PSST . . .
So, The New York Times published this story about a blog devoted to secrets, where people send in postcards on which their secrets are written, printed, glued, decoupaged, whatever. It's quite a remarkable site, and it's naively stunning to see how many and how varied are the secrets that are out there. Some of the secrets are so, so funny ... and others are so heartbreaking.
If I had the time, the postcard, the cojones to send in my own postcard(s), I wonder what secret I would tell.
Maybe the one about ___ ... or how I feel about ___ ... or I wish I had ___ ... or what I would do to ___ ... or how I had ___ ... or the time I ___ ... or what happened when I ___ ... or how I wished she would ___ ... or how I wish he would ___ ...
Juicy, juicy!
***
WHAT THE . . .
Alright, I watched the season finale of "Alias."
WHATEVER!
This is just too nuts. The show is turning all sorts of "Days of Our Lives" on me, and I just can't keep track of who's dead, who's revived, who never died in the first place, who is whose real parents, who is whose fake parents, whose name is what, who is bad, who went good, who turned bad again. All that, and the world almost ended. All you need is Dierdre Hall with her eyes glowing green and levitating out of her bed, and you have a class-A NBC soap opera masquerading as a spy drama.
I just want the spying to come back. You know, good guys get the bad guys. Use some cool gadgets, throw some cool kickboxing moves, bang-bang, you're dead and the good guys come riding home in the sunset. Call me traditionalist, but Vaughn's real name not being Vaughn does not constitute good spy action drama to me.
***
BLEH . . .
I am stricken with inertia.
Perhaps it's because I've been sick for most of my recent memory and can't remember the last day that I didn't cough periodically and blow my nose to the point of nostril-crustiness.
Perhaps it's because it's 2005 and almost June, to boot, and I can't help but wonder, "where did the last five months go and what useful things have I done in that time?"
Perhaps it's because I'm nearly thirty and I can't help but wonder, "am I truly satisfied with my life right now and am I really able to trust God with it?"
Perhaps it's because I see other people having things that I want, but I haven't the first clue as to how to go about getting those things for myself too.
Perhaps it's because I feel like I'm being teased, with something being dangled just centimeters out of my reach, something that is yanked away everytime I reach for it, and all I need to do is make that one final lunge that puts that something into my fingers' grasp.
Perhaps it's because I'm just sleepy but my genes don't let me sleep well.
Perhaps it's because I'm hungry but I can't figure out what I want to cook.
Perhaps it's because I'm mentally still on the academic calendar, and AP-exams have ended, and now it's just movie-watching in class before school breaks for the summer and I can do nothing of substance for three whole months. I wish.
