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Monday, March 6, 2006
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monday mornin', y'all.
Already?
Please, if you will:
- Tell us about the weather in your 'hood today.
- Describe the last item of clothing you purchased for your own use.
- Tell us who you'd like to give an Oscar to, and name the category you'd award them in... or, of course, make one up...
- Did anything actually shock you in the last week?
- Tell us about the last thing that really made you laugh.
- Would you describe yourself as crazy, normal, or somewhere in-between?
7:01:08 AM 
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stuck in my brain before i sleep.
Every old man I know has said at some point that they'd rather die than be sick or weak and infirm. You know the rant... something along the lines of, "I'd rather go young than have to depend on anyone."
Funny thing, though; those same men are some of the hardest fighters I've seen when it comes to the big, scary illnesses, and well into their seventies and eighties, at that. They don't give in, and they certainly don't welcome their mortality as an alternative to grasping at the last straws of health.
Afraid of dying? No. I believe they're afraid of someone thinking they didn't have the good sense to live.
I have seen my grandfather go through a million kinds of embarassment and frustration in fighting his cancer these last couple of years. I know he hates that people have to take care of him, and I know he hates being physically ill, and I know he hates the emotional strain that his sickness has created in his life, and in the life of his family.
But when it's all said and done, as much as he says he'd just like to slip away in his sleep now and then, he just keeps walking on. He gets through the day. He enjoys his meals. He laughs at jokes. He loves his friends. He taunts his cat.
He hasn't let go.
Perhaps you come to realize, the older you get, that the whole idea of a life lived without depending on anyone is not only nearly impossible, but just a little bit sad.
He doesn't like having to ask for help. But the knowledge that it exists to be given, and given in love?
That's a good reason to hang on.
***
I have a rather difficult event coming up in my life tomorrow, and I have absolutely no desire to do what I have to do. I'm all for facing up to the hard stuff, but at times, being a complete chicken sounds really, really appealing.
I'm already a little strung out from a few stressful events in the past week, so my levels of perspective are not in tip-top shape. At points like these, I have an endearing capacity to silently fret about the worst possible things occuring.
And I don't want those things to occur.
So how do I shake the cloud?
On the outside, you wouldn't be able to tell a thing, by the way, unless you knew me really well. That's just how I am. No big fan of drama or hysterics.
But on the inside?
Scared.
I'll get over it. I just have to keep moving forward.
***
I was actually trying to think -- earlier this evening, while watching the telecast -- of what eloquent things I might say or who I might thank if I won an Oscar. Would I give my parents a fond tribute? Would I have a beloved companion to laud? Would I remember the name of my agent's assistant or the person that does my highlights?
And then I realized that I would probably do the exact same thing that I always do, given a microphone and a crowd:
I'd become a complete and total goofball, and end up reciting spontaneous Oscar haiku:
thanks for my oscar
it's very tall and shiny
very chic doorstop
***
I'm entering into another weird insomnia phase; I can't think for the life of me why I would suddenly be extra-sleepless right now. All I know is that my brain will not slow down. The dying Wookie noise now seems to be echoing in my cerebellum. Do you ever just go through a few weeks of your life where you're so keyed up that relaxing seems like an impossible dream?
You don't?
Damn.
***
My Oscar round-up:
- Jon Stewart was absolutely brilliant.
- I'm glad Jennifer Garner didn't fall.
- Uma and Charlize need to lay off the Mystic Tan booth. Or the carrot juice. Either.
- Reese's dress and Salma's dress and Uma's dress and Rachel's dress and Nicole's dress and Latifah's dress... all lovely. And remarkably, that's all I remember.
- George Clooney is absolutely old-school star material.
- I think I lost my office Oscar pool rather miserably.
- Billy Bush is really annoying. I think Ryan Seacrest should do it next year. Looks almost the same, but 60% less irritating.
- The last note of the song from Hustle and Flow literally caused a popping sensation in my brain.
- Love Phil Hoffman. Love.
- No TomKat. No Brangelina. No Nick and Jessica. No Madge and Guy. HOW NICE IS THAT?
- YEAH! March of the Penguins! YEAH!
- If I had to choose a celebrity to go to the Oscars with? Morgan Freeman. In a heartbeat.
That's it.
Gotta try and snooze.
UPDATE: Came in third in my office Oscar pool. Woo!
12:24:12 AM
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© Copyright
2006
Meg Fowler.
Last update:
4/1/06; 11:43:33 PM. |
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