3 Random Things That Make Me Happy
A semi-recurring post I have here is Three Minutes’ Hate, which is semi-recurring since I only seem to be able to semi-regularly post. I was thinking today about a small, random event that nevertheless made me disproportionately happy. This isn’t a list of more obvious things that make me happy – seeing my darling wife for lunch made me very happy, but then again it should, right? Therefore, this post is for more uncommon things that give me much more joy than their happening would otherwise seem.
Work Annoyance
Hello, wife and Peruvian farmer! I apologize for the lack of updates – work has been alternating between a grind and flurry in an attempt to close the second quarter, and so my missives have been non-existent. I am still working on the story, in my head, so hopefully when I get a chance I will be able to get some of it down on paper, digital or otherwise. Friday and this weekend I am committed to carving out time to write. I will also be parsing out more meager portions to spread the dissemination over more time. Maybe.
Birthdays and Contemplating Mortality
I just recently had a birthday – /groan – which is normally not a big deal for me. The day has never been particularly important. I think growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness had something to do with that, since we didn’t celebrate anything at all – except of course the Glory of the Lord, which decidedly does not include parties with punch and pie. It was a little strange, though, having a birthday on the Monday after the passing of so many famous people.
Random Thoughts
I didn’t have enough on my mind on any single subject to do anything in depth, but I did want to at least post something this week. Here are some random thoughts on subjects that had occured to me this week.
Celebrity Deaths. I was saddened to hear about Farrah Fawcet’s death. Part of me knew it was inevitable, due to her condition, and yet it was still incredibly disheartening when it happened. Michael Jackson’s death, however, was just the opposite – strange and out of nowhere. It got me thinking, though, about celebrities, and especially music artists, who die early. Many of them are venerated far above where they had been in life, like Kurt Cobain, as if their death gave them the ability to be less suseptible to criticisms like how overrated their bands and sound were. With Jackson, I had the feeling that, if he could have known in advance how and when he would die, he might have chosen to die younger, before the child molestation scandals, before the pure-drenched weirdness that his life became. It’s a shame really, to fly so high and yet fall so low. But like someone said about Icarus, “at least he flew.”