On Picayune Observations

A coworker told me last week he’s Cupid. I told him I’d make sure to stay away from him. One of my housemates was talking on the phone earlier tonight with a girl he met in Pennsylvania not too long ago and a Cialis commercial came on the television. I muted the volume and exclaimed I did so to keep the girl from thinking what no one had in mind. My housemate cracked a smile. Presidential hopeful Bill Richardson continues to alarm me as being the one candidate who talks the most but never says anything. I wonder if anyone really knows why he is bidding to become President and, more importantly, how he has managed to stay in the race this long. My housemate who recently married and moved out called us to ask if we’ve seen his missing dvd’s. We all agreed tonight that he lost them. If that’s the case it is only due to his scatter-brained personality. I should be fast asleep right now. But I’m awake writing this post; a virtuous person knows correspondence, such as email, is best left for completion during normal daytime hours. Many people are so tangled up in personal opinion and religious dogma that they do not realize they utter fallacies during debates; This is especially true when they resort to name-calling and attacking the others’ character to “win” the upper hand. I recently heard a person I know admit, not with what they said but in what they didn’t say, that they lack friends, and possibly even love, due to their pride; I think life’s journey is too short to be picky about whom we befriend. After all, what would the fruitcake of life be without a few nuts mixed in. I miss playing my guitar as often as I used to. I just wish I wasn’t so busy with being half-responsible so that I could play more often. I still don’t understand why, in general, history majors are assumed to know every little detail of history asked by friends and acquaintances. Some people have no trouble going from one love interest to another without ever committing to anyone, but others who want to commit have trouble finding even one interested person, and I find that puzzling. Winter in my small corner of Ohio never seems to settle into habit. I have too many places where I’d like to spend a small fortune and not enough money to go around; I have a gift card to spend but don’t want to actually drive to the store to spend it. I habitually stay up this late partly because of how much I enjoy how deathly silent the world is.


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