Plug in for Romance

Hello out there, all you fakers and fronters,
have I got something for you.
It's love, it's lust,
it will singe off the dust,
of your pathetic single life.
It's a love light for your love life,
a miraculous, melty tool.
It's an electric fireplace.
Installation is easy; just plug it in.
Then hold tight
as you say goodnight,
with your lover
tucked under the covers.
But seriously, I just bought an electric fireplace that I am hoping will save me a few hundred dollars this fall and winter. I just plugged it in this afternoon and am going home soon to check it out. It's not just for me, if you know what I mean, it's for pickles, and for you. For comfort, for pleasure, for non-sock feet on icy floors during cold weather.
It might even be eco-friendly? I'm hoping it's eco-nomically-friendly.
Keep it toasty.

nebula, oh nebula

I took out my contacts because they were drying out in my eyes. I was beginning to have trouble seeing at the end of the night. Maybe my sight was distorted by the cool, dry air of that fall night, or from a smokey sports bar. I could have been afflicted by it all.
Maybe 2 AM is when it was that got around to taking them out. The house was quiet and I could almost hear my blood pulse through my body in unison with the petite steps padding through the carpeted hallway.
I turned the corner, as did the nebula. I was face to face with the birth of a star. The stellar, galactic cloud that eventually collapses into a star. Her eyes were striking and timeless. I was frozen and afire in the vacuum of space.
Maybe my contacts had only shielded me from her eyes so far, but in that light, those eyes, went on forever.
I just sat on the sink, looking.
Eventually I mumbled, "do you need to use this?"
And those nebulous eyes almost whispered, smiling, "umm...yes."
Quite possibly I had mistaken what I saw, or maybe eventually everyone comes face to face with an astral body and it's no big deal. Regardless, I can still see them. And the picture above doesn't even do them justice.

The Death Sleep

"Sleep, my child" is what I wish someone could say and I would immediately fall asleep. Unfortunately, it is not that easy. Do you ever have those nights when you are so tired that you can't sleep? I had one last night. I fell asleep on the couch watching a documentary about Hinduism and woke up two hours later. I remembered that I still had to water my plants, so I did at 12:30 last night. After making coffee for in the morning I was tired, but not sleepy.
Dammit.
I got online and played for awhile, then tried to commit to sleep.
Unsuccessful.
I laid in bed and let all the things worry me that would take place tomorrow. Then I began to worry about my life, my soul, my financial situation, and everything else. I do not recall when I finally drifted off.
The point?
The point is I might have drifted off long enough for good sleep, but not the "death sleep."
The death sleep is the crucial four hours of deep REM sleep, that one must have every night. Sleep researchers have deemed this sleep necessary for a longer life span and general health. The more days you experience the deep sleep, the more days you will live. So, I call it the death sleep.
I'm hoping for more death sleep tonight.
Does it help that I daydream all day? I certainly wish it did.

Electric Blue

I have spent over a month without writing a blog.
What does that say about me?
What does that say about you?
Yes, you. You, for not saying, "What the eff, Casey? Why haven't you posted lately?"
Kidding.
It's entirely my fault.
Who reads my posts anyways?
Today, though, I write.
I stayed late in the office and was torn away from my desk by a fire drill. The time was about 5:15 P.M. central. The heat was still as intense as any summer day (the first day of fall was yesterday). The leaves were blowing across the parking lot making crispy noises from being completely dry. I was standing in a way to block the setting sun from blinding a coworker. I looked at her in her sunglasses and even though I was blocking the sun and she was wearing shade she was squinting.
I knew it was electric blue time.
Electric blue is that shade of blue I only notice during fall. I remember remarking to her that it's the only time of the year when the sky will look like this. I said something about Autumn sunsets, but I don't think she agreed.
I whirled upwards and stared into the clearest of electric blue. The color also reflects the time of year when that chill just starts to whisper in the early morning.
I can definitely see why people love Autumn so much.
Autumn is for lovers.
When the trees are falling asleep, the people are wide awake.

High-fiving instead of Supersizing me

Yes!
I am so over it!
Over what, you ask?
Effing McDonald's, man.
I was addicted to the deadly duo of a double cheeseburger and medium fries for three days a week for a period of two months. Each night, before the binging, I would feel actual symptoms of withdrawal. Just knowing that I was about to "fix" made me a wreck. Not to mention after I ate I just wanted to lie down and chill. That whole "fixing" and then just hanging really made me feel like I was shooting or hitting the pipe.
I'm no Morgan Spurlock, but I do agree with just about everything he said in Supersize Me, that pertains to the fast food industry. And I can certainly tell how the sugar, sodium, and trans fat stick to your body. I was steadily putting on weight and steadily disgusting myself.
I have not had the vile food in two weeks and am finally feeling like I have left it behind me. My energy is back up and my digestive track is regular again. Thank God. I don't know how much longer my friends, co-workers, and I could have stood my sewage gas.
I think a sequel to Supersize Me needs to be done. I think Morgan should should put himself on a diet of health foods that claim to be healthy. Like "made with whole grain" breads, "low fat" foods, and any other phony marketing scheme.
Yep, I'm filling lighter and my clothes aren't any tighter.
I must admit, the shakes were almost enough to make me cave last week. Now that I'm free from fast food what's next? Sex? Ha! it's been long enough already.

Digging Daddy Time

Yes!
I am a father.
Okay, not in the sense that I impregnated a woman or anything.
But, as of yesterday, I am the proud father of a short-haired, brown guinea pig named Pickles.
I don't think it has adjusted to me, yet. The manual says it could take awhile, and that the first day I should just leave it alone.
Last night before I went to bed I tried to give it a good night carrot. Pickles started racing around its cage like a brown streak of lightning. I perceived it as discomfort. I'm going to give it plenty of time to acclimate before I try to pick it up and cuddle it.
Don't worry. I'm not going to freak out and start buying clothes for it or anything. But I will take multiple pictures with it. Maybe even Wal-mart studio pictures.
Yep, expect Christmas cards with yours truly and Pickles.
I just needed something to care for. Something furry to play with. I just needed some company. And plus, if things go well with Pickles, I might actually be able to handle a dog, and then another human relationship. But for now I'm going to start small.
p.s.
The picture is not Pickles. A picture will surface soon. This is just one I found on-line, but they're guinea pigs, people, this one looks similar.

Birthday Wish

Yesterday was my birthday. I am now 27.
Great. One year older and one more reason to worry about my health.
In three years I can start to look for wrinkles. In three years I can start worrying about my hair falling out a little more than I do now. In three years I can start feeling like the creepy 30 year old who's not married and doesn't have kids and is dating on-line.
Now that I think about it I'm feeling a little like Billy Crystal in City Slickers. That scene when he's in his son's class room talking about death and being married to someone you don't recognize.
Don't get me wrong, I don't think Billy Crystal is funny. But that one scene in the movie, that was me yesterday.
This is what I want out of a birthday...instead of candles and cake and crap, I want to go back to one year of my life for one day and make a difference in my life. Or at least be able to go back to relive a day from my past. That would be the perfect birthday present. Maybe a day from high school or middle school. Someday when I could change something then that would effect me now. Kind of like a Back to the Future thing, only without Biff, he's an asshole.
But, honestly I spent last night at my parents' house. They cooked and my family bought me a cake and I actually blew out candles. I haven't done that in forever. All in all, it was nice. I guess I'm not so suicidal today.