So it's been awhile since I've last posted here. What have I been doing? Well, I suppose what most people do during the holiday season: eat a ton of food, spend more money than usual, and have great times with friends and family. Now that it's close to the end of January 2007, I'm beginning to readjust to my "normal" life: scrapping ice off my car windows, gathering documents needed to do my taxes, and possibly trying to walk more on the treadmill.
But what is "normal" anyway? Patsy Clairmont wrote a book titled Normal is just a setting on a dryer, and I am beginning to agree. Does the fact that I watched the Golden Globe Awards and looked up the Academy Award Nominations on the Internet make me "normal"? Or, does it just make me a consumer of the widely advertised Hollywood culture? Is the fact that I haven't watched 24 or Gray's Anatomy a reason for concern or it is just evidence that I need to be committed to an asylum? Come on. Me missing Jack Bauer's fight against terror and Dr. McDreamy's beautiful hair. You better pull out the straight jacket now.
Frankly, I don't know what's "normal." There was a time in my life where I tried to be what I conceived to be as normal. You know, find out what TV shows or Super Bowl commercials people might be talking about the water cooler at work, and see the latest blockbuster movie that all the critics are raving about. But, then I realized that I don't have time to do all that. I mean I could devote my life to doing or finding out what I conceive to be "normal," but then that would not really be living. And, the movies, TV shows, songs, and books that I tried to learn so much about would eventually become obsolete to be replaced by more and then I would really really need to be sent to the nut house because I would be suffering a severe case of information overload. Not to mention depression because all the information in my head would consist of the sugary sweet variety. I mean I'm all over occasionally tasting brain candy. Sometimes it hurts too much to think after dealing with all the manic drivers and sinus headaches in life.
But, sometimes it's nice to fill the brain with something slightly more substantial. That's why I've lately found Donald Miller's books Blue Like Jazz and Through Painted Deserts so enjoyable to read. But, who knows I might be back to watching American Idol come Tuesday.
