Well, Baby, I Surrender To The Strawerry Ice Cream, Never Ever End Of All This Love, Well, I Didn't Mean To Do It, But There's No Escaping Your Love

--"Accidentally in Love (cover)", MissAlissa15

It's been mentioned before that I tend to write more than a few pieces backwards. When I say backwards, that is to mean I don't start with a central idea or even any semblance of what the bulk of these paragraphs will contain. Nope, I'd say about half of the time I write blogs or anything personal I'm writing from the starting point of somewhere else. Most times that means a title (or a song lyric if it's something for this site). But other times it's even more insidious.

Take for instance tonight. Tonight all I have going for this blog is the idea I wanted to write a blog somehow referencing the video below. I don't know what I wanted it to be about, but I know it had to employ this song somehow. It's both a song I like and the new cover of it by MissAlissa15 just reminded me how much I used to love listening to the Counting Crows.

That's all I got. That's all I have to work with.

But if you think about it, it's the way I rationalize a lot of my decisions. I get a good impression of something or someone, and I just go with it. Maybe I don't follow my passions to the degree that Lucy does, but I've been accused of being impulsive a time or two. I really think a lot of life, mine especially, simply isn't planned out. We don't get a map of where we will end up or how to get there. Most of the time we get a starting point and then are told to make our own way. Some of us strike out for a definite destination. Others of us like to stumble around for a bit before taking stock of our bearings. There's no sense in deciding how we are to proceed without first figuring out where we want to proceed to. That's my theory at least.

If you think about it, it's the way humans are built. Take, love, for instance. A lot of people endeavor to discover their perfect mate. They conjure up a laundry list of qualities and attributes that they wish their perfect partner to possess. But when shove comes to push, most of us end up with people in the most roundabout of fashions. We have the basic understanding of what we're looking for--a starting point, if you will--but the process of finding someone special is often fraught with stumbling about the dark. Actually, the process most often involves denying we're feeling what we're feeling, and then suddenly surrendering to the moment. There is no grand scheme--no rhyme or reason; there's just feeling and acceptance.

That's the way I tend to approach writing sometimes. Sometimes I don't know where I'm going. I just trust that there's an idea worthwhile in the journey and that during the course of that journey I'll dig it out. So, yeah, sometimes all it takes is a song to set me off placing words on a page. But by the time I reach that last paragraph I think the promise held within that song has been revealed. Or, if you will, the song or lyrics for me is my marble block and it is only through the process of blurting out whatever pops into my head that the sculpture beneath is revealed.

Sometimes following one's passions is both the process and the goal.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers

Come Out Upon My Seas, Cursed Missed Opportunities, Am I A Part Of The Cure? Or Am I A Part Of The Disease?

--"Clocks", Coldplay

Breanne has extended me a most generous offer of coming to work with/for her over in Macon. And as much as I want to just dismiss it out of hand due to my many concerns, there's a strong part of me that is at the moment considering it. I mean--I'm not having much luck here and it would be nice to have her close by for a change.

Never mind that the summers there are horrible. Never mind that it breaks one of the big stipulations of our long-standing arrangement. I could use a job right now. Right now this is the only job that on the surface seems to meet my criteria of being a so-called "sure" thing and of being somewhat near my expected salary. Also, you know, the food there is great. It's not like I won't know a single person there as compared to somewhere completely new and foreign to me. And I really can do the job she has lined up for it. Hell, I could do it in my sleep.

Nope, what my wavering simply falls down to is that I've never lived anywhere but California. I've also never lived that close to her before. These have always been two aspects of my life that I thought best just to leave well enough alone. I've never once complained about California being worse off than any other part of the country. The weather's nice, the food's nice, and I know a lot of people here. I've also always firmly believed that perhaps Lucy and I wouldn't be such good friends if we were in each other's faces all the time. I believe maintaining the physical distance between us is one of the tenets to our long-standing friendship, that ability to have some space from one another when either of us feels it's necessary. With that gone I'm rather unsure how everything else will shake out.

I've talked long with many of the people I know about what I should do. What they say is that it isn't exactly the moving that concerns me; it's the idea that this will uproot everything I've ever held life to be. I won't have my family around me. I'll have to learn where everything I need is located. Hell, I'm going to have to learn all sorts of appropriate behavior over there and I already don't adhere to many of the conventions that are acceptable here. Over there my strangeness would even be more magnified because at least in California I can mingle among the other crazies here. They all say that the leap might be good for me if it comes to that.

I say that I'm still praying that it doesn't.

I don't want to go over there and find out that I don't like it. I especially don't want to get stuck there for awhile and not like. Also, I'm scared to death that if I do go over there she and I will just fall apart under the pressure. Aside from the tension of suddenly being in each other's lives a lot more, there'll be the added pressure of her sort of being my boss. That's not something I'm keen on exploring either. I've never been friends with my boss before. I've been friendly to them, but never what I'd call close friends.

