I really like when intersecting sidewalks don't meet at the outermost edge of the corner. It's something you only see on old streets, typically when the walk itself is narrow, rumpled with 20 years of jostling tree roots, and befriended by grass on both sides. Somehow, taking those extra two steps into the block before you turn to cross the street feels like a microcosm of nostalgic small-town life. Back when people had the time and the openness to connect even with the unimportant and the fleeting. They didn't perch on the extreme-most edge of a sea of impersonal concrete, nearer the passing cars than any human contact or living thing. Maybe it's a lot to read in to a street corner, but it's what I felt tonight walking home.
and then imagine an intersecting sidewalk equally set in to the block
I like The Lizzie Bennet Diaries. I could probably even say I'm more than a little obsessed with them just now. They're brilliant and clever and unbelievably well-made. You can feel and see and otherwise experience all the effort and care that went into them at every turn. And they made Pride and Prejudice feel like a fresh, new story, which is no small achievement. I deeply wish there was someone I could discuss them with in the nauseatingly analytic detail I love so much.
please everyone go experience this project. Google "the lizzie bennet diaries"
I like brick buildings, particularly homes and schools. There is a comfortable elegance to brick that is unique. Brick-built schools typically avoid that prison look of so many schools built out of more contemporary mediums. Brick houses feel warm and inviting and...settled. It's a beautiful material.
When I go out walking at night it is usually very late. I love how quiet the city gets and how many secret details, usually masked by the busyness of daylight, you can discover. But I also like walking in the early evening. Unlike late night walking, you still hear the noises of people, but the sounds are calmer, homier, and more personal than daytime sounds.
I like the feeling of solitude surrounded by communal strangers. To be aloof, sitting alone at a table, while still engaging in the loosest possible network of unknown people who shared your thought to come to this specific place is a very particular kind of experience that is worth having and paying attention to. Historically, giving one's hospitality and the act of eating together created a bond of peace that was nearly sacred. I think society retains the slightest vestige of that mentality today in a subconscious kinship with those around us in a public place like a restaurant. Or perhaps that is just me.
alone at a table somewhere in that group
And finally, I like this sentence:
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition."
I like that sentence more than I can say and maybe more than it deserves, coming from a cheesy horror show on The CW. However, regardless of its origins and despite having rather a more Protestant flavor than many Mormons are comfortable with, it feels like the most perfect answer that was ever given to the question "Who is God?". And as a bonus, it is a phenomenally well-crafted sentence; it is in perfect trochaic meter, it has a beautiful and evocative linguistic flow, and the word choice is just unusual enough to catch your attention without crossing the line into pretentiousness and distracting you from the overall impact of the idea.
I read this thing a while back. It was one of those "7 Things You Should Learn To Be An Adult" or "21 Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me When I Was 25" or whatever. I can't remember the name specifically so I can't find and link it. But suffice it to say, it had all these things that 20 somethings or young adults or whoever need to realize if they're going to start being adults. It was one of the better of that breed of post and I remember it had this one point that really just sums up this whole blog post. It said "Learn to spend money on things".
"Well that can't be right!" you're thinking. "Being an adult means that you save your money like a responsible human!" And you would be right. But you'd also be wrong. The post went on to explain that when you're in high school and then in college you are saving saving saving to pay for high school and college. Mostly college. It is big and important and expensive and you're constantly poor and not spending money becomes practically an art form. You learn to get by and make do and live like a Russian peasant. But after school you need to stop thinking like a college student and learn to spend money on the things that are important to you. Because not spending money is a waste. You might as well just not earn it...so to speak.
And like I said, in a nutshell, that is the point of this post. It is about the difference between frugality and cheapness. The simplest explanation, I would say, is that frugality is action-based and cheapness is attitude-based.
What it comes down to is this--money is a really great and important thing in life. Having it makes pretty much all the things possible. Not having it can literally kill you. Thus it becomes important to be responsible with your money, learning to prioritize your spending and save for a rainy day. However, as with so many things, it is possible to become unbalanced in your attitude about money. Money, and the process of saving it, become the end themselves rather than the means to an end they should be. When you start resenting the expenditure of your money; when you start perceiving a larger number in your bank balance as more valuable than a night out with your friends or a new and exciting experience, then I think you have become unbalanced.
