Tonight has kicked quite a bit of ass.  Although i worked for some insane length of time on a speech-enabled GPS data collection application at the office today,  I came home and cooked, first off.  Mind you, it wasn't some wicked five-course italian extravaganza, but it was still good (frozen ravioli with a nice tomato cream sauce).  And i just love to cook; it's almost like cycling, jogging - and sometimes programming:  I get into the zone and let myself go, submitting entirely to the whims of creation.  Be it creating code, the written word (arguably a bit more renaissance than C# or Perl or something), or even a sleeker, sexier Goat via delectable bits of Spinning, jogging, or mountain biking, it's all a fucking trip.
 
After my adventure in the kitchen, i decided it was high time to write some letters.  Lately i've been feeling this intense push to write, simply to fucking write anything - hence this post tonight.  The SLC trip somehow lit a firecracker and shoved it up my goat-ass; ever since coming back i've had this mad jones to create like a complete tweaker.
 
(Incidentally this is probably related to the fact that Zan and I talked a lot about writing, making me go "wait, I used to do that once, didn't I?" and something about Kris that just makes me think of her as my (or a) Muse, it's ... an unfamiliar yet completely awesome feeling, something totally new and out of the blue ... but that's another discussion for another time.)
 
But have I written my ass off, like a crazed goat with a firecracker shoved in that "special place"?  Alas, no.  The reasons for that I'm sure are multifold, but the first one that comes to mind is the age-old excuse of "I've been working too much."  There's a bit of truth to the argument, but it only holds so much weight, when you strip off all the layers of bullshit and look at it for what it is.
 
I've really had the time - it's simply been allocated to other matters.  I've actually spent a fair amount of time with friends this week, both in person and in other ways, such as phone and email.  I've talked with both Zan and Kris, as well as Dustin, and Brad, and Meri.  And i've had the pleasure of seeing both of the Nics.  Perhaps i've kept in contact more because I broke up with my girlfriend this past Sunday, but her and I generally didn't keep in close contact during the week simply due to our divergent work schedules.  In other words, I reckon she ain't the cause.
 
Whatever the cause may be, it hauls to be in touch with my crew.  They really are the center of who I am - besides who I uniquely am, of course - from people on the social periphery to those on the geographic sidelines, to those close spiritually, to those close physically.  Dude, like down the street physical, not like Barry White physical, come on, mind out of the gutter, reader!
 
Anyways, so i've been spending some time keeping connected.  This rocks.  Alas, it's taken some time away from me that could have been spent writing.  One's got to cut their losses somewhere, though, I suppose.  If you're presented with a tremendous King Arthur-style buffet table full of all sorts of tasties, like tiramisu, Killian's, Guinness, Jagermeister, coconut cream pie, and smoked salmon, what in the world would you pick?  They all rock, and sometimes you just have to pick one.
 
The world is your burrito; it's your choice whether you seize the beans or the cheese.
 
Okay, i have no idea what the fuck i just said.
 
Maybe that's my cue to hit the sack.  Hopefully this made some sense tonight; this post was a bit more inwardly-reflective of others and seemed to, i dunno, come from somewhere else than the others - so hopefully it didn't totally blow.  I'll cross my fingers and hope.  Either way, I wish you, reader, a pleasant Thursday night.  May it be everything you expected, and more.