Unbelievable. The days of the past-come-knocking are here already. Three months. I gave myself three months to post about a month and a half worth of daily posts to the future, and got nowhere close.

So now it's started and that's given me at least the tiniest hitch of motivation to do something to fill in the blanks. I still have my little impromptu calender thing on which I was highlighting the days as I hit them, all out of orders.

"It's not procrastination if it looks or smells like medicine."

Watch the horrible as it all falls into pieces and shame.

Right NOW there are fewer than two months before the equally disappointingly unreadied-for 08/08/08. Halaka just loses an eye, but the rest of you...

We're already days into this exprojimenject (in real time, I mean), and there are more remaining entries-to-create than there are entries created. Hopefully beyond the now you won't know much about what's been real and what's been memorex. Capital. Trademark. Punctuation.

The issue isn't, the issue is. It's easier in somehows to write this way, but it's not certainly getting anything worth reading to be here on the thing in front of anybody. The same time crunch/organizational problems/mismanagement of allotted resources that plagues (plagued?) my regular blog-o-ripping is stifling this method, too. I've got too much going on.

It's all one big obligation. Move from morning to night and there's very little space in there to do something that isn't for someone else.

That's not where this was supposed to go. Trouble is I can't remember where this was supposed to go. I had a title done before being interrupted on this Saturday morning to go carry some shit upstairs for the child. Then I cleaned it. Prior to writing the headline I had been working, having an impossible deadline to meet arrived at based on estimates for work time that I didn't make.

This thing got 2 stars from AllMusic. I'm noticing a trend here. For me this album is far and away the best Poison ever did. Then again, I'm not a Poison fan.

I picked this up for no good reason, as far as I can remember. I never liked Ce Ce Deville, Poison's stickin'-out-blond-haired guitarist, so when he was replaced for this album by Ritchie Kotzen, about whom I knew (and still know) nothing, I guess maybe I figured I should listen. I must've heard a single or something to get me interested in the first place; maybe in listening to this thing now I'll remember what song that was.

Ritchie Kotzen, unlike Ce Ce Deville, actually knows how to play the guitar. He probably plays the guitar too much, or at least parts of the album sound like Poison's saying, "Hey, listen, we have a good guitarist doing shit now." It never feels too flashy for me, but maybe someone else might think it is.

Much more importantly for me, though, being the vocals-above-all-else person that I usually am, Ritchie's backing vocals add about a hundred and fifty seven tons of balls to Poison's sound. There's a real blues rock band here on this album that has nothing to do with th


(Watch all of this closely. Or don't. I remember the day I started writing that. I had to stop to be on parent duty. Took my daughter upstairs, played with balls and danced in the sun room. Put the album in question on up there, thinking I could finish listening then and finish writing down impressions that night. No idea what I did that night, but it wasn't finish writing. Months passed. Now I'm not even bothering to finish reading what I started writing. We're going to leave this one here, as a half-finished remembering of a day spent trying to muse about remembering what brought me to buy and listen to Poison's Native Tongue.)

(P.S. Hope you like it.)

If it's not worth doing right, just go ahead and do it wrong.

That's what.

My desk is a shambles. I've got multiple laptops I've been working from for a while now, and my wrists have been starting to feel like bad things are going on. I've been using one of the laptops without external keyboard or trackball, which really just doesn't do me well.

Yesterday I went to Staples. They still have pretty much no selection of trackballs; long-time acquaintance/readers know that I've had this issue in the past. The only one they had, in fact, is the shittiest of the Logitech trackballs. I already have one of those, keep it in the office-away-from-home, and I don't like it. So I bought a mouse instead; anything's better than the touchpad on the laptop.

So it is better than that, but it's not really what I need for long-term. I also bought a second (third, actually,) ergonomic keyboard, some wave deal from Microsoft. Got it home, opened it up, and found something that I would've been pissed to buy from fucking ebay. It had been very much used and, I guess, returned. Full of crumbs in the keys, sticky gunk, and cat hair. NICE. So today I returned it and replaced it with the only other one of this model they had. The box was damaged but the keyboard is fine.

The return didn't go like maybe I was hoping; I sort of wanted to confront somebody about the fact that they sold a used keyboard as new. It wasn't that I wanted to get money off or something; just wanted to say YOU GUYS SUCK. But the girl who took the return probably wasn't responsible. Not that she won't do the same thing again, as she didn't ask what was wrong, and she didn't check inside the box. I could've returned a busted 7 year old keyboard for all she'd have known. I sort of assume that's how that one got there: someone had it for a while, decided they wanted a cleaner one, and returned it for a swap.

So I don't much like the keyboard yet, we'll see how much it grows on me. It's got the quiet keys, instead of clicky keys; I'm partial to clicky keys.

Today I did another google search for trackballs and found a site I'm pretty sure wasn't around before when I looked. Trackball World. Not that they have much in the way of trackballs that haven't been around forever. They do have some that I don't know that I've seen before. Over a hundred bucks each, though, and not by anyone I've heard of. I'm curious about this one: ITAC Evolution MouseTRAK Trackball, USB. Hundred and twenty bucks that I can't afford right now, and I can't bring myself to use the company card for that kind of thing. But maybe in the future...

I missed quite a few, didn't I?

So we'll modify the injunction.

Does this pink highlighter make me look less manly?

My fingers smell like bleach. My work isn't getting done. My wife wants us to take my daughter to Lakemont Park today. I can't fathom the time commitment. I can't fathom anything.

I'm unabashed here: there are spaces to fill on my little pink-highlightered paper telling me which dates are unwritten. I'm writing some of the dates now, with no pretense that it's going to be anything but filler. There's at least a hint of a motivation here, to check things off (even if that's like a list, and I hate lists, even if lists would allow me to... better, it's not going to, let.s).

I can't fathom anything. I'm not working because i'm doing this, but it's still a Saturday and I've accomplished some things there. I can't fathom driving the 2 hours (or less?) to Lakemont Park today because I feel like I should be working, even if... if.

It's not.

So this is why people give up on these things?

And later, maybe we'll go, maybe we won't. In truth it's as much about the idea of going there, where there's some waterpark that my wife things our daughter will enjoy, that stifles my energy. Hours of sun and the daughter not wanting to let us put sunscreen on her and the tons of people screaming and the headache that will without doubt accompany those things, the driving and the daughter enjoying it for a while but quickly wanting nothing but to go where she shouldn't, to climb whatever's too high and too dangerous, to jump off of things, the short tempers and the sun that'll keep on burning, and the headache that will keep on burning, and the screaming others and no where to go no way to get out no "let's sit down for a while," just a day of unrelenting.

I love them and I love doing things with them. Sometimes my wife over-estimates the amount of patience our daughter has. We took her to a local, very small zoo a few weeks back and that was perfect. That was not a day long commitment. By the time we were finished seeing the animals she was struggling to run off and obviously done doing the structured thing. That kind of thing works well for me, and I would do something like that in a heartbeat. I am struggling though to decide about this amusement park thing. I hate waterparks, my wife likes them. This could be as much for her as for our daughter.

Decisions shouldn't be so hard to make. Spontaneity doesn't seem to work anymore. Spontaneity with children can quickly crash into a guardrail. And try to climb on it. And jump off. And want a pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. POP!!! POP!!!!! POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Past,

YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD ME FOOLED, DIDN'T YOU? You skipped a day and thought I'd miss it because it's a holiday.

THINK AGAIN, CORN NUT.

- Present

P.S. You did a terrible job of managing this thing.

Dear Future:

Send money.

- Present