believe that it is.
   


3. OR, the person lets out a horrendous gasp reminiscent of one that you would hear if you said that their baby wasn't cute then bit the head off of a kitten and spit it at them (the baby, not the person), ruffles their feathers and shouts, "THAT'S RIDICULOUS! OF COURSE OUR VOTE COUNTS! DON'T YOU WANT THINGS TO BE BETTER?!?!" They then spend five minutes explaining to me why their candidate of choice, political party of choice, and general view of government is the better one as though that would change the facts of how the system operates. More than likely they will throw in a few lines about what a terrible state the country is in right now to try and frighten me into a sheepish political viewpoint and how voting like them is the only way to change it.

When they, inevitably, pause to see if my face betrays any sign that their passion has swayed me uncontrollably to their side of the fence, I take that moment to wish I had a nice, large, hardcover political science book that was chock full of information. Then I imagine beating them in the face with it until the text rubs off onto their skin and some fraction of the knowledge contained within the volume is pounded, just a little deeper than their chosen political affiliation's propaganda, into the silly-putty they refer to as a brain.

I am not anti-voting mind you; the people of America having the option to vote is what makes this country what it is, for better and for worse (to be discussed another time: how democracy leads to its own downfall). I just have a solid understanding of how the voting process operates and realize that, because California is SO far left, a moderate and objective vote - such as mine, most likely - means nothing in this sea of liberal voters. That's just how it is, and that's okay. I choose to live in California so that is part of the package. That's the glory of how our government is set up; states are like their own little worlds and everyone that wants to live in a similar fashion, within nationally-sanctioned moral boundaries, can get together and say, "this is how we do it here. If you don't like it, move!" Now, if I was living in a swing state, it would be different. But I'm not, so it's not. But it's funny how accepting that I live in an all-or-nothing, socio-fascist, massive majority liberal state - and being open-minded and accepting of that - is somehow offensive to said liberals; the irony is painful.

Which brings me to my opinion on a "none of the above" vote. I firmly believe that there should be a check box (or touch button) labeled "None of the above". If that check box is selected more than either candidate, the executive office is then handed over to the Board of Directors of Google for thirty days. In that time, both parties must select new candidates - the previous candidates may not be included, since they failed to sway the public already - and at the end of thirty days the country has another go of it. Repeat as necessary. Should this need to be repeated more than three times, the Google B.o.D. are appointed "president" until the next normally scheduled presidential election. Oh yes, and Microsoft is given control of the military; hey, checks and balances need to be in place, don't they?

We returned for this? I want my money back...

WARNING: Extreme bitterness ahead! Watch for falling expletives, combustible rants, cynical cliches and the mass dumping of pessimism. That, and this post is fucking long.

Hey, I've got to get this shit off my chest somehow so that I can laugh at it, and this is as good a place as any!

So our trip was a freaking blast! 48 hours, 780 photographs, and more money than I care to think about made a 5 year anniversary trip totally worth it! Well, it was a 5 year only legally. My Sweets and I have been together for 7, no splitting up, no "we were on a break" issues, nothin'! So, we actually consider this our 7 year anniversary. Like I said about my marriage before: cynics can fuck off. We're the ones doing it - if we say 7, it's 7.

The trip began with 3.5 hours of breaking the speed limit and making tree-huggers and global warming doomsayers worldwide bawl like babies at our careless use of liquified deceased dino-guts. Then again, we were driving a Honda Civic, so maybe they just got a little miffed. The company couldn't have been better and we laughed and photographed our way to the coast, turning just before being swallowed up by the ominous marine layer hovering over the mountains like the alien warships in Independence Day. We arrived just before our asses became totally numb and killed time on Cannery Row until our room was ready, checked in, oo'd and awe'd at the view, killed more time, then went to dinner. There, my smoking-hot wife and I enjoyed a tasty fillet mignon and chicken risotto. The venue, Cibo (pronounced, Chee-bow) was a bit less intimate than I would have preferred, but was very nice nonetheless; highly recommended.

I had asked the owner to have the evening's musical talent, Nadia and the Highlights, dedicate a song to us and what I got was even better: the singer came over and chatted with us, took a picture for us, congratulated us and wished us a nice visit. It was very pleasant how personal it was. When there was a gap in the flailing about of caucasoid limbs, my wife and I took to the dance floor and butchered a rumba, and had a great time doing it.

The next day involved a lot of walking, fun at the shops, biking about 4 miles on a surrey, lunch at an adorable little cafe that was popular among far more people than it could seat legally, and a nice visit to the aquarium where I took full advantage of my camera's aquarium settings and got some decent shots of jellyfish. Of course, I know my sister will want to vomit at the amateur status of these shots, but I'm proud of myself for just being able to tell what's in them! A quick trip to fisherman's wharf and a caricature later and we were on our way home. We left at 8:30, you do the math - I was not in a good mood the next day, what with having to be up at 6 am to go to work and all.

The cynicism comes into play upon our return. We suddenly have to return to work, chores, errands, money....real fucking life! Yeah, I know, "that's reality, deal with it." And I am, it just sucks and I don't want to. I want to enjoy my job, not keep myself awake on the trip home by thinking of ways I can injure myself "accidentally" that would be non-critical and recoverable but serious enough that I could get out of work.

Perhaps it would help if you knew a little bit about what I was dealing with at my place of employment. I'll keep it simple because the only thing worse than my job is explaining it to someone. I'm an Army vet (did my four years), I have an A.S. in Social Sciences and a B.S. in Business Management. I wanted to get into IT so I tried everywhere and finally got a job right after graduation doing admin for the IT department of a third party administrator for health care benefits and no, I won't bore you with what that is. Six weeks later they had an opening for a more technical position and saw my talents for organization and detail as a good fit, so they "laterally promoted" me (new responsibilities, a huge chunk of liability, and more ass-chewings than are logical but no immediate increase in pay) with the assurance that I could expect my salary to go up much faster in this new position. This was my first lesson; never do SHIT unless you're getting appropriately compensated for it. See, I'm learning and benefiting from the promotion already.

Basically, from there it was me learning the position, me making the position even better, me learning new skills that went well beyond my position, me improving the position even more, then them giving me a lousy 3.5% raise which, while you're not entitled to know my annual salary, I will tell you is absolute piss.

And from there, it's been the same thing. Every day. The same file names, the same contacts, the same psychotic fire-breathing bi-polar spawn-of-Satan boss looming overhead just waiting for someone to make an error so she can take out her aggression which stems from compensation issues relating to her feelings of a severe lack of self-efficacy. Family members have commented that my hair has turned darker; I tell them that's because the only sunlight that my cube is exposed to must pass by my boss first, where it promptly gets sucked into the black void that floats around her.

But it's not just work. There are other issues right at the moment, ones I won't get into here because they are too private and kind of scary. Suffice to say, they make me angry, scared and they definitely stress me out.

And this is what we came back for?!? Like I said, I'm dealing; I just don't wanna! I have great things to think about in my life, it's just that they come up so much less often than the stressful things. Why is that?

There, I feel better, thanks for listening.

Do I smell fish?

We're back, we're exhausted, we had an unbelievably great time! :)

More to follow after work (bleh...).