This brings back memories from when I worked at a garage, especially the complex hydraulic control-channel casting. Ahh, the pre-silicon seventies... Howstuffworks: "How Automatic Transmissions Work."
I can't stand the 'B' stuck to the top corner; I want to make it float. I guess it's not going to stay so simple after all.
'Hi, my name is Joe, and I am a javascript addict.'
I've been gradually reinstalling stuff lost to my operating system upgrade. (don't ask.).
I recently reinstalled AOL Instant Messenger, as well as the new version of ICQ, and that has allowed me to reacquaint myself with a couple chat buds with whom I failed to maintain contact over the last year or so. The reacquaintance has been really ...well, let me just say it has been very nice. Isolation can be pleasant in small doses, but excessive isolation just seperates me from everything, always. That was nice for a while - not needing to accomodate anybody else's needs, or respond to anything outside of me - but the deadness creeps in, and the creator within me becomes despondant.
I've spent a lot of time there, in isolation, reflexively closing doors without any consideration for what (or who) I was excluding. It got so tiresome that at one point, I almost closed the final door - with a rope. That made me realize that what I really want is to stop closing doors.
But it is opening them that scares me. Yeah I know, that's just like everybody else. Only everybody doesn't buy th. rope.
I suppose I'm going to have to do a lot - a whole fuckin' lot - of work on the reasons why I like having doors shut before I can fling them all open without a care. But to have gotten so far as to have closed them all but one, and then to have chosen quite deliberately to stop closing doors - that reversal is enough, for now.
My future is all open doors; I might even find occasion to close one, from time to time. <insert lyrics for tacky 70's song, 'Behind Closed Doors'>
Back from round one of apartment 'cruising'. Me and Irene didn't have any appointments set up to see places, so we just did a series of 'drive-by's'.
The first one is a condo in a three-unit building, and the next door neighbor (whom Irene drew out onto his back porch) is a very attractive black man with light brown highlights in his hair, and a very pleasant personality. She says he liked me, but that would be too much to hope. Besides, my whole life will be undergoing some significant changes - my astrologer told me so - and I hope (tentatively) that I will be changing my habit of objectifying men. I'm really, really not sure, but I think I might prefer to meet and get to know them - to engage with their heart and mind without bailing and diving into their pants.
But that is a nice thought, still.
Apartment hunting. More to follow...