09 September 2005

Saying the wrong things

A one week absence can only mean one thing: that's right, I found meaning in life. No wait, wait. That's wrong. Very, very wrong.

I want to start by partially recanting on saying that Bush was a good dude because of what I saw on the TV. So yesterday, I was reading an article in Time, and I was sort of reminded that if I am seeing an image of the President on TV, especially in this sort of situation, it's PR. And the President understands this, I'm sure. So even if he is genuine in hugging whomever or consoling whomever, it's on the TV. And if there's anything I've learned about the TV, you can't trust it.

But in more important news, I started reading Esquire. What a great magazine. Finally, I can read about shoes and not feel guilty. Seriously, I spent like 30 minutes looking at shoes in this magazine and thinking, I'd love to have those shoes. I look at all the fashions. In high school, I was fond of saying, If I had money, I'd only shop at the Banana Republic. Now, I sort of have money, but it's all going to the University of Birmingham on Monday so I can start learning about "Pedagogic Grammar." I'll let you know what that means once I figure it out, but I can tell you now that it means no 40,000 yen shoes this year.

On the upside? This new job is the shit. It's great. I feel like an adult again. The kids are nice for the most part. I work a lot less and am making more money. The woman who sits next to me in the teachers' room is like the sweetest woman I have ever met.

Well, I found the responses to my contest pretty disappointing. I was hoping to hear something I forgot about. I'm still not over saying stupid shit, especially about my friend Neal. These two gems from the bar on Saturday:

Talking about Neal trying to give up smoking and replacing smoking with another habit, I said, "Well, how about masturbation? You could just masturbate every time you want to smoke." Or worse, when this weird guy from Florida who makes ice for Disney on Ice, the Japan Tour showed up and sat down at our table, the weird dude said, "Man, I love this song! It's like Duran Duran or something." And I said to him, "Yeah, this is the song that Neal lost his virginity to, right Neal?"

That's right, everyone. And I'm still single. Imagine that.

To wrap everything up today, I will end on a serious note: A woman from my church at home died suddenly last week. She was 26 or something and was supposed to get married tomorrow. This had me thinking about dying young and whether or not it is a tragedy. I didn't come to a conclusion about that, but did decide that if I were to die tonight, I would be content with the life I lived and not feel like I missed out on anything. Everything from here on out is cream: I've experienced love (including kissing a girl in the rain), learned a second language, spent the night on bench in any number of odd places, swam in the Sea of Japan, and eaten like 400 popsicles. What else is there?