See, video games are good for you.

I think I want to work for The Onion.

(Greg, this is in our defense to the eye rollings we received the other night at dinner. You know who you are, eye-roller lady.)

Obama

I watched pieces of Obama's address after work tonight. I find it slightly off-putting how many standing ovations the guy got. I mean, yeah, I think he's awesome. And the fact that he has totally energized a huge portion of the population, not to mention the world, is no small feat. He has promised so much and on one hand, it's refreshing to hear someone say, "Enough is enough, let's get our shit together," after... Well... You know.

But.

It's one thing to promise something and another thing to pull through. I know he can't do it alone and that there has to be support from other areas of government and such. But he's still a new relationship. We're still smitten! It's still fresh and exciting and the promise of continued positive change and happiness down the road is almost palpable. But will he sneak a kiss with someone else behind our backs? Will he betray our trust?

Here's to our hope and our future. Here's to the president that swept so many of us off our feet. May he really be the guy we're looking for.

Hey dude, wanna buy an entertainment system?

Almost without fail, every place I've traveled to I've encountered at least one person who wanted to sell me drugs. In Florida, it was "something to tickle my nose with." In Oregon, I think it was your regular run-of-the-mill pot. In Cali, it was heroin. It's become sort of fun to see what I'll be offered next.

While I haven't been offered drugs recently, today as I was leaving the store a van pulled up next to me and a youngish guy leaned out the passenger side window to ask, "Excuse me dude, would you be interested in an entertainment system. I've got an extra one."

My tongue got the better of me and I asked him how much. (I think it was a combination of trying to do something so I wouldn't laugh and trying to be neighborly to someone addressing me.)

His friend leans over the steering wheel to tell me it's worth a few thousand dollars, and I can take a look at it and tell them how much I think it's worth. Original van man tells me he'll give it to me for "hundreds, or make a deal."

Oh, to be a random guy in a parking lot trying to fit dog food and bags into a car without dropping anything and with no visible backup or rent-a-cops in sight.

I also find funny that even had I trusted these upstanding citizens with an "extra" entertainment system to allow me to view their goods and not rob me or beat me or anything, I'd have absolutely no idea how much anything would cost.

Yay random people in vans.

"Who would have thought Hell would really exist? And that it would be in New Jersey?"

So lemme set this up real quick. It's been a long-ass day, and I'm beat. It was "Snapshot" day today, where we were supposed to ask people to fill out surveys and things to send to the state library in a vain attempt to prevent losing funding. We were short staffed so nothing got done, and we were all sort of tired and demoralized.

Enter Guy. Yours truly had the pleasure of stepping up to the desk to help him. It all started out normal enough. Guy comes in. He needs help finding something. I answer and direct and make everyone happy. Easy, right?

Well he apologizes that sometimes he has trouble talking. I assure him it's not a problem and wait patiently while he looks for the right words.

He starts talking about religion and wants to do some research and find different viewpoints on certain issues. I give him his options (reference, internet, online databases, etc.) and he continues to explain. Now, I'm going to get the order of stuff messed up and nothing here is verbatim. But it went something like this:

Guy: "There's this guy who... He thinks he's someone that I am."

Me: "Okay. That could be a problem."

Guy: "You see, because I'm the devil."

Me: ...

Guy: "I talk to God every day. And I know it sounds crazy. And there's this other guy who thinks he's the devil, but he can't be because I'm him."

Me, nodding understandingly: "Okay." I start to search his face to see if I can find any twitches or smirks or anything. Any sign that would show me either A) Dude's, in fact, crazy; B) Dude's pulling my leg; C) Dude's actually telling the truth. In which case... what? Horns? I don't know. Regardless, this devil is rather polite.

Guy: "Lots of people think it's crazy. But I know it isn't. God talks to me." [He threw in something here about angels and archangels, but I didn't catch the whole thing. I was still unsure what exactly to say.] "I'm looking for opposing viewpoints on it. Like what other people are saying about it."

Me, after explaining the available resources again: "I think you're best bet at this library would be the second floor. All of our reference and nonfiction is upstairs, and a librarian can help you with online catalogs and resources."

Guy: "I was thinking of someplace in New York. Or isn't there a Congress Library?"

Here I explain about New York Public Library and try to emphasize how their resources are superior to ours. They'd have a lot more information. I also mention the Library of Congress in DC. Also a good resource, if a little far. He agrees that New York would be good place to start, and I try to suggest he start there.

Guy: "Yeah, I try not to come here too often. Because, like I said, I have trouble talking sometimes. Getting my point across. But God told me to find out. I see him at the place we play pool every morning."

