The Nine Faces of Dave
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the thrills are in the details
In the past two days, I have started listening to The Cure,
The Cranberries, and Ace of Base. Now if that doesn't just
scream cool, then I don't know what does.
So I spent pretty much all day yesterday watching an "I Love
the '90s" marathon on VH1 and working on my scarf. I had a
slight problem with the scarf; basically, I discovered that
I really didn't have enough yarn to get as far as I wanted,
but fortunately there's a shorter, equally legit version, as
I had originally planned to make. If I can get some more of
the yarn I need in the right dye lot, I'll be able to handle
the extra length. So I'm hoping for the best, though if the
thing's getting long enough I may quit early. We shall see.
I've been frustrated with my progress at the gym. Although
I got my weight down to 202 after my workout today, I still
have yet to successfully shoulder press 160 pounds. I keep
getting closer, lifting slightly higher each time, and still
the full press eludes me.
And in more significant news, I had a breakthrough today at
work which will make the remainder of my time there so much
easier it's not even funny. And it's a damn good thing too,
because I have to start getting prepared for my final talk,
and I'm nervous as all hell about it. This marks the first
real job I've ever had, where people actually want results,
and presenting on what came out of it all is a pretty scary
prospect. I'll probably be all right though.
Yesterday made me realize how colossally boring my life can
be when I'm not working. Essentially I spent the whole day
watching TV and knitting. Now while the specifics of it may
have been fairly cool (great show, cool project), that sort
of judgement is largely dependent on perspective. I find it
pretty sweet, because I love pop culture and my scarf, and I
like to sit around and relax, especially since I'm generally
pretty beat from the week.
But then I look at what other people are doing on weekends,
travelling and visiting people and all that jazz, and I feel
like I'm missing out on something. Some of it's insane, of
course; why bother going to New York if you only have two or
three days to stick around? Of course, they have cars, and
that makes a huge difference in the way things go.
The point is, my life is work, exercise, culture consumption
and side projects (scarf and guitar mainly). I get up every
weekday and go to work, I go to the gym every other day, and
I get a regular dose of TV, literature, music, and all that
jazz. I've settled into a routine, and I could probably go
on for a long, long time like this without having that much
to gripe about.
And that kind of scares me. Am I really cut out for a life
like this? Routine with occasional exceptions? I guess I'd
always figured I'd need more excitement in my life, but I'm
honestly pretty content with this. Is that good or bad?
There's some portrayal of people with boring lives as boring
people, and I'd like to think that's not always true. Life
is actually fairly interesting for me, but it's in the most
mundane ways. I can rarely share the experience with other
people, because the funny or cool stuff is almost invariably
tied to my bizarre cultural exposure, and if I'm lucky some
friend of mine from upstate New York (there are a few) might
possibly know what I'm talking about.
I guess it's just weird. I've had all this bizarre cultural
exposure, and I retain absolutely worthless information, the
sort of stuff that's beyond trivia, and that's where half of
the excitement in my life comes from. Mundane cool, we can
call it, little thrills in everyday life. Everybody thinks
it's cool when you take a trip someplace, and actually it is
pretty cool. But who wants to hear a story about something
you heard on the radio that was lifted from some decade-old
game that only you and a guy in Albany seem to have played?
Well, my friend from Albany actually did think it was pretty
funny. I guess that's why we're friends.
This is Dave, signing off.