Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Lara's Vampire Vineyard
Welcome to my life. Day 5825. Hello my Yawning Yardbirds. Well it's finally finished. Lara's Vampire Vineyard on Farmville. I know. Get a life. But at least now I'm done with it. You have to have an end in sight.
I was reading this Eastern philosophy book the other day and the Swami or whatever he was said something like - "Attachment is the selfish focus on the outcome. Detachment is the selfless focus on the process." I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. It's one of those awful brainfucks. I personally feel that the outcome is pretty friggin important. Why is that selfish? But I get what he's saying. Love the effort, not the result. Well, this blog has been kind of an exercise in loving the process. Although maybe one day people will see it as an outcome. I mean, it is kind of a work of art, as presumptuous as that sounds. That's what we're doing. We bloggers! We're leaving a little piece of ourselves for posterity.
One day maybe historians or archeologists or whatever might read them and try to figure out what sort of freaky effed up society we were living in. I like to think of these things from time to time. It is good to have a historical outlook on life. It helps to put things in perspective. Like how important really is Billy Mathews in the bigger scheme of things. Ten thousand years from now he will be a tiny speck on a tiny speck of a page of history that I gave him by writing about him. If he's lucky.
Anyway, Oprah just announced she's retiring after next year. Another vicious blow to Mom's daily routine. It's amazing how that woman has made herself such an essential part of a woman's day. I'm every woman. Yeah, give me a break. Every woman is worrying about how to feed her friggin kids not what dress to wear to the Oscars. She's worth like a billion bucks, that Oprah! Every woman indeed. Maybe the hypocrisy finally caught up to her.
I think Mom needs to take up a new hobby. I wish she'd find herself some Bulgarian friends. She's so inside herself all the time. Sometimes I feel like I don't know who she really is. Like I've never seen her outside of her 'Mom' persona. I feel like there must be more to her.
Then again, maybe this identity is the only one she knows anymore. It's sad what happens to women. They become whatever society wants them to become. Just look at my stupid sister, Helen. Oh, did I mention Helen has declared herself a Twatlight Fan?! Team Jacob! Finally my two greatest nemesis unite. In general New Moon seems to be getting much better reviews than the original. Naturally I'm currently boycotting any movie theater screening it. Instead I have been spending most of my free time trying to get the Facebook people to create a 'dislike' button.
Our Birthdays are coming up. Mine and Helen's. December the 13th. Not my favorite event of the year. I'm sure she'll demand another party at home where I'll have to sit in the corner again. She's ruined pretty much every birthday I've ever had. She gets like a zillion cards from like pen-pals in India and whatever. I'll be lucky if I get two. This year I want a calf's heart for my Birthday. So I can perform this anal acne curse from You Do Voodoo by Herbert Hoviak. If you have a newborn calf, it's heart has to be removed precisely at midnight. Send it to me preferably dry-frozen. Here's Helen's House on my farm:
Anyway, sad to say goodbye to Farmville. I leave you now with Anne Rice's House in Lara's Vampire Vineyard: