Saturday, August 30, 2008

Carissa & The Post Office

I didn't expect lines akin to a ride at Disneyland when arriving at the Studio City Post Office at 8:58AM, but there I was, in one. Most everyone in line was morning-sour as the one clerk helped one slow customer after another. But there were two people chatting up a storm. One was a woman with long, wavy blonde hair, glasses, and a chirpy voice and she was giggling and laughing with a guy in shorts and a black baseball cap. She was discussing her upcoming trip to somewhere like South Dakota and how she was going to visit a friend. Their attitudes were in complete opposition to everyone else, including me. We were all slumped and dismal, but they were in a different world. Carissa went to take care of her postal business with the same attitude she had in line, happy and apologizing for needing different kinds of stamps. As she was preparing to gather her things and go, the man she had been talking to approached her.
"Can I get your name?"
"Carissa," she responded happily and they both scrambled to find paper to write on.
After a few moments, she gave him the piece of paper she had written on.
"I'll be back in town in a couple weeks," she said.
"Hopefully I'll see you then," the man replied.
"Yes," Carissa assured.
They parted and I couldn't help but smile as I looked out the side window of the crowded Post Office and saw Carissa almost skipping to her car.

Terrifying Rides, Infidelity, Liza Minneli & Dead Cats

I don't remember a time when I've remembered so many dreams, night after night. Last night's were perplexing. I know no one cares, but I'm writing them down anyway because it's interested to have them to remember, especially when the memory of them slips away so easily.
First, I was at a house with my family and B. I got a visit from H2, who seemed very depressed and just needed someone to talk to. He went to leave in a Winnebago and I opened the doors to make sure none of the kids had hidden inside. Well, BR was inside, trying to sneak a ride, so I went in to get her, but H2 ended up taking off up a hill at full speed and couldn't find a place to turn around. We ended up speeding up a hill with the door open, I was holding on to BR as we went higher and higher up a cliff.
Next, I was riding a bike in a neighborhood that was Studio City-esque. It was this suburban area on a hill that overlooked the entire area and I rode my bike down the hill to Ventura Blvd. A lot of the shops on the street had burned down, but I stopped at one that was still standing to get an Italian ice. I noticed someone familiar there, it was B on his lunch break. He was standing very close with someone and leaning his head on this person's shoulder. I heard them talking and immediately went crazy and ended up hitting B in the head with a magazine, but he was resolute that this had been going on for while and was happy he could finally be open about it. There was a part of me that was angry and another part that realized there was nothing I could do about it.
Next, I was watching a weird, violent but arty movie on CBS with my family and Liza Minneli. Everyone was bored, but we were still watching it until I decided to turn it off. For some reason, Liza was a little down and I had to assure her that she was brilliant and one of the all time greats. The house ended up turning into an awards ceremony where both Liza and a teenage Susan Lucci were nominated for awards. I left the house and went to a park where a light rain was falling. In the park, someone had left "X-Files" and "My So-Called Life" posters on the ground and I was excited to find them. As I was walking around, I heard this horrible screeching. It caught me completely off guard and was a horrible sound. I finally started to run towards the sound to find out what it was and looked around in all these ponds the rain had formed. In the ponds were a bunch of drowning cats. First I tried to save them with sticks until finally I jumped in, but I was too late and I could only save one. The rest were all floating dead in the water.
There was a definite progression to the dreams. I went from being happy with my family to scared, then to angry at B, then to completely grossed-out and disturbed. If I was to interpret what I was feeling, I would say there's a part of myself that I'm keeping at bay and not trusting because I think it's going to get out of control and lead to something catastrophic. I'm not sure what this part of me is, but I'm interested to find out if it's giving me this much grief.

Friday, August 29, 2008

James Franco & a Broken Bottle

Dream-Part the Firste
I was walking down a street and noticed a house that looked on the outside to be in shambles. It was for sale, so I decided to take a closer look and once I got up to it, it was amazing. It had an incredible view of the ocean and was a loft type house with tons of open space and cement floors. The outside was brick and it was kind of like a beach house that hadn't been taken care of. To the right of the structure was an amphitheater that overlooked the water. On the benches, people were sitting around filling out applications. It ended up that the house was owned by James Franco, and he wanted to sell it because too many people knew the location (I don't know if I read this somewhere or it was information from a previous dream). I remember thinking "Maybe he'll take pity on me and even though I can only qualify for a loan of $120,000."
Dream-Part the Seconde
I was on the couch. My mom offered me a drink of whiskey and I was too lazy to sit up, so my sister handed it to me and as I reached out for it and the glass fell and shattered on the floor. My sister and I both went to clean it up and among the glass shards was a single earring.
I know where part of this dream came from. As I was crossing Sepulveda Blvd. at Oxnard yesterday, I looked down at the curb and saw a broken bottle. I remember thinking "That's symbolic of something." So, I'm sure it was symbolic, but it became a symbol of a symbol in my dream. Broken glass, it's pieces shattered and shining in the sun.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

