The sweet, salty mix of buttered popcorn slips along our lips and into our mouth. A soft kernel hits against our tongue, setting off some senses. Yet we are almost unaware of it. Our hands move mechanically back into the bucket, grabbing another handful. We don't have to look to know where the bucket is, which is for the best since we can not take our eyes off of the screen.

Larger than life images are the only thing that can bring us back from the trance. We don't want to live for ourselves, so we imitate those lives we see on the screen. We want to be those imaginary people. We want their lives. We want their trials, we want their money, and we want their happy endings. So why go chasing our own when so many can be seen in books, movies, sitcoms, soap operas?

Luckily for me, life happens whether I want it to or not. Today, I got yet another blue ball to add to my collection. This one comes with a pilates tape, which means hours of cat entertainment. Anything that involves me chasing a blue ball across the floor or having my lovely hair within reach is fun for the cats. As I was rolling around, learning to breath, every cat took a chance and attacked their favorite hobbit parts. This means Rodney wanted petted, Ziggy wanted toe jam, and Lil' Guy needed his hair fix. You can mock the ball, but I warn you it will mock you back, probably while you are laughing at yourself.

The day also held the joy of discovery. I went on an archaeological expedition of my desk. This is what I do when the project I want to be working on is denied me. I found the remnants of another project that had been denied me months ago. it was right where I left it, but covered by more fiche and randomly colorful papers. So I was able to clear off a tiny portion of my desk. I promptly covered it back up with parts of my currently denied beau. Sad, eh? Naw, that's just my life.

I also spruced up my cubicle with some children's book cover magnets. They're so adorable. I am particularly fond of The Happy Hedgehog. My most beloved Bobs would understand. One of my co-workers declared that the picture on the front was too suggestive and should be banned. Is it my fault if the little guy is draped seductively on his back as he lets the sun warm his fur? Don't worry, I warned him to wear sunblock for his own protection, and that of those reading his blog late in the day.

What else did I accomplish? I wiggled my nose. I made some fiche feel loved. I stared at some names. I was authoritative. I spread some office joy. I even made a few more notes for my annual report which I will be rushing to complete at the end of this month. It's my one deadline writing project since no one was interested in my rant of the week concept, and I haven't broken into freelance writing recently. Unless I did while I was sleeping. People tend to do all sorts of whacky things while they are sleeping. And that, my children, is what I learned from the movies.

A child falls like a little gift from heaven into a family to give it strength and another outlet for a tremendous love. I may be a bit more poetic today as I was officially stirred from my bed at a little past six this morning. At first, I was confused, thinking that the telemarketers had reached a new low, but when I heard the surprisingly calm and familiar voice on the other end of the line, I knew today would be a good day. I rushed (as fast as a half-asleep hobbit can rush) over to my friend's house to watch her three darling boys while her husband rushed her to the hospital. A couple of hours later, Seneca Elise made her appearance in the world. She weighed in at 8 pounds and 7 ounces (or somewhere in there) and was 20 inches long). Welcome, welcome to one crazy, mixed up world.

So I got my car inspected this weekend. It reminded me of the joy that is January when we give ourselves our yearly inspections. What if we really got inspected each year? Would we stand up to the scrutiny? Would we have reached our goals? Would we have let something good slip away while trying to force something else? For instance, when bread is about to come out of the oven, one would not stand watching the pot of water they just put on the burner, waiting for it to boil before doing anything else.

Some days, it is tiring to be constantly bombarded by people angling for compliments. These are the people who set themselves up for a compliment of some sort over and over. The methods for doing so are varied, ranging from outright self-praise to self-deprecation. After a while, reminding them that they do have good qualities gets old, especially when they act like it is your obligation or get angry because you don't comply with their wishes NOW NOW NOW! However, if you feel compelled to tell me that I am fabulous, I won't deny you that right.

Mondays can be so melodramatic for me. I find that they remind me of how much I have on hold in my world. This malaise is probably a result of wading through more horrible GPO records to try and clean up my problem box. I fear if I don't make it go away, it will reproduce and then I will have problem boxes (which I will promptly bury under garbage). I have an aspiration for garbage domination. Sometime one has to have goals, as far-fetched as they are.

