27 February 2004

Ah. So THIS is Where My Blog Was!


Sorry about the 2+ week hiatus from writing. I have a million things I need to talk about. One of them is a Public Service Announcement--everyone should take $20 and buy the Microtouch Trimmer off of that TV infomercial. It's as good as advertised. Incredible. I will talk about this further later. Full review. I also need to talk about The O.C. and the fact that Ryan's ex-girlfriend rates a full 10 out of 10 on my Oh F*ck Me Scale. Hot. Whoo. Good times. I need to talk about obnoxious Yankee fans and how they continue to plague America. I need to talk about how people, faced with factual information, cannot stand long whilst arguing with emotion and conjecture. That the phrase "That's incorrect" doesn't mean your opinion is wrong, it means that the data (or lack thereof) you are basing it on is. I need to talk about a lot of things. Some because they are important to me, some because they are important to you, most because they are important to no one.

But there is one thing I'd like to talk about tonight.

I recall a couple of years ago when my roommate got his picture taken for the school newspaper. Well, that's not accurate...there was a picture taken with him in the background. He was highly out of focus, but you could was him. He made a statement that was not meant to be taken deeply in any way, but it resonated with me and has stuck with me since.

"Hey, there I am. That's me. Fuzzy, in the background."

Fuzzy in the background. I can't tell you why it crawled into my head and stayed there. I thought it was interesting at the time, as I could relate it, barely, to a place or a situation here and there. It was always in the back of my mind. Fuzzy in the background. Until now, though, it never came through as an overall concept.

Life is not my biggest ally right at this moment. We're not getting along. Apparently it wants things for me that I would much rather do without. I feel as though I'm below deck, and that's not the way it's supposed to be. You're supposed to be at the Captain's Chair, sun or storm, plowing your way to...well, to wherever you want to go, really. I haven't had that luxury lately. Right now I'm supposed to be sailing my way towards California and my future. I have a job. I have a shot, a shot that most people don't even ever get close to smelling, let alone have it laid in their lap. I feel as though I have a purpose and that if I can just get over the hill, I'll be coming down a mountain for a long, long time.

But there are college loans--VAST college loans--to repay, sucking up about 1/3 or more of my finances. There is time. I'm not "old" but in Hollywood, they don't take you past but a pup. And there are those around me. My father has been sick for quite some time now. He's going to be OK, but he's miserable, and there are certain things he can't do without me. Until he gets fixed, how can I leave? Then, last week, there was Mom. Without warning, diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. The good news is that it was caught early. It hasn't spread. Doctors think she'll be fine after a little radiation and a few passes at chemotherapy. But in the back of mind I toy with the idea that it might come back. Who would take care of my brothers? Who would watch out? It's perhaps a bit pessimistic and defeatist, but isn't it better to be prepared? It don't I owe it in the first place?

Of course. So my life is on hold. It's that simple. Early in the week, selfishly, I thought about the recent turn of events in GeoffWorld. Allowed the bad attitude, the one that never seems to get a word in edgewise any other day, to bust through and take over. He told me that, if you looked at a picture of my life right now, you'd see a lot of sh*t, but you wouldn't see me in The Chair. Because the sh*t had taken over residence. The clear part of the picture would show it all over the cabin, drowning everything else out. And I'd just be Fuzzy In the Background, trying to pull myself to my feet.

But man, dammit, I'm blessed, and that's no way to look at things. Immediately I shut out Bad Attitude, stinging back that yeah, I'm in the Red, but I'm paying it all back, slowly but surely, and there's money in the bank yet. I let him know that I'm not even 25 yet. Some people aren't even out of college at my age. Some never went. I'm way ahead of the game. I made he sure he knew that whatever faint stress my parent's illnesses put on me, it was nothing compared to what they must be going through, and damnit if my helping out won't see them through. They're both going to be OK. And before I stepped on his head, I made sure one thing was damn clear: I've not come this close to be denied. I will make it. And Jesus Christ himself will hear the low bellow of my f*cking foghorn when I do.

I sound like Tony Robbins. Sorry. But, even though I missed the Big Picture at first, I carried through. Why? Because there is no g*ddamn Big Picture. Life is not a picture; pictures are permanent and ephemeral. If your life is out of focus, don't throw up your hands. Twist the f*cking lens until you can see yourself again. Then pick up and carry on. Get a head of steam, because when you move your view somewhere else, it's bound to get fuzzy again.

Motherf*cker life is good.