google, bloodlines, and the sixth rock from the sun

  Isn’t it amusing how “google” suddenly became a verb? Before the search engine ever gained popularity, I’ve encountered googol in a ‘98 Kids Almanac when I was in elementary. googol n.   The number 10 raised to the power 100 (10100), written out as the numeral 1 followed by 100 zeros.

If you search for “google” online it will give you: google noun 1.  a widely used search engine that uses text-matching techniques to find web pages that are important and relevant to a user’s search  verb 1.  search the internet (for information) using the Google search engine;
Etymology:   trademark Google

Whereas, in printed lexicons, Google may not be there. I believe Google is derived from googol by virtue of the search results it returned –numerous webpages upon webpages.

That being said, I’d like to tell you how I slipped into a getting-back-to-my-roots mood at three in the morning (procrastinating at work).

By some queer impulse, I googled up my great grandfather: Saturnino Benito, and found a discourse between the blogger & a reader who, apparently, has Saturn as a maternal great-grampa as well. So of course, what was left but for me to step in, right? I just had to leave a comment there.

wanted: bipolar househusband not under 30

     With my pheromonal magnetism to either Hugh Laurie or William Petersen…throw in Gary Sinise & Alfred Yuson, I think the propensities are high that I’d be involved with men much older than myself. Not that I’am attracted to any at the moment, no one within my patch of earth fits the equation of older, formidable, either legally separated, widowed or single, loves literature, speaks well, and has practical know-how on daily domesticities. This is why no one dares courtship, or even profession of admiration (not even merefly flirting with me for an ungodly agenda) because I am perceived as the boring type. Fact is, I’m boring only because I have not found someone whose brainwaves have the same crest and fall and cadence as mine to disprove my being a walking ennui.

  
  
    
I always say, either in defense or self-convincedness, that I’m not in a hurry to have a boyfriend; but the paradox at work here is that I’m not getting any younger and I’ve been thinking I want a life companion now, BUT I’m also afraid that my previous mistakes might resurface with the new relationship. And here, I’d end up hurting the person, which means, hurting myself. If I know this to be true, do I go on ahead and risk that? Why am I even asking this when the question CANNOT be raised on account of I don’t have anyone? Jeez, I’m such a shithead.