(no subject)
if my mind had a GO corner things would be easier. i have these breaks, the hiatus i take from my writing and i always regret it. its much like an internal to external (transition, that is from my mind to the page) game of monopoly. i start off, pass the ghettos, make my rounds, and sooner or later i land on new york, marvin gardens, and park place, and refelexivly buy property. i've struck gold. i win. and i put the game away. lately i've been remembering how much fun it was to play that game that no one has admittedly finished.
i find most sitcoms on tv mediocre at best. this is because i have grown up in the age of sitcom, and am now forced to sit through a rehashed plot i have already seen on Full House, Parker Lewis Can't Lose, Malcom in the Middle, Frasier, and twice on Friends (possibly the most overrated show to ever hit the airwaves). now, i am not one to openly laugh out loud even while watching my favorite comedians in their one-man spotlight, but i have a severe lack of respect, tolerance and patience for those that can. if you are so generally naive so as not to be able to predict the exact plot, setups, resolutions, and dialogue for the next 4 episodes, than you are, in my eyes, inherently lesser-minded than most victims of sever head trauma who must re-learn their own name. seriously, dharma and greg is entertaining, but notsomuch that you should be sitting on the edge of your chair for an hour laughing like you've never seen a modern day Odd Couple. comedy writing is anemic. and if you don't see this, than you're (sorry kelly, i have to use the word) retarded.
i sat for hours in the tire kingdom waiting room catching up on my lost Klosterman reading time, when in walked a man and his son. i, as earlier stated to a friend or two, am a sucker for a father/son situation, so i admired the two for a second. this was interrupted by the apparent 16 year sugar rush/severe ADD diagnosis this boy was in the midst of. he talked...and talked...and talked. no breaths, multiple topics, little-boy flip flops slamming into the ground. yeah yeah yeah, its cute at first, but you get over the initial sense of wonder and move back to your current status, such as reading in my case. now lets just note that i too have a terrible bout with ADD that doesn't allow a grand ability to read in length, so when i occasionally maintain some form of literary endurance, it demands absolute calm. so try to mix pure focus against: "dadineedadollarforthismachinesoicangetthechocolatedoyouwantthisoneorthisoneorthisoneorthiswhyisthetabletherewherearethetoyswhatareyoudoingcanihaveadollarimgoingtogetwaterwhatsinyourpocketwhosthatmanmommyiswaitingforusicanwalkaroundtheroomcanyoubelievemylungsactuallyholdthismuchairinthembecauseitseemslikeascientificimpossibilitybutiamtheloneexceptionbecauseisecretlyhavegillsthatallowmetocontinueonandonandonandonandonandonandon..."
at this point, i start thinking two things.
1. i realized that this boy was an exact replication of how i am living. interested in everythign, but never fully devoting myself towards a single idea or movement, thereby my lack of followthrough as well as forgetting all that i gave importance too not but an hour ago. and this is no way to live. it was a way to meander and experience in free time, but even a hot air balloon floating recklessly on a breeze was once, and upon returning will be again, tethered safe at home.
2. as much as i really look forward to having kids, maybe it really can wait. because, and honestly, i must have been the most annoying brat there ever was. and i don't know if i'm ready to handle little me.
shane, that last line was not an invitation for a masturbation joke.
i had a great talk with farris and roberta (my secondary parents) yesterday in the absence of britt. we talked about the stress of seperation vs divorce, the battle between faith and logic, the advance of orthodox beliefs, potential, and happiness. it was a rare time when farris sat back and roberta challenged me...and as always they made me think. i love those two. it came to mind, while leaving, that i am not monetarily successful, nor am i successful in any sense that society would deem approved (that being all materialistic views of life). but i have been extraordinarily succesful in the friends i've made, the family i have, the trust i recieve and give, the heart i carry, the well of wisdom/common sense i carry. and these are not qualities to be scoffed at. rather, blocks to build a life on.
look at me, letting my little carry-me-away thoughts come full circle. only, much opposed to the past, they don't bring me down so much as give me hope. that damned little playing-hard-to-get emotion.
i find most sitcoms on tv mediocre at best. this is because i have grown up in the age of sitcom, and am now forced to sit through a rehashed plot i have already seen on Full House, Parker Lewis Can't Lose, Malcom in the Middle, Frasier, and twice on Friends (possibly the most overrated show to ever hit the airwaves). now, i am not one to openly laugh out loud even while watching my favorite comedians in their one-man spotlight, but i have a severe lack of respect, tolerance and patience for those that can. if you are so generally naive so as not to be able to predict the exact plot, setups, resolutions, and dialogue for the next 4 episodes, than you are, in my eyes, inherently lesser-minded than most victims of sever head trauma who must re-learn their own name. seriously, dharma and greg is entertaining, but notsomuch that you should be sitting on the edge of your chair for an hour laughing like you've never seen a modern day Odd Couple. comedy writing is anemic. and if you don't see this, than you're (sorry kelly, i have to use the word) retarded.
i sat for hours in the tire kingdom waiting room catching up on my lost Klosterman reading time, when in walked a man and his son. i, as earlier stated to a friend or two, am a sucker for a father/son situation, so i admired the two for a second. this was interrupted by the apparent 16 year sugar rush/severe ADD diagnosis this boy was in the midst of. he talked...and talked...and talked. no breaths, multiple topics, little-boy flip flops slamming into the ground. yeah yeah yeah, its cute at first, but you get over the initial sense of wonder and move back to your current status, such as reading in my case. now lets just note that i too have a terrible bout with ADD that doesn't allow a grand ability to read in length, so when i occasionally maintain some form of literary endurance, it demands absolute calm. so try to mix pure focus against: "dadineedadollarforthismachinesoicangetthechocolatedoyouwantthisoneorthisoneorthisoneorthiswhyisthetabletherewherearethetoyswhatareyoudoingcanihaveadollarimgoingtogetwaterwhatsinyourpocketwhosthatmanmommyiswaitingforusicanwalkaroundtheroomcanyoubelievemylungsactuallyholdthismuchairinthembecauseitseemslikeascientificimpossibilitybutiamtheloneexceptionbecauseisecretlyhavegillsthatallowmetocontinueonandonandonandonandonandonandon..."
at this point, i start thinking two things.
1. i realized that this boy was an exact replication of how i am living. interested in everythign, but never fully devoting myself towards a single idea or movement, thereby my lack of followthrough as well as forgetting all that i gave importance too not but an hour ago. and this is no way to live. it was a way to meander and experience in free time, but even a hot air balloon floating recklessly on a breeze was once, and upon returning will be again, tethered safe at home.
2. as much as i really look forward to having kids, maybe it really can wait. because, and honestly, i must have been the most annoying brat there ever was. and i don't know if i'm ready to handle little me.
shane, that last line was not an invitation for a masturbation joke.
i had a great talk with farris and roberta (my secondary parents) yesterday in the absence of britt. we talked about the stress of seperation vs divorce, the battle between faith and logic, the advance of orthodox beliefs, potential, and happiness. it was a rare time when farris sat back and roberta challenged me...and as always they made me think. i love those two. it came to mind, while leaving, that i am not monetarily successful, nor am i successful in any sense that society would deem approved (that being all materialistic views of life). but i have been extraordinarily succesful in the friends i've made, the family i have, the trust i recieve and give, the heart i carry, the well of wisdom/common sense i carry. and these are not qualities to be scoffed at. rather, blocks to build a life on.
look at me, letting my little carry-me-away thoughts come full circle. only, much opposed to the past, they don't bring me down so much as give me hope. that damned little playing-hard-to-get emotion.