If you could get in a time machine and visit your past self at any point, what would you tell them?
My previous go-to answer was "Invest in Red Velvet anything." My new answer is something along the lines of "YOU LITTLE SHIT, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW GOOD YOU HAVE IT."
I'm exaggerating. But the sentiment is, to put it in the most painfully generic cliche, is "You don't know what you've got till it's gone."
But is this even worth saying anymore? Everyone already knows this. We just set it aside in our minds, and get reminded of it now and again, whenever change hurts us.
Maybe a better cliche to use (and a slightly healthier attitude to adopt) is "The grass is always greener..." In just the way I envy the Owen's at different points in history, they might find reason to envy me. There was a point when I was hopelessly frustrated artistically, but incidentally, also happier socially. Unhappy romantically, but satisfied professionally. Etcetera, etcetera. Not saying that any of these are linked, or that the universe works on some cosmic trade-off system. Just that nothing is ever perfect, and nothing is ever hopeless.
Every cloud has a silver lining. And every silver lining has an even thinner lining of shit. Those shit-lining's have trace elements of silver, which are in turn microscopically contaminated with shit, and so on, ad infinitum.
(...When am I gonna stop ending my blog posts with bleak, inconclusive world views? When the world stops being a grey, amorphous haze of silver and shit.)
Friday, October 19, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
On Surviving Sports Seasons
I should clarify for the sake those who have never met me and have somehow accidentally typed this URL into their browsers... I'm not a sports fan. Sure, I can watch sporting events and get into the spirit if I'm with friends or family, but in general, I never got into them. To use an analogy: Soccer is to Most Americans what Every Sport is to Owen.
But, like a harmless, nerdy Dexter Morgan, I have to find a way to fit in with normal human beings. And every so often, human beings will try to talk to me about sports. Here is the strategy guide I've devised for myself.
1. For those close to you, just be honest.
My friends, family, and coworkers already know my deal. So no worries there. But for everyone else, like acquaintances and strangers trying to make small talk...
2. Don't invite the conversation. If you can help it, just avoid sports. I own exactly one SF Giants shirt (my sister bought it for me). But the only time I DON'T wear it is during baseball season. It's like a signal to the world to quiz me on current events. I don't want to put on a shirt and have to wonder whether I should act excited or disappointed about a game I didn't watch. But, when that conversation is unavoidable...
3. Act upset that you missed the game.Sometimes strangers will ask if I saw the game, and fucking of course I didn't, but rather than kill the small-talk rhythm already set in motion, I say "Nawww, I missed it!" in a tone of voice that says "Darn my luck! Please fill me in on all the exciting details of this, our shared interest." Sports fans like to talk. Sometimes you just gotta let'em talk.
4. Don't joke unless you're ready to argue.
This is the MOST counter-intuitive tip for me. Humor is one of my only tools for engaging people in social settings, especially for breaking the ice in awkward or uncomfortable silence. So during sports-centered gatherings, when I'm at my most awkward and uncomfortable, I am socially unarmed. The reason is this: It's too hard to tell who's a sports fanatic and who's a fucking sports fanatic. Sports has joined politics and religion in the category of things that not everyone can take a joke about.
A few years ago, I once said, half joking, that I'd enjoy seeing the Lakers lose. I was then confronted by a very serious Lakers fan asking for justification. I was caught off guard, because I thought that, in the Bay Area, you don't need a reason to hate the Lakers, it's just understood that they're the villains, like Confederate Soldiers. And beyond that, I just wanted to see the underdog beat the favorite (that's valid, right?), but in that moment, I found myself in a serious argument, hurting someone's feelings about something I really did NOT give a shit about. It's really not AT ALL worth the joke.
Long story short, here I am. The uncomfortable, humorless, enthusiasm-feigning Dexter Morgan of sports. So if you're like me, go forth with this wisdom and quietly blend in.
Go team.
But, like a harmless, nerdy Dexter Morgan, I have to find a way to fit in with normal human beings. And every so often, human beings will try to talk to me about sports. Here is the strategy guide I've devised for myself.
1. For those close to you, just be honest.
My friends, family, and coworkers already know my deal. So no worries there. But for everyone else, like acquaintances and strangers trying to make small talk...
2. Don't invite the conversation. If you can help it, just avoid sports. I own exactly one SF Giants shirt (my sister bought it for me). But the only time I DON'T wear it is during baseball season. It's like a signal to the world to quiz me on current events. I don't want to put on a shirt and have to wonder whether I should act excited or disappointed about a game I didn't watch. But, when that conversation is unavoidable...
