Hm, never did edit this yet. Kinda rough but it did come in at just under 500 words.
I believe in fiction.
More specifically, I believe in stories. I believe that stories have a power to teach us without even feeling like learning. When I was younger, I never questioned my ability to learn something from stories my parents told me about their lives. But I didn’t then feel the same way about fiction.
Made-up stories. Entertainment. Diversions. Fiction was something to escape into, I felt, with very little bearing on the real world.
It wasn’t reading any one book that changed my mind about fiction. It wasn’t reading that changed my mind at all. It was when I started to write fiction.
Suddenly I learned something that would seem blindingly obvious but was not, at least to me: Someone had to write these stories, no matter how fantastic. The author writing about monsters had never actually confronted a monster, and so he wasn’t just inventing the monster but also each character’s reaction to it. I started to ask myself then that fundamental writer’s question: Why write that scene this way?
As a writer I was beginning to ask myself the same question. The lessons I was taking away from fiction were not the sort of what, when, why that as a student I was most familiar with. They were lessons about me, the things I believed, the way I would expect people to react, how I think the world works.
I never had much trouble finding something to learn from a book like Dickens’ “Great Expectations.” But to read Dickens for the sake of entertainment and take away no greater learning than some historical facts is a sin indeed, I soon learned. Moreover, it is not just classics or even serious literature where I learn. Those monster stories, I started to notice, were also full of questions: Fight or flight? To trust the unknown or mistrust? And beyond that a good thriller can teach some practical lessons for the real world, too. For example, should a serial killer have you cornered in your home, don’t run upstairs. You’re only making their job easier.
I am more likely to be moved to great extremes of emotion by fiction than by a biography, or any other work of non-fiction. I am more likely to think back on a novel twenty years from now and know I took something from that novel that has mattered to me. Most of what I take from non-fiction reading has little value unless I should be playing Trivial Pursuit.
Humans have told stories throughout all our time. It is one of those things that makes us human. But even a honeybee comes back to the hive and dances to tell the story of where it found the best pollen. It is my imagination that separates me from a honeybee. My imagination that can recognize fiction but also benefit from it, my imagination that can create a convincing and hopefully valuable fiction. My imagination that I cannot fathom ever being without.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
This I Believe
This is an interesting place to do some light reading.
I swear when I refer you to this link I'm not shilling for the company that employs me, which also happens to be a sponsor of the series. A lot of these essays are good. Even the ones that piss me off.
Because my employer sponsors and promotes it and because I listen to NPR more than is strictly healthy, I've been hearing these for a few months now. Then Diana found something about it in the Sunday paper and has since made it her mission to get me to write one. I'm editing it now, and once it's done I'll post it here. I hope Diana will, too. And anyone else.
I think the most interesting thing about writing one of these essays is the very first step. What do you believe? It's a hard question. Especially when you know you should focus on just one thing, and you have o more than 500 words to explain yourself. What do I believe? Lots of things, really. I believe in competition and live music and friends. I believe in the awesomeness of Nature and also in science. I believe in laughter and I think I at least want to believe in the basic goodness of most people. Then again, I also believe that you can't go home again. I believe in the dark side, not the one George Lucas made famous but the one in all of us.
Of all these beliefs and all the hundreds more I didn't think to name just now, what really defines me? What do you think of when you think of me? A better question: What do I think of when I think of me?
I'll try to get my essay edited and up by the end of the day.
I swear when I refer you to this link I'm not shilling for the company that employs me, which also happens to be a sponsor of the series. A lot of these essays are good. Even the ones that piss me off.
Because my employer sponsors and promotes it and because I listen to NPR more than is strictly healthy, I've been hearing these for a few months now. Then Diana found something about it in the Sunday paper and has since made it her mission to get me to write one. I'm editing it now, and once it's done I'll post it here. I hope Diana will, too. And anyone else.
I think the most interesting thing about writing one of these essays is the very first step. What do you believe? It's a hard question. Especially when you know you should focus on just one thing, and you have o more than 500 words to explain yourself. What do I believe? Lots of things, really. I believe in competition and live music and friends. I believe in the awesomeness of Nature and also in science. I believe in laughter and I think I at least want to believe in the basic goodness of most people. Then again, I also believe that you can't go home again. I believe in the dark side, not the one George Lucas made famous but the one in all of us.
Of all these beliefs and all the hundreds more I didn't think to name just now, what really defines me? What do you think of when you think of me? A better question: What do I think of when I think of me?
