i should not, however, complain. that is probably the last thing i should do. life is great- at times mundane, but there is beauty i think in simplicity. especially when all that you know and all that you are trained to know is that no matter what you are doing, there are always eight hundred million meaningless things that you aren't. but you feel like you should be, perhaps you want to be. everyone gets caught up in that, it seems, myself included and it's nice, refreshing, to have a moment, a minute to be able to stop and contemplate what the fuck is going on in your life and consequently, whatever you are or are not going to choose to do about it. i've found summer has been good for this.
good news: courtney & i have (cross your fingers) found an apartment to live in next year with the help of one hell of a broker. it is in a neighborhood with all of these beautiful old Victorian houses and gardens and is on the second floor. i turned in the lease information today so all we have left to do is have the documents drawn up and plan the move in date, which may very well be within the next week or so.
so i haven't particularly posted anything of consequence in awhile- well, let's be honest, ever- and i figure, why break the trend now. i suppose the flippancy with which i write in this silly little blog could reflect upon myself or (gasp) my character, but who gives a fuck about that nonsense anyway. and just a note, if you are reading this, i sincerely hope that you somehow know me/have met me/bumped into me drunkenly and had me projectile vomit all over you (can't remember this ever happening, but i don't remember lots of things when inebriated so i'm sure it's possible)/etc. and if not, well, the internet's built to enable voyeurs, isn't it? this will probably bore you to tears anyway. now that i've gotten that out of the way, here's a playlist of songs i can't get enough of (after the jump, folks)...
When people count their guilty pleasures, they tend to think of sex or chocolate, sappy music or something so bad it’s good, some sensational or simply embarassing subject.They do not usually think of the television (t.v. if you will) show Cops.This is where I and the majority of middle and, well, I guess all other side Americans, differ.Cops is t.v. at its very best and in saying so, it doesn’t even need to try hard.
I was watching one segment today concerning a domestic issue between a married couple.The male specimen was looking quite dapper in his threadbare “wife beater” (I use this term very loosely, but I found it ironic and thus, appropriate considering the fact that his wife was actually accusing him of battery) and an ever classy trucker hat.The cops refused to give him a ride to his house so that they could get his wife’s statement, even though he plainly announced the fact that he neither owns a car nor has any other means of getting back.Once the man arrived home (long walk), the cop (who didn’t want the wife to know that her husband was there) asked him to hide.It is unclear who the police officer deemed to be the seeker though I have heard reports of this being a blitz type concept to confuse the hider while the seeker actually closes in on them.Anyway.The cop made the wife leave the house with her alcoholic daughter who had agreed to let her stay in her family’s cozy trailer for the night- but apparently, she’d only get the couch.At the end of the episode the cop actually said, “Nothing good comes from alcohol, I always tell that to people.Name one good thing...”At this point, for some reason, the officer looked around- seemed like a lot of good things- and commented, “I tell ya, I’ve got a headache after this one.”
today, i got a preview of what i imagine hell will be like. one hundred and two with the heat index...the best adjective to describe the heat would either be scorching or blistering, i'm torn. and as much as i myself do love the warm weather, this was too excessive even for me.
anyway.
i went out for an hour or two with my sister and came back to see my mother intently watching michael j. fox in yellow hipster shades dancing on top of a cherry red convertible on television.
me: "WHAT are you watching?"
my mother: "Teenage Wolf."
I start laughing.
my mother: "What? Do I need an excuse to watch a television program?"
I continue to laugh.
my mother: "I happened to watch it when I was younger and it was funny. Plus, Michael J. Fox is in it."
I don't know many people who watch movies or anything for that matter, on the basis of Michael J. Fox being in them, but that's beside the point.
"I just didn't expect that. Enjoy the werewolves."
For some reason, I find almost every interaction nowadays to be amusing.
i keep thinking that it is all about egos. at the basis of it all, we're just animals, testing each other's boundaries, baring our teeth at the slightest indiscretion, attempting to demonstrate our domination, backing up our barks with a bite, taking the respect we feel we're inherently entitled to should someone so much as look at us the wrong way.
maybe i've just been watching too many episodes of Inside American Prison lately, but it seems to me that this is reality. everything, or at the very least, most of everything, is dictated by our instinctive animalistic nature. we're driven by ego and a need for respect. you never think of prisoners as being logical and for the most part, they aren't, but rather, governed almost entirely by the animal ego. from watching the aforementioned prison documentaries which i'm positively addicted to, i've gathered that many prisoners believe it to be a perfectly rational justification to kill someone merely for looking at them in a way that they perceive to be "wrong." animals, baring their teeth.
life loves to contradict itself, at least in my case. here i am, sitting at my desk (still), feeling just a little bit of self-pity, woe is me type shit, when what happens, but the phone rings. i have an interview with madewell tomorrow. do i like the idea of work? no, who does. but i love the idea of being busy, of not always being inside myself. i think too much. which is a good thing typically, but it can make a person crazy if let alone for too long. and this doesn't exactly correlate well with the fact that i do love being alone. then, not five minutes after i get off the phone with that manager, my mother brings up the phone (a peace gesture? i give her the dirtiest look i can muster- which is, indeed, quite foul) and it happens to be the manager of Borders, as in the bookstore for all of you illiterate fools out there (no offense, middle America). The phone call I have been waiting for! (wow, i actually just used capitalization, that demonstrates the amount of my enthusiasm) i have an interview with them on thursday and you can wish me luck.
