Where Goeth Our Blog?

Now that your world travels blog has run its course, I propose we come back to our old, friendly blog. Or we start a new one. One of the two.

M-Dubya and I went to see the hamsters at PetSmart last night. Of course, it was sad and terrible. But they were so cute! Even those dumb oversized guinea pigs were cute. They were pretending to be little dogs, in my opinion. I'm trying not to reward them for their evil hamster-keeping way, but, oh man, I want to. Bad.

M-D continues his addiction to Lost. He stays up all night watching it. In only a few days, he's run through three seasons. He believes he has undertaken a grand philosophical endeavor. I think he's been watching a TV show. We are not likely to come to agreement.

I was caught eating an apple and brown rice for lunch by Aurora. That was pretty funny, because she started accusing me of anorexia. HAHA! I wish, oh do I wish, that was my problem. "I just can't bring myself to eat enough." I didn't mention that it was merely my first lunch, in a string of what was sure to be many "lunches." I told her about that Post Secrets (or whatever) postcard where the chick confessed she wished she had the willpower of anorexics.

I tried to check out Craig's List discussion forums, but I can't understand them. They're so messy! How did you read those?

What I ate Yesterday!

why not use this one eh?

May 15

Food:
4 Shakes
Bowl of Mercimek
Large salad with ranch dressing -- we're talking giant plate, not salad plate and chicken
two helpings of angel food cake
2 glasses of wine (I know, I know, why bother dieting if you are going to drink wine...but the box was calling my name)

Exercise 45 minutes ellipticals
10 minutes arms


May 16

Exercise
32 Min ellipticals
15 minutes treadmill -- walking at 4.5 with random intervals...it's really hard

"My So-Called Existential Dilemma," Starring Clear Feigns

(Like "My So-Called Life," starring Claire Danes.)

My existential dilemma has come to an end, or at least has gone on the longest hiatus I've ever been through (at least, like, a week now). I've come to accept the non-transcendent world. Sartre helped me. He says you commit to shaping your essence, which is preceded by existence. (So, you exist before you have an essence, as opposed to the other way around, which is posited by most philosophies and religions Except Buddhism, which says you have no essence at all. There are many articles online comparing Existentialism with Buddhism. They are not very impressive articles.) Well, you don't have to commit; you can also just let it happen, but what you can't do is avoid is it happening. So if you don't commit, then you're stuck alienated from yourself and might end up with a shitty essence.

The downside is that accepting the non-transcendent world has made me start looking at clothing magazines and drifting through stores (clothing and non-clothing) and wanting pretty much fucking everything. I'll have to do better than that. I think ridding myself of wanting to buy everything in sight and not eating dead things anymore will be a start. Maybe just not eating dead things... It's a big task to create an essence. I dig it. I mean, I get that this is not a forehead-slapping idea, but he adds such a lovely philosophical glaze of intellect that I feel much better about it.

You know what I forgot I love? The little dessert cubby in TV Dinners. (I'm sad they're called "frozen meals" and shit like that instead of "TV Dinner" now. Can you think of anything they changed terms on like that? Do you approve of the change?) It's always something-cobbler. Some excuse for fruit drenched in sticky, fruity syrup. YUM. I just had peaches in cherry glue. It was delish.

The Eye and the Brow Furrow

My parents were not into public displays. My dad would have simply given me the dead eye and brow furrow and as soon as I knew it, I would have shut up and sat down. There would be no intervention from a nice lady, I would have been dead. I hate bubble gum ice cream. The bubble gum is all hard and not nice and chewy and it is just....ewww... Definitely one of those things that doesn't slow me down at Baskin Robbins. I wish I was as sure of my life choices, as I am of my ice cream choices. I mean take me to the BR counter, and I will quickly get through the choices. Hmmm...show me the brown ice creams, ok, show me the browner ice creams that have fudge in them, ok, now if that didn't narrow it down all the way show me the one with nuts, and voila, my ice cream choice is made.

Last night my nieces were acting the fool. It is interesting watching Kelie go through the older awkward stage. I wonder if it will foster depth or simply resentment. Hopefully depth...I don't want shallow relatives. I had a weird dream about Gayle last night, and it was combined with Lions and Tigers and Cheetahs all wandering around, like they were in a nature preserve...YIKES

Circle-Chase

"I'm whitening my teeth as I write this," she tittered gleefully. I picked up my personalized, tooth-shaped trays this morning at the dentist. They fit perfectly, as if they were made for my very teeth! I'm bleaching them right now. I felt proud when they compared my current tooth-color (for purposes of before-and-after) to a set of yellow-to-really-really-yellow sample teeth. I was at the way low-end of yellow. Does that mean they would have refused me the service if my teeth were just a bit less yellow?