I have realized lately how valuable a trait generosity really is. Actual, real-world generosity is one of the greatest attributes a person can have in my book. Because money is great, but only because it allows you to buy gifts for the people you love, and travel to new or familiar places, and supply and enrich your life, etc... Money is valuable insofar as it enables you to live. It is not valuable in and of itself.
It has been brought to my attention (by someone other than my mother, amazingly enough), that it has been rather a long while since I last updated my blog. I usually try to update at least once a month, but time seems to have gotten away from me. Guess I just didn't have anything to say. I know I had a request to review The Host, but unlike most of you, I actually kind of liked that movie, which doesn't really make for a particularly entertaining review. But maybe I'll still work one up one of these days.
The fact is that I still don't really have anything in particular to say, but if people are asking you about your blog, surprising as it may seem, it would appear that at least that one person is interested in reading stuff you've written. So I guess I'll write some stuff for them to read.
Dear Bill Waterson...is this an illegal use of Calvin? If you feel that it is,
please email me and let me know. I'll take it right down...
Let's see. Last thing I was talking about was the beginnings of the car hunt. It seems anti climactic to just say "Well, I ended up buying a car." But I did. I bought a car guys! It is actually really exciting. I mean, I've had the car for two and a half months and I still think "dang I love my car!" every time I see it. Because guess what. Remember how I said that my dream car that I would never ever ever be able to buy because it would be crazy times out of my price range was an '09 Honda Fit? Well, after careful perusing of KSL and several disappointments I came across an orange '09 Honda Fit for exactly how much I was willing to spend! Downside? Turns out it was so cheap because it was a rebuilt title. Right at the same time I came across an '06 Scion XA for about the same price. There was some serious (and I do mean serious...I was giving myself stress headaches worrying about it) debate between the two. But in the end, after taking him to the Honda dealership and getting him checked out by their mechanic, I settled on the Fit and promptly named him Chester. And we've been ever so in love ever since.
The next big problem for me to solve was Sharry Baby. What was I going to do with this now superfluous car that was cluttering up the street in front of my house. Though my roommate's boyfriend offered to sell her for me, I decided to give it a try on my own. Through keen and penetrating reasoning I decided to list her for $1000. I needed to get $800 for her and I figured I should give a little room for people to barter so they could feel good about themselves. If you're friends with me on the fbook then you may have seen my post about a rather insulting text I got from someone who was mildly interested. While I posted the text because I appreciated the humor of the situation, I must confess, it was not a little upsetting being treated like that. Not to mention discouraging. Especially as that text was the last response I got for several days. I was starting to worry it was a no go, when I got a text at work asking me if I still had the car. The highlights of the story are as follows: car wouldn't start, guy says he's a mechanic and can fix it, I pick guy and his buddy up, guy and his buddy tell me all about how they just got out of prison where they both found Jesus, guy magically makes car start, me and guy and guy's buddy go on a very extended test drive, guy buys car for $900, parents express a lack of enthusiasm that I'm hanging out alone with two ex-cons (they were actually super cool guys, albeit a little unorthodox). And that is the story of how I managed to sell Sharry Baby for $100 more than I expected to.
for some reason this felt like the right thing to put here...?
Let's see...other news I guess would be that I spent a couple of months seriously considering altering my living circumstances. For a while I was going to move in with Kara and one other mystery roommate. That didn't pan out because Kara works in Salt Lake and I work in Payson and there's no way to split that commute so that both people are happy. So I guess Kara and I will have to live together another time. But that then got me started thinking about how, now I'm not a student, I have no actual reason to stay in Provo. So I started looking in to finding a place a little closer to my job. I did find an adorable place down in Payson with a really nice guy for a landlord. But it just didn't feel right...as amorphous a reason as that is (especially for me). Part of it was the fact that I really really love my bishop and ward here in Provo. I think that Bishop Pickering is exactly the right bishop for me right now. He heckled me today because I haven't come in to talk to him lately and he said the reason he likes me so much is because I give him so much crap. His words. Yeah, we get along well. But anyway, I decided to stay here in Provo at least for one more winter. Perhaps after that I'll move down to Payson, or somewhere else entirely. I can't deny that the idea of having my own place really appeals to me. But now isn't the time...
