Manteca Bulletin: still inferior, but in a whole new way

Kudos to the Manteca Bulletin for updating the lame design of its old online presence to the slightly less-lame new look.

Razzes to the Manteca Bulletin online newspaper for feeling it necessary to offer a "How to Navigate Our New Site" link. "Click the links at top and side to go somewhere. Click the headline, read the story." That shit should be intuitive, and pretty much is for anyone who's ever read a web page. Duh...

Let's hope the new and improved website includes a full-time proofreader, because even worse than the old design was the regular and simple grammatical and spelling errors.

Hope

I awoke today looking for some point, some reason. Over a period of years, my idea of a raison d'etre has slipped from having something to look forward to every day, to having some sort of goal towards which I can trudge for a sense of satisfaction, to where I am occasionally now: I just hope for one slippery thing to hang onto to get me from day to day. Sitting at home has never been the languid paradise I pictured, especially when money is tight, and one wants to contribute more.

I didn't get here overnight, and I won't get out of this quagmire overnight either. I know good things are just on the horizon, I just have to get that idea into my bones again, get on that roll.

This morning, the needle of my compass gave me the finger, and told me to go figure it out myself. I puttered around the house, made some minor phone calls, stumbled through some housework like The Mummy on methadone, trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Life = hope, and one of the worst things to do is to become still and allow the current to take me down. I'd rather dog-paddle than sink.

I just got done lifting some weights, trying to get some endorphins pumping - even my endocrine system has abandoned me! Oh well - I suppose one more workout on the calendar will pay off in a medium-term way, even if I've bottomed out for instant gratification.

The one sin I'd really like to avoid is being bummed in front of my wife. She hates my stupors more than I do, and they weigh her down. Me, I've learned to deal with my own stagnancy, like a pig wallowing in shit, but I can't bear to take her into the pit with me. This alone is reason enough to escape the shadows.

This post didn't want to be so sullen - I really meant to jot down something about shaking off the doldrums and finding meaning, regardless of all I can find to moan about. Sometimes the words line up how you want 'em to, and sometimes, they cut their own path. Meh - whattayagonnado?

Success, failure, rage and wasted DVD's

The last day or two have been pretty good, whether it shows or not. I have been cleaning things up, fixing things, and it gives my soul an erection for two reasons: the homestead looks better as a result (aligning more closely with what I consider to be the correct state of being), and I live for a feeling of accomplishment.

Today, all that came to and end, and despite my best, and I mean my best efforts, the day has hit the wall as far as accomplishment is concerned. I am frustrated at every effort. I am trying not to take it personally, as one of my biggest disappointments was that Nero Express 3 wouldn't burn a DVD for me, but would happily destroy blank DVD after blank DVD in the attempt, chewing them up and spitting them out like a digital wood-chipper. It is comforting to me that it's not my failing that the damned program is boning the dog, it's the program that can't seal the deal. Even so, it is painfully disappointing that I can't complete a simple task, for which I apparently have the hardware, software and skill. That it won't occur makes me feel as if I am an orphan of reality, for whom the laws that I have come to live by have suddenly been repealed. The sun has taken the day off, and the morning sky is carelessly, even spitefully, dark.

It's more than DVD burning. I am learning not to be stubborn when things don't go my way, but it's tough. For the first 25 years of my life, it has seemed a virtue to put my head down, grit my teeth and plug away all the harder when results aren't what you require. Tenacity was the watchword, but I am learning there is more to determination than obstinacy, but I am slow to learn, slow even to realize things aren't working and it's time to slow down and pay attention long enough to take a lesson.

So today, I am shutting down the machinery early in the cycle of crashing into the wall of unsuccess. Put the (figurative) knife down, and back away, before I do something I can't undo: break material goods, hurt someone's feelings, etc.

And so, deeply I breathe, slowly I move, and carefully I speak, before I bite off a head or lash out.

Little by little

Adding to the maintenance momentum, I cleaned out our neglected spa. It needed it, and now awaits the day we fix whatever minor breakdown ails it. It's not much, but light a candle, don't curse the darkness, and all that...

I got wood

I snuck outside and planted a fencepost yesterday, on my back lot, smack in the middle of the most unruly, poorly-planned fencing this side of the Sanford & Son junkyard. It is my hope that this fencepost will be as a seed, planted in the ugliest center of hickdom, growing a gate and a more-civilised looking fence, spanning the portion of the lot that now features some beaten-down construction fencing, stinking up the neighborhood with visual pollution.

It felt good to do something around here, to beat back the forces of entropy that threaten to swallow the place whole. It is also my hope to continue the trend, and de-uglify the place some more.