I'll try to get my essay edited and up by the end of the day.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Denver Part Two
I could just go on posting pictures of Denver in this blog and never do anything else, but I'll try to limit it to this. For now anyway.
I was hoping to be able to show you some pictures we actually took on this most recent vacation to my native land, but alas my wife ran off to California with my camera. More than likely when she gets back she'll post pictures from both trips.
On Saturday, I decided Diana needed to see Estes Park and more specifically the Stanley Hotel. The Stanley (apart from being very old and famous as a historic place) is best known as the place where Stephen King was staying when he wrote The Shining, which is a book I have some very strong feelings about but I'll spare you all that for now. Anyway, the hotel in the book is called The Overlook but it's based very clearly on The Stanley, which is itself said to be haunted. We even broke the rules and snuck up to the second floor so we could get a picture of Room 217 (where King was staying and the Overlook's most notorious room). Anyway, since I don't have any of the pictures we took, here's a decent shot of the hotel I found elsewhere.
Another thing I miss about Colorado is a local pizza chain called Beau Jo's. They make tremendous thick crust pizza with really thick edges. The dough is made with a touch of honey and they also provide bottles of honey at your table to put on your crust while eating. We took Diana there Friday night and sadly our service was pretty awful, but the pizza was still top notch. This is a small picture, but I hope you'll be able to get the idea about how fabulous these "mountain pies" are.
Here we have a lovely overhead shot of Boulder, home to the main campus of the University of Colorado (that's it in most of the buildings at the bottom). Boulder is one of the prettiest little towns you'll find anywhere. It was also cited in a government study as a place with an extremely high rate of marijuana use. That's right: the government paid someone to do a study that found that marijuana use is higher in college towns. But I digress.
This last one is for Erin. I found a few good pictures of in-the-flesh haven't-bathed-in-weeks Boulder hippies but then I found this and to me it really says Boulder more than even the actual city photo I posted above. This guy is a one man band on Pearl Street (an outdoor mall in Boulder). I just gotsta get me some of those shorts!
I was hoping to be able to show you some pictures we actually took on this most recent vacation to my native land, but alas my wife ran off to California with my camera. More than likely when she gets back she'll post pictures from both trips.
On Saturday, I decided Diana needed to see Estes Park and more specifically the Stanley Hotel. The Stanley (apart from being very old and famous as a historic place) is best known as the place where Stephen King was staying when he wrote The Shining, which is a book I have some very strong feelings about but I'll spare you all that for now. Anyway, the hotel in the book is called The Overlook but it's based very clearly on The Stanley, which is itself said to be haunted. We even broke the rules and snuck up to the second floor so we could get a picture of Room 217 (where King was staying and the Overlook's most notorious room). Anyway, since I don't have any of the pictures we took, here's a decent shot of the hotel I found elsewhere.
Another thing I miss about Colorado is a local pizza chain called Beau Jo's. They make tremendous thick crust pizza with really thick edges. The dough is made with a touch of honey and they also provide bottles of honey at your table to put on your crust while eating. We took Diana there Friday night and sadly our service was pretty awful, but the pizza was still top notch. This is a small picture, but I hope you'll be able to get the idea about how fabulous these "mountain pies" are.
Here we have a lovely overhead shot of Boulder, home to the main campus of the University of Colorado (that's it in most of the buildings at the bottom). Boulder is one of the prettiest little towns you'll find anywhere. It was also cited in a government study as a place with an extremely high rate of marijuana use. That's right: the government paid someone to do a study that found that marijuana use is higher in college towns. But I digress.
This last one is for Erin. I found a few good pictures of in-the-flesh haven't-bathed-in-weeks Boulder hippies but then I found this and to me it really says Boulder more than even the actual city photo I posted above. This guy is a one man band on Pearl Street (an outdoor mall in Boulder). I just gotsta get me some of those shorts!
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Rocky Mountain High
I hinted at it in my earlier concert post, but yesterday it was confirmed Dave Matthews Band will be playing three nights at Red Rocks in Colorado this September. Though these will be the hardest tickets to get ever, you better believe I'm at least going to try.
So, thinking about Red Rocks coupled with leaving for a vacation for Colorado this evening, I've been thinking about the old stomping grounds quite a bit lately. So I thought I'd put up some pictures of the happy place where I grew up and lived before I knew any of you.
