Wednesday, May 11

Motivationizal Seminizar.

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(My hair is at least this long right now, if not longer.)

The house is spotless, the bills are all paid, the cats have been properly nourished and the Missus is sleeping soundly. Why is it that when life is at its most perfect and stable, it is also at its most boring?

I'm certainly not one of those people that craves trauma and emergency. There's nothing that makes me happier than wasting away an entire evening in front of the television with the Missus. Any happiness that I once took in making things difficult has long escaped my stranglehold of failure. Every now and then, however, I feel like I want to throw a chair through my patio door just to clean up the broken glass.

I should cherish these moments. 90% of the time, there's something wrong with something. It doesn't matter if it's money, the car, work, anything. Most of your life you spend fixing something that's broken. You should enjoy the moments of peace when they are handed to you, but they're usually taken for granted. I'm not trying to make any point here, just an observation about what it takes to be happy.

I've learned to accept that happiness comes in small packages. Happiness isn't a lifestyle. Happiness isn't a long and wonderful marriage or friendship. Happiness isn't found in a self-help book or seminar. Happiness is making five green lights and a yellow on your way to work. Happiness is petting two cats at the same time. Happiness is a cookie. Somewhere along the way, I changed my perception of what it took to make me happy, and it's really made a difference. Sure, I'm still an ass, and I more or less want everyone to stop bothering me, but it's way better than it used to be.

For therapeutic purposes, here are three things that made me happy today:

1. I took a 110-minute lunch at work, and nobody noticed.
2. Anthony Federov is going home.
3. I went to a baby shower today, and hearing all the middle-aged women talk about marriage made me really appreciate my wife all the more.

(As a bonus, the baby shower was on work time, so I technically got paid to go to it. I also make a point to go to the bathroom right before I leave work, so I get paid to do that, too.)

Allow me to take you by the hand, and lead you into the comments section. Now tell me, what makes you happy? (Don't say "the CDP", because I already know. Man, I wish I was as hot as my Avatar look-alike.)

Monday, May 9

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now.

(Allow me to get you all caught up. Sentences are condensed for your convenience.)

1. The Bill Rebane Film Festival was pleasing. You really should have been there. Mike Nelson & Kevin Murphy were crowd-pleasers as usual. Mystery Science Theater 3000 is still the greatest non-animated show in the history of television.

2. The Mother's Day festivities went well. I was in the sun for less than a half hour, and burned both of my arms. I don't like the idea of a giant, flaming ball in the sky being close enough to blister your flesh. That's doesn't make me feel safe at all.

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2001-2005

3. My fish died this weekend. He was a Betta named "Master". (I was 19 at the time, and that was a very funny and clever joke. Still is, really.) He was the first pet I've ever independently owned, and I babied the guy for at least 4 years (that's a long-ass time for a fighting fish). I'll miss you, buddy.

4. Weezer's "Make Believe" comes out tomorrow. Pick up your copy and be disappointed with yet another terrible Weezer album. I'll see you in line.

5. Who do you think would win in a fight between Robert Smith and Morrissey? I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I'd like some input. They're members of 2 of my favorite bands, and I was just wondering what would happen should they decide to go at it one night.

I can see it now. At a pub somewhere after the Leeds Festival, knocking back pints of Guinness. Robert says something snide about being a vegan, Morrissey makes a fat joke, and all of a sudden they're taking it outside. They've both competed for the title of "musical king of emotional pain and suffering", but this time...

It's personal.

I think Robert would win, specifically because he's got about 50 pounds on Morrissey, and he's really into soccer ("football") and rugby. I don't think Morrissey would know what hit him. However, Morrissey's probably about six inches taller than Robert, maybe he could bop him on the head or something. It's a real head-scratcher, but the fans would be the true winners.
It should be an interesting week here at the CDP. New things are-a-comin'!