We're getting free Italian lunch today from Filomena's. I hope we are getting raviolis personally made by that old slave lady they keep there... Ugh. Back from lunch. So full-up on sausage lasagna.

HAHA! Jeff came by talking about root beer floats and other junk food. He mentioned how awesome bubble gum ice cream is because it has the real bubble gum pieces in it. It reminded me of one of my favorite stories of my brother that I'd totally forgotten. So he's like 5-years-old, and gets his usual bubble gum ice cream at Baskin Robbins. Well, after examining it closely, he yells, "That motherfucker only gave me three gumballs!" Well my dad gets so awesomely pissed off that he yells, too. "I'm gonna kill you!" And the circle-chase in Baskins Robbins begins, weaving in and out of pink chairs. Some lady, scared that the delightful little boy is about to be pulverized (a distinct possibility), calls the police. I don't know what happens from there, but I bet the policeman then circle-chased my dad around the B&R.

I wish I did cool things like that as a kid.

Oh, Bit, you hairy? (said with Cockney English accent)

That was a nice obituary! I want mine to say:

AFW passed away on ____, __ 20__. She doesn't care how you remember her because... she's dead! Her husband, General/Chaplain M.S.W., states she was a happy little elf and she never grew taller than 5'0". Her best friend in the world, AK, recounts how she took naps everywhere. [See pictures below.] Her daughter Lilly, who is pale with long, dark hair, grew up happier and stronger than AFW. Her son, Leo Israel, who has lots of curly, light brown hair, is sweet and pure and looks after people. She says to tell you all that she finally figured out the meaning of her life, but can't share that with you at the moment. Her world champion yo-yo skills and far-from-best-selling novel were her proudest accomplishments. That, and suing the GOP for... one billion dollars!

I think it would make me happy if you chewed a finger off! Then I can think, as I pick my nose, "Not everyone is so lucky." And I'll sigh with happiness.

by the way...

The whole time I've known you, I have wanted fairy tale land for you too, but the problem has been, I don't know what your fairy tale is....so often I want to ask you if you are happy, b/c I don't know...I don't know what it is that makes you happy, and what it is that makes you unhappy...I get the most scared when I can't tell. B/c I would chew off one of my fingers, to make you happy...only I'm afraid after I did, you would say...the only thing that made me happy was that I had nicer fingers than Alex did, and now Alex doesn't have any fingers, so I can't be happy. But if you ever have an idea, and you want a push in some direction...just tell me the direction and I will do all that I can.

I feel a little sick

Well first off, let me apologize for being six blogs or so behind...it's a tough life mine...making playdough, getting up at 10...you know. But anyway...i have been thinking alot about you this week. I don't think its wrong to take the middle, especially if you don't see tons of net value...in fact it would be counterproductive to live in a fashion that didn't promise any better results, particularly if you reached the best possible outcome and still didn't like the results. As for me, I have the mentality that says there is something, something big that you have to achieve, or you aren't worth much of anything. And you have to do that while juggling all your thoughts and your family and everything else. But I don't know what the hell it is (google or no google) -- and today I saw that associate had died, riding motorcycles for the first time. And I read her obit and I thought that is so very sad to me. Her obit was just a few words, and I wonder if she thought about herself that she would like what they said, or if she would think, I am so much more, or I am not that at all...so what would I want my blog to say.

Alex King

Died on __, __, 20XX. Ms. King is survived by two children, and her loving husband, five grandchildren, her siblings, and her best friend annie. Ms. King was known for her work with children and was instrumental in changing laws effecting most of our nations children. In her earlier years, Ms. King worked tirelessly, while raising two well-behaved, mentally fulfilled, happy children, and she loved her husband in the best way she could -- as he needed to be loved.


Ms. King changed jobs six times in the past sixty years, and each time, she was noted for her excellent work, and contribution to mankind. Despite working so much, she made sure to visit her parents, who after much therapy and schooling, became happier, individuals. Her nieces and nephews, often spent summers with Alex and Andrew and later said that this was some of the happiest time of their lives.

