Double the Fun
Two in one day! That HAS to be a Loser Record. I'm giving it to myself.
So I have a few observations.
1. If my career as a musical writer doesn't work out, I could become a Hallmark card writer. My friend and I were discussing this yesterday. There are just so many cards that nobody's thought of, but that people need. Here are some ideas:
Card 1: On the front, this guy sitting on a park bench, all by himself, looking really dejected. It says "Sometimes, you have to sit by yourself for a little while..."
Then on the inside, there's written, "... or forever. You never know."
This, my friends, is the perfect break-up card. It's optimistic, with the first part, but it's also got the whole honest despair part at the end. I'd buy that card.
Card 2: On the front, a kid with a test with an "F" written at the top. For effect, you might even have a tear falling on the paper so that it makes it look like he's very upset. You can write, "So you failed..."
And on the inside, you can have "again."
Or, you can write, "Bound to happen."
Or "Happens to the best of them. Just not to me."
Or how about "Sucks to be you."
"Someone's got to pick up the trash."
Possibilities. Endless.
1.5. This goes back to the idea that I wanted to make a line of stickers for failures. You know those stickers that teachers put on kids' papers when they do great? Like "excellent!!" "Way to go!" "AWESOME!" Yeah, those. Well, I always thought it was too bad if you weren't so bright, you never got a sticker. So here are some you can have:
"Better luck next time."
"Give up now."
"Did you study?"
"Hope you didn't study."
"Tell me you didn't study."
"Go back to 10th grade"
"Truckers deserve Respect Too"
"Can you read?"
"This is embarrassing."
"Awful!"
"FFFFFFFFFailure!"
When I told people my idea, they were appalled, and this made me sad. Nobody has a sense of humor anymore.
2. Another thing is that I've been noticing that this girl on my floor has been playing the Tom Petty song "Won't Back Down" or whatever the name is, all the time. Constantly. Like, over and over again. I've peeked in a few times to see if she was staring down her computer wearing all leather and carrying a firearm, but she wasn't. I've also tried to make sure she isn't pacing back and forth or always scowling or acting like a sociopath. No evidence yet, but it does sort of sit wrong with me that someone keeps listening to that song... I mean the lyrics go, "In a world that keeps on pushing me around no I won't back down"... scary, no? And the thing is, that since I've been hearing this song NONSTOP, I've started to uhh, sing it myself. Those same lyrics. Over and over again. Hum it. Sing it. Chant it. I think I've become the freak I'm afraid of. This is very scary stuff.
3. I should mention something about the Red Sox. I love them. I love the postseason. I love the whole freakin thing. And you know who I really love? Bill Simmons. The Sports Guy. Has to be my favorite sportswriter ever. Has to. Anyhow, he captures exactly - EXACTLY - what I am feeling and thinking. I can't even describe it coherently. It's like I read his stuff and get in this state where I can only nod repeatedly and say things like "yes, that's so right, you are so right, that is so true, I know exactly what you're thining" only I'm talking to a computer screen and nobody else is around. Or sometimes people walk into the office and look at me strangely, but whatever.
In anticipation of the postseason, and in my efforts to put in a good showing of procrastination yesterday, I went through his archives from last year's postseason. And, once again... he got it! He nailed it. Every emotion, right there. After Game 5 of the ALDS, he had it right. It was like being completely drained. After some of those playoff games, and especially the Derek Lowe nailbiter ninth inning in Oakland, I felt so tired and just so drained of any energy. I felt like I had just been playing. It's so weird. I thought I was alone in that, but no. Simmonnnns! Love him. And then he talked about how it's all stomach churning, heart pounding, can't breathe, can't live through it, but you have to. You HAVE to. And the thing is, even writing this, I can't get it through. And he can. That's talent. It's incredible. Today, he wrote about the posteason, "Everything has changed. Nothing has changed. I don't want to go through this again. I can't live without it. I'm not sure I can handle it. I couldn't imagine it any other way." Brillllliance.
