Almost grabbed a prompt and did a flash. My flashes have been coming out sort of silly of late. Maybe that’s a good thing, maybe I have pent up silliness. It’d be really cool if we could do that with emotions, save them for when we need them, but we can’t. When you swallow rage it spills over when the cup gets too full, when you quash silliness it leaks out the holes in your armor. It’s really hard to pin down what exactly an emotion is, yet we know exactly how they act and what they look like on a person when they spill over.
Certain professions and certain games are sort of like contests on who can hide emotions the best. Poker for instance, or being a cop. I guess I’m pretty good at it, but I don’t love it the way some do. I’m more like a serial killer; I want the recognition that I just succeeded. Heh, ok, too extreme, it’s more like I’d rather hide my emotions by exaggerating them to the point that it seems a fabrication. Or not, shit, I don’t know.
Turns out my key lime coconut concoction turned out really good (though I should give it more time to steep). I had to write that, and, even so, I’ll probably fuck with it, violate the cardinal rule; if it ain’t broken don’t fix it.
I started a few days ago with lower the amount of nicotine in my juice. The homemade stuff allows me greater control over this. Although I have flasks and beakers, the math is pretty simple. If you use a 36mg nicotine solution for half of the mixture it will be an 18mg juice. Say you are making 50ml, 25 ml nic, 5 ml (10 percent) flavoring, 20 ml either VG or PG (the two usda additives sans nic) --- well, you don’t need advanced math. You do, however, need a sort of cooking skill that some folks have and some don’t and you can’t really teach; does it look right? Is it the right consistency? Color? Does it smell right? Does this tell your taste buds that it is right? Ok, the last holds true only for food, you can’t taste the juice as you make it. You know what I mean; some people cook by their senses, some by recipes --- you can do both, but following a recipe to the letter is never going to taste quite as good as some improv from a good cook.
There are places online where people post their juice recipes. I’m thinking I won’t join them. I could tell you exactly how I was planning on making my first batch, but I fucked with it and I couldn’t tell you how many extra dashes of this and that and distilled water for consistency I added after the basic formula.
I feel a little guilty for not seeing my dad yesterday. I might not today either. I think it’s even for the best, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty. Although she hasn’t said it, I don’t think my mom wants to be alone with him. The worst part being that there is nothing to talk about, I mean with him, he can’t track a conversation and so he doesn’t care. When he’s not completely self-absorbed he’s good at small talk. After 65 years of marriage there isn’t much small talk left. I’m sure there are ways to engage him, it just seems like a lot of work, and, you know, we’re sort of grieving. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge all that’s happened, but my mom and I do.
I don’t know. I’m sore all over. I moved a lot of stuff to the apartment and I built the computer kneeling on the floor, flashlight in mouth, plugging small things onto the board. Getting a few fans, a blu ray burner and another SATA III drive. The fans will let me overclock. I was hoping they wouldn’t come until Tuesday; they’re coming tomorrow. I might wait a day or two to put them in. Sore; legs, back, numb left arm. The surgery, over a year ago now, was a success but the arm is still not the same, just better than it was. When I do things like move bedding, clothes, furniture and build little things on the floor, it gets numb for a bit.
Usually I prefer pain to numb. Pain is your friend; it tells you something is wrong. Numb tells you something is wrong too but it doesn’t have as much subtext that it can be fixed. Pain I can deal with; numbness deals with you, um, me.
I ramble. Maybe I’ll do a flash later, if I’m not feeling overly silly about it.
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