Where she stops, nobody knows.

I am constantly teetering on the edge of either falling into the warm abyss of happiness or the pit of misanthropic hell. I understand that my brain is still finding a new center point since I've quit smoking and started exercising. There's bound to be a period of time where my brain chemistry is righting itself after the winds of quitter-dom blew the nicotine out of the boat of my grey matter, but how long is that grace period exactly? Is there a specific calculation factoring time of active addiction, time of abstenince, and amount of endorphins from exercise? At what point am I able to say "Ok, this is as happy/grumpy I can expect to be from here on out and if I feel a need for a change in perspective, this is the chemical base point from which to work."? No one has really been able to give me a specific answer as to when I can stop fretting about the emotional pendulum I'm riding. I know where the center point is, I swing past it all day long, and I'm never sure which reaction zone I'll swing into next.

Reaction to the news of the day:

Much to my suprise, Lewis "Scooter" Libby was convicted on four felony counts of lying to a grand jury. They didn't buy his claims of memory lapse, which is a relief. If he is sentenced to any time, it will be in a country club jail where he will suffer the unimaginable torture of steak and lobster only once a week and having to play golf on the same 18 holes day after day for up to two years. But he did get convicted, and rolled over on Cheney who is in dire need of severe comeuppance. I think that Bush is doing serious damage to our country that will take much time and many resources to undo. But he is Tiddlywinks compared to how insidious Cheney is. My favorite story about kind of person Dick is happened in June 2004. While senate was in session, Cheney was getting grilled by Senator Leahy about Halliburton and Cheney got his feathers ruffled and told Leahy "go fuck yourself". Charming. I understand that people get heated up and tense under pressure, but if you can't keep your snarling at a minimum when people are poking at you about your business dealings, get an IT job. Especially if you want to be the next president, Dick.

I don't have much faith in politicians in general, so when the system works, I feel suprised, cautious and minimally hopeful. I know that Libby getting a small slap on the wrist for lying to a grand jury is a miniscule triumph in comparison to what politicians get away with on a regular basis, but this is an imprtant triumph. I realize that a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step and the journey of reclaiming this amazing country from business interests and bringing it back to the people, all of us, is a worthy journey. I know, it's a big lofty pipe dream, but go big or go home.

Then I think that this is a small distraction that the Illuminati put in the paper to make us feel placated. Lulls us into the notion that the system actually works for us and is keeping us all safe from those mean guys who want to steal our democracy and lie to us. In the meantime, the Illuminati are sitting on their uncharted island just off the coast of Peru, drinking the preserved blood of Hitler and planning the next world war. These ideas make me want to eat exotic cheeses with Bear who works at Zingerman's, drink wine and shop for vinyl and pay no mind to the puppets who pose as our "world leaders".

Regardless of what the truth may be, "Scooter" is one of the stupidest nicknames for a 56 year old man I've ever heard of.