success is when the resolutions make me

a reasonable new year's resolution: to ressurect this blog, and have it periodically updated with observations and an accompanying illusion and or disillusion. spirited optimism and unjustified surliness in good measure.
the thing that has stopped me from keeping any sort of intelligible journal recently has been a combination between never having the patience to labour over details, and not quite feeling satisfied that a bullet point list of significant moments is enough to count as a record of any reasonable merit. i do not feel good writing posts that aren't able to draw all the events of my recent life into a succinct evaluation of Everything Ever.
in addition, having read over that past paragraph, my blogging is also compromised by how arrogant i fear i am/sound. ha! some honesty.
so for tonight i'm just going to keep it short. i have been in an excellent mood, the last couple of days - i visited my aunt. she, my mother, sister and i attempted a seance in what used to be the living room. we ended up using a metal eggcup, because all the glasses were too heavy... and only managed to have it pushed around a couple of times between YES and the vast white middle of our mock-up ouija-page before abandoning our inter-plane communion for a disc of gilmore girls and the eating of cake. cake > reticent spirits. remember this if you need to pull me out of a coma someday, and you only have time to try one approach because the hospital is on fire.
jen and i looked at some hand-built australian houses in a book published in the seventies. in the last few weeks i've had to do a lot of thinking about The Future... something i haven't practiced in a while, and the one thing that i've always always wanted to have is a house that i've built. of course in the more extreme days of my youth, i imagined that the walls would be fig trees, fused into some kind of dome. i am much less suspicious of a life half-normal, these days. now i think i'd settle for mudbrick. stained glass windows, a state of the art computer in one corner, and a fridge full of lentils in another. for the sake of juxtaposition, i'll have to abandon the dome idea.
i think my work has caught on to the fact that i'm a hippie. at heart, at least. lauren caught me with the light off in the staff room. then i told her about how i give attacking mosquitoes two warnings before i make any moves to kill them, and even then i feel bad. possibly because i really can't be sure if it's the same or a different mosquito to the one i've warned, that now has designs on my blood.
i finished reading It's Too Late To Say I'm Sorry by Joey Comeau. here's a quote from one of the stories, "Cry Me a River":
"we wrote our love letters so they'd live forever in the government protection filters. 'I love you suicide bomber, president, child porn. Biological warfare rape union, beautiful.'"
I also finally finished Garp and A Spy in the Family. i have another three days off from work, i have friends to vsit and gilmore girls to watch and kind of a year's worth of the world to catch up on. i'm starting to see things better again. mostly in a literal way, my eyes were way unfocusy recently... it's mere coincidence that my perspective seems a lot clearer now, as well. more on that tomorrow...