Waxing Eloquent. Watermelon.

So to recap, remember that long, pseudo-philosophical post about choices or something like that? Yeah, so I decided to take the new job and I start tomorrow. Winning!

This post isn't about that. I'll still try to make it short though because my version of 'waxing eloquent' can easily be mistaken for rambling.

I was just thinking about the concept of happiness and achieving it and how our entire society is based around the concept that happiness is a 'right.' Which believe it or not is a fairly recent invention. Most of us come off today as entitled to happiness, which strikes me as a little arrogant.

And people get really depressed when they're not able to achieve 'happiness.' To me, it kinda seems like people go about it all the wrong way -- the reason they do things is to be happy. I mean, search for books on achieving happiness and self-improvement. It's a huge industry in its own right, and the reason it's so big is because people keep writing books, because people keep buying them, which means trying to be happy doesn't work. I'm as guilty of this as anyone, but if your end goal is simply to be happy, you never will be.

You can't ever do anything with the end goal of happiness in mind. If you want to be happy, you'll have a genuine, continuing passion for something. Theater, people, art, hey, maybe your life ambition is to make awesome engine parts at a factory, knowing that people will use them and appreciate how well they work. And that effect you'll have on other people is probably your best shot at happiness.

But then, lo and behold, irony of ironies strikes. If you're only doing it to be happy, you still won't be because that's your goal.

Of course, throughout this whole thing, I keep saying you when I really mean 'me.' I can wax eloquent (crap, I rambled) about this stuff all the time, but it usually just means that this is stuff I need to work on and I realize it.

Some people call that maturity. I call it 'pencil' because I like to assign new definitions to existing words.

I'm so watermelon.

Speaking of risk...

I took one.

More later.

Okay, here's a real one.

Ever get stuck in one of those situations where you're pretty sure you want to go ahead and do something, but there's this one caveat that makes you wonder if it's worth it at all? So that one tiny thing leads to you spending all this time and energy trying to find a workaround until you finally get exhausted trying to shoehorn everything together into a workable scenario and you just give up and say 'screw it, it's not worth it; I can deal with things as they are.'

The guy on the right knows what I'm talking about.

I'm like that right now in a situation that I can't exactly talk about yet, not publicly. Do I just go for it despite the possible drawback? It COULD pay off in spades. But it could blow up in my face. Staying where I am is safe, but not ideal.

Hey, want to know something cool? The above post is purposefully vague, but it has a definite topic. Yet, I read through it again and discovered that it can apply to at least TWO different things happening in my life without a single word being changed!

...Day-um, I do need to do something.

That was depressing. Here's a puppy!

This is a blog post.

I declare it to be so.

Beer-Guzzling Feline

Maybe it's just the nature of my job, but for some reason I've become acutely aware of all the little, weird things I do, as well as the things other people do. Uncomfortably so at times, to the point where I start second-guessing myself. Did I say that because I'm secretly insecure about my weight? That thought, as many of you who know me personally could guess, occurs quite often.

But pardon me, this post isn't about myself. That would be selfish. This is about some OTHER guy.

Okay, all faux-hypocrisy aside, it really is funny why people do the things they do. I've pretty much given up trying to figure it out for the most part, since I usually don't understand the things I do. If I can't figure that out, what business do I have analyzing someone else?

Doesn't stop me from wondering though. Today at the store, I was in line behind this mullet-sporting guy who wore short shorts and was only buying two things -- cat food and beer. Weird combination. He must've been aware how odd this seemed, since he spent his entire time at the register telling the cashier things like "I was just gonna get cat food, but then I thought my cat might want a beer."

Given that it wasn't particularly funny or clever, WHY did he feel the need to say this? Maybe he sensed the cashier's eyes of judgment staring into his soul or felt guilty for skimping on his cat's food so he could afford the beer. Then again for all I know he's a hedonist millionaire, which makes both of those points moot. There's so much I don't know and I don't have room or authority to make a judgment call.

Point is, I don't know, and all I'm left with is a situation where I'm stuck in line behind a guy buying cat food and beer who blames the beer purchase on his cat. But I'll be darned if the situation wasn't really amusing.

Maybe I should just apply Occam's razor to this situation: His cat has a drinking problem and he's an enabler.


You really can find anything on Google.

I swear I'm trying!

But posting in a blog is hard. Like, most of the time I don't even remember I have a blog. And that's not just an excuse; I forget lots of things. Like two days ago I realized somewhere around 5 pm that I was hungry, and it wasn't just a minor hunger-ache. It was like, mind-blowing stomach-about-to-collapse-in-on-itself-for-sustenance intense. Why? I forgot to eat all day. And that's not an isolated incident. Point is, I forget stuff all the time.

Maybe though, if people had some awareness of my blog, I'd post on it! I might not forget that for the same reason that I have an iPhone app that reminds me to drink water. People would bug me if I didn't post.

I stopped in the middle of this post to play a game on my phone. I'm so forgetful I forget things while I'm doing them.

I guess what I'm saying is I need validation in order to remember to post, so I need to shamelessly plug my blog. Where does one go to do this kind of thing???

Blast, foiled again!

I almost forgot I had this thing! I need to write something, quickly! C'mon Tuna, be clever. Think man, think! Er, fish! Think, fish, think!

This isn't easy when your brain is so small, it will go unnoticed when your life inevitably ends in a can.

Come to think of it, it's made even harder by the fact that I don't have hands. I type with fins. Tiny, stubby, fins. Good thing I'm an abnormally large tuna or I wouldn't even be able to reach the whole keyboard.

But wait... I have a computer... that means I have a waterproof computer. Geeeeez! How much did I PAY for this thing?? Unless... I don't. Which means, I can breathe air! I'm an air-breathing fish! I must have mutated in my sleep last night! Like the Doctor when he regenerates, or the Hulk when he gets angry!

Angry?

ANGRY.

YOU WOULDN'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY.



Soon. Soon...