Forward-Thinking Madness

Mother Nature gave Garrett County one last taste of Winter this weekend with four to five inches of snow and high winds. I never realized how lost I was without the internet until the cable went out last night due to the wind with the storm. I sat here for three hours waiting and waiting for it to come back on, but it never did. And during this time, I was able to complete more design work than I’ve done in months.

I also had a nightmare that when I awoke this morning, the cable would still be out. Yes, that would be a nightmare indeed.

Did I mention that Mikka howled all night long, thus only allowing me to sleep six hours? He’s been quite vocal lately to my dismay. I think he and I need to sit down and have a serious kitty-to-mommy discussion.

I’m going to be out of town the next couple days. I’m taking myself on an interesting journey downstate into the realm of Washington, D.C. It’s been almost three years since my last trip and I am looking forward to it.

There’s history there for me as I spent part of my childhood in Germantown, MD. I remember dad taking us into D.C. one summer on the metro and spending a day there. I recall the photographs in my mind–dad always had his camera with him. I suppose I am more like him than I choose to admit…my camera will be in tow on this trip as well.

I recall walking along the Vietnam War Memorial, and the Smithsonian Museum. I recall having a hot dog for lunch and the heat of the summer being the only downfall of the day.

Hopefully I can conjure a few memories while I am in D.C. tomorrow…

I’ve been listening to Tori Amos’ latest release, The Beekeeper, off and on this past week. I have to say that my first reaction was one of boredom–I couldn’t figure out where one song ended and the next one began. But as I’ve listened both at home and while driving, lyrics and melodies started to pop out at me, as in Barons of Suburbia and Marys of the Sea. These two tracks are my favorites as of today, but Witness and Toast are growing on me.

Tori is at a different point in her life, one of less anger..a point of her life that has changed her perspective on the world surrounding her. The need for brutal honesty isn’t necessary anymore. Knowing this, I listened to the album cautiously at first. I know that Tori will never write another Boys for Pele, and I am okay with that. [But of course some critics are not.] You cannot expect an artist to produce the same works over and over again without the slightest variation. As we grow older, we change and so does our perspective.

Personally, I am happy for Tori that she is content and I do not think her music suffers for it.

Linda’s Note 2/21/2010: I wasn’t going to re-publish this entry, but it made me chortle. I used to let things online really get to me. I am happily free of online drama.

It fascinates me to no end the ends that we go to for personal amusement on the internet. We far more daring online than in real life as we can be safely anonymous. For those who feel socially unaccepted in real life, they can seek out a sort of acceptance online. I see this with both men and women equally, but it’s the men [or should I say boys?] that seem to take it to the next level. We’re all guilty of adhering to the clique mentality as it’s inherent within us all, but when it becomes a source of provocation and harassment, I personally must draw the line.

You can find yourself swept up in antics that seem silly and harmless at first, but then you realize that what you’re doing, these things you are resonating, are malicious indeed. One can chalk it up to ‘just being the internet,’ but I believe this is a cop-out. It’s an excuse. I also think it’s cowardly.

One can say it’s fun. But is it really? It may be at first, but then if you do have a conscience, or e-conscience, it begins to kick in. [At least mine did. I cannot speak for everyone, only to what I think is common sense.]

Hatred is a funny thing–it comes in all sorts of guises. I never thought I would see it so overtly online until it came to pass along my line.

“It’s just provocation. They want a reaction out of you.”

It does seem indeed to be that. And in essence, me even acknowledging this e-hatred is unwise. But I don’t believe in quieting myself for the sake of others, to ‘save’ them from my opinion.

It’s a sick, mad world out there, and it seems to be even sicker and madder online. Can I laugh about that? To a certain degree, yes. It’s also a necessary lesson in abnormal psychology. [I'm taking notes profusely. Ha.]

If all you can do is hurt people, to tear them apart for the sake of your own amusement and to feed your ego or the size of your penis, I certainly can laugh at that.

It’s been a lackluster two weeks for me–the only emotions I am resonating are apathy and sadness. The longer I stay on this mountaintop, the more financially shattered I become. A solution, of course, has reared its ugly head and includes me getting another job to supplement my income. The problem is my lack of energy as of late–this fatigue I’ve been battling. A solution to this? Lots of vitamins and forcing myself to drink gallons and gallons of water.

I do have an escape plan to employ in 2005–a not-so-detailed plan at this point but it includes me speeding off this mountain as fast as I can and never looking back.

Of course I need to figure which direction to go in once I clear these extra thousand feet.

– switching gears –

I was able to solve a problem with my Blazer, or at least make a temporary fix. She began overheating a bit this week so I added two and two together and checked the coolant level. [Yes, it was completely empty.] So, I drove over to Sheetz the other morning, where I typically get morning coffee, and quickly purchased coolant/antifreeze. I popped the hood and began pouring. And then I poured…and poured some more. I said to myself: Why isn’t this filling past the halfway point?

