Why?
Whether we have lots of friends now, or simply find solace in the lives of the fictional, I think that we're preparing for life and interactions either way. The former have first-hand experience, while the latter have the more interesting to dream of and things to talk about when perchance they do begin to have friends. Therefore, I've decided that I'm okay with books being my main company, because each new one offers me a wealth of new friends.
A man came into Barnes and Noble this week with a list of the "Top 100 children's books" and asked me to look each of them up and tell him the page count and the price for each. I wanted to tell him to fuck himself and learn to use the internet, but instead I decided to go through the list and tell him which ones were my personal favorites, as he was simply trying to start a library for a first grade class. So, as I went though and remembered how good those books were to me when I was younger and he asked, astonished, how those books could've possibly been around for that long (umm, I'm not that old), I wondered what my life would be like today if I had never gotten into reading. My brother was raised by the same two parents, read the same bedtime stories, and yet the only books I've ever seen him pick up are Harry Potter (which he never makes it all the way through) or books about baseball or tennis greats (which he probably never gets through either). Strange how we all turn out.
I watched Pirates of the Caribbean for the first time today, and was reminded of a thought I've had numerous times: I'd like to see what my skeleton looks like. In 3D.
I had another thought: if I were ever to become famous enough to write an autobiography (I won't), what anecdotes would I include? What things would I find memorable enough to include? Life keeps going, but it seems somewhat disconnected in my mind. While I was eating my cereal this morning, a picture flashed in my mind of a bridge we used to drive over daily to get to our house in St. Petersburg. It was the same picture I had to envision every single time I had to determine "left" or "right." For some reason, if I conjured up this image, I could tell you which way to go. I could also you whether or not a guy was gay based on which side his earring was on (wow, we were full of shit). All of this was before I learned the "L" trick. Obviously, this is not a story, but part of me wants to sit around and not do anything all day except close my eyes and try and remember as many snipets of life as I can. There are very specific memorable events with each boy I've ever dated or been interested in, and most of them are not date nights or even nights where we did anything in particular. During most of them I actually looked pretty rough, but I felt so alive.
The RPM instructor at the gym this morning said something about how she teaches the class because it makes her feel "so alive." I thought about it and decided I take the class because it makes me feel the same way. Sweating and pushing my body to the point of extreme discomfort is addictive because it provides me with a feeling of power and of reality. It's like how you don't think of how good it is to be healthy until you get sick, but how you never cease to make this realization each time you get sick. Our bodies are just there when we walk to the kitchen from the living room or get into the car or stand up at work. We don't think about it, because it's comfortable. I like that feeling of pushing myself. I am also deathly afraid of getting old, not because of how wrinkly my face will be, but because I don't want my body to be giving up on me when my mind is still as good as ever. I don't want to feel held back because of something physical.
I also don't want to get stuck living a boring and predictable life. That scares the shit out of me. My life may be fairly predictable these days, but I'm still fairly reined in due to the fact that I am not yet 21 and therefore cannot legally drink or rent a car or a hotel room in certain states, I still live with my parents, I don't have a real job, I can't pay for my own education, etc, etc. Well, I could, but I choose not to. No need to struggle yet. However, once I'm out and expected to be on my own, I want to travel the country in a car and go to all the cheesy bars and B&B's and tourist traps and restaurants in shacks and write all about everything -- all the Elvises I see, all the stories I hear. I am aware that this is not original, but I love the idea of having no idea how anything will turn out, where I will be at any given point in time, where I will sleep from night to night, who I will meet, what I will learn... It just seems so much more fulfilling than working a "successful" job rolling in buckets of money but never really doing anything else much besides working, coming home and eating dinner with my husband who I'm not really in love with anymore, watching TV, and logging onto my computer. I'm already heading down a pathetically American path, and I want to stop before it gets too late. I want to give up the computer, give up eating junk, and give up being cynical and closed-off to certain people.
I waste too much time. I need to begin a life of purpose. Now, how to define that:
"I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
-- Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
A man came into Barnes and Noble this week with a list of the "Top 100 children's books" and asked me to look each of them up and tell him the page count and the price for each. I wanted to tell him to fuck himself and learn to use the internet, but instead I decided to go through the list and tell him which ones were my personal favorites, as he was simply trying to start a library for a first grade class. So, as I went though and remembered how good those books were to me when I was younger and he asked, astonished, how those books could've possibly been around for that long (umm, I'm not that old), I wondered what my life would be like today if I had never gotten into reading. My brother was raised by the same two parents, read the same bedtime stories, and yet the only books I've ever seen him pick up are Harry Potter (which he never makes it all the way through) or books about baseball or tennis greats (which he probably never gets through either). Strange how we all turn out.
I watched Pirates of the Caribbean for the first time today, and was reminded of a thought I've had numerous times: I'd like to see what my skeleton looks like. In 3D.
I had another thought: if I were ever to become famous enough to write an autobiography (I won't), what anecdotes would I include? What things would I find memorable enough to include? Life keeps going, but it seems somewhat disconnected in my mind. While I was eating my cereal this morning, a picture flashed in my mind of a bridge we used to drive over daily to get to our house in St. Petersburg. It was the same picture I had to envision every single time I had to determine "left" or "right." For some reason, if I conjured up this image, I could tell you which way to go. I could also you whether or not a guy was gay based on which side his earring was on (wow, we were full of shit). All of this was before I learned the "L" trick. Obviously, this is not a story, but part of me wants to sit around and not do anything all day except close my eyes and try and remember as many snipets of life as I can. There are very specific memorable events with each boy I've ever dated or been interested in, and most of them are not date nights or even nights where we did anything in particular. During most of them I actually looked pretty rough, but I felt so alive.
The RPM instructor at the gym this morning said something about how she teaches the class because it makes her feel "so alive." I thought about it and decided I take the class because it makes me feel the same way. Sweating and pushing my body to the point of extreme discomfort is addictive because it provides me with a feeling of power and of reality. It's like how you don't think of how good it is to be healthy until you get sick, but how you never cease to make this realization each time you get sick. Our bodies are just there when we walk to the kitchen from the living room or get into the car or stand up at work. We don't think about it, because it's comfortable. I like that feeling of pushing myself. I am also deathly afraid of getting old, not because of how wrinkly my face will be, but because I don't want my body to be giving up on me when my mind is still as good as ever. I don't want to feel held back because of something physical.
I also don't want to get stuck living a boring and predictable life. That scares the shit out of me. My life may be fairly predictable these days, but I'm still fairly reined in due to the fact that I am not yet 21 and therefore cannot legally drink or rent a car or a hotel room in certain states, I still live with my parents, I don't have a real job, I can't pay for my own education, etc, etc. Well, I could, but I choose not to. No need to struggle yet. However, once I'm out and expected to be on my own, I want to travel the country in a car and go to all the cheesy bars and B&B's and tourist traps and restaurants in shacks and write all about everything -- all the Elvises I see, all the stories I hear. I am aware that this is not original, but I love the idea of having no idea how anything will turn out, where I will be at any given point in time, where I will sleep from night to night, who I will meet, what I will learn... It just seems so much more fulfilling than working a "successful" job rolling in buckets of money but never really doing anything else much besides working, coming home and eating dinner with my husband who I'm not really in love with anymore, watching TV, and logging onto my computer. I'm already heading down a pathetically American path, and I want to stop before it gets too late. I want to give up the computer, give up eating junk, and give up being cynical and closed-off to certain people.
I waste too much time. I need to begin a life of purpose. Now, how to define that:
"I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
-- Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet