Don't forgive me

I shall stop apologizing for my inconsistency in blogging, because I'm sure everyone who will ever read this will forgive me right a way with a warm smile. Or perhaps, not anymore. That sort of thing used to happen to me a lot, when I was a boy. If I were to make the mistake of putting the fork on the right side of the plate, instead of the left, or be imperfect in my pronunciation of the word "whimsical," everyone was quick to forgive me of those falibilities back then. It doesn't seem so anymore. The world doesn't have the warm, forgiving smile of his, always shining down on me like the sun. These days it is more of a reproachful scowl, angry with me for not learning to master life earlier, astonished at me for my impertinence towards life, and amused at how ignorant my brain still is.

And there is the world: Angry, astonished, and unrightfully (I think) amused.

And there am I: imperfectible, ignorant, and, in short, Isaac.

Despite these witty alliterations, I think I have a point to make with these words, but I forget what it was. Ah  yes. It is this.
The world doesn't seem so quick to forgive me anymore-- and I feel like the world's forgiveness is something I really and truly want, but I'm not sure why.

I have a play Wednesday and Thursday (Dress Rehearsal tomorrow). I am Frank Churchill, a character who very much resembles me, in most lights. He is dashing and gallant and very much handsome (using the latter feature to his maximum benefit)-- features I find myself to be almost identical. No, really.

He also wants to go to Switzerland.

Yet, in some ways I find myself the complete opposite. Frank Churchill is a lucky man. Everyone forgives him of every wrong he ever commits against them. He ends up getting exactly what he wants-- a most fortunate man.

Life is a lovely, lopsided piece of literature.

If salvation was based on works alone, I would be utterly screwed to damnation.

Twenty-dollar Bill = Beautiful Woman

A friend once told me, "Finding a wife, to me at least, is like finding a twenty-dollar bill. If you're walking along and you see it on the ground, you're ecstatic and feel so fortunate to have found it. But, you know, if you don't find one on the ground, you don't despair. You're not expecting it, so there's nothing to be sad about. You just keep going on with your life, minus twenty dollars, but you feel no loss at all."

I'm terribly terrible at remembering people's exact words, but I think this is more or less the big chunk of it.

At first, I found these words very... what's the word... unromantic? Comparing the love of your life to a twenty-dollar bill is a little demeaning, if I am using the term correctly. I think finding a one hundred dollar bill might be a bit better, or perhaps a nice watch.

But looking back on those sentences now, I feel like there is some wisdom inside them. I think that there is some dignity in going through life without expecting a wedding ring to be on your finger and a cheery little wife by your side. If all that happens, then great. But to not expect it, that is something special, even noble. And I think that, in my case, this is a safe way to live.

I honestly don't feel like I could be a good boyfriend, let alone husband. I have spent too long embracing immaturity. I feel like I would end up being the grumpy old man on the couch that can never remember his wedding anniversary and the only question that I ask my wife is, "Is dinner ready yet?"
I feel like I need to get more in touch with myself and more in touch with God and find out what love is.

I have a line in a play called Emma. "How many a man has committed himself after such a short acquaintance and rued it the rest of his life." I feel like if I commit myself to somebody within the next eight to ten years, I shall rue it the rest of my life, just like Frank Churchill says. And I believe that if I go through those eight to ten years expecting to find a twenty-dollar bill on the ground, things won't end up so well for me. I believe finding a wife will be so much more meaningful and beautiful if I set out in life with the purpose of not looking for her. Perhaps then I might be a bit less grumpy and self-centered and be a bit more loving and husband-like.

Until that day, I shall live my life.

Somebody, Somewhere Video Blog 2

You can find Number One On a previous post.