Boredom vs. Relaxation

How is it that sometimes there's nothing better than having absolutely nothing to do, while other times you can have a million things to do and still feel bored out of your mind? Walking to work this morning, I could tell this was going to be one of those days where boredom creeps into everything I do. I'm bored as I sit at work, busting my ass to get everything done so that I can get out of here on time tonight. And I'll feel bored tonight when I'm hanging out with the girlfriend. And I'll feel bored tomorrow when I'm running in the park. And I'll most certainly feel bored when I force myself to sit down at some point this weekend and do my taxes... Ugh. I think I just need to get a good night's sleep. Funny how, no matter what, that's never boring.

"I don't think of it as working for world peace, he said, I think of it as just trying to get along in a really big strange family"

Check out the beautiful/inspiring/haunting work of artist Brian Andreas at Storypeople.com. The website's pretty cool, though I tend to feel the best way to interact with his work is through his sculptures and drawings.

So today is the girlfriend's birthday, and though we have plans to go out and really celebrate over the weekend, tonight we're seeing Cabaret with none other than...(oh man, I don't think I can contain myself)...Debbie Gibson (now Deborah) and Neil Patrick Harris (of Doogie Howser fame)! I can hardly believe it. Two major forces of my adolescence, together on one stage. I think my head might just explode. I admit it, there was a period of time when Debbie Gibson was all I ever wanted in a woman. (Go ahead, judge away.) Must have been something about the whole wholesome Long Island girl thing she had going on. And yes, I was a regular viewer of the great Doogie Howser, MD. I remember having a bit of a crush on Doogie's girlfriend, Wanda. (Again, go ahead, judge away. I was young!) And who could ever forget the inspirational journal entries at the end of every episode? What a show.

Holy Shit. Just stumbled across this ridiculous site, which links to even more sites that leave me speechless. You may ask why, if I find such arguments so misinformed and utterly depressing, would I draw attention to them here. And I can only say that hey, if this sort of thing is your cup of tea, when then go ahead and knock yourself out. I'd never try to stifle or suppress anyone's right to express what they believe, though I have to say that anyone who is not immediately terrified that their opinions are backed by Clear Channel Entertainment is probably not someone I'd want to go have coffee with, that's for sure.

Though the following sentiments may largely be attributed to recent trips to Duane Reade, please allow me to take a moment to thank Jesus Christ, not only for dying for our sins, but also for being resurrected and ascending body and soul to heaven. For although I admittedly know little about the complexities of the Christian tradition (or any faith for that matter), I do know that without Mr. Christ's beautiful act of selflessness, we would not have the glorious and colorful array of Easter-themed candies and treats that appear each Spring and take up residence on store shelves for a month or so, where the sadly monochrome boxes and bows of St. Valentine's celebration briefly took up residence.

I love Easter candy. Though I seldom consume it, just the mere sight of it brings me instant happiness. Is there anything more immediately joyful than laying eyes on those marshmallow peeps and bunnies in every shocking, artificial color of the rainbow, or Cadbury creme eggs with their sickeningly sweet yet beautifully realistic egg-yolk creamy centers? And need I mention jellybeans? I do realize that one may purchase jellybeans throughout the year, but there's just something about the rainbow of colors and varieties that are so readily available alongside the Reese's peanut butter eggs and Whopper robin eggs.

So please, the next time you're in Duane Reade (or any other business proudly displaying the season's bounty), take a moment to just take it all in and reflect on the beauty that surrounds you. Soon it will be replaced by the cheerless monotony or charcoal briquettes and suntan lotion.

I hate to cook. I really do. Ironically though, I love the Food Network. In fact, if I have the tv on, I'd say there's a 90-95% chance that one of that channel's fascinating food-related programs is what's being sucked into my living room (unless of course Emeril or Mario Batali are on, in which case I'll read a book). So last night, upon returning from the gym, I flipped on the tv and, to my delight, found that an episode of Unwrapped (hosted by none other than the great Marc Summers of Double Dare fame) was just beginning. And what was the episode's subject, you ask? It was entitled "Faux French" and was all about American food items that, although not of French origin, have "French" in the name. That's right: it was a glorious half-hour of French toast, French dressing, French bread, and oh yes, French fries! I could just hear televisions in conservative foodies' houses all over the nation flipping off in disgust, or over to CNN for the latest on Operation Iraqi Freedom Fries. And as I sat and watched, I couldn't help but wonder if the timing of the episode was the Food Network's own unique form of protest. Foodies unite!

I nearly died three times on my way to work this morning. I can't help but feel that it was a little much. As a general rule, I prepare myself for one near-death experience per walk to work, and what can I say, any more than that tends to leave me a little shaken. But on the other hand, I have to say that I found an odd comfort in the reminder that amid all of the daily talk of war and terror, death can still come in its multitude of mundane, less-publicized forms - bus accidents, car crashes, and construction scaffolding disasters being just a few of the more vanilla varieties parading proudly on this city's streets. Vive la mort!

