Musings

If asked to characterized my current mental state:

(and no, that's never happened before. I digress.)

I would say (1) general apprehension, and (2) soaking in a kind of hopelessness only a complete belief in fatalism would bring.

Fatalism is about the worst thing in the world. Seriously. I remember first discovering the concept, in high school. I was different then. Things came easier. I was more religious. I thought it silly. I mean, obviously, if I'm making decisions, fate doesn't control everything.

Then came college. Upheaval. Moving from home. New outlook. Camus. Scientific education. An endless litany of stimulus/response. Reproducible results, down to the nearest mL. To know the input is to know the output. No mysteries. The heavens boiled down to a drop.

Fatalism is really science writ large. The human become automaton. You don't decide, you respond. It's Bill Murray's Groundhog Day. If the same day happened over and over again, you would respond the same way to the same stimulus. Perhaps we experience the sensation of choice, but that's it. Really, you're preprogrammed, college/career/marriage set in stone from the moment of conception. Really, before that. Nothing could be done.

But if there's no choice, there's no hope. There's no change. There's no future. The present is just one spot on an uninterrupted whole, the past and future existing in all moments. You, he, she, it, all truly powerless to effect change. Sure, it's depressing, but it was bound to happen. Everything was bound to happen.

Anyway, fatalism as a concept is strangely convincing to the scientist, while I think any artist would quickly cut through the sophistry. You can't disprove fatalism. But you can't prove it either. Choice or no choice, the system is consistent. If you can't prove it either way, so why not live with choice?

And that's how I left it. But sometimes I slip back. It's bound to happen, you know.

4 hours later

I spent 4 hours at Cafe Izmir today. 2 hours at the bar, 2 hours in the restaurant. Different groups of people. I scheduled L.N. and J.S. to meet me there so that I could make the smooth transition from after-work drinks to dinner. Hey, whatever works.

Why do all of my social events involve alcohol? Well, actually, they don't all involve alcohol, but they all involve drinking. Alcohol or coffee. Occasionally tea. I think the thing is, it's easier to meet up with someone you haven't seen in a while if there's a purpose.

I went with a friend of mine to a bookstore the other day. It didn't work as well as drinks. I mean, drinks, you sit there, you drink, you chat. In a bookstore, you've got to wander around, and sound just a little bit uppity telling friend about the books you have and haven't read. And after 20 minutes, you really feel the need to leave.

Luckily, every bookstore worth its salt has a coffee place inside nowadays. So maybe bookstoring is becoming more of a viable option.

Only time will tell; only time will tell.

1984

I think my entertainment choices are beginning to wax dystopian.

All I've done this weekend is (1) watch basketball, (2) watch Sports Night on DVD, and (3) continue reading the stupid book I alluded to in other posts, and (4) blog (occasionally, and not particuarly successfully).

[Wow. An adverb modifying an adverb. I need to work on my writing.]

Anyway. Maybe escapist entertainment is my downfall. I think I need to schedule a weekend sans such entertainment. I mean, I could:

Actually, I don't know what I would do.

That's another problem.

I'm sleepy.

Maximum tiredness

Here we go. Full throttle. I'm tired as all freaking hell so I'm going to go stream of consciousness here.

I don't know why I ever keep myself awake like this. I'm tired as hell, and yet, I'm thinking "oh, let's blog." Why? I'm tired. I should go to sleep.

And yet.

I'm also considering picking up this book and reading it a bit. I'm reading Clear by Nicola Barker. Honestly, so far, it sucks big balls. I'm going to have to decide soon whether I'm going to get enough into it to finish it, or if I should give up now and go straight to the Egyptologist (which I've been wanting to read for quite some time).

Tomorrow. I don't have plans for tomorrow. There are vague plans to watch basketball with J.H. Besides that, I've got nothing. Usually that bugs me. I like to have plans for the weekend. I honestly get depressed if I sit around the apartment all day. I think I make up things to do when stuff like that happens. Like decide I need to shop or something. Which is even more pathetic. But tonight, I'm thinking that sleeping all day tomorrow wouldn't be the worst of all worlds.

My sister fell asleep halfway through her dinner party at my house. I don't pretend to understand her. Everyone kept asking me if she was sick. How am I to know? Don't they know that I don't know or understand my sister? But how can you communicate that to her god-fearing, bible-beating friends without getting the living tar beaten out of you (with a bible, I imagine.)

