lethargy

Things I've done today:

sleep
eat food
check my email
watch movie
fill out half a passport application
check my email
eat food
play mahjongg
practice violin for half an hour
drink ghiacchio
sit around and feel giddy, then depressed, then giddy again
eat food
watch movie

The moral of the story is: I currently have no ambition. Pretty sure all I've done for this entire break is sit around and try to keep myself entertained. I think that's the hugest problem with this culture. I'm annoyed. We for some reason have this notion that the whole purpose of our existence is to enjoy ourselves. We spend our days watching TV, going to movies, listening to music, playing computer games, making out, watching complete strangers make out on tv, eating food...for what purpose? To have a good time. What is that? Since when did that become the reason for living? Why am I going to college? To get a job? To make money so I can buy, you know, big screen TVs and IPods and Nintendos and swell cars? To make my life more exciting? To be entertained?
ARGH.
So. Music. About that. What is it, just another facet of this American selfishness? I admit it. I'm guilty. I listen to music for my own benefit. I sing music sometimes because I like hearing the sound of my own voice. I play violin...well, who knows for what reason, because God knows how excellent that sounds some days. Cough. I wonder if anyone really has an unselfish reason for making, or listening to, music. We say all these inspirational things about how music is deep and touching and powerful and all that nonsense, but how many people really believe that? How many people go to a concert and don't sit and scrutinize the performer? People don't go to a concert expecting to be "moved," whatever that means. People suck. They are cynical, judgmental, defensive, and superficial.
I can think of a few isolated instances in my life where I wasn't in the "skull and eye" mode, to borrow from Loren Eiseley (props to Art of the Essay for making me sound smart). I suppose the truth I need to come to terms with before I attempt to make a living off of playing music is that very few, really next to zero, performers actually reach the level of perfection it takes to be exempt from the scrutiny of the general public (people like me). So good luck with that.

In other news, it seems that a certain transition has occured in the collective age/maturity of my friends at home. Now, instead of talking abuot who's currently making out with whom, it seems that we've advanced to discussing who's currently marrying whom. all we EVER talk about is marriage. What. the crap. This topic is broached at least once every hour or so. WHY?? What the deal? Why is this all the sudden the center of our existence? I am nineteen years old. Why should I have to worry about this? I'm pretty much like just getting done with puberty. Or something. All the sudden I'm supposed to get hitched and knock out some babies, or what? Shudder.

Something monumental happened tonight. I mean, something even more monumental than all the, you know, SITTING ON MY BUTT. We (my friends and such) had a conversation about who of our high school friends of old has gotten taller. I think this is a pivotal moment in one's life, although I had been under the impression that it wasn't supposed to happen for another fifty years or so. So my plan is, next week when all those suckery high schoolers are in class, I'm going to give em all a little visit, and, you know, when I see someone who's grown, I'm going to, you know, pinch their cheeks. Isn't this what comes next? Ew. I can see my youth being pulled out from under my unsuspecting moccasins. Oh, cruel world. O tod, wie bitter bist du, wen an dich gedenket ein mensch. der gute tage und genug, hat und one zoge lebet, und dem es volgeht in ahlen dingen und noch volessen mag. Not sure what that means, but it's something about being old and waiting for death. I sang a song about it once. Wore a green shirt. Some pants, too.

I think I'm slowly turning into one of those bitter old ladies you see at grocery stores who start spouting smoke from their ears if the price of canned beans goes up a penny.