One Rainy Wish

If the constant rain, and higher sales tax wasn’t enough to convince you that yes, evil had conquered good, then the latest news from the FCC should do it. If watching television wasn’t painful enough already, now we can look forward to at least a dozen more versions of The Bachelor, each one a teensy bit more nauseating than the one before. Maybe there will be a magazine devoted to all the goings on of the former reality show stars. Kind of like a college reunion, except of course that it would only go one way. So that when the ridiculous crying brunette’s living with her parents again, you can snicker openly, from your parents’ couch.

Anyway, speaking of reunions, I had a semi five year college reunion on Saturday. I say semi because we didn’t actually make it to any of the reunion events, only ate and drank within a mile radius at several Upper West Side Bars. A mile radius is close enough for me, however. Five years is barely enough to justify a reunion, so it was just hanging out with the kids I see here and there in the city anyway. Note to self: Next time don’t go to school with so many freakin overachievers. Lined up around the circular table were four different graduate degrees (or pending degrees). One year from an MD, 2 years from a PhD, 6 months from an MBA, and a masters. And then there was me: Uhh – taking a class at The New School this summer. Might as well have been reading for beginners.

It laughed to myself when everyone agreed how awful it would be to sit at a desk all day. After a second or two of agreeing nods I chimed in about how, well hey, I sit at a desk all day. There’s a lot of Zen to be found within the 4 ft walls of cube. A lot more than running around saving people’s lives all day anyway. And who wants graduate degrees, and engagement rings, and emotional balance anyway. Not me. Success? Pooh. Achievement? Forget it. The pain of desperation is really where it’s at. Down in the pits of self-loathing and disappointment is where the real fun is. Ask anyone.

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