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Random Gloats # Whatever
Oct. 22nd, 2004 08:56 pmMy sweetie is off at a (dinner?) party to which I was pointedly not invited. I contemplated making calls, going out solo, doing something out of the ordinary, but ended up coming home with supplies (read: alchohol) for tomorrow's do at Heath's, and some free time on lj.
As happens quite often, I am reminded of one of the few lines of poetry I can quote:
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I don't like it that Laura so seldom invites me to come out with her friends; I do like it that she has a life of her own, that she doesn't need (or want) me to be with her in every situation.
I want to see her far more often than I do; I enjoy the fact our relationship gives me plenty of time to myself.
I trust her implicitly; I worry that she will change.
I want her to change; I don't want her to change too much (see above).
* * *
When cycling along Queen, I stop for traffic lights. I stop when a streetcar ahead of me folds open its doors. I wait until they close before doing my best to pass the goddamn thing.
Meanwhile, my "fellow" cyclists bomb through - the arrogant couriers, the poverty-stricken drunks, the students, the office-ladies - they all seem to care not a wit for the letter of the law - or even, for the comfort and safety of those dis- or embarking.
Am I noble, or just a fool, for stopping when (almost) everyone else charges on by?
I am a pedestrian, cyclist and driver - and I loathe all three of those categories. What the hell ever happened to manners?
* * *
I need a good deal more self-discipline than I have.
* * *
Despite my cynical post the other day, I think the human race has a bright future ahead of it. A little late, we're moving into Robert A. Heinlein's "crazy years", but there is light at the end of that long, brutal tunnel.
* * *
I'm on call this weekend. My pager just buzzed, but there is no message. Is God trying tosell tell me something?
* * *
Oh, nevermind. Time to add a few more people to my friends' list, who I will likely remove in a day or two.
As happens quite often, I am reminded of one of the few lines of poetry I can quote:
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I don't like it that Laura so seldom invites me to come out with her friends; I do like it that she has a life of her own, that she doesn't need (or want) me to be with her in every situation.
I want to see her far more often than I do; I enjoy the fact our relationship gives me plenty of time to myself.
I trust her implicitly; I worry that she will change.
I want her to change; I don't want her to change too much (see above).
When cycling along Queen, I stop for traffic lights. I stop when a streetcar ahead of me folds open its doors. I wait until they close before doing my best to pass the goddamn thing.
Meanwhile, my "fellow" cyclists bomb through - the arrogant couriers, the poverty-stricken drunks, the students, the office-ladies - they all seem to care not a wit for the letter of the law - or even, for the comfort and safety of those dis- or embarking.
Am I noble, or just a fool, for stopping when (almost) everyone else charges on by?
I am a pedestrian, cyclist and driver - and I loathe all three of those categories. What the hell ever happened to manners?
I need a good deal more self-discipline than I have.
Despite my cynical post the other day, I think the human race has a bright future ahead of it. A little late, we're moving into Robert A. Heinlein's "crazy years", but there is light at the end of that long, brutal tunnel.
I'm on call this weekend. My pager just buzzed, but there is no message. Is God trying to
Oh, nevermind. Time to add a few more people to my friends' list, who I will likely remove in a day or two.