Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?

It's rare for me to remember my dreams. Nightmares, rarer still.

There are a few that have been so powerful that they've haunted me well after I've rejoined the waking world. I had one last night, and some say it's therapeutic to talk about them, to help you get over them and understand them, so bear with me.

I dreamt I was a toothpick. Yes, I'm aware how silly that was, but everyone were toothpicks, and all living in some strange black and white and shades of gray world. I was standing along the riverbank and off on the other side was a huge, floating city, larger than the island of Manhattan, all silver...but not a bright silver, but a dull color.

The city was made up of toothpick-people, all...assimilated...into a collective, all individual will repressed, no life, no thoughts...just cold toothpick people who became the buildings, the roads, the city itself, and I knew it was looking for more people.

Think the Borg from Star Trek and you've got the idea.

They were taking everyone...friends, family, whatever...and absorbing them into the city. I saw them coming for me and I flew (hey, if I'm a toothpick, I can do pretty much anything, right) away to escape while everyone else became just pieces of a larger puzzle but with no minds of their own.

(For the record, last night, I didn't watch any Sci-Fi. I watched Ratatouille on DVD, which was quite good.)

I flew and flew and flew. Every time I thought I was safe, this dull silver floating city made of toothpick people kept following me, taking away everyone else around me. Only I could escape. In the end, everyone else was gone, swallowed up, and I was alone.

Damn dream woke me up from a good night's sleep. I just laid there in bed for the next hour and a half, trying to get comfortable again and trying not to think about it but it was still there in the back of my mind, one particular scene. Me, as a toothpick, lying in the grass in some empty countryside, alone.

Strange things, dreams.

Brand new morning

Saturday morning. I've been up for the past, roughly, three hours and I've been busy. So far I've showered, shaved, cleaned the bathroom, changed the sheets on the bed, started the laundry, had breakfast and done some light cleaning.

I've felt...disconnected...from reality for so long, it seems. It's good to be back doing some of the simple things in life. Some of them are annoying but necessary, some of them are just simple pleasures.

Yesterday, I had lunch with one of my best friends, back in town for Thanksgiving, and it was great catching up with her. Miss hanging out with her, and we had a great time. After having some great wings (and cheesesticks) at Quaker Steak and Lube (someplace else I haven't been in awhile), we drove over to Caribou Coffee (a place she doesn't have over in Vegas) for a delicious Chai. The place was busy...I guess everyone was out shopping on so-called Black Friday.

The day after Thanksgiving, here in the States if you aren't aware, is traditionally the busiest shopping day of the year and the one day I do my level best to avoid the stores. However, after lunch with my bud, I ventured forth to one of the department stores because, well, I'm a schmuck.

It was great, though! It wasn't all that crowded...like a normal weekend shopping day. I guess because all the stores were open since the middle of the night, all the hard-core shoppers got up at 2 in the morning (if they managed to avoid the effects of tryptophan in the turkey they had the day before), leaving it free for the rest of us.

I'm glad I did stop. I've needed new flannel sheets for a little while, and they had a complete set for $13. Fitted sheet, flat sheet and pillow slips...thirteen bucks. That was a bargain!

But the best place to go the day after thanksgiving...the grocery store. It's amazing...it's virtually empty! Everyone did their food shopping the day before Thanksgiving, and everyone's still too stuffed to go shopping. I intentionally let the shopping go so I can go to the store on Black Friday. There was no milk in the house for two days, just so I could avoid the store until yesterday. Amazing feeling, going through the store that day, and there's hardly anyone else around. I love it.

Well, I've rattled enough. Back to laundry and cleaning. Think I'll get the Christmas wreaths out today and hang them in the windows today. I can start to feel the spirit of the season in me, and there's nothing better than the feeling of Christmas.

Breathe, kids.

Happy Thanksgiving

My friends, please forgive me for the drama of the past few days.

Things will be up and down for a bit, but I promise you, I'll be fine.

