Resolutions

This is why resolutions suck. I have always been anti-resolution, because they set you up for failure. I learned this early in my life, as is evidenced by an old picture frame I have. I was given this frame as a birthday present when I was 8 or 9. On the back, there were lines for the owner to write a nice little bit about the picture, or what have you. Here is what I wrote (mind you, I was eight): "I will try to change this picture every year. But I probably won't be able to." What an attitude for an eight-year old, eh? Jason claims this says a lot about me. I don't know where my attitude came from; even I think I was a little young to be so fatalistic (okay, maybe pessimistic, although I prefer not to think of it that way). In fact, this still appears to me to be mostly just realistic...

But back to resolutions, and the trouble they cause. Like the one I made last week that said I was going to think of something wonderful and witty to post on my blog, and do so regularly and with vigor. Yep, I set myself up. Even before I got Jessie's snide little comment (teasing, I'm teasing you, Jessie), I was thinking the same thing. Another resolution down the drain. Is there anything more depressing? Even when I was eight, I was wise enough to know the value of giving yourself an out, a loophole, an admission of possible failure right up front.

Oh, and by the way, this is my sorry excuse for a post this week. Someday I'll have something to say...

Bad Blogger, Bad!

I am a rotten blogger. At first, I felt like I had all kinds of things to say. Now, when I look at this little window, and the Title bar, I go blank. It just doesn't seem like anything I might have to say will be that interesting. Especially since lately, I feel like I do nothing but whine, with really no right to do so. And right now, I think I'm whining about whining, and that's really pathetic. This weekend, I will come up with a plan. A plan for a fresh, new, exciting blog, one with wit and candor, and all that crap. Of course, I will be doing this after I revise seven essays for creative non-fiction, and write a short story. If there is anything left of my brain at that point, I will think about the blog. Of course, my blog may be imminently more interesting after I lose my mind. So there's a plus.

Workshop Love

Has anyone else ever gotten this in a workshop critique:

"Overall, even though I didn't quite understand the storyline, or the point, the detail made it interesting to keep reading."

It's a first for me. I have to appreciate his honesty, and can't really be offended. At least he liked the detail...

Content Today

A friend told me the other day, "you always talk about how you hate people, but inside you're just a big softie." Or something to that effect. She's right. I don't hate people. I am easily annoyed by them, by people as a whole, in groups, as a general term. I am just as easily moved by them (that is the 'softie' part). Annoyance is part of my basic make-up. A teacher wrote on an essay of mine once, "I love your annoyance with the world." She probably thought it was youth, or angst. But that is just how I am, whether I like it or not.
I've always wished I was one of those people who woke up with thoughts like, "Today is a brand new day, and it's going to be great!" I wake up in a stupor and walk around in a fog of immediacy. I can't think it's going to be a great day, because I'm not thinking that far ahead yet. And because, honestly, I don't know what kind of day it is going to be yet. People say it's all about attitude (these would be the people that annoy me), but I'm just not sure that with my attitude I can control the events of a day.
Here's the point of all this: Today I find myself content. I have only been awake for about an hour, but already so many things have made me happy already. Little things. Cool morning, smell of spring soil, an e-mail from my brother (compared to whom I am positively chatty), the amazing and somehow satisfying massive tires on a tractor outside the building, a snatch of classic rock from the construction next door, a poem from a friend. I like these things. They make me happy, right away, today.

Slackjaw

I just finished reading Slackjaw, by Jim Knipfel, again. It's been a few years, but it's just as funny and sad as I remember. For those of you who don't know the book, Jim Knipfel writes (wrote?) a series of articles called "Slackjaw," as well as a few non-fiction books, and now The Buzzing, a novel. This guy is like Charlie Brown with really bad karma. I think the Chicago Sun-Times says it best, on the back cover of the book: "For a guy who has attempted suicide several times, he sure is funny."
But this book isn't about his suicide attempts (or at least, not mainly about them). Nor is it about his time spent in a locked psych ward (for that experience, check out his book Escaping the Nairobi Trio- also worth a read).
No. This book is about him slowly going blind due to genetic disease. Could things get any worse? Yes. Add drinking problems, suicidal tendencies, a love of reading and writing, an ill-advised marriage, rage seizures, and the Nihilist Worker's Party, and you've got the general idea.
Somehow, through being brutally honest and absolutely refusing to be melodramatic, Knipfel emerges heroic, wielding his Blind Man cane (as he calls it), which, when you try to beat someone with it, goes flubbity flubbity.
Kinda puts things in perspective. I feel like an asshole for bitching about my shoulder.

Should I be flattered?

You Are Thai Food

Trendy yet complex. People seek you out - though they're not sure why.

What Kind of Food Are You?