Is fate inevitable?

The answer to that question would seem to be yes, until we prove otherwise. Physicists everywhere are constantly adopting theories that attempt to confirm randomness or adopt an infinite number of universes, but ultimately until we find a way to access these alternate realities we are tied to the existence that we currently sense. The beauty of fate is that its hindsight is 20/20; we can never know if any other option truly existed, perhaps we were tied to our eventual decision ever since the moment of the big bang.

Why am I addressing this question? Where is all this going? Well, to start, the idea for this blog came to me while I was watching the season finale to Lost, which I hope will get its own short blog (I was also asked why the season finale of DH didn't warrant the blog that Grey's Anatomy did, but I guess that was because I wasn't completely outraged by all the events that occurred, and didn't see much of a need to write anything about it - the show is what it is: a funny soap opera on in prime but only once a week). When Desmond goes to turn the key in the secret release for the electromagnetic discharge (if you don't watch Lost ignore that random statement) he turns to Locke and says that he doesn't believe in fate, but that he knows that each of them saved each other's lives due to random past events. This statement instantly made me wonder what could be a better example of actually believing in fate, but more importantly it made me think of past events in the lives of those close to me that have in one way or another affected the entire futures of those around them. This brings me to a story that my mom once told me that seemingly meant little to her, as she's led a rather mysteriously and incredible life I'm finding out all the time, but this story has come back to my mind many times since. Let me start at the beginning, but I mean way back in the beginning.

My mom grew up in Monroe, MI as the classic All-American catholic school girl. She attended catholic school from her first day of kindergarden all the way until her high school graduation. She achieved all A's throughout school and had big plans for the future. Her passion in life was art, and I bet that had she had her way she would have attended an art school out there somewhere. Unfortunately, when my mom was growing up in the kind of family she was there were only so many respectable positions (teacher, nurse, secretarial work, etc) that a woman could hope to go into without upsetting the delicate balance of things.

My mom felt limited by her parents' influence, and she eventually chose nursing for a career. Again, she attended a catholic nursing school and then worked for a catholic hospital. The fact that catholicism was so central to her life came into play when she met my father, whose father (my late Grandfather Ludlow, the cause of my unusual middle name) was a born again Christian and completely opposed to all things catholic. He refused to attend the wedding or continue employing my father at what is now his propane company if their wedding was a catholic ceremony, and my mom hated my grandfather for this forever.

After 27 years of marriage, most of which were good and devoid of argument or conflict, my mom surprisingly left my father for many strange reasons I won't divulge in this blog, but the one overwhelming issue that she has relayed to me was that my grandfather tried to have too much input into my parents' major life decisions, and my mom had always resented that my father wouldn't take her side in such affairs. To be quite honest my mom couldn't have been more reasonable in the divorce proceedings, as she chose to not take away half of my dad's company, but she made out quite well in terms of alomony and such.

Once my mom had moved out she decided that she needed some useless job to pass the time, and having quit nursing when my brother and I were very young to become a stay at home mom, she chose a job as a waitress at a restaurant (she now tells me that her nursing specialty can make as much as $36 an hour, but she doesn't think she could handle the commute anywhere). She had waitressed long long ago to make ends meet during her college years, and her upbeat friendly personality allowed her to excel to the position of manager in no time.

One day while she was back in the kitchen instructing the cooks on some matter she had a panicked waitress come to her to tell her that there was a baby in the dining area choking so badly that it had begun to turn blue. She rushed out to the young child's aid and used her nursing training from years ago to peform the proper infant heimlich manuever, and the baby spit up whatever had been bothering it and he lived. Everybody else in the place had frozen and given up, but my mom saved the baby's life. That child owes the entire rest of its existence to my mom. Potential children, grandchildren - all because he made it through that one day.

The point of all this is that no matter how hard anything that my mom had endured had been on her, no matter how many decisions she felt were out of her control, no matter how stressful my parents' divorce was for our family, that baby would have likely died if not for all those events in our lives that led to that moment.