You have probably heard of Red Rocks Amphitehatre. You've probably seen pictures of it. But what you don't know is how hard it is to get into that place. Diana got lucky. When she visited, my parents drove straight to the top of the place. Can't do that for concerts. The parking lots are below the venue, so you have to walk up the mountain. And then you get to this ramp, which is steep enough that it can just about kill you. Oh, and it's a good 6,000 feet of elevation there. I almost killed my roommate Vern who was from Louisiana walking him up this thing. And even then you're only at the bottom of the place.
The coolest place in Denver (certainly as a kid) used to be Elitch Gardens which started back int the early days as an actual gardens and slowly became an amusement park. It was the most lush amusement park you've ever seen, though. At least for a desert place like Denver. Then it got too big and they moved it next to downtown to a much bigger place, but it was basically a parking lot with rides and there was no shade anywhere. It took a few years, but that park grew up pretty nice, too. And then Six Flags bought it. Still, to this day they have the Twister II (a replica of the original Mr. Twister from the first Elitch's), which is my favorite wooden rooler coaster anywhere. Can't beat the view, either, downtown to the east and the mountains to the west.
One of the things I have always loved about denver is that it's really a city with a thriving downtown, like New York or Chicago or San Francisco. A lot of places (cougPhoenixcough) in the West don't have that. But Denver's downtown is awesome. Notice the trademark building on the left there. That's called the cash register building by most people (I think it was originally built as a bank headquarters) but wehn I was little I always called it the mailbox building.
This is not my personal favorite of all the golf courses in the Denver area, but its pretty much the coolest one to look at. It's called Arrowhead and in in the southern foothills.
This is the main terminal at Denver International Airport. The tent you see is not the actual roof, but it's there for dramatic effect. Diana think this is the funniest looking building in the world. Back when the airport was new, some PR schmuk said the tented roof was meant to suggest the snowcapped Rockies, which is a line of PR bull I doubt even he believed when he said it. Still, that's the only reason I've ever heard to explain it.
Last one. Downtown is a long street blocked off called 16th Street Mall. It's basically just a long series of buildings and shops and theatres and good stuff. It's mainly pedestrian but there is a free shuttle thats runs the full length of it and sometimes you'll see horse-drawn cabs, as well. Every city needs a downtown distination like this.
I'm feeling sort of guilty and thinking I should go back to work, so that's all for now. Maybe more when we get back.
So, thinking about Red Rocks coupled with leaving for a vacation for Colorado this evening, I've been thinking about the old stomping grounds quite a bit lately. So I thought I'd put up some pictures of the happy place where I grew up and lived before I knew any of you.
You have probably heard of Red Rocks Amphitehatre. You've probably seen pictures of it. But what you don't know is how hard it is to get into that place. Diana got lucky. When she visited, my parents drove straight to the top of the place. Can't do that for concerts. The parking lots are below the venue, so you have to walk up the mountain. And then you get to this ramp, which is steep enough that it can just about kill you. Oh, and it's a good 6,000 feet of elevation there. I almost killed my roommate Vern who was from Louisiana walking him up this thing. And even then you're only at the bottom of the place.
The coolest place in Denver (certainly as a kid) used to be Elitch Gardens which started back int the early days as an actual gardens and slowly became an amusement park. It was the most lush amusement park you've ever seen, though. At least for a desert place like Denver. Then it got too big and they moved it next to downtown to a much bigger place, but it was basically a parking lot with rides and there was no shade anywhere. It took a few years, but that park grew up pretty nice, too. And then Six Flags bought it. Still, to this day they have the Twister II (a replica of the original Mr. Twister from the first Elitch's), which is my favorite wooden rooler coaster anywhere. Can't beat the view, either, downtown to the east and the mountains to the west.
One of the things I have always loved about denver is that it's really a city with a thriving downtown, like New York or Chicago or San Francisco. A lot of places (cougPhoenixcough) in the West don't have that. But Denver's downtown is awesome. Notice the trademark building on the left there. That's called the cash register building by most people (I think it was originally built as a bank headquarters) but wehn I was little I always called it the mailbox building.
This is not my personal favorite of all the golf courses in the Denver area, but its pretty much the coolest one to look at. It's called Arrowhead and in in the southern foothills.
This is the main terminal at Denver International Airport. The tent you see is not the actual roof, but it's there for dramatic effect. Diana think this is the funniest looking building in the world. Back when the airport was new, some PR schmuk said the tented roof was meant to suggest the snowcapped Rockies, which is a line of PR bull I doubt even he believed when he said it. Still, that's the only reason I've ever heard to explain it.
