Music.

Y'know how as you do more, your craft is supposed to improve? Yeah, I have very little to be proud of in terms of composing since college. I'm afraid I've gotten worse at making music rather than getting better.

Love Affair

I'm in a bit of an affair with the city of Shanghai. As I've explained to friends, it's like New York without the overwhelming sense of depression and sadness. I feel as though effort here actually returns something (and who knows if it does).

The people here are tolerant, generally smart, and often seem motivated. In spite of how cold it can be, I love it here. I leave in two days and I'm not excited to return to my old life. While this may have something to do with being waited on hand and foot by the staff at the hotel, I suspect a bit more it's related to the spectacle and movement of this place.

Not vacationitis, I swear.

Itchy eyes

After working over the weekend (no matter the amount), Monday is always a real drag.

Misspellings.

The misspelling that will forever make me laugh out loud is "seemless".

High Fidelity

I've just watched High Fidelity for (probably) the hundredth time. The result:


  1. Lists are quite functional. Especially when built in units of five.

  2. John Cusack's delivery of dialog is very nearly as perfect for Nick Hornby prose as Hugh Grant's.

  3. My father is a representation of stability. Don't ask me how this came from the movie. It did.

  4. Sarah and I are more like that idealistic relationship that exists between Rob and Laura than I joked about to myself some time back.

  5. The main character in High Fidelity is truly an exposure of the modern male mind.



Having taken some time to reflect on things, it's not just that I miss my father. It's that from a general way of life, he was a foundation of stability. Even in all the medical crises and such, there was an ever-present sense that it would all work out. An aura he simply created. And he knew he did it. He knew exactly how to keep everyone from worrying right up until he couldn't go any further.
That directly contributes to the condition I find myself in when I deal with the complex or the simple problems that I would normally call my father about.
"Dad, there's this girl..."
or "Dad, I'm thinking about making some custom cabinets. Any suggestions on the type of wood?"
He had an answer. An explanation. A simple, often profound piece of advice. My point being that I feel as though now I'm moving like the stars: hundreds of miles a second, hurling through existence with either purpose... or not. Who knows? Why did I grow to depend on my assumption of his opinions as a gauge for my success? (Probably because he was a better man, and people could see that in him.)

I'm sure most find it sick, silly, or perhaps pathetic, but I do quite literally know nearly every word to the movie. Probably because of the comfort it's provided for every major devastation (actual and perceived) that I've encountered since ~1999. And you all just thought it was a Cusack man-crush.
Watching the film provides a chance to simply bring the dialog back. At the bar, Rob says of Laura, "She didn't make me miserable... or anxious... or ill at ease. Y'know, it sounds boring... but it wasn't. It wasn't spectacular, either. It was just... good. But really good."
I realized that this is most likely the perfect way I would describe a relationship. There is such a thing as true love. But there's one, maybe two shots at it and if you make it, then great. If you don't. Maybe you haven't spent it all, but you're certainly complacent about trusting someone with it when they're around for a while. So the ability turns into defense. It ebbs and flows. Sometimes you trust it; other times you don't even know if it's real. But I'll tell you, something finally feels normal. You live life, as you, with someone else there for the fun. And you know what? It's the happiest I've ever been, even if I didn't think it was possibly just a couple of years ago.

I think the appeal with the movie is its true testament of all of us as men. Sorry, ladies, we're looking around. The good ones just know when to stop. We're in a constant state of interest. Interest in you, and every other girl that strikes us as desirable. Even if those thoughts only last about 10 fleeting seconds. I was married. It changed what I could and should do when talking to another beautiful woman. It does not dictate our thoughts. It dictates what we do with them. That's fidelity.