Filed under: austin
Back to the gym — finally. But this is not a post about working out.
At Planet Fitness (the Judgment Free Zone!) the other day, I was thinking…a lot.
Not unusual or remarkable I know. Everyone is in their won world at the gym, white earphones plugged in, televisions aglow,everything in the gym moving back and forth rhythmatically like the vibrating of an oasis in the desert. It’;s easy to disappear into you own little world.
Okay but so here’s what I was thinking about. I was thinking about how much I was thinking. I know, so postmod, right?
there were ten televisions, each on its own channel. I could feel my eyes constantly darting back and forth. What was Campbell Brown saing aboutthe two journalists Clinton rescued? Why is the girl in the bikini yelling at the spiky-haired guy with the frosted tips on VH1? Why is that gay black couple painting the walls of their home that horrible color of fuchsia on HGTV? What was the guy in the black hat doing to that woman on the spanish language channel?
I could feel my neck moving constantly as I hit the fifteen minute mark on the elliptical, nodding my head to the beat of this awesome song my iPhone had chosen to play for me–a girl was singing about Fran Drescher and other weirdness to a really hypnotic beat. I glanced down from the wall of televisions to see what band this was (Fight like Apes, highly recommended), and it occured to me–I was really giving my mind a workout too.
As I was pumping away on the elliptical machine, sweat dripping off my nose every few seconds, not only was I putting my body to the test (for the first time in a month shutup no judging) but I was swinging my attention left and right, shooting glances in a mad and random spray all over the room like a eleven-year-old with an uzi. And my brain was keeping up just fine. “What’s that? Who is that? Why is she upset? How much is that guy lifting?”
Either that or I am just totally ADD. Wouldn’t be the first time I heard that, either.
Filed under: fun
You know it’s been a long time when you go to your blog and can’t remember your login info. That’s embarrassing.
WordPress didn’t even recognize me. It just looked at me, pitching me to join.
“Sign up now!”
“Uh, I HAVE joined. I’ve been with you guys for like five years.”
Am I the only person in the world that gets embarrassed by a website–when I am alone?
Sheesh.
A while back, I got tired of the morning radio DJs. Bobby Bones and his crew were so ignorant they made my 19-year-old classmates (who bitched that the Friday before the UT/OU football game should be a holiday, cause “who would go to class anyway?”) look like an MIT graduate, and Jason and Deb only talked for about three minutes before I always had to hear the same five songs (“I can ride my bike with no handlebars…” does get old eventually). But nobody wants to wake up to a buzzing digital alarm. So NPR got the nod.
It was election season, every story was about Obama or McCain, with which I was obsessed at the time, so I was in heaven. I came into work more informed, saved time on reading political blogs, was able to make astute observations and talk cogently with coworkers about the whole thing. And when the election was over, I noticed that NPR had great news stories in the morning. Most times, if it wasn’t about something I was already interested in, I was by a couple minutes into the story.
I was hooked. NPR had me and has never let me go.
I don’t spend a lot of time in my car. Ten minutes to work, ten minutes home, a few minutes on the weekends. Austin is not a big town, and there’s not a lot of commuter time. So my CDs don’t get much play, and there’s rarely an occasion to change the station. (“A Prairie Home Companion” being the exception – it’s a show made for old people, right? It is, right? I’m not missing something, am I?) What that means is that when the Janx says, “you know the lyrics to that new song that’s all over the radio?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. At all.
And when I look on MTV, I have no idea who I’m watching. Celebrity blogs, which used to be one of my favorite hobbies, seem to be about a bunch of strangers doing stupid things. It feels like my finger is no longer on the pop cultural pulse anymore and it’s a weird new feeling. Like I’m a step closer to saying “kids these days” and NOT meaning it ironically.
These days I know about the political changes in Russia, what our next step is in Afghanistan, how the rebuilding of China is going after the earthquake last year, how violent the Mexican drug cartels have become. But don’t ask me what F-level actress Criss Angel was last seen with (that is, if he’s even relevant anymore) or whether Lindsey Lohan and her lesbian DJ girlfriend are still together (that is, if LiLo is even still a lesbian). I have no idea. At all.
The question that has arisen from all this is: does this make me a better person? Or worse? Am I an old fogey now or just better informed about the more boring things in the news? And is there a way I can be up on both?
I used to be the guy who was up on every stupid celebrity faux paux, knew what movies were coming out and when, and could go on at length about why one dumbass gaffe was infinitely funnier then another. Or at least, that’s who I fancied myself. And that guy would not only have known about the lyrics to the newest Britney Spears song, he would have a hilarious riff about how stupid it was. Now I am the guy who shrugs and says, “I only listen to NPR,” and kills every conversation with my pretension.
But ask about defense spending in the new budget, and we can talk about that.
Just seems like the only people I can talk about that with are the NPR newscasters. And they just don’t seem to want to listen.