All in all, Ms. King left no stones unturned, she loved well, and she was loved well. She will be missed.

magic-happy-fairy-rainbows

I keep thinking about how you said my risk-taking involves selling out potentially high payoffs (or really low payoffs) for middle payoffs. (I stick by claim that this is the exact opposite of taking risks, BTW.) So I'm left in the middle, not too unhappy and not too happy. I think that's exactly right.

I don't know how to feel about it, though. I told The Rapist about it, and she was basically like, "And what's wrong with that? What's wrong with giving up heroine for food and exercise?" And I was like, "No, it's more like giving up an internet start-up dream for a government job." I don't remember that the conversation went anywhere productive from there.

The thing is, I don't know if I respect people who take big risks. Most big risks fail and they're usually not for a good purpose -- for huge money, or fame, or for some other undefinable thing that will make it all right. I don't think they ever find what they're looking for. They will likely fail, but even if they wildly succeed, they still will wonder why it isn't enough. On the other hand, I respect that their brave enough to give failing a shot and I condemn myself for being a fetal-positioned wuss.

So, yeah, I feel empty, and maybe it's because I'm always taking the safe ground. But who doesn't feel empty in at least some respects? I think people who don't feel that way are rare and it has very little to do with what they have, what they've achieved, etc. I think they just have the ability to be satisfied. But I guess I don't really respect that, either. Why should they be satisfied? It seems sort of docile and stupid, since the truth is that, well, life is not that satisfying. But, then, of course, I think at myself, "You whiny little shit, you have just about the best life a human could have in history -- constant food, money, safety, and leisure. What the fuck do you want?" And what answer do I have? There's nothing I can name that I want. Which makes me feel like a child on summer vacation who whines about being bored. Kids spend all year looking forward to summer, so of course they're bummed out when it's not magic-happy-fairy-rainbows the whole summer. And we spend our whole lives looking forward to food, money, safety, and leisure, so of course we're bummed out when it's not magic-happy-fairy-rainbows.

SQrL, I'm bummed it's not magic-happy-fairy-rainbows. Really, really bummed.

E-motions, Schmee-motions

Do you think you can change your emotional makeup after your formative years? I picture that you form your emotional makeup in adolescence, and, after that, you can change it, but only through intense therapy, hard work, and delusion. But The Rapist thinks I've shut off access to all my emotions. And I think that can't be right because when I was an adolescent I was always yelling with anger at my family, crying and gnashing teeth alone, chasing some boy with the emotional fervor of a rabid bunny. Basically, an emotional wreck.

So the only time I can imagine this happening was between John and Mason. I went pretty train wreck after that A-Rab, and went slightly train wreck after breaking up with the Tennis Boy Wonder. But both of those were about a million miles from the intensity of the John-Hiroshima. But all that was already when I was incapable of being angry, which has been at least since law school began. So maybe Mason was my out from the drama of boys, and anger was already gone, so that leaves anxiety. I'm still pretty good at anxiety, but, you know, if I handled my finances and work better, I could get rid of that, too. And then I would be like Mr. Spock... And all this way after adolescense! An adult victory!

So her point is that progress is not to be had unless I feel and deal with all these underground emotions. I'm just not sure I like this. How many times has almost every person wished they could just offload their emotions and be free of them. And The Rapist is saying I'm a high-achiever on that front. Is it smart to give up a talent? And lack of emotion is probably highly adaptive in our current world. The Rapist claims the opposite; that emotions are needed in order to function effectively. I dunno about that.

You and Internet Will Conquer All

Who's job is it to show you the proper path? It's the internet's job, silly. Your job is simply to use the right search terms and all will unfold. Ta-da! Thank you, Al Gore!!

Well, my spiffy new book says that we suck at predicting what will make us happy, and, in fact, falsely remember what made us happy in the past. So really I guess you gotta just try shit out. And I realize there's the problem of "mortality," and that trying careers out takes time, but, well... yeah. Since we can't seem to predict anything that will make us happy, I guess we're free of the false-prediction burden. Shew, that's a lifted weight.

You know what I love lately? Diet root beer and butter. I mean, not together. But lately I'm obsessed with butter, and find diet root beer an uplifting change from Diet Coke. I'm totally barfed-out on Diet Coke. The thought of it makes me feel all acidy. As for butter, I want it on everything... mmmm.... chocolate-covered butter stick... oh wait, that's cake.

Tertl Head made me try putting salt water through one nostril and out the other in order to get rid of allergies. I don't know abou it actually working, but I think it's funny that you can put liquid in one nostril and have it come out the other. Weird.

