So, I completely have avoided my promise to myself and others to pick up where I left off with the blog world. I lied in a sense. It’s not that I didn’t lie, maybe I should say that, but I have not taken the time to actually sit down and write. Aside from being unemployed in what seems to be one of the most jobless cities in the nation, I’ve been keeping busy. I think this is the third weekend in months my girlfriend and I have been home to actually hang around the area. We’ve been on the go with wine tasting, camping, hiking, enjoying zip lines, pumpkin and apple picking… I could go on. We have covered a great chunk of New York State in just a few months.
Aside from taking care of Sarah the past weekends when she was ill, I have been educating myself in the world of Domestic Engineering, a term coined by Johnny Depp in the 1993 flick Benny & Joon. I have cooked, cleaned, played with tools, put holes in walls, and entertained two cats since the middle of August.
Frankly, I have loved every minute of it.
I don’t bide my time well. I look for jobs and submit applications and resumes. I come up with nothing and I go out to do things. Most of the driving is worthless and a waste of gas, but it’s therapeutic in the essence I love not sitting inside and experiencing the simplicity of listening to music, people watching, and admiring nature. The issue is not writing, my true love.
I had been listening to talk radio, trying to get ideas to write about. I do and scribble them down. The “original” idea was to dapple in between the liberal and conservative sides. My buddy, Paul, who is affiliated with the political world, said it was a great idea. However, he also said that no one really abides to someone playing both sides of the spectrum. I have to agree in the sense that people should take one side and stick with it.
If deciding to go with political topics, I am pretty much choosing my blog genre. As Executive Representative for the World Order of Indecisiveness, I wouldn’t be entirely happy. After a while, I would grow tired of it and want a change. Depression would hit and enjoying a cup of coffee wouldn’t do it anymore. There would be an evolution from coffee with half and half to coffee with whiskey, finally maturing to straight whiskey. Unlike Darwin’s evolution, this would be a much faster transition. The process would take an hour at the longest.
Then I thought about sports. I realized this would not suffice when realizing the lack of watching sports. ESPN Sportcenter doesn’t cut it; this is similar to reading Cliffs Notes. Instead of wanting to have a catch, I am more apt to decorate a dining room while catching up with the gossip from the latest Housewives show.
Side note: With Sarah’s introduction to the Housewives series, I have recognized my muckraker side. I get anxious for the fouls of plotted “reality television.” I’m Keep(ing) Up with the Kardashians, The Spin Crowd, and the Housewives (as many as there are). While watching these shows, how edited they are, you don’t realize something off the bat. Until the commercials run, the moment when you snap back into real reality, the question regarding these shows arises: Do these people work?
Of course, they do work. This is part of their income. With all the brand names popping up “nonchalantly” the stars and creators are getting a cut. This is the easy way to make millions. I need to write some novels, some short stories, some poetry (when desperate). These books need to become recognized to be made into a movie. From there, I become more famous. I then have a television show about my life. Boom! There’s my money.
It’s either that to have as many kids in one pregnancy, or bear 19 throughout the years.
It is, however, interesting to get other takes on the White House crashers: Tareq and Michaele Salahi. Can you say bullshit artist?
I just want to write about whatever crosses my mind in the moment–music, literature, events, or whatever it may be. I need to buy a handheld tape recorder, because most ideas come to me while in the shower. The warm water and soap are catalysts. As pores open, the mind does as well. This way my terrible short term memory won’t get the best of me.
This is no longer a test. This is the real thing.