Filed under: Uncategorized
For no reason, I saw this blog about a meme, wherein I heard of this weird thing people seem to be doing–
1 – Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “Random Article”
or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:RandomThe first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 – Go to “Random quotations”
or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.3 – Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”
or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.4 – Use Photoshop/MS Paint or similar to put it all together.
5- Post it in the comments! (Using Imageshack or any photo hoster)
So because I was bored at that particular moment (never mind all the things I should have been doing), I did my own. And here, for no reason other than it’s just sitting on my desktop and I ought to just delete it but would hate to have done the whole deal for nothing [because I certainly didn't put it on that blog]), it is:
Thank you and good night.
The iPhone tells me my memory is almost full. Time to delete some pictures or video. Looking through pics shows me that A) I have many pictures on here I do not need to hang on to, and B) I have done a few things since I disappeared from the blogosphere. Herewith the proof of an interesting (if only semi-documented) life:
Ran from a metal dinosaurus one time...
Saw a pretty sunset (taken while driving. Not bad, huh?)
Got my eyes photographed (this is the back. Of my eyes. Don't ask me how that's possible. Science!)
Got me some glasses.
Watched some pro wrestlers (then saw 'The Wrestler').
Went to a D-League basketball game. (This is the HEB Grocery Bag. There is no team called the Grocery Bags.)
Nice to put it out there. Now I can delete them which will leave me more room for ‘This American Life’ Podcasts.
As of this last holiday, the Moms has officially stopped being my storage space provider. “You have your own house, with your own attic,” she said to me. The logic was clear. Cut to three cobweb-encrusted boxes with my unique insignia scribbled on the sides taking up all the space the presents had taken on the way up.
A few weeks later, I had a night home alone. To myself. I opened the boxes and let the nostalgia take me over. All night long.
A thousand letters later (I used to write a lot of letters, I realize now. An unusually high amount which I attribute to having a job answering phones that didn’t ring all that much sometimes.) and a bunch of looking up old friends on facebook/myspace, I came across the Big Find — a notebook of my early compositions.
The moms is not known for hanging on to things long-term. I don’t know what ever happened to the probably $500 worth of GI Joes I owned back in the day and still sometimes wish I had, and anything I didn’t box up myself (i.e. anything I wanted to keep before I went to college) is pretty much Lost In Space. So this was a big deal. We’re talking an Indiana Jones-”do-you-know-what-this-means-we-thought-this-was-lost-FOREVER”- type find. I flipped through the pages excitedly.
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First thing I realized: I have never been able to draw. And I was an awkward kid. Cause as bad as that drawing is, that’s more or less what I looked like. i immeditely pitied my young self.
If that was the bad news, this was the good news — I wrote stories. Fun, entertaining stories that you wouldn’t expect from a third grader. I used words like “however,” that seem ahead of the reading level. And my stories were about Martians and dragons and ghosts, the origin of Thanksgiving from the point of view of a cat, Christmas as experienced by a Christmas tree — interesting takes on traditional stories. I was impressed with my creative third-grade self.
Also — had a bit of a sense of humor, albeit a little immature:
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(I vividly remember trying to decide what word I could use to talk about dog crap and not get me in trouble. I thought “poop” was too strong, whereas “poot” didn’t really mean anything but still conveyed the intended meaning. I stand by my decision.)
Clearly our teacher (I believe this was Mrs. Cook) asked us to also illustrate our stories, which I tried valiently…
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(This was Captain.)
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An eskimo. Though there is no story about an eskimo in this notebook.)
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(holiday pics, obviously)
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(NO idea. NONE.)
Did I mention how I couldn’t draw? Those are the ones you can tell what they are.
The interesting thing is how though reading all of Young Me’s stuff, it seemed like it was some other person, it also seemed like it was…me. Just younger. I know that sounds retarded, but it felt so “yep, that’s me” at the same time as it felt so “what was that kid THINKING at that time?!”
Young Me was a good kid, though…
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…if a little pathetic.
What was truly jarring, however was this one:
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This is a biography of…Matt F. He was born in Abilene, Texas, and was always a strange kid. He had the worst memory on the block. Sometimes he couldn’t remember what happened 2 minutes ago. It never stopped him, however, from achieving his goals. For example, he could always write stories well. He always had time for anything and everything. He wasn’t a very reliable person though. He always forgot to do anything asked of him. People always referred to him as “strange.” But he could always set his mind to things.
That’s me NOW. That’s the me that Young Me created. That’s who I am. For Realz.
Not that I’m complaining. A tip of the hat to Young Me, actually. Cause I think he did a good job. But I need to remember to keep being that guy. And set my mind to things more often.
Hi there Overthinking. My blog.
Wow, this is awkward.
Been a while since I last saw you. How’ve you been? You look good.
Really. I mean, you are one good-looking blog. Why did we stop hanging out all the time?
