arrested development

i was househunting over the internet today. beachfront real estate. preferably in mass or maine. the prices ranged from abt USD 300,000 to 8 mil. but the one i liked was usd349,000. it stole my heart. the stuff dreams are made off. right on the sandy beach, steps away from the ocean.
thing is i am as far away from being in the market for a house as is humanly possible to be. i got no money, no steady income source, no plans for the future, no equities, as virtual c's wv friend said once, in a drunken, naked moment of extraordinary lucidity. these are but a few of the obstacles in my way to buying a house - actually in my way to becoming a grown up. and yet, 'a house of one's own' (u c, 'a room' will no longer do) is what i want most in life. other people want wondrous, glamorous things such as great loves, great hair, white teeth. i want a place to call home. to set down roots. finally.
fuad, my classmate from transportation course, is trying to launch himself in the real estate business. he asked me the other day in his laboured english: so, would you like to take a house? it was rather sweet. for him to ask me in a way as if i were choosing a spouse in the middle ages. i wish i could tell him how ridiculous it was for him, how ominous in all honesty, to start a sales pitch with as rootless a rolling stone as myself.
sheesh... i need to haul ass from this place. i need to ...start my life. move into a place where i can paint the walls any color (for now, orange) i like and buy my own furniture. own a car. how does it feel? that life of mortgages, dishwashers, car payments, linen closets, bird baths, dry cleaning, tax deductions, 401k, health insurance with dental, minivans, sam's club, car seats, spas, basements, lawn mowing, newspapers... how does it feel to be an adult?
the quizilla quiz on what psych disorder are you - i got be:
PARANOID: whoa, calm down…while it may seem very real that everyone is conspiring against you, possible trying to kill you in horrible ways you cannot even begin to imagine, the odds of its likelihood are probably less that 1%.But that tiny little percentile haunts you, and you take every suspicious action (even and ESPECIALLY those from loved ones) the wrong way. When someone loses your trust, they lose it forever. .

they know what they are talking abt. hell yeah.

thoughts on stone

as i was walking back from lunch with vervono, i spotted some words scrawled in yellow chalk on the pavement near the lookout point (overlooking the toxic river) where we pass by every afternoon. the gardening crew has been hard at work there - planting the seasonals. there are some daffodils still persisting. i guess the rains have something to do with their unusual lifespan this year. the irises are however long gone. the begonias are withering, the other (wild)flowers i cannot name. but getting back to the message on the concrete, it said:

"take time to smell the flowers -->" (the arrow pointing to the flowers on the side)

and i did. not that flowers in america have any discernible smell generally, but it's the thought that stopped me: someone bothered to write about flowers.
it's at times like these that i miss having my nikon coolpix the most. soon the rain will wash this away. as we were getting inside our bldg we could feel the wind pick up - as it does before a tropical summer thunder storm.. this is hardly a tropical zone but the weather's been crazy this year.

i miss home when the wind picks up like that. and the smell of the sodden earth permeates the air. and the sky goes ashen within minutes. and bits of trash and discarded paper scraps start to fly. and people on the streets seem antsy to get to cover. but some among them - like myself - feel a swelling inside - like something warm. an anticipation of release.

humming: ain't no sunshine
reading: the nation (news mag)

running on empty

last afternoon's lunch was not half as bad as i had anticipated it to be. pleasant surprise. there were no prying questions (e.g., what have u done so far? what are you going to do next? etc) which make me intensely uncomfortable. as if i have to justify to the askee that i have been useful.
we talked about movies - and the most intriguing comment was from ol frogger who was talking about matrix reloaded and said: "i liked the part that they filmed in zion most. esp. the love scene - which i thought was very tastefully done." needless to say this blew me away. i have never had a conversation with him about anything other than work and that also mostly consisted of him chewing me out for my incompetence. from all that we make one big leap to tasteful love scenes... can't say it wasn't funny.
one chapter in my wv life is now over. onward and upward? we'll see..
humming: moonlight kiss (bap kennedy)
reading: cien anos de soledad

ps - remembered to call mom on her birthday. last year this day i was home. well, we will have to get to all that soon enough. but not yet. not yet.

farewell..

what splendid news should greet me this morning but that my colleagues have decided to throw me a farewell party tomorrow afternoon. instantly my mind is abuzz with this word: RUN.. i can't say it often enough how much i dread such social occasions. they are just as much fun as a root canal. major white teeth alert. alarm bells activated inside head. life jacket inflated. prepare to abandon ship.
outwardly, i am resigned to it. i have to be. one does not have the luxury of choice in such matters. i know all that, i am wise enough about life's little compromises (and sacrifices). but still... i won't... i won't do it again, i promise...let me go. let me go!.
So time to take a monty python quiz.. try this. I got to be terry gilliam: cuz apparently, we are both shy and "behind the scenes" people...yeah, my ass.

on a more contemplative note, here's a gem seen spray painted on a wall in louiseville, ky during the srsa conference last april:
...the air is full of the dreams of sleeping people....
no frills and fineries, bells and whistles, just these pensive words scrawled on the corrugated metal garage door of some run-down warehouse.
-----
from the mouths of bebes:

overheard conversation between three year old girl, tua and a grown-up acquaintance (rough translations in parentheses):
tua: ami tomakey bhalobashi (i love you)
guest: koto ta? (how much?)
tua: jorey. onek jorey. (hard. very hard)
-----
humming: please forgive me (david gray)
reading: space stat tutorial

Note to self: don't talk so much.