Who do I still think I am??

This one's about going back to where you came from.

30DBC PROMPT: "Do you believe immortality exists? What does it mean to be immortal? Does reincarnation exist?"

What's good, y'all? As usual, the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  asks you the tough questions, and I'm here like almost always to volunteer my insight and fashionably real wisdom. And I also have an interesting story to go along with that today!

But before I get into that, I gotta tell you...if there ever were to be a "Top 5" kind of list created for topics I've considered the least or knew the smallest amount of information on, reincarnation would not only probably be on it, but someone would turn that list into an internet meme, and a jerk like me would end up setting cheesy instrumentation to it and sharing it on Youtube, complete with a picture of me making a dumb face. However, since you're not here for that kind of entertainment today, I will instead pass on a bit of my own personal writing history that still never ceases to somehow amaze me (and actually bears a slight kinship with what we're supposed to be using the prompt for). Allow me...

About twelve years or so, out of the laziness one might acquire upon first signing up and taking advantage of WDC's features, I sloppily eschewed the process of writing stuff in notebooks and went directly into typing things to save in my WDC portfolio (with the thinking being that I was cutting out the middleman by typing instead of writing things down first, and believing that my WDC port would forever remain unscathed in the still-growing yet young expanses of all that was good and well with computer trickery technology). As we've all come to learn many times and many ways, items as we originally intended for them to be viewed on WDC don't always meet our expectations or considerations.

What do I mean? I mean...one day, I sat in front of a computer typing random words and phrases in WDC's text-entry box within a box within a box that I eventually titled "Reincarnation Theory" . What it means, I haven't the slightest idea. I know one little part of it involves a redheaded woman I haven't seen in many years, and another part of it deals with the overcorporatization of everything in society. It certainly, at least on the surface, isn't a theory and has little to do with anything reincarnating. It's been in my port in a few various ways, due mainly to portfolio maintenance and occasionally needing the space for other items.

What really surprised me the most about "Reincarnation Theory"  wasn't that it took so little time to write (considering how long it is), or how it kinda tied in different concepts of colliding and/or abstract realities, or the fact that it quickly became one of the most read and reviewed items I'd shared up to that point on WDC. Nope...for someone whose only experience with the word "genre" came to equating it with just the stuff I cared to write about, and not things that actually described events, happenings and goings-on, I had been asked if it could be featured in an official WDC newsletter.

The Fantasy newsletter.

Me, the soft-shoed, romance-writing, lovelorn, poetic, pie-eyed trinkler of words substituted as tears for currency in a pocketbook of the English language...not knowing a damn thing about science or fiction, was going to be featured in a newsletter that would go out to lots WDC members, most of whom never would have read me in a million years because I wrote mostly mushy, sappy love stuff, and the likes of which probably wouldn't involve me in their social circles because we'd have nothing in common, now had an audience beyond the women who were fawning over how sweet I could be and were wondering why they couldn't find men (or women) that felt as emotionally attached to my words as I was to the situations that predated them.

All of the sudden, I was getting asked about this piece I'd written that was so unlike anything else I'd done at the time, and my main physical response (had you been able to see it) would've simply been a shrug because I didn't know anything about it other than yup, I wrote that. Even on this day, having known it's sat in my collection of writings for twelve years or so, I still couldn't give you any explanation about it or why people responded to it they way they did (or why I've added and removed it from my port as often as I have).

And what does all of this have to do with the prompt? I have no idea, other than sure, reincarnation exists on some level. Maybe we don't come back to this planet in the same shape we left it, be that a good thing or otherwise, but we become something or another someone. I don't buy into the whole "heaven and hell and your soul does this" idea. Maybe I come back when I die as a snail or a rock or a word someone else puts on a page in a book that the author didn't understand but is beloved or revered for it anyway. That is what ultimately to me measures one's immortality...the legacy of the body of work person leaves behind (in his life as a whole and not just in his job, his hobbies or pursuits) and how it affects those who come after him. A man's name can live forever as an example of the life that person lived being memorable enough after his passing. That's immortality. That's the spirit reincarnating itself over and over.

BCF PROMPT: "Tell us about the farthest you’ve ever traveled from home."

