Mugged by Reality

I’m lazy, and I haven’t the inclination to fill pages and pages with all the bollocks I haven’t mentioned lately. It has been an extraordinarily rough year replete with peaks of unparalleled delight and valleys of suicidal gloom. At least things are back to what passes for normal in my personal version of the game of life. So, we move ahead:

• I don’t want to be left out in commenting on the British bombings of last week. I know that area. The tube train that went up was the line my brother rode every day to work. The bus that went up was one I had ridden once upon a time. Despite our best efforts at ignoring reality it always comes along and bites us in the arse. Sure seems to our enemies like we’re at war, doesn’t it?
• But it must not seem so to us. I find it curious how quickly the London bombings are slipping off the front page in order to bring us the latest on hurricanes, dead kiddies, stupid blonde tourists and other worthless krep. Pity. I was really looking forward to the “CIA blew shite up to keep up the war!” theories being splashed all over the front page of the New York Times.
• I love the Red Sox but they’re going to have to do something about ticket scalpers. I don’t blanch entirely at paying a hundred bucks to sit in right field at Fenway. It is Fenway, after all. But selling out four games at Camden Yards with the lowest available ticket going for fifty bucks? This I have a problem with. I hate scalpers.
• Started packing and moving over the weekend. I am floored by the sheer amount of crap I have accumulated in only seven years. I’ve taken a carload and a truckload out of the house and have barely registered a dent in the detritus. Why do I have two gutted PC towers, a Performa, a PPC, two broken printers and assorted bits and pieces lying in corners? Where did all of this stuff come from? Where the hell am I going to put it? Who knows cheap help that likes to spend their days climbing stairs laden with boxes?

I am going to be a very happy man when life is slimmed down and manageable. I am going to try very hard to keep things slim. I don’t ever again want to feel trapped by my stuff. One vanload. That’s where I want to be. Can I keep it there? Where will I be without all my books?

Dammit. Tyler was right.