Life's little lessons

As I enjoyed my mostly blogless fall break, I did several things that I don't normally do: first, I videotaped myself trimming my toenails, and second, I revisited the Matrix sequels, two films which I quite enjoy, but haven't watched in well over two years.

While the toenails are a bit harder to explain, the movies are the sum of the remainder of an unbalanced equation inherent to the programming of the Matrix. Plus, I really like them, in spite of what everyone else on Earth thinks of them. Concordantly, I got a rush of nostalgia from watching them, and suddenly remembered a ton of stuff pertaining to the two years before my senior year of high school. Vis-a-vis, forensics, theatre, journalism, mixed chorus, English 11, precalculus, and some other stuff, all rushed back into my mind. But there was a problem: all I could remember of the subjects were bullet points. There was nothing of substance in my memories, no recollection of the events, just the facts that I wrote such and such a column, and that I made it to state, but didn't qualify for finals.

It was some time in the middle of my watching The Matrix Revolutions that I got an email from an old friend of mine, who graduated back in 2004. Actually, he was much more than a friend. He was certainly something that I would call an idol. He was valedictorian of his class, he could act, dance, sing, place in state finals, everything. And it was at that point that I felt, "Wow... There's something behind this."

And so I went for my trademark walk around the cross-country track. I go out there a lot, when I need to think about things that are going on in my life, and this was certainly something. I began talking out loud to myself, concerned primarily about the fact that 2004 was rushing back to me, yet I couldn't remember any of it, and that since it was decidedly the last year before the major life changes began to take place, it held some significance in my current predicament.

And I made some important discoveries on my walk, mostly that it's fun to yell things in a public area while nobody else is around. But the revelation I feel like I was meant to make didn't come until Monday. I had just gotten back to my dorm from lunch, and was watching some of the specials on the second disc of Revolutions when I discovered as I walked to my sink to brush my teeth that my sink was nearly full of rust-infested water. Long story short, some calls were made around, and then the plumber on campus came in to look at my sink, remove the U-bend, stick a snake tube in to remove the obstruction, realize that the obstruction was much further down than he had thought, get a bigger snake tube to go further down, and finally unclog my sink.

It was after all this, as I was brushing my teeth, that I figured out what I was supposed to learn from all this: when you don't like the way something is, change it.

I'm sure that all of you are probably zOMG'ing about that no-duh revelation, but honestly, it wasn't something I had considered before. I was so used to letting myself believe that things in life will happen how they will happen, and that there isn't much that we can do about any of the circumstances we find ourselves in, but there it was, a solution to my sink problem.

And maybe there is merit to try, trying again. As much grief as I gave the concept in one of my earlier posts, the obstruction was cleared after the plumber went and got a different tool.

And I think that's what made me a happier person before my snior year of high school. I didn't accept circumstances as they were, I set out to achieve my goals even if I was afraid to do so. I think that's what I need to do now. I need to fix things that I have problems with, even if it'll take a little work.

Ergo, I hereby rescind any and all times in which I might have said that "this is just how things go."

Blogging from bed

I'm sitting in front of my computer, typing this out on my iPod, not because it's fun to do so (though it is pretty fun), but rather because my computer can't connect to the internet and my iPod can. Oh, there goes the internet on my computer.

Okay, now I'm on my bed. Typing this out on my iPod. And this thing is just amazing. It holds all of my music (that I listen to), most of my movies (which I can swap out when I feel so inclined), and more amazingly, I'm typing this blog out on it. I'm logged on to the Internet with my iPod (which knows what I meant to type when I accidentally hit a wrong button or two on its keyboard.

But that I'd only a pre-tangent to what I want to write about today. See, I was listening to my music after classes this morning, and I don't think it's uncommon to feel like your music know how you feel and finds the appropriate songs to bolster whatever feeling you're ... well, feeling.

My iPod takes it a step further, and seems to predict what I'm about to feel (just like it predicts what I'm about to type). Let me run down the situation: I frequently listen to this thing now that I have it, and lemme get this out of the way, I don't have that many love songs. At all. I'd say most of my music is general rock affair, with maybe an eighth of it being love songs. I also have roughly 500 songs on here. An eighth of 500 is 62, which I just figured out on this thing's calculator.

Of that, it seems that this thing knows when I'm ABOUT to run into somebody I like. Because it'll start playing an appropriate song before we even cross each other's paths.

And this is another one of those mysteries of life that I just have no clue as to what I'm supposed to make of this. Is this God? Is this Satan? Is this just my imagination or mind or heart or whatever department it is that handles this kind of thing in my body? Who is playing this joke on me, and for what audience?

And more importantly, what do I do? I've already made a move, way back ago, and it didn't end well. So my natural instinct is to just let this all slide and forget that it ever happened (happens). But what if that's the wrong move? Would I know what an idiot I was? Or would by hoping that things can move forward and making the same move twice would I be made all the bigger a fool for not realizing my folly the first time?

I say this now to represent my despair: Grah.