May 29th, 2002

Grrr!, Dammit!

What the FUCK?

Shiner is playing NYC... on the night I am driving seven total hours back and forth from Saratoga to see Rush.

God DAMMIT. I might have to take that Monday off and drive down to DC Sunday and see them. Geezus. I don't even know if anyone I know will still be in DC or not. I can't tell from her posts when Smanda is moving to Chapel Hill.
  • Current Music
    CoC, Seven Days


I just thought, as I was leaving on my lunch break, about a story I'd written in eighth grade. We had a prisons project, and we were supposed to write a story about someone trapped in a situation and how they tried to escape. It only just occurred to me that I was totally focused on the escape. I didn't convey any of the feeling of entrapment that my protagonist felt when he was incarcerated on the alien ship. I was totally focused on the end point, and not the path the character took.

This is the kind of person I am. I was twelve in eighth grade; now I'm on the verge of twentitwo. It took me a decade to come to this realization. That's not a bad thing; it means I'm still thinking about my early writing, and that we can only expect vast amounts of improvement from future efforts.

But damn, it would've been killer if I'd been able to write an emotional capture story when I was twelve, rather than seeing things as a set of goals to be accomplished and then only seen fleetingly in a rearview mirror.

I amaze even me, and that's all the more amazing because I'm amazing a person who is himself amazing. This is the vicious circle of affirmation and self-worth that stands in opposition to the continual depression you people seem to want to put yourselves into.

About a Joy

It's not enough; it can never be enough. There are so many people in the world, and yet, so few.

I love sharing; I honestly do. Why do you think I have this journal? Why do you think I read all of the journals and communities I do? It's a give and take, and there's just so much to be taken and given. There's bad and good, some of which we can pick and choose. But it's not enough; it's never enough.

How can one person expect to be everything?

And then I saw About a Boy. I like to be able to point to movies and say, "See?" because it's easier than explaining. Same with song lyrics, in that vast, subjective sense. I waited a bit, so now hopefully some of you have gotten around to seeing/reading it.

I really liked the movie (because it was good). But simplistic reviews aside, I think that it crystallized a very beautiful point that was sitting, supersaturated, in my head, waiting for that vital seed. If you ever review your classical mythology, you will see that often, women come in threes. There's the classical duality of man ("The Jungian thing, sir!"), but three graces, three furies, three fates. And it's a salient enough point that my lazy brain has actually been thinking about it. I actually have three women (not that the rest of you aren't fantastic, too) that I think of as the three graces. One is the most beautiful woman I've ever known, and I love her violently. I know one who is absolutely unmatched for the amount of fun we can have together, and I'm happy to say she's my best friend. And the third is possibly the most compelling person I've ever had the priveledge of exchanging e-correspondence with (when she's around). She's dreadfully unique and there always seems to be another facet of her (to keep the crystal analogy) to catch reflections from. Don't think for a minute that she's not beautiful, or that the essence of beauty isn't herself fun. They wouldn't be the three-sided creatures we call women if that were the case. They might be the one-dimensional beasts I refer to as 'chicks'.

So wait, duality of man, tertiality (trinality?) of women? No, I'm not suggesting a new family structure composed of five person units. Allow me a moment to giggle, though, as I entertain the thought of launching into a long entry espousing the idea.


Hee hee, ok. I'm back. But really, we do need more than one person to keep us going. Whether as a back-up or as a way to be is up to you. I'm not sure the traditional way of doing things is what I'm up for yet. Fortunately, I've got time to spare.

And then, prophetically, Greg Kihn's Jeopardy video comes on, where he drives away from his wedding in a hearse.

I always have to be different, so why stop now? I don't think you can put a limit on love, so I'm not going to. I'm getting mature enough that I'm not just indiscriminately spreading myself around until I'm left with nothing but a too-thin residue of my identity. I want to take everyone as they are, and love them as much as I can. Sometimes that's traditional, sometimes it's not. I love that loving people works in ways unique to each situation, and I love that sometimes love means not saying the words aloud.

I love this Men at Work video. I miss the Cold War-era humor we used to have.
  • Current Music
    Men at Work, "It's a Mistake"

I later brought to my attention...

Silly me! I forgot to mention the contest of the three Goddesses with Paris and the Golden Apple of the Hesperides (who were also three sisters). Eris, the goddess Dischord herself, had this Golden Apple. I might be relating mixed myth here, since I've read this story from half a dozen different places a dozen different ways. So anyhow, she offered the apple to Paris if he would act as judge in a contest between three of Greek Mythology's greatest goddesses. She did this, of course, to cause fighting between them, since they naturally scorned her as a lesser goddess. The apple was inscribed, To the fairest... and it was Paris' job to pick.

The contest was between Hera, Athene, and Aphrodite. Hera, matron goddess and queen of all things motherly, offered Paris power on earth. I guess this was an admission by the Greeks that the mother wears the pants and wields the power in the family. It beats her offering him clean dishes and warm supper, so yay women's lib in ancient times. Athene offered things from her sphere: Cunning wisdom and battle prowess.

A minute, Tom Sawyer just came on the VH-1 Classic. Breathe. Wow, I've never even seen this video. It's concert footage. Rock. I set a reminder in the new calendar program thingie about the concert today. Whee. So psyched. But uh, back to tha lekcha at hand...

Aphrodite offered Paris one thing: Poontang. The sweetest poontang in all of Greece, Helen of Troy. Cue the music, launch the thousand ships, now you know (if you didn't) what sparked that whole Trojan War dealie that started ten years before the Iliad even kicks in.

You see now that the contest ended up having nothing to do with fairness. It was a question of what each could offer him as a man. Which goddess, really, is better? Can you say you'd prefer beauty, or wisdom, or power at the cost of the other two? Paris chose Aphrodite, got Helen (for awhile), but lost power and wisdom. He caused and lost a war for Troy, and he certainly wasn't that smart or good in battle (though he did manage to kill that asshole Achilleus). Why should we chose when we can say that all the Goddesses have their fairness and their nastiness? Though I lean towards Athene, I still think Hera and Aphrodite rock pretty hard (once they settled out of their whole 'causing the destruction of mortals' phase). Well, okay, I think Aphrodite was a slut and Hera was a major mayor queen president biotch, but you get what I mean. You take the good with the bad, though. Hera was a good mother (usually) to her children (poor Hephaestus), and Aphrodite could be really, really sweet (usually when she wanted something). But then, Athene was a stuck up little daddy's girl. Kinda like [Unknown LJ tag]
  • Current Music
    Metallica, For Whom the Bell Tolls
Aww yeah

Used ta

When I was younger, I used to think I was clever. Then I got older, and I thought I was cool.

Now I'm older still, and I know.
  • Current Music
    The Ninth Gate

It woulda been

I was thinking what it would've been like if Closer had been recorded my a German artist:

You make me perfekt-er

Well, I thought it was funny, what with the reputation we Germans have for perfection and ruthless efficiency. The kind of ruthless efficiency that takes time to flounderingly explain failing jokes, yup.