Poking my nose out

In an effort to get me to look at this thing more often, ask me questions as a comment to this message.  I will reply as an added posting here, I won't reveal who asked the question unless you say so.

Ask away!

Today I officially move...  I bought a two-flat a couple weeks ago, and clwolf81 and caponex have moved in as housemates.  I had enough pieces though that I had to hire movers to bring the big pieces; as I write this they're moving the big couch.

But UGH, talk about a process.  I'll have a lot to toast at New Years.

Pictures are forthcoming as soon as I can get the film developed.

"Who is your favorite author and why? Do you ever read fluff guilty pleasure stuff, if so can you give an example? What are you reading right now?"

I don't really have a "favorite" author per se.  Books are my business so I have to read or at least scan through a lot of stuff.  Recent favorites include Saylor and Maguire, among others.  I do read some fluff... though usually it's something comical that I see coming in that a patron has returned.

Right now I'm about to start on "The Story of Edgar Sawtelle" for our April book club.

blklthrtn wrote: "Do you like Chicago? Would you live anywhere else?"

I do like Chicago.  I wouldn't have stayed for five years if I didn't.  But move somewhere else?  It's always a possibility.

As always, feel free to ask me a question; I will screen responses and post the answers.  Let me know if you want me to reveal you as the asker.

Pearls Before Swine, by Steve Pastis, Feburary 7, 2010.

Right now I'm sitting in a hotel room in downtown Phoenix, Arizona, decompressing from the past weekend.

Death is a part of the constant of human existence. Clotho spins the thread of life, Lachesis measures the length of the thread, and when the thread has ended, Atropos cuts the thread, ending the life. The myths have passed down through time; we each are born, we live the life that we live, and when the time comes, we pass on into the next world. But it's never easy for those of us who are still on this world.

I flew out here for Grandma's services on Thursday. Fortunately the weather cooperated; my plane landed at Sky Harbor Airport on time and I was able to grab my rental car and head on north. It was a pretty quiet wake and service; Grandma lived for so long that by the time she hit 101 years old, few if any of her contemporaries are left. Pretty much the immediate family were there: me, Dad, my aunt and her husband, my uncle and his wife, and all but one of my cousins (she couldn't make the trip now, but made it out to see Grandma before the end.) I think this will be one of the last gatherings of all of us, unfortunately. It's sad. But in a way, the only one of that side of the family I really got to know was Grandma: we didn't see my aunt or uncle on Mom's side nearly as much as we did the family on Dad's side.

I stayed long enough to see the gravediggers lower Grandma's casket into the grave beside my grandfather. I was her youngest grandchild, and the only child of her eldest daughter whom she lost seven years before. I know the tears were streaming down my face, and I was barely able to croak out the words that Grandma and I always traded when we ended a phone call or I left from a visit: "I love you, bye bye." I know she was there though, watching over us. Before the graveside service began, someone noticed feathers floating down from a large pine tree above us. Sure enough, there was a hawk up there enjoying a dove for lunch. Grandma was an avid birder, and she would have known in an instant what type of hawk it was. As the priest gave the final benediction, we heard a *thunk* as the hawk took off. Dad said that he thinks that was Grandma leaving us. Though as I walked away, I turned back. I think it was probably a figment of my imagination, but for a moment, I saw three figures: Mom, Grandfather Jekel, and Grandma, each as they appeared in their prime. I know they're together again, and I know I'll be with them again when my time comes.

I am very very tired of sickness and death. Can we just cancel the rest of 2009 and go directly to 2010?

Because of Marc's illness and that I will probably be needed here, my trip to California has officially been cancelled.

I am in Room 554 of Weiss Memorial Hospital.  The doctors here say I have pancreatitis.  Prayers, thoughts, etc are appreciated.

And thanks to Chris for staying with me trhough out the hell that is ER.

I turned 35 at approximately 3:15 this morning, Pacific Daylight Time.

I've spent the weekend rather quietly; bootglove (da BEAR) and I hit Bear Night last night, and the Bear and clwolf81 (Chris) and I went to Habana Libre (a Cuban restaurant in Noble Square that my good friend Marie and I discovered last year) for an early dinner, then to Sidetrack for some showtunes. A couple of others were hoping to come, but unfortunately circumstances got in the way. It's cool though.

I guess the past year has had a lot of changes and discovery. I've done a lot of traveling, have had a couple revelations, and frankly have figured out a few things. I guess that this next year is where I come to some decisions, and put them into practice.

I had a thought this evening that seems to have stuck with me.

Is there such a thing as a hero?

Is there anyone who isn't deserving of a hero's aid?

If a person is deserving of aid, does he have the right to tell the hero to help someone else who is in more need of assistance?


Thoughts?