Paul Jenkins, �Daredevil/Spider-man�
As odd as it seems (and indeed, feels), lately I�ve had time to do things like sleep, goof off, and relax. My application to get properly admitted into the Graduate department at the University of Hawaii was completed this afternoon, so in three more months I can kiss all of that goodbye. In the meantime, I�ve been trying to enjoy it.
The problem with that is that working five nights in a nightclub has totally rearranged my sleeping schedule. I show up at the club around eight in the evening, and come closing time at 2 a.m., I�m near exhausted. But what seems to happen to me is that right about 3 a.m., the time where I�m finally heading home, my body simply gives up.
�Fine,� it says, �you wanna stay up, we�ll stay up.�
�No, no,� I tell my body, �we�re done, we can go to sleep now.�
�Oh, no. We were ready to go to sleep three hours ago, but noooooo. You wanted to stay awake and work. So we�re awake. Let�s go party!�
�We can�t party,� I try to reason. �Everything has closed down. There�s nothing to do.�
�What, you call that big bottle of whiskey next to your computer nothing? C�mon, wild man, you love the night life, and we gots to boogie.�
�It�s not night anymore,dumbass, it�s three o�clock in the morning. And look at that nice bed! We�ll boogie tomorrow.�
My body is non-responsive to reason lately. I think it�s hard to make oneself go directly from work and have that the last thing you do. It�s like you�ve survived the workday and it�s time to do something for yourself. Of course, since everybody else has long gone to sleep, I of late, have had nothing but reruns of adult swim, video games, and occasionally this journal to bide my free time. And I don�t know if this happens to other people but when my body finally gives up on trying to make me go to sleep, it does so with a vengeance. I�ve seen the sun rise more times in the last four months than I had in my entire lifetime previously.
When I�m finally able to make my carcass listen to reason to go to sleep, I�ll do so for so long that by the time I wake up, it�s close to when I need to get ready to go to work again. In the meantime, I�ve noticed that adult swim has far too many reruns, and the games I have get a little too mind-numbingly repetitive at five in the morning.
I figured out that last little tidbit one early morn when my shoulder suddenly became wet for no discernable reason. The shock of the sensation snapped me out of my half-awake stupor, especially since the moistness concentrated around the area where I broke my collarbone last year. I thought my bones had burst though my skin.
It took longer than it should have but I eventually discovered my shoulder was wet because of the trail of drool from my lower lip.
I decided I needed to mix up my general existence. The problem was, after those first few months where I was getting no time to relax, there was a part of me that did simply want to be really lazy. Yeah, I�m in Hawaii. Yeah, there are beautiful beaches and scenic hikes all around me. But you know what? They�ll be here tomorrow as well. I decided I�ve earned a bit of lethargy.
And what better way to promote lethargy than with Netflix?
Oh, a blog about Netflix, I can hear you saying. There�s an untapped comedy bonanza!
Hey, fuck you. I told you, I�ve earned the right to be lazy.
I decided to sign up for the flat fee rate, figuring I could pour through some of the HBO specials like Angels in America, or defunct shows I never got the chance to see that I wanted to, like Freaks and Geeks. I signed up for both, putting them at the beginning of my queue.
Which was all fine, but I was annoyed that Netflix kept suggesting other things I might want to check out, like some sort of multimedia pusher. Not that I mind recommendations, it�s just that what Netflix suggested was so bad. I mean, I have a good friend who went to the amusement park to get filmed as an extra for Beverly Hills Cop III and I still didn�t watch it, so why the hell would I see it now?
�Hey,� Netflix shot back (obviously, I�ve been having a lot of conversations with things that normally don�t talk back. I�m a lonely man.) �If you don�t like these, just fill out a few ratings, and we�ll tailor the suggestions.�
I did so, filling out a quick survey. They decided that based on my answers, I only like black and white French existentialist films involving cabbages. Obviously, Netflix had taken my high ratings of Brazil, City of Lost Children and Man Bites Dog too much to heart, and I tried to compensate by manually adding in retarded movies that I love, things like Airplane!, Repo Man, Strange Brew and Mystery Science Theater 3000.
And Netflix again suggested Beverly Hills Cop III.
I started plowing though their recommendation list, trying to give honest answers, skipping ones that I had seen but had hazy memories, either because of time passed, or hazy memories.
Hours passed. The sun rose again.
Finally, when Netflix suggested The Grateful Dead Movie I decided we weren�t on speaking terms anymore. Then I looked at the number of films I had rated.
Four hundred and ninety four. And that was just out of movies that I remembered well enough to state some sort of preference.
It�s now four o�clock in the morning as I write this. The sun will be up in three hours. But I�m going outside tomorrow.
In the meantime, speaking of movies, I came across a hat that finally gives me that Miller�s Crossing look I always loved and envied.
Nothing more foolish than a man chasing his hat.
And wow, do I look tired. That's why I can't be bothered with resizing this image.