I don't want to lose our friendship just to find a new job. As much as I would like a new job and need a new job, finding a replacement best friend/little sister would simply be an impossibility.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers

And If I Could Reverse It I Don't Think It Would Be Worth It, I Know In My Heart I Would Never Let You Tumble To The Ground, No I'll Never Let You Go

--"Fell Down The Stairs", Tilly and the Wall

My friend Slicks recently informed me that plans have been made to bring One Day to the big screen. It will star Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess as Emma and Dexter, respectively.

I'm ecstatic that they will be filming this adaptation of what has quickly grown to be one of my favorite novels. However, I'm very much paranoid that it will not live up to the source material. So much can go awry when making an adaptation and I have already grown so attached to the particular view I have of everything contained within the book's pages. I'm worried that should the tiniest detail not live up to the perspective by which I read the book my suspension of disbelief shall waver. From the subtle shade of Emma's hair to the way I pictured Dexter's face screwing itself up in some scenes--I have a lot invested into the way I see the story playing out.

Yet nothing is more paramount to me than the idea that the story line in all its triumphs and tragedies be preserved in its entirety. I don't want to see any of the heartache softened or the crescendos muted. I know some of the book's lengths will possibly have to be sacrificed, but the overall arc simply must play out the way it plays out in the book. With books like this, with their patterning after the whole scope of a human being's life the temptation will be to see it as either a gradual ascension or descent. But such a trajectory does not fit with the theme and motifs of the story. One Day is about two people who really see the scope of life and not just in one direction. With every bout of success there is a dash of loss to go with it; and with every milestone of tragedy there's some real growth to accompany it. It would be a shame if any involved with the film were to whittle the twistiness of the pair's path into something more linear.

I'm especially worried about Dexter. As I was explaining to someone before, the magic of Dexter is that he's atypical of characters of his type. He starts off as this pretty boy college graduate who basically has success, fortune, and fame handed to him. But rather than have him suffer this cataclysm of misfortune, and rather than have him get his comeuppance, the book does something trickier. Dexter goes through a slow fade of everything he ever wanted. He doesn't lose his success, his fortune, or his fame overnight. He loses a bit at a time by committing smaller mistakes of pride and arrogance. That's what I found compelling about his character. At the end of the day there isn't this one regret he can point to and say this is the day it all started going downhill; there's just a bunch of days where he wishes could've turned out just a bit better. This mirrors more closely the typical human experience. This is the quality of the character that I hope they preserve.

I mean--Emma's story isn't any less difficult to maintain. It's just that Emma's slow suffering and eventual rise to some kind of peace is more ordinary in comparison. A lot of movies have that person you're rooting for, that woman who suffers indignity after indignity, feeling trapped by a life she never thought she'd fall into. A lot of movies have characters who don't or can't aspire to better things because they feel undeserving. And a lot of movies have these types of characters slowly draw themselves up in order to soar by the end. That's Emma's arc, which I admit would be run of the mill if it weren't for the fact that it's put in direct comparison to Dexter.

Honestly, that's what I think that makes this story so unique. The two of them are never in the same place in their lives--even after they get together as a couple. They're never complete in sync emotionally, romantically, or even intellectually. And yet they still manage to find each other through their seeming incompatibility.

True, they spend a lot of time complaining about how the timing's always off between the two of them. Yet in the end, even though the timing isn't quite right and even though the stars never quite align for them, they push through to each other anyway. They realize there's never going to be a perfect time to do what they want in life or to be with the person they want to be with; you've just got to make the best of what you got. Most importantly, they learn that with the things that matter to you or should matter to you, you just can't wait. You really have to go out there and grab whatever it is you think will make you happy before the thing (or person, sadly) isn't there anymore to be grabbed.

This is why I'm hoping they don't mess with one beat of the novel's story because anything less than that pitch-perfect kind of tone and sentiment will be a great disservice to a pound-for-pound masterpiece of a literary romance.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers

Oh, Oh, Oh, Who's That Twisting? Who's That Crunching? It's Oreo Action For Oreo Munching

--"Oreo Jingle"

I love their jingle, but my secret shame is that I can't stand Oreos. They never tasted right to me. I don't get the chocolate cookie and I certainly don't get the creamy middle. I've always been a straight-up no-nonsense chocolate chip or peanut butter cookie man. I probably always will be.

I remember growing up people would always peddle Oreos as being the end-all, be-all of cookies. I'd go over to my friends' house and there they would be. My friends' moms would offer me a cookie. They would present me an Oreo. I would thank them out loud, but inside I'd be thinking, "That's not even a cookie. That's a damned Oreo." It just goes to show what good marketing and advertising will do for you. While normally I'm the first individual to buy into the hype, if the ultimate product is inferior then I quickly lose interest.