…Right. Oh, yeah, right. I started writing on those “other” blogs. ,,,And that new writing job. Right. Yeah, I remember.
Ok Ok! I said I remember!
Well, anyway, I was thinking maybe if you had some free time…and you still wanted to…we could work together a little bit. Like old times. I mean, I’m not writing for one of those other blogs anymore. So…
Long-deserved explanation.
So I mentioned my new job, where I actually get paid to write, and put a headline with an ultra-corny pun in the title, and then I just left. For six months.
No good excuse for that. Life, you know? Just…writing for money (banks and bank stuff, which isn’t super exciting, but is a kind of unusual challenge, and I’ve had to learn quite a bit, and practice my selling-things-that-don’t-sell-themselves skills, which is a valuable skill), blogging for tea (writing ABOUT tea FOR a blog, to be more clear; which is also something I have to practice more when people actually pay me. Seems they expect clarity), writing snarky blogs about movies for a local website full of supercool hipsters (still waiting to be exposed as the high school nerd I still am deep down, but starting to think that the hipsters of today were ALL that kid).
And on top of all that staring-at-a-computer-trying-to-write time, I have also tried to take my dogs to the park, ride my bike, work out once in a while, go to a party here and there. You know, have a life.
So sorry if I’ve been a bit neglectful. Just left you with a stupid pun at the top of your screen to alienate everyone, and turn you into one of those outdated blogs that talk about whether Paris and Nicole could work out their friendship or why Britney and K-Fed are/aren’t the perfect couple.
My bad.
But like I said, I have a little bit more free time, and I always enjoyed writing here. And Lord knows there’s new things to talk about:
The world is in economic crisis, vampires are the new zombies, Dr Horrible broke the internet, and of course, this amazing nation opted for hope and elected an African American president that promises to change the way we think about politics.
So change is in the air.
Talk more soon, mkay?
Oh, and I forgot to mention that Bret Michaels is touring with a gaggle of bizarro stripper-skanks still trying to find “true love” (he sent one girl home last week cause she was celibate). So much to talk about!
Filed under: austin, mood, news | Tags: austinist, blog, tea, twitter, work, writing
is it wrong to blog from work? it seems like a lot of people do it. i haven’t really ever had a job where i was sitting at a computer all day. in a cubicle. under a fluorescent light. with nothing to do but surf the internet.
it’s not usually this way. there’s usually something that needs writing. writing about banks and checking accounts and APYs (not APRs–no sir!), then coming home and writing about tea, and occasionally creating wacky machines like this one when i ought to be writing about…tea. or film events in austin.
the fact is, people want me to write now. they pay me to do it, even. which makes me want to come home and NOT write. ironic, huh? the more they ask me to write, the less i want to.
but here today, there’s no one asking me to write anything, and it has been pointed out that i have not written here in a while. and while i know writing about writing is not the most scintillating topic, it might take me a while to get my mindset back to “noticing blogworthy stuff” so that i have it in my arsenal when i have the time to write here.
meantime, twittering is the new blogging. check me out here.
so somewhere in the recent past, i grew up a little.
it sort of happened suddenly. if that kind of thing can “sort of” happen.
it was decision time. what was i doing in austin? i was running out of money, i had been a college graduate for eight months, and was still as unemployed as ever. was it time to move, to see the world, to teach english? to uproot b and our five (FIVE!) dogs? what country would take all of us? what would b do for an income? and what about (gasp) kids? when was THAT going to happen?
there was talk. the kind of talk that scares me. and her. but we talked about it. and i realized–i like austin. i don’t want to take five dogs all over the world so we can see the world. and it’s actually easier to truck kids all over kindgom come than it is dogs. so this is not necessarily my last chance to travel. there was still a future in which i would have ample time to play–kids or no.
so with a deep breath, i accepted it. i’m staying in austin for a good long while. we ALL are.
what that meant is it was time to get a Job. not “idly send out a couple of resumes a day to whatever i see, and if i don’t feel like it send out four tomorrow.” it meant “figure out why you’ve sent out about 200 resumes and gotten about four responses, and only one interview.”
which i did.
i rewrote my resume. i told b. to watch for anything at her advertising job. and two days later i was working as a copywriter and leaving early to go to a job interview at another marketing company.
and that marketing company hired me.
i start monday. which means i have this week (which is almost over) to get my affairs in order. whatever that means.
so i take the dogs to the vet. i clean up around the house, do some laundry, buy a few new shirts and pants so that i won’t be the guy in the same shirt every day. i should probably mow the lawn, and do those other things i always put off. and i take a deep breath and get ready for the 8:30 to 5:30 workday.
oughta get out to barton springs one more time…
i don’t know if it was worth it, but this poster made me laugh and then I had to have it in my phone.
the price i paid: it did slip out of my hand and touch the bathroom floor.
on the bright side, it didn’t go into the toilet. so there’s that.