The Darkness Slowly Falls

Summer is ending soon. It's official. I had to use the lights on my bike as I was riding home from work for the first time in a long while. Yes, I stayed at work later than normal, but there's no denying that the nights are coming sooner. They're closing in like the sides of a box, the dark slowly overcoming the light.
It's a little sad, although not as sad here in Southern California as it is in other places. I'm not going to have to be dealing with snow falling or having to bring out the winter coats, but Fall is always a strange time. It's the doorway to the beginning of the end of the year. Another year, another birthday, another presidential election, another reminder that time is just slipping away.
It's like I'm walking down a tree lined path, all of what's ahead of me looks the same, although I'm hoping there might be a few surprises I can't make out yet. Maybe there's a side path I can veer off of for a little while. I hope I'm not too enraptured looking ahead that I forget to check out what's around me. I think the texture I crave in my life lies down those side paths.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

I think I think about "Grey's Anatomy" too much, specifically Meredith Grey

I dreamed I was the nations #4 knee-cap surgery nurse. Whatever that means. I was in surgery and as the doctors were about to start operating I was wondering to myself "Did I really learn things in medical school or did I just study to pass the tests?" Of course, the hospital was Seattle Grace and Meredith Grey and Erik Sloan were the doctors. They were involved in a romance and seemed very happy, which might be due to the fact that Meredith had amnesia. For some reason, we were all going back to the same house together and drove in separate cars down a very slippery hillside road. I think the road was actually a half-pipe made of plastic. We left at different times and I ended up sliding down the road and there was a big accident. A huge semi-truck started sliding all around, bumping from one side of the road to the other and hitting cars along the way. While it was happening, I was thinking "There's nothing I can do. It either hits me or it doesn't." For whatever reason, I was lucky enough not to be hit and made it back to find Meredith under a blanket. On first look, I thought she was dead, but really she was just sleeping. There was snow all around and it was cold, so I wondered why she was sleeping outside but then noticed the house I had arrived at was burnt down.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

A Lesbian Beach Wedding

This weekend I saw two 60-year old Carmel women dirty dance and grind to the floor during a Jazz Band version of Brick House.
This weekend I rubbed the bust of John Steinbeck to ward off future writer's block and ate mounds of fried seafood in the ocean view restaurant that took up residence behind his head.
This weekend I went barefoot more often than I wore shoes and jumped each time my feet touched the 50 degree Pacific coast surf.
This weekend I watched two proud fathers duel to get the last word and the last laugh as they beamed with pride and wiped a few unexpected tears on their daughters' wedding day.
This weekend I smiled as two young french girls, holding hands as they sheepishly walked through the sand, approached the brides and requested a picture of something they longed for, but could never have.

Headache

What if your super power was giving people headaches? What if the sound of your voice or what you said caused someone head pain? It wouldn't be a good thing unless you liked to torment people. I don't think anyone wants to be a headache for someone else. What are you supposed to do when you're trying your best but you still end up being that headache for someone else?
There are sometimes when I'm just plain annoying. I don't really try to be, but I do realize I am. It's a horrible feeling when I'm not really aware of it and someone points it out. It's like someone is stabbing me in the side. For some reason, I've always been the type of person who hates being a nuisance. I think part of my removal from the outside world is to avoid situations when I am a nuisance.
I guess I just need to allow myself to take up space and let others do what they will. It's not my intention to cause strife, but if others take offense at me just being me, then they can deal.

