Here's what you need to know this morning: Not much.
* I've got the insomnia thing going on pretty well. I woke up (for good) at 2:20, and after an hour or so of tossing and turning and whirring my mind to no good effect, I decided to get up and look through some photos for the ol' blog.
* Which proves I'm always thinking of you, my dear reader.
* So...everyone laments about how little sleep they get, but what they don't know is this. No one cares. Well, maybe people care a wee bit but only vaguely and half-heartedly. Only so much to appropriate the "I care" look. It's the level of care you might feel for a friend if they complained about having lost a button, but far less care than if they said their zipper broke. Sleep deprivation lamenters also don't know or don't want to acknowledge this: they're bragging. (And when I say, "they," I mean....um, never mind; I've said too much already!)
All that being said, I do care for selfish reasons about the amount of sleep my pilot and surgeon have had.
But back to where we were. When I said a post or two ago that I'd explain why people brag about their lack of sleep, I did so with the solid confidence of a man in firm possession of a sensible and, frankly, mind-blowingly insightful theory. And now since it's so early and I haven't had any coffee, I must say that the best I can do is tell you that once upon a time I was a man who had a (mind-blowing) theory about why people brag about their sleep deprivation. Now I'm just a sleep hypocrite--bragging about my life-victimization without offering a redeeming story or theory for wasting your time. I could scratch around to dig up some lame explanation, but I don't want to insult you. I'll move on.
Oh theory of sleep deprivation, why did you abandon me so??!!
* I'm going to go brew some joe. (I'm back now.)
* My in-laws and their spouses are ridiculously smart, as is my wife. It's my good fortune to know tons of people much smarter than me.
* When I got to NOLA, as I do virtually every year, I go to Cafe du Monde and order chicory and their world-famous beignets. I'm no culinary expert, but they taste and have the texture of a doughnut gone wrong, but for the better. They're not quite as sweet as doughnuts, but they pile an outrageous amount of powder sugar on top of them. If I were to tell you the amount, you would not believe me. So I won't.
But looky: http://wheresmatthew.com/blog/media/blogs/wheresmatthew/Beignets01.JPG
When I'm finished eating, I look like Al Pacino in Scarface after he sticks his face in cocaine.
Lookey here: http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w46/teenhuik152/scarface-photo-xl-scarface-6235696.jpg)
It's how I feel, too. Seriously. After that intense rush of sugar and caffeine, my heart beats wildly and I'm dizzy.
So predictably I return every year.
Which is one more proof that it's best I've never tried cocaine. Cocaine is the last thing I need in my life given my personality--and people have told me as much. (True, not often; it's not the most frequent of conversations.) Despite what I said in my last post about being soulfully cool, there are some who (quite wrongly) claim I'm actually kind of wired and jittery. I know. I know. It's hard to believe.
* I don't know what to make of this photo. True, it's in keeping with my motif, my photographic idiom as it were. But I took this years ago, probably in 2004, when I bought my first digital camera. I didn't know at this time what my motif would be though I have always paid close attention to eyes and hands. The story of the photo is too complicated to share, which is to say that I don't remember it and probably wouldn't choose to remember it if I could. I confess it is indeed an odd pose she's striking, and I all I know with surety is that it was my student worker SD's doing (i.e. his fault).
I know you aren't surprised. He was always ordering me around, telling me to take strange photos.
* I need a new camera, btw. Oh, you've heard that already.
* I need to do some work now.
* Dang you, lost theory!!
Out.
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11 comments:
I think bragging about how little sleep you get is a subset of generalized bragging about how miserable your life is. College students have entire conversations in which they do nothing except compare how many assignments they have due. Ladies in church ladies classes rehearse all the horrible habits of their husbands. Ladies in hair salons just whine about everything ever.
I don't know why people do this either, but for a shallow analysis, I'd say it probably has something to do with the privileged status of victims in conversation. If your woes are woeful enough, no one can simply shut you up and start talking about something more interesting.
It's conversational tyranny.
p.s. I like beards.
Well, all that's right. Praising opens you up to lots of criticism. Being negative doesn't even require much in the way of standards or principles. Plus virtually no one is "cool" for their positivity. It's their rebellion that makes them cool.
I think you're also right about the victimization angle.
