there was a nice post this morning on coding horror about desktops. i'm posting it here less because of the post and more because of the links to sites with desktops. i'm fairly picky about desktops — i like plain over flashy. too many colors and suddenly i cant see anything on there.

i went through the list that was posted and came away with a couple that get thumbs up from me:
k10 / ondisplay — i sometimes find nice ones and then photoshop out other peoples icons
mandolux — this guy gets how to do desktops. seriously.
damask wallpaper patterns — if you need a nice tiling pattern that looks like old wallpaper flourishes, this is where you want to be.
and then there is my old standby:
threadless — they make awesome desktops; simple colors, fun to look at and easy to handle.

so there. some ways to spruce up your workspace.

yesterday, i was hanging with the kurt and the keren and the mike and said how overwhelmed i am by the sheer number of people in the world. (skipping the part where i realize for the 100th time that usually the world feels very small to me.) a lot of this comes from realizing how much waste we contribute to every moment of our lives.

this list, depicting photos of waste, should help prove it to you. "…two million plastic beverage bottles, the number used in the US every five minutes."

it isn't just people i want to escape, it's this lifestyle. it's the fact that im drinking from a plastic water bottle right now. because i haven't gone out and bought myself a metal one to reuse. it's because i'm staring at an ipod and computers and plastic figures, all of which will outlive me.

it's overwhelming and exhausting.

i think it is obvious that i have to flee somewhere soon. since i'm broke and have no time off, my options are limited. ideas anyone?

and on a lighter note, perhaps you haven't seen how awesome i am at modeling. the model they used (behind me) has nothing on my skillz.

i need to lose weight.  that's the nicest way i can word the fact that i think that i am fat again.  i fell of the WW wagon awhile ago and …  kept falling.  i don't know why consistency is such an issue for me.  i don't know why i want to place the blame on external factors - living with todd, with zane, being in an elementary school, moving - and can't take the blame for my own stupid actions.

i do know that my lifestyle in new york was a ton more active than it is here - the daily walking coupled with not being in the car grabbing fast food or in general just eating while i am on the road.  i know that in new york every single piece of food in my apartment was chosen by me, for me, and with two other people now i can't force my dietary choices on them just to curb my lack of self control.  so yes, those are factors.  but i should be able to get past them and work with them and not just give in as i shove another bite of cheesy fat into my mouth.  i do not want to be battling this the rest of my life.

i am now basically half-responsible for the rearing of an almost-nine year old boy. after this week, zane will be with us full-time. we registered him for school today but this particular life change still has not entirely sunk in. the responsibility is an awesome one, and not one that i take lightly, but it's such a strange dynamic. i've babysat for over half my life and have been responsible for teaching other people's children for the last seven, but to actually be sharing a living environment with a kid is a whole 'nother ballgame - and one that is hard because i've arrived late.

if i had just had a baby, life would seem more logical, albeit more nuts. being a new mommy and figuring things out as you go along seem to be de rigeur. there are mommy groups and what to expect books that give you a blueprint, friends offering advice, and family eager to share the joy of an infant. it's crazy and confusing and a million other adjectives, i'm sure, but it's thr norm. parents do it. your parents did it, their parents did it, you'll do it one day if you're not doing it now. but an eight year old comes with a personality and emotions and life experiences and no instruction manual.

zane is a great kid in so many ways, but my heart aches for the ways i think he would be different had he been afforded a more stable childhood with a lot of the shitty parts Xed out. he's not very affectionate and i struggle not to take it personally. he's not mean or cruel or resistant, just kind of indifferent. not that it doesn't make sense for him to react with apathy. in fact, i'm probably lucky to even elicit that response. if nearly every woman i'd been exposed to in my life was loony tunes, or caused me harm, i don't know that i'd be anxious to open my arms to any new bitches, either.

with children, i'm used to warmth and love and affection and hugs, and for that not to exist in my relationship with a child who is so dear to me - it's a bastard of a horse-pill to swallow, but something i recognize i can't force. right now our tie exists through our love for his father, but i don't feel that zane and i have actually bonded. i've been reassured that this will come in time, but, not to overdramatize, but it doesn't make it any less painful for me at the moment.

I am a busy Hindu god. One hand holds a flower. And one hand holds a flaming golden axe, ready to cut down my enemies. One hand holds a pen to write my script. Another hand writes someone else's. Another hand types my emails. Another wipes a tear away for my doggies, who are far away and who I miss very much.

One hand vacuums the carpet, to keep the house looking nice for visitors who don't come. Another wipes the sweat off my brow for a job well done. One hand always stays on the wheel of my new truck, to keep me going in a straigt line. Another hand pops a Xanax into my mouth to twist me up a little. One hand holds a book I'm reading but not retaining. One hand scratches my ass. And one hand holds my genitals as I take the piss test.