Monday, August 25, 2008

7-6 (9-7)

It was hot. Really hot. We lost our doubles match in a tiebreak and my singles match was first up right after doubles ended. It started off fine. I was going for my shots, but a few games in and I was spraying balls everywhere. My serve wasn't working and neither were my groundstrokes. I was down 1-3, 15-40. Then I started junkballing. High balls, slices. It wasn't pretty but it got me back in the match. It seemed to throw my opponent off too because his game quickly devolved and it became a game of make the other person miss.
I won the set. Barely. I had a chance to serve it out at 5-4 but got broken at love. I had to hold serve to stay in the match and it was only my lead in the tiebreak that helped in the end.
I'm wondering if I should have just kept swinging with the hope that eventually my shots would go in. I'm wondering if it's better to win playing completely ugly and embarrassing survival tennis rather than lose going for it. I've been going back and forth with this. I've been told there's a happy medium I've been able to sometimes find, but what if I can't find what's in the middle?
I don't know, my game is in shambles right now and I just want to hit the ball well and have it go in. Is that so much to ask?

Friday, August 22, 2008

1 in a Trillion

Things end and things begin.  And sometimes things that happen that seem so large end up disappearing like a smoke ring.  I don't know why things happen like they do sometimes.  There were moments yesterday where I had such clarity.  I saw myself and I saw the world for what it was.  It was scary because I knew there was some misfire in my brain that made me think all was coming clear, but I couldn't stop thinking that way.
I do think those moments are tainted, but there are truths they contain.  I'm entitled to my feelings just as much as anyone else.  And just because something I feels goes against the general consensus, it doesn't mean it's wrong.  My goal as of now is to just express what I feel.  It's up to me to stand up for myself and not be trampled on.  It's up to me to bring my problems to people instead of talking behind their backs.
There are plenty of times we are supposed to just go with the flow, to not cause trouble.  At this point, the only person I really have to face up to every day is the one in the mirror, and I need to start doing what I feel is right even if it's the wrong time for it.  

Thursday, August 21, 2008

I Fucking Get It, you Ks

Now it's time for a little rant. Why the fuck can't people just take me at my damn word?
If I say I'm going to somewhere, I'll probably go unless I tell you otherwise. If I agree to cook something for you, I'll probably cook it for you unless I tell you otherwise. If I say the work is going to be done on time, the work is probably going to get done on time unless I tell you otherwise. And if I say no, I probably mean no unless I indicate otherwise.
I rarely need reminders, my memory is pretty good.
I rarely need continual questioning, if I change my mind, I'll tell you.
If there's one thing I'm sure of about my fickle personality, it's that I'm reliable. I'm someone you can count on when it all comes down to it, for better and worse. I'm pretty obvious with my emotions. I've been told recently several times that I'm a bad liar, so why would lie if it's so obvious?
I'm wondering if it's something I'm projecting. But just because I try to be laid back and jovial doesn't mean I'm a complete wastoid slacker. Maybe something I'm not aware of is causing people to question me at every move. In that case, I'm open to hearing what it is and what I need to do to change it. Maybe I'm just so closed off to the idea that I could be viewed of as unreliable. Maybe I need to be constantly questioned and reminded and am really am a big mess who needs to be micromanaged. If that is the case, I apologize.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Our Friends with the Talking Broaches

He's there all the time lately. Always on my mind. He was there last night and all today I couldn't stop thinking about him. I was driving and messing with a TomTom and got pulled over by a policeman that was cutting in front of me in traffic. He didn't want to hear anything, he just gave me a ticket.
I've been dreaming about policemen and getting tickets a lot lately. I don't know what's triggering it. I don't know if I'm scared of authority or fearing some punishment for something. I'm not sure what I've done that causes me to fear the wrath of a man in uniform. But I have been driving the speed limit.
There's a kind of strange thrill in driving the exact speed limit. Everyone else seems in a hurry to get places, but I leave early enough that I can drive the speed limit and still get to where I need to go in time. Lately it's felt like a rebellion, like I'm the one person deciding not to be in a rush, to take my time, to follow the rules that no one else will follow. Maybe in forcing myself to slow down, I can finally catch up.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Teamwork

According to the LDS Church, masturbation is a sin. They even have a website offering useful suggestions for overcoming (no pun intended) your addiction.
My favorite suggestion is to shout out the word "Stop" if you begin to feel the urge.
If that doesn't work, you may want to get out of bed and make yourself a snack, even if you're not hungry.
You should always wear thick pajamas, these provide an extra barrier between you and the sinful area.
Of course, you must immediately cut all ties with any friend or acquaintance that continues to participate in this behavior, however,

try not to spend any time alone. Hmmmm....
Don't admire yourself in the mirror when coming (sorry, I did it again) out of the shower, quickly walk past the mirror to put on your briefs. (Are all Mormons aroused by the sight of their own genitalia?)
If all else fails, do the obvious, pray... or just put a Bible, instead of a dick, in your hand.
My friend Matt suggests wrapping your penis in duct tape.
If you have a slip and your hand heads south, just put a dollar in a jar every time it happens and give this money to your Church on Sunday.
My co-workers and I have started our own collection.
Although we're not giving our money to a church.
We're buying a new plasma TV for our office.
We should have enough money by Friday.

