Time to move in?

It's the end of August, which is about when, a year ago, I started to awaken from the fog of the initial trauma of completely destabilizing my life and transitioned into the slow burn of disappointment and dissatisfaction that characterized the following six to eight months. It was almost exactly a year ago that I had my couch delivered to me just moments before I ran out the door to the company ballpark picnic in Durham (which is tonight again) and then headed to Richmond the following day for my first visit with the Southern Lipchaks since moving.

In that year since pulling the shrink wrap off my couch, very little has changed here at 931-102 Washington Street (physically/aesthetically speaking, I mean). Same hooks and pictures on the walls. Same magnets on the fridge. Same obsolete electronics on the plywood thing I call my entertainment center... the place looks as unappreciated of a living space as it ever did. I could probably--couch accepted--pile everything I own back up into the same size truck I rented to bring it all down here. And do it as quickly as I moved it all in. My life here lacks a comfortable permanence or a permanent comfort...

I think it's time to resolve to stay here. There was always that chance--especially when I was laid off for a week back in April--that the new colony would not be a permanent one; call it Roanoke II. But now? Where could I go that would not be just as difficult (or more so) than staying here in Raleigh? I have a growing pool of friends thanks to the Y, volleyball, AIA, etc., and still see teaching at NCSU as a likely possibility in the future. People are starting to recognize my face (even if I haven't been so forward as to introduce myself by name). I'm starting to learn where "the scene" is and when to be in it and when to avoid it...

This apartment may not be--very likely won't be--a long term home, but it has to start getting appointed by things that make it homey and hold some meaning for me. When I finally do break down and invite friends over, I don't want them taken aback by the barrenness of the place and the consequent suspicion about the barrenness of my personality. The fact that I don't own the place shouldn't prevent me from making into my own.

Unrelated side note: grocery shopping is MUCH more fun when NC State students are back in town. Yes, more crowded, but crowded with good-looking youngins. I'll wait an extra few minutes in line if it means I can stare a little.

Tidal Wave

NC State begins a new academic year this week, so the city has endured a storm surge of unshaven, T-shirt wearing post-adolescent boys and doe-eyed, short-short wearing coeds in recent weeks. Naturally, I'm ambivalent. Traffic is getting worse (and not just volume... these teenage boys are just DUMB drivers, and I suspect the girls aren't much better). Bars will be even more full and noisy, food will be scarcer, diseases rampant, pedestrian accidents at all time highs...

The influx of students--some tens of thousands city-wide--changes the energy dynamic of the city quite profoundly. You can smell the hormones in the air--all that repressed sexual energy being released by huge crowds of horny teenagers. It motivates them. They all jump in their late-90's model Toyotas and Hondas and cruise downtown or to Glenwood, talking overly loud, in the hopes that SOMETHING will happen. There's hope and wonderment and palpable potential. If someone could harness that energy for good (and not eeevil), the world would be a different place.

All this energy comes with a tinge of saddness to someone like me. You realize quickly that all this is NOT FOR YOU. This energy that these kids are pouring out to each other... well, you are background. You're a tree. A parked car. Scenery. Stage work. Obstacle, perhaps? And in the process, they drown out the energy that may be coming to you from outside their youthful horde. They are a distraction and an attractive nuisance.

Prepare for the flood.

regrets of a 31-year old bachelor

This summer I've been hanging out with my volleyball friends, who range in age from slightly younger (1-2 years) to significantly younger (6+ years), and it's been great fun. But as I listen to the stories of youthful indiscretion (perpetrated years ago or as recently as last week), I have to admit that I held myself back from a lot of fun (though potentially risky) behavior during my college and post-college years.

I realize that some people get exciting late in life--called "late bloomers," as if we've been locked in a state of physical pre-adolescence and are getting our flood of hormones decades late. The tragedy with late blooming is that people your own age don't have the patience for someone who wants to act like a 23-year old, and the 23-year olds aren't very taken with the idea of a creepy old guy hanging around. It's enough to put a halt to the bloom altogether.

My perception in high school and college was that my priorities were the right ones--hard work, industriousness, proper amounts of sleep, reverence for parents, respectful distance from women, generally clean living, no substance abuse, personal betterment, etc. etc. What a mistake! Who was feeding me that BS? I blame TV and movies, to be honest. And no thanks to you, Ben and Maggie--you dropped the ball as older siblings when it came to showing me the upside of personal corruption. By the time I became a frat boy, I was inpenetrable... literally uncorruptible. The effort it would have taken to undo the damage of my prolonged chastity was too great for anyone, and the payoff for them would only have been some funny photos and bragging rights.

So here's the lesson to any young sprout reading this blog, which should be balanced with whatever your parents or teachers or preachers are telling you: don't give up your opportunities to be bad, naughty, negligent, corrupt, stupid, and risky. There is some payoff to being responsible, but don't believe that there is no payoff to being irresponsible. And the latter payoff diminishes quickly the older you get. I did as much right as I could and it didn't save me from having regrets. Make sure you have some fun while there's fun to be had.

Job 1:21

I am not a grateful enough person. I think this is because everything I do seems to require way too much effort--I am reminded of a Simpson's episode in which Homer is constructing a do-it-yourself backyard barbeque pit, which he screws up royally. In his cry of frustration he exclaims, "WHY MUST LIFE BE SO HARD?!!!" Everytime I do something, that's how I feel. Yes, those who know me, I see your eyes rolling. Yes, I'm smart. Yes, I went to Harvard. Yes, I am able to avoid failure most of the time. Yes, things are generally good--I don't live in a third world country, I am employable, I have skills, no major medical issues, but nothing seems to come easy or effortlessly. I feel like I work twice as hard as everyone else to stay at the same level of satisfaction.

Like I said, I am not a grateful enough person. I am not the kind of person who is thankful when the Lord giveth, but I definitely notice when the Lord taketh away. I should realize that the things the Lord taketh from me are pretty minor--like the use of a middle finger for a few weeks--but it's hard for me to appreciate the status quo. Who relishes the ability to type unencumbered by a splint? Who appreciates the luxury of having a job to return to every Monday that does better than pay the bills? Who lives in the moment of a kiss and remembers to savor the excitement? Who, having lost these things at one time or another, truly values these experiences and is grateful for them? Sadly, not me. And it disappoints me.

Part of growing up and growing old should be learning to appreciate the value of fleeting experiences, even those that are so common that they don't seem fleeting. How much better would life be if you truly appreciated those everyday things that just go your way without a thought? I need to grow up.