The 9 Year Flood

I might’ve missed the actual date, but I sure as shit didn’t forget it.  Sunday, May 1st, 2010 was the 9th Anniversary of the founding of this diary.  Fuckin’ hell, man.  I might not have paid too terribly much attention to it over the past several years, but the fact that it still even fucking sits here after 9 years is amazing.  I say this every year at about this time, but there’s no fucking way in hell I will ever voluntarily delete this diary.  Hell…fucking….no.  There’s so much of my life poured out in these virtual pages that it isn’t even funny.  In a lot of cases, this diary serves as more of a memory of those times for me than my actual memory does.  Sad?  Yeah, probably.  But I don’t give a fuck.  I love this thing, and I’m (obviously) not ashamed to say it.  Next year?  It’ll be time to throw some kind of giant goddamn gala ball or something.  Ten years will be impressive as shit, I say.  

Very technical term, that, "impressive as shit."  Proud of m thoughtfulness this evening.  Yeah…..not so much.  What can I say?  Me not brain today.  Especially after numbing the fuck out of my mind at work all afternoon.  It’s what I do, y’know?

One of the main reasons I didn’t quite make it in here on Sunday was because of the amazing (and amazingly devastating) things befalling my home area of Middle Tennessee.  Personally, where I live wasn’t hit at all.  Had to fight a brief little battle against some water getting into my laundry room, but that’s it.  But other areas?  Completely and utterly devastated.  There were several places that were very Katrina-esque.  On the whole, I certainly wouldn’t compare the two, but seeing images of people on their roofs as their houses slowly disappear under rising flood waters is jarring.  Seeing images of downtown Nashville partially submerged is surreal.  Seeing Opry Mills mall and Opryland Hotel (which is literally just down the street from where I work, which has remained dry throughout) taking on 10-15 feet of water each?  That’s just nuts.  Seeing soccer fields in Bellevue, near the Harpeth River, where I played so many games in my youth underwater so deep that the light poles barely stick up over the top of it was just absolutely insane.  So many buildings lost, so many lives lost, so much damage and devastation.  It’s amazing.

Not that you’d know about it if you don’t live here.

That’s the galling thing here, to me.  I know it’s pissed off a lot of other people around here, too.  What do I mean?  No one seems to give a shit about any of this.  The national media isn’t even really covering it.  Maybe a 90 second blurb every two hours on Sunday and Monday.  Maybe.  I, and others here, firmly believe that a big reason for it is because we haven’t been looting or murdering.  Instead, the entire area has quietly banded together and taken care of our own.  I think we’d be getting plenty of attention if we were acting like retarded lemurs.  I honestly do.  And that’s just fucking sad.  I realize there are other "big" stories going on right now.  The oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico (which deserves a lot of attention….maybe not all that it’s getting, because talking about nothing but that for hours on end is wrong and ridiculous) and the car-bomb-that-wasn’t in New York City.  The car non-bomb getting so much run is what pisses me off the most.  Why?  BECAUSE FUCKING NOTHING HAPPENED!  And nothing would have happened.  It would’ve gone up like a big fireball and maybe hurt a few people if it went off.  Not an explosion, just a quick plume of fire, then nothing.  Here we have flood waters covering hundreds of miles, with over two dozen dead, and no one gives a fuck.  Pathetic.  If the two scenarios were reversed, and a non-bomb happened in Nashville with NYC getting flooded like this, well, Nashville still would get ignored.  I understand that NYC is a far bigger and more influential city, but this is just so out of hand.  Get over it.  Nothing happened, the douche that set it up is in custody.  Case closed.  How about we get onto something where attention needs to be called so that people can lend a hand.  We got all up in arms about helping New Orleans, Haiti, and Chile.  How about we do just one-fiftieth of that for a city full of good people that could use a helping hand?    Obviously that’s too much to ask of our national media.  

Thanks for nothing, you assholes. 

::exhales::

Now Playing in Dave’s Mental Jukebox:  "My Confession to an Adversary" by Evans Blue, "Crazy" by Mushroomhead, and "My Plague" by Kittie

Okay, so there was a little bit of anger there.  Just a little, though.  Riiiiight.

Sadly, I feel like my finacee has almost broken me………..she’s been after me to start a Facebook page for months, nay, a couple of years now.  I keep refusing, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up.  It isn’t like I’d have to pay attention to it.  She just wants it there for show, basically.  I don’t want to have to fuck with it, though.  I don’t care enough about what people are doing, y’know?  Status updates don’t mean shit to me.  If I cared, I’d call and ask.  I don’t care what you did 5 minutes ago.  I don’t care what you ate for dinner.  I don’t care who just turned you down for a date.  I don’t care what you’re feeling.  I’m an anti-social prick!  Social media amongst people I know is the last place I need to be.  I like operating here in relative obscurity (or total obscurity these days, I guess).  I dunno.  I mean, on one hand, the vast, vast, vast majority of the people I know now don’t know me as the "something of a wordsmith" that I fancy myself.  They don’t know what/how/why I think.  I kinda like it that way, but I also think it’d be interesting to expose some of ’em to that.  Blow their minds, in some cases, I think.

See what I’m talking about?!  I can’t even stop considering doing it when I’m trying to rail against why I don’t want one!  Fuckin’ hell!

With now just under 6 months left before the wedding, Heather and I finally booked a venue.  So that’s good.  A nice, historic old house, with a couple of different outdoor areas in which to hold the actual ceremony.  And we’re now definitely on for Sunday, October 31st.  Halloween wedding!  Everyone is so pissed that, A) we’re having it on a Sunday ("wah, wah, wah, I have to travel on Monday now instead and miss another day of work," to which I say, "FUCK YOU…if it’s that big of a problem, then we don’t fucking want you there.") and that, B) we’re not allowing anyone to come in a Halloween costume.  We’ve already discussed

that this is grounds for being booted the fuck out.  No matter who it is.

But now that we have the place picked out, we just need to do, y’know, everything else.

I think I’ve done an okay job of throwing some lime green on black cranial excrement out there.  Time to away! 

Sayonara.