Eyebrows, Cats & Traps

What does it mean that when I go to prematurely put paper in the printer, there's only one sheet left? What does it mean that when I pull out my eyebrows and run a pen over them, they gather together like they're magnetically charged? What does it mean that I try to have a good attitude but keep getting bogged down by the swirling mass of confusion surrounding me?
Maybe it's not confusion. Maybe it's the world and I'm confused. I wish things made more sense.
I came home yesterday and the apartment was quiet. Usually, one of the cats is around to say hello. But there was no one to greet me at the door. I thought it might be feeding time and that's where they were at. I gave it a few minutes. Then I started to worry. I walked upstairs, looked around, nothing. I went into the office, nothing. Bathroom, nothing. The feeder was full. I walked into the bedroom, nothing. I noticed the bathroom door, closed. I opened it up. Somehow the cats had locked themselves in for who knows how long and had made a complete mess while they were at it, toilet paper was knocked to the floor along with hair products in the sink and skin products all around. The cats looked at me like I was disturbing them and then walked out to say hello and get something to eat. They were trapped but they weren't freaking out. Maybe they knew things would eventually turn out right.
Where does that faith come from? I pull out another eyebrow.
Things will eventually turn out right.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Disappointing

It's disappointing when you disappoint someone. Especially when you're trying your hardest not to. I guess sometimes people just aren't on the same wavelength for whatever reason. You try to do your best, but sometimes it's not good enough.
It's easier to disappoint myself. I'm the one who has to live with it, but disappointing someone else ends up worse because I always go into the worst, darkest places.

A Follow Up To My Facebook Status

I wish I worked for the Olympics.
I wish my job was to blog about gold medal winners
and Mary Carillo's bad outfits and akward commentary.
I wish I spent two weeks, once every four years,
holed up in the Plaza Hotel
with room service and a remote control.
For fives hours each night
I lay face down on my sofa,
glued to my television
as if I'm watching marathon episodes of Intervention.
I become wildly interested in things like
Synchonized Diving and Trampolining.
But, when did Trampolining become a sport?
Does that even take athletic ability?
If you fall you don't even hit the floor.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Barely

Just when I think I'm over something... Today's tennis match was streaky. I thought I played all right during doubles, but singles was another story. It was a crazy match on both ends. I lost the first two games, won the next five, lost the next two and then won the deciding game to win 6-4, carelessly squandering match points along the way. My opponent seemed more nervous than me and I didn't know what kind of game to play.
I lost that calm quiet where I just... play. I want it back and my goal is to not make what happened today a habit. Hopefully win or lose, I can return to playing the kind of game that I want to play. I don't want the nerves to come creeping back in. I've dealt with them for too long and thought our divorce was final.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Death on a Freeway

There was a line of cars holding up traffic as I hurried to make my way to a make up ice skating class that actually didn't end up happening. I was upset at the traffic. Police were holding up on-ramps and diverting cars at whim as the long procession of cars got onto the highway on their way down the 134 to Forest Lawn Cemetery. I knew these people were probably sad and suffering, I knew this was obviously something more important than whatever I and most the people on the highway had to do. But still, I was irritated at the traffic. When I die, I don't want to hold up traffic--just scatter my ashes and be done with it.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Yellow Roses

Her lover brought to her yellow roses
Picked from a garden of his own love.

