Hope is hearing the melody of the future. Faith is to dance to it. ~R. Alves

I was going to make some witty remark about how today has been declared "Purple Tuesday", but frankly I couldn't care less.

 

No.

 

Wait.

 

I could.

 

But the reason I care at all is because I had no idea there existed such a strong contingent of Rockies fans.  This fascinates me.  And amuses me, especially when people attempt to discuss the game with me and I (almost sincerely) ask them, "What's the World Series?"

 

[As an aside:  what is up with calling it the World Series?  Even though I don't follow the game at all -- I only attend Rockies games when someone gives me a free ticket and when I need a leisurely few hours to catch up on my friend's life -- I know enough to be aware that other countries are crazy about the game, especially in Japan.  It's just as annoying as calling the Superbowl champs the World champions.  Oi.  America doesn't have a monopoly on sports.]

 

I then thought about going into a pithy commentary on my recent viewing of the film version RENT (and the only way I've seen this show), but my critical observations (coupled with a respect for the cinematography) would just be narcisstic faux-philosophical blather.  Much like the show.

 

Oh.  Wait.  Maybe I made my pithy statement after all.

 

[Really, I just wanted to use the word "pithy."  I'm currently on a consderate-to-lispers word obsession.]

 

I then thought I could wrangle out a quirky-yet-amusing tale of my thrift store adventures, coupled with the self-reassuring declaration that all my current sacrifices wouldn't be in vain, but I figured that since I've already accepted this, it would be insecure to continue to reassure myself.  And I'm not insecure.

 

Really.

 

I'm just bored.

 

Which is why I blog.

 

I used to remember the day [ahh... the good ol' days... three years ago...] when I would carefully craft a post, hoping that it would be properly entertaining or delightfully thought-provoking (or both!).  I would revel in any (and do I mean any) circumstance during my day that would lend itself to 1000 words (or more!).  I would merrily breeze through other people's blogs, scattering comments and obsessively checking my inbox.

 

Ah, the innocence of youth.

 

Or should I say the free time of a college student?

 

Maybe it's just my standard expiration date (three years, give or take a few months), but I find that I wouldn't mind not blogging.  In the past month, when I've had free access, hours to kill, and not much else to do, it's been a distraction of sorts.  But I've had to remind myself how to blog.

 

And I don't think I quite fully remember.

 

Yes, it's all silly blatherings about me, like it ever was (and like so many blogs are).  But I don't really take as much joy in my silly blatherings.  I'm tired of constantly looking at me, of analyzing me, of trying to show me off, of clamoring for the head-pats that show people really like me, they really do like me!

 

Crazy.  It makes me laugh.  Which is good.  Because it shows that apparently there's been a change in the last three years.  Well, yeah  -- I left the cozy safety of family and academia to be thrown into the wilds of the (gasp!) Real World.  I've had to make my own decisions, plan my own schedule, and except for the odd supervisor here and there, basically only answer to me.

 

And accept the consequences of my answers.

 

I doubt I'll ever quit blogging, primarly due to the fact that I have a lot of time to kill during the day, I'm stuck at a computer, and, oh yeah, I like to write.

 

I just can't take it as seriously as I once did.

 

Which, methinks, could be a good thing.