After it kept coming up in conversations, I decided to re-read Infinite Jest. It's been about ten years. After just three chapters it's back at the top of my favorite books. I can't quite put my finger on it. The characters – Hal's in the opening scene...his disconnect to what is going on around him and even what is going out of his mouth... "We witnessed something only marginally mammalian in there, sir"... heartbreaking and hilarious. The themes – addiction, family, consumerism, entertainment. The straight up love of words. And it is dense and unforgiving to the reader but in such a way that is so rewarding in the end. It's not a book I am going to devour this time. I plan on savoring it this go around.
My back started to peal on Thursday and hasn't stopped. Yes, it is disgusting. And it itches like hell. The sslowly flaking front line has finally reached the small of my back to the small injury I received during my 201 Musical Improv show. I have no idea why that tiny injury refused to heal right. Yet another silly minor scar with a silly story. (To go with (1) "That was from a vacuum cleaner while playing Ed Norton in a separatist-feminist version of Alcestis," (2) "That was from making clockwork awning for a theater," and (3) "That was when I cut myself with a bagel... no, not while cutting a bagel... I cut myself WITH a bagel.")
Related confession: I really enjoy and am fascinated by the process of pealing long sheets of skin off my arms and legs.
The complexity of age has crossed my mind lately. It's a hard thing to talk about. Age is relative but there are aspects of it that do affect you. You go through stages. They aren't clear cut but they are there. It's not about maturity. It's just about "stuff that happens." For example, before you turn thirty you might scoff at the idea of crossing that artificial mile marker. (I know I did.) "It means nothing. There is no greater difference between 29 and 30 than there is between 28 and 29 or 30 and 31." But when you are in it, late at night, reflecting back at life's pile of failure and regrets and looking forward at the diminishing amount of future available to you... it affects you. That is just one example. Explaining to someone what having a seven year relationship end in failure (even if you know that the relationship made you into the you you are now and you like that you and are glad you are that you and not another different you) will never quite be understood if they haven't experienced something similar. Empathy only goes so far. But it is hard to explain to people why age makes a difference without coming across as condescending.
When asked my favorite part of the U.S. Constitution, I usually go with good ol' Amendment numero uno. I think there is a reason it was first. I don't hate the media and the press. Sure, they make me angry at times but I firmly believe that they are MASSIVELY important in this day and age. So my hackles were certainly raised by charges that the "left-wing biased media" were asking "unfair and mean" questions and Gov. Palin's past and record. You know what? You pick a basically unknown to be your candidate for Vice President a few scant days before your national convention (which, lets be fair, is just a four day commercial), it is the media's job to ask fucking questions. You didn't give them a whole lot of time to figure out what questions to start asking so they had to ask any ones that came up. Half the questions they asked were "So, how do Republicans at the convention feel about this thing?" And the answer they got was "We love it!" So, hey, Republicans? You got some mighty fine coverage last week. Enjoy it. You came out looking good... except when you were whining like little bitches that the media was attacking you. You make an off-the-wall "maverick" choice, well, guess the fuck what? People are going to try to figure out the whys, whats and whos. (I normally refrain from swearing here but sometimes it's called for.)
Also go listen to On The Media this week. I heart Brooke Gladstone and Bob Garfield so much.
I do love good dramatic exit lines. I really appreciate people who want to make their lives like a movie, especially a smart movie. I do it all the time. I once gave the greatest speech of my life as an exit line. After she told me that we couldn't continue (or even get past the opening moments of) our starting relationship because in the past she always hurt people she loved and she could tell she was falling for me hard and she didn't want to hurt me, I just stood up, put on my shows and walk to the door... not saying a word. My had rested on the doorknob for three long breaths. I turned back to her. She was sitting on her couch, clutching a throw pillow to her chest. And I began to laugh slightly.
"You," I began, "are stupid. Not a stupid person because you are one of the smartest people I know. You are smart, funny, kind, entertaining, talented almost beyond measure... and, well, extremely sexy and beautiful. But, right now, at this moment, you are stupid. I couldn't care less about what you did in the past. I don't want to be with who you were in the past. I want to date the you right here in this room. And I'm not any of the men you have dated in the past. I am me. And we have something. You just said so. There is something between us that could be something incredibly special. But you want to run and hide behind your pillow because you are scared of the past and the future. Yes, you might hurt me. I might hurt you because god knows I've done that too. Yes, it may all end badly. Let's be fair. Most relationships do. But to not even try because you like me too much? That, [her name], is just plane stupid."*
And I smiled, opened the door, and walked out.
Great moment. But of course life isn't a movie. She didn't throw open her window and yell at me to come back. That's the problem with most well-crafted exit lines in the real world: the other person hasn't learned their part.
*As true as this event is, I am sure time and my ability to romanticize just about anything has tweaked some of the details in my memories.
I made a milkshake today that was so super-delicious that I am filled with bliss.
It is possible to be super jealous of someone and super happy for them at the same time. These are the times I think to myself, "Why am I giving them advice on this? Why don't I take my own advice sometimes and place myself in that position?"
There is an up coming class that I really hope I get into. It's with a teacher I really want to continue with, working on a form I think I'd be really good at and that I'd learn tons from. I also have this issue/anxiety about advanced classes since I keep not getting to them. I don't seek out praise or confirmation but I'd like a shot at least. Again, if I don't get in, I will be super-jealous and super-happy for those that do.
Russia's The Dead Hand
7 years ago