Meme? Nono. JonJon!

I ran across a meme called "8 Random Facts About Me" where you're supposed to list eight facts about yourself. Blech. I'm vain and plenty narcissistic, but I have a better idea; I'm gonna write eight random facts about my very good friend, Jon Miller. Hopefully none of them will have anything to do with me, but I make no promises.

Eight Random Facts About Jon Miller:

1. His middle name: Lee. His dad's middle name: Emil.
2. He and his lovely wife just bought a new Honda Accord. They fight about who gets to drive it.
3. He used to be a kickass drummer. I don't think he's played since high school, but for all I know, he may still be a kickass drummer.
4. He used to have this small animal trap that he'd bait with peanut butter. He took glee from poking the critters with sticks, but he always let them go, unhurt.
5. He's pretty damn good at baseball. Not bad at kickball, too.
6. It's so damn fun to razz him about stuff - he gets so amusingly bent out of shape if you push the right buttons. But he always snaps right back to happy.
7. He's incredibly good at hamming it up in front of a camera.
8. He's one of the most optimistic, happy-go-lucky people I know. And he's an excellent friend.

Badger?

I was at work today, having a perfectly civil conversation with my boss in his office, when a woman I work with barged in and told me I have hair like a badger.I was caught too off-guard by this to come back with a witty retort; all I managed was a "Gee, thanks. I think." She tried to laugh it off, but it got all awkward for a moment before she asked my boss a question about something unrelated to what *I* was discussing with him before she bulldozed in.

How fast would I get punted in the nuts by women if I went around comparing their hair to that of small ugly creatures? "Hey there, nice innocent lady - your hair looks like an otter." *PUNT*

Even if my hair DOES look like a badger, I don't think I want people telling me so.

Creativity.

To the two or three of you out there still keeping up on this sad excuse for a blog, I apologize. I'm not sure what's wrong with me - I've had plenty of interesting things to write about, but no more than a thin fog of words to commit to electrons. I've got four drafts started, none with more than a sentence or two and nowhere to go.

I'm guarded with my thoughts and feelings right now, like they're a nut I need to stash away in order to survive. I've been wanting to vent, but the time or circumstances just never feel right.

Is it bad that I'm just now mixing my first drink of the evening, at nine minutes after midnight on a Tuesday? Is it worse that I'm drinking a White Russian out of a frosty beer mug because I'm too lazy to go get some ice? Hmm. If I did this more often, I might resemble a drinking problem.

Photographer Robert Capa once said: "If your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough." I suspect that can apply to me and this blog, too. The writing here is not good enough because I'm not letting myself get close enough.

Therapy: a break.

I've not blogged about therapy recently because I've decided to take a break from it for awhile. I've only got 9 sessions left for 2008, so my plan is to take what I've learned and run with it for now, then head back in later in the year when I've got questions.

I felt like I was breaking up with my therapist when I called her, but she wasn't in the office when I called. I sometimes view therapists/shrinks with a skeptical eye, always a little wary of being roped into a situation where I feel like I need to do it. I've even caught a vibe from my therapist once or twice where it seemed like she was trying to sink some hooks into me. So I'm nipping that in the bud, as it were, and taking a break.

I may still post about some of the issues I'm working on from time to time.