Last one. Downtown is a long street blocked off called 16th Street Mall. It's basically just a long series of buildings and shops and theatres and good stuff. It's mainly pedestrian but there is a free shuttle thats runs the full length of it and sometimes you'll see horse-drawn cabs, as well. Every city needs a downtown distination like this.
I'm feeling sort of guilty and thinking I should go back to work, so that's all for now. Maybe more when we get back.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Of birds and windows
My parents' house in Colorado used to back up to a sizable field where a number of hawks lived. The hawks would chase birds into the large kitchen windows in the back of the house, stunning them, and fly off with lunch. That was gross.
I'm not entirely sure what it is that causes birds to fly into our windows here at our house in Phoenix but they do pretty often. One died and one hurt itself so badly it couldn't move and we ended up having to take it to a bird rescue shelter.
I thought all of this was pretty gross and really quite unfortunate. But then I read this story.
I'm not entirely sure what it is that causes birds to fly into our windows here at our house in Phoenix but they do pretty often. One died and one hurt itself so badly it couldn't move and we ended up having to take it to a bird rescue shelter.
I thought all of this was pretty gross and really quite unfortunate. But then I read this story.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Bloom-shakalaka
Happy June 16, everyone. Happy Bloomsday. Bloomsday, if you don't want to click the link, the the worldwide celebration of James Joyce's novel Ulysses, a book that follows the life of a man named Leo Bloom as he travels around Dublin on - you guessed it, didn't you - 16 June, 1904. Last year was the Centennial Bloomsday, which was quite a big deal, but I know out there somewhere people are celebrating today, as well.
Now, be aware, by celebrating, I mean that probably some universities or other groups of readers are doing readinsg of the book - so maybe using the word "celebrating" was overstating the case a bit.
I read Ulysses in my senior year of college after twice starting it on my own and getting lost on, oh, about the second page. Maybe the second time I made it to the third page before throwing the thing across the room. The professor of that class is a man I loathe, who once even subtly accused me of plagiarism, who (IMHO folks) is pretty much the embodiment of what's wrong with most literary academics. And yet, he got me to read Ulysses, and for that - if nothing else, and really I mean for nothing else - I thank him.
I hope you don't think me conceited when I say that I am proud of having read this book. Reading isn't an interpersonal contest, it's an internal one. Ulysses was something I always wanted to do, and that I very often doubted I would. That I managed to, at the age of 21, not only read the whole thing but even understand a paragraph here and there is something I smile to think about. As such, today makes me happy.
If I think happily about having read Ulysses, it is not because I particularly enjoyed the experience. If the aforementioned (all for you, Tony!) professor is what's wrong with literary scholarship then Ulysses is the wrong thing that brought him about. My problem here is not with modernism or "difficult books" in principal but really with Ulysses in particular. Writers from Virginia Woolf to Ian McEwan have written books quite thematically and structurally similar to Ulysses - both both of those writers did it considerably more succintly and comprehensibly. I don't want to get into too much of an argument here on what I think literature should be, but surely we can all agree that a book no one can understand offers precious little literary value indeed. Ulysses spends far too many pages in this trap of uncomprehensibility. Still, it has moments of absolute brilliance. Moments that remind you that, yes, the same author who wrote one of the greatest stories in literature hadn't gone completely nuts by the time he wrote this novel. I mean, he at least seems to have had afew lucid days.
As such, I will leave you with this, perhaps my favorite of all literary passages, the closing words of Ulysses. May you all enjoy such an evening tonight.
"... and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes."
Now, be aware, by celebrating, I mean that probably some universities or other groups of readers are doing readinsg of the book - so maybe using the word "celebrating" was overstating the case a bit.
I read Ulysses in my senior year of college after twice starting it on my own and getting lost on, oh, about the second page. Maybe the second time I made it to the third page before throwing the thing across the room. The professor of that class is a man I loathe, who once even subtly accused me of plagiarism, who (IMHO folks) is pretty much the embodiment of what's wrong with most literary academics. And yet, he got me to read Ulysses, and for that - if nothing else, and really I mean for nothing else - I thank him.
I hope you don't think me conceited when I say that I am proud of having read this book. Reading isn't an interpersonal contest, it's an internal one. Ulysses was something I always wanted to do, and that I very often doubted I would. That I managed to, at the age of 21, not only read the whole thing but even understand a paragraph here and there is something I smile to think about. As such, today makes me happy.
