Dreams of Mars

Last night, I fell asleep very quickly. Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. We'd been planning to wake up around 12:30am and trying to catch a glimpse of Mars since it hasn't been this close to Earth in 60-70,000 years. Well, we didn't make it up. I was zonked out. But, I had very vivid and real dreams about waking up and looking out of the window in my underwear to see what the view would be.

First, in my dream, I went to the window in our bedroom. It faces East towards more apartment and there's a lot of artifical light making it difficult to make out any stars. Well, I remember seeing the Red Planet. It appeared closer and bigger than I thought it would. I thought it would just be a spec of red shimmer, but I could make out a rough red terrain. My naked eye could make out vast seas of red rock craters, looking much like the moon's surface. Mars was partially in shadow. While remember thinking it looked like a very minuscle blood moon, the War God kept his distance. I went back to bed in my dream.

Later, I dreamt of the Martian planet again. This time, I got of my bed and drearily walked into the kid's room. He was in a heavy sleep. The window here faced west and less street light made making out the night sky an easier task. There was Mars again, much more brilliant than before. It seemed bigger without a shadow to hide it but still he didn't come closer. The seas of craters were much easier to make out. I stood in awe of the heavenly site for a few moments and went back to bed.

This morning, I am feeling very sleepy. That and how vividly I remember these dreams makes me wonder if I was sleepwalking or having some sort of out-of-body experience. Since I haven't been know to sleepwalk (hit, yes, walk no), perhaps I did have an OOBE. Though, I have real difficulty believing that. My subconscious and conscious were most likely working hand in hand. The conscious me knowing that I wanted to see the night sight and the subconscious me agreeing to make it happen.

One Big (Fucking) Lie

Sexual Powertrip (One Big Lie) Bla Bla*
From the album "History for Sale"**
by Blue October

I'm sorry for the way I treated you.
I'm stuck in my ways to just run
In the opposite way when things get comfortable.
I'll keep on licking 'til your flavor is gone.

But it's getting more impossible
To keep a straight face
And be trusted with
I love you.
(One Big Lie)
I love you.
(Blah blah blah blah blah blah)

Don't trust me words when I'm in bed with you.
I'll bring the message but the message gets lost.
Yeah, you opened your legs and maybe
I promised you...
You didn't notice that my ankels were crossed.

But it's getting more impossible
To keep a straight face
And be trusted with
I love you.
(One Big Lie)

Can you show me how to treat someone?
I don't recall ever learning how.
Because I keep fucking up.
I keep fucking up.


*The views presented in this song do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of the management at Everything Grey. They do, however, think this song kicks ass all over the place.

**Management likes the irony of an CD called "History for Sale" being all about former relationships.

Net Handles

This post at Hatley.Org got me thinking about my various net handles. I was going to leave comment over there, but then I realized I'd written a book and didn't to leave a novel in the comments section. So, here ya go...

The Net Handle for me has been a way to help me keep some aminimity while showing a little personality. My very first handle was hootie o'c - never capitalized. Why? I don't really know. It was just different. The name came from a RPG character I played with. Cyberpunk was the game and since the game involved pretending to surf the 'net and hack, I thought it was rather appropriate. Hootie O'Conner was his name. And - as I'm sure you can probably guess - yes, Hootie and the Blowfish were just hitting it big at the time I named the character.

I used hootie o'c for a while because, really, who the heck is gonna use that?? I really don't like using my name because there are so many of us. And I really hate the thought of being M*******L***1234567@whatever.com. My email address was always hootieoc@whateverISPIwasusing.com.

That was 8 or so years ago back in college. The internet was just a fledgling and mostly text. This was the handle I used at the chatrooms I'd frequent. But, I grew more mature and hootie o'c just didn't fit the bill any more. After hootie, I was space dog,but that didn't fit or last very long.

I can't remember exactly when I came up with the next name. I'm not quite sure how it stuck, but I'll try to explain. I needed a new name for whatever reason, like I said hootie o'c didn't cut it anymore. I remember I was living in Bum Fuck, Louisiana at the very beginning of my career. The friends I did have lived over 30 minutes away. For people living in a small town, that's a long drive. Now, that I live in Concrete Central, 30 minutes is a drive to the grocery store. Anyway, I, basically, had no friends in town and my co-workers weren't the type of folks I wanted to hang with. Needless to say, I became lonely and depressed. The internet was a great tool for getting out, as strange as that statement looks.

While in this depressed state, I came up with Sawrowe - quite simply, a respelling of sorrow. That was a depressing time in my life and, true to form, the name fit. It's kind of dark and implies a little mystery, don't you think? And, it has stuck with me. But I'm am no longer sorrowful, and it doesn't quite fit anymore.

Funny, in all my years of using Sawrowe, I've never had to be sawrowe69@whatever.com, and that's mainly why I have kept that handle. There has only been one time that someone confused me for someone else. From this AOL IM conversation, I gathered that there is a woman with the initals S.A.W out there who lives in a town called Rowe.

As I said before, Sawrowe doesn't quite fit anymore (though, I have been known to use the name for new RPG characters and other games). So, on chatboards that I've been around for while, it has evolved to 'Rowe. That's pretty hip (like me, right???) and is a change that fits without being a change at all. I was thinking the next evolution of this handle will be The 'Rowe - as in, "The 'Rowe doesn't like to eat broccoli," or, "damn, The 'Rowe came dance!"

Here, I go by ML. Much more personal, as this is a much more personal site, but still keeps my aninimity fairly safe. Those who know me know what it is. Those that don't can try and learn - and I urge you to 'cause it gets lonely still. Eventually, if I get friendly enough to trust you, you'd learn at least my first name. Learning the last name requires an incredible amount of trust.

ML is becoming very comfortable. I've started using it at places that don't know The 'Rowe. Interesting, the parallels between my handles and my life. It's like I'm becoming more and more comfortable with myself.

Feel The Force

Ladies and Gentlemen, Everything Grey is disturbingly proud to present to you a wonder of flash animation. We must warn you the following may SHOCK and will surely disgust. That's why we're telling you about it.

It was discovered a long time ago, and after only one viewing, stomachs ached from laughing too hard, cheeks were stretched beyond their limits. And, yet, at the same time, eyes turned in disgust. But as time passed, it's power was forgotten and subsequently lost (probably after a cease and desist order from Skywalker Ranch, I imagine). But, now I have discovered it again and all its wonderific glory ready to share with you.

Now, without further adieu, I bring you...

Yodahump

Parential discretion is advised.

Polo No-No

I'm noticing a disturbing trend in today's fashion. More and more men are buttoning up their polo or golf shirts all the way up to the collar and I think this looks ridiculous. Guys, this DOES NOT make you look more respectable. It makes you look like a dork. Dork, as in, one step from pocket protector and taped-up glasses. Yes, they have buttons, but you look much cooler with only one, maybe two, actually buttoned. This has been a public service announcement from one straight guy*.

*This straight guy as absolutely no fashion sense.