So, I just read Mr. B.'s latest entry (http://www.bbind.blogspot.com) about one of his students who was reminded of Mr. B, after watching President Obama on Jay Leno. What a smart guy. But after watching the interview (http://www.nbc.com/The_Tonight_Show_with_Jay_Leno/video/clips/president-obama-full-interview-319/1067541) there was something about him that reminded me of Mr. B. There was a charisma and a playfulness that was exactly like Mr. B's. He sounded just like Mr. B, when he was just joking around and being normal. Not at all when he was being "political"-God, I hate how fake politicians have to be, but the qualities I hate about politicians are traits that they can't get elected without, so I also just hate Americans. But am I a cynic for thinking that all politicians lie and are corrupt? All right, I don't really think that. Honestly, as much as I hate to say it, I do, deep inside of me, have some faith in people. But back to you, Mr. B. The truth is I don't even know President Obama, so I don't really know. And I don't know why you took it as a compliment. The only reason he reminded me of you was because you both make fun of the disabled (not really, though I felt really bad after talking to you and then coming home to all the news coverage on that). It was a compliment, and the truth is you're probably cooler than anyone arrogant enough to run for the presidency.
So, recently my sister and I have been fighting-ninja style. Even though we're joking, she's still a lot stronger than I am.
Now, I know that no one's really gonna care that I'm telling you guys this (if anyone's even reading this) but I'm excited about it so I'm just gonna tell it anyways. Last summer, I wrote a screenplay (wow, I feel pretentious writing that) and over Rodeo Break when my mom, sister and I went to L.A. for the weekend, one of the things we did was meet with some screenwriters my mom knows. We had dinner and a long conversation about writing and movies, in general, and I gave them a copy of my screenplay (after staying about till 2 in the morning the night before and deciding to edit it). Well, they just emailed back after having read it. I'm not gonna get into the whole thing but they liked it! Of course, it wasn't perfect, and they made a lot of very helpful suggestions and things I can work on (and I agreed with everything they said), but they liked it and think that I can only get better. And here's a direct quote from the email "After our dinner, I didn’t know what to expect, as there are hundreds, if not thousands of “writers.” The difference is that most of them can’t get anything cohesive, entertaining, memorable, insightful, etc… on the page. I think you’ve done that here. Is it perfect? No. Is it entertaining and a page turner? Yes. And the subject matter is dark. What is on the page can’t really be taught. It’s something that evolves with you the individual." So, I'm feeling pretty proud and excuse me for gloating, but I can't help it. I love getting feedback and when I do a good job. I always love it when Mr. B. really likes something that I've written, when I do really, really well on a math test (105%, baby!), and I felt so good when the whole class responded so well to my latest presentation and liked it as much as they did. And I feel really proud about this too. I think I generally keep a pretty humble attitude about it and usually act like it doesn't affect me, which is why I don't feel as bad writing all of this, but you know, I work hard and probably no one is reading this, so I'm just letting it all out for once.
This is also partly in response to part of Mr. B.'s latest entry in which he said ". . . it struck me, as it often does, how much we all carry around inside ourselves that we rarely let out. Sometimes people amaze me." And man, I don't know, but I just feel like that is so true. I know, from myself, that there's so much going on in my head, so many thoughts and emotions, that I never express. No one knows these things at all. Just the other day, I broke down and started crying, telling my mom that I felt like she wasn't proud of me. I think there's a whole other side of everyone that we don't see. And I wish we could because it is amazing, there's nothing more human in the world and I do sympathize.
This kind of goes along with all of that. The other night, while driving in the car, my mom said she thinks she'll probably die in 15 years. This horrified me. 15 years. I'd only be 30 or so, in 15 years. Only 15 more years I have with her. If that. She doesn't even know after the cancer. The first step is to make it to 5, then 10, and so on and so on. But she thinks she and our dog will die about the same time, in 15 years. You know, even though I know everyone will die, it hurts so much to actually think about it. One day my mom will never come back. Just be gone. The most important thing in the world to me will die and never come back. And my dog-all her joy and happiness. This wonder. One day she'll die and I'll have nothing left but the memories and I can never be with either of them again. Sometimes I just really hate life. Why does it have to be this way? When I think about myself, I don't mind knowing I'll die. In fact, I don't want to live to be too old. It gets to a point where there's just no joy or anything to live for and I want to die enjoying everything. But I also don't want it to end. I could never kill myself, even if I wanted to, because I know I might be missing out on something. But sometimes there's just so much pain. It's weird to think about it. Even with people who I don't like as much. My uncle. How weird to think about? One day I'll go to my uncle's funeral. Think about it. Everyone you know will die. You'll go to their funerals and they'll never come back. Your teacher. Your cleaning lady. Your friend. All these wonderful people die. And they just don't die like they do in the movies. They actually die. Not from old age. Not in their sleep. That never happens. It's just a way to hide the pain. Those lies are just to protect us from the fact that as you get older, you just get sicker and have diseases. I can't do this anymore. I'm gonna stop here. But it's things like these that represent all the things we carry around with us and never let out. I'm letting out. Life is tough and there are parts of it that just really suck. Sometimes you've just gotta go-this really sucks and in the end, it all just sucks-but there's so much to be grateful for, to enjoy everything you do have, and to appreciate what you do have. Try and have some fun with it. Just laugh. I know I sound like some cliche grandpa telling life lessons, but you know it's true. Sometimes things are cliches because they're true. Sometimes the lessons you learn as a kid-to live life to the fullest, or that if you never try, you never know, or to try and make great memories and do exciting things that you haven't done before-well those lessons are the first ones you learn for a reason. They're true and the most important ones.
Alright, I'm signing off. And to close off Mr. B. style-I hope your presidents are as charming as your teachers, I hope your fights are full of cool ninja moves, I hope you feel proud of yourself, I hope you let it all out, and I hope you live life well. And don't worry-next time things won't be so heavy (I'll be sharing a new, humorous video with you that my brother and I made over the weekend). And because I have to end my blog my own way-here's a wonderful clip of the late Elliott Smith playing two hauntingly beautiful songs on the piano:
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