Stop it! Stop dying!

Sometimes when I am writing my blog I wonder how much fiction I could have written in the time I've spent writing blogs. My guess is a fucking lot of fiction. Yet here I am. At least I am writing something. But I just haven't been good at writing any fiction lately. There might be something to my age that affects that writing style. I feel like I don't have the experiences and the wisdom to write well crafted story. And since I write short stories and even I don't bother to read short stories most of the time, I realize there really isn't too much harm in waiting to build up some life XP before I really throw myself completely into it. Still, I need to get working on some stuff. I keep going back and forth between wanting to go back to school for literature or going back for creative writing. I think both degrees would be useful. But a Masters in Literature sounds cooler. And is probably slightly more useful if I ever want to teach. Of course, that is practical thinking. Generally the more practical I try to be the worse I end up feeling about my life.

When I was at the PSO training in Oregon last month I was talking with this woman who was sort of bashing her father because he was a physicist who couldn't hold down any sort of job and seemed, most of the time, to be a bit off. He would, apparently, just hang around the house and work on equations and fart around. I told her that I had watched a documentary on mathematicians and the high prevalence of insanity that occurs in that field (which is true). That knowledge seemed to soothe her. But it sort of made me mad at her, since I had always wanted to have some half-mad father figure in my life.

Then I look at the practicality of having a father that doesn't really do anything and it occurs to me that that would actually suck. My father is largely defined by his job, and his job provided us everything we needed to grow up in this society. Which makes me realize that no one is really free to just do whatever the fuck they want once they have kids to deal with. It's sort of sad, for me, to realize that because it means that I will likely never be able to have kids. Not that I want any now, but I just float around in this world, doing whatever seems to work out for me at any particular moment. I provide no stability, I provide no role model. The only way that I can really realistically imagine having a family of my own some day is if I am married to someone that makes enough money to support me, her, kids, and a full time nanny. I suppose its possible that I could meet, fall in love, and marry a woman with wealth and, perhaps, huge tracks of land. Honestly I just don't see that really happening though. Maybe if I hung out around prestigious law schools or something. With any luck I could find a woman who is on track to be a partner in some major law firm in the next ten years and has just horrible taste in men.

I came to my blog to post something that I haven't posted because I sort of forgot what it was I was going to post. I thought that if I typed for a while it would come back to me, but it hasn't. Instead I shall just post 5 more tall tales by climate change deniers and leave it at that.