Disaffection

Having finally exhausted about every webpage containing the words "El Bolson, Argentina," I resorted this afternoon to creeping Joel Stein.

Stein is the lucky guy who is paid, as he bragged last month, to write a weekly column about himself in a news magazine. It was in Time (namely, The Awesome Column) in which I first encountered his witty, embarrassingly egotistical prose. I was in love at once. In love, and not a little jealous.

A whole column in a prestigious publication in which to ramble on about his high school SAT score, his consultations with a psychic, and potential names for a child he doesn't have. It was no fair. I could do that.

I want his job.

The more of his work I read though (online, at his website, http://www.thejoelstein.com/), the more I realized that while I'd love his job, I'd hate his life.

Stein has described his career as a desperate search for attention, and after reading about six of the essays posted online (the site is intended to one day be a complete collection of his work (as a resource for the "many of you who are probably writing a PhD dissertation about me," as his introduction states), I was convinced of this being true. His immense egotism, while appreciable in the weekly doses from Time, does begin to grate when read in bulk, and quickly.

It seems he was recently married, too...I cannot imagine. If his self-centeredness wasn't enough, one would think his frequent and entirely unabashed mention of his porn addiction would be an acceptable red flag.

So while the I remain slightly envious, I suppose I can excuse his having a great job, while I'm still stocking Yoplait and Charmin at six am. Because The Awesome Column might be the only part of his life worth being proud of.

Valentines and Influenza A

The title really basically says it all, although it omits the fact that the latter overrides the former. But anyone in my situation would know that.

Yes. Influenza A. This would be Day 4, I think. Although the two days preceeding Day 1 weren't great, either--I'm just hesitant to lump them with the Influenza count, as the symptoms were fairly different.

(As an aside, isn't it strange how sickness brings out the blogger in me? This malnourished blog might starve straight to death if good health was any more persistent).

So today has been spent mostly in cleaning my room, lamenting that I was not able to make it to Paul's swim meet. I feel about awful about that.

And cleaning did not help much. While cleaning, I had a series of self-esteem destroying revelations. They are:

1. I have a lot of stuff.

2. I need to take better care of my stuff.

I have to admit: while the economy has been very ugly for many people, it's been very, very kind to me. This hourly just got a quarter raise last week, to pad an already ridiculous salary. And while I do think I spend a fair amount of it on worthy things, today, going through my clothes and everything, I was disgusted with how much I spend on me.

I may decry yuppie values in public, but I have a pretty yuppie closet.

My free spending isn't honoring to God, and my current habits won't do me any good when I get to college, either. I'm still not quite sure what I want to do about this. Obviously, keep better track of my finances, and try to put more thought into my purchases. Learn to wait to buy things.

What I'm thinking is this: a two-month spending freeze on anything for myself. This means I can still run out and buy flowers for my mom or grandmother when she's sick, or randomly pick up some Wisconsin beefsticks for Nate on the way out of work. When I finally get better, I can go and buy the Valentine's Day present I picked out for Paul on the Internet. I just can't randomly buy anything for myself.

As for the second revelation, it will just be a matter of effort. If I can make what I have last longer, I can cut back even more on buying new things. I don't want to be a materialist. It kills me that I've gotten this close. God doesn't give us resources to keep to ourselves; I feel as if I've broken trust with Him by spending so much on myself. I'm currently sponsoring a little girl in Peru, but now I'm wondering about taking on another.

Ugh, days when you hate who you are. Paul says he doesn't have them. That sounds nice, but I'm kind of glad I do. Change rarely occurs without some prior agitation, and it seems like I've experienced a lot of that lately.

Happy Valenine's Day!

Sunshine and Ravioli

The holidays are over, leaving in their wake a pressing sense of quiet doom. The holidays are over, and everyone is going away again.

Right now I'm cheering myself up listening to Louis Prima singing scat in "Pennies From Heaven," which is such a fun song. I got my first iTunes giftcard this Christmas, and decided that Tuesday was as good as any to sit down and figure out how to use it. I bought Prima's "Pennies from Heaven" and "The Bigger the Figure" first, because I'd fallen in love with both watching Igor. Then I bought a dirty Spanish song. It was an accident; iTunes only gives a thirty-second clip of each song, and when I googled the words I'd caught from the thirty seconds to find the lyrics, a different song came up. The lyrics the site gave me were fine, but ultimately totally different from the ones of the song I bought. It's pretty unfortunate, because it had a really great sound, sort of like Chicago or Huey Louis and the News in Spanish.

Of course I also bought "Hey There Delilah", and cried through it as always. I am going to be such a wreck next year.

The song has changed, now, leaving this good mood entirely unsupported. I had a nightmare a few weeks ago that I knew everyone at college. At least we know that will not happen. I dread being lonely, but I am terrified of being anything else. I've been told there will be plenty of lonely times, but that I should be fine because my personality is such that I probably won't notice. Very funny.

So much I am going to miss. I am trying to rally at least a little excitement by filling up a box downstairs with new things for my dorm that I don't get to touch until next year. So far I have a toaster, a little magnetic picture frame, and a string of Chinese box lights. Which are pretty fabulous, but, I predict, will of be of little actual consolation when the time comes.