What the hell Trtl???

You know there are so many famous historical quotes by people that ask deep questions, and we give the writers credit for being soooo smart...but what if they weren't smart at all...what if they just had tons of questions and no answers...

I signed my middle niece up with an email address today and it is fascinating unfolding a world for someone that they had no idea existed. Where is my world unfolder? Who is the person who is supposed to be showing me the way? Is it God? Because if it is, I better be a lot nicer than I have been. Is it me? Cause I don't know where to look and let's face it, I am incredibly lazy. Is it my parents? Cause I don't think they have a whole lot more to offer in the way of insight on this particular subject, other than instilling a fear in me of what will happen if I don't find something I like to do, namely...I'll be doing what I don't like to do for the next sixty years. Andrew has been great at showing me what I want to aspire to, but I think it came naturally to him and I don't have that situation either...so where does that leave me? Well I can tell you, it leaves me neither happy here nor where I will be happy...

Have ordered book. Soon will be happy.

This alleged book that I ordered is from this Harvard professor who says that our ability to make ourselves happy is sucky because we aren't good at predicting what will make us happy. But it does make us happy to predict what will make us happy because we like to feel in control and to daydream. I'm sitting here thinking about when that book arrives and how happy it will make me.

Beauty Leads to Lead in Your Leg

Hitler was a moron. Ever read Mein Kampf? (Me neither, but a hear it's a rambling piece of crap.) I'm surprised it said anti-social in the definition, though, because lots of sociopaths are very social. They may be anti-social deep down, since they only act very friendly for their own purposes. In fact, I was talking to The Rapist today and I said a certain someone in my family is a sociopath, but has lots of friends, which seems weird to me, and The Rapist said that sociopaths often draw lots of people in.

I haven't watched a beauty pageant in a long time. The last one I watched led to lead in my leg, when my brother stabbed me with a pencil. I still have the graphite spot on my leg. But, from the few glimpses I catch of those pageants and their winners, I gather that they are never very appealing in the Hollywood way. What I mean is that they are very statuesque and classical looking, with defined features and such, but are not, well, cute in any way. Kind of like Elizabeth Hurley -- beatiful but unappealing. And I realize that Hurley is very much Hollywood, but I think she's unique to Hollywood in that way. Most actresses are not only beautiful, but have a cute I'm-likeable look, even if they're not really (e.g., Lohan). Angelina Jolie might be like Hurley and the beauty pageant girls if it weren't for those outrageous cutifying lips. I definitely would rather be cute-beautiful than statuesque-beatiful. Like, it would be way cooler to be Reese Witherspoon than Elizabeth Hurley.

Eek! How long will you be in New Mexico? What if there are SQrL predators? OMG! This is terrible! I saw you called last night, but it was at 10:45 and I was way asleep and miserable -- I banished myself to the guest bedroom, knowing I would cough all night. I'm not just coughing now, but actually, seriously ill. Stuffed nose, phlegm cough, sore throat, achy, cold and hot spells. Terrible stuff. I blame it on the boy who wailed all the way from Wales to Washington. He was in the row in front of me. I hated him and his mother. It was unfair to hate them, but it was fairer than suffering without someone to blame.

I apparently suffer from a lack of action. I discovered this through my story-writing and it was confirmed by The Rapist. Must take action... after nappy-time...

whew...I thought you were talking about me...

I read the title of your last blog and thought you were talking about me....well I am not sure I know the word sociopath means...let me pause and look it up...
a person, as a psychopathic personality, whose behavior is antisocial and who lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience.
ok, then...yes, I think there have been tons of sociopaths who have been very intelligent. Of course, I probably won't have tons of examples, but lets start with Hitler, and kings of course...while not all of them were brilliant there surely were some, right? One problem with the question, is that definitionally, the term "antisocial" and "moral responsibility" are both very subjective. It seems that you have to judge people by the moral standard of their times, that rules out kings as sociopath, but totally includes hitler....

Ok, I watched the Miss America 2007 (cause I wanted to feel better about my physique) -- also I never got to watch it as a kid. Word to the wise...forget those girlie pics you have on the wall and jump on the Miss America bandwagon. Once you see those ridiculously tall girls, you'll never eat piggly wiggly ice cream again. But anyway, I was disappointed, they were like Ming vases...pretty on the outside, but basically empty on the inside. (Ok, I don't actually like Ming Vases, but you get my point.) Once they had to talk about anything...their presentation skills were straight out of the sixth grade. I mean just not good...I wondered if all the people they had cut were really as vapid as the winners. (Caveat...two of the top five were ok..but these girls make their living through presentation...) Anyway, I did like the person who won, but I think it might have been the dimples, I need to think on it.

