The Cliffs of Insanity

The Cliffs of Insanity turns 12 tomorrow. In pre-college years, it would be graduating high school.

I began this journal 2 years before Smidgen came into my life. I began this journal 9 years before losing Aunt Tudi. I began this journal 11 years before abandoning everything I had ever truly ever known, and moved west with the Mother Unit, what little hope I thought I had left, nestled away in a tiny pocket I keep buried in my brain.

Over the course of these twelve years, I have experienced love and shock and passion and success. I've seen dreams come true and hopes shattered. I have forged my own philosophies, and I have returned to my long-term position of agnosticism. I have met some miraculous souls and bonded friendships whilst, at the same time, losing friends I never thought I'd say goodbye to. I've lost the most important person in my life, which threw me into an admission to myself I still can't write about. Some have already guessed, but I have never, nor will I ever, acknowledge it. Unspoken love is unspoken for a reason.

I have tried to commit suicide more than once. As this post clearly indicates, I'm rather deficient in that talent. Do I still think about it? Every day. The thought of it comforts me in a way nothing else can.

It has been my friends, more than anything, that have kept me alive. Most often, I thank them for this, but I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I resent their meddling. I'm not a brave person, nor am I a hard worker, or anything special enough to really be missed in this world. I most often feel like a burden to my family and many of my friends. My logic is, the world would be better off without me. Then again, the world would be better off without humanity, period. I'm just offering to volunteer as one of the first to go.

Still, I persist, as does The Cliffs of Insanity. If you've been with me for the majority of this decade, you know the blog's name lives up to its legacy. I would hope that Wallace Shawn would be proud.

I don't know what the next 12 years will bring, if they bring anything else. I hesitate to predict, because I would never have predicted some of the things that happened in the first 12 years of the 21st Century. I'll leave that mumbo-jumbo up to Miss Cleo. Just know that, in my own anti-social and vicious way, I love all of you, and I hope you love me too, if only for a brief moment in this infinity of uncertainty we call existence.

I should be getting my camera charger in the next day or so. When I do, I'll be taking photos of my new Steven Spielberg neighborhood during my walks out with Toblerone.

Today, I got the cooking bug, and have made a beef stew, with top round roast, new potatoes (white and red), carrots, onions, and garlic. It's smelling good, if I do say so myself. This is the first stew I've ever made, so I'm hoping it turns out well, seeing as how this is only the second thing I've ever cooked for the Mother Unit, and she's used to Matt's cooking. Matt is professionally trained. There's no way I can out-do him, but I'm hoping I can at least keep the Unit happy in the culinary department whilst he's away with family in Portland.

My right knee has just about had it. I'm going to have to get to a doctor soon before I scream and die. This is not dramatics, it's just plain fact. I have a large pocket of fluid right on the front of the knee, below the patella. It hurts like all Sith Hell, and walking Toby every couple of hours in a hilly environment is not helping my severe state of disability.

Apparently LJ has a new feature that ranks your journal in, I suppose, popularity. This is what I got:



I'm not really certain I agree with that, considering I've been more AWOL than not these past couple of years. Surely, I'd be further down on the totem pole. That's okay, though; I'll take it. Hopefully, my ranking will climb now that I'm trying to be more active here again. We'll see.

If you're curious about what your ranking is, just go to the LJ home page, and it should be right there near the top. Of course, you have to be logged in for it to show.

Must go stir the stew again. It's almost ready to be devoured, hopefully with enthusiasm. Gordon Ramsay, eat your heart out!

I've been going through all the posts (almost 10k) and I'm pernear overwhelmed by the fuckton of public stupidity. The LJ is quite well-named methinks. I've toddled up through the last half of 2008 and, honestly, I'm too freaked out to go any further for now.

Honestly, I can't believe I've kept this blog current for so long. I figured it would only last a few weeks before I lost interest.

Sort of like the only five Tim Roth Tutorials I was going to make.

Things get out of hand. Crap gets said. In public. That which is unleashed cannot be re-chained with complete success.

The Cliffs of Insanity is my Kraken. Someone needs to hold up a gorgon's head and stop the madness.

BUT...

Although tempted to lock down the whole thing and set fire to the Internet to raze this monstrous creation from existence, I'm gonna trudge onward, but doubtfully upward. Because, apparently, that's how I roll; refusing to learn lessons smacked upside my head.

::blows little paper birthday horn thingie and tosses a few scraps of confetti::

This goes out to anyone who commented on any post in my journal in the past week or so. My settings became a victim of jiggery-pokery, and I was not receiving comment notifications in the mail, so I didn't know anything was going on. Sorry about that.

This is a post to see if my formatting issues from yesterday have been solved. Since I had to change browsers, everything has been a bit wacky. I made a post from Semagic yesterday that consisted of a considerable number of paragraphs and photies. It appeared to be formatted fine in the Semagic window, but it resulted in a blobular mess when posted to LJ. So I decided to uninstall Semagic altogether, since I'd originally installed it via IE, and reinstall in Safari. We'll see how this goes.

That was paragraph number one. This is number two.

Paragraph three has to do with my frakking ankle, which hurts like a toothache from hell. The doctor to whom I was referred may not be able to see me until after the stupid 4 July joke of a horribleday. I had to cancel the dogs' grooming appointment and my eye exam appointment for today, considering that I can't get around very well.

Paragraph four reminds me of that song, "Don't Get Around Much Anymore." hahahaha.

Five ~ Let's see how this works.

This is post number 9000 on the Cliffs of Insanity.

I'm taking a brief Internet holiday, but should be back soon.

9000 W0000!

Duuuude...

This is post #8888!

Here are all my stats as it stands right now.

I've updated my profile page. You can go look and see, if you wish. I added mucho Shriekness to it. There seemed to be a moral imperative there that I'd failed to follow. It's fixed now, though.