Conversational tyranny? Well, that's not so bad.
you like beards. hmmm....interesting. I do, too, for about two months every year.
Autumn. I would've picked it even if the choices hadn't been so clearly skewed. Not only is it the most poignant of seasons, but the name sounds so much more romantic than "fall."
I must say, your insomnia generates some amusing posts.
As to why we brag about getting no sleep, I have a theory - not only does it show what a productive/busy/thinky person we are, but how strong as well: Look, I got three hours of sleep, but I'm going on. Therefore all of my accomplishments today are more worthwhile than yours. Because I'm just. That. Hard.
For the record, I'm as likely to brag about getting enough sleep, because it's such a rare thing and displays what a healthy, well-balanced, disciplined and zen person I am.
Autumn. Yes. I'll note this later. I'm definitely a season tyrant.
and as for your zen-ness. yes, of course.
The types of people I'm drawnt to, and the types of people who respond to me in turn, are these:
1. emotionally on the edge desperate yearning souls who fear that their turbulent thoughts reveal unnatural inner violence.
2. zen masters.
oh, and 3. the folks who alternate between 1 and 2.
who i seem to have no draw for are normal healthy persons who go about their day contentedly, seeking ways of being more productive and useful to humanity.
i puzzle these people. of course every bit of this is nonesense. discount it all. chalk it up to fatigue-induced addledness.
by the way, i like both your theory and shinigami-sidhe's. i still can't retrieve my theory, but i think mine is a variant on yours. demonstrating one's fatigue excuses one's own mediocre performance.
such as this crappy note. this one. right here.
but your note, i liked, my zen master friend. of course, you're actually way too soulful to be a zen master.
shinigami-sidhe--
let me make a shout out here on your behalf.
people: this woman has a fabulous blog.
I'm flattered and pleased. And just for that, I'm writing you an essay with pictures on why you should have a beard for more than two months of the year.
Shinigami-sidhe--
I forgot to make the shout-out worth the while: http://shinigami-sidhe.blogspot.com/
i look forward to the essay on beards. i must confess I'm a hard sell on the idea. but i wait with an open mind.
What about a combination between types three and four? One whose recurrent tortured yearnings center on ways of being more productive and useful to humanity.
Also, you should read more George Eliot. Note my flattering assumption that you already have.
You mean types like Gandhi and Herr Schindler and Norma Rae and Mother Theresa?
Well, I admire them though I'm not especially drawn to them. Nor are they, it seems, especially drawn to people. Individual people. They're too bizzy bizzy making life better for the rest of us.
But for the non-saintly folks with this inclination who have time for a lunch with a bud, well, this is a very nice and elite (and guilt-generating) group of folks.
Is this your type, Joyf? Or is this you? be honest. You can tell me. no one reads this blog. really. i make up all the characters of respondents and write in to make the random passer-byer think I have an audience. Come on. Spill your guts here. (Or if not here then elsewhere.)
Hm. I can't say it's entirely my type, but rather that I feel it ought to be. I definitely have the whole world-vision thing going on, but I'm too much an individualist and prefer deep one-on-one interactions, friendships, etc. Therefore I find it hard to make myself generally "useful."
The last guy I dated was exactly this type, tho, with not much of a sense of compassion for the ordinary people in his life - or much of a sense of humor about them, either. I'm convinced the two are linked. In any case, maybe that's where the present guilt stems from.
Hello, other imaginary respondents! What's it like existing to support the fragile self-concept of Homie B?
first of all, how could you dare call my self-image fragile? that really hurt my feelings. a lot. oh god. i'll be back in a minute....
okay, i'm fine. i'm not fragile.
i'm not!
okay? please?
I suck.
----
and as for the connection you mention, i think you may be right.
saving the world requires earnestness and idealism. it means taking things really really seriously. it means having little tolerance for imperfection(s).
seeing the humor in things means delighting (typically) in irony and playfulness, and that means being able to see things from a variety of perspectives rather than from just a single perspective.
also, wanting to cure the world from suffering, while noble, can also lead to a feeling of self-righteousness as grand and annoying and intolerant of others as any religious bigotry.
but the guilt thing? is your guilt for not curing the world, or not working hard as you can to do so, or for not caring enough?
or what, woman?!
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