Aaron vs. Accomplishment

In the last few days, I've managed to get my father to switch from AOL Broadband to RoadRunner (yes, even customer support was laughing at us for not doing it sooner), overcome a fear of allergies by eating both grapes and mangos (slow and steady wins the race) and managed to defeat my revising block, coming up with good new drafts which make the originals look like crap (though previously, I asserted they were perfect).

And what has it gotten me? Nothing. A firm slap on the wrist in terms of a wake-up call: reminders that when I inevitably return to graduate school as a creative writing fellow, I'm going to need some career orientation to show them for this year. And my short story collection won't cut it, nor will Barnes and Nobles. So back to the job search, and the blog, with the idea that all these little accomplishments by which we grade our lives aren't really worth anything.

I mean, let's look at this parable masquerading as an anecdote in re allergies. Now, I haven't eaten most fruits in over ten years. So imagine how good they taste to me now - it's like I've managed to open up a whole new world by simply forgetting the old one. This goes completely in synch with my whole creative writing ouvre of perception, but I love the new sensations. We should only be so lucky as to reguarly wipe our minds ala Eternal Sunshine.

No more digressions though: this whole return to the sublime texture and sensation of what was previously a "forbidden" fruit got me thinking about the whole "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and the old salt about "saving yourself" so that the first time really meant something. Well, I mean, it's too late for that now. But I ran a little mental algorthim - and here's the story - as to what would happen to a man that hasn't had sex in ten years.

You see, this man happens to be extremely hideous, so he consequently has to hire extremely expensive hookers - not because ugly ones won't do him, but because he still has taste - who still make him brown bag, but hey, he's getting laid. This inevitably bankrupts him, and he finds himself living as a homeless person. And feel free to insert your own joke about that here. God knows I'm already going to hell for all my "what ifs" involving the unfortunate streetwalkers, if not onto the street myself, so I won't dig that hole any deeper.

Now, this man manages to build himself back up - slow and steady again, let's re-enforce that message - and after ten years, he has enough money to either buy a house and the security that entails, or hire a hooker. Yes folks, he is that ugly. He mulls his options, thinks carefully about it, and then of course decides to have sex, because, well, security is one thing - but it's been ten years. And of course, this bankrupts him again, and he's back out on the street. It's a vicious cycle, because the man's as smart as he is ugly, so he keeps building up his money, but blowing it - literally, figuratively, whatever - prematurely.

So, this man has accomplished nothing, just as I, with my return to fruit, have really accomplished nothing. If anything, according to the story, I'm going to eat cherries while brown-bagged and get kicked out of the Garden of Eden. Wow. Not really sure how any of that came together. Let me get the heck out of this blog while I'm ahead - that is, while I've accomplished something.

CURRENT MUSIC VIDEO:
"Party Starter," by Will Smith. Clean rap, nice looking video: he's still got it all.

RANDOM PLUG:
Somebody recently posted something about how I was their "arch-nemesis" in the eighth grade and that she consequently was told to date me... that's going to be the last time I google myself.

boo-yeah to:
"Hex," the pseudonym for Emily Cox and Henry Rathvon, the cryptic constructors for The Atlantic (which may be returning to fiction after all) and just astounding puzzlers. I may have solved your little game this month (October 2005), but I'm sure you'll get me next time. You always do. Thanks for keeping my mind sharper than the Su Doku Grand Master Challenge (logic can always be out-thought, riddles defy logic).

MY LIFE (an update):
This marks the return to my trend of regularly updating my blog, but also the end to this little additional section at the end. It requires far too much analosity (coined it here first!) and patience. I could be playing Bridge, dating a girl or writing a novel. So if this is why you read my blog, bugger off - this was never the grist of the story anyway.