There's no way around it. Oreos are just bad cookies.


that's one bad cookie

They're hard. They're dirty to the touch. And they taste sweet, sure, but the cookie part just becomes this black paste in your mouth while the creme just is all sorts of sweet awfulness. It's just a bad-tasting cookie on all accounts. And while I would never turn down anything that remotely qualifies as a dessert (Got to keep that dessert stomach of mine happy, don't you know?), you'll never catch me buying a package of Oreos. I can honestly say that if I never eat another Oreo it will be too fucking soon.

And what brought on this little rant against a veritable institution? I went looking for my favorite cookie growing, Keebler's Peanut Butter Deluxe, a nice, soft cookie with large chunks of peanut butter, and found out they had discontinued it. To say the least I was disappointed. If you'd been around me in the late 80's, early 90's that's all that would be in my parents' house. I always made sure that there was a package or two around, lying in wait in case my dessert stomach hit the E mark. If anything was an institution it was the cookies that literally had more peanut butter than cookie. If anything deserved to be revered as the cookie of a nation, it was those heavenly baked goods. If anything deserved to be discussed thirty odd years later, it's my favorite cookie.

We live in a shameful world when people are still eating Oreos and I can't even get one stinking Keebler Peanut Butter Deluxe cookie.

Sigh.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers

Summertime And The Livin Is Easy, Fish Are Jumpin', And The Cotton Is High

--"Summer Time", Renee Olstead

Certain activities I've come to expect from my summer. One might say I've gotten spoiled by having the same routine. Some time during May or June I take a trip to visit one of my friends or else take a trip with one of my friends. If it's an even year that trip is usually to Boston; if it's an odd year that trip is usually to a city I've never visited before. Some time during the week before the trip I buy a pack of new socks and underwear (LOL) and I usually pick up the new Dresden Files book to be read during the course of the trip. The week after the trip I usually start going to baseball games in earnest. And some time during the summer I usually stay for a week at Kerri Ray's near Santa Barbara.

But before that I used to have another routine for summer. Back when I was a kid the thing my brother and I used to do was stay over at my cousins' house. They had the pool. They had the "bonus room." Sure, they probably stayed over at our house just as often, but those times aren't as memorable as when we went over there. I suppose that's because it just blends into all the other times I've been at my house. I don't know--there's a big part of me that still associates summer time with being at my cousins' house as much as vacations. They're both synonymous with having a good time with people I like.

I believe this has a lot to do with the fact that I don't really have those long-standing traditions of going away with the guys for a week here and there during the summer season. Even as kids, I always hung out with my school buddies more during the scholastic year than in summer. Summer was more my time and less time to associate with people I associated with school. I admit, a bit of this changed when I got to high school and met people like Dan and Peter. We used to hang out a lot during summer, but it's a testament to my prerogatives that as soon as they moved away, no real plans were ever made to get together during summer. I never took special care just to visit them, just as they never took special care to visit me. In the scope of things summer's always been that personal season, where I go where I want to see who I want.

This summer's been hard for me. Being unemployed has changed a lot of how I view summer. This summer especially was supposed to something special. This summer I was supposed to go see dear Toby graduate. This summer, as a graduation gift, I was supposed to drive her up from Louisville to Boston. This summer I was supposed to take that great unhindered road trip. Part of me believes this is still the reason why she's so stand-offish with me right now. And part of me thinks that combined with how much I've had to change my routine already is making this summer feel off somehow.

I don't get to go where I want with who I want to be with. I feel more trapped at home more than I usually do.

I also believe this has a lot to do with the fact I look forward to my week away all year. It's my one week where I get to explore the rest of this great country that I normally don't get to see. I mean--I love California. However, it doesn't get me any closer to visiting every state before I die by wasting a year without going away. It doesn't get me any closer to seeing a baseball game in as many stadiums as possible. It makes me feel like I've been locked away for at least 2 years now without a break.

But mostly I feel like a wasted opportunity to solidify my ties with Toby. The whole silent treatment has me worried I blew it by not visiting her. Part of me believes that had I visited this year we could have been lifelong friends like Breanne and I are. After all, I visited that one within eighteen months of meeting her. I then visited her again six months later. And I really do think those two visits shored up any doubts that either of us might have been having that the whole friendship was going to work out. If, if, if... I visit Toby next year, that'll be two years since my last visit. The other thing is it will probably take place at Notre Dame, where she won't have the time to pal around like she would have been able to this year. It won't be the same.

I feel like I wasted my opportunity.

I guess that's what going to visit my cousin all those times during those summers long ago. It was what bonded us closer than most cousins do. It's what visiting Breanne during that summer of 95 did; bonded us closer than most people who live on opposite ends of the country are. It's what visiting Tara or Jina or whomever during summer did; it brought us closer together. Because that's what I really think summer is to me; it's a chance to reaffirm friendships that I think may be in need of reaffirming. It's not a time to let them lapse or fade away, which is what I'm afraid what this summer will be remembered as.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers