Low motivation day. Not that I’m short of motivation, really; just that I lack the will to do the things which I am actually supposed to do.
I always did have a hard time paying attention to the trivial things in life like my job, when there are seemingly so many more important things in the world. Like love, and art, and forming spectacular new relationships, and building bridges, and finding God, and Big Ideas, and generally saving the world. There was a period where I managed to stuff all that stuff and bury my head in the dirt of practicality. These days it’s harder than ever to focus on the mundane.
I had a fun weekend. Yard sale-ing, reading, picnicking, hiking, video gaming, drinking good beer on the porch with avivahg and my mom. Good times.
The urge lingers. I still want to be alone.
I’m reading The Ethical Slut now. No great revelations yet, but some good advice. It’s entirely academic to me at this point and for the foreseeable future; but I’ve had it recommended to me on general relationship management grounds, not just as a guide to polyamory. I’m not sure how I feel about the author’s attempt to reclaim the word “slut”. There is something to be said for having a derogatory word for someone who sleeps around indescriminately, irresponsibly, and without care for the health and well-being of themselves or others; and “slut” is already well-established. Unlike the word “hacker”, I’m not aware of any original positive connotation of “slut” which exists to be reclaimed. Question to the poly folks who read this: do you think of yourself or describe yourself as a slut?
Starting to mentally gear-up for (read: freak out about) our planned vacation at the 2005 Porcupine Festival. avivahg is trying to prevail upon me to purchase a large (“family size”) tent. I’m not sure I can get over my allergy to big tents; there’s a part of me that says if you can stand up in it, you might as well be in an RV. Option two is to buy another small tent for the kids; but I sincerely doubt they want to be in the same tent together. Which suggests option 3, one tent each; but the predictable outcome of that would be them crawling into our tent because they are scared at night. Which puts us back at square one. Shame on me for not getting them out into the woods at night often enough.