this is 100% what it would really be like
pic from Pretty Bland Comics
I went home twice in the last month's time. The first visit was for my grandma's memorial. It was just too inconvenient for all the family to come up back in January for the funeral, so it was decided that we'd have a big memorial later in the summer. My grandma's death has been the first time I've really actively mourned for anyone and it has been harder than I ever expected it to be. I was hoping by the time the memorial came up it wouldn't be such a big deal, but I'll admit, I spent a fairly significant part of the service crying. A few days after the memorial Jesse and Grandpa were going to be driving down to North Carolina, so I also was dealing with the realization that if I don't make it down to visit Jesse and Erin relatively soon, it is likely that I won't see Grandpa again. Suffice it to say, it was an exhausting weekend
Just a few weeks later Kara was heading up for her nephew's notfarewell and she invited me to join her. I thought it would be nice to get to visit mom and dad with a little less stress so I decided to go. It ended up being a lovely visit. And while we were in LaGrande one day we passed by my favorite little bookshop. I don't remember if I wrote about how I realized at Christmas that what I really really want to do, like for real, is to have my own little bookshop that has tons of personality and can get you whatever book you want. I also don't remember if I mentioned that Sunflower book is the inspiration for that dream. I found out at Christmas that it was up for sale and would be closing soon if no one bought it. When I saw it again a few weeks ago it was all closed up and I think it was one of the saddest things I've ever seen. The owners, who decided to retire, just never could find a buyer. But it started me thinking. I started to wonder just how crazy it would be for me to.....buy it. Right now. See, when I decided I wanted to own a bookstore in my head it went something like this: stay in Provo and work for Caleb for a few more years while I pay off all the debt and get my feet under me, so to speak, as an adult; spend a few more years saving money; in about 10 years when I'm rather more solvent and prepared, apply for a loan and open my store. But here's a sobering thought--in 10 years I'll be 37. 37! That's nearly 40! And who are we kidding? I totally plan on being married with at least one kid by then (well...plan is maybe a strong word...I really hope to be married with a kid by then). The point is that 37 is not really an age you think of when you think "crazy decisions to take major risks". Nope, see, that's the kind of thing you're supposed to do when you're young. So suddenly I'm looking at this empty store and I'm thinking "What if I did it now? What if I tried to open my bookstore right now when I have student loans to pay off and absolutely no idea what I'm doing or how I'm going to do it?" Even just thinking about it like that, like it was an actual possibility, was absolutely, physical-response-inducing terrifying. See, the thing is...I'm not exactly a risk taker and I'm not exactly an efficient, get-a-million-things-done-a-day person. But then I started wondering if maybe the very scariness of it wasn't a pretty good reason why I should do it. I started to wonder...is my plan to stay here in Provo and work for Caleb really a good solid plan? Or is it a nice safe plan? Much as I love my job (and you all know how much I love my job), do I actually love it for the right reasons? I mean, how much of that love is actually just a love of comfort? This is a job that doesn't challenge me at all. It allows me to sleep in and set my own hours and just hang out with one of my best friends. These are all great things, but what if I could be doing something even better but I'm too afraid to inconvenience myself to discover it? When I try to look objectively at my life I cannot say that these are not reasonable worries. So what if I decided to...well, to completely ignore my personality and dive into the scariest possible (realistic) adventure I can imagine? I'm nearly 27 years old. There truly will never be a better time for me to take that kind of risk than right now. If I crash spectacularly and burn my life to the ground the consequences will be so much more manageable right now than they ever will be any other time.
Explaining this all makes me get all anxious and excited about the idea again. Thinking about the "what if....?" But sadly, it isn't so easy to ignore one's personality. Your habits of behavior exist for a reason. Usually it is because you've spent a lifetime cultivating them. So even though I can rationally think through why it might actually be the perfect moment for me to dive into a nausea inducingly terrifying adventure...I just don't think I can do it. It is too scary. Scary seems like such an insufficient word to describe the feeling that envelops me when I think about the idea. C'est la vie?
And...I guess that's it. I'm not sure how I feel about these "this is just a big update of what's going on in my life" updates. They feel so...narcissistic. But then, my great long philosophical treatises are just plain boring, so maybe this is a step up? I don't know...
