“My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard/
damn right, it’s better than yours”
That song is used in Mean Girls to illustrate the Plastics walking down the hallway. Damn, it’s a great image — makes them look so damn cool. Just something about the arrogance and lust-object of that song fits perfectly. If we each could only have our own soundtracks, especially as we went through high school — though I recall hearing my own theme song in my head as I did walk down halls, and it did help, yes. Peter Griffin in Family Guy wishes for his own theme song — he hears it when he moves.
But that’s why movie high school is cooler than real high school. It’d be funny to make a movie using all of those cliches: soundtracks, really old people (40s) playing teens, on and on. Yet there is no spirit to satire, no “emotionally engaged” storytelling. Why is that? Are none of our creative centers ever really satirical? Satire comes from that clever place, cerebral, but not feeling like The Onion, my police reports, Family Guy, etc.
Such weird pressures inside my head/sinuses — blowing nose doesn’t make it feel any better this morning. Hope this still goes away on its own. I guess I could go get antibiotic, but I’d rather not — haven’t had one of those in years. Those things do something all the bacteria alter all the bacteria everywhere in your system. I recall hearing not too long ago that it’s better to not blow your nose at all, that blowing forces crap further into sinuses, but how can you not blow your nose? That’d seem to be pretty uncomfortable.
The soundtrack again: your image then is better than your reality. No one can possibly be as cool as on a continuing basis as they are in an image.
Saw J. yesterday at Aldi’s. I was getting eggs for school, egg drop lab; he getting gallon milk. Not much time to talk, so not much to say. I said, hey, let’s play golf this summer — kind of a goofy thing to say, a “let’s do lunch” thing. Oh, it’s alright. He drives a Camry. It would have been nice to talk to him longer, but we both had places to be — well, certainly he did — what, three kids now?
Just before that, I had been practicing mindfulness — there-ness, being there in that place at that time — in Aldi checkout. It helped to recall that feeling I had just had a few weeks ago, that feeling about why feel grief when someone dies? It’s really just the same as them not being with you now, just as when you two part company, and that’s OK. It’s something like: when you live in the present, you have no fear of the future.
And I’ve been getting frustrated with the packing for the new school move, how I was counting on moving my fragile equipment and bulky, hard-to-box stuff myself, but the time frame’s all f**ked up — they won’t let us do it on the 24th, etc. …
Damn milkshake refrain is so catchy — it sticks in my head. M’s, too, she says. On way home from movie, we had to ban each other from singing it so it wouldn’t be in our heads keeping us from sleeping that night. I mean, it’s really an odd song — it’s not at all clear exactly what milkshake is. But oh, well.
Had first asparagus of the spring last night, out of our own patch we started — was it three years ago already? At least two, anyway. Really good stuff.
It’s funny: I ate lots of sugar for a few weeks. Now I’m actually sick of it. Didn’t feel like eating the protein bars or getting a snack last night, though for some reasons I did anyway, got a bag of Kit Kat bars, regular and white and dark chocolate. I feel guilty, like I gave in, like this was one of those tests in life — will power or temptation — and I gave in. I’m sure this is a form of paranoia, but sometimes I see these purchasing and eating decisions as connected, signs of weakness leading eventually to obesity or diabetes or something. Why do I worry so much about diabetes? It’s the fear in back of my mind, though I’m not quite sure why. But lately I almost can’t enjoy sweets for thinking they’re permanently damaging me, the same type of feelings I have after smoking for a couple days — the body’s guilt defense?
That’s what my lungs have felt like the last day or so. Crap in my tubes feels like the crap I get there after smoking for a few days, that dry, hard cough.
Remembering that feeling of not fearing the future I described last page — there’s a good argument for compiling some of my best insights into some kind of handy (at-hand) reader just for me to re-read and remind myself of some of these valuable insights — here’s the argument against forgetting all I’ve already written. In a way, I can’t forget all anyway.
As I get older, I’m not getting more conservative, but I’m getting more tolerant, more accepting, relativist and less rigid and judgmental.
Growing around obstacles/challenges versus growing out in the free space: teachers can force kids to grow by presenting an obstacle for them, like forcing a root to grow around a rock or forcing a tree to grow tall to get sun. But take away other trees, you’ve got a tall, skinny tree that can’t stand on its own, blown over in a breeze (though tall trees good are for lumber, what industry wants, commercially good) or you can grow a tree out in the open, give it full sun, good soil, just let it grow — an interesting analogy. To continue it: growth is inevitable, kids will keep learning things, learning how to get by in the world … what they learn depends on their circumstances.
Journal from Weds. 12 May 2004, in notebook J35.