First Update from Home in Ages
I am halfway through my workout. I am sweaty and stinky and growing cold. I of course heat up while on the bike, but my break has prolonged itself (or rather, I prolonged it) to the point that I my wet tank top now chills me, and I could use a jacket or something. Not that the house is all that cold, but I fear my metabolism is just naturally putt-putt-puttertastic, and refuses to outstrip a snail when I happen to be at a "resting" state. I used to be cold all the time, but exercise has definitely helped with that. It's just that I don't generally wear much when I exercise, so when I break, I start to cool down.
But that's pretty boring, so I'll blather on about something else. Like how it bizarrely started pouring earlier today while I drove home from baby-sitting. I turned off Veach and greeted two large drops of water on my windshield before the crazy torrent hit. Literally, it was drop...drop...TORRENTIAL FREAK OF NATURE HERE TO WHOOP YOUR ASS!!! I felt awful for the people I saw on the rest of my drive home, people caught outside without any protection, thinking they had some time before the unexpected scene change. An old man caught on his bicycle on his way back from or to an errand, a young boy pumping his legs on his own bike in an effort to hurry home to shelter, some guy hanging out on his front lawn...in fact, they were all guys. Perhaps girls had the common sense to go inside. Or they weren't out there in the first place because it was hella hot, and they didn't want to sweat off their make-up or something.
I saw the film Waitress with my parents last night. Only one preview, which was balls, but the film itself was good. However, if it were to adopt a subtitle, that subtitle would have to be along the lines of "F*** All Men." It did not present any of its male characters in a very positive light. It offered some of their good traits, and not all of the males evoked a strong sense of dislike, but overall, the film presented a series of males who, in one way or another, boss women around. And yeah, the women shouldn't take it, and that's part of what the main character (Keri Russell) has to learn, and the audience doesn't even dislike her in her moments of weakness, for she is a good person and deserves our sympathy, even though she doesn't want it, and would never expect anyone else to feel bad for her situation. But for me it was tedious not to have a male character I could whole-heartedly like. Even the protagonist males were jerks, the film just didn't portray the jerky parts of their lives to the extent that those guys would become antagonistic. Keri Russell's character has a relationship with her new OB-GYN doctor, who genuinely cares about her and wants to make her happy...but he is a married man, and we meet his wife toward the end of the film, and she's a lovely woman, a woman who would never expect her husband's infidelity and certainly does not deserve it (not that cuckolded women do, but sometimes the cheating partner's actions are understandable, if not condonable, which I'm not sure is a word, but whatever--whatever the circumstances, his actions were not to be condoned by the audience, and in the end, Keri Russell's character does not condone them either).
It is challenging to like a person who can be so hurtful to someone, even if they are perfectly wonderful to another. But that is how we all are, I suppose. I guess the determining factor of one's goodness or decency depends on the ratio of those we treat well to those we treat poorly. I say ratio because it is simply not acceptable to say just treat more people well than poorly because that could mean one treats 51% of his/her acquaintances as caring human beings and the remaining 49% like unfeeling, wretched dogs. I think good people treat the majority of the people they know well, and the other people, for one reason or another, they do not get along with and do not wish to make any strong efforts to do so. Before, I strove to make things work with every person I met, and I felt inadequate and insecure when things did not go as planned, when I did not please the other person enough to reciprocate affections/niceties. But to word it that way reveals that I am not truly passed that point yet. I can say it differently to hide this (say something like "I felt inadequate and insecure when others did not respond to my efforts" instead of expressing my failure to do something), but that would be implying a level of maturity I have not yet reached.
It frustrates and confuses me when others do not seem to care enough. I invest in people differently than others choose to invest, I think. I might not spend tons of time with others, because that is not my preference or nature, but I think about people when I am not with them, about how I can do something for them to bring a smile to their faces, wonder about their eccentricities and how and why those developed, imagine how our friendship will progress and become deeper and more meaningful, etc. I might be out of sight, but that does not mean my friends and family are out of my mind or my heart. Much of me is very generous, but at this point my selfishness overrules me (or rather, I allow it to do so), and I devote most of my time not so much to myself, but to being rather mindless. I am intense in what I do, whatever it may be, because that intensity allows me to scoff nagging insecurities and doubts about myself at present and myself in the future. My routine is a source of comfort in many ways, one being that I can lose myself in it and forget that a world actually exists. The internet homepage's news articles report the death of a pregnant woman, but I can click away and change sites fast enough to avoid seeing her picture, to avoid reading where she lived or where or how she was found. The computer enables me to do so, but first I enable myself to do so. I will myself to do so. I want to shirk all others' miseries from my awareness because I have worries in my own life, and it seems unnecessary to take on those of others as well. But I do sometimes anyway.