Ok, last subject...Diet Coke Plus...my diet is now perfectly formed. I get vitamins and minerals from cereal and ... ta da!! vitamins and minerals from diet coke. I scoff at those of you who eat non-prepared foods and put all that work into it. This is far more efficient and lovely to tell the truth.

Ok, little jet setter...I am off to New Mexico tonight. I will call you manana before we get there, but mis padres don't have a phone, so conversation will be sketchy after that point.

Angry Retard or Brilliant Sociopath?

I read this totally awesome book "We Need to Talk About Kevin" that I picked up during my jet-setting trip to London. It's about a kid who commits a high school massacre. It's told from the perspective of his mom, who's recalling his life from birth forward to the massacre. She always thinks he's evil, pretty much right from birth, but the father keeps believing that she's imagining it. It's awesome because you wonder the whole time if she is, in fact, imagining most of it. It was way enthralling until probably the last few pages. I won't say what was wrong with those last few pages, because I'm hoping the little SQrL will read it.

What was most unbelievable (and there was a lot that was not really believable) in the book was that he was, like, this total genius. I haven't studied high school massacre-ers much, but from the little I read about those Columbine dudes, they were stupid as buckets of shit. Obsessed with stupid video games and violence like most idiot boys, but with some added-in self-pity and sociopathology. And that Virginia Tech guy, good lord, a serious moron. Those plays he wrote and that video he made... completely idiotic. Do you think murderers are ever all that smart? I mean, if they were, I think it's really likely they would use their cruelty in more creative, less culpable ways. Like, you know, go run Enron or some shit, and laugh at people losing pensions.

I think that violent people are almost always morons. What do you think? I can't think of one example of a brilliant sociopath, except in movies. Movies love that shit -- Hannibal Lecter, etc. In real life, they're just angry retards. What do you think?

NEVER LEAVE AGAIN!!

My turtle lies over the ocean my turtle lies over the sea....my turtle flew over the ocean, so bring back my turtle to me. Hello turtle....I'm up at the university watching Gross Point Blank...there are a lot of movies about people going back to high school and people being awful, in the reunion. I wonder why it was awful? I wonder if it is kind of what we were talking about before...maybe they had ideas of what their life would be, or else ideas of coming up with an idea of what they could be? Hmmm...it is interesting...well on a happy note, I'm off to visit my odd parents -- odd in the most loveable way possible this week. I am glad that my turtle is back, I missed her a lot!!!!!!!!!

I see'd it and saw'd It. It wasn't that good-looking.

It's true! I won't ever jump off the see-saw. Your tailbone is safe. BTW, don't think it slipped by me that you just, even if momentarily, condemned me to SIX kids! Not cool, SqRl, not cool.

See-Saws

I'm reading this book, and it was talking about see-saws and it made me remember how much it hurts when someone gets off the other end. As long as it is the two of you just going up and down, each controlling the descent and ascent with your legs, then you can handle it. But if one person pushes up to hard, and you come smacking into the ground, there's that laughing pain, which penetrates from the core of you up to your teeth which are likely clamped together and the ringing in your ears soon follows. And it makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time. Not because there's anything funny...just because that's what you do.
Relationships are like that...just this finely balanced see-saw. Sometimes you can go fast, and sometimes you can go slow, but if you have ever hit bottom, it makes you definitely want to slow down a little and brace yourself even more.
It made me happy TrTl--I saw your last blog and your areas of everyday improvement & I finished reading the book best friends, and I was tooling around my apartment and it hit me...it doesn't matter you know? it doesn't matter what happens in our lives..so TrtlHead (that's what I call Rabbi to be) becomes a rabbi and you have six kids....and maybe i become a statistic of a failed business or whatever, I kill someone, it doesn't matter...we've passed some hurdle..we have forever, in a way that only our kids will have from us. I just had this realization...men and relationships, they can fail you..who knows...the truth is no one does. The fact of whether a relationship will last that can't be determined with any accuracy...but us, we will be friends no matter what...It seems we've passed the point that we were trying to reach the bottom. You know when you are little, you just want to get to the bottom of the pool, so you struggle against gravity and buoyancy and reach for the bottom, and your lungs hurt, and your ears hurt, and then when you get there, you push up to escape it as fast as possible, to reach the air above the water, and you don't have the energy you had on the way down, but you have triumph and your legs to propel you where you want to go. And you will reach the top of the water...or at least you always have....that's where we are...we aren't trying to reach the bottom...in our friendship we've started rising...you know? The fear of what would be, or whether something would break it...its gone. I mean some of the intensity is gone too...and it's ok. Its a little more relaxing that way. I think I would take solidity for excitement.

