People (you know those proverbial people we all know) like to casually ask “What’s your greatest fear?”
There’s always death-loneliness-regret-losing-the-one-I-love. Default. Safe.
When someone asks me, just for the sake of it I say “camel toe” and/or [insert facetious remark here], and they chuckle, maybe, and we change subjects.
But if I’m really thinking about it: what I fear most is waking up one day and finding that I’m no longer astonished at anything.
So I’m not.
There’s a Law & Order: Los Angeles?
- For serious, Dick Wolf? I am clearly out of the (proverbial) proverbial loop.
- I’m not sure if it’s good or not, but awesome casting with Alfred Molina and Skeet Ulrich.
- Why must crime procedurals feel the need to bear so many offspring?
- BRB, I’m gonna go laugh at the episode names.
- (Telling Peter about the rap song I'm making)
- Me: The last line is, "Ninja, you ain't got shit today, you rap black and white, I rap C-M-Y-K."
- Peter: I hate the new Facebook layout for chat. It's either grey or green. But it's really biased against colorblind people like me. I can't tell. -_-
- Me: Ohhh.
- Peter: You should write a poem about how the world is biased against left-handed color blind gay people.
Kevin Barnes in some other interview I read once. The quote came up on an All Things Considered interview today and it made me laugh all over again.
Man, I need more human interaction. I’m far too amused by everything.
I haven’t taught properly since the week before last. Still, it’s taking me ten years to write my post-midterm lesson plans. I’m kind of unmotivated, so now I’m going to randomly blog about the more mundane aspects of my life. Just because I feel like it.
- Scrapping my stupid idea to revive a short story I started way back when. Which was actually a back story thingy to that script I tried to write for that one class, but since they only required the first 10-15 minutes into the inciting incident, that’s where I stopped. I need to change everything. Square one, you are looking mighty fine to go back to as of late. If you want to be my writing buddy (a.k.a. consume ridiculous amounts of caffeine while staring at blank screens), holla.
- I was reading Love in the Time of Cholera, but then I took a break to read something else (Franny and Zooey), and then I re-read Persepolis and parts of Brief Interviews with Hideous Men mostly because they were sitting on my bed. Attraction because of proximity. That might say a lot about me. I don’t know why I keep stuff on my bed. So this week I’m going to read something else completely, but I haven’t decided what. And then I wonder why it takes me so long to finish some books. I should go one or two at a time.
- I still want a Kindle… hmm. It’s sitting in my Amazon cart, waiting for my credit card info.
- Rotation obsession, in case you care: The So So Glos, Mon Khmer, Deerhunter, Child Rebel Soldier, Janelle Monae, and of course, NKOTB (only their obscure stuff duh). I was streaming Age of Adz on NPR, but I never get through actually listening to it all, as far as I remember. I always end up switching to talk radio/news.
- Speaking of news, I’m looking at these media fellowship apps and thinking maybe I want to do other things (for an entire year) before I attempt them.
- Maybe I need to just do that spec for Modern Family I keep drafting in my head/on random pieces of paper. But then I haven’t decided whether I want to go into that whole mess or not… damn. I need a new project.
- Actually, I don’t… I should finish everything else first.
I may/may not have issues with completion. And making decisions.
“I am alone. I can’t find a part-time job. I don’t have enough money to buy a new computer. I eat too much junk food. I’m not good at math. I don’t study hard.”
Can you guess where this excerpt is from?
Selections from my Father’s emails. The last few lines are always random wrap-ups:
”[…] since saturday is hot, last monday is 107 degree in valley is 113 degree it brake the record for the same period. lakers will play timberwolves in britain exhibition game, they are practicing right now. artest change his no. 37 to 15. may be you know it already. just e-mail me if you need something. this is now, take care. love daddy.”
Sometimes I wonder if he found my blog, what he would say about my life and sharing parts of his messages to me.
He’d probably ask if it means he’s famous.
- Student 1: Teacher, do you like Snoopy?
- Me: Yes, I love Snoopy!
- Student 1: You look like Snoopy's friend.
- Me: Which one?
- Student 1: I don't know the name.
- Student 2: Marcie!
- Student 3: Teacher, is Marcie a man or woman?
- (For the record, Student 1 was referring to Sally.)
My computer is making dinosaur noises, so I’m trying this fall cleaning thing, deleting unnecessary files/moving files to my external drive, hoping to rescue this machine that was produced in the late Triassic Period.
Cleaning out computer files is almost like cleaning out your bedroom. You come across a photo you’d since forgotten about, and feelings you hadn’t felt… you pick up a lovely trinket you thought you’d lost or pages with fits of semi-coherent writing. (To yourself or someone else? You wonder.) You also uncover a lot of junk that makes you question your excessive tendencies. Or is that just me?
Sometimes, if your found items aren’t specific enough, the memory of the moment and the why escape you. But even without a veritable mental snapshot, there’s always a lingering sense about them. Not like mothballs. But like a cotton blanket that you tucked away mindlessly in the back of your closet… so tightly that when you finally rediscover it seasons later, it seems to breathe out as it decompresses.
Example of aforementioned “found” scrap files below. I may/may not have posted it on my now-defunct blog. I can barely remember who it’s about, but I can guess.
It might be kind of elementary. But I recognize the honesty.