Driven to Distraction

What the hell was I going to DO tonight today?  So many things.  I’m sick to death of making lists and getting nothing done.  So I’ll blog about it. Yeah, that’ll help.  Every once in a while I actually wish to be one of those hyper-organized type A people I usually can’t stand to even be in the same room with….[bitch.  Sorry, uncalled for quasi-inside joke.]  I can’t even seem to stay in the same room as my glass of wine.  Hush.  Yes, I started this last night and then got distracted.  You’ll get it this morning afternoon, and you’ll like it, okay?  Okay.  Wait, did I start a load of laundry and forget to close the damn lid again?  Of COURSE I did.  It’s not as though there’s any more efficient way to do laundry.  It’s…evaporative cleaning, yes.  Patented and shit.  Ugh.  Where to start, where to start…

Flashbacks.  Had dinner and drinks with an old friend the other night.  Always a trip.  He just kills me…how do some people just refuse to grow up, at all, ever?  I love the kid to death, but COME ON.  I am a master of the art of denial, but this young man is in for a rude awakening.  Whatever, that’s his situation.  I guess all I can do is say so and hope for the best.  Anyway, somehow we got onto the subject of prom.  Oh yes, thank you, Inside Edition, for your WARNING, THIS IS WHAT YOUR PRESHUS INNOCENT CHILDREN MAY BE WEARING TO PROM segment.  It’s as if Bill O’Reilly never left.  So he’s all, I never went to prom, and I’m all REALLY?  Well, that’s okay, you didn’t miss much.  I went twice and it was super silly.  

Him:  Yeah, we figured we could either buy tickets and rent tuxes and pay for dinner, or we could just get some hotel rooms and get right to the party.  Don’t you remember this?

Me.:  Wait.  What?  That was…?  Er……okay, yeah, I REMEMBER that.  I guess I’d forgotten it was your PROM night.  Um.  Yeah.  Ahem.  Funny.  HOLY SHIT.  Do you realize that was almost HALF our lives ago?  Probably MORE than half your life ago?  That part does not seem real.  

Not awkward or anything.  Actually, it’s kind of funny how it really wasn’t.  I suppose that’s the risk you run in staying friends with anyone who’s known you that long.  If you ever had any stupid teenage fun together, they KNOW shit about you.  Unless you were one of those good teenagers.  If that’s the case, you’re reading the wrong blog.  Well, that’s a dumb thing to say write.  Like being a teenager all over again.  Like my FACE lately.  Hello, stress hormones?  STOP IT.  A matched set is always nice, but triplicate is TOO MUCH.  It is the tritest thing ever for a thirty year old woman to bitch about zits and wrinkles at the same time.  Yes, I’ve seen the marketing.  I will not buy it.  Somehow I’m quite sure that naming the thing Makeup Optional does not make it so.  Le sigh sigh sigh.  At some point I’m really going to have to at least pretend to care, huh?  Hmmm.  This is not at all where I meant to go with this.  Why did I walk into this room again?

Friends.  That’s why.  They are good for me.  The other night I posted my facebook status as ELL OH ESS TEE, and my friend in Florida happened to log on not too long afterward, IMMEDIATELY called me up and asked if I needed directions, something mapquested, etc.  I laughed so hard.  So hard.  Not at the idea that I might be actually lost, because…well, let’s be honest.  I’m always lost.  Just at the fact that we have both changed so much since seventh grade.  She had no clue that I was talking about teevee, she called, Mike picked up my phone, she said, what are you guys doing?  Getting ready to watch some LOST.  Oh.  Hilarity ensues.  Same friend that immediately calls me up when she hears it’s National Procrastination Week.  She thought that was hilarious.  I find it embarrassingly apt.