Huh. Far be it from me to doubt God's intentions or devices regarding anything.

Guy: "So I want to try and figure out how to prove I'm the devil. Because I know I am."

At this point, my coworkers spring into action. They've been listening the whole time and after taking care of the patrons--who always come first... even when there are little children and the devil is there standing next to them--seized the first opportunity to extricate me from the situation.

One rings the back phone, the other answers. She hurries out to excuse our conversation and let me know that there's an important phone call I need to take. He apologizes for taking so much time, and I assure him again it's okay (because... uhh... ???). I let the librarians know what they were in for, and sure enough we had to save a couple of them too.

Just another day...

I wonder if he's right..

"Be yourself. Life is precious as it is. All the elements for your happiness are already here. There is no need to run, strive, search or struggle. Just Be."

-Thich Nhat Hanh.

I failed...?

Tomorrow, I'm supposed to have this meeting... To discuss my job and my future. Needless to say I'm not really looking forward to it. More because I can't pin down my feelings rather than actually being concerned about having a talk with the boss.

I've been considering going for an MLIS degree for a little while. The thought of going back to school is a little daunting. But I'm stuck! And lost. I don't know what to do.

So I wanted to be an artist, right? In all actuality I am. Whether I even remember it all the time or not. I'm a Professional Illustrator. Check that! Why don't I have an art job? Good question. I'm actually going to surprise myself and admit it's probably not because I suck. It's probably more to do with the fact that I'm stubborn. (No, I will NOT be a graphic designer.) I'm a tough self-critic. ("I'm just not good enough.") Fear? Yeah. Got some of that too. I stopped myself from jumping at certain things. Of course, I over-extended and stepped in some shit too.

Does that mean I failed? If I'm not an "artist" in my job, does that mean I failed? Does the occasional freelance not count? Or playing around with a painting? Or a portrait? Or any other piece of art I do here and there. Does it make me less creative? Can I be happy doing something else as a job? By doing something else, does that mean I gave up?

Or is it just another avenue? Something else to do while I'm on my way to where I need to be. I can still try to write and illustrate that book, regardless of what my job is. I can still draw and paint and play. Be in a gallery or two here and there. I'm not my job. I never have been. It's just been something to do because it's what we're supposed to do.

I just can't figure out who I'm trying to convince. Me or you. Did I fail? If I did, does it matter?

I'm afraid I'm dwelling too much on the wrong questions and missing the point.

It's funny I actually even posted this. I mentioned it a couple times to a few friends. At least the "what should I do with myself" part. I think I only mentioned the "failure" thing to one or two people, but it didn't get much response. Not that I know what to expect. Haha. Like it's some big secret. "I FAILED!!" Or "I GAVE UP!!" Hahaha, but I don't even know if I did!

I don't know what I'm doing...

Huh.

Audrey mentioned something about this at dinner tonight. And it just so happened to pop up in my Reader. I find it interesting how little control we have over our own stuff sometimes.

Assuming this is true, I think it's scary how easily we're ready to give up our rights. That goes for more than just Facebook. I suppose some of it is just a matter of not reading terms or service or agreements or what have you. As Katie mentioned, it's also probably just part of what we decide we "need." We "need" cell phones. We "need" Facebook. We "need" social networking, and ways to stay in constant contact.

I'm open to argument about this, but it creeps me out more and adds to my resistance against Facebook. Of course, I'm more a part of it than I'd like to admit or more than I even realize. It's pretty interesting if you need to kill 10 minutes. Check it out here.

"You wanna pick me up?"

There's this lady on her cell phone, looking through clothes on a rack in the store. There's assorted merchandise strewn over her cart in a comical fashion. She looks like she tried to put herself together pretty nice to go out shopping. She is also speaking stereotypically loud.

"They're coming for dinner?"
"Are they coming for dinner?"
"I was thinking dinner at like 2 or 3 and you're saying 6 or 7"
"Where were the keys?"
"Did you find the keys?"
"What did you do with the keys?"
"You have the keys?"

Hahahaha. I immediately thought of this and only wished that life was as magical as an animated sitcom.

It's fun to make a scene!

While shopping today, I had the pleasure of coming across Eric and his beautiful friend girl. Whether this was a wife, girlfriend, sister or any other female companion, I do not know. What I do know is said girl is a beast of a woman!

It started in the shoe department. Said beast (let's call her... Portly Girl of the Flushed Face, or Psycho Chick) was huffily trying on a selection of gaudy footwear. I took little notice as I continued to browse until I heard, "Why do you always do that?!"

