And Now For Something... Completely Different

  Because of my extremely heavy and complaint-ridden negative-downer post yesterday, I thought I'd go through a few of the positive things going on to balance things out.
    First of all, I'm on to a new book I'm working on--completely opposite of the last one--about international intrigue and scientific discoveries and maybe a strong female love interest. It's going slow. I haven't written something that required so much research in a while, and I'm a little out of practice. But I think having an outline is going to work to my advantage. I can't be creative when it comes to stuff like because I'll get lost in all the stuff I made up. Having a map ahead of time will help, I hope.
    Second of all, the Giants won the Superbowl. Burn a thousand times, burn, on New England. Cocky bastards. I'm not a big football fan--I actually consider myself a Cardinals fan just because Jerry Maguire is my favorite movie--but I am a fan of New York things in general, so I don't feel like it's a betrayal. And some of the commercials were actually pretty good.
These were some of my favorites:

• Ferris Bueller=Classic
• Darth Vader. Nuff said.
• French bulldog racing greyhounds.
• Will Arnett: Funniest Man Ever. Come on!
• Dog Covering Up a Murder
• Ha ha ha Twihards
• This is just hilarious. Uberburn on the white knight.
• Here Wego!
• Danny Devito is funny in almost anything.
• Darth is still funnier.

    We got free lunch, sort of, yesterday at work because apparently it was Jimmy John's Customer Appreciation Day. I got a free small sandwich and we went to Chick-Fil-A to get a couple extra sides (yogurt and granola for me :)
    In addition to my positivity journal, I'm trying to take better care of myself. I'm back on LiveStrong.com this year to try to lose a little weight and eat healthier. I have new exercise DVDs, and I'm trying to cut out some of the eating out. I'm taking vitamins for the first time in YEARS (i.e. they are no longer in gummy or chewable form).
    I am trying to be nicer to myself, which is always hard. I'm setting aside a few bucks out of each paycheck to buy myself something off my Amazon wishlist. Partly because I like getting things in the mail, and partly because at this rate, I'm going to need to have like six birthdays a year to whittle that list down to a reasonable size. 
    I'm trying to commit myself to doing more good, for myself, the people I'm close to, and the world as a whole. It's going to be a long process, but I think it will be worth it.
    I've realized that a lot of my negativity comes from dwelling on stuff. While some it is sort of reasonable to dwell on because it affects me on a day-to-day basis, some of it isn't. I've also realized that I probably wouldn't be so negative if I didn't have that grass-is-always-greener mentality. Things aren't going to magically get better because one thing changes--usually something that is out of your control.
    The Greeks had a word for this: deus ex machina (this is one of my favorite phrases to pull on non-liberal arts people), which means god from the machine". It's usually used in theater, when one of the gods would come down and fix things so that the story, which had gotten far too complex and tangled up for the humans to fix things in three acts, could end. There is no magic wand that's going to give you a better boss or more money or lose weight. You have to effect the changes you want to see in your life, and that's what I'm trying to do now. I suck at it, but I'm hoping I'll get better with time and practice.

Who thought I'd be optimistic in the year the world is supposed to end?

What do you think about optimism? Is it the same as idealism? Is it unrealistic?

Tell me what you think in the comments.

