The Good Ol' Days

Had a weird visit to my old college town, wound up feeling old and judgmental and just out of it in general. I thought at least it would be surreal enough to inspire something creative in me, but after a 6 year absence from the place, I surprisingly had very little reaction to being back. No nostalgia, melodrama, or vague emotional unrest. I must be growing up. But then, to combat that whole maturity thing, I am playing telephone chicken, sort of, waiting out Biffs overdue call. Is it possible that in doing this, I will never speak with her again? Kind of puts a damper on that road trip I've been planning. I planned to have something interesting to say about the visit, but besides self-righteous ranting (and who enjoys that kind of thing when they are not, in fact at a George Carlin or Dennis Leary show?), there just isn't anything real notable. Hey, look at that, a reference to my blog title, how sneaky was that?

Silver lining of a frustrating trip: In the midst of my epic journey to mid-MO, I was stuck in Concourse C of the Oklahoma City airport. Guess what there is to enjoy in Concourse C? Nada, baby. Looked like there used to be a gift shop in the corner, but it probably had to be shut down due to causing too much excitement. So I had a few hours to kill. Took out my notes from my favorite script idea, re-worked all the main characters and ended up deciding to go in a totally direction with a completely different feel to the whole thing. Sure, I created more work for me (read: more writer's blocks to stumble over), but it gave me a whiff of the ol' motivation-to-write that's been heartbreakingly absent over the last few years. Now watch how good I am at continuing to sit on my ass, not writing, for the next several weeks.

Editor's note: This post is a real shame. There should have been something much more interesting to say about the college town re-visit, and I've since learned that writing about writing, or writing about not writing is a snoooooze...

Bitter Pills

Ranty rant rant:

So, despite giving myself some time to dig up a sunnier attitude, the only thing I've accomplished is casting off the guilt of not writing anything in about two months. Everyone could really use a good dose of grow-the-hell-up. Long distance friendships are falling to shit because no one knows how to keep in touch. It's as though my circle of friends has turned into a shmooze fest, where "I'll give you a call" is the same as "take it easy!" I've been trying to be the bigger person, recognize that everyone has a million things that take away from their efforts at communication, but nothing changes. Either they're too busy working, or they're unemployed but too depressed to call, or too drunk to dial, or too immersed in their new relationship, or up when I'm awake and vice versa... Bottom line- maybe not more important (although in my darker moods, that's what I suspect), but definitely more distracting things to do than pick up the phone and refresh a relationship. So I'm finished with being the one to make the effort.

*I may say that, but it's just. not. true. I will keep clinging to these people, convinced I can eventually force them to (stamping foot) pay attention to me again.*

So, forget it. I'm just going to take the pressure off of myself for a bit. Why make the effort? Everyone must have this feeling run through them at some point in their life. It's an immature, dead-end jump into bitterness, but hey, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to.

Now, what was I saying about everyone needing to grow the hell up?