My old friend Mig asked me to guest-author a post today since he is suffering from stress at the moment due to worrying whether he’ll be able to hack the metamorphosism challenge idea-wise, also his wife just called him all shaky-voiced and told him that she’d just been in a traffic accident but was okay but her car she just forced mechanics to fix yesterday for free is like, whoa, dude, and she won’t be going in to work today after all, that feasibility study will just have to wait, and best of all it wasn’t her fault; his favorite uncle’s heart attack had of course been getting to him as well, frustrating to be so far away and limited to email news and occasional telephone calls; but the old guy phoned Mig himself last night from the hospital bed and sounded good, a little shaky and weak, but you know, he’d just had a fucking heart attack, they’d restarted his heart one dozen times in a single day, you know? Also it was the first time the guy’d been on drugs in eighty years, so given all that he sounded quite impressive. All this worrying – Mig hadn’t thought it was affecting him, but his family noticed and he had to admit it when they pointed it out. Disoriented (more than usual), amnesiac and forgetful to a concerning degree. Of course, Mig is a wussy, people go through far more than this on a daily basis, but he decided to take a day off from blogging.

Personally, I support his decision. It’s important to give yourself a mental health day now and again, even if nothing major seems to be eating at you. It’s the little things that make you snap, after all. The empty gas tanks and the broken shoestrings. The moldy toast bread in the morning when you’re out of everything else, the daily grind of a career that didn’t take off the way you thought it would, you know, like you’re surfing porn in a cubicle instead of writing the great novel you expected, or instead of starring in jungle action films you’re fucking jumping through hoops somewhere, Vegas say, for a couple flashy German twats.

We all have our breaking point.

Go find some moss somewhere and lie down before you start forgetting where you put your glasses. Embrace the sublime for a couple minutes. If anyone asks what the hell you’re up to, send them to me.

Take the metamorphosism.com challenge.

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Like many of you, I have on occasion received unsatisfactory service from auto mechanics, so when my wife took her car into the Fiat dealer because she had to turn off the engine whenever she wanted to shift into “first” gear or “reverse”, and expected them to do it for free because they had just done a general overhaul for the annual sticker you have to get here and gave her a clean bill of health, I just laughed to myself and wished her luck.

Turns out when I wish someone luck, it actually works. They fixed it for free, because they’d just gone over her car and gave it a clean bill of health.

Also, Arnold Schwarzenegger appears to be the new governor of California. On the bright side, some Americans seem to be getting over their fixation on candidates’ private lives; this could mean that, in the future, qualified candidates will no longer stumble over past fun. On the dim side, etc etc.

Person: All the stores are closed, we’ll have to try the gas stations.
Other Person: Thanks.
[Later]
Person: What about these?
Other Person: No, I want the ones with wings.
Person: Okay. We’ll get these little cans of coffee, though, so the cashier doesn’t think we’re weird.
Other Person: Does it taste good?
Person: Not sure.
[Later]
OP: You’re the best dad.
P: How come?
OP: I bet other dads wouldn’t drive to so many gas stations looking for them.
P: I bet they would. Sure they would.
OP: No way.
P: Your average dad is way underrated, man.
[Later]
OP: I really hate it when they don’t have a trash can in the bathroom, you know?
P: I suppose so.
OP: I’ve seen them stuck to walls.
P: EW!
OP: I mean, it’s easier to flush a baby down the toilet than one of those.
P:!!! [Thinks: That has a biblical ring to it.]
[Later]
P: Look, wings. Yay.
OP: Yep.

And while I’m on the subject, there are three kinds of drivers that bug me on the freeway:

1. those who want to go faster than I’m going, although I’m going perfectly fast enough and tailgate although they could easily pass in most cases and sometimes flash their goddamn lights the assholes;

2. those who insist on going slower than I am and it doesn’t occur to them to do that in the slow lane and they poke along in the fast lane no matter how close I get to their bumper or blink my lights;
3. and worst of all those who start out going slower than you, but then speed up to match your speed when you try to pass them, resulting in you driving perfectly parallel to them with a driver from group 1 on your bumper, flashing his lights at you. An entertaining sub-class of this latter group are those who you finally pass, then they get mad at you and pass you again, and usually slow back down. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Do you ever have days where you just don’t know yourself? Where you find yourself doing things you thought yourself incapable of? Of which you thought yourself incapable, I mean? I am speaking of driving, and overreacting at the minor stupidities of others, and finding yourself in your car afterwards, shaky with the aftermath of an adrenaline rush, wondering what *that* was all about and what exactly did that demonstration achieve and am I as evolved as I thought I was?

So if you were driving in Vienna today, and a man in a Dobl

What would Gamma do is a good question to keep in mind when dealing with life’s vagaries, whatever the hell a vagary is. Ah, caprice, impulse, whim. Okay. I’d been worried about her in school, you’ll recall. In particular, boys poking her with pencils and a dumb teacher.

My wife does have an appointment to talk with the teacher again today (“Stop letting boys poke Gamma with you!”) But in the meantime Gamma (it’s too cumbersome to keep calling her “the youngest one”.) seems to be adapting well. The principal of the school told us a while back she’d been observing the kid, who she figures is sneaky enough to survive. For example, the way she circumvents the recess rule. They have several recesses, but are allowed out of the classroom for only one. It works like this: all kids can run around in the school (they don’t have much of a playground) during the big lunch recess. Then, during the other shorter recesses, they have to stay in their rooms, except for one class each time that gets to go out through the school (they can play with toys etc lying about). This is to minimize chaos in the school, I think.

So what Gamma does is, during the main recess, she makes appointments with her girlfriends from other classes (although in the first grade, she hangs out with older kids from second and fourth grade) to meet in the bathroom during the smaller recesses, where they smoke cigarettes or whatever. That way, she gets to play with her friends during every recess, not just one. I think she figured this out on her own.