The Wee Democracy

steeped in perfection

so i'm sitting in my kitchen last night, or rather in the dining offshoot of it, relaxing and enjoying the first game of the world series. i'm tempted to print a retraction about everything negative i've said about baseball in the past, because i find myself being pretty strongly addicted to this postseason action. sure, the regular season is boring as all hell, except for the rare instance where you're about to catch the end of a really close game, or it looks like someone's gonna beat the yankees. but the postseason...that's some exciting shit.

this is all beside the point. i'm sitting there, and the phone here in the office rings. normally, i don't answer this one, because anyone who really wants to get a hold of me personally can just call my cell phone. but curiosity got the better of me, and i wandered over here to scope out the caller ID.

the name popped up someone whose call i'd least expect on a saturday night, and i picked up. a friend from new orleans, from whom i hadn't heard in quite some time. i had tried to call said person some time ago, when i first got my cell phone and was drunk on the newfound power of frivolous expenses and anytime communication. i left a message or two, but got no response, so i figured, you know, whatever. she can call me if she wants.

so, a mere two months later, bingo bango pick up the phone.

"i've been meaning to call you forever, but i'm always really busy, and i wanted to be able to have a long conversation. but, you know, finally, i said, i'm gonna call josh, even if its only for five minutes."

that was all fine and dandy, but i found it odd that that's what she said, given what i wrote about either yesterday or the day before, about waiting for something to be perfect before you seek to execute some grand scheme.

she said that she'd sat down a few times to write various peoples emails, but rarely gets one out, because it's usually not as long as she'd like.

what is it that causes this disorder? is it like some variation of OCD? is it the same disease that made me stop writing this entry midsentence to go brush my teeth because i felt like i absolutely had to?

if i'm talking to a girl, just friendly like, shootin' the breeze, i'm really cool. confident, clever, funny, easy going. its when i decide that i like them that all hell breaks loose. i'm so determined to play everything perfectly that that usually puts the kibosh on my pleasant demeanor. when i'm gonna call someone important, be it a girl, or someone in authority, likesay, at a potential job, i will actually write down what i'm going to say, because i need a script so that i don't say "uh" a bajillion times.

yeah.