The blog of a bum who thinks too much. Or, maybe not enough.

About Me -- Confusion abounds

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Urbana, Illinois, United States
Thirty-one-year-old gay guy blogging for blog's sake.

2011-07-20

Little Chicks!

The dove eggs hatched! Not only that, the dove chicks are older than what I expected them to be. They already have their pin feathers, which means that they must have been hatched for a little while. I was hoping that I would catch them fresh from the egg, so to speak, but I missed the boat.

I am still extremely satisfied that they look healthy. I really hope they fully fledge out to adult birds and fly away into the wild blue yonder. That would make me so very happy.

Time for chick pictures!

From mourningdove


From mourningdove


From mourningdove


From mourningdove


The cuteness of the chicks melts my heart into a puddle of goo. Seriously.

2011-07-18

"Do you smoke green?"

Well, I used to smoke green, but I never knew I was that obvious to the world about it.

Today I had the weirdest interaction with a random stranger I still can't believe it actually happened. It started like this:

I spent some extra time at school to study for a quiz later this week, which meant that I left school one hour later than usual. I got on the bus, and, presumably, a stoner sat next to me. No big deal, I sit next to people on the bus all the time. I would also assume that a surprising portion of the people who I do sit next to are probably stoned, but I wouldn't know. It is public transportation. So a few minutes into the bus ride this guy hands me his smart phone. Displayed on the screen was some "l337 speek" along the lines of, "Hey man, Do U smoke Green?" I handed the phone back to him not really knowing what he was asking, and truthfully, not really knowing what to do. This guy was like asked me, "Well...do you?" So I told the truth and told him that I used to smoke quite a bit, but I stopped because I did it too much. He then stated that he just arrived from a far-off location and had a "big stash" he was looking to unload. Well now...That was the end of the conversation that we had on the bus.

We both disembarked the bus at the bus terminal, and curiosity got the best of me. So this stoner guy was near me and I struck up a conversation. I asked him what gave me away? I asked him what made him think that I was part of that culture. He was like, "Well, I looked at you and I could tell because of the hat, the beard, the chain, and the earrings." After that we talked a little bit more. Apparently he just arrived from Forth Worth, Texas, which means he probably had Mexican weed.

Well now, I guess I just look like a stoner. *scoff*

So I've told all of the pool people about this story, and they were asking me if I actually bought some weed. I did not, and I made sure they knew it. I'm just wondering, again, what is the chance that some random stoner guy would ask me, out of the blue, as to whether I was looking to score some weed. What are the chances? You know, if he asked me two weeks ago I would have taken him up on his offer, but alas, I am drying myself out. This is such a random occurrence that I can hardly believe it.

My life is extreme random occurrences. This one is just a bit benign. That is all.

Me "being a stoner."


2011-07-10

Peanut Butter Bread

Today is the last day that I have marijuana. I smoked my last: It is gone. I'm going to go dry for a while just to see if I can. I think I can...but the first few weeks might be "itchy."

Of course, whenever I smoke weed, I think big thoughts. This time I was thinking about my habits, and where they possibly come from. Infrequently, in my past, people would tell me that I tend to obsess about things. I think they were right. At the end of March I realized that I obsessed about things that didn't do me any good; but after I thought that I tried to identify the source of that obsession, or compulsion. Then I started thinking about my youth.

\\\In My Youth

I used to spread peanut butter on a slice of bread really, really obsessively. Meticulously. Precisely, and exactly. I was obsessed with a perfectly smooth peanut butter surface. There had to be no wrinkles, or butter-knife swipes, in the surface pattern of the peanut butter. It was as smooth as ice. I was obsessed with perfectly lined-up edges of peanut butter to the edge of the crust of the bread. There had to be no bare spots of bread exposing to the surface, or through the surface, of the peanut butter. There had to be no gooey overflow of peanut butter over the edge of the crust of the bread...at all. It was as if the slice of bread had a perfect stamp, of the silhouette of the bread, of peanut butter on its surface.