Now granted, I was only an aisle or two away, so I didn't immediately notice the volume. I kept on moving away in my endless quest to find a pair of shoes when I then hear, "You can't just keep your comments to yourself! You always do that!" This causes a bout of chuckling I conceal by pretending to be enthralled by the bottle opener not-so-concealed in the strap of a pair of sandals.

Then I start to notice how many people are actually in this section of the store. Husbands and wives, older people, mothers with children, etc. Yet, Psycho Chick doesn't seem to be phased by her audience.

"I HATE it when you do that! No one appreciates your attitude!"

I see Eric hustle away with the shopping cart. I hadn't heard him open his mouth once and figured it was probably best for him to get the hell out of there. But it wasn't over. From across the store now we all hear, "YES OR NO!?! IT'S A SIMPLE QUESTION!!!"

At this point I'm visibly laughing. Honestly, even if Eric is a total jerk, do you need to scream and shout across an entire store? Some of the startled customers are now looking at me laugh at Eric and Psycho Chick. None of them seemed to find it as funny as I did and a couple seemed to think my laughing was worse than her public display of anger.

I wonder if that makes me a bad person. But I'm pretty sure I'll get over it.

Oh yeah!

I'm pretty much anti-Hallmark holidays unless they involve a party (read: a fun time with family or friends) or unique fundraising opportunity (rock on Relay bake sales). And on top of that, this particular one has never been on the top of my list, thank you very much adolescent rejection.

But I feel this is appropriate for today:

"Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable."
-The Wizard of Oz

Of course, we're a special lot, aren't we? Which is why the Tin Woodsman's response is apropos:

"But I still want one."

Gotta love the classics! Rock it, kids.

Judge!

I received a phone call today from the local arts center in town... And they asked me to be the judge in the upcoming show! That's right. Not a judge, the judge.

Wow.

Granted, I might have to finagle my way out of work for this (who cares?), but now I feel like I should brush up on some of my crit skills too. There will be both professional artists and amateurs in the upcoming show. Either way, I doubt I will know many of them. Which is a good thing when you're trying to objectively judge something that is influenced heavily by subjective impulses.

I think I talked her into three categories instead of just one best-in-show piece. The winners don't get any money (and neither do I!), just recognition. So why not? Plus, I think it's difficult to weigh an oil painting against a water color or a mixed media piece or even sculpture. It's like asking, which is a better piece, Starry Night or the Pieta. Okay, well it's not exactly like that. But you get what I'm saying.

Can't wait--should be exciting!

Depressants

Major drug breakthrough found in Despondex.

Check it out.

;)

Beach Bum

I've made a very important decision. If there is indeed reincarnation, I am going to put in for "Beach Bum." Maybe even "Beach Bum Surfer Boy." Now, I won't be picky beyond that.

I either ask to be born in Southern California. Preferably near the beach. I'll grow up playing in the sand and sun. I'll accept whatever stereotypes that come with the territory. I'll go bleach blond even. Whatever. Go running with my dog on the beach. Surf. Laugh. Sun. Beer. Surf. Smile. BBQ tossed in there once in a while. Deep conversations under the stars. Pretty chill, right?

Or. I'll take being born in Australia. Also, near the beach. We can stick surfing in there again. (I don't know where this sudden fascination with surfing has come in... was it really watching those dudes surf in the body suits in the 50 degree weather?... Maybe it just looks fun. And I don't have the balance for it in this life. Haha.) Beach bumming. All of the above. And my life-long dream would be to come to America. Because... it's nice to have a dream. Plus I'd have that awesome accent. Sick!

How's that?

(Notice how Hawaii is between these two possibilities. Just in case we have to go with some sort of average-between-the-two outcome, I will settle for the in-between of Hawaii. As if I think I'd ever utter the words "I'll settle for Hawaii" in any context whatsoever. Ever. In any life.)

Uh-oh...

No matter where you go or what you do, you live your entire life within the confines of your head. ~Terry Josephson

$#*%! haha.

Creatively speaking

I have scads of friends who just ooze talent. Whether it's visually artistic, intriguingly audible, culinarily mouthwatering or soul-searchingly thoughtful, I can't think of one person who doesn't have something awesome going on. It's pretty sweet.

