It's time to shuffle the deck again, right on schedule. Another time to leave town, another time when the lines of acquantance are stretched to the point of evaporation, another round of optimistic pledges of keeping in touch and their subsequent, more realistic disintegration. Been there, done that, here we go again. Just about every five years of my life, I've moved. Granted, this time, it was inevitable, what with the fixed four years of college that requires a scattering to the winds upon graduation. Indeed, what with the proliferation of broadband, mobile phones with long distance, instant messaging, and other bits of swapping information into electrons, we should be able to retain our ties throughout time and distance. Now that we have been provided with the means, do we have the wherewithal to make use of them? I can't speak for anyone else, but I have few hopes for myself. Perhaps it is the time-tempered habit of not bothering with contact, perhaps it is repeat experiences with the dropoffs of science camp and Governor's School, but at this point I'm going to let the words flow more freely from my thoughts, to put a lower rake on the impeller wheels, so to increase the flow but reduce the quality of output. In short, my expectations are low. Just because the means are there, doesn't mean they'll be used; in the case of gun ownership, this not a bad thing, but in the case of contact media, it is more so. In addition, I will only resort to electronic contact when all other means are cut off, and even then it is something I get weary of very quickly. Perhaps it is a condition response, as the last time I endured what I believed was meaningful electronic contact, it short-circuited and blew a fuse. Whatever the cause, I suspect that I will become quite the parsimonious conversationalist, if at all, within the near future. Part of me wants to apologize for this, but I realize that such a gesture would be just that, a gesture. I have no regrets about my state of being and my actions, though I would prefer, had I a real choice in the matter, to minimize the consequences among the people unintentionally affected. In effect, I am sorry for any collateral damage my choices may cause, but I remain without qualms about my actions. Cold and hard this sentiment may be, this is not a warm and soft world we live in; I have become somewhat of an emotional exotherm. Hmm, now there's a metaphor that deserves some rumination.
Bourbon Congratulations! You're 120 proof, with specific scores in beer (80) , wine (100), and liquor (78).
Screw all that namby-pamby chick stuff, you're going straight for thebottle and a shot glass! It'll take more than a few shots of WildTurkey or 99 Bananas before you start seeing pink elephants. You knowhow to handle your alcohol, and yourself at parties.
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