The peanut butter was literally perfectly spread in every conceivable way. And I loved it.


I remember this process taking a long time, in my mind back in my youth. I knew it took me "longer than usual" to spread peanut butter on a slice of bread. I think I was OK with that, back then -- but I didn't realize how long in duration it actually took me to simply spread peanut butter on bread.

Getting the surface of the peanut butter perfectly smooth was the ritual that took the most time. Spreading the peanut butter to the edges without overflow isn't that challenging. The real challenge was the surface. I remember it took me a long time, of many practice sessions, to execute the techniques I could use to manifest a perfectly smooth surface of peanut butter. The next most challenging thing about the perfectly smooth surface was that the perfect smoothness had to extend to the edges of the crust of bread. Remember, the edges of the peanut butter spread were as if it was stamped at the same time the bread was. So I would "pass over" the edge of the slice of bread with a knife loaded with peanut butter: I would then gently "lift higher" my hand as it approached the edge of the bread. That was how I achieved that uniform smoothness all the way to the edge. And I think I still love it.

My sisters would laugh and think how obsessive my actions were. (They are, Nick!) They would say, "Oh! Nick is spreading peanut butter again. He'll be busy for 25 minutes!" Here is the absolutely crazy thing: It really, literally took me that long to actually spread peanut butter on one slice of bread! My mom was less entertained, and slightly more concerned. I mean, the time duration, for an action that 99% of the other population would have executed in sixty seconds flat, took me nearly a half an hour!

Strangely, I never cared that much about jelly. It could by applied in any chaotic way.

Eventually, the stress of simply spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread became too much. I was so obsessed with the absolute perfection of spread peanut butter, I literally had to go dry! I literally gave up PB & J sandwiches for a little while back in my youth because I couldn't deal with the stress of spreading peanut butter. My mom, and my sisters, would sometimes offer PB & J sandwiches for lunch, and I conscientiously opted out because I knew that if I started making a sandwich...I wouldn't be able to actually stop until I was done:  Until the peanut butter was spread perfectly. I used to tell my family, "I'm too mature for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." My family would say, "We're 'mature' and we enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. You can still eat them, too." I really did enjoy eating the sandwiches, they tasted great; but taste is irrelevant when I would get trapped in the ritual of a perfectly smooth peanut butter spread on a slice of bread. When I started, I wouldn't, and couldn't stop until the spread was perfect.

This excuse went on for a while. I believe I was around 9 years old when I finally got over the obsession of perfectly smooth peanut butter spreads on slices of bread. I don't remember exactly how long my self-imposed dry spell from the ritual lasted: I have a feeling it might have lasted for a few months. I just remember knowing, in a fundamental way, that the treat, and by proxy the ritual, had to be avoided for a while because it was controlling me in some way. Curiously, whenever I spread peanut butter, to this day, I have to remind myself that it is Simply OK to have an uneven, wavy surface of peanut butter on a slice of bread, with some of the bread and crust showing through. It is OK to have peanut butter run over the edge of the bread and *gasp* touch your finger when you grab it from the sides.

I think I'm trying to go dry from the weed, too. I've been smoking heavily since the beginning of December of 2010. My stash ran out now, and that really does worry me a little bit. The weed really did enable me to identify some hidden-away aspects of my personality, and because of that, I think it made me a better person. At the same time I simply did too much of it, and it took up too much of my time. I rarely showed self-control with this habit, and it owned me. Curiously, I never went to school intoxicated, but I did everything else intoxicated. Just so you know, bicycle rides are a blast while toasty -- and that was the most positive-benign thing I did. I just need to move on. I think I've had enough fun for a while, with the weed, and now I need to learn how to identify the things inside myself that make do the things I do, without weed. I think I can do it, but it might take a while to master. I think I'll also smoke again in the future, but not now. I need to know...how to control myself and my obsessions. Adults show self-control, not little kids.


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