Rain is great. Especially when you’re driving and you can hardly see anything and it seems like the hand of God is smashing against your windshield. Or when you’re out walking in it and your mom tells you to come inside before you get struck by lightning. Sideways rain sucks, though. It’s cold and it stings and it’s altogether miserable.
Archive for July 2002
It’s one thing to see a dead adult. It’s quite another to see a dead child.
Imagine someone you have a huge crush on. Got the picture? Now picture them getting down on their knees and begging you to go out with them. Would you?I don’t think I would. Sure, I like her a lot, but if she begged me, she’d suddenly seem a lot less attractive. Desperation is one of the least sexy traits a person can have. Some women have told me that they can smell it and it makes even the most attractive guys seem ugly. I’ve snickered at Newspaper Personal Ads in the past without ever realizing that I was just as lovesick as the people who wrote them, perhaps moreso.
I mentioned earlier that I’m only myself when I’m not worried about being myself. I think love is the same way. Most of the time, we’ll only find love if we’re not thinking about it. Making a relationship work takes time and effort. Making a relationship happen is easy, yet at the same time, it is incredibly difficult. Sometimes I meet a girl and think we’d be great together, that we have enough in common, yet enough in contrast, to at least get a decent relationship out of it. I’m only right 10% of the time. The chemistry between two people cannot be stereotyped; rarely is it even decently predicted. Romance is an accident. A happy accident, yes, but an accident all the same.
One of humanity’s most common diseases is lovesickness. I admit, albeit with a bit of sheepishness and shame, that I’ve been fighting it for years upon years. Thanks to the efforts of myself and my friends and probably some divine suggestion (stuff like this must be easy for God..but I guess everything is), I have it on the brink of death. Indeed, indeed, I pray that the last of it will soon be slew. And here is why: I don’t need a relationship to be happy. I’m happy with the way my life is now. Every single person can be.
What if LiveJournal allowed for Enemies Lists? That’d be pretty depressing.
“Forever” is a whole lot bigger than seven letters. Don’t mess with it if you’re not serious about making the commitment.
I just wrote a report about stalking, and here’s a tip: if someone is really, seriously stalking you, a restraining order’s not going to stop them. The person actually has to be caught in the act to violate a restraining order, and besides that, there are numerous other media, like telephones and the Internet, that don’t apply to a five-hundred-foot distance. Watch out.
“When does later become never?”
“When it doesn’t happen.”
How true he was!
Today a friend of mine was arrested for “shoplifting” a can of Coke from a grocery store. In truth, he forgot to pay for it at the counter; when someone pointed it out, he paid back the sum. He was too late. The police were already on the way. In jail, they offered him $30 bail or a night in the slammer. He refused both, and fortunately, a higher-up cop let him out. Nevertheless, he is now the proud owner of a $75 fine and a restraining order.This only supports my deep dislike of law enforcement. Yes, I’m grateful that we have guys out on the streets fighting crime, but I think there are way too many arcane laws on the books (can’t tie a crocodile to a fire hydrant in New York, is it?). Whenever I’m near a policeman, I feel very nervous and uneasy. I’m afraid he’s going to arrest me for something ridiculous, like going 41 in a 40 (I rarely see a policeman go the speed limit) or driving over a white line or not tucking my shirt in. I don’t think my fears are unfounded. My town’s been in the national news for its implicit D. W. B. (Driving While Black) penalties.
We should clean up our laws some time. While we’re at it, let’s clean up the U.S. Government! It reminds me of a big, hulking elephant chasing for mice. Sure, it’ll catch some of it’s locked in a room with them, but only after a lot of time and a lot of dead ones.
I suppose, however, that some jobs are so daunting that the men who do them only come around every hundred years or so. In that case, we’ll just have to wait and stop arresting people who forget to pay for cans of soda.
Ever have a conversation with someone you really like, and then beaten yourself up for all the stuff you could’ve said and all the stuff you shouldn’t have said? The funny thing is, she probably didn’t notice.
Here’s a paradox: I’m only myself when I’m not worrying about being myself.
I’d like to try caviar some time. I’ll bet it has a very interesting taste.
I think more airlines should serve peanuts. The pretzels and random stuff they’re giving us is simply unsatisfactory. Peanuts are healthier and more delicious than any of the hack substitutes they’re giving us these days. Kudos to all the airlines who are loyal to the peanut gallery.
Easy jobs are dangerous. They lull you to sleep; while you’re thinking about how easy your job is, it passes you by, and everything is lost.
The complexity of life astounds me. Adding a person, or subtracting one, from any given situation can change absolutely everything. What if person A had not been at place B at time C? There are few better proofs of the beauty and utility of man and his creator.
People are generally more appreciated when they’re sick or dead than they are when they’re alive. Why?I suspect it is a matter of life’s fragile, yet beautiful nature – life as an ice sculpture, perhaps. The ice lends the work a stunning, sparkling beauty, yet it curses it with something else: mortality. Yet the mortality of the sculpture only amplifies its beauty. It lends the viewer a sense of immediacy. He had better enjoy the work now, because it may not be there when he comes back.
Life is the same way. Sickness and death remind us of the fragility of the victim’s life and our own. We try to get the most of the opportunities we have, because they may not be there on the way back. Often this leads us to see things, and especially people, in an entirely new light. We only truly appreciate something when it’s gone. This is the mystery, and perhaps the joy, of pain, loss, and death.
Ever pour water on a hot stove? It sings and dances as it burns. All that’s left is steam. It reminds me of taking a shower when I have a huge sunburn.
“The only thing stronger than your language is your negative attitude.”
“Soo, how do you want your eggs?”
“You know..devilled, scrambled, benedict?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Well I mean..you’re the one cooking, right?”
“Why don’t you make it your way?”
“‘Cause I’m asking you!”
“Dude! Do you have a problem with responsibility, or do you just not like eggs?”
“Any last words?”
“Yeah…when you’re getting breakfast in hell, how will you want your eggs?”
“What kind of question is…”
“How’d you know?”
“Well, uh, I didn’t. But you did. Anyone else would’ve snapped my neck about five minutes ago.”
I’ve always wanted to be the legendary hero. I’ve dreamed about changing the world, even changing history, with my deeds and words. Sometimes, after talking to adults, I’ve wondered – no, I’ve hoped – that I rattled something inside them, that I awakened some deep intuition about them. “He’s the One,” they’d say. And they’d remember me forever.Recently, I’ve been thinking more along the lines of Legendary Writer. For a couple years now, I’ve fantasized about writing the Great American Novel, something that changes everyone’s life. At times it’s not just a dream; it’s an expectation. “He’s got some chops,” the English teachers would say. And they’d remember me forever.
But today, things are different. Today I realized that I don’t need to do something big to be happy. I just have to do what God made me for. I know not the time or the place, or even what it is I’m to do, but God does. That’s what matters. Does it matter if the world remembers me? I don’t think so. My best friends will remember me, and even if they don’t, the Lord will remember me. That’s all that matters. Why be the legendary hero? I’d much rather be myself.