For now, to my American friends and readers, Happy Thanksgiving.
For everyone else...breathe. :)

A casual commentary on things

For some reason, Howard Jones' No One is to Blame just seems to fit so well right about now. Always did love that song (especially the Phil Collins percussion work in the original version), but today, after doing a little thinking, it's taken on a new meaning for me.

Hmm. Maybe I can go on breathing after all.

You can look at the menu but you just can't eat
You can feel the cushions but you can't have a seat
You can dip your foot in the pool but you can't have a swim
You can feel the punishment but you can't commit the sin

And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can build a mansion but you just can't live in it
You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win
Some break the rules
And live to count the cost
The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost

And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can see the summit but you can't reach it
Its the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit
Doctor says you're cured, but you still feel the pain
Aspirations in the clouds but your hopes go down the drain

And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame

Be happy.

Meet the new boss...same as the old boss...

Today's been a good day, overall.

Spent time with My Kid, and it was wonderful today. She was alert, talkative, joking, laughing, remembering a bunch of stuff. Yeah, she was a bit confused about a few things (forgot her brother died back in WWII), and she finally realized that she's about an hour away from her former home, but she was on fire. Been a long time since she'd been that way...this was closer to the way My Kid used to be.

They say with Alzheimer's patients, you'll have good days and bad days. Today was a good day. A very good day, and one to help me with the days that aren't so good.

Had an incredible dinner. I stopped at Smokey Bones for a pulled pork & smoked sausage dinner...and it was so good. I hadn't been there in a month of Sundays, and man, did I miss it. I owed myself a good dinner, and man, was it good!

On the drive home, I was thinking about my online name. Who I was, and how I should present myself online. That's when I decided...I need to be myself, and I need to be true to myself.

That's when it came to me.

Ladies and gentleman, let me introduce you to...



Onestar.
And I'm not wearing any pants.

I am who I am. I'm not gonna change. I'll get older, I'll understand myself a bit better, but I'm still the boobie-lovin' goofball with a baldspot, a goofy lopsided smile and a heart of gold deep down inside.

If you don't like it...don't come around here to my blog.

Onestar's back, baby.

I've got dreams to remember

The title's from a song by Otis Redding.

Been listening to a lot of 50's and 60's R&B as of late. I go through different musical moods, like everyone else. These days, it's classic R&B: Otis, Marvin Gaye, Johnny Ace, Ivory Joe Hunter...folks like that. Seems like I've been listening a lot to XM Radio's Soul Street when I'm out & about.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Music is an integral part of my life. I can remember growing up, the radio was on more than the television. I literally wore out some old records from playing them too much. I'd play Johnny Horton's "Battle of New Orleans" so many times, over and over, I think I just about drove My Kid crazy.

I remember vinyl. I remember 8-tracks and cassettes. I also remember when CDs first came out and thought the concept was so cool. My music in a portable format, nice and crisp and digital...so cool. (Of course, nowadays, we're all about retro and vinyl and how we miss the pops and hisses we used to have on records. All that proves is that people are fickle and we change our minds constantly...)

Still have my first CD: The Unforgettable Glenn Miller. Yeah, I've gotta be different. You'd think, someone my age, in his late teens and early 20's, first CD player, would get something from that period. What do I get? 40's Big Band music.

Proof that I'm unique, and that's a nice way of saying strange.

...

Really, I didn't have anything else to say. I'm still trying to figure out what to call myself. I'd considered "ellipsis", since I'm always typing the "...", but that doesn't seem to fit. Still not using my real name online. I thought, for a few minutes, about "JAFI" (Just another fucking idiot), but I can think of two...maybe three...people out there who'd smack me upside the head because of my low self-esteem and self-depreciating sense of humor.

Eh, there's no rush. This isn't a destination I'm trying to reach. I know who I am, but I just don't know what to call myself.