I currently have two friends who are hard at work on music projects. Chad, who recently solidified a band and has written some of the coolest songs I've ever heard, is going to be opening for a U2 cover band in the Boston area. He's been in other bands, played in festivals and coffee shops and even tapped through the Zelda theme for me once on his keyboard. He wrote one of my favorite songs of all time, Rain, which you can get on iTunes here. I don't know if I ever told him this, but I listen to that song when I'm bummed out (it's perfect) or when I'm happy (because it's actually sorta perfect for that too) and it's easily made half my playlists on iTunes. When I listen to it, I get the same kind of feeling as when I listen to Let's Dance To Joy Division by The Wombats. Where things are just messed up and you're screwed and there doesn't seem to be anything left to do. But it doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter.

And it reminds me of one of my favorite memories from school: Running around and playing in the pouring rain. If you've never done that, you really need to put it on your list of things. (Check out Chad's blog.)

The other vocalist in the song, my friend Dylan, is currently in the process of producing his first album. He's been pretty good at keeping an online production journal which I also recommend checking out. His latest entry was pretty deep! This should also be on your list of things to get. I'm a pretty big fan of acoustic music, and Bicycle On The Ice is my acoustic Van Gogh in this album. (I'm going to be thrown off when I listen to it and don't hear the infamous "doorslam" IM sound that I've grown accustomed to on the demo version.) I know how much it means to this kid to actually be DOING this, and as with Chad, I couldn't be prouder of him for doing it.

I'm excited for them. And while I'm sad I'm not a part of their process, I wanted to give 'm a plug. In case you happened to stumble upon this blog, do yourself a favor and check them out. You won't be disappointed.

On a clear day...

I caught the end of a Scrubs episode before. It was from their second season, entitled My Philosophy. Part of the episode deals with a patient who is waiting for a heart transplant and her interaction with J.D. The patient, Elaine, has come to terms with the two possible outcomes, and she's not afraid of dying. What bothers her is the waiting.

J.D. asks her what she thinks death is like. She hopes it's like a big Broadway musical, with people dressed up and singing and going out with a flourish. J.D. on the other hand thinks it's more like a game of dodge ball, where you get nailed by the big guy, wake up in the hot nurse's office and "when she leans in to put that bandage on your nose, you get the feeling that something could actually happen if you just take the chance and bury your face in her knockers."

Towards the end of the episode, Elaine does die. As the doctor and nurses try to revive her, the scene fades to Elaine in Broadway-esque dress and she starts to sing "Waiting For My Real Life To Begin," (by Colin Hay) followed by the rest of the Scrubs cast. I actually know the song (and it almost made it onto my playlist!) but I don't remember hearing it in the context of this episode. It's poignantly sad and beautiful at the same time.

I love the lyrics. And how that one part utilized in the episode can relate to death not being the end, but the possibility of it being a new beginning. Maybe even a more important beginning?

"Don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin"

And as Elaine sings, "On a clear day, I can see... see a very long way," the scene fades back to the bed and we lose her.

Chills. Not for the loss perhaps, but for the pregnant possibility...

I wish I was right there, right now...

This is one of the coolest places I've ever been--on top of Pike's Peak in Colorado.

The view is breath-taking. The feeling is amazing.

And I would give almost anything to be on that spot right at this moment.

"Didn't you used to be someone who meant something to me?"

This is a little shout-out to someone special. Someone who in fact did mean a great deal to me.

I won't tell you who it is because it doesn't really matter. I doubt she'd ever stumble upon this blog, especially since I seem to have become such poison to her.

One thing I will never understand about relationships is how difficult they can be to maintain. You'd think a species that depends so much upon making connections and finding a sense of belonging would be a little bit better at not fucking things up and making them so complicated.

I loved you and counted on you. You were there when I needed you, and you cannot say that I was ever absent when you needed me. I was there for drunken tirades, for a shoulder to cry on, for support both vocal and silent. I defended you when you let me or when you weren't there to defend yourself. I would have done anything for you and lots of times I did.

You lied to me when I asked if we were okay. You lied to me when you told me nothing was wrong. You betrayed my confidence. I knew it for a long, long time, but I didn't accept it until recently. When someone else told me.

I guess I have to thank you for that slap in the face. Gotta keep on my toes, right?

I'm sort of sad that I'll never know which of my many flaws turned you away. Apparently your flaws are more bearable than mine. Good for you! (While that sounds condescending, I promise I don't mean it that way.)

There's an angry part of me I haven't learned to control yet who looks forward to the almost inevitable day our paths will cross. He looks forward to a smile and a quip along the lines of that quote. "Hey, didn't you used to be someone who meant something to me?"

Truth is, I'll probably never say that to your face. You let me down and hurt me. But I guess I still love you. And for whatever reason, if you ever thought you needed me for anything in the future, I can't imagine why I wouldn't be there for you.

