Today I wandered into the Borders half a block from work, which is a fairly standard pre-lunch ritual for me. I had the second half of the gift card my brother gave me for X-mass in my pocket, my email 25% coupon from Borders, and $1.81 left in Holiday Credit from Borders which is a reward for spending money there over the last year (They have a LOT of marketing gimmicks.)
I meandered over to the Philosophy section and what should be propped up on the shelf at eye level and staring at me but The Undead and Philosophy: Chicken Soup for the Soulless
This is the latest in a serious of fortunate events and coincidences that have been pointing me down the undead path over the last few months. In the program I am in for dealing with my compulsive over eating issues, writing is emphasized as an essential tool for uncovering the stuff we addictive types cover up with our addiction practices. It is ironic that I, a long time dreamer of becoming a writer who was always too scared to try, should become involved in such a program. That provided the first steps in my exploring the possibility of making my dream a reality. However, I have had difficulty doing actual program writing. Instead I got more, and more, into fiction writing. Last year I made my second attempt at NaNoWriMo and succeeded in completing 50,000 words of a fiction novel in one month. I put aside an idea I was working on concerning a nice guy vampire and gothic chick, and a zombie priest story, to write a wild tale about a guy secretly working for special zombie hunting teams attached to the CDC. The irony hit me one night when I realized that my subconscious had been tricking me into doing program writing when I thought I was not. I mean, what better fictional metaphor for the somnambulistic state achieved by indulging in a food addiction than zombies!
Then, for X-mass, my company gave us hoodies that say ‘I’d rather be killing zombies’ across the back.
Then, I get the book today.
The universe seems to be pointing me along a path of understanding my condition, and living my dream of being a fiction writer, and learning philosophy all at the same time.
I am tickled pink.
This popped up on the front page MySpace rotating add this morning. It stopped and made me go, hmmmm. If love is on the rise, why are there more singles? And, if the site is so effective in getting couples together, why aren’t the numbers going down? I mean, obviously the title is a reference to the young lady’s skirt being on the rise, and therefore is a further bullet in the mind war of equating sex with love, but really, do they even think these things through?
over the weekend while at 