Sadly, the first thing I thought was "That is so my away message for the postseason."
Which reminded me that I am an online loser. That is so sad, when you are in the midst of appreciating brilliance and you're reminded of your relative loser state. It was a little depressing, but then I sidetracked myself with memories of Derek Lowe actually dominating, Nixon's homer, Ortiz's double in the eighth back in Game 4 of the ALDS in Fenway Park, when the Sox were down but still in it. And I also thought about Bill Mueller's homerun on July 24, and I thought about when the Sox went back to New York against Pettitte and won Game 6, and then it was inevitable - like a train that's unstoppable - I had to think about Game 7, when I was sooooo sure! SO SURE - that the Sox had it. I can't describe the moment. It was like, 5-2, 8th inning... holy shit, we are beating the Yankees. We got Roger out of the game. My nerves. are shot. But the Red Sox. are beating. the Yankees. Game 7. New York. Against Clemens. The World Series. Holy shit. We're gonna be in the World Series.
And then the heartbreak.
And the thing is, it still hurts so bad to think about it that I am dreading feeling heartbreak again, but I can't wait for the games. It's like Simmons wrote - only Sox fans will understand the craziness and illogical feelings behind these thoughts. I can only say that for two weeks, I breathed Red Sox baseball. That's all I thought about. I got up, looking forward to the night's game. I wore the same Red Sox socks for days. Don't even mention the hygeine of that; superstition trumps everything. I wore a Sox shirt every day and was greeted on the street with "Yeah Sox!" everywhere I went. And everyone was into it. It was the most cohesive spirit I've ever seen, anywhere, period. It was amazing.
After the loss, it took me a few days to be back into the Sox. Some of my friends were like, "I hate them, I'm never liking them again, I can't do this." And I have to admit, the thought went through my head. For like a millisecond. And then I realized: nobody chooses to be a Sox fan. It's not like with the Yankees, where people make decisions to love or hate them. With the Sox, you've either got the love in your heart or you don't. You either get drawn in, or you don't. It's like the way with walking up and into Fenway Park: either you get the chills, or you don't. And if you're one of the lucky ones, you do. And if you're really lucky, that feeling stays with you forever. That's how it happens with the Red Sox. It's pure, untainted, overwhelming love. You just have to believe in that. It's what keeps everyone coming back, season after season, heartbreak after heartbreak. And that's why this season, this fall, I'm excited again to the point that I can't even talk about it without getting excited, without getting nervous and anxious and shaky. It's all of those crazy emotions mixed into one big ball of stuff, unexplainable, but amazing.
It's the type of thing I wish everyone could experience.
4. It's for reasons above that I really try to only go out with guys who are Sox fans. I want to be able to talk about stuff like that and have them know what I mean without having to explain it and sound like a loser.
5. Something strange that I think happens only to me: I get nervous when I have to turn on lights, open windows, or do anything like turn up the heat/down the AC in rooms that I don't know. I don't know why. I have no good reason why I get nervous, but I do. Sometimes a professor will ask someone to open a window, and I am like... uh oh, am I the closest person to the window? Crap! What am I going to do? I just think I'm going to break the whole thing and a piece is going to fly off and hit the professor in the head and he's going to die and everyone's going to point at me and say, "wow, you can't even open a window." Okay, so maybe only the last part, but that's just as embarrassing if you ask me.
6. Should I ever become a chauffeur, I'm going to stop and pick up random people who look like they could use a lift.
7. I feel like I have to make it until 10. I have no idea why, and why someone chose 10 as a number that is good and round for lists, but somebody did, and now everyone follows it. What if it was eleven? What if everything happened in elevens? The 11 Best Movies. The Top 11 Music Videos" or something like that. That would cause quite a stir. Now I feel like I have to get to 11 just to prove my point.
Forget it, seven is enough.