So what now?  Oh yes, conclusion.  If these people don’t blackmail you with the things they know?  Hang on to them.  Live, love, laugh and all that.  I’m not a big fan of the whole “no regrets” philosophy (because maybe you’re stupid), I’ve had a few.  I guess that’s the other thing we were talking about.  As weirded out as I may be by the thought of these being my dirty thirties [gag], there is definitely a certain upside.  Most days I can pick my battles.  Some people would consider the ones I choose not to fight (hi, dust bunnies!) important ones, but…meh.  Life is too short.  In some respects, I’m a complete hedonist.  I love and hate that about myself.  I remember taking one of those aptitude tests as a kid, where they ask a bunch of seemingly random questions to figure out what kind of job would be good for you in the future (ha…I could write for days on that tangent).  It came out with some hilarious result that I valued security and routine almost nil.  That I should be a tightrope walker or a bungee jumper or who knows what ridiculous things they actually suggested (no offense to you adrenaline junkies).  Point being – I valued things like that so very low because I’ve always HAD security and stability.  Completely taken for granted as a child – resented, in fact.  Having now worked with several kids that may never have it, all I know for sure is that I am one lucky mofo.  Many thanks to those that never let me forget it.  On that note, I shall go do some grownup thing…what was it?  Grocery store.  I think I still know where that is.  Now where’s the list?  Hey!  It’s not even noon yet.  I could go later, right?  


6 thoughts on “Driven to Distraction

  1. suntzusays says:

    I considered initializing my nitpick self-routine on the hedonism digression (since those too clever by half utilitarian moral tendencies I have are very much like hedonism in its classical form sometimes). I decided against it. But in any case, I need to get back to being a forest ranger and finding those wandering bears stealing picnic baskets. Or whatever it is that forest rangers do.

  2. Whoa. That first sentence totally does not compute. Dumb it down for me, please. Saying that's not hedonism? I googled very little for this, obviously, so…inaccuracies abound.LOL. I do love working without a net.

  3. suntzusays says:

    I suppose your choice to avoid worrying about dust bunnies could be reflective of hedonism. But it's equally possible that that's a stoicism effect (ie, that you don't care about dust bunnies despite social pressures that say you should). Likewise, the result of "not valuing security and stability" isn't necessarily hedonistic either. Hedonism is mostly pleasure seeking activity but it's not simply going out and getting wasted/high or having sex or simply eating marshmallows and popcorn until you get sick or whatever it is that people usually consider it as (here I blame Judeo-Christian moralizing for distorting the meaning of the term). It is more a subjective exercise in what is required to provide some innate goods (defined as desirable pleasures) to yourself. This may include so-called altruistic acts (I'm not sure I believe altruism exists anymore, no offence is intended) like your CASA volunteering or simple things like walking or playing with your dog or gardening, in addition to having a beer or a stiff drink once in a while with one's choice of companions. It may also include a baseline of stability and security as a requisite of enjoying yourself in other ways (ie, your notice that you're not being blackmailed for having had some fun in your youth is a good baseline of security). It's entirely possible that not desiring "security" becomes a hedonistic exercise in thrill seeking or pleasure seeking for some people, but I'd say it's unlikely, as you mentioned, that you actually don't desire some form of security. Intrusive or obvious security perhaps is to be avoided, but this is true enough of almost all people. What you desire is a unnoticed level of security that you can take for granted. But the point is that this is not necessarily hedonism. I'd say it's more like human nature. I'd hardly suggest that's something to be annoyed about on its own. Only if your pursuits of pleasures are too, decadent, for lack of a better term, and lead you into more painful experiences on balance is it something to actively hate about yourself. If you were a meth addict for example. The utilitarian stuff basically says that your best moral outcomes are the ones that produce the least worst case scenarios in tough circumstances (ie, the least harm or pain). This results in a hedonistic calculus that indicates that pleasures are not bad in and of themselves for individuals or for society as a whole, but it's a bit vague on the whole "pleasures" thing. I think again it basically says "pleasure is good, pain is bad", but it's rather unclear on what causes either, suggesting that these are often subjective things with the only limitation being that inflicting harm and pain is probably not really pleasurable. In other words: Whatever floats your boat. Just don't start rocking mine.

  4. Ahhh. I see. Gross misuse of the term. Funny. If I'm going to do a halfway incoherent rant, I shouldn't edit. At all, maybe. I went back and added those two sentences, looked twice at it, hmmm, publish. Delete when in doubt, I guess. Or, don't add. Or, google stuff.

  5. suntzusays says:

    This comment has been removed by the author.

  6. LOL. Watch it, chump – I know a couple editors. One of them wears a big ring. (Sorry, we're actually listening to Method Man thanks to the Wire, I get a little carried away.) I'd agree with that, wholeheartedly.

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