For now...I'm just me. Nothing less, and nothing more.

The "Death" of Onestar

Well, if you've stopped by here, no doubt, you're wondering just what the heck is going on.

My DA account? Pretty much gone. The last few journals are gone.
My SA account? Closed for now. I'll come back to it in 2008 full-time. Right now, I'm in super lurker mode.

Several blog posts are gone? Yeah, well...

For those of you who don't know, my lady and I have decided to part ways. Please don't ask for details...it's just one of those things that happens. I still care for her and wish her the best. It just wasn't meant to be, that's all.

But it did get me thinking. It's time for me to make some changes in my life, and one of the biggest ones is that as of today, "Onestar" is, well, no more.

"Onestar" is a character I created over 15 years ago for a Dungeons and Dragons game I was in at the time. For those who play or have played D&D, you'll understand why I loved the character. When I rolled the samurai's stats, he was pretty much all 18's, and the DM was a firm believer of first edition rules, so when he explained Psionics to me, I was intrigued, and he let me roll for them. "Onestar" had the second-highest psionic points you could get...he was, truly, a character who could do no wrong.

Around that time, I also started working full-time for the library system, and needed to create an e-mail/login account. Well, my last name can be misspelled quite easily, so "onestar" seemed the logical choice. An online persona was born, as it were.

Over the years, "Onestar" went onto other things...creating an e-zine that, at the time of the mid-nineties, was pretty good with over 200 readers at it's peak. The login followed me around to various sites and places, and when I joined DeviantArt in 2001, it was, once again, the perfect choice for a handle.

"Onestar", or "Onie" as he had become known over there, was a different character than the real me. He was much more flirtatious, more easy going, more of a cad than the real me. Folks still don't believe, to this day, that the real me is kinda shy and retiring, although I do hide it well with a mask of bravado. "Onie" was a ladies man, something I'm not, let me assure you. He might seem like a "love 'em and leave 'em" kinda character, but the real me longed to find true love, my soul mate, someone to share my life with.

"Onestar" became a figurehead, of sorts, over at DA. His "cult of personality" and "harem" were somewhat well known, but there were only a handful...more than likely whomever's reading this...who were given the opportiunity to learn my real name and try to get to know the "real me", if such a thing exists.

Sure, there were a few times the "real me" would step out from behind the curtain and let the boobie-loving goofball guard down. Those moments were few and far between, to be sure. It was far, far easier to be an online flirt full of his own bullshit than to be, well, me.

Then came the changes at DA. Jark was gone, the ninja in his place. Traditionally, samurai don't get along well with ninja, and I became, once again, a figurehead trying to rally support to Scott's side. Sure, it was like pissing in the wind, as a friend might say, but he's still my friend...his Mom is someone I care for deeply, being one of the few Deviants from that place whom I've had the chance to meet "in real life", and was someone who trusted me with the knowledge that she WAS Scott's mom, long before the rest of the world knew. I was honored by that, and was willing to do anything for her son...my friend.

DA became too big, too much. I needed a break from the place. Left for awhile (only to sneak in, as a lot of you know, under the guise of "mordalo") only to return as "Onestar", that lovable goofball, until Storm Artists popped up.

My disillusionment with DA, my fascination with the place long faded, I left there for brighter shores, bringing some of you with me. Thank you for that. It meant a lot, knowing you tagged along for the ride.

Before I'd left DA, I'd met someone...my aforementioned lady...and we met out here "in the real world" and became friends. She fell in love with me long before I realized I loved her back, and we...well...

Blogs may be great places to document thoughts and share lives, but some memories stay personal.

That was yesterday, and like the old song goes, "yesterday's gone". So, too perhaps, should "Onestar". I'm not ready to reveal my "real name" online just yet, and I've no other nickname ready...so for the forseeable future, this blog shall be titled "The Journal of ..." until I know which direction I want to take it.