3. Act upset that you missed the game.Sometimes strangers will ask if I saw the game, and fucking of course I didn't, but rather than kill the small-talk rhythm already set in motion, I say "Nawww, I missed it!" in a tone of voice that says "Darn my luck! Please fill me in on all the exciting details of this, our shared interest." Sports fans like to talk. Sometimes you just gotta let'em talk.
4. Don't joke unless you're ready to argue.
This is the MOST counter-intuitive tip for me. Humor is one of my only tools for engaging people in social settings, especially for breaking the ice in awkward or uncomfortable silence. So during sports-centered gatherings, when I'm at my most awkward and uncomfortable, I am socially unarmed. The reason is this: It's too hard to tell who's a sports fanatic and who's a fucking sports fanatic. Sports has joined politics and religion in the category of things that not everyone can take a joke about.
A few years ago, I once said, half joking, that I'd enjoy seeing the Lakers lose. I was then confronted by a very serious Lakers fan asking for justification. I was caught off guard, because I thought that, in the Bay Area, you don't need a reason to hate the Lakers, it's just understood that they're the villains, like Confederate Soldiers. And beyond that, I just wanted to see the underdog beat the favorite (that's valid, right?), but in that moment, I found myself in a serious argument, hurting someone's feelings about something I really did NOT give a shit about. It's really not AT ALL worth the joke.
Long story short, here I am. The uncomfortable, humorless, enthusiasm-feigning Dexter Morgan of sports. So if you're like me, go forth with this wisdom and quietly blend in.
Go team.
Friday, October 5, 2012
On Self-Love And Lack Thereof
A weird thing happens when you find yourself more alone than you used to be (Weird phrasing, but deliberate. Shut up and humor me.). You turn a lens on yourself in a way you didn't before. People tell me it's a chance to grow, to figure things out. I hope they're right. Because what the fuck else am I gonna do with my time?
It's a messy process. You start with painful questions, but slowly hone in on the more important, more existential, still-painful questions. "Who is going to love me?" becomes "Why would anyone love me?" becomes "What is there to love about me?", and the distinction between those is important. (Eventually the questions devolve into "Oh God, who AM I?" and "WHY IS ANYTHING?!?!?" but let's get back to the love part.)... Because the progression from love to self-love is a crucial, elusive, and maddening step to take.
Self-love has never come to me easily (or at all), but I recognize, objectively, its importance. That said, I've composed a list of the things about me that one could potentially love.
1.) I'm pretty cool once you get to know me.
S'all I have so far. But it's a positive statement that I can say about myself with sincerity. So I guess it's a start. (Nevermind that it's also the cop-out "compliment" that you can also use to describe any asshole friend that your other friends hate.)
And so I finish the post as I finish many other things in life. Inconclusive and confused. There's not always a pretty line to end with, some neat conclusion in summation of victory or defeat. I'm still working on it. I haven't figured it out. And it's possible that I never will. But I should probably keep trying. Because what the fuck else am I gonna do with my time?
Not everyone is as grim as me. If, perhaps, you would like the uplifting counter to this depressing post, you may enjoy this post by my friend Regina.
It's a messy process. You start with painful questions, but slowly hone in on the more important, more existential, still-painful questions. "Who is going to love me?" becomes "Why would anyone love me?" becomes "What is there to love about me?", and the distinction between those is important. (Eventually the questions devolve into "Oh God, who AM I?" and "WHY IS ANYTHING?!?!?" but let's get back to the love part.)... Because the progression from love to self-love is a crucial, elusive, and maddening step to take.
Self-love has never come to me easily (or at all), but I recognize, objectively, its importance. That said, I've composed a list of the things about me that one could potentially love.
1.) I'm pretty cool once you get to know me.
S'all I have so far. But it's a positive statement that I can say about myself with sincerity. So I guess it's a start. (Nevermind that it's also the cop-out "compliment" that you can also use to describe any asshole friend that your other friends hate.)
And so I finish the post as I finish many other things in life. Inconclusive and confused. There's not always a pretty line to end with, some neat conclusion in summation of victory or defeat. I'm still working on it. I haven't figured it out. And it's possible that I never will. But I should probably keep trying. Because what the fuck else am I gonna do with my time?
Not everyone is as grim as me. If, perhaps, you would like the uplifting counter to this depressing post, you may enjoy this post by my friend Regina.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
On The Will Of God
My faith has changed. It has wavered, and evolved, and been compromised over and over again. That in itself can constitute an entire post. But for right now, let's talk about what we think God does.