Awwwww man. I shoulda made it to eight.
Classic.
So I have a few observations.
1. If my career as a musical writer doesn't work out, I could become a Hallmark card writer. My friend and I were discussing this yesterday. There are just so many cards that nobody's thought of, but that people need. Here are some ideas:
Card 1: On the front, this guy sitting on a park bench, all by himself, looking really dejected. It says "Sometimes, you have to sit by yourself for a little while..."
Then on the inside, there's written, "... or forever. You never know."
This, my friends, is the perfect break-up card. It's optimistic, with the first part, but it's also got the whole honest despair part at the end. I'd buy that card.
Card 2: On the front, a kid with a test with an "F" written at the top. For effect, you might even have a tear falling on the paper so that it makes it look like he's very upset. You can write, "So you failed..."
And on the inside, you can have "again."
Or, you can write, "Bound to happen."
Or "Happens to the best of them. Just not to me."
Or how about "Sucks to be you."
"Someone's got to pick up the trash."
Possibilities. Endless.
1.5. This goes back to the idea that I wanted to make a line of stickers for failures. You know those stickers that teachers put on kids' papers when they do great? Like "excellent!!" "Way to go!" "AWESOME!" Yeah, those. Well, I always thought it was too bad if you weren't so bright, you never got a sticker. So here are some you can have:
"Better luck next time."
"Give up now."
"Did you study?"
"Hope you didn't study."
"Tell me you didn't study."
"Go back to 10th grade"
"Truckers deserve Respect Too"
"Can you read?"
"This is embarrassing."
"Awful!"
"FFFFFFFFFailure!"
When I told people my idea, they were appalled, and this made me sad. Nobody has a sense of humor anymore.
2. Another thing is that I've been noticing that this girl on my floor has been playing the Tom Petty song "Won't Back Down" or whatever the name is, all the time. Constantly. Like, over and over again. I've peeked in a few times to see if she was staring down her computer wearing all leather and carrying a firearm, but she wasn't. I've also tried to make sure she isn't pacing back and forth or always scowling or acting like a sociopath. No evidence yet, but it does sort of sit wrong with me that someone keeps listening to that song... I mean the lyrics go, "In a world that keeps on pushing me around no I won't back down"... scary, no? And the thing is, that since I've been hearing this song NONSTOP, I've started to uhh, sing it myself. Those same lyrics. Over and over again. Hum it. Sing it. Chant it. I think I've become the freak I'm afraid of. This is very scary stuff.
3. I should mention something about the Red Sox. I love them. I love the postseason. I love the whole freakin thing. And you know who I really love? Bill Simmons. The Sports Guy. Has to be my favorite sportswriter ever. Has to. Anyhow, he captures exactly - EXACTLY - what I am feeling and thinking. I can't even describe it coherently. It's like I read his stuff and get in this state where I can only nod repeatedly and say things like "yes, that's so right, you are so right, that is so true, I know exactly what you're thining" only I'm talking to a computer screen and nobody else is around. Or sometimes people walk into the office and look at me strangely, but whatever.
In anticipation of the postseason, and in my efforts to put in a good showing of procrastination yesterday, I went through his archives from last year's postseason. And, once again... he got it! He nailed it. Every emotion, right there. After Game 5 of the ALDS, he had it right. It was like being completely drained. After some of those playoff games, and especially the Derek Lowe nailbiter ninth inning in Oakland, I felt so tired and just so drained of any energy. I felt like I had just been playing. It's so weird. I thought I was alone in that, but no. Simmonnnns! Love him. And then he talked about how it's all stomach churning, heart pounding, can't breathe, can't live through it, but you have to. You HAVE to. And the thing is, even writing this, I can't get it through. And he can. That's talent. It's incredible. Today, he wrote about the posteason, "Everything has changed. Nothing has changed. I don't want to go through this again. I can't live without it. I'm not sure I can handle it. I couldn't imagine it any other way." Brillllliance.
