Lately

It has been another long while since I have blogged and that is because these days there is only one thing on my mind and I am keeping it on the DL. I tried to think about other subjects to blog about, besides this one, but I just couldn't! But come to think of it, no one reads my blog really anyways except for those people who already know. I am pregnant! It feels so weird to write that. I think it is the first time I have written that. Seems like something big will happen when i say it. Like the clouds will part and angels will appear Or something scary like i don't know what. Kind of like when you turn 16 and you are a teenager staring in the mirror thinking you should look different, but you don't. i said I was pregnant 20 seconds ago and all is still the same in the world. I think it is in my heart that the birds must be singing and the angels dancing and in my head that the fear and worry leaps out. Because it feels so intense inside of me is why i expect it to appear like a cacophony of lights and sound outside of me when i say it. "I'm pregnant" Saying it out loud is the same. You almost want to start looking around to see if something happened after the words come out of your mouth. My friend Johanna even asked me, How does it feel to say it? So apparently this must be a common feeling. That is a relief. i am glad to know I am like all the other women. And i wouldn't be surprised, in fact i am certain, that the daddys-to-be must feel the same way. But of course they would never admit it.

Absurd?

I was reading up on Albert Camus because my therapist told me I have Existential Depression. Don't you love labels. I already am the proud owner of sober alcoholic dyslexic with obsessive-compulsive tendencies to name a few. Add existentially depressed and I am oh so profound. Not to mention borderline genius. (Existential depression is usually found in gifted people.) I do some Wikipedia research so I can fully represent my new label. When I think Existential, I think Camus, The Stranger, “Standing on the beach with a gun in my hand,” The Cure circa 1980. But to my surprise I find out Camus does not want to be known for existentialism, but that his belief was Absurdism. Basically the jist of what Camus says is that it is absurd to attempt to find meaning in the universe because there is none. This leaves one with 3 choices: Suicide, Leap of faith or Acceptance. He chose acceptance, which according to him lies true freedom, passion and the choice to make your life mean whatever you want it to. I can get down with that. And for today I choose to believe that there has got to be a bigger meaning somehow somewhere and I may never know it and that is okay. I will just live life to the fullest and give back the best I can. SO, first stop on my way out of the neighborhood of languid squalor: Absurdism. Which means I am no longer existentially depressed. Darn.

By the way- Wikipedia has this all listed in a handy dandy chart for your philosphical pleasure.

Languid Squalor

I have been inspired once again by my friend Quel to re initiate my blog postings. My entries since I started this blog have been spotty at best. However, they now appear obsolete since my first two postings because I deleted them! They were depressing. Not that I am for only writing happy things, the act of writing is an effective cathartis of all emotions, but my depressing futile ramblings were, well, futile. And, not that I need to be brilliant at every posting either, but I, at the minimum, strive for a modicum of entertainment or knowledge value no matter how depressing. Looking back, I can safely blame those depressing posts on the fact that I have allowed the left brained job I have been sinking into for sometime drive my right brain into a neighborhood of languid squalor thus resulting in oppressed, repressed sad postings of nothingness. I hope to revive and redeem myself from here on out. More to come.