2.28.2005
Stop whining...
Sometimes shit just happens. And um, even though I'm used to it I still cringe whenever it does.
Take an example from a few weeks ago when Wood visited the NY. He, sdot and I headed off to the city to catch Tim'm at a speaking engagement. I debated whether or not I should drive as it is always a struggle finding parking anywhere south of 96th Street in Manhattan. But I figured what the hell...I'd find something and, I did. Almost immediately; but then came the hard part. For those of you who live in NY, have visited, or have taken the time to notice, parking regulation signs here are all together confusing. Where in most cities the signs simply read No Parking for whatever specified reason or time, here it's more like solving an algebraic problem (i.e., No Parking 9AM - 5PM Mon, Tue, Wed, Except Wed 4PM - 7PM Or Tue. 3PM - 9PM Or Mon 9AM - 10PM). So, we find a space, figure out the square root of x and proceed to our function. When we return hours later I'm surprised to find my car alone on a once populated street with a bright orange one hundred and fifteen dollar ticket attached to it. Confused Wood snaps a picture while Sdot and I diligently break down the sign. After about ten minutes we finally get it, we fucked up and as a result, shit happens.
I could sit here and type out a couple thousand situations just like that where I felt vicitimized by the shit happening to me or around me. Situations that always seemed to leave me feeling frustrated and bitter and angry with life and my insatiable love affair with bad luck. I mean because even though I don't often admit it (consciously at least) its sexy being the victim. Its sexy recounting the events of a horrible mishap and having those you love feel for you...understand you...comfort you. It's sexy and addictive and--and--undeniably human. We all want to be heard, felt and understood. And what better way to achieve that than through a tragedy?
Still, I can't help but wonder if we consiously withhold vital information? Information that could possibly connect us to the mishap clearly pointing out B happened as a result of A. Hmmm...
Why am I going on this tangent? Yesterday my laptop crashed. For my fellow writers/bloggers/entrepeneurs an event like this can crush the spirit. My laptop is my life. It is the vehicle I depend on to bring my gift to the world--and without it I'm like, lost. Since, I haven't been able to think of anything but the countless documents, e-mails, stories, blurbs, photographs, ideas, etc., I might have lost. Thankfully a few months ago I purchased an external hardrive and had begun to back-up my info, but as I'm sure some of you know developing and maintaining new habbits is well, difficult at best. I'm sure it's been well over a month since I backed up anything. And though this sucks to high hell, I can't help but think of all the warning signs my computer gave me before conking out. You would think I'd do something, like maybe---I don't know---backing up the shit immediately and calling tech support for help? I mean isn't that what you're supposed to do? Take your car for example, if the shit shuts off like three times while you're driving, wouldn't you think "hey, I'd better get this checked out..." instead of restarting it and continuing on as if nothing happened? The warning signs were there...and I chose to ignore them.
So, though every square inch of my being is begging for it, there will be no sympathy for me. Because shit happens, and sometimes I'm to blame.
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Take an example from a few weeks ago when Wood visited the NY. He, sdot and I headed off to the city to catch Tim'm at a speaking engagement. I debated whether or not I should drive as it is always a struggle finding parking anywhere south of 96th Street in Manhattan. But I figured what the hell...I'd find something and, I did. Almost immediately; but then came the hard part. For those of you who live in NY, have visited, or have taken the time to notice, parking regulation signs here are all together confusing. Where in most cities the signs simply read No Parking for whatever specified reason or time, here it's more like solving an algebraic problem (i.e., No Parking 9AM - 5PM Mon, Tue, Wed, Except Wed 4PM - 7PM Or Tue. 3PM - 9PM Or Mon 9AM - 10PM). So, we find a space, figure out the square root of x and proceed to our function. When we return hours later I'm surprised to find my car alone on a once populated street with a bright orange one hundred and fifteen dollar ticket attached to it. Confused Wood snaps a picture while Sdot and I diligently break down the sign. After about ten minutes we finally get it, we fucked up and as a result, shit happens.
I could sit here and type out a couple thousand situations just like that where I felt vicitimized by the shit happening to me or around me. Situations that always seemed to leave me feeling frustrated and bitter and angry with life and my insatiable love affair with bad luck. I mean because even though I don't often admit it (consciously at least) its sexy being the victim. Its sexy recounting the events of a horrible mishap and having those you love feel for you...understand you...comfort you. It's sexy and addictive and--and--undeniably human. We all want to be heard, felt and understood. And what better way to achieve that than through a tragedy?
Still, I can't help but wonder if we consiously withhold vital information? Information that could possibly connect us to the mishap clearly pointing out B happened as a result of A. Hmmm...
Why am I going on this tangent? Yesterday my laptop crashed. For my fellow writers/bloggers/entrepeneurs an event like this can crush the spirit. My laptop is my life. It is the vehicle I depend on to bring my gift to the world--and without it I'm like, lost. Since, I haven't been able to think of anything but the countless documents, e-mails, stories, blurbs, photographs, ideas, etc., I might have lost. Thankfully a few months ago I purchased an external hardrive and had begun to back-up my info, but as I'm sure some of you know developing and maintaining new habbits is well, difficult at best. I'm sure it's been well over a month since I backed up anything. And though this sucks to high hell, I can't help but think of all the warning signs my computer gave me before conking out. You would think I'd do something, like maybe---I don't know---backing up the shit immediately and calling tech support for help? I mean isn't that what you're supposed to do? Take your car for example, if the shit shuts off like three times while you're driving, wouldn't you think "hey, I'd better get this checked out..." instead of restarting it and continuing on as if nothing happened? The warning signs were there...and I chose to ignore them.
So, though every square inch of my being is begging for it, there will be no sympathy for me. Because shit happens, and sometimes I'm to blame.