Nothing can follow a day of problem-solving like a hobbit watching her television. My television really needs to learn to watch itself for me. Then I would have more time to root around in the garbage that lives in my house. I think I have hit on a theme. At least it isn't fire. Could you imagine me setting the world on fire, literally instead of figuratively.

Judge not by the eye but by the heart. ~Native American Proverb

He that would live in peace and at ease, must not speak all he knows nor judge all he sees. ~Benjamin Franklin

Welcome me to morning with her golden bows
All of her fresh promises, unbroken vows
Dance with me until our feet grow sore
And then because you love me, dance once more
To the song made by two hearts beating
Softly whispering, reaffirming, sweetly repeating
All the promises of love that we made
Welcome me to morning, let our days not fade

So a friend and I were having a fabulous discussion and I felt I should create a quiz based on the following question:

What aisle are you in if the woman whose leg you are groping attacks you with...

1. A frozen fillet of salmon?
2. A rolling pin?
3. A tub of ricotta?
4. A jar of Nutella?
5. A leg of lamb?
6. A Bismarck?
7. Anise sponges?
8. A granola bar?
9. A ten pound jar of Miracle Whip?
10. A can of Progresso?
11. A can of Raid?
12. A plastic fork?
13. A Boost?
14. The Teddy Graham troops?
15. Nair?
16. A baguette?
17. Kotex?
18. Ocean Spray?
19. Catalyst?
20. Barbasol?

Aside from that bit of entertainment, most of the day was spent doing what you envy most. Thousands of microfiche went sliding through my little hobbit hands today. Tomorrow, thousands more will meet the same fate. Some day, perhaps, I will finish the project that I am working on, but I doubt it. I get other fun and exciting distractions from time to time. I even heard rumors that I might get to say naughty things to books tomorrow. I see that you are turning green. Ah, if you were a muppet, I would find you irresistible.

Anyway, I have a house that needs some attention and piles of hobbit treasures to hide. You never know when a dragon is going to sneak in and try to set your treasures on fire. Have a good one.

Sunday is not the day to play games. Not for me anyway. I tend to have far too much going on for that, but we all know I am not perfect and sometimes I let my fabulous brain get lost in a simple childish game. I am referring to video games here not the games that people play.

Anyone who has ever played one of those long tedious games though knows that a certain point exists where you stop and ask yourself if all of this worth it. Life can have the same problem. I believe I have hit that point again. Fighting people who want to be miserable or refuse to see what is right before their eyes loses its charm after a while. Mopping up their tears when they choose to be offended just makes me want to cast them off. It's worse when I don't have the time to give them every second that they want. People grow apart. Things change. I tire of being the constant. I tire of being unappareciated but expected to be there waiting. I guess I just have to decide how bad I want that remort, right?

Do not rely completely on any other human being, however dear. We meet all life's greatest tests alone. ~Agnes Macphail

Somewhere in the world, we got this mixed up impression that the whole world owes us something. We don't keep our promises to other people, but we have the right to be angry when they won't make us promises that they don't think they can keep. Being a healer of hearts in a heartbroken world leads to nothing but the one heart breaking that we can't fix. Ever get tired of hearing people sob about losses that are only temporal? Ever get tired of trying to explain to them that it really will be okay while they are trying to bring you down their level? How often do people try to lift us up? I only have a couple of friends who try to boost me (even when they are having just as bad of a day). These are not the friends who try to break me down to build themselves up or tell me I imagined something that is reaffirmed again and again.

These are friends like my Sweet Shelby who sends me cards from time to time just to remind me she cares. These are friends like Lesha who invite me to hang out with them and their family because they don't want me to be alone for the holidays. These are friends who come an hour and a half just to watch a movie with me. These are wives like my premier wife who has been extremely depressed and still been selfless enough to just let me vent. I can only hope to learn from their example without letting myself feel enslaved to insatiable desires of some friends who can't see outside themselves no matter how vehemently they claim that they can.

