How much do I love her?

She takes hours to decide on which notebook to buy. The cover design and overall color has to be perfect to her liking. The paper has to be just the right texture. It has to be the right size and the right weight.

She has to find the right brand of pen. She has to try all of the many different colors out. (The brand has many different colors to choose from.) It has to have the right pigmentation that won't be too much of an effort to read but still looks nice and pretty.

Then I find out, to my horror, that the nice new pen she bought isn't for her note taking but for her reviewer notes.

So she needs to get the best brand of writing pen: possibly the one that has a good grip so she won't mess up her perfectly good hand writing. (Yes it's really, really pretty, her handwriting.)

On the other hand, I need 10 minutes. 2 to get the blue corona notebook and the black pilot ball point pen. 8 to stand in line waiting for my turn to pay up.

This is how much I love her.

We meet again

It's amazing to discover how fast your mind can run and how far it can unravel when you have quiet time.

Aspects of my relationships in general were broken down and analyzed in their base forms. I took cues from the most surprising sources. I dared to ask the questions I never had the heart to ask. The search for truth is constant and never ending. I kept it bottled up for so long and this week I set it lose upon my world.

It's exhilarating, this intensity that I have not felt in a while. Metaphysical unease - we meet again.

Shall we dance the dance one more time?

Strike 1

If there's one thing about western mythology that fascinates me, it's probably the fact that gods had the same issues that troubled us mere mortals. The Greeks had a womanizing, playboy of a supreme ruler who's married to a bitter and vengeful old hag. He had bastard children and the wife gave them hell. There was in-breeding and scandal. It was a never ending game of politics, red tape and corruption.

If they were really up there in Mount Olympus looking down on us as we lived our miserable mortal lives, what would they be thinking?