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...

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