I don't know how I remember those lines from a poem I wrote for 12th grade English. We had to write a poem based on Kate Chopin's "The Awakening." I focused on roses and the poem was a tragic and dark soap opera and I remember my teacher really liked it. I was always fascinated by the story and Edna's final swim into the water and how dark it was. It seems like it's a recurring theme in some of my favorite works. In "The Piano," Holly Hunter gets dragged into the water and almost dies before changing her mind. In "Grey's Anatomy," Ellen Pompeo gets dragged into the water and dies before changing her mind. Subjugation, codependency, water, death, rebirth. I think I always want life to be that dramatic. I always want to be making symbolic choices that reveal something amazing underneath. I don't know if it's a good way to live: looking at everything as a symbol of something deeper. I often wonder what life would be like not seeing the world like that, viewing everything with a steady dose of indifference.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Living In A Dairy Free World

I am so over Vegans. They are ruining my friendships and my work relationships one piece of cashew cheese at a time. I can't even bring donuts for my co-workers in the morning without the knife of guilt stabbing me in the heart. Do I need to bring a carrot stick or a slab of margarine for the resident Vegan in the office? No more late night Pizza calls. If so, do we have to order half the pie without cheese? What about the rest of us? Is it fair that you get a whole half of the pizza because of your fear of the dairy cow?
The days of sharing an appetizer portion of macaroni-n-cheese at Magnolia have ended. Does every restaurant have to offer Tofurkey Sandwiches and Soy Pudding for you to join me for a meal? Am I forced to eat at bland, B rated restaurants in a city that has some of the most amazing dinners this foodie has ever tasted?
Vegans, I am begging you, bring back the dairy. Stop ruining our lives with your narcissistic obsessions. After all, without dairy there would be no Blizzards from DQ, no milk left for Santa, no more celebrities with white mustaches.

Christmas Time Is Here

I recently connected my love of skating with the Peanut's song "Christmas Time Is Here." It is one of my favorite songs and I can listen to it any time of year. I don't like cover versions of the song, just the original. It's so mournful and melancholy, but not in a bad way. It's more about how beautiful and unreachable feelings in the past can sometimes seem.
I think about that song when I'm on the ice. And I think of Charlie Brown and Snoopy and Lucy skating around as they sing it.
Of course, all good things must end and last week as I was skating around in a circle, a girl who looked like she was about 11 years old decided to skate to the gate across my path. It was one of those slow-motion 1 second moments that you know is coming and just have to deal with. We ran into each other and we were both fine, but my dream world had been shattered and I've had trouble skating comfortably since.
Last night, I had to register to get a $25 discount on the next skating session but I didn't know what class to register for. I do feel like I've progressed, but my back-crossovers are no where near where they should be. I'm tentative, I'm leaning the wrong way, I'm scraping my skate on the ice, I'm going off sideways instead of in a circle. I asked my teacher if I should sign up for the same class again but she told me to go ahead to Gamma/Delta. She's the teacher, so I listened to her, but I'm nervous. I'm nervous about the hesitation that I've recently developed. I'm wondering if I can ever get back to that mournful and melancholy state, but not in a bad way. Lately all the skaters on the ice have started to get to me more: the hockey players who zig and zag, the figure skaters who go backwards and forwards and veer off to flip, the little kids skating in opposite directions, the groups of giggling teen girls that hold hands and block the line of traffic.
I'm still looking for that open patch of ice that I can skate around in without worry. That place outside where Snoopy is doing figure 8's and there's the sound of music in the distance.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

"Only connect."

I had a dream that one of my co-workers died. Seeing the person in question is kind of weird. I wonder how much life would change without that person in it. It's weird that you can talk with people and not really connect and they can disappear and not really leave a trace on me. I mean, they're there somewhere, but no where distinct. I guess that's a good sign having people in my life that I think about even when we're not around each other.
I think that's why it's okay to detach from people. If it's meant to be, they'll always be there. Someone who makes an impression on me is pretty much a part of my thought process and that's why I can not see someone for a while and be fine once I do see them. For better or worse, the people who matter leave an impression, whether I realize it at the time or not.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Tennis Lesson

Some days it flows, some days it doesn't. I won my tennis match 6-1 on Sunday and I really never felt nervous. I just did what I needed to do. I think sometimes I try a little too hard to play a certain way when it's just not in me. I think we all want to be Supemen and show off our flashy best. But I think it's a long learning process to realize that I have to live up to my own potential, not what I think others want of me and not strive for things that aren't within me. Not that I'm managing expectations or using it as a cop out, but no one has it all. I think it's taking me a long time just to find out what I do have. I think part of my current state is compounded by my first trip to the gym in almost 3 months. I'm at my heaviest and it's a weird feeling. But I have no one else's expectations to live up to but my own. I guess I'm just always trying to find a way to be comfortable in my own skin.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Something in the Air

