Entries for October, 2005
I am posting this entry on my brand-spanking-new laptop computer. It's beautiful, full of shiny things and flashy lights and wires connected to it and everything.
Notwithstanding the colorful events that have marred my mental state
over the past few weeks, I have been feeling [believe it or not]
extremely listless. The reasons for this strange, but expected,
phase of my caterpillar years have thus far eluded my half-hearted
probing, but I promise you, I will find it someday.
It'll be like one of those glorious moments for which you always wait
and hope. Like randomly flipping through the songs on your iPod
for months until you find that one song whose beat matches precisely
with the left-turn signal in your car. That will be a day of
jubilee. I'll slaughter two fat steers and roll out the kegs of
ale and invite all of Sherwood to join in my celebration of this
spectacular, serendipitous moment. Maybe even hang a golden arrow
in a tree as a prize for the greatest staff fighter at the party.
On an absolutely related note, is it just me, or do kids get smaller
every year? I mean, I'm not the biggest guy around, but when I
see these little junior-highers walking by, trying to be cool and hip
and everything they're not, I just have this barbaric urge to punt one
of them over the fence. They try so hard to fit in, whether it be
through their clothes, their language, or their actions, that all they
end up doing is awkwardly pole-vaulting face first into a gooey,
steaming pile of stewed fecal matter. Figuratively speaking, of course.
- - -
I am feeling utterly lethargic today. If I were not myself, I
would probably stand in my bedroom doorway and stare at myself,
mentally taking note that I resemble something to the extent of a
blind, arthritic, incontinent two-toed sloth.
And I would be correct.
Written by jihwan at 09:27 PM.
He steps outside the stuffy, overheated lobby of the Palmer House Hilton with a liberating sense of satisfaction. The air is cool, crisply biting into his sinuses and lightly ruffling his hair in a brisk midwestern greeting. The sun is on its slow descent, having provided a particularly warm day for downtown Chicago; the steadily disappearing rays filter through the mist and city smog, subtle beams of light punctuating its departure. Evening shuffles in to relieve the afternoon as it checks its voicemail and pulls out the paperwork for the night shift.
He pulls his jacket a bit tighter and slows his steps, letting his teammates catch up. They are all in high spirits, and after a day of studying and reviewing and quizzing in the various corridors of the hotel, a refreshing dinner break is exactly what they need. As they stroll through the streets on the lookout for a restaurant, he takes pictures of everything - the famous Sears tower jutting up through the throng of stone architecture, the strange-looking fire hydrants and traffic lights, and the the Loop, the transportation artery of downtown Chicago.
They finally decide to eat at a vibrant, bustling corner jazz cafe - his image of the epitome of urban Chicago night life. He nestles himself into a comfortable nook of the restaurant while his senses scurry to digest his surroundings. They dine amidst hazy wisps of cigarette smoke and free-wheeling notes swelling from a particularly expressive saxophone, bathed in the warm, claret glow of the stage lights and the bustle of evening conversation pieces. The food is good, the jokes plentiful, and the laughs contagious - he silently smiles and melts into a satisfied puddle of contented repose.
They lazily amble back toward the hotel, where more hours of resolute studies await them. Fellow pedestrians peer quizzically at the boisterous teens with mixed expressions of amusement and disapproval. He suddenly backtracks a bit as something catches eye; pulling out his camera, he snaps a photograph as the last streaks of the evening settle down for the night. As he looks over at his teammates, he knows that whatever happens the next few days won't matter. He's here in Chicago with some of his best friends having the time of their lives. They've worked together to get to this point, and nothing can take that away. It has been an amazing year - one of the best experiences of his life.
He's soon shaken out of this ridiculous reverie as his friends yell at him to catch the hell up. Jamming his camera into his jacket, he grins and charges over for another epic wrestling match.
Written by jihwan at 12:52 AM.