Supposedly nice, soothing things that have the precise opposite affect on normal people. That is to say people like me.
I do try to stay positive in my musings. And I am here as well! Positive that I just can’t see the point of…
You might as well put on workout clothes and go sit on your couch. You’ll be less antsy, burn as many calories, and no one will tell you to center yourself on your practice. You can center yourself on an episode of Gilmore Girls instead. I wish I could Yog. But unfortunately, I have an attention span.
He’s so folksy and down-homesy and aw shucksy that I immediately need to stab myself with an aw forksy just to feel something again.
There is a speed that people that listen to reggae vibrate at. And then there’s me. If it were a 33 and you could spin it at the speed of a 45? Then maybe. Otherwise move it along, mon.
Fun Ship Freddy. They forgot quotation marks in there somewheres.
Zen desktop rock garden things
Right. So a box of dirt clutter on your desk is supposed to be relaxing? Dirt and clutter are the foremost enemies of relaxation, if I know my chores.
Whistling a happy tune
Whistling is the sound the devil makes when the wind blows through him. It’s either that, or the sound that will make me whip around immediately to find what hole it’s blowing out of and stuff something in it.
The best part of an exciting event is the anticipation leading up to it. Surprise someone, and you’re robbing them of 98% of the point. Plus also, what if you’re not DRESSED? And then of course you have to do the dog-and-pony “Oh! I’m so surprised!” show. Nah.
All apologies to my people, but so you make a mug of something hot that has no real properties of wakefulness nor winefulness, so you can sit still and stare at it until it is cool enough to drink at which point you realize, tea tastes dumb.
Yes, I will have to say that this list making inspired a rereading of “Shipping Out,” (PDF warno) David Foster Wallace’s piece on luxury cruising from Harper’s, January 1996, and that was an actual nice thing.
It’s a little unfair to add cruises to the list as I’ve never actually done it, but I feel as though this research needs no repetition.
“They’re meant to represent the Calvinist triumph of capital and industry over the primal decaying action of the sea.”
I like that primal decay. It’s the best part of a beach town. Weathered, bleached shutters and sleepy scuffed restaurants.
And there it is, the real kicker in footnote 6, page 36 (page 4 in the PDF):
“Constant references to ‘friends’ in the brochure’s text; part of this promise of escape from dread is that no cruiser is ever alone.”
Screaming on the inside. I feel claustrophobic-forced small talk and I am solidly on shore. No. Can’t. No.
But I will totally wave my hanky at you, should you want to go. I’ll even make you a playlist of Prairie Home Companion.