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under the voracious blue sky
Apr. 23rd, 2010 12:13 pmBetter today, maybe because there is some sun. Yesterday I was anxious about the rain and how it would impact the driving all around, but thankfully the worst was gone before I set out to adventure.
Last night we had a quarterly work meeting. It was informative, though I wish they spent less time talking about the company organization and more about their major, major deal with Google. (Guys I work for the Goliath of my industry now and while that is kind of weird, it is also kind of awesome.) I got a fancy pen, for my paperless job, in honor of having moderated over 75 million characters. To put some perspective on that, a typical English translation of War & Peace by Tolstoy contains 3.1 million characters or so. So that's like going through War & Peace 24 times in less than two years.
After that long meeting, we missed dinner but went to the Drafthouse for the Ladies of the 80's singalong. Now that was fun. They had fire for "Venus" by Bananarama, crepe streamers thrown everywhere during Cyndi Lauper's "True Colors," a mini trampoline on stage and a guy fromt he audience who did jumping splits and then a flip, The Weather Girls singing "It's Raining Men" and blow up male sex dolls being thrown off the balcony into the crowd, a confetti cannon during "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and glow sticks and general insanity. You might imagine a theater full of drunk women might pose suggestively with inflatable naked men, but no. Instead they were making the dolls have sex with each other. Ahahahah. Drafthouse singalongs are awesome.
I am trying hard not to be neurotic about the business of turning thirty. Everyone tells me thirty is better than twenty and I believe them. But it does remind me I am getting older and there are things in my life I should set to rights physically and mentally. I don't want to spend all of my life living with ghosts that never shut up. This year too has made me remember just how long it has been since the divorce and everything that happened before. I've felt this sort of grief well up that surprised me, given that it has been five years now.
When it happened, sometimes people told me time would make the difference. Ultimately, time has. It feels unbearable and unbelievable at first - but the slow, steady march of time has worn down the razor edge. My grief has changed. I have changed. I feel like I should have some more profound observation, but so it goes.
I've finally hit upon what I'm going to do though. I'm going to shave my head. Happy birthday to me.
Last night we had a quarterly work meeting. It was informative, though I wish they spent less time talking about the company organization and more about their major, major deal with Google. (Guys I work for the Goliath of my industry now and while that is kind of weird, it is also kind of awesome.) I got a fancy pen, for my paperless job, in honor of having moderated over 75 million characters. To put some perspective on that, a typical English translation of War & Peace by Tolstoy contains 3.1 million characters or so. So that's like going through War & Peace 24 times in less than two years.
After that long meeting, we missed dinner but went to the Drafthouse for the Ladies of the 80's singalong. Now that was fun. They had fire for "Venus" by Bananarama, crepe streamers thrown everywhere during Cyndi Lauper's "True Colors," a mini trampoline on stage and a guy fromt he audience who did jumping splits and then a flip, The Weather Girls singing "It's Raining Men" and blow up male sex dolls being thrown off the balcony into the crowd, a confetti cannon during "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and glow sticks and general insanity. You might imagine a theater full of drunk women might pose suggestively with inflatable naked men, but no. Instead they were making the dolls have sex with each other. Ahahahah. Drafthouse singalongs are awesome.
I am trying hard not to be neurotic about the business of turning thirty. Everyone tells me thirty is better than twenty and I believe them. But it does remind me I am getting older and there are things in my life I should set to rights physically and mentally. I don't want to spend all of my life living with ghosts that never shut up. This year too has made me remember just how long it has been since the divorce and everything that happened before. I've felt this sort of grief well up that surprised me, given that it has been five years now.
When it happened, sometimes people told me time would make the difference. Ultimately, time has. It feels unbearable and unbelievable at first - but the slow, steady march of time has worn down the razor edge. My grief has changed. I have changed. I feel like I should have some more profound observation, but so it goes.
I've finally hit upon what I'm going to do though. I'm going to shave my head. Happy birthday to me.