Vanilla Solitude

September 25, 2009 · 9 comments

Overall, I think the sin I struggled with most during my trip to San Diego was envy.  I’d like to discuss this at length, but I’m tired and would like to make it to work on time tomorrow – even if it is a Friday.  So this will be short.

[Famous last words of Ted Wallace.]

I just finished Life of Pi – Yann Martel is the author, by the way.  I really should update my Goodreads profile; there are a lot of books I’ve read recently that aren’t included therein/on.

I’d have to say that I would recommend this book relatively highly.  I’d give it two semi-enthusiastic thumbs up.  I can’t really go off on a tirade about how wonderful it was, because it wasn’t.  But it wasn’t crappy either.  Very (brown) Indian – lots and lots of adjectives piled atop one another, which I find to be somewhat tiresome and frilly.  The story, while not ridiculously exciting, moved along at a fairly brisk pace, for which I was and am grateful.

As far as making me believe in God (with a capital ‘G’), I’m not so sure.  Probably less than Millman’s book Way of the Peaceful Warrior was a “life-changing” read [read my semi-half-assed review here].  Maybe I am and was too tired to take Martel’s implications and run and dance with them.  Maybe they just need time to sink in.  Man is an animal.  Yay and duh at the same time.

Overall, though, it was an interesting and quick read and didn’t conform (in my mind at least) to one of the 21 (or however many) major plotline archetypes.  Two thumbs, but not all that far up.  Maybe waist-high, but not as stiff as the Fonze’s.

I don’t know if it’s the book, some bit of jet lag, or a combination of both and other things as well that’s left me a bit off today.  I didn’t get very much done at work, which isn’t unusual – though I did take care of everything that might qualify as immediately pressing.

It was nice to sit in my chair and read with Laila Jo in my lap, purring like a fuzzy engine.  She shad quite a bit while I was petting her – and while I was away.

Overall, I have an overwhelming sense of solitude.  It’s not the sweet kind that comes with finally having some time to myself after a stretch of busy-ness, nor is it the bitter kind that’s soured by loneliness.  My solitude is more of a fact: it just is.

I flew to the other side of the country and back again over the course of three days – albeit accompanied (to a certain extent) the entire time.  I returned home to find things pretty much as I had left them.  I did not have a sense of home-coming.  In fact, when I returned a text to a friend of mine, I couldn’t bring myself to say “it’s good to be home”, rather, I said “it’s good to be back“.  I struggled with my choice of words for a moment, deciding to err on the side of truthfulness.

Not that I’m not home.  Nor am I in some sort of melancholic malaise.  I just am, and that’s a very bland fact right now.  Not nearly as exciting as the yogis and zen masters make it out to seem.  At least not right now.  I’m going to bed.  Things are always different in the morning.

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{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }

The Naked Redhead September 25, 2009 at 09:02

I enjoyed Life of Pi, though it didn’t make me believe in God either. It did, however, give me hope that someone can reconcile religion within him/herself. I may be a little more enthusiastic than you about the book…but then again, I’m very affected by violence in art, so much of the book produced a heightened emotional sense for me.

Also, yay for nice cats!

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Cheryl September 25, 2009 at 09:25

After reading about Laila Jo for so many entries, I’m wondering why it is you are willing to give the cat up? You two seem well-suited.

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Christof September 25, 2009 at 09:54

Interesting.

I was born in the UK but grew up in Australia and now reside in the USA, over these past 18 years of traveling the world 95% of the people I’ve met had to be told of where I came from.

The UK say Australia, Australian’s say UK and American’s say many different origins for my birth, I have no attachment to any country family and friends aside and I’ve often wondered “Where would I be buried when I die?”

I have no true starting point, there is no real place I can call my home….and I don’t wear hats so I can’t lay one down and call it good (It’s an old song for you young-ins)

There’s nothing worse than putting the key in the lock, opening the door and walking into a place with no real attachment for you, it’s like gargling with water and hoping for fresh minty breath.

My current abode still feels somewhat alien to me but is the closest to Home I’ve had in a very long time.

Keep the cat, in a characterless place even a thimble of life is enough to start the heart pumping once again.

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BRIAN September 25, 2009 at 09:57

I see on my screen yay for nice cats than to the right under tags in big letters it says Catskill 3500 club. thats funny.

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Being Samiantha September 25, 2009 at 11:21

Keep the cat!

She is something to come home to, and will keep you from becoming jilted/jaded about love in the long run.
You can not get so bummed about it, cos you’re actively giving your love to someone. Even it is to the cat.(for the moment)

Not the most witty comment, but I’m sure you being as smart as you are can make sense of the point I’m trying to make.

WELCOME HOME TED!! WOOT WOOT!

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Scott September 25, 2009 at 11:56

Ted the Cat Lady

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BRIAN September 25, 2009 at 12:10

You got pussy at the crib 24/7…I’m jealous.

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Being Samiantha September 25, 2009 at 12:22

Love your comments Brian lol

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$@bs September 25, 2009 at 15:54

Life of Pi = HOT

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