Hello, robot babies. (I don't know what that means. Don't ask.)
No musings of any kind really, despite or probably because of my vow to make a "real entry." This was one of those weekends where nothing really happened, and I'm okay with that. It was gray and cold and wet outside, and the traffic was horrid when we did go out. And sometimes nothing happening just makes up for too much happening. Yes, I know that makes no sense whatsoever, but it's true, trust me.
And now it's Dread The Week Ahead time. Sunday night and me and a little chardonnay in a little Flintstones glass (classy, huh?). Christopher's already in bed, not sleeping but catching up on all the comics we picked up this afternoon, and George the Dog is asleep, squinty-eyed and dog-smiling at the end of the bed. (There would be a cute picture of George there, so you could go awww, but um, someone deleted all the pictures of George off his hard drive when he got a shiny new CD-Rom drive.)
We should dance more. We should dance as much as Chris Barzak. I'm jealous of how much he goes dancing. I vow to dance more, and also sing more karaoke so I can be a better back-up singer on Love Shack in the future. I always give my nephews books, too, dearie, you're exactly right. This year I think I'm getting them tickets to the children's theater or something like that. Too many toys rot out your brain. Unless you're adult like us, of course. (Coming soon: a rant about PG-13 and parental monitoring of violent or dark content.)
What we did do yesterday was go have lunch at the bookstore cafe, get snootied at by the bookstore clerk when we tried to turn in some books for credit, buy some early x-mas pressies for people who shall remain nameless, and decide not to go to the movies because I had a raging headache from all the social, holiday madness-style contact. But that was just fine, since we had four new Netflix movies AND had picked up the extended director's cut DVD of The Fellowship of the Ring. Oh, yes, you must see. Every second of added footage is wonderful. I like this version of the movie much better, many more things given significance, characters filled out a bit more, and just more story. Yes, very satisfying. And I want to go to New Zealand.
(Do not watch The Sum of All Fears; it's bad and you won't like it.)
No deep or pretentious thoughts except the one I kept thinking of a lot this last week. Which is to be kind to people. Be as kind as possible, especially to people who mean something to you. Because maybe change is inevitable and evolution is just going to happen and you'll lose some people on the way, guaranteed, but you don't want to give them scars or take on any new ones yourself if it can be helped. Not unless you have to. Yes, scars are important. I have a good friend who always says that she doesn't trust people without wrinkles or who always look the same, year after year, after 10 or 20 years, because, "There's no life on that face." Life does things to you, it's inevitable. I suppose being kind just means being careful about what it is your life does to other people. And to yourself. So, kids, be kind. It's never too late to start. (Quantum physics says so. Probably.) This isn't directed at anyone and it probably isn't even right. It's probably just more bullshit. But bullshit is comforting and that's all this is. Don't take offense. Just: be kind.
It's taking everything in me not to delete that right now. It feels stupid.
But isn't that what this is all about? Risking public stupidity?
Have a good week.
No musings of any kind really, despite or probably because of my vow to make a "real entry." This was one of those weekends where nothing really happened, and I'm okay with that. It was gray and cold and wet outside, and the traffic was horrid when we did go out. And sometimes nothing happening just makes up for too much happening. Yes, I know that makes no sense whatsoever, but it's true, trust me.
And now it's Dread The Week Ahead time. Sunday night and me and a little chardonnay in a little Flintstones glass (classy, huh?). Christopher's already in bed, not sleeping but catching up on all the comics we picked up this afternoon, and George the Dog is asleep, squinty-eyed and dog-smiling at the end of the bed. (There would be a cute picture of George there, so you could go awww, but um, someone deleted all the pictures of George off his hard drive when he got a shiny new CD-Rom drive.)
We should dance more. We should dance as much as Chris Barzak. I'm jealous of how much he goes dancing. I vow to dance more, and also sing more karaoke so I can be a better back-up singer on Love Shack in the future. I always give my nephews books, too, dearie, you're exactly right. This year I think I'm getting them tickets to the children's theater or something like that. Too many toys rot out your brain. Unless you're adult like us, of course. (Coming soon: a rant about PG-13 and parental monitoring of violent or dark content.)
What we did do yesterday was go have lunch at the bookstore cafe, get snootied at by the bookstore clerk when we tried to turn in some books for credit, buy some early x-mas pressies for people who shall remain nameless, and decide not to go to the movies because I had a raging headache from all the social, holiday madness-style contact. But that was just fine, since we had four new Netflix movies AND had picked up the extended director's cut DVD of The Fellowship of the Ring. Oh, yes, you must see. Every second of added footage is wonderful. I like this version of the movie much better, many more things given significance, characters filled out a bit more, and just more story. Yes, very satisfying. And I want to go to New Zealand.
(Do not watch The Sum of All Fears; it's bad and you won't like it.)
No deep or pretentious thoughts except the one I kept thinking of a lot this last week. Which is to be kind to people. Be as kind as possible, especially to people who mean something to you. Because maybe change is inevitable and evolution is just going to happen and you'll lose some people on the way, guaranteed, but you don't want to give them scars or take on any new ones yourself if it can be helped. Not unless you have to. Yes, scars are important. I have a good friend who always says that she doesn't trust people without wrinkles or who always look the same, year after year, after 10 or 20 years, because, "There's no life on that face." Life does things to you, it's inevitable. I suppose being kind just means being careful about what it is your life does to other people. And to yourself. So, kids, be kind. It's never too late to start. (Quantum physics says so. Probably.) This isn't directed at anyone and it probably isn't even right. It's probably just more bullshit. But bullshit is comforting and that's all this is. Don't take offense. Just: be kind.
It's taking everything in me not to delete that right now. It feels stupid.
But isn't that what this is all about? Risking public stupidity?
Have a good week.
posted by Gwenda @ 11/17/2002 10:30:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home