I Don’t Know What To Put Here

I am, as you may have guessed, back from my little trip. I would have liked to stay out a little while longer but I was informed of duties to which I must attend back at home.

Specifically, it seems that an old friend of mine has decided to get married. This is not itself an unusual occurrence – the hitch is that he apparently desires me as his best man. Now, let me make one thing absolutely clear from the get go: I like this guy. He’s nice and endearing in a strange sort of way, and we do in fact go way back. However, “way back” is really the last time I would be able to seriously consider him a close friend. Not because I don’t like him, mind you, but simply because I have only seen him perhaps ten times in as many years. We have stayed in contact, primarily through his efforts, but that is really all.

The problem is really academic. I cannot magic up a scenario in my mind where I would actually turn down an offer like this. It would be like saying “hey, I’ll come to your wedding and eat your free food but I will not participate in any fashion.” The title is an honor, to be sure, but I can’t help but feel that it’s an honor best bestowed on someone who, perhaps, has met the bride.

In any case, I’m dealing with this particular adversity the same way I always have: by steadfastly doing other things to avoid it. I’ve spent most of the day cleaning up the apartment, which mostly involves moving around crap that isn’t mine. We have a new room mate for next year, Tony, and he necessarily dropped off a lot of stuff before he returned to southeast Michigan for the summer. He did this before Yuta had left, of course.

Yuta has now “moved out,” and I put that phrase in quotes because it is a fucking lie. He left enough stuff behind to fill a small room, which is of course virtually all this apartment is made up of. It had been taking up space in the living room but I have since (today) moved it into Tony’s room along with all of Tony’s things. I have no idea if he wants these things or when he plans to retrieve them, if ever. For now they take up space and gather dust and act as a constant source of temptation for me. It would be wonderful to relieve stress by chucking them over the balcony for a few hours.

Summary: if you’re reading this Yuta, come and get your shit.

Gonna Party Like It’s 6.6.06

Has anyone else heard about this? I guess it makes sense, but I can’t shake the feeling that the whole thing is a little bit paradoxical. I mean, the only reasons 666 has any significance at all are religious…so are religious people the ones throwing the party? *

I’ve spent the last several days working through the apartment, cleaning it up and organizing. Not so much because it was unusually filthy but because it seems to have had a calming influence on my life. In some ways it feels like it’s helped me focus on rebuilding things one step at a time by removing convenient excuses.

I suppose I should step back for a moment and explain that last. Everyone knows that I am a procrastinator – this is not news. However, the specific way in which I procrastinate is, I think, somewhat unique. Rather than ignoring the things I have to do I instead set a series of goals or tasks that I feel I need to accomplish before I can attempt the one I’m avoiding. Inevitably these motivational caltrops are either completely unrealistic or so inconsequential that motivating myself do them is impossible. In either case, the result is successful self-perpetuating apathy.

As you probably guessed the “goals” this time around involved getting this place in order. Initially it was about the painting, moving and organization of my room but as that neared completion I naturally extended it to the rest of the apartment so as to avoid starting in on the rest of the (arguably most important) work.

The upside of conquering the ladder tasks is twofold: one, I obviously lose the convenient excuses. Two, and most useful, I get things done that needed to be done anyway. If I can manage to continue this type of thinking it’s possible that I might actually use the rest of my summer in a way that gets things done.

Crazy, I know.

* I know they’re not. I just felt like commenting on the hilarity of secular-minded people co-opting a religious symbol for a party. I mean, either it means something or it doesn’t.

Whining: Just One Of The Services I Offer

I currently reside at my parents’ place in Novi and will continue to do so until sometime in the middle of next week. Actually, that’s not true – I will be there until I manage to see a Tiger’s game with Pat and Matt. I say this as if planning your life around the schedule of a sports team is a perfectly healthy (and entirely normal) thing to do.

Not that that’s the only reason I came down here, of course. Hanging out with “the crew” has been refreshing and, in a lot of ways, exactly what I needed. Not doing anything specific, but just relaxing with longtime friends in that certain way that you never quite seem to be able to replicate with new ones. If you don’t understand what I mean, there, don’t feel bad; I’m not really sure I do either.

One of the most difficult things to deal with, lately, has been trying to define exactly where I am in the course of my life. That’s not so say that a literal description is necessary, or even desired, but the more I think about it the clearer it becomes that a lot of my recent angst stems from a need to figure out just what the hell I am right now.

I don’t feel like an adult, at least not really, since I don’t have a “real job” and I’m still in college. Neither do I feel like a student, though, given that I’m twenty-three and giving new meaning to the term super-senior. Even social labels like gamer or nerd, terms I once identified quite strongly with, don’t seem to fit anymore. At the risk of mining clichés, it feels like I drifting in some sort of existential purgatory.

Obviously the best way to deal with this sort of thing is to buckle down, bust my ass to finish school properly and move on to whatever it is that turns out to be next. Unfortunately, the feelings of motivation want me to finish right now, which is something that simply cannot happen. The vagaries of university scheduling mean that to finish strong I’ll need to string things out for another entire school year…not a happy thought, exactly, and one that mediates against my sense of urgency.

I suppose the most important part – step one, if you will – is to stop my fucking whining and get on with it.

This is my first Google-Space I-Blog InterWeb America

So uh, Darth made a joke complaining about his student loans. Lawyers don’t have the right. Of course, they might if they feel their imaginary debt justifies the gouging of society later in life… But I guess as long as someone is getting rich off of rich people I’m down. (Plus, some of ‘em put criminals in jail.) Now I’m thinking that pretty much as long as a person is not part of a union they are OK by me. Today’s hatred of unions is brought to you by stories I’ve heard from Ford workers and teachers that can’t be fired because of tenure (this link is just the first reference I found when I Googled my anger).

Now from unions we go to Walmart and from there we go to immigrants and the guy in Philadelphia that had a sign quoting Roosevelt saying “This is America. Please speak English.” or something to the effect. (The train of thought is not necessarily connected but if all the cars keep moving there will be a point where this all blows up in fiery mayhem or “good tv”.) Even though his restaurant never refused service because of a language barrier (he realizes everyone can point) this guy was on my television – just because he put a sign in his window that asked people to speak the national language. I flick people off who drive Hummers every once in a while, and I can’t get no tube-time. Anyway, he was featured on Good Morning America and got to speak his mind on how allowing people to not learn English is a crutch preventing them from achieving great things. I thought, “Damn right.” Then on Drew and Mike I heard their interview with the blind guy that climbed Everest. I thought, yeah, disabled people are way more likely to do amazing things (Forest Gump, DareDevil, the South- Alabama is still allowed to exist, which is amazing.) Of course, giving Juan some crutches after he hopped a fence is like giving him the free, bloated, and inefficient health care that many people are up in arms about, so the only thing I can think of is to change the national language to French and have everyone enjoy the glorious handicap and we can save money on crutches and soap. And as the railroad cars finally slam into the station, Tigers win.

Norm Doesn’t Post. Therefore, Peter Cetera Lyrics:

If you leave me now, you’ll take away the biggest part of me
Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, no, baby please don’t go
And if you leave me now, you’ll take away the very heart of me
Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, no, baby please don’t go
A love like ours is love that’s hard to find
How could we let it slip away?

We’ve come to far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way?
When tomorrow comes and we’ll both regret things we said today

A love like ours is love that’s hard to find
How could we let it slip away?

We’ve come to far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way?
When tomorrow comes and we’ll both regret things we said today

If you leave me now, you’ll take away the biggest part of me
Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, no, baby, please don’t go