This brings me back to my own life. I feel like a lot of terrible things have happened to me that I certainly don't deserve, but I don't get angry about it. I can't change the past. I understand my mistakes and I have tried to learn from them. Sometimes I step forward, sometimes I get caught up and find myself stumbling back, but I feel as though I've moved forward. Life is a process.

It's true that at times I wonder why I'm stuck where I am and I feel a deep sense of shame. Sometimes though, when I look deeper, I realize that without the past couple years I would have missed out on so much that I didn't learn in college, and failed to meet so many unique people that I otherwise would have never known. The struggle that I have forced myself into, both in my mind and often financially, has prepared me for the real world in ways that I never could have imagined growing up in Lyons, OH. Some could call me a failure, but I don't like to feel that way because I know that despite my flaws I lead an honest and honorable life and I make an impact on the lives of others. My time will come, it's as inevitable as the fate I spoke of earlier. Maybe it's wishful thinking to believe that all of this has happened for a reason, but in my opinion there is never anything wrong with a little bit of hope. There is always time for change, and there is always a little room for a flash of greatness, no matter how brief.

Quick Response

For anybody who reads the comments to my Grey's Anatomy post and wonders what the fuck that's all about, let me explain. Jeff is my brother, and I will admit without embarassment that we used to routinely watch some Disney Channel programming, especially Even Stevens and all of Disney's original movies. One such movie was called "Wish Upon a Star," and it used the classic body switching plot line. The whole tie in to Grey's Anatomy is that Katherine Heigl, Izzy from the show, played one of two sisters in the movie that switches bodies with each other when they wish on the same star that they could be in the other's position, hence my brother saying that it wasn't Izzy who cut the lines, but instead her sister in her body. Make sense now?

Anyway, I'm certainly not going to take the time right now to write another full blog because I think I have more exciting things I could potentially be doing. What I will do instead is give a little preview list of what to expect in some future blogs if I ever get around to writing them. Firstly, I've seen several movies lately, including the mainstream (Inside Man, Mission Impossible 3) and the completely obscure (Art School Confidential, Me, You, and Everyone we Know). Without a doubt the most interesting of all of them was Me, You, and Everyone we Know. Maybe one of the most original movies (that didn't totally suck) that I've seen in years. Even if you don't like much of the movie I guarantee that there will be a few parts that will surprise and entertain you. I'll get to that later. Also, season finales to Lost and Desperate Housewives are coming up - I'll keep you all posted. Ok, enough for now, I gotta get going. Cya all later.

Grey's Anatomy Finale - a reaction

So I just finished watching the second season finale to Grey's Anatomy, and while many things happened that I had been praying for not only throughout the course of that singular episode, but for the past 5-6 episodes, I was a little disappointed. Warning - spoiler alert to those who taped it.

First and foremost, thank God that fucking asshole Denny finally died. He was putting the name of my favorite 24-hour breakfast restaurant to shame. I hate that guy. No, it wasn't that I was jealous or anything, he was just a fucking drag to the show. The whole relationship with Izzy was so fucking ridiculous and unrealistic I've had to hold back puke from inside my mouth on many occasions. Seriously. I would have to brush my teeth to savemy breath after the cheesy lines he dropped successful on that dumb bimbo. The whole scene where his heart sits there without beating then mysteriously started made me want to turn off the show. Then his proposing and getting a yes from his doctor, don't get me started on that.

Secondly, the whole we're protecting our family shit, not cool. When people's lives are at stake, you don't fuck around with that shit. There was no reason for any of them to support her. She had basically fucked them all over and potentially dragged their careers down with her own, and they pull that shit? You may ask me what about loyalty and friends etc. etc. that I've been preaching about, but this is different; what about loyalty to your patients and people's lives? Some other guy with kids who doesn't ask his doctor to marry him lost out on that heart and for what, for Izzy to lay on a corpse later in the episode? Also, while on this topic, the other aspect of the show that made me happy was seeing Izzy leave the show. Yeah, she's pretty hot and all, but for realism purposes I'll gladly lose any character dumb enough and irresponsible enough to pull the total bullshit that she did. She deserves to be kicked out. I hope they don't manage to work her back in next season, what she did was without a question automatic loss of her chance to ever practice medice again in my book. Wow, the more I think about it the more frustrating the stupidity of the whole episode was. I likely won't even be able to remember half the stuff I'm pissed about.

