After days of terrible heat, with a nasty haze I’ve always hated draped over the sky like an ugly old dirty curtain, the weather changes abruptly with a delicious cool wind blowing hard from the Alps, I think. Yeah, the Alps, that’s it; they must be close to where I am.
Growing up, there was nothing in the world I wanted more than to smoke a cigarette. Weird? Maybe. What was yours greatest wish, wiseass? Great salary, sports car, fancy house in the ‘burbs, tickets to the opera? Really? Shut up, you too wanted a secret smoke just as much as I did.
I’m surprised I’m still alive. I should have died…I don’t know, at least a dozen times by now. I grew up with parents who taught me an important lesson, driven into the deepest recesses of my brain every single day during that crucial morning time when I struggled to hurriedly lace up my shoes and make it to school before the first bell. That lesson was: be afraid.
I’m going to say some pretty nasty things about some pretty nasty people. I will not change their names in order to spare their feelings or save them from public embarrassment. I don’t care about their feelings. In fact, generally speaking, I don’t really care about most people’s feelings.
In college I worked an on-campus office job. It filled the many boring hours between my classes and paid me just enough to be able to cover the cost of textbooks each semester without having to ask my parents for more cash.
If you haven’t noticed yet, I am bilingual. Now, for some of you fluent only in the language in which I am writing these words, my condition may seem like something simply AWESOME. Thank you, you can stop applauding me now. Yes, yes, I’m fantastic, I know. But seriously, stop, you’re making me blush.
It occurred to me just the other day that I’ve wasted eight years of my life learning to speak Russian. Not that there’s anything wrong with learning Russian, especially if you aren’t Russian by birth and can’t already speak it by default.
Judging by many of your blogs, Facebook addiction is a dangerous thing. I’ve just finished reading several posts about the difficulties one experiences during de-Facebookization. Serious stuff, that. My sympathies to all of you trying to quit.
I’m concerned about the human race. I’m concerned about the race as a whole and, more importantly, I’m concerned about certain individual specimens of our race. My concern rest mainly in the following area. It appears to me that some very old creatures formerly known as humans no longer possess that natural ability of all living things—to die—having replaced all of their mortal parts with plastic and/or carbon fiber.
Umberto Eco once said “I know the present only through the television screen.” It seems to me the same can be said about most of us today.