Monday, August 27, 2012
The West Wing and The Tragedy That Is My Life
Yesterday something strange but utterly predictable happened, and while I do harbor a hatred for "beating the dead horse" I also harbor a love for "baring my honest soul" and today my love for the latter has taken over. Anyway the strange thing! I was watching "The West Wing" because my mama and papa sent good ol' Aar-Baer and me the full series on DVD. Have you ever seen this full series set, like in a Best Buy or anything? They made it look like a big... well, I don't know, a big top-secret presidential file. When I opened it I instinctively looked to my right and my left to make sure no one was seeing me spy on these uncovered cold case files revealing the truth about the Russians and how Sherriff Joe is really just a cryogenically frozen Darth Vader. Top secret government secrets of the topmost nature. Anyway, no one was watching me unfold the folders of discs.
So I put in disc one and pushed play and was instantly reminded of the giggly silliness of the theme music for that show. Immediately I texted my brother to complain and he said "You must! You must push stop on the show and fast forward through the music, lest that the mood be ruined!" And he was right, but sadly it was too late. But I was eating a big leftover pancake from a previous day's breakfast, so nothing could have ruined my cheer at that particular moment.
As I was watching Episode 1 of the beginning of it all, there was a scene in which Josh is having a sandwich with another little Capitol Hill worker bee lady whom he fancies. They made no reference in their conversation to the weather, which made the weather outside their little cafe that much more endearing, because it must have been real and not "backstage." It was windy beyond windy; coats flying, hair mussing, leaves swirling. It was gray and it looked cold out there.
And that's when it happened.
Despite the record-breaking fluffiness of the Leftover Pancake, my heart audibly broke, screeching like nails on a chalkboard. It started singing Alanis Morisette and it put on heavy black eye liner, and it cried into it's pillow and went to the gym just to run through the tears. IT BROKE.
Because RAIN! RAIN, and AUTUMN, and WIND and BRICK STREETS and COLD GUSTS you have ABANDONED ME! I have been deserted in a desert of desertion, with the cruel oppressive sun and air so I dry I wake up with night nose bleeds. I began to think about the last time I was truly, genuinely, in the midst of a crisp Ohio autumn day and it occurs to me that it was THREE YEARS AGO. What a criminally long time!
The dead horse has been beaten, grass confirmed to be greener, and here you are, another blog read and not a smidgen wiser. I'm sorry, but then again I didn't click the link for you.
Come to me, autumn. Come, pumpkin spice latte and gray days. Come make me sad for no reason. But a delicious sad that gives birth to an epically self-indulgent journal entry. I am waiting for you!