So I get a clue and look under at the wheelwell and I see a lovely green trickle of coolant..and a puddle on the ground below. Stifling a curse, I make sure some of the coolant is staying where it needs to be, and then make a mental note to visit the garage soon. I am hoping it’s a minor fix.

I wonder when things will become simpler for me.

I found myself out in the middle of nowhere again yesterday–I drove down Route 219 to Elkins, WV, and then turned around and drove back. I discovered the decay of Moore, WV, and the campus of Davis & Elkins College. I wish for urban sprawl, but no matter how far I drive, I can’t seem to reach it.

I stood at the top of Backbone Mountain in six inches of snow, boot-deep in other words, and took in the fresh air…

I’ve got to get off this mountain.

I’ve been such an errant soul over the past five years. It’s time I decided where to plant my feet…even if it’s below sea level.

[P.S. I am also recovering from a bit of a stomach virus. I can be an absolute pain when my gut ailing. An absolute pain.]

‘m recovering from a two-day headache that stems from an inability to make important decisions. You know the type of headache–it spreads from that uneasy feeling in your stomach to your head, where it takes on the form of sensitivity to light and a pulsating madness from your temples. You run to bed and hide under the covers for 11 hours, protected by the darkness of night, in hopes that when light does arrive the headache will have disappeared.

You awaken to the pounding of a work crew tearing up the front porch–the landlady decided it was time, in the midst of winter, to renovate the house. Another day of seeing shadows passing to and fro by the windows, and that constant hammering, hammering, hammering…

And then they pound, pound, pound. This reminds me of my headache.

The poison is stress, the potion at this time is unknown. [The potion being the cure, of course.]

Update: The headache is gone. Today’s miracle potion: CVS-brand Menstrual Relief pills spiked with Acetamenophin. I knew I had something to get rid of my aches in the medicine cabinet. For the record, I don’t have PMS. That was last week.

There are thoughts, or realizations, that you have when you’re out driving around on ice- and snow-covered roads and it’s three degrees outside. You’re scoping out photographic opportunities–a herd of cattle braving the windchill factor, an old sofa left to waste in a field, drifts covering an old country road, or a crew repairing wind damage to power lines.

What am I doing out on this day exploring this arctic-like landscape? The tundra of Garrett County? I drove through Loch Lynn, Pleasant Valley and Deer Park, and then out into the Potomac State Forest. The roads were barely treated in certain spots–I tapped my break and hit a patch of ice on Boiling Spring Road. [There are times when four-wheel drive just doesn't help.] And there are times when your heart skips a beat.

I photographed an old Winnebago for sale outside of Deer Park–I wondered if it would even run?

I stood out on a road near a barren field braving the wind just to photograph the drifting snow. There was nothing special about the field–I cannot even recall why I stopped at that point. Perhaps I wanted to feel a bit of bitter cold through my unlined coat. There were no other cars or trucks on this road. Everyone else knew to stay inside today.

The excitement that I experience coming in from the cold with a digital camera full of pictures is strange indeed. Perhaps only another artist or photographer could understand.

And I look at a thermometer outside as I type this–the temperature is now six degrees.

Is Mother Nature playing a joke on us here in the mountains? It should be the height of ski season at the local resort, but instead it’s sixty-seven degrees and sunny. There’s not a snowflake, or a drop of freezing rain to be found. What this does mean is that the rest of the winter is going to be hell. To experience a day like this in mid-winter is a definite omen.

[P.S. I did get a change to enjoy this strange weather today. I took a brief walk around downtown Oakland. It was strange to see people without jackets, and even a man in shorts and a t-shirt.]

I dropped thirty-four dollars for a boxed set of Crest Whitestrips premium that included a free toothbrush and tube of Crest Vivid toothpaste. It was just a whim–one of those ridiculous shopping whims I take here and there.

My thought is this: I’ve applied these two little strips and it’s not really comfortable. In fact, it would not be a good idea for me to talk right now. There is also a white foam forming on my teeth, coated with drool.

Yes, I am foaming at the mouth.

So I read the handy little brochure that comes with the kit for more detail looking for the words “foam” and “drool,” and if this foam is okay to swallow. [Please, insert laughter here.]

Caution: Keep out of reach of young children. Consult your dentist for use by children under the age of 12. Do not swallow plastic strip.

Okay, so I won’t swallow them.

Skin contact: Gel that comes into contact with the skin can cause temporary skin irritation and/or whitening. Wash hands with soap and water after applying the strips.

That explains why my fingertips are white.

Some people may find it easier to wear the upper and lower strips separately.

Now they tell me.

Overall, I have to say this isn’t too bad. It’s a lot better spending an exorbitant amount of money at the dentist for whitening. And obviously it’s going to whiten my teeth, because in five minutes, it whitened my fingertips.

However, we’ll see if in seven days and fourteen treatments if my teeth are as white as the models’ on the packaging.

[P.S. the foaming stopped.]