barney

having grown up in a time and culture where children's TV programming mainly consisted of DDR propaganda, extremely disturbing PSA's, and german detective cartoons where every episode contained at least one plotline involving strippers and/or boobs, it's probably not surprising that i never got to know barney.

sad face.

i would probably be a lot more pleasant to deal with, a lot less troubled with negative emotions, and a whole heck of a lot less burdening to others today, had i learned very early on that happiness is the only acceptable state of being, disagreeing is futile and disrespective, and your own needs are always infinitely less important than those of others.

again, sad face. but i did learn a lot about boobs.

either way, a while back i offered to make the boy a pair of socks for his birthday, because he has the soul of a pensioner and thus suffers from cold feet (and increasingly greying hair). i even went so far as to let him pick colours.

of all the colours in all the world, he picked barney's.

to be fair, i rejected his inital choice of the dr. seuss-esque combination of red and white, just because it was in my power to do so.

oh, what a girl wouldn't do for his love muffin.

zombies

i've been busy. lots of things happening around here. many of them good, some not so good.

things changing across the board.

despite all the insane and outrageous and preposterously rewarding life-changing choices i've made in the recent years, i'm really not very good with change at all.

change is something unknown and uncontrollable. it scares the living fuck out of me. change may open doors, but you know who else uses doors?

ZOMBIES.

i'm taking very slow and apprehensive steps towards a direction where there's nothing but intuition. i don't know what's going to happen. there's no precedent in my life for any of the things i'm doing now.

is the road going to be awesome and inspiring, or am i going to end up flatlining on the side of a highway somewhere? how do i know what to take with me, and what to dump along the way? how do i gauge what happiness is, or what it could be?

is this what being a grown-up is?

there's a sense of changing weather in my fat belly and there's just no way of knowing how good or bad it's going to be.

so i'm just kind of sitting here, knitting something, and breathing, and going, "okay, yeah, let's see how fast them zombies are. "