You think you see a Theme?

Currently I'm watching Charmed. I haven't seen this show steadily since poor Shannon Doherty expelled herself from the show- And given how silly the show is now, she should be very glad. I think this was the season finale. The sexy actor who played that egyptian guy in the mummy just got vanquished... mmm. Along the same lines I just watched the season finale of Veronica Mars and that's a tasty show too. It is a fair assumption that 1) I watch entirely too much tv. 2) That I really like it and am looking forward to the fall tv lineup and have them written in my calendar. 3) I'm embracing the 80's latch key kid stereotype.

But I do manage to leave the house for extended periods of time and not think about tv at all. For instance I met a friend I hadn't seen in a long time at the beach on friday. Down in Newport- good sand, good waves, locals vibe and yes, surfers. Of course due to my insulation I'm able to stand colder waters- so this late season foray into the Pacific didn't make me numb, although my shoulders were slightly chilled. The pacific is cruel, quite frankly, mainly because there are living things in it I can't see. I don't mean to bring up a movie but you know, Jaws and that movie Piranaha (from the 80's) did pretty much ruin me forever from the deepend of swimming pools and yes, the dark corriders of coastal waters. I'm not one to capitulate to phobias usually- for instance I have a fear of confined spaces, but I suck it up it in elevators and appear normal opposed to some freak who is figuring out how to use the escape hatch and how long my bottle of water will last. (which i am) I do have a breaking point. I acknowledge my weakness but I don't like to make choices that reinforce negative patterns- ie. stopping me from stuff I want to do- Like swimming in the Pacific. You know that's when a phobia is a phobia and you've gone too far. Nevertheless if not distracted and given a moments breath, the thought of being nailed by a shark and dragged to my death occurs to me. Cheery. I only picture the shark charging me. The mental images, thankfully go no further than that- and quite consciously I won't let them. My mental dialogue goes something like, "fucking get over it." and "if you're meant to die from a shark attack you're going to die from a shark attack."

"Fucking, get over it!"

But with every other dive the thought occurs to me again and I don't give into it again. It somewhat taints the experience but I feel successful for having not given into my irrational fears. As shark attacks are rare- given statistical evidence of how often people die from other things. I'd prefer to be raptured given a choice, (but that's sort of like praying for snow or an earthquake on test day- 6th grade) then perhaps old age, but an exotic- non painful death wouldn't be bad either. Shark attacks, fires... not up there on the list. But I digress. I managed to have fun, somersault in the waves, hit my head on the sand mid revolution (watch the gash!) and contemplate how beautiful the sky's reflection is on the surface of the water. How can the ocean not be blue? It reminds me of when I was in Alaska having an idyllic moment- bald eagle soaring overhead, calm gentle waves laping the shore of the lake- which was crystal clear. Ribbons of grass ungulating in the depths. And the sun perpetually setting in beautiful streaks of pink purple and orange. All I could think of as I floated in this majestic place was what if some sort of lake monster sucked me under, not unlike "the blob" or something from "Tales from the Crypt"... and as I struggled toward the shore, just as I reached it- panting for breath, I was dragged to my death.

You'd think there was a theme- every place I'm in I can relate to the context of fear in horror movies, suspense thrillers, action adventure movies like the "Towering Inferno" tap into- And yet I consider myself a person who doesn't live in fear. Perhaps it's because I rationalize a lot of it or ponder how many people really explore the root of their fears and I think in doing that I gain precious perspective... I also, seeing the theme- wonder if it was Tv that did this to me- sort of emphasizing and pumping in fear like a drug and part of that is true. Although the confined spaces I will patently blame on 1) being cramped in the womb and 2) being the underpinning of one too many dog piles as a kid. Ignorance is bliss and sometimes knowledge is too powerful to have at your fingertips all the time- just look at the problems that occur being able to distinguish btw good and evil- let alone just having the knowledge of evil. Think how strong the observant person has to be, to know what we know and not want to kill ourselves. I don't mean to be dark but realistically being controlled by fear puts you in a very very dark place- and having no balance to that, that transcends the horror of life, can give you a skewed perspective bcs if you don't- you might end up in the heart of darkness, whispering "the horror, the horror". Joseph Conrad got that and he didn't have Tv, (even if I saw Apocalypse Now and can only picture Marlon Brando saying, "exterminate them all"). Because despite the fear of sharks and riptides I go in the water anyway and I have an awesome time. Despite the idea of plummeting to death I get on the roller coaster anyway- you don't want the devil to win do you?

You've gotta live.

So after Newport we went to Mimi's Cafe and just to illlustrate what I'm talking about we were sitting in a section entirely about New Orleans- all I could think about was Mardi Gras and the aftermath of the hurricane. How is that for juxtaposition of the human experience. The clam chowder was good but the crabcakes were just okay.

On the way home I fit in a workout bcs I gotta make this membership worth it- All I had I was my skirt and my gym shoes. I had already found a parking space, walked half a block through a parking garage, gone up 4 flights in the elevator and was in the bowels of the gym. How could I let my skirt wearing, lack of short wearing self be defeated- improvise. The tanktop I had that day, besides the shirt I was wearing, was most like the workout shorts I normally wear. Too be candid, which belies my name, I must confess I have a chaffing problem. And I always have. Girls with thighs will always have this problem. Oprah has this problem. I don't get it. It seems to be a horribly cruel joke and that's why the invention of spadex shorts was a godsend. Originally I had no intention of telling you this but i jimmied my tanktop into shorts by doing some very clever wrapping, chaffing crisis averted, and simply decided that I was going to feel like an idiot wearing a skirt on a treadmill- but at least I wasn't as bad as a) the makeup wearing ladies- hell on the pores people! don't do it. b) the girls who keep checking out their asses in mirror c) the women who wear heavy jewerly and tight fitting designer outfits- the sweat alone on all that jewelry would deter me, wouldn't it you? But I was always the sort of girl who had that odd look on their face and a slight qurik to their step- for whatever reason- whether because of the jimmied shorts or the thought of an oncoming train, and laughing because of both.