the unheralded power of the traffic control system

Every once in awhile we all have one of those moments. I'm not sure I have any way to describe what I really mean other than to just give you an example. The lonely red light. You're driving home and it's either really late or really early, but dark regardless. You approach an intersection, the light goes red and you slow to a halt. There are no cars behind you, none approaching, and you can't see any headlights to the left or right. There are no stores or buildings at the intersection; no activity of any kind. All that's there is you, yet you have to wait there anyway. It's impossible not to start thinking at that point. You think about what has happened, what will happen, what you want, what you fear, and so on. You think about everything because when you look around, there is nothing else. You may wonder why the light doesn't turn green when there are no other cars around. I think the light knows. I think the light is on a higher level, both literally and figuratively, and knows us better than we know ourselves. It knows that if it turns green, we'll speed off, get home, and fall asleep having gained nothing from the evening. So it stays red to let us, to make us, consider something, anything, and gives us the opportunity to step outside ourselves and see everything much more clearly than we do in most situations. I think the lonely late night red light is one of my favorite moments in life. No joke. I'd sit through 2 or 3 cycles if there were no other cars around, but that would be abusing the privilege of the red light. The light knows how long you need to be there, or if you need to be there at all. Do what it tells you to do, not because it's the law, but because it is objective, because it isn't influenced by anything. Its judgement is flawless.

Enjoy your next red light.

-alex

the baseball metaphors run wild/i would love some cheese with my whine

As I have stated before, I have avoided the usual high school drama scene. I also try to keep teenage related stuff out of my blog because I know there are a litany of journals and such out there for you to find. Today, I must regress. Today, I am simply another young adult trying to fight his/her way through the dangerous, arduous, tedious, inevitable game that is high school. Today I will do what we all have done or will do at some point; I will simply complain about something that isn't nearly as bad as I will most assuredly make it sound. As I sit in class looking off in the distance as if the answer to my troubles is posted up next to the periodic table on the far wall, I can picture myself sitting in front of the television, watching myself look off in the distance as if the answer to my troubles was posted up next to the periodic table on the far wall. Add a little music, some overly dramatic fade-to-black transitions, and scenes from next week's episode and I've got myself a primetime hit. I don't like being the guy who puts a rift in between people. I don't like knowing when all these people get together that my name will undoubtedly come up in some fashion. With nothing but good intents, I have succeeded in finding the balance in a well established group of friends and beating it to a lifeless pulp with a Fayville Slugger corked with secrets and drama. I can't step out of the batter's box, but I know if I stand in for the next pitch it's going to clock me in the head and that when I wake up there isn't going to be anyone on the field. I made my choice, I took the pitch, I told the catcher to call for one high and inside, and he did. I'll take my medicine, I'll take one in the noggin, but I hope when it's over I can take my base and keep playing the game I love with the people who I enjoy the most.

-alex

Blogification = 1/Lifeitude

I theorize that blogging is inversely proportional to having a life. I have two pieces of evidence to support this. First, I have not blogged in almost two weeks, by far my longest drought. In the last two weeks I've been doing a lot of stuff, thereby having a life. When I am expending all my mental energy in the real world, I have nothing left for my beloved blog. I have no bathroom humor, deep observations, or thoughtful questions. I really have nothing. My second support is Steve's blog. He admits in the first line of his most recent post that his life has been rather unexciting, yet he manages to discover new blogging genius every time he posts. No offense to Steve, of course, but boredom leads to the aforementioned blogging genius. I love blogging and hope I can get back in the swing of things, but for now I'll focus on life rather than try to force low quality blogification, which is all I would have right now.

-alex