Let's move on then to the one detail of the episode that was most astounding from a realism point of view because real people do make poor decisions just like the ones I mentioned before: how could they have had all these GSW victims from the episode before not to mention their best surgeon getting shot and manage to all walk around and socialize the entire episode while they seemed so busy earlier? Think about it, at a few points in the show the Nazi, Chief, and She-Shepard are all chilling thinking of Chief's niece, the one part where the Shepards argue the entire hospital staff is standing around in one area, the entire staff of surgical interns crams into one room to save Fuckface (Denny), and worse of all the hospital somehow manages to hold a prom in which you can see just about every character at one time not attending to any patients. Making this all the more absurd is the fact that you easily forget that the shooting of Burke/Denny drama is right in the middle of them treating 13 GSWs from only like an hour before...who sutured them up? Who was watching over them? Nurses? It's completely as Bush would say nonsensical.

Alright, now on the drama aspects of the show not necessarily relating to medical shit: Fuck McDreamy and his fucking Grey on the hospital bed. It's less the fact that he sucks and more the fact that the vet seems like the most normal nice cool guy to ever appear on the show and Meredith manages to shit down the collar of his tux. What a dumb cunt. First of all, getting into Vet School is hard! But more on topic, he's a normal respectable guy, and let's face it, despite her outstanding chastising of McDreamy last episode we all must face that Meredith is without a doubt"damaged goods." But like a true good guy the Vet gives her a chance, and she ruins it. Stupid Grey.

Also, if I said that Denny makes me puke earlier, then Cali and her relationship with George gives me leprosy. Did you see her in that dress at the end of the show? She looked like Dick Butkus. She also convinced me that a body double was used in the hand washing scene, as one of her hips was bigger around than the entire waist they showed in that scene. While I'm at it, she looks like a transvestite. She is manly! George looks like a 15 year old and she looks like his latino priest dressed in drag trying to molest him. Sickening. And she's a royal bitch. What a package. I think my arm is falling off right now, Motorcycle Diaries style. Where are you Che?

Am I saying that I won't watch the show next season? Of course not! It's amazingly entertaining. It gives me a way to bridge the age gap with several of my coworkers also, as we all enjoy mocking the show together. I will admit that I had pretty much lost faith in the show mid season, as it seemed that literally every episode featured at least one scene where Meredith either fights with McDreamy or tells her friends how hurt she is that he chose his wife over her. It's like they tried to see how many different ways they could phrase the same conversation without the fans screaming foul.

Alright, I gotta go do something I've never done before - eat at the Fleetwood Diner. I actually have a lot more to say about this and other shows not to mention some movies that I've seen recently, but that will all have to wait. See you all later.

Response to mystery comment

In response to my "mystery" (I'm pretty sure I know who you are, your last line gives away too much) commenter, I don't really disagree with much of anything you said to be perfectly honest. I do have to counter by stating that obviously my rant isn't meant to be taken as gospel; the ideas I mentioned were never intended to relate to how someone should act 100% of the time, nor to my current situation in all cases. I would be a gross hypocrite if I claimed that I never make fun of people for a laugh or used my previous mishaps to peak someone's attention. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I think that true friendship goes much deeper. I certainly have friends that my relationship has never gone further than getting drunk with them, thus I would never dream of complimenting them or putting my life on hold to address their problems. I'm just saying that all real friends reach a point where the other should step up to the plate and lend a supportive hand, and many just can't make that leap.