If I think happily about having read Ulysses, it is not because I particularly enjoyed the experience. If the aforementioned (all for you, Tony!) professor is what's wrong with literary scholarship then Ulysses is the wrong thing that brought him about. My problem here is not with modernism or "difficult books" in principal but really with Ulysses in particular. Writers from Virginia Woolf to Ian McEwan have written books quite thematically and structurally similar to Ulysses - both both of those writers did it considerably more succintly and comprehensibly. I don't want to get into too much of an argument here on what I think literature should be, but surely we can all agree that a book no one can understand offers precious little literary value indeed. Ulysses spends far too many pages in this trap of uncomprehensibility. Still, it has moments of absolute brilliance. Moments that remind you that, yes, the same author who wrote one of the greatest stories in literature hadn't gone completely nuts by the time he wrote this novel. I mean, he at least seems to have had afew lucid days.
As such, I will leave you with this, perhaps my favorite of all literary passages, the closing words of Ulysses. May you all enjoy such an evening tonight.
"... and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes."
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
What Makes Summer Worth It
White Stripes show just announced for August adds yet another to this list of concerts I would like to see this summer ...
Thu / Jun 16 / Marc Broussard / Marquee Theatre
Wed / Jun 29 / Warped Tour – Offspring / Peoria Stadium: Probably not, since Diana will be in San Diego then.
Sat / July 16 / Alanis Morissette / Dodge Theatre: Laugh it up, bitch. Alanis is actually God, remember?
Tues / July 19 / Ray LaMontagne / Marquee Theatre
Sat / July 23 / DMB / Alpine Music Theatre / Wisconsin
Sun / July 24 / DMB / Alpine Music Theatre / Wisconsin
Fri / August 5 / Jack Johnson / Dodge Theatre
Tue / Aug 16 / American Idols Live / Glendale Arena
Fri / Aug 19 / White Stripes / Dodge Theatre
Thu / Aug 25 / Coldplay / Cricket Pavilion
Sat / August 27 / DMB / Home Depot / LA: Have tickets but this is kind of up to Diana (and Erin)
Tues / August 30 / DMB / Cricket Pavilion
Also, DMB at Red Rocks in Denver mid-September is apparently very likely. So hopefully that. And U2 in Vegas in November ... and.
BTW, one of those shows listed above is a joke. Were you paying attention? Or did you just rool your eyes at my questionable taste?
Thu / Jun 16 / Marc Broussard / Marquee Theatre
Wed / Jun 29 / Warped Tour – Offspring / Peoria Stadium: Probably not, since Diana will be in San Diego then.
Sat / July 16 / Alanis Morissette / Dodge Theatre: Laugh it up, bitch. Alanis is actually God, remember?
Tues / July 19 / Ray LaMontagne / Marquee Theatre
Sat / July 23 / DMB / Alpine Music Theatre / Wisconsin
Sun / July 24 / DMB / Alpine Music Theatre / Wisconsin
Fri / August 5 / Jack Johnson / Dodge Theatre
Tue / Aug 16 / American Idols Live / Glendale Arena
Fri / Aug 19 / White Stripes / Dodge Theatre
Thu / Aug 25 / Coldplay / Cricket Pavilion
Sat / August 27 / DMB / Home Depot / LA: Have tickets but this is kind of up to Diana (and Erin)
Tues / August 30 / DMB / Cricket Pavilion
Also, DMB at Red Rocks in Denver mid-September is apparently very likely. So hopefully that. And U2 in Vegas in November ... and.
BTW, one of those shows listed above is a joke. Were you paying attention? Or did you just rool your eyes at my questionable taste?
Friday, June 10, 2005
Wow, I really have not blogged in quite some time now. Which I suppose is a somewhat accurate description of just how exciting my life has been. Plus, Diana beats me to all the fun news, like the new cat, or ... yeah, did I mention the new cat?
Unfortunately, our poor little Mason is sick. Basically, he has a head cold. He is sneezing his little head off, which is just about the saddest thing you've ever heard. Also, his sneezes are louder than Jen's, which is kind of disconcerting from a 10-lb cat. Also he drools a lot, which I would say is pretty much equally sad and gross. The worst part is that he can't be near Murray because we don't want Murray to get sick (goodness knows he had enough problems breathing as it is), so Mason has to be locked in a room. For the past two days he's been in the hall bathroom but I think we're going to move him to the guest bedroom so he at least has a little more room and some natural light. Checking on him is a whole production, it's like a trip to visit the infirmary. Or the quarantine ward. It's sort of reminiscent of a killer virus movie like Outbreak. Except, he's a cat not a monkey. But you get the idea. Get better soon Mason!