I think I need to not dream. It harrows up the heartaches that keep bringing me back in the spiral to this point where I started. What point is that? The point where the world stopped having any realistic vision of who I am? Crazy, eh? Odds are you don't see the real me either. She is a quiet little thing who keeps her opinions to herself and already found what she was looking for. What was that? Now that would be telling and she doesn't tell secrets, just like she wouldn't repeat someone else's jokes out of context.

Onward to my day in this very real, very harsh, very physical world. What did I do for fun? That is easy. I woke up early and went to work. I played with the fiche for a while and then got all mathematical. I am never short of fun and enjoyment as long as I have those piles of paper and fiche on my desk.

I then journeyed to my home where I lost a battle for some potato chips. I can take Lil' Guy, but my roomie, well, he is a force to be reckoned with where chips are involved. I watched a little television to feel at one with the premier wife. It's comforting to know we can both watch the same shows when we're far apart.

Then to add to the days excitement, I took a two mile trip in which five people almost rammed me. I would like to claim it is because I am the world's worst driver, but most of them were on cell phones and paying no attention to the fact that the road has two lanes, and there are certain rules of right of way. Luckily, we managed to not intersect our lives too forcibly and I made it to the church on time.

A small troop of us headed out into the woods for some outdoors training. We were allegedly going rock climbing. I was there for the heckling. I did climb a rock though. I also got a little more excitement than the boys. I was spotting a friend which meant I needed to hold her against the wall. Someone took pictures, so I am sure I will see more pictures of me that just look wrong. Now it is time for the sleep. Ah, blessed sleep.

I forgot to mention one of my fabulous breakthroughs of last evening. I decided I need to become a little more like I used to be. How so? I need to relive the childish mantra of "God made dirt; dirt don't hurt." I was discussing with a friend the fact that as a child if something fell in dirt, I would still be likely to pop it in my mouth. Like all wise young children, I drew the line at eating things that fell in poo (or things that were probably full of poo like grasshoppers). Not that there is anything wrong with those of you who ate bugs to gain the acclamation of your fellow young hoodlums, it just wasn't for me.

I thought of you more than once this week,
More than you deserve
I tried to help you find what you seek,
More than you deserve
I wept for fear of hurting you,
More than you deserve
You never had a friend so true,
More than you deserve
Yet with all I give, it's not enough,
More than you deserve
But it some how is my fault life is so tough,
More than you deserve
So if I turn my back don't say good-bye,
More than you deserve
Don't worry yourself that I may cry,
More than you deserve

The hopeless romantics should not be allowed to watch shows or movies about love. It just reminds us how far from our hearts love is in the reality. How many of us can say we have truly loved? We say we love someone and can't live without them, but that is not a reflection of true love. That is a selfish desire. If you love, truly love, you give your love freedom to come to you as they will. You don't offer ultimatums. You don't doubt the sincerity of love they have shown again and again. You don't lie to them. You don't try to manipulate them. You don't tell them again and again that they are worthless and then wonder why they don't want to listen to your justifications.

It's been a long week. I'd be appalled if it weren't for the fact that the week should be drawing to a close. I played a soothing game of microfiche solitaire this afternoon. It did help to release some of my hidden affection for the GPO. They epitomize logic and reason. Speaking of logic and reason, They are calling me away to a realm where hobbits read away the hours and find what is missing in the equation x=?c?! Sweet dreams.

So many of the rules of life get swept under the rug. They don't matter because some bearded sage spouted them into the air so long ago that they must no longer be of importance. Thus we allow ourselves to believe they were never written at all or we need to rewrite them. Seen the news lately? It just shows us how far we have sunk from our potential. Fool! Zealot! Hippie! Freak! Yes, I have heard such things before. Yet I am not the one trying to justify a world in which we destroy each other for personal gain. If you get everything you ever wanted and wind up alone, do you think you really accomplished anything in this life?

I am not sure how much I have accomplished thus far. I have my handwriting and fingerprints all over envelopes and fiche and books throughout the library. I have a small following of worshipers (all four-legged). I also have a million half-finished or half-started projects. Hmm. I should finish some of those. It has been a long Thursday. I got paid. Yay! Then I sent all that money to the four corners of the earth. Wahoo! I still feel as in debt as ever, but at least I know I am doing the best I can at this point. More for later.