On the part where it's inferred that I can no longer take getting made fun of, that wasn't anywhere near where I was trying to go with any of this. I have endured far worse treatment than a good ribbing, and it hasn't bothered me yet. All I really meant is that for me personally being friends just doesn't have to be all negative all the time.

In terms of giving appreciation, I was merely trying to relate how being too nice can easily lead to a situation where somebody feels like they have gained control of a situation. When this occurs appreciation can become more like expectation, which is a selfish way to treat a friend. Also, I am in no way expecting people to come up to me and tell me they care, I'm saying as a general rule you can really make someone's day if you let them know what they probably already believe. I take Valentine's Day for example. As much as people want to say that they don't need the reassurance of some gift card holiday, it feels better to be recognized than ignored when the opportunity arrises. Basically, everybody can feel good when something nice is said, and usually everybody but one can when something mean is said. The math isn't difficult.

As far as the part of being a great guy, that wasn't written to infer that I'm secretly in love with the girls that would tell me that like Brian is, but moreso to express the frustration of people who find themselves in such situations all the time. It's like a form of jealousy - some people look at the particular person or thing and want it badly, others feel the pain of why can't that be me? My point was more focused on the latter, how playing it nice and safe often keeps me from going after what I want.

Side note - most things I wrote about could apply to both male and female friends, but obviously many parts of the blog referred to the difficulties in earning anything but "non-naked seeing" friend points from girls.

Anyway, I think anyone that knows me knows that in general I just wish everybody could get along. That may be the best message I can give. I know I can't change the world, nor even a single person. I just hope somebody reads this and thinks to themselves that they have good friends and that it'd be nice to let that be known because I know for a fact that something like that can be the highlight of an entire day or even week.

Alright, that's the end of all my bitching and emotional blogging for all time, hope you all took something from it. Also, very important to note, nobody that reads this should feel like they were being referred to at all, as nothing that inspired me to write this was caused by any ill will towards anyone who has ever revealed that they are a blog reader. Much of this actually came about from talking to my Mom about how to treat people and how I relate that to myself, so rest assured.

Just felt like putting something down

If anyone out there has begun to wonder where all the blogs went, I can tell you quite easily that they have all gone one of two places - 1. To the depths of my memory where nobody will ever know what happened or 2. If you see me on a regular basis, you probably already know exactly what happened to me. There are however a few loyal readers out there who do not see me regularly, therefore cannot hear the ridiculousness of what's been going on in my life, and for that I do apologize. I guess the problem that I've been having lately is that my misadventures are just starting to hit too close to home. I can hardly think of a single topic I want to write about that I wouldn't be too nervous that somebody would end up reading it and have their feelings hurt or be surprised. Also, as mentioned many many times before I've always attempted to keep my blog as free of emotional/personal shit as much as possible. Well, maybe today that'll change just a little itty bit.

Let me just start off by rehashing a blog I wrote way way back at the inception of this thing. One night I went out to Rick's and thought I saw a cute girl giving me the eye as she was getting her ID checked by the bouncer. Sure enough, a few cocktails later this girl actually came up to me and asked me to dance with her. After a few minutes I asked her if I could buy her a drink and she suddenly seemed to get uncomfortable and bailed on me. I ran into her later and asked her what the problem was and she told me that she had just ended a two year relationship and my offer was "too nice" because all she wanted was some jerk of a guy to have a one-night stand with. My extending a simple (and obviously common for a bar) courtesy had ruined my chances from the start. I am beginning to believe that this story set a bad precedent for every moment of my life since that drink offer.

