ode to the middle
I have been giving a lot of thought to the middle over the past few days. You know, all that stuff that comes after the beginning and before the end. I feel like the middle has a bad rap, or at least is not as highly regarded, while the beginning has all the glory of being something new, something exciting, and the end often means a finish line, closure or victory. Now I know this isn't always the case on all counts (the beginning can be scary/the end sad), but usually when I think of the middle I think child with less attention, uncomfortable seating, average (middle of the road), turning 40, um or my less than flat stomach.
The other day my day actually started not so great, with a piercing headache and the dread of an impending viewing of my house. And the end of my day was pretty rough. But all of the stuff that happened in between padded the bookends and made it all less painfully crushing.
A round of mini-golf came first, and although I lost and it was sickeningly hot, it was still a load of fun. There's just something about giant brightly colored objects/animals and Astroturf to get the juices flowing.
Then it was on to the season finale of Lost. I hung out with probably the nicest couple on the planet, John and Emily, in their adorable house, with their cute as can be cats. When I grow up maybe I can be like them. It was a great finale, aside from the fact that I will most likely have to wait another year to see what happens next (is there really such thing as off the island?). Thank heavens for Battlestar Galactica, my other TV obsession. It will quench my boob tube thirst for a bit longer.
My final stop on my way to the end was to hear a couple of bands play as well DJ sets, hosted by the aptly titled Party Ends. I have a weird thing for masks so this was the night for me, with all members of one band each donning one. They could probably have played pots and pans and I would have still been entertained. It's just that easy sometimes.
The After School Special message is this... next time you have an Oreo, think of that white icing, because after all, the cookie just isn't whole without the best part... the middle. Now what represents the milk you're supposed to dunk it in, I don't know. That's for another post I guess.