I am continuing to more or less keep up with my resolution to daylog at least weekly.

So here's my thought for the day. There is a sort of phenomenon of perception going on out in the world, between vegetarians and meat lovers, a seeming mutuality of contempt. There's a joke -- how can you tell if somebody is a vegetarian? Don't worry, they'll tell you. This is I think intended to capture the popular notion that vegetarians are braggarts hoisting a conviction of moral superiority. And indeed, there are perhaps just enough of my fellows who exude such an air to feed the popular image. But my personal experience after over a decade as a vegetarian has been the opposite. The people in my close-knit circle of friends tend to share in this practice so it doesn't come up there at all, but it seems that often enough in the mixed company of a public event like a wedding reception or a wake, it will come out when somebody seeks to insist that I try some meat dish, or simply notices the lack of meat on plate. And then comes the response of that person making a show of the meat they are eating, "oh, look at me, I'm eating a dead cow, this meat is so juicy and delicious."

People I barely know have surprisingly aggressively gotten into my space with a hamburger or a slice of beef or the like, mocking the fact of my preference for avoiding eating such. There have been pointed questions. Yes, I once was a carnivore; yes, I remember the taste of it; no, my health hasn't suffered; no, I don't miss it at all -- oh, there was a time when I did, but that's so long past that the notion of eating another animal seems as alien as eating a typewriter or a pocket watch. And it is, naturally, not everybody who displays such antics, indeed only a very, very few who do so. But perhaps just enough to leave vegetarians like me with the feeling that meat lovers are contemptuous types, hoisting a conviction of, if not moral superiority, some other kind of it.


In auditing news:

borgo -- on page 6 of.... 20-something.
borgette -- done!! (borgette seems to have stopped noding a few years back, and I wish she'd node again; but then I wish that of most everyone who used to but stopped somewhere along the line)

In my node auditing, I've been coming across a lot of pieces by Jack. There's irony there, as I long ago wrote a summary of the name history at Jack. Think I'll node audit Jack. Yeah.



Lest anybody ask, yes, my vegetarianism is in part corollary to my Pandeism, as I desire not to contribute to the infliction of suffering on animals which I believe make up part of the experience of our Creator. I have mentioned before, I feel no compunction against eating those eggs produced by fairly cared-for chickens raised on family farms whose proprietors are familiar to me.

I'm not feeling very good. I took some meds, drank two massive cups of coffee, went out with a nice girl, and got amicably rejected. That's how the day has ended. Final, in a way most days aren't, except for this caffeine and drug induced insomnia that I've bought upon myself afterwards. I don't know what more to say, but I'll try.

When I got up today and scrambled to the bus station, I saw a clump of pubes. They were resting on the ground, like a tiny misshapen pubic tumbleweed. My first thought was that they would make great descriptive daylog fodder. My second thought was how they got there. Maybe someone purposely threw them outside in a clump so they could see the world. A nice gesture, considering how rarely pubes get to experience the outside world without being sqooshed into some sticky orifice or another.

Anyway, the bus came and I got on. I was twenty minutes late for my first class, but nobody cared. All my classes are leftover prereqs this summer and are more or less about material I learned in grade school. I was literally taught the definition of summarizing and paraphrasing today. That's how low the expectations are for these classes.

To be fair, most of my fellow students are non-native speakers. There are at least two Caribbean black men in my basic comp class with accents so thick you could wedge a door open with them. Others have arrived here from various subsections of South America. One of the most interesting (to me) is a very nice Russian transgender woman who seems to have had a very interesting life that I would definitely ask about if I wasn't afraid of somehow offending her and getting punched out. It's not that she's extremely manly or anything (really, quite pretty all things considered) but her arms are positively jacked and she works "in construction". I don't want to mess with that.

Hmm. She does have great taste in shoes though. Maybe I should tell her that.

Anyway, after school today I went home, cleaned up, and hung out with an old friend who I made the mistake of asking out afterwards. As I said, I got rejected. I have another date coming up, but I'm not enthused. I feel empty all the time. Creativity comes and goes but seems mostly to be waning. Right now I'm too stimulated not to write something; I hope you don't blame me if this is no good. Not that I need your validation, but it would be nice.

Oh god, I'm desperate.

Okay, I'm sorry. This isn't the way it's supposed to go. I'm three days into the second summer of turning my life around and I'm still whinging like it's Day 1. I should treat this part of my life like it's going to be a movie montage someday. It's funny how they never show the hero falling apart in those montages. It's just assumed he focuses his life on one thing and risks it all for one thing without ever falling down. Just punching the frozen cow until he's all done. Then bam, it's fight time.

And yeah, I know he loses. But he gets the girl, right?


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