It seems that growing up means realizing more who you are and knowing your own faults and habits and then working to function well in spite of them.
For me, I've come to realize that I'm lazy and will always settle for whatever is "good enough." Conversations with my mom help me to see that it runs in the family. Conversations with friends help me to see how much potential I have. And conversations with those closest to me help me to see how much it affects others.
So in order for some college graduate to be able to move on into the next stage of life, be it adulthood, a better-paying job or more fulfilling relationships, then it seems I have to stop being so lazy.
I could put my talent to use (besides just blathering on in some blog) and write novels, screenplays, free-lance articles that could land me better jobs and help me grow up a little. I could write that stereotypical Great American Novel and get published at the young age of 20-something, insuring cash-flow and a much-coveted income so I could continue to write passionate books that tackle life as we know it today.
But then I'm sure I would get lazy again, since I could roll out of bed any time I felt like it. Have my private Italitan chef Gianluca whip up a greek omlete that melts in your mouth. Try to find something to watch for a half-hour on my satellite television (even though it takes at least 45 minutes just to get through all the channels or watch the preview channel).
I'd lounge around in my papasan chair with a White Russian in one hand and an electronic solitare game in the other until I fell asleep. That would be soooo lazy.
So maybe I won't write that passionate, enthralling novel and condemn myself to a life of excess and laziness.
Maybe I'll just keep writing a blog and use my time better. Maybe I'll not watch so much T.V. Maybe I'll read a little more for fun and write a little more fun. Maybe I'll be a more proactive in my friendships and in finding a better job. That will be more than "good enough," I'm sure.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Under the Radar
The other night I followed a story that would never make it into the papers due the nature of the crime and the result.
The police scanner sqauwked about a possible burglar running around in the gargantuan Merchandise Mart on the Chicago River. He had apparently robbed some store on the fifth floor and maced a couple of security guards.
Police requested multiple canine units to the Mart to track down the burglar. The burglar was first spotted the burglar at 10:30 p.m. one night. They searched for him all night and at one point had cornered him, armed with mace and an automatic handgun, in a stairwell on the eleventh floor.
The scanner didn't provide further details and security guards in the building said all night long that police had not found the person. The search was discontinued at around 6:45 a.m. the next morning because they had not found the man.
In the morning, the police were still lingering around the Mart, and were even holding up Chicago Transit Authority Trains at the Merchandise Mart stop, forbiding anyone from entering the trains at that stop until 7:45 a.m.
Being that the whole fiasco sounds like a scene from Ocean's Thirteen, and that Chicago Police were made to look like good ol' flatfoots, the story was not picked up by any of the news media.
The police scanner sqauwked about a possible burglar running around in the gargantuan Merchandise Mart on the Chicago River. He had apparently robbed some store on the fifth floor and maced a couple of security guards.
Police requested multiple canine units to the Mart to track down the burglar. The burglar was first spotted the burglar at 10:30 p.m. one night. They searched for him all night and at one point had cornered him, armed with mace and an automatic handgun, in a stairwell on the eleventh floor.
The scanner didn't provide further details and security guards in the building said all night long that police had not found the person. The search was discontinued at around 6:45 a.m. the next morning because they had not found the man.
In the morning, the police were still lingering around the Mart, and were even holding up Chicago Transit Authority Trains at the Merchandise Mart stop, forbiding anyone from entering the trains at that stop until 7:45 a.m.
Being that the whole fiasco sounds like a scene from Ocean's Thirteen, and that Chicago Police were made to look like good ol' flatfoots, the story was not picked up by any of the news media.
It's Rolling Rock Time!
I recently spent over an hour sitting in my car with a friend of mine talking and bonding outside his apartment building. Afterwards, we both agreed that we should have just gone to a bar and talked there, rather than steaming up my car windows.
That would have been the perfect time for a Rolling Rock, Sierra Nevada or Blue Moon straight from the tap or in a chilled stein. Such a time of fellowship would have been greatly enhanced by a dark room, some rock music playing in the background, and little bit of moonshine to loosen up our minds and tongues.
I'd take of swig from a green bottle and consider what a true friend this guy is because of his honesty and vulnerability. He's telling me stuff he hasn't told other friends because I'm a guy who has been one of his longest-lasting friends.