And, now that you're near the end of this post, you understand why it's better if I do this on more sleep. More self editing. Always a good thing.

Tripped Up While Dating

Is it sad that I didn't know what to do on a date when the girl wouldn't drink?

Then yes, I'm sad.

Regressing

I just watched six Friends episodes back-to-back.

Yeah, a great way to postpone any planned plan. Gahd.

Rain.

Brother left yesterday. A&M lost yesterday. I got up this morning, and felt kinda depressed.

So I drove to Belton.

Too bad it was freaking raining. Like freaking crazy. When I got home, we turned on the weather channel... turns out it was flooding all day in Dallas. The two-hour drive home took three-and-a-half. Grr.

Anyway. Interspersed with my cursing-about-rain/singing-TopOfLungsLike-with-the-Frames, I got to thinking (as, yes, I am wont to do). I'm seven months on in Dallas. And I just don't know. Unsure. I mean, I don't know what I was expecting out of post-law-school life (I know, I've already used up my quotas of hyphens, deal with it), but I'm not sure if this was it. And if this wasn't what I was expecting, really, what was I banking on?

At the risk of sounding like one of those annoying self-help-book-reading type (gahd, stop me, please), I think I need a plan. Then I'd be indifferent re: Dallas, but indifferent with a plan.

But really, I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet. I'm more meta at this point. I'm planning to have a plan, at some point. At this point, I'll count on mindless entertainment (NCAA tourney, anyone?) to propel me through the ennui. And then maybe I'll get more proactive.

Until then, my entries will probably be very boring. You have been warned.

Time to let go

...of basketball.

Seriously, all day today, I couldn't stop myself from checking up on NCAA scores. And I think the big push on it is the bracket. It's just so fun to see if your predictions actually pan out. I didn't actually even put any money on it. It makes no sense.

Anyway, today I co-opted my familial units into going to the Nasher sculpture center with me. It was just great. The temperature couldn't have been better--high 70s, the sun was setting, a light breeze. We walked around the sculpture garden, enjoyed the art, enjoyed the company, just perfect. I've been there twice before, but I think it's more the experience than the art. And I have a new love for Giacometti. (Alright, the stuff I liked the best was in the temporary collection, but whatever.)

My brother's around this weekend. I've decided that I enjoy hanging around with my undergrad brother. He's grown into someone really good-natured, laid-back, and generally just a good guy. I'm very impressed. Given my parents' other efforts, I have to say I'm a little surprised. Actually, I'm always surprised about how similar/different the six of us are. You can definitely pick out physical/intellectual traits we all share, and yet.

Anyway. Buenos Noches.

... and scene.

Just read: Tom Perrota - Little Children
Listening to: She Wants Revenge

Tomorrow I'm signing a lease for a new apartment. Here's the floorplan. And it's close to my soon-to-be-work. All in all, I think it'll be pretty okay nice.

I've suddenly started watching sports all the freaking time. I mean, I think the reason why is pretty clear. Sports are really soap-operaish entertainment. Each time, you're watching a new installment, getting new glimpses into character, an overall story, etc. Also, I have a lot of friends that are guys, and it gives you something to do. It gives getting together for a beer more than a purpose--it's a useful social crutch, especially if you're not the best of friends.

Anyway, resultant, I went to three college basketball games this weekend. The Big 12 tournament was local, and yeah, it was a lot of fun. My aggies flamed out pretty quickly, but it was just nice sitting there, enjoying the spectacle.

I've also started looking for furniture. Which is weird. I have no clue what to get. God. I think I'm going to have to rent a girl for the weekend, or something, to help me pick some stuff out.

Sports and furniture. My life: exquistie ennui?

At least I have assonance...

Cotton candy

V.M. said I made his favorites list. I daren't abuse such a privilege.

I went to a house party last night catered and sponsored my co-worker & her girlfriend. I had a great time. I'm not saying it would have required a lot last night... I had a beer at lunch and two drinks pre-party. The wine at the actual party just put me over the top. I considered myself incredibly witty and engaging, which probably means I was drunkenly stumbling across the room whilst mumbling something incomprehensible about the Seventh Circuit.

Well, it was fun, but not that fun. Something was missing. Or maybe too much was there. The party was at one of the new high-rises downtown, and the decor was definitely pretentious chic. I feel we were angling to match--too much "oh, we're so friggin clever" talk all evening. I think it's the insecurity that breeds with co-workers that only know each other kind-of well. Not full-fledged dead-on friends, but acquaintances. I'm looking to get past that, methinks.

