It's been a while since I properly told some stories about my life, hasn't it? I watched a Korean movie the other night and the main character kept a diary. Exact dates with exact memories were kept, and I felt guilty for not doing much of the same for the last few years. Seems like a lot of my memories from my 20s might just start slipping away, and that's no good. So here's what I've been up to today:I caught up with a childhood friend.
Eric (and his little brother Jon) lived across the street from me when I was 4 until I was about 13. These guys were my biggest playmates. Everything I ever did outdoors, I did with them. Bicycling, playing in yards, that kind of thing. And because we were neighbors, they were playmate option #1. Almost every day turned into a combination of biking and Super Nintendo gaming. Once they moved away, we lost touch, but I never forgot them. So it pretty much made my week when Eric found me on Facebook several weeks ago and the catch-up process began. His grandparents, who I also knew very well, are still here in Dallas, so he came down to see them and let me know that he was around. I just got home from the catch-up dinner and coffee, when I learned all about his own business, his extended family's stuff (a bizarrely high proportion of his family is in international business; I could learn from these guys) and what his immediate family's been up to.It made me think: my newer friends don't know my family. Are my older friends (like Eric) closer for knowing my family and for me knowing theirs? Even my closest college buds don't know my mom... but then again that's probably my mom's fault given that I know my buds' parents well enough.I have a sportscar.
I don't say that to brag. I mean that out of all the different kinds of cars out there (sedans, SUVs, roadsters, sportscars, GTs), I picked a sportscar for myself and I'm reaping the consequences of that, for better and for worse.Today was a perfect example. I had to drive from Austin to Dallas and then around town here with Eric. You get exposed to what you supposedly "sacrifice" for a sportscar very quickly on a long trip: comfort. My car is loud (it runs at over 4,000 RPM when cruising at 80mph) and getting stuck in stop-and-go traffic with a six-speed is just plain aggravating. And the suspension isn't exactly made of pillows, either.The day before, I had to leave one buddy behind on a dinner trip because the car seats four, not five. And I dread the day I get a flat tire, because I have no spare and my inflating tire repair goo expired in 2007. I should probably do something about that.But the annoyances were worth it when I was on my way home after dropping Eric off and I decided to hightail it through town with the sunroof open and the new Prodigy album blaring. It's just a joy to drop a couple gears, hit the gas, and effortlessly throw it through a curve at twice the recommended speed. The five minutes of awesome were totally worth the five hours of monotony, and I'll keep the car for as long as that holds true.
Eric (and his little brother Jon) lived across the street from me when I was 4 until I was about 13. These guys were my biggest playmates. Everything I ever did outdoors, I did with them. Bicycling, playing in yards, that kind of thing. And because we were neighbors, they were playmate option #1. Almost every day turned into a combination of biking and Super Nintendo gaming. Once they moved away, we lost touch, but I never forgot them. So it pretty much made my week when Eric found me on Facebook several weeks ago and the catch-up process began. His grandparents, who I also knew very well, are still here in Dallas, so he came down to see them and let me know that he was around. I just got home from the catch-up dinner and coffee, when I learned all about his own business, his extended family's stuff (a bizarrely high proportion of his family is in international business; I could learn from these guys) and what his immediate family's been up to.It made me think: my newer friends don't know my family. Are my older friends (like Eric) closer for knowing my family and for me knowing theirs? Even my closest college buds don't know my mom... but then again that's probably my mom's fault given that I know my buds' parents well enough.I have a sportscar.
I don't say that to brag. I mean that out of all the different kinds of cars out there (sedans, SUVs, roadsters, sportscars, GTs), I picked a sportscar for myself and I'm reaping the consequences of that, for better and for worse.Today was a perfect example. I had to drive from Austin to Dallas and then around town here with Eric. You get exposed to what you supposedly "sacrifice" for a sportscar very quickly on a long trip: comfort. My car is loud (it runs at over 4,000 RPM when cruising at 80mph) and getting stuck in stop-and-go traffic with a six-speed is just plain aggravating. And the suspension isn't exactly made of pillows, either.The day before, I had to leave one buddy behind on a dinner trip because the car seats four, not five. And I dread the day I get a flat tire, because I have no spare and my inflating tire repair goo expired in 2007. I should probably do something about that.But the annoyances were worth it when I was on my way home after dropping Eric off and I decided to hightail it through town with the sunroof open and the new Prodigy album blaring. It's just a joy to drop a couple gears, hit the gas, and effortlessly throw it through a curve at twice the recommended speed. The five minutes of awesome were totally worth the five hours of monotony, and I'll keep the car for as long as that holds true.