I've been "Onestar" for the past 15 years. He's been the one to get the women, the power, the glory. Me...I don't really want power and glory, and all I'd really like is to find someone to love and someone to love me, but if I don't find that...it's all right. I think I'll be fine being alone.

(Don't frown over the thought of that. Long ago, I realized that there was a good chance I'd be alone after a certain point...I've come to terms with it, and trust in the Universe to take care of me.)

The only constant in this universe is change, and there's always a brand new day waiting for us when we're ready for it. I'm not afraid of these changes. I embrace them. I'm just trying to be true to myself...the man I really am, and not some character who hides behind a keyboard, masking fears and insecurities behind boobie and hump-day jokes.

I'll still take pictures. Might share one or two of them here, but I'll post 'em over at my flickr page, conveniently linked here, just for you. :)

If you want, take a moment and help me bid "Onestar" a fond farewell. All you see, now, is me.
And believe me, I'm not that bad a guy, really. Still a bit of a goofball, slightly balding, lopsided smile and everything else.

It's my turn now.

I got a new suit

For those of you lucky enough to be at the Denise and Rene's wedding, you'll get to see me in person wearing it.

For those of you who won;t be there...here ya go. :)

I suck at haiku

Guess I need new jeans.
Just found a hole in the crotch.
My fingers are chilly.

To download or not to download, that is the question

Yet another semi-rant about music. You've been warned. ;)

Recently, I was reading a article over at Music Tap about a new service called MusicStack. Essentially, it's a clearing house for hard to find tunes, especially if you're looking for used CDs or, better yet, vinyl.

I've only been to the website once or twice. If I spend too much time over there, no doubt I'll find more and more stuff to buy, and my credit card's already groaning at me. Have to back off the spending for a bit. There's still a couple things, gifts mostly, that I want to get for the family, so I'll wait until, oh maybe, June, before I go back and look again.

What got me thinking, however, was the author's comments Compact Discs in this age of digital downloads. He brings up several good points, including that more and more younger people just prefer instant gratification and have a lesser-quality version of the song downloaded in a few minutes, rather than going to the store to get the album, or worse, getting a record through mail order.

Quality issues aside, there's something more...fulfilling...about having a CD. I'm tactile by nature. It's great actually holding the case, fumbling to get the booklet out, and putting the disc in the player. It's a sense of satisfaction, of accomplishment, of actually owning the record instead of just seeing a file magically appear on my computer.

Compact discs may be well on the way of the cassette, the LP, and shudder, the 8-Track. Quite frankly, I still love them (as you well know), and will continue to collect CDs for as long as they're available.

They. Just. Sound. Better. Pure and simple, and yes, I can tell the difference. I'm a music snob, all right? I would LOVE to be able to plunk down the extra cash for a nice set of headphones (preferably Bose, just to see if I can make the Priestess drool) or speakers for my aging system.

I'd love to wire the house for sound, putting surround sound speakers in each room and maybe put in a music server (with a large honkin' hard drive and uncompressed copies of the music files on it, and play 'em all at random), but I still need my CDs. I need the original, the archival copy.

In my younger days, in need of cash, I had to sell off some of my collection. I'm trying to get some of those old discs back, but it's not easy. They're not available. They've been "remastered" and just don't sound as good. They're just generally hard to find. It's a shame, really...some of those discs were good, and now they're lost, probably forever (unless I feel like spending far more than they're worth and get them from a smart collector who didn't sell theirs off).

Music drives me. Music feeds me. Music keeps me sane. I can do without the television, the satellite dish, but I need my tunes, and having my CDs right there, at hand, when I'm ready...it's a satisfying feeling.

I'm one person who shuns this new "digital download" era, and still wants his music the old fashioned way: On a medium I can hold in my hands and play when I want. Please don't take that away from me.

Corcovado

I'm sitting in a Caribou Coffee, sipping a chai and surfing the web.
I swear, they have the best chai, period.

Still just breathing, learning to be.