May I just say that the continuing title to this post is so very apropos? (OK, maybe not in total words, but check out the depth of the commentary and maybe you'll see what I mean). I neglected to write down parts of what I thought I might say - and while my memory can be pretty good, it is always, I mean always a good idea to write your thoughts down. What may have sounded so great in your mind early on will read or sound like utter crap when you try and reconstruct it later on if you don't get a chance to jot least some of the core thoughts down.
Some of you may remember Steve Allen, the singer, songwriter, comedian, thinker, you name it, he could do it. Well, Allen always carried with him a little black notebook so that when he had a spark of an idea, he didn't want to lose it. It is such sage advice. It's amazing to me how when I jot just that little spark - nothing else - just that little spark, how it so easily blossoms into a much larger and more well rounded thought later on. It really is the proverbial seed.
Now, I hope I didn't alarm anyone too much with my recent hyperbole in regards to me thinking there's something wrong with me. While I readily admit to being a bit unconventional, I don't really think there is anything wrong with me. At the same time my brain is swimming in slush - in fact that is sort of why I decided to go ahead and write this two-part entry. I figure a semi-creative exercise such as this my actually help congeal all that is swirling up top.
You see, as I began to write this, I was literally in the bed, snugly under the covers thinking about a multiplicity of things at once such as what to wear the next day, as well as how I could possibly I explain Kenneth Burke's guilt-redemption cycle to my class. I also recognize I have a really bad habit of putting off the inevitable until the very last possible moment and it sometimes gets me into trouble. So in a sense there is something wrong with me when I refuse to take care of business in the way I know I should, yet refuse to do. (Imagine if this site was my occupation I would be in serious trouble.)
In some ways, I think I have become to cocky into believing that I have an "even Steven" complex. In other words, I have this internal expectation that things will always even out for me. Ironically, I do believe it is true, yet at some point I would have to think that it will catch up to me and I really will be, as the cliche says, holding the short end. Yet my life experience always seems to hold the opposite.
Consider this - last week I attended Alumni Weekend at Oakwood College, an HBCU (historically Black college/university) in Huntsville, Alabama. While I was never a student at Oakwood, I have a number of relatives and friends who were so I still had a wonderful time regardless. However, I was truly afraid I might not make it. My flight from LAX was scheduled to leave at 6 AM on April 6, which also happened to be Good Friday. Although I had packed the night before, I stayed in the bed too long as I tried to catch a few extra minute's sleep and subsequently dilly-dallied around the house mulling over last minute details. Sure enough, the extra time spent at home cost me precious minutes, I missed my flight. It was the first time something like that had happened to me and I was so scared the airline was going to charge me extra money to take a different flight - especially since every flight was full. But here's where it gets interesting as I ended up being scheduled on a direct flight (originally I was to have flown to Chicago first before catching a connecting flight). While I had to wait a few hours for the new flight, I somehow felt things evened out for me.
I have one more "even Steven" moment. Do you recall my post of a few weeks ago where I whining about losing a measly eight dollars at the Gelson's market in Century City. Well, within 48 hours of me publishing that post, I found a pair of shorts of I had been looking for for more than a year. So not only was I excited to find this pair, but when I reached into the pocket, I found five dollars. Once again I felt as if things had evened out because while I was technically short of what I had lost, the found pair of shorts more than equalled the additional extra three bucks.
So what do you think? Was that another "even Steven" moment or am I just somehow spinning an otherwise shitty moment into something positive? Is it as my mother would say "all things happen for a reason?" or is there some kind of unexplained magic? Like so much else in life, it is yet another mystery. And while I would like to think that I have some special dispensation from supernatural forces, I know better. On the same token, it's still nice to believe that you've got a little somethin' extra on your side.
Well, I gotta scoot.