"Integrity is the core of our character. Without integrity we have a weak foundation upon which to build other Christlike characteristics." ~L. Lionel Kendrick (Ensign, November 1988, p. 23.)

"The gospel is so very simple when we understand it properly. It is always right, it is always good, it is always uplifting." ~L. Tom Perry

I always find myself back here at that one crucial point, the fork in the road. It is a large fork. It is a simple fork aside from being large enough to bisect a road. It is made of stainless steel. It has not been polished. That is only one of the many tasks on my list of things to do. Wherever I go, I accumulate these projects that I want or need to finish. Luckily, one of the tasks I assign myself is to entertain those who still wander in here from time to time and flip these virtual pages.

I had another traumatic public bathroom experience this morning. I seem to have those a lot. I am just fortunate I guess. I wandered into the bathroom and claimed a throne. As I was sitting there, I heard a strange whirring noise from the stall next to mine. I was suddenly quite disturbed. Of course, it was a cell phone set on vibrate and I was now to be blessed with the joy of being background music to someone's phone call. Not the first time my services were requested for such a thing today, actually. One of my random online friends wanted me to do a peppy quick plug for their online station (obviously, they have never heard my fabulous voice), but as I lack a microphone, I could not oblige. Maybe next time.

We love those who know the worst of us and don't turn their faces away. ~Walker Percy

Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless. ~Mother Teresa

So I have spent a little time with the family photos lately. I am not sure which is creepier, the fact that my baby pictures make me certain I was meant to marry Thor or the fact that, during a certain period of our lives or most of it, my brother and I are only distinguishable by eye color. It could just be the fact that all babies look alike, but it is still freaky. I also find that I become less and less photogenic as time goes on. I wonder if there is a solution to that. If I suddenly feel compelled to care, I'll look into it.

Despite the fact that rain does nothing if not promise to ruin plans including outdoor pools, I can't help but appreciate it. Luckily, it held off while people flailed around in the water trying to tag each other and catch the famous Marco. It may be a selfish desire to have some of the bird poo washed off of the hobbitmobile or a deep desire to smell wet sidewalks, but I think it is more relief from the heat we've been experiencing. I love warmth as much as the next person, but sometimes it is just too much.

Anyway, the morning was spent correcting records. I am always correcting something or someone (usually myself). It makes me feel so...correct. I can only take so much of that power before I have to move on to something entirely different like microfiche. So I spent the afternoon with the fiche. One can only imagine how much excitement that added to a mediocre Monday. It should be pointed out that my hero Garfield got a double whammy today. He turned twenty-eight and experienced yet another Monday. Poor guy. Then some meanies squashed his cake. Is that any way to treat a star who has a new movie out? I don't think so.

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur full of fiche, fun, random lightning and my brain wandering. I really shouldn't let my brain go out for walks by itself, but it can be so convincing when it wants to be. Just let it have a chat with you sometime. You'll see what I mean.

Why only western Virginia? Read it again. Yes, that is right. One of the fifty states is West Virginia and we are celebrating it today. Cake and posters. Hobbits and shoes. Something to love. Something to hate. Everything you ever wanted wrapped up in one twisty, turny, mountainous state. I scored poster 42 of 143. I had to trade for it, but it is mine, all mine and it has the number 42 written on it with a Sharpie. If they use a Sharpie, you know it has to be good.

The afternoon was highlighted with over an hour of listening to a Scottish accent. You know how hobbits have such a weakness for interesting accents. They also have a weakness for sweet little cookies. Or do they become sweet little cookies? I made sweet little cookies for tonight's Mormon moments. I believe they were a hit since none were left when I wandered away. Speaking of wandering, it is time to wander off with the Sandman. He's so irresistible...

"Restrain your tongues in criticism of others. It is so easy to find fault. It is so much nobler to speak constructively" ~Gordon B. Hinckley (Ensign, November 1981, p. 98.)

Today is the first day of summer and the longest of the year. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. That or I accidentally ate moldy cheese, but I am pretty sure I would have noticed that. I am sure some of the fuzziness also stemmed from seeing my beautiful wife today. We conquered a crossword puzzle together. Isn't that a wonderful way to spend quality time together?

