synthaetic synapse

December 1, 2008. I am 42 years old. I was supposed to be born on or around this day, 42 years past: what would have been my mother’s 18th birthday. Instead, I was born on November 2. The often-ironic mix of “early and unprepared” has defined me all my life.

Thanksgiving, that all-important, and importantly misconstrued of American holidays, has just passed. One of my brothers-in-law managed not to make it, so I managed not to go out hunting with my other brother-in-law and father-in-law this year. That’s the first time in several years. The Thanksgiving hunts have been a source, over time, of some of my nature photography: the prairie scenes, the pheasants. But I thought it fitting on several levels not to have gone out and shot this year. The absence of Brian from the holiday, plus the fact that I have pulled out of full-time photography in favor of full-time employment as a software quality assurance manager, seemed rather fittingly portrayed by the transportation of a large array of camera equipment that never left the bags and the accompanying feeling of guilt for not having got any work done for the “real” job.

Because I took the holiday and slept. A lot. And read. A book. A big book. About nothing real. With a lot of words and no pictures.

But, I digress. We have our talents….

For some, inexplicable reason, despite having literally a ton of other things today, I am smitten by the nostalgia bug. I have listened to Delerium all day: One of those groups whose music has been foundational to my existence for a couple of decades, and there are many thoughts, many moments, many impulses, that are tied to my relationship with their music: mundane things, mostly; things which range from mowing the lawn at our old house outside of Sioux Falls, to an overnight cold-camping trip I took in the Guadalupe Mountains during a series of thunderstorms back in the early 1990s.

So, being caught up in nostalgia-syndrome, and having experienced it enough in this incarnation to know that fighting it simply prolongs the distraction, I touched base with a few old photographs today. Quickly, though, because I still have some weddings to finish up and a lot of software testing to do for my employer, atop teaching and taking TaeKwonDo classes here in a couple of hours. It’ll be a late night.

Peace.

Oh, I guess I’m back, by the way. I’ve missed you.

And….happy birthday, Mom!

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and then, sometimes it dawnnes on you ~

the name Dawnne came about a long time ago, back when i was at the Presidio of Monterey at the Russian Language School. i coined it as a cognitive antonym to “dawn”.

of course, a simple google will readily show that there are no unique thoughts, and that several people named Dawnne are older than i.

yeah okay, and they all seem to be female. shut up.

before The Elder and Unknown was born, her mother and i made a list of names. (The Elder and Unknown) Rochelle Dawnne, a combination of names i selected, won out. when i met my natural parents in that same year and changed my name, “Dawnne” became a literal attachment to The Elder and Unknown, who was born a month after my change of name.

when The Elder and Unknown was four, i was asked to give up my rights to her so that her step-father could adopt her and place her on his insurance. as i’ve already noted here, that seemed to be the best thing i could do for her, so i did. when he adopted her, however, “Dawnne” was dropped from her name.

but that attachment, which was always subjectively tangential in its own way, was never broken.

she hasn’t chosen to respond to mom’s last communication for several days. since she corresponds via her computer at work, that could be for any number of reasons, so we’re not reading anything into it.

irony of ironies, the Spouse-Unit has a conference in San Antonio next week. i will be going with her, as we’ve never had the chance for me to show her around my old stomping grounds. it won’t be like going home, though, considering all that happened in what seems like so long ago. i wasn’t Dawnne back then. and heck, Six Flags, Sea World, and the huge Mercado that used to be just a quiet Riverwalk weren’t even built until after i had moved away.

it’ll be another excercise in tempered impatience, i suppose. i have interesting karma. i’m still undecided as to whether or not i should be looking forward to the next lifetime….

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