Things are quiet now. Everything is being put in its place. But it's the calm before the storm. Soon things will be shaking and quaking and they'll be a whole lot more to deal with. I'm not looking forward to it. Things are fine right now, in the calm, quiet, uncomplicated world that we've built. But soon others will come marching in to stake their claims and I'll just have to shuffle out of their path and do whatever it is they tell me to do. I don't want to even think about it right now.
I want to go to my happy place--a field in the summer time as the winds blow along the plains and clouds pass overhead. Where there's no threat of a storm, just hours of perfect sunlight on the horizon.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

The First Day of School

A reminded me of something I said to her, that when we started up work it would be like we never left. Unfortunately, it's kind of like that. Riding my bike to Van Nuys, walking in the building, filling out the paperwork, getting to work all felt run-of-the-mill. Even the new twists weren't that surprising, they were just more things to do. I guess it's good not having to deal with all those days and weeks of uncertainty when you start up someplace completely new, but it is kind of weird to just fall back into something I've been away from for 2 1/2 months.
Those 2 1/2 months seem further and further away as the seconds tick by. They start to look as if they're dipped in gold. I appreciate them so much right now, I want them back. I don't want to let go but I know my grip is slipping. Soon I'll try to claw my way back but I know it will be a worthless cause.
Is it wrong to not want a job or kids? To just want to stay at home with the cats, on the couch, a fan on my face and the TV humming?

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Old Soul

My energy is slowly diminishing. It's like I'm getting ready to be locked up. I went to see what might be my last weekday matinée in a while, "Brideshead Revisited." It was a good choice, yet another addition to my favorite genre of English period dramas. Tomorrow it all starts again. Part of me is still in denial. It's like I still don't know if I'm actually going to start back at work because we've been delayed so many times. I can't even allow my mind to go into the place where days are filled with being somewhere other than home and waiting for the weekend. Ugh. I'm having trouble even writing about it because I just don't want it to be. I want the last hours of this day to stretch out into eternity. The rational part of my head keeps saying it's not that bad and I know it's true. It's just something different--something I would prefer not to do but know I have to.
Today at the movies I was thinking about being an "old soul." The surprising size of the audience brought the term to mind because I was probably the only person under 50 of the other 20 people at the theater. I remember a trip I took to Lourdes, France when I was in 8th grade. Some of the women on the bus called me an "old soul" and were surprised by my "mature taste in music." I wonder if "old soul" means I just want to act like I'm retired, watch movies in the daytime, leave the house as little as possible, listen to adult-contemporary music, and spend more time with my cats than other human beings as the days sail by. I guess I just want the good parts of being an old soul without having to do the things it takes to get there.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Drowning in Tennis-sea

I wasn't really disappointed at losing 6-3 to someone I had beaten the times we played before. I was more upset at my lack of emotion at losing. I went out there just to hit hard and serve hard. I actually hit 2 aces and a couple more unreturnable serves, which is a lot for me and made a handful of good shots. The rest was just bad mistakes. But instead of being torn up about it, I really didn't mind either way. I would have liked to have played better but wasn't that upset I didn't. It's kind of upsetting that I'm not upset. After the continuing drama of last season, there's nothing that big to be playing for. I'm just hitting a tennis ball. I guess I need to find some drama, find some enemy, find some drive for me to play. I guess I need to figure out a way to make me want it more. I do want to improve, I do want to play better, but hitting a couple times a week isn't going to do much. I have improved my serve, but I don't really have the time or money to make a surge in how I play. I think my mental struggles are over and now I'm just dealing with my limited talent and ability. It's a different place for me to be and I guess I just need to find a way to get comfortable here.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Chasing Cars

It won't always be like this. Someday things will be different...someday soon. Just hold on, ride the wave you're on or just float underneath it, letting it pass over you as you stay in your moment...calm, peaceful, serene. Someday we'll chase cars and "forget the world." Unless, the damage is done. Unless, the wounds are too deep to heal.

Friday, August 1, 2008

Come Back, Roger Federer

Roger Federer lost again. That's not a good sign. As much as I always hoped for someone to take him down, to see him fall so rapidly is shocking and upsetting. I think I always wanted him challenged, but I didn't want to see him dethroned. Maybe it's a momentary lag--there's still the Olympics and the US Open. Maybe this is just a little window to let people know they shouldn't be taking him for granted. It's strange seeing how even the most holy of us can fall without warning. But that's the price for scaling higher than everyone else.
I guess it's hard being witness to someone's mortality when he seemed so immortal. It reminds me that if the greatest can fall, anyone can follow.