the answer?
it's my new years resolution.
well, not supporting an institution that could spawn the fame (however brief) of something as horrific as tay zonday.
what it is is pushing my limits, one week at a time.
you see, instead of one, or one small handful of resolutions that will most certainly fail, or anyway, fail to impress, i've chosen to take on at least one resolution a week, for one entire week at a time.
this way, my year is wide open for numerous resolutions and adventures that i may have never pursued had i been so absorbed by one monumental resolution like quit smoking, or lose weight, or be more spontaneous (i don't need to work on any of those things anyway), or had i made a few silly resolutions that i foolishly attempted to adhere to for a full year.
here's a quick little por ejemplo, just to clear things up: as a declared and tested vegetarian, for one week i required myself to eat meat at every meal. what was great about the timing of this week was that i spent it in newOrleans, and so had access to such unique meatables as catfish, crawfish, alligator, jerk chicken, and andouille in their natural habitat.
and as part of my dichotomous personality, of course my meat week was planned on this week on purpose, because i also refuse to go through life missing key experiences, and to not gorge myself on real newOrlean cuisine would have big a terrible error.
on the other hand, there are action items like this particular week. this week i am subjecting every waking hour of my life to one particularly aurally offensive song (per day) on repeat. this doesn't necessarily push me to grow as a person, or experience life to the fullest, it's just a thing. a thing that someone thought up, and i couldn't think of a good reason not to.
look, despite a relative lack of necessity, mp3 software has this function (single item infinite repeat). i intend to abuse it.
i compiled a song menu from many suggestions, and as the need arises, i select the song of the day based on life's random cues.
day one found me pumping big yellow taxi, by the counting crows, and by the time it just became background music, my entire life felt like an episode of dawson's creek. later in the evening i started having a psychosomatic reaction to this noxious audio fart. i began to feel more and more nauseous each time the song started anew.
day two began with a lack of sleep (to bed by 1230, up at 5AM), and rise and shine to kenny loggins' footloose. why footloose? because i had narrowed it down to footloose and bills, bills, bills, and a coworker suggested without my input, that the song be either footloose or wannabe. so from 5AM to 1130PM that evening, no matter how awkward the situation, i had myself plugged into the rocking sounds of uncle kenny loggins (my own nickname).
and today: tay zonday's chocolate rain. perhaps the worlds most repetitive song (yes, even more so than juvenile's back that ass up).
today's random hints from the universe: i woke to a text message informing me that today, the first day of black history month, is also national dark chocolate appreciation day.
sounds like as good a case as any to subject myself to a projected 200 listenings of, chocolate rain, some stay dry and others feel the pain... chocolate rain, raise your neighborhood insurance rates... chocolate rain...
i would like to point out at this point that one play of this song yields 48 instances of the phrase "chocolate rain", which means that as i write this sentence i have heard those words 5,520 times...
5,521... flipping cars in france the other night... 5,522... cleans the sewers out beneath mumbai... 5,523...
now, as i feel my writing skills failing, and each intelligent word i intend, is being replaced by chocolate rain... angels cry and shake their heads in shame, i think it best to sum up here and close out.
the other weeks that are already in the bag this year included a muslim fast (sunup to sundown), only eating foods based on white ingredients while simultaneously only wearing black clothes, and facing my irrational fear of alien abduction (turns out i was just scared shitless as a child by movies that, as an adult seem corny, and harmless).
weeks to come include only eating blue foods (each color from the standard crayola 8 pack will get a dedicated week of foods, as well as clothing), and taking myself out on a date every day.
but as a tribute to the liquid nature of these weeks, february was to get my blue food week, until i realized that it's black history month, so i've swapped blue foods with black foods (hello beans, licorice, and guinness! unless you're fuzzy zoeller, then black foods means fried chicken and watermelon)
as you can see, as better ideas, or more apropos assignments come my way, i will work them in.
this may warrant it's own blog (though i can clearly barely keep up one), but it will be well linked with this blog, to ease the stress on followers, and those with input.
so calling all suggestions. for one week, use me as a guinea pig, use me for your amusement, use me as inspiration, use me as a human shield...
2 comments:
How about giving fried butter a try?
After 17 years it's good to know I'm still that influential
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