i'm afraid my journal has become a place where i post every afternoon that i didn't really do anything the night before. is that lame? is it silly to keep a journal when the events in one's life are mostly minutiae and anecdotal? or is that the very reason people keep journals: to catalogue the minutiae and anecdotal occurrences?

allow me to offer an example. last night, i came home, determined to finish these damn glen burnie sidebars. instead, i tooled around on the computer for about 30 minutes, decided to shut my eyes for a little bit, woke up an hour-and-a-half later, ate dinner, cleaned missy's cage, caught the last bit of the bachelorette (yes, i know it's wrong to watch that show, and i normally wouldn't, but i wound up seeing a complete episode a few weeks ago, and now i am obsessed with watching at least the end of each episode so i can see when she's going to kick that creepy stalker guy russ to the curb; sadly, russ has now made it into the final three, and even sadder, i must continue to cross my fingers), watched celebrity mole (a show that is far more entertaining and funnier than it has any right to be, as i continue to justify my viewing habits), talked to a few friends on IM, and then went to bed, where i wrote for a bit, then decided to try going to sleep before 1 a.m., but then mostly tossed and turned, the unfortunate result of my accidental evening siesta.

that's pretty much it. and that's kinda grim. or is it? on one hand, i refuse to believe that people i know are out on a weeknight watching strippers fire ping-pong balls from their nether-regions, or sharing raspberry coulis at elaine's with steven spielberg, the queen of england and björk, or digging up the bones of long-extinct dinosaurs in their backyard. on the other hand, i do feel like maybe my life is lacking a bit of adventure, the occasional surprise, a lovely moment of happenstance -- whatever you want to call it. granted, i don't need to having an evening that involves ping-pong balls and/or the queen of england and/or dinosaur bones to be satiated in this department. i just need ... well, i dunno what i need, and perhaps that's the problem. i need to get off my ass and do something. but before i can do something, i need to get off my ass and figure out what something to do. it's not much of a challenge, then, is it? actually, this reminds me of something autumn said to me once when we were whining about writing an AMST paper on civil rights or mccarthyism or the price of big macs in england for dr. mcdermott: "this isn't hard, it's us making it hard for ourselves. we just have to do it is all." in one sentence, she encapsulated up my entire life so far.

so maybe i should have a contest: "out-pathetic my last-wednesday-night doldrums." the winner gets to make me feel better about myself, and that, my friends, is a glorious prize indeed. or maybe i should get off my ass and ... you know the rest.

i think i'm one of those people who just lets life happen to them. and i think it's time i started happening to life.