FUCK

I was at the club having a good time.

I drank a Red Bull, and combined with the hyperactivity inspired by working out earlier today, I danced my rear end off.

During this, some retarded excuse for a mammal with an opposable thumb broke into my ’93 Lumina, tore off the dash, yanked out a FOUR-YEAR-OLD CD PLAYER that SKIPS every time I drive over a railroad track. Then, they upended and seemingly TOOK my backpack. They emptied it of all its contents, apparently.

What they probably found out later is that they got an inexpensive Advantix Camera, CoreComm‘s Palm III (that’s right, folks, it’s that old), a bag of ten-sided dice, a pen, post cards written to my friends, some stamps, and a smooth rock. Oh, they also got Ani’s dead Discman and headphones.

The most damage is in the radio and the dash.

Anybody want to help me buy a new stereo and help me install it myself? There might be some wiring that needs to be fixed in the car, but I’ll pay you to help me out. :)

Tomorrow I get to put a trash bag over the broken window. It’ll be hard to notice. To a blind leper.

I got my car out of the shop less than three weeks ago.

Culmination of Anticlimax

These things are outside of me:

and ‘s breaking up.
and ‘s ill-fated attempt at friendship.
Work.

These are things being thought about by me:

Continuation of my game.
Increasing the membership of my game. There is currently a poll open in the email list to switch the Fridays we alternate on. That would allow anybody that goes to IPM to also come to my game *cough**cough**cough* as well as to return.
will be DJ’ing tomorrow night at Spiral. Woot!
Working out with Alex, then chilling with .
Getting batteries for my Palm III.

Mmmm… bass line goodness….

New Toy

Yup. I got the iMac. It made me smile.

Being up at 1 am doing laundry, when I know I’m gonna pay for it tomorrow makes me smile more.

Good lord, what would I do if I didn’t storytell at least once every other week? What would I do if I didn’t have a regular game to attend at all? Would I spontaneously combust? Holy shit… I’m considering it.

Laundry’s almost done. Tired.

Well, I’ve finished transferring all of my old fiction and poetry off of Pleeb and on to . Doing this gradually has made me fairly retrospective. I’ve also had this odd feeling of “queershiftyness” as would put it. This type of feeling always ends up turning out well.

I get my Mac either tomorrow night or on Friday. Woot! :)

Weather or not I go down to the d-town area on Saturday, I’ll be in Birch Run with my Grandparents, Mom, Dad, and brother to celebrate my Dad’s 55th birthday. Oh, and I’m running my game on Friday. Dunno if it’ll be worth continuing… it’s had a good run. *SHRUG*

Ahh, moving on.

I boofed yer mom.

I haven’t really had that much new to say lately. Going through my old poetry and fiction on Pleeb and posting it to has put me in an odd state of contemplation of the past and my apparent failure to strive toward any specific future.

I haven’t given up, I’m just pondering the why of things. I don’t really expect an answer, I just would rather not be so unsettled by the now.

[Essay] Personal Definition

Personally defining one’s history, family, religious bend, nationalism, and place within the world. These thoughts come to me while watching Contact, of all things.

As a ninth-generation American with a generally WASP (White Anglo Saxon Protestant) background, I’ve grown up with the niche in our society as a consumer. Maybe I should clarify. My mother is a non-denominational Christian that doesn’t go to church, but has a strong and subtle faith that can only be described as permeating. My father is a third-generation agnostic that seems to only be recently discovering (or re-discovering) a desire for spirituality in homage to nature and an investigation of Native American traditions from different tribes. Mind you, this is quite recent.

Also, I grew up in what can only be called a consumer-based setting. Pure suburbia. My parents wanted (and want) me to be happy. This was translated into comfortable, and not entirely incorrectly. I was (and am) a smart person, and gloried in this to a fault during Junior and High Schools. So, it was a logical and foregone conclusion that I would go to college and excel. Again, this is entirely from the worldview, background, and moral system of an American consumer. From there, I would get a good job, be comfortable, and lead a happy life.

Didn’t happen that way, and I’m glad.

If you’ve read this far, I want to let you know what my plan is. I’m going to write about the importance of personal definition with examples of my own life.

First off, personal history. I don’t think that any of us is content to limit our own histories to the physical amount of time that we’ve existed. We take the histories of every other aspect of our lives and take them as our own. Even though I had no part of it, my ancestors oppressed, killed, and moved the entire Native American culture in our territory. And sometimes, I feel guilty. Other times, I feel indignant that this kind of history can effect me. Sometimes, I feel jealous of the cultural histories that others have available to define them.

So where am I going to find a timeline, a history, a culture, that’s bigger than me? Where can I find this without stealing from another culture?

I could look to my family. I am immensely proud of my immediate family. Hell, even my extended family makes me proud most of the time. But take it back further, to people I don’t know… most seem to have been good people, but entirely non-descript. The only story we have is of the first Crampton in the States, who was put in the stocks for lying, cheating, and swearing. So, I’ve found a history, but it only really goes back two generations. Nevertheless, I’ve taken this history and made it part of myself. Anyone that knows me well knows how much pride I’ve placed in this little bit of history.

I could look to religion. In fact, I have. The traceable history of Wicca (I should say the verifiable history) only extends into the 1940’s. This was when the anti-witchcraft laws in Great Britain were repealed, and Wiccans and Witches had the choice of becoming public. There are plenty of histories that circulate among different Traditions and among Solitaries, but there are as many that are wild and fantastic as there are that are possibly factual. As my religion closely reflects my genetic heritage (English, German, Scottish, and Irish), I feel validated and without guilt in taking this history as my own.

I could look to my nation. There is a problem with this, though, as mentioned earlier. I know our history fairly well, and I know a bit of our history from other peoples’ point of view. I’m not proud of what our nation has done on a large scale, and I’m not proud of a lot of things our nation is doing right now. When it comes down to it, I think that the last people who should be in politics are politicians. There has to be a lot more blatant and bald-faced honesty in this place before I’m going to be able to respect it. But I’m not sitting on my ass in respect to the problems I have with my government. I’ve even considered getting into politics, though not becoming a politician. But that’s neither here nor there. Our nation’s history is something I make a part of myself without glorification and without love. I do make it a part of my personal history with hope.

So, where do I fit in the world, then? Where have my efforts of personal definition left me? Why in the world should I have gone to this effort? A strong sense of self can be achieved when defining yourself during the time in which you have actually existed, but that sense tends to fade without linking the self to a history or set of histories that are larger than the individual. Being part of something larger provides stability and strength that can cushion and support the sense of self when it becomes hazy or unsure.