So this weekend I have quite a bit planned. On Sunday I am going to tempt fate and forego common sense by playing 36 holes of golf at the TPC. Sunday is still forecasted to be below 100 degrees and may well be the last such day until ... oh, October. So I guess if I'm going to do this sooner is better.
On Saturday night I believe we are bowling with Trish to help her celebrate her birthday, which is awesome. However, I don't know what to get her (*coughthinthintcough*). Diana I think is going to make her a cake, though, and Diana makes a damn good sour cream cake so if Trish gets that maybe she doesn't need anything else. Damn greedy friends. Also, apparently Trish is turning 26, and (no offense to Trish) that freaks me out a little. I am considerably younger than pretty much all of my friends, which I should be used to after always being the youngest one in my grade all throughout school, but I sort of thought I was done with that. Guess not. Wait, though. I think Josh might be younger than me. Is that right? See, there's yet another good reason he needs to move back here. Oh, and I guess Tony can move back, too. (That little joke there would probably be funnier if Tony read this blog but of course he doesn't have Internet access and when he is online I think it's just for email and Madonna news. I would throw in porn but I have a feeling that Kinkos blocks that sort of thing.)
Also today Mr. and Mrs. Smith is opening. Diana and I will probably go see this sooner or later. This is where I'm supposed to be excited because Angelina Jolie is hot and I'm a guy and I should want to go see her look hot in a movie. Except, I really don't like Angelina Jolie. At all. Her lips frighten me. Based on that, I'm tempted to write her off as a butterface, but it's not really that. Even her body is somehow off-putting to me. I think I can recognize why many people think she's hot but for me there is nothing sexually-appealing about her. Of course, this could just still be because of her close association in my mind with Billy Bob Thornton.
I've been at work for like an hour and a half now and I've done ... oh, maybe 20 minutes of actual work. Sadly, though, it's too early to take my lunch break.
Unfortunately, our poor little Mason is sick. Basically, he has a head cold. He is sneezing his little head off, which is just about the saddest thing you've ever heard. Also, his sneezes are louder than Jen's, which is kind of disconcerting from a 10-lb cat. Also he drools a lot, which I would say is pretty much equally sad and gross. The worst part is that he can't be near Murray because we don't want Murray to get sick (goodness knows he had enough problems breathing as it is), so Mason has to be locked in a room. For the past two days he's been in the hall bathroom but I think we're going to move him to the guest bedroom so he at least has a little more room and some natural light. Checking on him is a whole production, it's like a trip to visit the infirmary. Or the quarantine ward. It's sort of reminiscent of a killer virus movie like Outbreak. Except, he's a cat not a monkey. But you get the idea. Get better soon Mason!
So this weekend I have quite a bit planned. On Sunday I am going to tempt fate and forego common sense by playing 36 holes of golf at the TPC. Sunday is still forecasted to be below 100 degrees and may well be the last such day until ... oh, October. So I guess if I'm going to do this sooner is better.
On Saturday night I believe we are bowling with Trish to help her celebrate her birthday, which is awesome. However, I don't know what to get her (*coughthinthintcough*). Diana I think is going to make her a cake, though, and Diana makes a damn good sour cream cake so if Trish gets that maybe she doesn't need anything else. Damn greedy friends. Also, apparently Trish is turning 26, and (no offense to Trish) that freaks me out a little. I am considerably younger than pretty much all of my friends, which I should be used to after always being the youngest one in my grade all throughout school, but I sort of thought I was done with that. Guess not. Wait, though. I think Josh might be younger than me. Is that right? See, there's yet another good reason he needs to move back here. Oh, and I guess Tony can move back, too. (That little joke there would probably be funnier if Tony read this blog but of course he doesn't have Internet access and when he is online I think it's just for email and Madonna news. I would throw in porn but I have a feeling that Kinkos blocks that sort of thing.)
Also today Mr. and Mrs. Smith is opening. Diana and I will probably go see this sooner or later. This is where I'm supposed to be excited because Angelina Jolie is hot and I'm a guy and I should want to go see her look hot in a movie. Except, I really don't like Angelina Jolie. At all. Her lips frighten me. Based on that, I'm tempted to write her off as a butterface, but it's not really that. Even her body is somehow off-putting to me. I think I can recognize why many people think she's hot but for me there is nothing sexually-appealing about her. Of course, this could just still be because of her close association in my mind with Billy Bob Thornton.
I've been at work for like an hour and a half now and I've done ... oh, maybe 20 minutes of actual work. Sadly, though, it's too early to take my lunch break.
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