Day 60

A picture of something I'm excited about:

Dude, Winter is Coming so hard you aren't even ready for it.

I am prepared for the TV series Game of Thrones not to rock my world the particular way the A Song of Ice and Fire novels did - in fact, I'm rather excited for the different breed of rocking.

Reading the books, I'd get thoroughly invested in the characters' journey as they each navigated the grey-scale of their particular moral landscape; then I'd get thoroughly annoyed as every other character up and died for no apparent reason.  Not even a good deus ex machina; it just seems like Martin doesn't want us to be too invested in each character.

Now in theory, I admire this: too often in sci-fi/fantasy books, it's clear as day (clearer; I live in LA) who's going to live and who's gonna bite it by the end.  However, I need those deaths to mean something.  In practice, I hate feeling like I've been taken on an interesting ride only to have it terminate at the halfway point with nary an explanation as to why.

Now that I know what's coming - in the broad strokes - it should be interesting to see the TV interpretation.  The fine layers of intrigue many of the characters lay have to be present in some aspect, but I can't imagine they'll be quite as fine or quite as many as in the books.  Plus, Sean Bean is Eddard Stark, so I'm watching.

This whole 60 Pictures in 60 Days thing took more than 60 pictures, and far more than 60 days - which is the only way it could happen, if it was to be anything like an accurate peek into my mind.  It's been fun; I may just start photoblogging random crap at you from time to time.  My internal purpose has been served; I've been reminded to write more.  I've learned a little bit about brevity; we'll see if that particular lesson sticks.  I've been almost totally no-holds-barred about it; the only things I haven't felt comfortable writing about are really other people's stories.  I have enough of my own to tell.  And there are more, so keep an eye out.

Gooooo bye-bye!!

Day 59

A picture of a random item I own:

The Wheel of Time.

Well, it don't get any more random than walking around my room and taking a picture of the first thing that catches my fancy.  And what caught my fancy this afternoon is The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan, with Brandon Sanderson picking up the writing duties since the former's death.  It's expansive, which I always appreciate, and nowhere near as depressing as A Song of Ice and Fire...

Day 58

A picture of my favorite animal:

you knew that was coming, right?

Best. "Fever." Ever.

Also: did you know that Dave Coulier was the voice of Animal and Bunsen on Muppet Babies?  I just learned that.  Somehow, this surprises me more than learning he was the inspiration for "You Oughtta Know."


(Okay, no, it doesn't really surprise me more than that.  Nothing will ever surprise me more than that.)

Day 57

A picture of my favorite holiday:

I never thought it was such a bad little tree either, Linus.

Every year, I wait for that moment - that moment when it starts to feel like Christmas.  Lately, it's been hard to get that feeling, but I think that's just because my insomnia has been getting worse with each passing year and Baby Sis still insists on opening presents at seven in the damned morning.

Christmas is midnight services at church and the Hallelujah Chorus; picking out the perfect gift and spending five minutes wrapping it, even though I know it'll be torn into in ten seconds.  But most importantly, Christmas is when I force myself to shed my depression (which isn't entirely seasonal, but gets worse in the winter) and spread some damned good will.

I may not be a good little Christian any more, but I still believe in miracles.  And it remains miraculous to me that, whatever their faith or purpose, people take advantage of this holiday - sullied as it is, in Charlie's words, by "crass commercialism" - to give to one another.  That's the part I never lose sight of; that's why, even in the midst of my depression, my sleeplessness, and my early-morning frustration, I still love Christmas.

The Short List

After two hours of talking, my old friend looked at me and said, "I can't tell if you're happy.  You seem happy, but I can't tell if you really are.  You're grateful, but are you happy?"

Um, hell if I know.

I spun a very nice, intellectual answer, while I was trying to a) understand the answer to her question and b) keep her from looking too closely at it.  It ended with, "I'm not content - but I'm content with that fact."

"You are so full of shit!" was the reply.  And granted, this is something most of my friends know.  But they don't always know when I'm spreading it around.  And even among those who do, how many will tread there, behind my occasionally-obvious barriers, without my expressed prior consent?

That's a short list.


I need those people.  It's not healthy, to get away with whatever self-deceptions I feel like peddling.  That's the quick path back to not knowing which end is up when I look in the mirror.

So thanks, old friend, for still being on the short list.  I owe you.

Day 56

A picture of something that makes me happy:

Back in Indy, May 2010.

There is a more sedate version of this picture, but this one has more of her essence.

Behold the baby sister.

I was a bad big brother, growing up.  Granted, she was a bad little sister, but that's not my responsibility.  I didn't treat her well, and few were the occasions on which I felt the need to defend her to outsiders.  I ignored her whenever possible...but then that's part of the "older sibling" job description during a certain phase of development.

When she came out to me, I was drunk.  I'd already known, but still: here's yet another important moment in the life of a loved one for which I was only partially present. 

One of the more glaring signals of my alcoholism, among the first red flags that planted itself beneath my denial, occurred during one of our famous fights.  She and I both have raging tempers, when set loose, and nobody knows how to unlock your temper like your family.  The fight wasn't important, though.  The key moment was when she looked at me, full of scorn, and said "Whatever David, just have another drink."

Yeah, that tastefully cinematic moment was brought to you by sibling revulsion and the letter C.

So I've been trying to make it up to her.  And the thought that makes me happy is that I've been succeeding - I'm an actual big brother, now, and maybe a pretty good one.  At least, I'm present and empathetic and supportive and proud. We still argue, but then we're still family, so that's gonna happen.  It's pretty rare that we fight.  Mostly, we just laugh, trade updates and share our particularly sardonic perspectives on family current events.

Day 55

A picture of the last movie I saw in the theater:

getting chills right now.

I would have missed this experience if my buddy Bill hadn't been in town and looking for something to do.  Creeped me right the hell out.  What's strange to me is that Portman followed this up with Your Highness.

Isn't there anyone around to slap good actors upside the head and say, "Don't do that!"

Because if you pay me, I'll do it.