A word about existential dilemmas

They suck.

Make of this what you will...

You know how sometimes when you navigate to a page that has a search box on it the box will sometimes display a few of the most recent terms that you searched? Well, that just happened to me and here are the terms that it displayed-

• Humphrey Bogart
• Boston
• Europa League
• Scotland
• Johnny Cash

I don't want to read too much into this list, but I wonder how much you could learn about somebody by seeing what they search for. I know that, if you showed this list to somebody as representative of me, I'd be just fine with it.

I don't get it.

Why are otherwise rational adults obsessed with crown molding?

This small strip of contoured wood seems to make people blind to almost anything else.

"Sure, the house has termites, is in a high crime neighborhood, and is built on the site of an ancient graveyard, but look- crown molding!!"

If at first you don't succeed...

I live, more or less, at an intersection.

Today and ice cream shop opened up in the storefront diagonally across the intersection from me.

I wish the owners the best of luck, but there's something they should know-

While this may seem like an ideal location (at a busy intersection and within about a 90 second walk of the town's waterpark/Little League park/soccer fields, here is what has preceded the ice cream shop at the same location- at least the ones that I can remember off the top of my head: a tattoo/body piercing parlor, a seasonal tax preparation service, a nail salon, a storefront church (maybe two of them, I'm not sure), a day spa (not the same as the nail salon), and a temporary staffing agency.

I'm not saying the ice cream shop is doomed to failure- I hope it isn't, actually!- but I'm not going to get too attached to it.

Feeling Powerless?

Alone?

Don't.

You are neither.

"A Pict Song"

Rome never looks where she treads.
Always her heavy hooves fall,
On our stomachs, our hearts or our heads;
And Rome never heeds when we bawl.
Her sentries pass on—that is all,
And we gather behind them in hordes,
And plot to reconquer the Wall,
With only our tongues for our swords.
We are the Little Folk—we!
Too little to love or to hate.
Leave us alone and you’ll see
How we can drag down the State!
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot at the root!
We are the taint in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!

Mistletoe killing an oak—
Rats gnawing cables in two—
Moths making holes in a cloak—
How they must love what they do!
Yes—and we Little Folk too,
We are busy as they—
Working our works out of view—
Watch, and you’ll see it some day!

No indeed! We are not strong,
But we know Peoples that are.
Yes, and we’ll guide them along,
To smash and destroy you in War!
We shall be slaves just the same?
Yes, we have always been slaves,
But you—you will die of the shame,
And then we shall dance on your graves!

We are the Little Folk—we!
Too little to love or to hate.
Leave us alone and you’ll see
How we can drag down the State!
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot at the root!
We are the taint in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!

-Rudyard Kipling

Huh.

I don't know if this is an epiphany, a realization, or what you want to call it, but here's something:

-There is nothing I could ever do that would disappoint my father. He might be disappointed in my "deed," but not in "me."

-There is nothing I could ever do that would not disappoint my mother. Her expectations of me are so high that I'm not sure I could ever live up to them.

So there

Dear Laundromat People.

Allow me to quote the great philosopher George Constanza:

"WE'RE LIVING IN A SOCIETY!!"

Please learn about the concept of "personal space." If I am standing still and two of you manage to come into violent contact with me it just might not be my fault.

If however, you cannot help but to flail into me, you could at least apologize for doing it.

Normally, I'd be really peeved about this, but you know what? As soon as my landlord finishes the new, free, laundry room in my building I will be rid of you and your kind.

Thank you for your time.

A Serious Question

Does anyone actually drink orange soda?