I've lost my train of thought, if I had one to begin with. I suppose I am in a pensive sort of mood. I haven't used that icon yet, but I don't think it looks very different from any of the others. But I love the ferret picture, and that represents me pretty well, I think, so so be it.
Now to go lose myself in some sudoku.
Oh, and the Pensive Ferret has glasses. Wow.
But that's pretty boring, so I'll blather on about something else. Like how it bizarrely started pouring earlier today while I drove home from baby-sitting. I turned off Veach and greeted two large drops of water on my windshield before the crazy torrent hit. Literally, it was drop...drop...TORRENTIAL FREAK OF NATURE HERE TO WHOOP YOUR ASS!!! I felt awful for the people I saw on the rest of my drive home, people caught outside without any protection, thinking they had some time before the unexpected scene change. An old man caught on his bicycle on his way back from or to an errand, a young boy pumping his legs on his own bike in an effort to hurry home to shelter, some guy hanging out on his front lawn...in fact, they were all guys. Perhaps girls had the common sense to go inside. Or they weren't out there in the first place because it was hella hot, and they didn't want to sweat off their make-up or something.
I saw the film Waitress with my parents last night. Only one preview, which was balls, but the film itself was good. However, if it were to adopt a subtitle, that subtitle would have to be along the lines of "F*** All Men." It did not present any of its male characters in a very positive light. It offered some of their good traits, and not all of the males evoked a strong sense of dislike, but overall, the film presented a series of males who, in one way or another, boss women around. And yeah, the women shouldn't take it, and that's part of what the main character (Keri Russell) has to learn, and the audience doesn't even dislike her in her moments of weakness, for she is a good person and deserves our sympathy, even though she doesn't want it, and would never expect anyone else to feel bad for her situation. But for me it was tedious not to have a male character I could whole-heartedly like. Even the protagonist males were jerks, the film just didn't portray the jerky parts of their lives to the extent that those guys would become antagonistic. Keri Russell's character has a relationship with her new OB-GYN doctor, who genuinely cares about her and wants to make her happy...but he is a married man, and we meet his wife toward the end of the film, and she's a lovely woman, a woman who would never expect her husband's infidelity and certainly does not deserve it (not that cuckolded women do, but sometimes the cheating partner's actions are understandable, if not condonable, which I'm not sure is a word, but whatever--whatever the circumstances, his actions were not to be condoned by the audience, and in the end, Keri Russell's character does not condone them either).
It is challenging to like a person who can be so hurtful to someone, even if they are perfectly wonderful to another. But that is how we all are, I suppose. I guess the determining factor of one's goodness or decency depends on the ratio of those we treat well to those we treat poorly. I say ratio because it is simply not acceptable to say just treat more people well than poorly because that could mean one treats 51% of his/her acquaintances as caring human beings and the remaining 49% like unfeeling, wretched dogs. I think good people treat the majority of the people they know well, and the other people, for one reason or another, they do not get along with and do not wish to make any strong efforts to do so. Before, I strove to make things work with every person I met, and I felt inadequate and insecure when things did not go as planned, when I did not please the other person enough to reciprocate affections/niceties. But to word it that way reveals that I am not truly passed that point yet. I can say it differently to hide this (say something like "I felt inadequate and insecure when others did not respond to my efforts" instead of expressing my failure to do something), but that would be implying a level of maturity I have not yet reached.
It frustrates and confuses me when others do not seem to care enough. I invest in people differently than others choose to invest, I think. I might not spend tons of time with others, because that is not my preference or nature, but I think about people when I am not with them, about how I can do something for them to bring a smile to their faces, wonder about their eccentricities and how and why those developed, imagine how our friendship will progress and become deeper and more meaningful, etc. I might be out of sight, but that does not mean my friends and family are out of my mind or my heart. Much of me is very generous, but at this point my selfishness overrules me (or rather, I allow it to do so), and I devote most of my time not so much to myself, but to being rather mindless. I am intense in what I do, whatever it may be, because that intensity allows me to scoff nagging insecurities and doubts about myself at present and myself in the future. My routine is a source of comfort in many ways, one being that I can lose myself in it and forget that a world actually exists. The internet homepage's news articles report the death of a pregnant woman, but I can click away and change sites fast enough to avoid seeing her picture, to avoid reading where she lived or where or how she was found. The computer enables me to do so, but first I enable myself to do so. I will myself to do so. I want to shirk all others' miseries from my awareness because I have worries in my own life, and it seems unnecessary to take on those of others as well. But I do sometimes anyway.
I've lost my train of thought, if I had one to begin with. I suppose I am in a pensive sort of mood. I haven't used that icon yet, but I don't think it looks very different from any of the others. But I love the ferret picture, and that represents me pretty well, I think, so so be it.
Now to go lose myself in some sudoku.
Oh, and the Pensive Ferret has glasses. Wow.