Quality and time are two things I can not help but appreciate. My happiness comes in flashes so I have to get the quality in. Nothing really changes, does it? I wake up each morning. I go to work. I hear little whispers and ignore them because I know the pain. I even try to ignore the voices that reach unnecessary decibels cutting into my ongoing headache. The scientific experiment that is a bonus of my job is going to find one angry hobbit, one box of shiny tools, and a ventilation system locked in a death grip. I find it more and more annoying to feel basically fine and then walk into my office, sit down and slowly feel like little crickets are dancing a jig in my head. Oh well, they do reimburse me so well for that. Yeah, drinks are on me. *rolls eyes at fools and their assumptions*

Anyway, so many things bubble and collide in my head that my readers don't want to know about. What they really want to know is what they already believe. I can't seem to convince any of them that they don't know me. Just like I can't shake people and make them see the things that break my heart and turn my stomach all at once. I'm tired. I am very tired. I want more goodness. I want more to celebrate and less to dread. I want more to love and less to feel tainted by. I have every intention of getting it, too, even if I have to shake loose the demons who would bind me to their side in case they need someone to hold them close and tell them it is okay when they didn't listen. Keep walking. The truth is not so clear in the pages I write, but it is out there waiting for you...

In a world where materialism, cynicism, and hopelessness exists, we share the message of great hope--the gospel of Jesus Christ. ~David B. Haight (Ensign, November 1983, p. 41.)

When one is anticipating a party, the day can drag on forever. That could explain why the day seemed to take so long. It wasn't because of the joy of the throwing away magical barcodes started out the day. It may have been the mystical power of finding more fiche on my desk that wanted to find their way back to the most spacious drawers in the whole world.

The party was worth waiting for, of course. We had cake. We had ice cream. We had games. How can you appreciate something you didn't know or feel or earn? How can you appreciate anything that you don't take the time to see? Oh well...

Is it possible that at a certain age, you lose the ability to dream? Some mornings I wake up convinced that I dreamed the same dream again. Today was one of those mornings. If yesterday had not yielded a dream bizarrely different from the norm, I would be confused. Of course, I think I now understand the previous dream. I just hope the story it alludes to is not true. Last night's dream still leaves me wondering what great wrong I did to be trapped forever with certain thoughts with unanswered questions and unwanted reminders. What reminders? That the world can't see me for one. I find it amazing but I find it true.

Luckily for my cat, his dreams are easy to understand. Right now, he is curled up and dreaming about that can of tuna I had for lunch. Of course, in his dreams, I give him the whole can of tuna. In reality, I only give him a little bit to give him happy tuna breath and distract him while I run away to eat my tuna in peace. Three cats versus one human can get brutal if the human isn't smart enough to run when tuna is involved.

Anyway, I feel compelled to congratulate one of my mistresses. Soon she shall have a Mister of her very own. Isn't that sweet. Also of note, another handsome hobbit has entered the world. Baby hobbit Parker was born shortly before midnight last night. Being a hobbit he is going to break hearts. More good news to come, I am sure. *fades out*

It's easy to halve the potato where there's love. ~Irish Proverb

Only love can be divided endlessly and still not diminish. ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I wish I could make people see the truth in that statement. They seem to think if I care at all for anyone else that they have a right to be angry or hurt. Thus they feel they can punish me or show me how wrong I am. That just makes me not care at all. You can only push so much before you lose control of the situation. How sad it will be when they see that. By that point, hopefully, my heart will have learned to be selfish. Can you teach your heart?

I wonder if my face haunts that single moment
Between waking and sleeping, when rest is spent
As you haunt me always, each breathe I take
Since the moment I felt your image break
Through my heart into that core of me
Where I've locked away a love for eternity
To haunt me when the storms come, peace flows
Does it haunt you too, your heart knows
That mine seeks it out while I pretend to sleep
And you know, too, does it make you weep

Sometimes I wonder how many people have tried to seduce others with words or ideas they found plastered on this wall. My grafitti for one that I post here to mock those who only think they know to whom it is addressed or why. Many poets are like the Sphinx. They are masters of riddles that can not go unspoken. They hold the secrets that go unbroken. They weave their words, set their traps. And silently laugh to think other finds some comfort in being only a cheap imitation of the pure emotion that truly drives them mad. Everyone has heard of the artists and poets who find themselves so consumed by their work that it kills them. What a glorious way to die though. If you can't die for passion or for love, you can always live for money, right?

