We are back to full steam, just in time for the work week. Humph.
After four days of stubbly growth and stinky socks I decided to roll
out the door and up to a friends where we ate greasy buffalo wings and
some strange dip, drank lots of coffee, and participated in taunting
-- lots and and lots of taunting.
Never a big sports fan I bought into the tradition of the "Super Bowl"
simple to make sure I had not lost all social skills. I heard myths
that four days without people can drive some to insanity. Don't believe
I found myself leaving the confines of my friends' home around
half-time. I got back to my own place, had enough time to let my dog
out, and then get comfortable before the second half began. I sat with
my pants unbuttoned and my belly full. I ran text message commentary for three of my
friends until the end. Never knew the baby Jesus was into blessing
Super Bowl champs. Does he approve of capitalism and Prince? Huh.
Other than that, being sick reminded me I can be pretty okay with just
being alone today for the most part. I kind of like it, especially when
I hit one of those work week funks where I look at the thermometer, it
says 2 degrees at noon, and just wanted to sleep in.
By God I am such a girly man. With all of the best intentions I started my week. By the end of it I was curled up in a fetal position groaning and wanting to muzzle my dog. I began a horrible cold Wednesday night. It waned Thursday during the day. It gave me enough time to speak in public, jacked up on cold medicine and I know not making much sense. The cold then kept me wheezing for the better part of Thursday night and throughout Friday.
I hate severe colds. What I hate worse is the fact that I feel too old to ask my mother to play nurse-maid and am too single to have a significant other care for me. My running is also on hiatus with bitter highs in the mid 20s.
I tried to watch more Netflix, but found myself napping and watching Law and Order Criminal Intent marathons instead. I've had twisted, twisted dreams. I think I could outsmart Det. Robert Goren if I could only stay awake for a few more episodes.
The highlight for Friday was being able to fix myself some Bean and Bacon soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Complete awesomeness.
Outside of the family situation with its mounting chaos and sad overtones I've found myself strangely at peace. I've sought out fulfilling situations and activities in the past few weeks.
I've willingly engaged people and situations on a more honest, intuitive and intimate basis. I've drank coffee and held long conversations with others about experiences, movies, news, and books.
I went to the theater on Sunday and saw a play. I have not done that since 1999 when I saw a local theater company's mediocre production of Our Town. This time I went to the metro theater with an honest-to-goodness professional production company.
I also continue to watch movies. Recently I watched Diner and Ingmar Berman's Wild Strawberries(dare I say) for the first time. A couple of more Berman films sit in my Que.
These activities constitute a small renaissance for me personally. For a while my life had become routine. My thoughts were filled with maudlin self-reflection. I lost any real creative spark. Life was drab. I did nothing more than work, meet, eat, and go home.
I don't know how long this feeling will last or where it may take me, but I feel personally fulfilled and able to contribute instead of simply taking up space and waiting.
Oh, and tomorrow, I start running outside. Three weeks without smoking and the gym is getting boring.
Well, we'll assume it is okay to go ahead and announce some news of a personal nature:
I am going to be an uncle. Yup. It seems pretty much confirmed. A born on date is to be determined in the near future. It's difficult to wrap my brain around being an uncle. It's even more difficult knowing who the daddy is. My parents' reaction, with whom sis still lives, is less than receptive. The react is reasonable on their end to say the least. This situation is ripe with potential baby-momma-drama. I'm sad to say that about my younger sibling, but it is true. Also, selfish or not, this is a perfect time to take a hiatus from too much interaction with the fam. I can't seem to not express my opinion when around them. Supposedly, I start "preaching." Thank God for good friends, people I can actually help, Netflix, and a constant reminder the drama is not mine. Oh, and as one friend put it, I have nine months (give or take) to prepare to be the best damn uncle in the world if the situation allows. Hrmph.
I had a much larger post in my head about movies seen, people met, and dramatic issues in my life, but I failed to take lunch today in order to write it all down in my notebook before transcribing it onto here.
Yes, I began carrying around one of those black marbled notebooks with the funky binding you can get at most stores for like $1.90. I heard it is what all the wildly successful and popular writers do. They keep cheap notebooks with them to jot down quirky insights or observations and land book deals through their blogs.
Some of what I fill my notebook with during lunch breaks (where I settle down for a half hour with a Red Delicious or Lean Pocket) is gibberish. Other musings though have been so intensely personal or j-o-b threatening I've decided to keep them to myself.
It's not as if anyone who actually reads this blog could or would possibly relate information back to the appropriate people . . . but still. Plus, sometimes it's just fun to sit down and write for me and no one else.
Of course I also realize that maybe these incredibly talented people with written journals are on to something. An entry meant for here actually landed in a publication as a column about two weeks ago instead and was well received .
Damn, I guess I am a professional writer.
Other than that I felt rather lethargic and strung out emotionally lately. I've dreaded going to said j-o-b. I've avoided people in the f-a-m. I spent a lot of time watching movies.
I really do wish I had written that wonderful review I planned. Perhaps tomorrow. Then I can tell you how thoroughly convinced I am that Pan's Labyrinth really is the best film of 2006. Oh, and how I had to divert my eyes and cry a little at the end.