It’s been a pretty slow six days since I last wrote. I worked this weekend- nothing too exciting happening there. Aside from that, my weekend included my usual activities: hanging around, sleeping, eating, drinking, and thinking. Of the five activities, only sleeping and thinking are necessarily appealing to me. The rest are both necessary parts of my life, but I only derive pleasure from nighttime dreaming and its sunlit counterpart, day-dreaming.
My sleeping patterns have gotten rather unstable; I am going to bed later and getting up at approximately the same time. As a result, my dreams have started getting macabre and surreal. My childhood was earmarked with mundanity in both my hours awake and my hours asleep. My dreams were very literal; while I slept, I phantasied about school, people in my life, and my pets. Never once in grade school or high school did I have a dream where my house is being overrun with zombies. But now, it’s normal. I really don’t get it.
My life is pretty uneventful on the whole. It’s like clockwork. I wake up. I use the bathroom. I shower. I play on the computer. I play video games. I eat. I read. I write. I work on the computer. I sleep…I sleep…I sleep. I wake up. I shower. I sleep (gotta have nearly equal time of day-dreaming and night-fancying, you know). Because of this, I have become prone to spending hours on end merely pondering my existence. I wonder… So far, all my hours of rumination and puzzlement have been futile. I am as perplexed as I was when I started, if not more. People create bustling lives for themselves so that they won’t have to stop to examine them. I suppose I can see their logic: “Why bother, there’s no time to stop and smell the roses. There’s too much to do. I have curtains to clean, children to feed, and spouses/significant others/French whores/Trishelles to copulate with.” They are right in some ways. But I really wonder.
Right now, it’s three in the morning, and I am reading and ruminating upon rules of usage in the English language. I have come to learn that I tend to spell more words in the correct form in British English, rather than in the American. I guess that is because I have this knack for doing things slightly differently but correct all the same. Besides, Brits were speaking English long before Americans were. Furthermore, what exactly is an American?
On another front, I am having troubles deciding what screen name to use (I know what you’re thinking– but Mikey, we don’t CARE!). Bret and I went through a phase where we registered new AOL instant messenger handles on a daily basis. Bret grew out of this; I, however, did not. I continue to think of great new names and register them as soon as possible. The names I have registered, in no particular order:
tevasandal
googly scimitar
macabre mikey
eat a pencil
get ta steppin y
great gondala
camel jimmy j
drinkyourwords
fracca at 1134
gekkokid19
i love millia
mollingerm
wherermypants
yekim91o
eLbow Parker
elBud potter
lumpylizardman
smooth mikey o
mikey ollinger
mordacious mikey
As you can see, I have entirely too many. I really need to hew it down to about three to five. Those that I am particularly fond of are emboldened. I believe I register so many screen names because I love coming up with titles and names for things. I have been naming cats, dogs, fish, cars, chairs, rooms, body parts, the list goes on and on. In thinking about it even further (another sign I really need to find a life), I have decided upon the ultimate screen name for myself. The rest are good, but this one is the best…
From henceforth, my screen name shall be THE NOMENCLATOR (cue echo, clap of thunder, and scary-sounding music). I will name things as they come to me. I will invent monikers where needed. Why? Because I am the NOMENCLATOR!!!