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Friday, February 4, 2011

Timeline: Part 1

I could go on about the lack of snow in my city. I could say a lot about the hole in my heart that the snow was supposed to fill. But that's so negative. Chances are, I will forget about the ordeal in about a week, and if you would have read it, you would have forgotten it, too. I forgive Snow. In fact, because maybe it had family issues. Maybe it was called into work. Maybe its wife was having a baby. Very legitimate reasons for absence. It's easier to go through life without bringing up the terrible things of the past. So instead of bitching, I will try to post some of the ideas I have been working on, yet can't post because the timing was off. Timing is important. Here goes:

I've been alive for a decent amount of time. Shorter than many, longer than some. I don't really consider myself to be a bad person, for my conscience knows when shit's about to go down and it prevents my body from doing anything. I'm not a genius by modern standards but I know what's going on most of the time. I miss many major details at first, but I enjoy looking back on the past and trying to analyze it. I do much better with analyzing life than I do with English excerpts. In all honesty, I couldn't care less about what a random British author meant by using a staircases as a symbol for peace. (Staircases also represent journeys and tribulations or even joy and fear. Whatever floats your boat. Which could represent motivation and determination.) It sounds really selfish, and I don't really like about myself as much as I like to listen to others blab on about themselves. There's a little tick mark-maker in my brain that ticks whenever I use first person words on the interwebs, and it makes me aware of how much I refer to myself. I don't like it. But on the internet, especially a blog, that's sort of the purpose. So when I say timeline,  it is a timeline of my life. *tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick* But I'm pretty sure that most people go through the same general experiences. Basically, let me lead you through a human life, with as little first person references as possible. Let's make babies!

Sperm meets egg: This is technically one being. It's like dualism. Like Jesus. When they meet, they form an embryo. Let's call it Bartholomew, who will be referred to as "you."  Way to go! You are the result of true love, a drunk night, or a seriously tragic event that should not be made fun of.

Sperm meets taste buds: You're doing it wrong. Still probably the result of true love, a drunk night, or a SERIOUSLY tragic event that should not be made fun of.

Fetus: Oh hey, just checking in on you again. You're developing quite nicely. I see how plump you have gotten, and how soft your skin is. Might want to kick around a few times in there, because right now your mother is having people rub her stomach like a globe and she told them that she felt something earlier.

"Fetus Teenager": This is basically point where you are a fetus that is old enough to move out of your parent's house...or your actual parent, yet you still require nourishment. The messiness and dampness of the womb serves as a standard that you follow when you get outside your mommy and get an actual room. It's supposed to be really comfortable.

Newborn: Congratulations, Human! You have successfully completed your first quest. Welcome to a place where you can breathe, and giggle, and vomit, and have people care for you hand and foot. Welcome to a place where, right now, everything revolves around you and you can get just about anything by opening your mouth. UH OH. Your parents want to change your original name to one picked from an online baby name site. DAMN IT. The things you would have done as a Bartholomew. The chicks you would have gotten. The posse you would have had. Now you are Michael, and your new world comes crashing down. It is a short-lived time, so enjoy it while you can.

Couple o' months old: Aw, wook ah dhe wittle babeh. You've made great progress in releasing bodily fluids from every one of your orifices, gotten a few infections, filled the house with baby smell. Some people don't mind baby vomit, as it mostly smells sweet, and full of the love from the bond you get from breastfeeding. I really don't mind baby vomit at all. *tick*

6 months old: Great. You can roll around now. Or crawl. And you are making sounds in a desperate attempt to communicate. "I'm hungry, I don't want everyone crowding around me and squeezing me, I just want boobies," is sadly, "boooooo *giggle* aaaaaaaaaah." Your schedule consists of waking up, wailing, drinking, sleeping, having people change your diaper, having girls coo at you, sleeping, having men hold you up high, and sleeping. Your parents may express mild annoyance but they care for you out of love. And the need for silence. Basically, everyone else's dream life later on. Again, enjoy it while you can.

One year old: Oh. Hot. Damn. You. Can. Walk. That is RIGHT MOTHERSUCKERS (which you still might be). We're talking world domination up in this household, 'cuz this son is fixing to DESTROY. You notice that your parents express their annoyance more often, but do you care? It's sort of like you're being born all over again, because you are now a legitimate member of Walkers of the World.

Two, three, four, five years old: This is condensed because a lot happens, but space is limited. You learn to be slightly more independent, you get potty-trained (your parents kiss the ground you walk on now, and they don't have to worry about it being *as dirty* as it would have been. Even with, and maybe you start learning the skills that society requires you to know. Oh, what's this? The attention dies down a little. People don't squeeze you as much, you cry yet not as many people seem to notice, or care. Hello, foreshadowing! But still, at this point, this is the chillest point of your life and the chillest it is going to be.

This is where the variety kicks in. For some people. Which is why I am ending it here. For the most part, people follow the basic outline. It seems really incomplete, but I'll release parts 2 and 3...maybe 4 later on, as to not bombard you with something you may or may not like all at once.

Have a chipper, snow-filled, or snow-void day. Is "void" the correct term to use? Don't answer that...

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