Monthly Archives: June 2009

On the gift horse of choice.

I used to think that whatever my intial response to anything was, or my first reaction, was natural and authentic and maybe not necessarily right…but if it wasn’t right, then I’d make the necessary adjustments so my response was both genuine and correct. Whatever came out of me, though, at least wasn’t feigned. 

Tonight there is this local jazz band playing and this woman stands up and starts dancing. She’s in her 30’s, granola to boot and her boyfriend has on matching cargo pants. Her face is pink from embarassment and she’s smiling too much. She moves awkwardly, occasionally jabbing at her boyfriend who is refusing to dance with her but awkwardly forcing himself to get lost in the moment and laugh at/with her. He wants to show anyone who is watching that they are in love and that he thinks she is spontaneous and full of life. Just like she knows people are watching and is trying to prove that she is spontaneous and full of life. But, I have to wonder, by trying to prove that you’re something aren’t you just proving that you’re not. You can’t be lost in the moment and, at the same time, be worried about making it look like you’re lost in the moment because if you really were you wouldn’t be worried about what it looks like. That’s another entry though.

I think that was my initial response. That being said I didn’t allow myself to have an initial response, to just think about what I observed how I naturally thought about it. I only allowed myself to consider the different ways I could think about what I was observed. 

I could be inspired. Reverting to the mindset I had when I was 18, in short, that life was charming and living it to the fullest meant appreciating local art and dancing even when you’re the only one and everyone is watching.

I could be discouraged by the fact that even at 30 people still haven’t found any new meaning to life, still just trying to prove things and  trying to live the lifestyle they read about in a magazine. 

I could be forgiving and happy that people are out trying to have a good time.

I could choose to just be oblivious to it all and pretend not to notice. Of course then I’m faced with the dilema of trying to think of something else to think about and I’m almost out of roasted candied walnuts.

Of course, being prone to indecisiveness, I never settled on a perspective. 
Isn’t it awful that when you grow up you stop just reacting to things? Instead, you have to CHOOSE how you will react to them. It makes having opinions more difficult because there are almost limitless ways of looking at the same thing. With just a minimal amount of effort and creativity you could spend a lifetime trying on perspectives and never know which one fits or which one is accurate. Hoping, the one that fits is the one that’s accurate.
Which leads me to think, I’m sorry I wasn’t inspired or enchanted by the woman dancing. I noticed that I don’t react the way I did when I was 18, and I feel a little sorry about that. It seems to me I’ve lost something. Consequently, my next thought is, I don’t have to see it that way. I could decide that it’s ok to change and whatever change I’m noticing isn’t bad and deserves to be explored and given a fair chance instead of just resisting it and trying to remedy it without ever knowing what it is.

I think I’ll stick with that.

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In your head zoooombie.

Tonight I made dinner for my brother and I and took it over to his place because he has cable. I was watching The Devil Wears Prada and reading Tess of D’Urberville during the commercial breaks.

“In the ill-judged execution of the well-judged plan of things the call seldom produces the comer, the man to love rarely coincides with the hour for loving. Nature does not often say ‘See!’ to her poor creature at a time when seeing can lead to happy doing; or reply ‘Here!’ to a body’s cry of ‘Where?’ till the hide-and-seek has become an irksome, outworn game…it was not the two halves of a perfect whole that confronted each other at the perfect moment; a missing counterpart wandered independently about the earth waiting in crass obtuseness till the late time came. Out of which maladroit delay sprang anxieties, disappointments, shocks, catastrophes, and passing-strange destinies.”

Then it’s back to Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway and the guy from Drive Me Crazy. My favorite part of this movie is Meryl Streep in the Limo with Anne Hathaway when Streep says, “Everyone wants to be us.” She delivers the line so flawlessly, you feel and know simultaneously that what she is saying is so tragically and unfortunately true. It seems to encapsulate a life’s endeavor to live an image and it’s success to live it so well that anything real or good or worthwhile is obliterated and obsolete.

Meanwhile the glare on the TV creates the illusion that my cell phone, waiting patiently on my lap, is lighting up to alert me of an incoming call. I ardently look to see who it is, but alas in vain.

Thor licked the back of my head-“Rick I think Thor needs to go out.” I shouted. You know what’s funny watched pots never boil and watched phones never ring. As soon as the door shut behind my brother and his dog, I was free to talk out loud to myself (as I am wont to do). “This really sucks.” I said matter of factly. “What sucks?” I heard faintly in the distance.

It was my brother’s friend who was online chatting with him. The microphone had picked up my despair and I was suddenly being talked back to. “The movie” I hollered back. Then Ryan said something inaudible and I reverted to keeping my thoughts to myself.

This has all got me thinking how much cooler of a friend God would be if he just talked back every once in a while. I mean, everyone else interrupts me when I talk incessantly. Or maybe I need to move to a smart house, or live on board the U.S.S. enterprise “Computer… when you’re done fickeling around calculating warp speed could you tell me why I feel this way?”

In other news I am officially tired of movies/tv shows about fashion magazines.

Choose your own adventure

Wanda filters in and out of the isles. Checking nutritional content and comparing costs. She didn’t make a list.
She recognizes the song playing in the background, she stops a second under a speaker and listens until she can make out the melody. She hasn’t heard that song for years. Before she is lost in a day dream an Asian man coming from the opposite direction waits patiently for her to step out of his way. She scoots her cart half a foot to the left and allows him to pass, nodding slightly as he goes.

The phone in her purse vibrates. She looks down and smiles at the familiar name written across the front LCD screen.
“Jack!”
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m getting a couple groceries what’s up?”
“I’m off work early tonight and wanted to know if you’re free?”
“Well, I had told a friend of mine I’d help her with some paperwork, but it’s nothing that can’t wait till tomorrow.”

If you want Jack to say “Great then it’s a date! Can I pick you up at 7?” move on the following paragraph.
If you want Jack to say “Oh, that’s alright we can do it another time, you already have plans.” go to the last paragraph.

“Great then it’s a date! Can I pick you up at 7?”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” Wanda beamed as she put the phone back in her purse and made her way to the self-check out stand. Everyone lived happily ever after.

“Oh, that’s alright we can do it another time, you already have plans.”
“really it’s not that big of a deal, I can help Jainnie anytime.”
“No, really, I insist.”
“Ok well I guess I’ll see you later?”
“Sure, take care!”
“Ok, bye!” Wanda tossed the phone back in her purse disappointedly and threw another bag of dried pinto beans in her cart. The end.