https://www.reddit.com/r/ardenhouse

I got a message the other day informing me of an appointment on Monday 02/Sep/15.  Corrected swiftly to Wednesday 02/Sep/15.  Which got me to wondering how far in the future it would take before 02/Sep/15 was a Monday.  (It turns out that it'll only take 100 years, until 2115.  Isn't it nice how two-digit years have slid back into common usage as memory of the Y2K panic fades?)

But I noticed something as I was checking through the centuries, and that is that September 1st ??15 will never be a Monday, and it's all because of Pope Gregory.  Moving forward 100 years from 2015 to 2115 moves us back two days in the week, because 100 years = 100 * 365 + 24 leap days (which would be 25 if not for the Gregorian calendar rule where 2100 doesn't get one), or 36524 days total.  36524 days is 5217 weeks plus five extra days, or 5218 weeks minus two days, so the weekday moves back by two (or forward by five, which equivalent in modulo-7 arithmetic).  So the same thing happens going from 2115 to 2215, and 2215 to 2315.  We've now gone back six days.

And then we go from 2315 to 2415.  This time, though we have our full 25 leap days, because of the 400-year rule from the Gregorian calendar, so we only go back one day.  So now we've gone back seven days, or a full week.  If we started on a Tuesday in 2015 (as September 1st will be), we'll go back to Sunday in 2115, Friday in 2215, Wednesday in 2315, and back to Tuesday in 2415.  And 01/Sep/15 will never be on any other days of the week.

The Julian calendar didn't have this problem (problem?  Maybe that's a bit strong; it's really more of a characteristic), because it always had 36525 days per century, and always went back one weekday in the same interval.  So any given date would hit every day of the week for a given two-digit year suffix.

Who is it we have to blame for the seven-day week again?  Babylonians?  Wonder if we'll ever be able to get rid of it...

So I missed the big one, but I may get a second swing at it soon. We'll see.

Honestly this life is pulling me so many directions, I'm at the point where I'm going to say jesus takes the wheel. Each month I'm working about 60% of it, and that's fantastic news. I'm to the point in my career where I can finally start running up the stairs, climbing to bigger jobs and working towards getting on much larger things.

Still, feels empty. or lonely is the better word, and I don't now how to fix that. No one I started with is still racing with me, and that's cool. I understand. And I'm excited to get to this launch point. Just thought I'd have more people to talk to about things, and not wondering where the next run of motivation comes from.

That sounds arrogant doesn't it? I don't mean to. It's the one area in my life I'm feeling vaguely in control of. Which usually means at this point everything will start hurtling out of control.

I need more drives through the starry desert night. I need more mornings on an ocean liner through winter kissed mountains.  I need tea and quiet thoughts. Cat footprints across keyboards.

The Good Husband award goes to Mr. Jack Houser, who spent most of his day today scanning photos of his in-laws for their 50th Anniversary party slideshow (party is in September).  We have miles of photos to go before we sleep.

The Great Husband award goes to Mr. Jack Houser who did the above willingly and with a generous heart, despite losing his own father to cancer this year.

I promised to keep the bubble universe safe. I kept it on my finger. I watched it. I held it by my bedside and my place of bathing. 

Then I accidentally exposed it to Jill's voice. 

Her voice made me weep. I took my eyes off the bubble universe. Their membrane broke. 

The Hatters are free. The Tepid Witch laughs. At me. 

I failed. 

EDITED TO ADD; but after Jill's voice released The Hattervarse, Vince went into the studio to make music. 

this ring ended up on my finger today. I needed a magic ring, and now I have one. The true story involves a curiosity & antique shop, a raven-haired beauty, an odd little side street, and a missing husband dragged away by the siren song of curvaceous beauties.* Other than that, it's a very boring story. I need a better one. 

Tell me the significance of this ring, how I got it, and for what it's meant.  

-------

*Noise Pollution Records, Blue Bond Guitars.  

Ello is pretty dead these days. Like, deader than livejournal. Wow. 

Anyway. What was it that I thought might be blog-worthy, again?

Ah. Now I remember. 

Something about being in your 40s. Warning: this might become a lot of cane-shaking and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.

I guess I started thinking on this because I follow Persephone Magazine and Femsplain in my feedly. Mostly for Unfuck Your Habitat and the occassional dog-related post. I've started skimming the rest, sometimes looking on with an eye of, "oh, sweet summer children, bless your green little hearts." Because most of the posts are by 20-somethings, peppered with a few 30-somethings. And, boy howdy is it obvious.

Don't get me wrong - the stuff that's posted there is pretty intelligent. But man have I outgrown that shit. The introspective self-learning revelations about jealousy, insecurity, dating, etc. Shit what I am too damned old for.

HA! How appropriate that my media player just pulled up an old demo recording of one of my favorite originals:

Maybe, maybe I should compose

Another jilted love song of agony's throes

Maybe, maybe my childhood was a mess

My self esteem was stunted by the things my daddy said

(I really need to properly record that one, and many others. But I'm really kind of proud of that particular song.)

Anyhow. 

I suppose I just realized what a huge difference there is between being in your 40s and being in your 20s. Sure, you're still an "adult," either way. And you're only as old or young as you feel. And whether or not you have kids is another factor, as well. 

But seriously? I couldn't care less about cute shoes. I care about shoes that don't make my knees hurt, and that don't create blisters on my ultra-narrow heels. Dating angst? Crushes? Pah. I care about nurturing my marriage, about not screwing my friendships and relationships up any more than I have in the past, about not falling back on the models of my parents and siblings. I still love romance, but I recognize that long-term love and marriage is a working partnership, not a whirlwind of drama and angst and sparkles and moonlight. Yes, that stuff can be there in the beginning, but when reality sets in, are you still up for the challenge? 

On the flip side, I'm only 42. I still completely lack the proper amount of responsibility I need to even think about 50. Hell, I'm irresponsible as fuck for a 42 year old. Our finances are a wreck, our house is a shambles that we can't afford to repair, and me personally? Oh, man - I'm a self-employed "free spirit" at its worst. Okay, maybe not THAT bad. But my sleep schedule is obscene, and my business system is ridiculously disorganized. The only thing I have going for me is that, at the piano, I have the kind of work ethic that rides on fear of flaw and fear of being discovered as a fraud. (Guess that's one thing I haven't outgrown.) I'm a "perfectionist" because my worst fear in work is an unhappy customer. A bad tuning. An instable tuning. That translates into "work ethic" to some people, I suppose.

I don't really know where this was headed, except that I need to find more age and attitude appropriate blogs/sites for my rss feed. I need liberal, feminist, messy, imperfect, snarky, ranty blogs by people who love Firefly, The Newsroom, Doctor Who, etc.; who fondly remember their 70s/80s childhoods, and not having internet, and discovering and breaking in the internet in the 90s. Parents welcome, too, because man - how the fuck do you deal with raising kids in today's world? That shit terrifies me.

Any recommendations are appreciated! 

Or, hey, my G+ friends could actually, like, ya know - come over here and blog, too. :P