We make a lot of guesses about the will of God, about His plan for us... But really, what if God's plan is to leave us to our own devices? Not to drop us hints, or send us gifts, or impose upon us challenges of strength and character, but to leave us alone? What if His "plan" has always been to make a world of fortune and misfortune occurring in equal randomness?
A lot of people, my mom especially, try to console me about recent events saying that God has a plan, or that everything happens for a reason. But isn't it entirely possible that not every bad thing that happens is lesson or test or challenge from God? And if we accept that, then not every good thing that happens is a gift from Him.
Yes, often times there's a silver lining that's easy to attribute to God. But other times, in the face of misfortune, it's much easier for me to accept that He is simply hands off than to rationalize why He chose to give us a particular tragedy.
It makes for a colder, more distant understanding of God.
But sometimes, for me, it makes more sense.
We make a lot of guesses about the will of God, about His plan for us... But really, what if God's plan is to leave us to our own devices? Not to drop us hints, or send us gifts, or impose upon us challenges of strength and character, but to leave us alone? What if His "plan" has always been to make a world of fortune and misfortune occurring in equal randomness?
A lot of people, my mom especially, try to console me about recent events saying that God has a plan, or that everything happens for a reason. But isn't it entirely possible that not every bad thing that happens is lesson or test or challenge from God? And if we accept that, then not every good thing that happens is a gift from Him.
Yes, often times there's a silver lining that's easy to attribute to God. But other times, in the face of misfortune, it's much easier for me to accept that He is simply hands off than to rationalize why He chose to give us a particular tragedy.
It makes for a colder, more distant understanding of God.
But sometimes, for me, it makes more sense.
Monday, October 1, 2012
On The Rampant Epidemic Of Optimism
It seems like, upon hitting their mid-to-late 20's, all of my friends on facebook decided to be absolutely, unfailingly, and aggravatingly positive.
On one hand, that's great, and I'm very happy for all of you...On the other hand where the fuck is this all coming from?? Did I miss a mass email from God that said the world was now magic?
An entire generation embracing self-love and confidence. It's like the opposite of high school. And it disturbs me. People will post pictures of a frappuccino with the caption "Life is good!"... I mean I get that frappuccino's are delicious, but that doesn't work to nullify the inertia of a universe slanting always toward loss and disorder, am I right guys?? .........guys?
I'm just saying... All I see now on facebook is marathons and babies and crossfit and fashionable cupcakes and Disney's Cars Land and ALWAYS some iteration of "life of good", as if these tokens represented accurate cross-sections of the nature of life.
Maybe it's that pessimism and insecurity don't make for good facebook posts.
Maybe I feel that someone needs to balance the Force.
Maybe I'm just sad that everyone my age has seemed to figure out this happiness thing and I'm left behind. Or maybe I'm just sad that I don't currently have a frappuccino.
And I understand the counter-argument is "Owen, just have a better attitude and be more grateful for shit". But as it turns out, telling someone to be happy has never in history ever made anyone happy.
All I know is, I can't be the only one. Somewhere out there are my fellow closet cynics, wary of Murphy's Law, nodding knowingly as they read this, saying "Yeah, man. Life is kinda crappy sometimes."
This one's for you.
tl;dr Winter is coming.
On one hand, that's great, and I'm very happy for all of you...On the other hand where the fuck is this all coming from?? Did I miss a mass email from God that said the world was now magic?
An entire generation embracing self-love and confidence. It's like the opposite of high school. And it disturbs me. People will post pictures of a frappuccino with the caption "Life is good!"... I mean I get that frappuccino's are delicious, but that doesn't work to nullify the inertia of a universe slanting always toward loss and disorder, am I right guys?? .........guys?
I'm just saying... All I see now on facebook is marathons and babies and crossfit and fashionable cupcakes and Disney's Cars Land and ALWAYS some iteration of "life of good", as if these tokens represented accurate cross-sections of the nature of life.
Maybe it's that pessimism and insecurity don't make for good facebook posts.
Maybe I feel that someone needs to balance the Force.
Maybe I'm just sad that everyone my age has seemed to figure out this happiness thing and I'm left behind. Or maybe I'm just sad that I don't currently have a frappuccino.
And I understand the counter-argument is "Owen, just have a better attitude and be more grateful for shit". But as it turns out, telling someone to be happy has never in history ever made anyone happy.
All I know is, I can't be the only one. Somewhere out there are my fellow closet cynics, wary of Murphy's Law, nodding knowingly as they read this, saying "Yeah, man. Life is kinda crappy sometimes."
This one's for you.
tl;dr Winter is coming.
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