Trophy Cup Full of Nirvana for Sale: $12.99 or Best Offer

You should know I get very jealous of your brave adventures, such as making tikka masalah. (BTW, I laughed out loud at you not making your own Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It made me think, "I bet she will try it some day.") I make fun of it because I'm too lazy-scared to do stuff like that myself. And I'm definitely too lazy-scared to confront the "extraordinary" dilemma head-on, as you've done. Actions are a lot more impressive than blog-words.

I feel it, too. All. The. Time. I want my life to be extraordinary, and I don't know what to do about it. I mean, I don't even believe in extraordinary lives. I think that, yeah, it's amazing to lead the free world or star in blockbuster movies and have photographers track your every move. (I say this as though I could just choose those things, given the inclination. Like I'm sitting here chewing on my nails and contemplating whether I should become a rock star, but decide to take a nap instead.) Yeah, it's amazing, but it's still not meaningful in that transcendent, I-found-the-truth kind of way. That's what I want. I want transcendent meaning, unassailable truth, and I want it to be mine, mine, mine. What kind of arrogant piece of shit comes up with that as what they want in life? A self-defeating arrogant piece of shit, I suppose, cuz it ain't gonna happen. Smarter, better, more educated people, with more time on their hands, have tried to find transcendent truths, and so far I haven't seen their pictures in the paper holding up a trophy cup full of money and nirvana.

So... I'm with ya. Too bad I ain't gots no solutions. I find I can barely do anything new or even contemplate it for the knowledge that I will never reach this goal. How's that for middle-class, adolescent angst? I hate being pathetic and maladjusted. Adjusted people set reasonable goals and attain them. We did that once, right? I mean, you and I attained a goal that most people don't even consider a realistic thought. And what does it mean to us at this point? Slim to nuttin. That's the real rub, knowing that it won't satisfy once you have it. SqRL Nut (that's my blog name for Balloon Head; you can call him whatever you like) can make you into a movie star some day, but will your life feel different? Maybe... keep me updated. My bet's on: at first, yes, then... not so much.

Do we fight the fight anyway? You wanna make up a barely-attainable goal and then get it? They say the satisfaction is not in the result but in the journey to get there. Sometimes I believe them. (Usually only until I remember staying up all night to write papers I didn't care about, and the awesome feeling of the grade/result.) But maybe we gotta make one up anyway to get through this life with more happiness and resolute?

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "If I knew what goal to set, 90% of my problems would be solved, putz." (Yeah, I know you wouldn't think "putz.") The loss of youth, eh? It was so obvious to me that achievement would be high school, college, law school, lawyer job. Here I is, lawyer job. Make me happy! (Lawyer Job says, "Heh? Um sleepin! Lemme alone!") Alright, so, what's the obvious next step? Well, options:

1. Congeal Meaning: Write out what it's all meant so far. Script form might help SqRL Nut out some day.
2. Move on to a Totally New Front: Start a new career, business, outrageous hobby. Ignore your mind and become a fitness model. You, my Brave New SqRL, have thrown yourself into this. You can always go back ("Hello, Lawyer Job! Did you miss me?" "Umm sleepin!"), but you shouldn't.
3. Start a Family: Define yourself through children, and make them happier, more adjusted people than us. Or make your life about backing up your spouse. It's worked for some, or so I've heard, and tend to believe it. So you could try this route for Brave New SqRL.
4. Fix Other People: Forget it. No, really... stop. That's Same Old SqRL, not Brave New SqRL. Unless you want to fix me, which is a fab idea, and which on many fronts you've achieved over our glorious 5.5 years. I still think that THIS could be your glorious new career. Life Fixer-Upper.

What other options do we have? I want more items on the list.

As for fixing people... I think you should go with the sad-euphoric feeling just for a while. See what it's like. I bet your family will keep doing what it would do with or without your suggestions. And when you come back into action, they might be surprised enough to do the shit you tell them to do. Control-vacation. :)