The end of a lame career, medical nonsense, medieval debauchery, and the persuit of happiness
Again, it has been a long time since my last post. Many important and perhaps fate-rendering events and developments have visited the home of my life's day-to-day, some invited and some unexpected, but all welcomed and offered civil company. I feel busy and bewildered.
I have officially resigned from my programming job, after three years of sudden maturity, discovery of mostly yet unlearned knowledge, anxiety, annoyance, dangerous plans, fizzled efforts, mild/incredible confusion, disappointment, squandered energy, wasted time, invalid egotism, and a myriad useless apologies on all fronts. This phase of my career is over and done with - I have nothing further to express other than my grudged appreciation.
The day I turned in my badge and office key was busy beyond just that! I also had my first appointment with a neurologist, which proved to be far more consequential than I had expected. What followed was an immediate (out of prudence, not necessary haste) blood test (my fourth one this year!) and the scheduling of an electromyogram (nerve-conduction test), and up to two sleep studies. I'm gonna be hooked up to electrodes and poked at! Jesus flapjack-flipping Christ! More on this after the fact.
That same day, my mother, my brother, and I left for Pennsic 36! I drove most of the way, subjecting my dear mother to The World/Inferno Friendship Society, and Infected Mushroom via the stereo. She picked out The Doors from my collection of CDs though, which was pretty cool. During this time, my brother sat in the back with headphones on, completely ignoring us.
Pennsic this year was rather lazy and flaccid. Most of the time I spent in camp, reading. I meandered around the market place a good amount and bought myself and some friends some small items. I went to only one class, on astrolabes, which was unfortunately boring and ill-prepared. I ate a lot: my diet subsisted mainly of trail-mix and the like. I also drank a good bit: cider, beer, wine, margarita, and honey-vodka. I think that I spent about two-thirds of my conscious time at Pennsic either hung-over or drunk. Which thirds of any conscious period should be obvious. The last night I spent at Pennsic was our traditional Celtic Happy Hour at our camp. There were stories, margaritas, delicious salty snacks, and a whole roast pig with all the trimmings! Really, that shin-dig made the whole week worthwhile. My brother and I returned home the next day. Out of insistence, my brother drove the whole way. We spoke little to each other, mostly arguing about what music to play and what an appropriate volume is for various strains of artistically crafted sound salads. He wanted to listen to piano concertos, particularly those he is learning or plans to learn. I wanted to listen to Skinny Puppy and Shpongle. He hates everything I listen to.
I'm becoming pretty sure that my brother despises me for some secret reason(s).
I've been home only a couple of days, but a lot has happened. I don't feel like writing about any of it - for some things, out of disinterest; for others, I feel that LJ is an inappropriate medium to express my emotions; for yet others, sheer laziness.
I think some casual, but determined soul-searching is in order, and what better tools for introspective epiphanies than psychedelic drugs?
The human imagination is simultaneously the most productive, enlightening, amusing, euphoric, and damaging force that I've ever encountered. It is a thing that I hold sacred and also fear intensely and I hope, hope, hope! that my own does not eradicate me, my potential, and my happiness.
I have officially resigned from my programming job, after three years of sudden maturity, discovery of mostly yet unlearned knowledge, anxiety, annoyance, dangerous plans, fizzled efforts, mild/incredible confusion, disappointment, squandered energy, wasted time, invalid egotism, and a myriad useless apologies on all fronts. This phase of my career is over and done with - I have nothing further to express other than my grudged appreciation.
The day I turned in my badge and office key was busy beyond just that! I also had my first appointment with a neurologist, which proved to be far more consequential than I had expected. What followed was an immediate (out of prudence, not necessary haste) blood test (my fourth one this year!) and the scheduling of an electromyogram (nerve-conduction test), and up to two sleep studies. I'm gonna be hooked up to electrodes and poked at! Jesus flapjack-flipping Christ! More on this after the fact.
That same day, my mother, my brother, and I left for Pennsic 36! I drove most of the way, subjecting my dear mother to The World/Inferno Friendship Society, and Infected Mushroom via the stereo. She picked out The Doors from my collection of CDs though, which was pretty cool. During this time, my brother sat in the back with headphones on, completely ignoring us.
Pennsic this year was rather lazy and flaccid. Most of the time I spent in camp, reading. I meandered around the market place a good amount and bought myself and some friends some small items. I went to only one class, on astrolabes, which was unfortunately boring and ill-prepared. I ate a lot: my diet subsisted mainly of trail-mix and the like. I also drank a good bit: cider, beer, wine, margarita, and honey-vodka. I think that I spent about two-thirds of my conscious time at Pennsic either hung-over or drunk. Which thirds of any conscious period should be obvious. The last night I spent at Pennsic was our traditional Celtic Happy Hour at our camp. There were stories, margaritas, delicious salty snacks, and a whole roast pig with all the trimmings! Really, that shin-dig made the whole week worthwhile. My brother and I returned home the next day. Out of insistence, my brother drove the whole way. We spoke little to each other, mostly arguing about what music to play and what an appropriate volume is for various strains of artistically crafted sound salads. He wanted to listen to piano concertos, particularly those he is learning or plans to learn. I wanted to listen to Skinny Puppy and Shpongle. He hates everything I listen to.
I'm becoming pretty sure that my brother despises me for some secret reason(s).
I've been home only a couple of days, but a lot has happened. I don't feel like writing about any of it - for some things, out of disinterest; for others, I feel that LJ is an inappropriate medium to express my emotions; for yet others, sheer laziness.
I think some casual, but determined soul-searching is in order, and what better tools for introspective epiphanies than psychedelic drugs?
The human imagination is simultaneously the most productive, enlightening, amusing, euphoric, and damaging force that I've ever encountered. It is a thing that I hold sacred and also fear intensely and I hope, hope, hope! that my own does not eradicate me, my potential, and my happiness.