Sadly, the first thing I thought was "That is so my away message for the postseason."
Which reminded me that I am an online loser. That is so sad, when you are in the midst of appreciating brilliance and you're reminded of your relative loser state. It was a little depressing, but then I sidetracked myself with memories of Derek Lowe actually dominating, Nixon's homer, Ortiz's double in the eighth back in Game 4 of the ALDS in Fenway Park, when the Sox were down but still in it. And I also thought about Bill Mueller's homerun on July 24, and I thought about when the Sox went back to New York against Pettitte and won Game 6, and then it was inevitable - like a train that's unstoppable - I had to think about Game 7, when I was sooooo sure! SO SURE - that the Sox had it. I can't describe the moment. It was like, 5-2, 8th inning... holy shit, we are beating the Yankees. We got Roger out of the game. My nerves. are shot. But the Red Sox. are beating. the Yankees. Game 7. New York. Against Clemens. The World Series. Holy shit. We're gonna be in the World Series.
And then the heartbreak.
And the thing is, it still hurts so bad to think about it that I am dreading feeling heartbreak again, but I can't wait for the games. It's like Simmons wrote - only Sox fans will understand the craziness and illogical feelings behind these thoughts. I can only say that for two weeks, I breathed Red Sox baseball. That's all I thought about. I got up, looking forward to the night's game. I wore the same Red Sox socks for days. Don't even mention the hygeine of that; superstition trumps everything. I wore a Sox shirt every day and was greeted on the street with "Yeah Sox!" everywhere I went. And everyone was into it. It was the most cohesive spirit I've ever seen, anywhere, period. It was amazing.
After the loss, it took me a few days to be back into the Sox. Some of my friends were like, "I hate them, I'm never liking them again, I can't do this." And I have to admit, the thought went through my head. For like a millisecond. And then I realized: nobody chooses to be a Sox fan. It's not like with the Yankees, where people make decisions to love or hate them. With the Sox, you've either got the love in your heart or you don't. You either get drawn in, or you don't. It's like the way with walking up and into Fenway Park: either you get the chills, or you don't. And if you're one of the lucky ones, you do. And if you're really lucky, that feeling stays with you forever. That's how it happens with the Red Sox. It's pure, untainted, overwhelming love. You just have to believe in that. It's what keeps everyone coming back, season after season, heartbreak after heartbreak. And that's why this season, this fall, I'm excited again to the point that I can't even talk about it without getting excited, without getting nervous and anxious and shaky. It's all of those crazy emotions mixed into one big ball of stuff, unexplainable, but amazing.
It's the type of thing I wish everyone could experience.
4. It's for reasons above that I really try to only go out with guys who are Sox fans. I want to be able to talk about stuff like that and have them know what I mean without having to explain it and sound like a loser.
5. Something strange that I think happens only to me: I get nervous when I have to turn on lights, open windows, or do anything like turn up the heat/down the AC in rooms that I don't know. I don't know why. I have no good reason why I get nervous, but I do. Sometimes a professor will ask someone to open a window, and I am like... uh oh, am I the closest person to the window? Crap! What am I going to do? I just think I'm going to break the whole thing and a piece is going to fly off and hit the professor in the head and he's going to die and everyone's going to point at me and say, "wow, you can't even open a window." Okay, so maybe only the last part, but that's just as embarrassing if you ask me.
6. Should I ever become a chauffeur, I'm going to stop and pick up random people who look like they could use a lift.
7. I feel like I have to make it until 10. I have no idea why, and why someone chose 10 as a number that is good and round for lists, but somebody did, and now everyone follows it. What if it was eleven? What if everything happened in elevens? The 11 Best Movies. The Top 11 Music Videos" or something like that. That would cause quite a stir. Now I feel like I have to get to 11 just to prove my point.
Forget it, seven is enough.
Awwwww man. I shoulda made it to eight.
Classic.
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