For what it's worth I'm sorry it ended the way it did. I hope if you think of me, it's about what you loved and not about what you hated.

That's what I'm trying to do.

Doing my part to combat school violence.

Enter middle school-aged boy and slightly older sister. The chap would like to check out some books and hands me a card barely held together by some scotch tape. He kind of sheepishly smiles and explains how he lost it, and a friend found it but proceeded to bend it as he shoved it in his pocket.

I chuckle at the little fellow, tell him to be more careful, and proceed to check out his material. That is when I start to overhear the conversation he's having with his sister.

"He told me to hit him back, but he wasn't there," he said.
"You should have hit him. What are you going to do?" she asked.
I missed most of the next part of it but it sounded like an uncle told him to hit this kid that apparently started with him first.

Enter yours truly.

"So, you know you really shouldn't be hitting people, right?" I ask the kid.
"Yeah..." he replies.
"I don't want to tell you to disobey your elders or anything, but you should never resort to physical violence. You should be the bigger person."
"I know," he tells me.

Now, your boy mikaroni doesn't know what to do. Because it really isn't any of his business. Plus, the last thing he needs is some crazy, jacked-out dude coming after him because he tried to talk his family out of getting into a fight.

So what do I do?

I offer a deal. Albeit a small one, and one that I sadly expect my little friend to break.

"I'll make you a deal," I tell him. "You promise me you won't hit that kid, and I'll give you a new library card for free." (After all, who doesn't want a free library card?)

He asks if I'm serious, and I assure him that I am. I even take the new card out and show it to him.

He finally agrees with an "OK."

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

Big sister finally chimes in with a "He asked you to promise, you have to say you promise." He actually does.

Haha, rock on kids. Maybe I didn't really make a difference, but I at least made him think. Even if it was just for a little bit.

Of course, the kid and his entire family owe wicked fines and I got into a bit of trouble later. But it was worth it. :)

They really do arrest you.

This lady came into the building today to settle some unpaid fines. Actually, she had a book she hadn't paid for. From 1999 or so.

Now, on the surface, this isn't really such a big deal. In the great scope of life, one piddly little book doesn't really mean a whole lot. However, if you really think about it, library books are city property. They belong to everyone. So when a person checks out a library book and never brings it back. he sort of steals from the city. If someone decides to spill her frappuccino with whipped cream and drizzled caramel topping on a library book, she has defaced city property.

If you or someone you know decides to steal something that is already free (or are just too damn lazy to return a book, even after a year or 10), we send you a letter or an email to ask you to bring it back. If you don't listen, a couple weeks later we call you and say, "Hey, it happens, you have some overdue stuff. Just drop it off." When you ignore us again, we send another letter pretty much telling you that your stuff is assumed to be lost and you have to pay for it. Then, if you are so bold as to ignore THAT, we send you a certified letter and take you to court. You stole.

Now, lots of times, people magically find these lost items. Or they find their way into the library and pay. Thing is, once a court date is set, you sort of have to go to court. You can't just ignore that. It's frowned upon. And not only do you waste the judge's time (and the library's time and the city's time), but they also put a bench warrant out for you. That means when you get pulled over for speeding, they can arrest you. For a library book.

Enter patron. Let's call her Jane. Several years ago, Jane checked out a book. An atlas of flowers or some such. Long story short, Jane never brought said book back. She ignored our attempts to remedy the situation, ignored the certified letter and court date. When Jane was pulled over for speeding, the officer saw the bench warrant. Jane was arrested. She had to spend the night in jail because she couldn't post bail.

So today Jane decides to come into the library and tell us it was quite an inconvenience to be arrested. To her credit, she didn't really scream or yell. She did however deny being sent correspondence regarding the lost item. Jane also requested we take into account the bail she posted and lower her debt. (We don't do that either.)

Moral of the story: Libraries really are there to help you. They are amazing resources, whether you are reading for fun, doing research, renting movies and music, checking email away from home, looking for a job... They are free. Does one honestly need to abuse that privilege? Are people like Jane too lazy to just bring a book back? Or I get it. Maybe Jane was very busy. For 10 years.

Why so serious?

I think The Dark Knight is one of the best movies I've seen in a while. I had the pleasure of seeing it again last night in iMax with a couple friends who hadn't experienced it like that.

Totally amazing. Plus I was like a little kid going into the theater. I think that amused them. But it's important to portray the little kid vibe sometimes. Who wants to be some stuffy old person anyway?

The first time the Joker growls those words "Why so serious?" gives me chills still.

Next movie to look forward to: Watchmen. Also coming out in IMAX. Very good indeed.