The Bloggy Blogface!

      About twice a year, I put myself into some unnecessarily stressful situation. It is something that could be remedied fairly quickly, but I seem to much rather hem and haw over the logistics. And not just for one day, when the time comes I will do this for weeks on end, very much annoying those around me in the process.  I'm not sure why I go about it this way, but I do. I don't have to, you see. A sensible solution to something that isn't even a real problem could be made within minutes, and without needing an appointment, probably completed within the hour. Then I would come back to my little abode, stop with the indecisiveness, and get on with my life.  Obviously, what I am talking about is getting a haircut.  There's a couple of reasons why I put myself through such a useless self-imposed torture chamber. The first excuse is that I never know how to clearly state just what I want done to my hair. Growing up I would always just tell them to shave th...

  One of my neighbors seems to have multiple homes in the area. Sometimes during the day, I'll spot him pedaling up the street and around the corner, where he'll lean his bicycle against a wooden post in the small carport next door. I have never seen him enter this house, and in the evenings I never see the lights on. Behind the carport sits a white garage, where throughout the week he'll park that bike, open the garage and get to work. For the next few hours, all of the noises coming from the garage are the same ones I heard in high school shop classes a thousand years ago.  Around six in the evening, he'll close up the garage, hop back on the bike, and ride back to wherever he rests his head at night.  With his grey tousled hair and wiry frame, I like to think he retired here from a northern state somewhere. Maybe he's a Vietnam veteran, like my father. He seems to be pals with another similar-looking fellow across the street from his garage. They'll sit outsi...

Ever since I endured another rotation around the sun this month, I have been having trouble sleeping. In the beginning, I would toss and turn for hours, until my brain decided enough was enough. It was usually five or six in the morning until I finally zonked out, followed by twenty to thirty minutes here and there of dreams until I would wake up again. By about ten in the morning I would be sick of this pattern, and just begin my day.  Lately this pattern has shifted to the nighttime. I'm finding myself dozing off around ten or eleven at night, which apparently leads to waking up for good at around four-thirty or five in the morning. Whenever I find myself awake in both circumstances, I can't help but reach for my phone. I'll flip through some apps, over to some news aggregator sites (Farker since the mid 2000's. Look it up) then back to some of the same apps that haven't updated content because, well, it's five in the damn morning, and most people I follow the...