There are few things more frustrating than being without internet access. That's what I've been dealing with all morning here at work, and it's shocking to realize just how much of my daily routines and interactions depend on quick and easy access to the internet. E-mail has become such an essential business tool that it's unbelievably difficult for me to function without it. I have deadlines that I’m now going to struggle to meet, since I've lost several hours of online work time this morning. Ah well, c'est la vie. (Yeah, that's right, I just used a French phrase. And maybe for lunch I'll eat some FRENCH fries. And then maybe this evening I'll drink some FRENCH wine in front of a FRENCH window. Just try and stop me, ridiculous American propaganda machine!)

On another (somewhat related) note, I just have to say that Michael Moore is definitely one of my heroes. There's no way I would have chosen to subject myself to the Academy Awards last night, but I’ve heard about Mr. Moore's actions/comments while accepting his award, and now I definitely need to find a recording or a transcript so that I can see for myself exactly what transpired. I'm not saying that I agree with everything the man says or does, but I think that people like him who openly question and challenge (in an educated, articulate, and well-thought out way) the multitude of lies and propaganda we're fed on a daily basis are absolutely essential to our society. The amount of work and effort it takes for him to do what he does absolutely elevates him to hero status in my book. Voices like his are few and far between, and god forbid they are ever completely silenced or disappear entirely.

Well, today has been a productive "get-crap-off-my-desk-day," but in a few hours the girlfriend and I are off for a fun-filled weekend visiting friends in Louisville, Kentucky (barring any thunderstorms, terrorist attacks, etc.). So it's becoming more and more difficult to focus on work. Oh yes, I love Kentucky. I do. I am a New Yorker who loves Kentucky, and I will remain closeted no longer. I love Derby. I love Thunder Over Louisville. I love Lynn's Paradise Cafe. It's impossible for me to be in the area and not stop in for one of Lynn's amazing Bloody Marys. My friends know this. They plan on it. The only exception to this rule has been in cases where I've been too hungover to even think about it... Yep, love that Louisville nightlife. This weekend sounds like it's going to be a gorgeous one, and we're all pretty broke, so I think it'll be relatively low-key. Saturday we plan to go to Rough River State Park and just chill.

And just in case the previous paragraph has called into question my young-urban-professional cosmopolitan nature, allow me to state for the record that my love for Louisville in no way indicates a love for such things as smalltown close-mindedness, backwoods mentalities, or incestuous relationships. :)

I need some new music to listen to. It's been ages since I've discovered a band or an artist that I've really connected with and become passionate about. Like most industries in the world right now, the state of the "music business" is pretty damn sad, but that doesn't mean there isn't great music out there to be heard. I guess I've just become more complacent about seeking it out than I ever was before. Man, if someone had told me this would be the case when I was in college, I would never have believed it. And it's weird to realize that as you've gotten older your favorite bands have of course gotten older right along with you, and the people who are now the age that you were when your life was being changed by this music just don't care about it. I'll admit it: I still get a rush from a great Pixies or Breeders album. I'm not ashamed of that. It's just hard to come to the realization that there's an entire generation of people out there to whom those bands just doesn't mean anything.

So that last post was not actually posted on March 17. That's when I tried to post for the first time, but was actually unable to post anything until today, Thursday, March 20. (What can I say, I'm a stickler for accuracy in the published word.)

What a crappy day today is. So instead of dwelling on it, I'll focus on something that brought me endless hours of amusement last week. Thanks to my roommate's fiance and the wonderful people at Midtown Comics, I unexpectedly re-discovered something that brought my brother and I endless hours of enjoyment during our childhood. Growing up, I really wasn't a big fan of comic books or cartoons (or anything on television for that matter), but He Man and the Masters of the Universe were a definite exception. By the power of Grayskull...I HAVE THE POWER!! Ah yes, it still makes me smile.

Ok, so after a few initial hiccups, it looks like this thing is finally up and running. And though it's only been a few days since I started trying to set this up, it feels like a lot has changed since then. Our nation is now at war. And though in truth little has changed in my daily life (for now, anyway) as a result of it (unlike, say, the people of Iraq, Kuwait, Israel, Afghanistan, ah hell, the entire Middle East...), I can't help but acknowledge the fact that it's there, on the periphery, tinting everything I do today. Everything I feel. My first several unsuccessful attempts at posting were full of reminiscence and nostalgia, spurred on by the sudden, blissful onset of spring in New York City. But suddenly, reminiscence and nostalgia don't seem quite so comforting or important.