Just as I had completed my sophomore year of college I realized that I had grossly underachieved in school and one day I remember sitting down and calculating what it would take to raise my GPA to a 3.5 before I graduated. I hadn't even come close to anticipating that the number would be 28 consecutive credits of all A's, or pretty much two semesters of flawless work. I normally wouldn't write about this because normally I find that talking about such accomplishments is pompous and unnecessary, but I guess I'm trying to prove a point (also, by means beyond my understanding, it seems that many people that I meet already know this information about me somehow anyway). I don't really remember there being a huge difference in what I did educationally the next couple years, but I just had this feeling inside me that the wager I had made with myself would carry me back to the levels at which I knew I could achieve. Something just felt right. I knew that I was doing something of merit, something to be proud about, and more than anything I felt like I could redeem myself in my own mind, which has always been my biggest critic. I eventually crushed my original goal of 28 credits. I began to feel as though I couldn't be stopped. I didn't get nervous for exams or stress over homework. In the end I had realed off 54 consecutive credits of all A's. For the first time in years I felt vindicated, but there was something else going on in my life that just wouldn't allow me to feel like the old Scott Seaman.

You see, during this whole time in which I had changed my academic fortunes, I had also changed my personal fortunes. For reasons not completely within my grasp, the way in which girls looked at me changed entirely. Unfortunately, this all came with a price. Most of you that read this know a lot about what transpired during this time period. While my adventures were often funny, random, and in some cases seemingly unbelievable, with every exploit I lost a part of who I was and who I truly want to be. Everybody, from the most arrogant prick to the most selfish bitch, typically assumes that they are good people on the inside no matter what. But what makes for a good person? At some point in all this I lost the ability to gauge what had become of me. I had done terrible things. Moreso than singular events, I had found ways to objectify people and manipulate them for whatever purposes I found to be necessary. While I was by no means some kind of monster, I had at times lost my way.

Immediately after I had graduated I had once again made a pact with myself to change my actions in order to regain what I had lost. This time the stakes were even higher though. As Cher puts it so well in the movie Clueless, I needed to "makeover my soul." As anybody could tell you, I have still managed to make some mistakes. Progress has been slow, but very good. I just never expected to pay such a huge price for my decision though. I feel guilty for making selfish decisions. I often feel used when I realize that the help that I've been so willing to offer was not appreciated as I had imagined it would be. I feel down on myself when my kind words for somebody else are never returned. More than anything though, I feel like my choice to be nice was a mistake when I hear that a drink offer ruined my chances...

Basically, the old saying "nice guys finish last" became a popular saying because it's pretty damn true. I feel like the big brother type to every girl I know. I feel as though certain tasks have become expected of me, and in turn they don't mean as much to people anymore. I feel like the main character in the new show What About Brian. Who caught the premiere episode? There's a scene where his best friend's girlfriend (whom Brian has a secret crush on) reminds him of what a great guy he is and why he's destined to meet the perfect girl. I've actually heard such speeches a few times just recently. It's tough to have to hear.

Don't get me wrong though, the whole point of this blog isn't to detract people from wanting to be nice. In fact, I hope the complete opposite. There are many things that stick out in my mind that I wouldn't want to give up. I love the look on a girl's face when I go to drop her off and she appears to want to lean over to give a hug in appreciation, but she realizes that hugging a person in the front seat of a car is an awkward and difficult proposition. I love the way everybody looks around at each other with a smile to seek the same approval they sense when I offer to buy everyone a round of drinks at Scorekeepers. I love when a drunk girl turns to her friend within my hearing range and blatantly states what a nice person I am. I love the confused look I get when complimenting a girl on something that she probably would never expect any guy to notice.

In fact, the more I think about it, the way people interact with each other bothers me more and more. Friendship has somehow become no more than a free pass to insult each other and get laughs at each others' expense. People look to their friends in their times of need, but rarely acknowledge what that means to them. If you've actually made it this far in this ultimate rant of a blog, take this one bit away. If you can overcome the natural fear of putting yourself out in the open, take a chance and tell your friends how much you appreciate them. Tell them how you feel about them, or why you enjoy hanging out with them. Tell them about a quality they have that you admire. These are our friends, why are we always so afraid to express ourselves? I know from the experience of doing such things that getting a positive response in return isn't always so easy, people are just scared. I can only hope that if enough people follow this kind of advice that this type of behavior wouldn't be so unexpected. Or in the very least I hope that I wouldn't lose the chance for sex because I offered $4.50 for a drink at a bar.