I Might Barf

This is how I've felt all day today. I don't know why. I don't feel that bad physically, just kind of barfy. But if one more person asks me if I'm nauseous because I'm pregnant I'll barf on them.

First off, I'm not pregnant. But the thing that irks me is that so many people have asked. Now, to be clear, there can be no question physically about whether I'm pregnant. I weigh a little more than I'd like, but there is no way that someone would ask because of my appearance. But that's not the point. The point is: At what point did it become polite to ask someone you barely know if they're pregnant? Especially based on the evidence that I feel a little nauseous. I would never ask anyone I work with if they were pregnant. I might not ask a good friend.

Pregnancy is definitely something that should be left to the gestating party to reveal. Sure, time will eventually do the job, too, but christ, don't ask.

It's amazing how free people feel to invade your privacy. But it's also amazing how quickly people will just give it up.

I have a myspace profile. There's relatively little on it. Because I don't want any person who stumbles upon my profle to know every last detail of my life. But I see plenty of people's profiles all the time where they disclose every last detail of their lives to anyone who's willing to read it. I don't get it.

I have a few friends who have myspace profiles where they reveal not only what they've been eating for the last month, but where they live, work, when they have dates and when they get laid. WTF? And then when they end up with people acting inappropriately on their page, they get upset.

I've been thinking about getting rid of my myspace page for a while now. First of all, I think I'm getting a little long in the tooth for that kind of thing, if you know what I mean. But secondly, I've had a few unwelcome visitors. Why do that to myself? I'm not trying to debate the merits of different social networking sites, but at least facebook keeps a little tighter lid on things.

But I digress. The intent was to say mind your business. So that's it. Mind your business. Don't worry about anyone else's. Especially mine. Thanks.


New Town, New Habits

I have arrived. Not in the old fashioned "I've made it" kind of way, but in a literal sense. I have arrived in a new city. Sin City. Las Vegas. Loosely known as the desert to those of us from the far left of the nation, and the place I used to refer to as "the place where dreams go to die."

I've been here a while now, though, and I like it. Sure, for many people (those who take their life-savings/entire paycheck to the casino) it still is the place where dreams go to die, but as far as I'm concerned it has everything I need right now. Plus no State tax.

No, I don't love the heat. Today's high (so far) is 105. I haven't lived any place this hot since Texas. Although, as they say (whoever they are), at least it's a dry heat. Yeah. It's usually pretty dry in an oven, too. But I'm here...because this is where I'm supposed to be right now.

Why am I supposed to be here? Have I committed a crime and am being punished? No. Quite the contrary. For the first time in my life, I did something a little impulsive and it paid off. I'm happier than I ever thought was possible.

In the mean time, I've found a way to torture myself, too. No one should be ecstatically happy and not have some way to punish themselves, right? So now I actually willingly walk into a room that's 105+ degrees and at least 40% humidity. It's horrible and I love it. Bikram.

If you ever have the chance to move to Vegas, I'm not going to recommend it, but as I said, it's where I'm supposed to be right now.