I'm staring at this prompt, thinking about how I'm gonna manage to tell one simple story over and over so that it sounds fresh to me every darn time I tell it, when it hits me...I don't know if I can do it. Even if you've never heard me say it, I'll know I've said it, and to me that's one person too many when you're writing a blog entry that likes to be humorous at times. Just knowing I'll be repeating myself again isn't the greatest consolation, but I guess when you've seen as many blog prompts as I have, you're bound to trip on the same logs from time to time.

So for those who haven't heard me say it before, the farthest I've travelled from Western NY would be to the Bahamas. I don't have a map and don't feel like looking up how far it is from Buffalo to Nassau, but I can tell you that we flew to Florida and took a cruise ship from there. For my money that's the best way to travel...and there's so much to do on the ship itself that you don't even need to get off at the islands if you don't want to. All these big ships are different, so I can only speak from my own experience, but man, the one we were on was huge...swimming pool, large dining facilities, bars, lounges, shops, dance floors, casinos, a rock climbing wall, a gym...these things are like floating cities.

Granted, that was many years ago, and cruise ships have been getting lots of bad press lately, but you'd never hear me not recommending that to be the best way to vacation. Flying, on the other hand, is something I'd prefer to never have to do again if I can absolutely avoid it. I don't know what it is about planes, but something about moving in the air that high up and at that speed gives me a case of please-no-thank-you's like you wouldn't believe. It's extremely uncomfortable for me in a physical sense, which then makes the mental part of me even more annoying to handle. And that's not a picture I care to describe for anyone.

That makes vacationing less than perfect for me. I understand that my living so far inland, the best option to get on a cruise is by taking a plane to it. It's not like these big-ass boats are gonna just come to you, but that'd be nice. I may really have to rethink this not-living-by-water thing...or just not vacation period. Too much stress and hassle between airports, idiots, rules, and restrictions. In order to really feel like you've been on a vacation, you probably hafta feel like you need a vacation just to recover from where you got back from. Funny how that part works and always bites you in the ass. That one little space between coming back from an awesome trip and realizing you have to go back to work and life and all that...no one ever plans a getaway and says they can't wait for that day. And if you strung a week's worth of those days together, you'd probably call that one of the worst times of your life if it weren't encrusted in a bacon and vacation flavored coating once or twice a year on your calendar. Maybe I'm wrong, or maybe I'm missing all the fun in that, but just drop me off on a beach for seven days, keep my glass full, and return me back home to my perch when I'm good and sunburned and have to pretend about caring about stuff again.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Yeah, this about sums it up for me.

THE DAILY BOX SCORE:

Ok, so I'm in a little better mood today than I was yesterday, but that doesn't excuse anyone or offer them a pass at certain things in life. You've heard me say so many times that some situations just require a different pattern of behavior than what seems to be tolerated, and me having earbuds in my ears (whether I'm listening to anything or not) should be a pretty solid sign that I'm not into conversation with random strangers, but maybe I need to get that written on a t-shirt or put it on a bumper sticker and wear it...especially if the offending bit of speakage happens to be a stupid question (and it's not really important so I'm not gonna waste the time typing it).

64: Ounces...ounces!! Someone has randomly placed a large bottle filled, one would presume, with water (since it looks very clear) in the middle of the floor in the library. Nobody's picked it up or even acknowledged it (since I don't work here, I'm under no obligation to handle what could be just about anything goin' on in that bottle)...and I've counted at least eight people who work in this building, the oldest of which has twice made a point in the last half-hour of pushing or moving the chair across from me even though I haven't bothered to put my feet on it for a change (and the chair still isn't pushed in enough to a level where one would describe it as "being pushed in"). This is the same library where a librarian once grabbed my lidded cup of coffee, wiped her hand underneath it, and warned me of the "no food and drink" policy 'round here...a policy that states, among other indiscretions, food will "not be tolerated" and "crumbs and liquid drops attract insects, which eat paper". I wish I could make that last line up, folks, but no...sometimes this aggravation has to write itself (although I'm getting better at repeating it to you people).

And that's where I'm gonna draw the line today. It's super nice and hot outside (and the doors to this building are wide open, also attracting rather large insects flying around that I'm sure also eat paper), and I've some reading to catch up on before I go off wasting more time today. Peace, pack your bags, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!