These Vagabond Shoes

  I was torn as to whether I should write about the quandary of an apartment search I'm still having, or whether to write about a piece of nostalgia I experienced recently. Since I think I will probably manage to wax a little more poetic with the latter, that's where we're headed.
    The little piece of nostalgia I experienced happened at the movie theater last weekend, where I saw 4, count 'em 4, movies. One of which was Friends with Benefits, which takes place in New York City. I had no idea of this as I entered the theater, considering they played up the Hollywood sign scene in the previews so much, but I was elated when I discovered it took place in Old New York. While it doesn't evince the "New York State of Mind" quality that some movies do, When Harry Met Sally or pretty much any Ed Burns directed movie, it prickled at my nostalgia nonetheless. A few years ago, though now it seems much more distant than that, I was going to move to new york. I was going to move there after I finished high school, go to college there, become a big-city girl, find my dream job, fall in love, and publish one of my damn novels if it was the last thing I did.
    Obviously, things didn't quite pan out that way. I stayed in state for college. I have a good job, but not the job I imagined having once I was college-graduated and big-dream bound--publishing, advertising, law office, basically somewhere where you wear a suit and high heels and carry a briefcase and drink martinis after work at happy hour. I live in what I would classify as a large town, as opposed to a world-renowned metropolitan city. I fell in love when I was seventeen (it was a very good year), and I am still unpublished, except for the musings and ramblings I post here at Insistent and Persistent.
    The world sure looks different now compared to when I was 15. I can't imagine having such a competitive job and wearing high heels every day. But I still imagine what my life would be like if I had done what the 15-year-old version of myself wanted me to do. I would probably be living in a crappy apartment, making more money than I am now--but because of the housing costs in Manhattan, it wouldn't really feel like I was making more money. I would probably be reading and watching a lot of movies, which is much of what I do in my spare time here. I would be alone, because I'm afraid of going out by myself to meet people. I wouldn't be friends with my neighbors, or hanging out and getting to know the bartenders and the regulars at a local watering hole. I'm way too shy for that. And considering the types of neighbors I might have, not getting to know them might be for the best.
    It's interesting to think about where you thought you'd be and where you ended up by that age. Things definitely don't work out the way you expected them to. Ever. But I always wonder if that's because life gets screwed up and derailed from time to time, throwing a wrench in your perfect, if not perfectly thought out, plans, or if it's really because you never had the balls to try something terrifying like moving to a city where you don't know anyone and trying, not just to survive, but to succeed.
    I think it's probably a little bit of both--we all know how indecisive i can be, and this is no exception. I think if I put the effort into looking for a job there, I could get one. It might take me a while, but I think I could do it. The apartment might be tougher, but I'd figure something out, even if it meant, god forbid, living in Jersey for a few months. But, we come to the "if it ain't broke" adage in which we reason that: I already have a job, I have a place to stay even if it isn't ideal, I have a relationship, and I'm making it on my own, for the most part. Why would I give all this up for a shot at some pipe-dream nostalgic fancy that's lingered on for eight years? (Eight--god that makes me feel old.)
    The fact is, I wouldn't. Not now. If one of those things seriously fell into disarray, I might revisit the idea. But my life, despite all the complaining I do, is actually going pretty well. The "grass is greener" ideology only applies when the grass on this side of the fence is no longer green, as opposed to when it's green, but not as lush and deliciously deep green as the grass on the other side of the fence.
    So, New York, you'll have to wait. Maybe someday I will meet you again and take you by storm, dazzling you and all your big-wig, pompous, New-Yorker-reading, nicotine-saturated echelon with my brilliance. But for now, I will daydream and write and imagine that you are still as beautiful and chaotic and interesting as you were the last time I saw you all those years ago.

If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere.

No Regrets

Most things seem to happen for no apparent reason at all. But some things work out perfectly every once in a while, as if by design. People who have regrets don't believe this. People who have regrets are also people who blame someone else for what happened to them.
    It may be childish or fantastical, but I think it's nice to think that some things happen for a reason, even if they don't work out the way you originally had in mind. We're only human and sometimes our design isn't fully thought out or doesn't take certain things into account. But the universe, whether you want to call it that, or God, or destiny, can see things from every angle and see the game 20 moves ahead. For this reason, the universe can arrange things to play out perfectly from time to time. Sometimes, it takes us some time to realize that it was for the best that things happened in such a way.
    Pessimists and regretful people have a tendency not to see things as having worked out for the best. Maybe it's self-importance, wanting things to go their way or the highway, or maybe it's just closed-mindedness, that if things didn't go a certain way, they went the wrong way. It's unfortunate, because if you only look at the world from that perspective, you end up missing out on some of the beautiful and amazing, if unexpected, things that happen.
    I find regrets to be a waste of time. Regrets mean that you focus on something that happened in the past, and if that is still eating away at you, weeks or months or years later, part of you is being wasted and consumed by something that shouldn't matter anymore. It only still has bearing on your life because you allow it to. While my life has certainly not gone according to any plans I made at any point--eight years ago, I was going to move to New York when I was 18 and be a writer, and that didn't happen--I can't say that I regret anything that's happened to me or that I've done.
    Other people, were they in my shoes, might regret some of the things in my life. I spent three and a half years on a degree that didn't help me get a job very easily. But I did get a job. A great job that I really enjoy. It has absolutely nothing to with my degree, but I never expected to go into philosophy after all. I expected to have a bachelor's degree, some more knowledge than I started with, and to be a more well-rounded person, and that's all true. So how can I possibly regret something that put me in a good place in my life, even if it took a little longer than expected? Answer: I don't.
    There are plenty of other things that could have thrown me off track and made me regret that they happened or changed me in a way I didn't want to be changed. But even all the bad things that have happened, all the things that went wrong thus far in my young life, put me where I am today and prepared me for other things I would face. They made me stronger, and for that, I can't really regret those things either. Even if they sucked when they happened, I can't really blame anyone for what happened, even if a person was the catalyst that caused that particular event to happen. Blame is a by-product of regret, and if you don't regret anything, you can't blame anyone for where you are today or what has happened to you up until now.
    As they say, you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, and sometimes the things that don't go according to plan are the eggs that the universe breaks to help you make your omelet. (That came out so much cheesier than I meant it to, but oh well.) Next time something goes wrong, give it a chance to work itself out before automatically writing it off as the universe being out to screw you over again. That seemingly unfortunate, unexpected event may lead to something great.

Sing in the rain.