Six more hands reach out for my friends, who I love very much and want to help be successful. Another hand is there for my new boss, and I'm grateful he likes my work. And another is there for my clients on the side. One hand is always there for my wife. I hope she takes it again someday and pulls me back into her life. Another hand lights a cigarette and pops the cap on a beer to help with the stress of it all. Another hand fucks with the radio knob to find a good song to pass the time. And my last hand waves away more barbeque ribs. Dear god, I can't take any more meat.

I've got two feet dug deep into the dirt, to hold me in place with so much pushing against me. My third eye is darting back and forth, alert for treacherous knaves. A single horn in the middle of my head points produly upward, and my trunk is wound around a delicious peanut.

Only one mind tries to keep track of it all. It can only focus on one at a time and it makes me so tired.

i'm on a pre-move visit to staunton. my dad didn't beat or disown me after the announcement that i will be living in sin and my world was appropriately rocked. in fact with his impetus i am getting my shit together in time to recoup an entire month's NY rent - roughly equivalent to about 3 months' worth here. this, however, entails seven days to pack up my cramped little BK abode and transporting it 6 hours southwest. maybe it's good because i won't have time to freak out. maybe.

It's a clear summer's evening sky. The overcast of the last few days has given us a respite for the evening so the stars can twinkle upon us.

It sounds nice, yes? But I know it's muggy out there and I cannot help but ponder why it is that summer and winter seem to drag on so, whilst autumn and spring flee after just a couple of weeks. Didn't these kinder seasons seem to linger longer when we were young?

I was holding Rebekah this evening, trying to soothe her; too tired to rest, too hungry to eat really. I suppose it gets that way sometimes when you're so new to this world and still trying to figure everything out.

She's begun to smile beneficently upon us at random moments. Which is a good thing, as we were close to putting her up on Craig's List if we didn't get some reciprocation soon. You only know the full love of your parents when you yourself are suffering through those first few months of feeding and soothing, with pretty much only soiled diapers in return. And even that's not all that bad, hard though it may be to make getting shat upon as a wondrous thing.

Sleep deprivation will inevitably do that to a person.

But as I was saying: I was holding her, looking at her as she belted out her cries and I flashed back to the drive to the hospital with Amy a few weeks ago. Headed for the c-section, she seemed to know it was time. Our little breech girl started hopping up and down in Amy's tummy, her little head pointed in the wrong direction.

"It's the other way!" I called.

That was two months ago. In that time, there've been two biopsies (both clear. Yay!), we found out we had termites, we got treated for termites, five different family members came to visit, Amy's recovered from the abdominal surgery, the cars have been in the shop, the roof got redone (two days home from the hospital), the siding got redone (one week home from the hospital), and Reed's had a full neurological work-up of MRI, EEG and EKG done (all clear. Thank you, Lord.). It's the 'little' things—like having children—that really let you know how fast life is happening. They give you daily markers of time's progress. They grow. They learn.

And one day, they smile at you.

A sweet lady octopus wrapped her tentacle around my arm and held tight. She kissed me with her soft and inky lips and squeezed ever tighter until I began to see ghosts. Slowly running venom inside of me from her tiny, tiny needles. I'll return when the swelling subsides and she'll be waiting to mark me again.

New ink. New life. New purpose. This human limb chained forever to an anchor on the ocean floor. A vision of the pirate's cutlass, and blood running down my arm into the sink. Cutthroats are among us every day. It's best to be strong, or to become one.

I've changed my destiny. Jumping from one dismal cage to another, slightly less dismal one. A change of scenery should do me good. It's a stepping stone to freedom and self sustenance. But there are many trials to pass first. A heavy torch to construct and carry for at least a year, yet I have already been running for five. A sword hangs above my head, bound by serpents. And a fervent warden eager to lock me down, is feverish for gratification. He has two names in one, and I have two lives in one. I will pick the next lock when the time is right. But for now, patience is golden.

Restraint will save my good time. Near misses fueled by alcohol threatened to drag me back into my shell, but I've remembered that it's better to learn to let go. Best to simply eat more bacon and only let those into my reality who deserve to be there. Once they're there, it's wise to never forget why they deserved it in the first place.

Learn a new skill. Find a new passion. Live your fantasies. Freelance on the side if you have to. Drink the finest liquor and smoke the best cigarettes while you're still young. Stay young. Be beautiful while you can. Wear bodage gear and use a ball gag if it suits. Family will support you always, and friends will give of themselves to show you where you want to go. You only need to ask. They will open new hidden doors, and keep you comfortable even as you dodge incoming arrows, nude, with hot lights pointed at you. They will process the photos if you choose to let them take some. If you're brave it will be worth your while, and it will open your eyes.

Indeed, "what the hell" is often the right answer.