I wondered as I look down upon a huge pile of Dr. Seuss classics if I really am all the terrible things people have said I am. I am certainly not normal. I remember how every other child wanted to read "Green Eggs and Ham". It was the most popular book in the grade school library, and it was always checked out. I never desired to read it, and I didn't until I was in my twenties and my godson got a copy. Then I read it, but not when I was a child, not when my eyes should have been wide at the very idea.

Of course, the Dr. Seuss books were not my task for the day. My task for the day involved fabulous names and fiche. Most of my days involve the fiche though. Some day (I am thinking 3016), I will finally close the last drawer on the last fiche. The very next day, a new wave of fiche will descend upon my desk and demand attention. I will cry and put down the rolls of microfilm and return to what I know best. A metaphor for life, perhaps.

So I got some new shoes the other day. I bought them based mainly on the fact that they are not white or pink and don't have springs in the heel. I have yet to figure out the spring-heeled desire of the running populace, but I think it breathes of a secret desire to be Tigger. As cool as Tigger is, I like to keep my shoe needs simple, so I can maintain my hobbit status. My boot needs though...that is a different story. In this modern age, a hobbit needs some height to keep from being trampled and overlooked.

My feet are not the only things with a lot of weight on them as anyone can imagine. My desk, for instance, is burdened with the joy that is work. Next week, I will finally see some movement of the over two thousand fiche that have washed up there pending a monthly cleansing ritual that we do to bring happiness to the world of government documents. I have baby showers to ponder and marriages to look forward to. I also have the same various issues to work through as the average hobbit. I have to protect the one ring from evil and discover my true friends. All in a days work though for one as short as me.

Actually, I spent the day putting more fiche in order. That was between requests for dramatic readings of Dr. Seuss. Some people thought I would just be sitting there reading on and on and on, but I thought that might begin to annoy some of my co-workers. Also, the fiche would get jealous and come and try to take me out. I don't need more battle scars. I still have a bruise on my arm from some battle I lost with Bruiser (aka Rodney) while I slept one night.

I did manage to slip a business dinner into my schedule though. A friend needed some creations done and respects my work enough to pay for it. Imagine that? So I have another project to add to my extensive list. Now I have to squeeze it in between my attempts to accommodate all the people who have expectations of me. Is it too much for me to want to be selfish long enough to do things that I need (not want--I do know the difference) to do for myself? Oy. Anyway, before more Seussical rhyme comes to weigh down my heavy feet, I think I shall be off to do something wild and crazy like relax (or so I hope).

We all have our different expectations of the world around us. Some are higher than others. Some are unrealistic. Some are downright asinine. Some are sensible and logical. Some require people to look outside themselves and see reality. A lot of people have trouble with the cold hard facts of reality. For instance, I have problems with people telling me that I am average height and don't have hairy toes. (I am the hobbit, dang it.)

I was surfing around last night. I do that sometimes when I can't quite remember what my exact goal was. I bumped into a blog where the person was sharing what seems to be a common blog lament--the lack of original thought. Apparently, someone copied and pasted an old blog entry, changed a few names and then called it their own. I can't understand how people take pride in something that didn't come from within themself. My fellow original blogger has my sympathy. I wonder if she also suffers from people repeating their blogs back to them in casual conversation (not sure how I am supposed to miss that it was a journal entry of mine when it is a topic that me and the vicarious thrill-seeker don't agree on). I don't understand people. It's a great big world. Quit making up your thrills and get on with your life. Hmm. That is good advice. I think I will take it.

"In the kingdom, the greater our responsibilities, the greater is our need to see ourselves as servants." ~Spencer W. Kimball (Ensign, May 1979, p. 107.)