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Two years...

After getting out of the hot tub tonight, I started talking to my mom (or an empty room, depending upon what your beliefs are) .It’s something that I’ve only done a handful of times .Right in the middle of it, I realized that today is the two year anniversary of her death.

As I’ve mentioned a number of times on the Float-e-cast, I think of her all the time. In some ways it seems like she’s been gone forever. The other day I picked up a journal of hers, written just as I had graduated from high school and moved out.

Man, do I miss her…

There is more forward momentum on me leaving the country — at least temporarily. I’ll be going to France and Africa at the beginning of next year, if all goes to plan. My mom would be really happy, since she was really concerned that when I joined the academic hoop-jumping again, that I would lose sight of my art. This will be jamming me right into it again. Puppeteering for television was one of my big dreams as a child. I would say that was one of my big dreams as an adult, but that would only be a piece of the picture. The dreams of adulthood are much more expansive, though they definitely have puppeteering on television in there somewhere. There’s also the issue of friends, family (including having kids, of course), being generally inspired both creatively, and by life in general. — that is one thing that academic is good for: throwing a damp rag on inspiration. The only things that really get me worked up in academic and are the people that I meet who don’t quite belong there, but somehow ended up there anyway.

Speaking of: today I had stupid day of twitchiness in class. One of my classes — the class that I spent spring break writing a paper for — as 650 people in it. The way that attendance is taken, and the way that quizzes are taken, is with this little remote control device. The professor will allow the cost to discuss things during quizzes. Today he quizzed us on the books that I did my paper on. I’m not sure, but I think I got two out of three wrong. I’m a genius. It had more to do with my Swiss cheese memory sieve than anything else. The only problem was that during the discussion of the questions, I piped up as absolutely certain of one of the questions, which turned out to be wrong. This meant I basically dragged about 200 people in with me. After the quiz, I grabbed a microphone (which is what we have to use to address the instructor), and asked him to clarify the question. This further pointed out how little I retained from the reading. Then I sat in my chair and Kuwait and had facial spasms and of lots of headshaking, as I chastised myself. I could observe it from the outside while it was happening, but would then get pulled right back into it. It was interesting — basically an OCD twitchfest. Thank the Lucky Lord that I had my time in the secret society/cult/what ever you want to call it. The simple Swiss Army knife of their spiritual tools are great for such compulsive brain squeezinz. The heart of it is, is that there is no real problem in any of what happened. And it’s all just made up brain seizure cartoons.

Anyway, as I was saying before I so rudely cut myself off again: I do miss my mom. I have a grandma who just turned 89 yesterday, and I forgot to call her for her birthday. I’m a genius redux. Every now and again I sit and think about that: the idea of having another almost 50 years left in my life. I seriously doubt I will get there, with the amount of caffeine that I drink, and sugar that I pack down my mouth hole.

V is in Florence Italy for a work conference. I have the house to myself for a week. She’ll have the house to herself for six months, starting at the end of the year. She tells me about 10 times a day about how sad she will be, and how much he will miss me. She wants to make plans, or explore certain ideas, certain what-ifs. I just can’t really go there, because there are so many variables in play that I can even begin to process them. If the television show goes exceptionally well, and this turns into a long career move (which, honestly speaking, I would love), I have no idea how about will play itself out between us. Only time will tell…

It’s time for me to go draw something. You really should start posting some of the stuff to the Web, given that the last float-e-cast album art has been in my illustration pane for 1 billion years now. I’ve been doing a little drawing every single night since the beginning of the year. That IS how Candycartoon got started after all…

I’m tired. I love this dictation software. I miss my mom.

Again: I’m not proofreading any of this — so if there are any weird turns of phrase, or bad spelling, blame it on Mr. Computer. He is mean.

The big, fat words of eeno at April 04, 2008 11:06 PM