Afterwards, the remaining six (sans roommate/bf and co-worker/gf) went to Fuse, this restaurant/nightclub/bar with a pretty happening patio. Again, I could appreciate it, but it was just a little too Dallas-y, too pretentious, too I-want-to-be-something-else. But lots of slutty-looking girls, so hey, can't be too bad. What lead us to Fuse, you ask? Inertia, and an unwillingness to admit that, yes, the night really was over for us, even though it was only 1130ish. We should have given up. But we powered on to Fuse, and pretended to have a good time. We drank beer, forced out more conversation, pretended to enjoy the surrounding buildings, celebrated more of said cleverness.

Yes, lame, but who wants to be the one to leave first? Not I, my friends, not I.

Of course, considering my ideal night is at some wood-paneled bar with low music and cheap beer, perhaps I'm the one that needs changing, not Dallas. Whatever.

Alaska Airlines #809

A hectic day.

1) Stayed up late last night placating boss (it really was a mistake to give her my cell)
2) Slept in, quickly packed for Seattle/Vancouver, dressed in suit
3) Got to work, realized I forgot my passport, cursed
4) Went to lunch (whilst chauffering boss around), had a glass of wine
5) Got really wine-sleepy around 2ish
6) Got s'bucks around 3ish
7) Left work early to go get passport
8) Went to the airport
9) Found out that I really didn't have a plane ticket to Seattle. I thought I bought one, but ha! Didn't get to the end of the online buying process, cursed.
10-13) Moped.

Bad day

Bad days happen. And today definitely qualified as one of the most stressful days I've had at the ol' job.

But we're going to ignore it.

I got a call this evening from a friend of mine, M.M. A friend indeed, as it were. He had just finished his meal/beer at Chili's (which is conveniently across the street from my apartment), and realized that he had left his wallet at his apartment. Mahatma to the rescue. I came down, had a beer with him, and then paid for everything. It was actually a really nice surprise. And would never happen if I lived out in the boonies (where I am considering). Hmmm.

I also signed up on BoardnetUSA. It's a monster.com-ish kind of place for people who want to serve on boards for nonprofits and nonprofits that need people on their boards. After signing up this morning, I got an email from some board that afternoon that's interested in me. I think it could be fun... I'll get back to you on that.

Anyway, I gots to get packed for the skiing. Boo-yah, yippee, and whatnot.

Listening to: Gorillaz

Inevitable

Inevitable.

Getting beaten by a 40+ year old at racquetball. In my defense, he was really good, and I wasn't. Well, not so much a "defense" as a "reality", but whatever.

Inevitable.

The end of a blog post.

Just FYI

My name's really not Mahatma. But I'm guessing you knew that anyway.

I just went to this great restaurant downtown with M.H. Alright, so it's really not that great--really just unremarkable Tex-Mex. But it's 75ish degrees outside right now, and they had the rooftop patio open. Although it's only on the 3d floor, it just has a gorgeous view of downtown. The restaurant is surrounded by solid skyscrapers, it's next to a nice little plaza, just all very nice. I think of it as a very moneyed view, for some reason, but that may be the NYC'r in me coming out.

I'm starting to think I need a hobby. Which is ridiculous. People don't need hobbies. They need to get a life. Hmm.

Can it be done?

I used to blog. All the time. I would get home each day and decide what I needed to blog. Transformative. It affects your memory. When you write something down, it doesn't matter how it really happened; all you remember is how you put it.

And that's why I want to blog again. Before every memory folds into itself, becoming some indistinguishable goo, I want to grasp some of them. Point them out. Preserving/creating, all in the same gesture. Oh, the power of the author.

We'll try and recall the weekend, bullet-point-style.

1) Lunch with J.S.^2 and J.H., mama's daughter's diner, v. fun.
2) Drinking with J.H. after work.
3) Some coffee/newspaper/working
4) Dinner with a slightly passive-agressive A.L. and an altogether agressive M.G.
5) Drinks/Pizza with the Oklahomans, including one of the aforementioned J.S.'s
6) Texas/Oklahoma basketball with J.H.

A full weekend, by my usual standard. And yet, it's never enough. There's always something outside the periphery, that I should have grabbed, but didn't. I've let it pass for 25 years, what's one day more?

Current book: Saturday by Ian McEwan
Current music: Wolf Parade