And then he throws out his surprising opinion on one of my current relationships. I didn't see that one coming at all but appreciated it all the more just because he felt comfortable enough to put it out there; a possible grenade between friends that could end all conversations and send us each running in opposite directions.
But it didn't. The comment did the opposite and solidified the friendship even more. Such honesty would surely have been magnified if we both had a blood alcohol content of .o1 or .o3. I'm sure situations like these are why God let human beings create such an atmosphere as a bar and such a drink as beer.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Discombobulated by Normalcy
I woke at 8 a.m. this morning and I didn't know what to do. Somehow I've gotten on to a normal person's schedule and I don't know how to act.
Should I go back to sleep since I have to work tonight? Should I make the most of my conscious time?
I hate being in such a dazed state. You can't quite settle in to doing something normal and I almost feel like I have to just entertain my brain long enough to get tired and go to sleep again.
Besides getting a 9-5er, anyone have any ideas of what to do with the odd hours of consciousness that come with a vampire's schedule?
O, Sweet Normalcy. Come back to me.
Should I go back to sleep since I have to work tonight? Should I make the most of my conscious time?
I hate being in such a dazed state. You can't quite settle in to doing something normal and I almost feel like I have to just entertain my brain long enough to get tired and go to sleep again.
Besides getting a 9-5er, anyone have any ideas of what to do with the odd hours of consciousness that come with a vampire's schedule?
O, Sweet Normalcy. Come back to me.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
MAN SHOT 9 TIMES IN GOOD CONDITION
(The following is what would not make it into the papers about gang initiation in the city.)
Over the weekend there was a report of a young man shot 9 times.
The story unfolded little by little until it was discovered that he was more than likely initiated into a gang.
Saturday night the police scanner squawks out that a person was shot 9 times. He was shot twice in each wrist, four times in the buttocks, and once in the elbow. He was in good condition at a hospital after he "flagged down a passing car and got a ride to the hospital."
The person's description of the shooter was a man wearing a black ski mask and all black clothing, which is not especially common for a city with many, many street gangs. This person would be easy to find, seeing that no one ever wears black ski masks while doing something illegal or wears all-black clothing at night.
Something else very odd was that live ammunition was found at the scene along with spent shell casings. So maybe the shooter happened to absent-mindedly empty out his ammunition sometime during the shooting.
It was later discovered that a way for young punks to get into a gang would be to get shot in the foot, buttocks, or some other non-lethal area of the body. Police see it all the time and almost laugh when a young guy in his 20s shows up at the hospital with a non-lethal gunshot wound. The "victim" usually is not transported by ambulance but by a friend who will drive them to the hospital. The "victim" also is beligerant and refuses to give a good description of who shot them (more than likely because it was a fellow gang member that did the deed or because it was a self-inflicted gunshot wound).
This is just one of the many unsolved mysteries of Chicago, like the city's $225 million dollar debt and a $415 million dollar Millenium Park recently finished.
Over the weekend there was a report of a young man shot 9 times.
The story unfolded little by little until it was discovered that he was more than likely initiated into a gang.
Saturday night the police scanner squawks out that a person was shot 9 times. He was shot twice in each wrist, four times in the buttocks, and once in the elbow. He was in good condition at a hospital after he "flagged down a passing car and got a ride to the hospital."
The person's description of the shooter was a man wearing a black ski mask and all black clothing, which is not especially common for a city with many, many street gangs. This person would be easy to find, seeing that no one ever wears black ski masks while doing something illegal or wears all-black clothing at night.
Something else very odd was that live ammunition was found at the scene along with spent shell casings. So maybe the shooter happened to absent-mindedly empty out his ammunition sometime during the shooting.
It was later discovered that a way for young punks to get into a gang would be to get shot in the foot, buttocks, or some other non-lethal area of the body. Police see it all the time and almost laugh when a young guy in his 20s shows up at the hospital with a non-lethal gunshot wound. The "victim" usually is not transported by ambulance but by a friend who will drive them to the hospital. The "victim" also is beligerant and refuses to give a good description of who shot them (more than likely because it was a fellow gang member that did the deed or because it was a self-inflicted gunshot wound).
This is just one of the many unsolved mysteries of Chicago, like the city's $225 million dollar debt and a $415 million dollar Millenium Park recently finished.
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