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Tonight I went over to Nate and Maria’s and watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It came out in 2004, but with my track record of seeing about 1.6 movies per year in theaters, it shouldn’t really surprise anyone that I’m just now getting around to it. It’s a romantic comedy starring Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst, Elijah Wood, and some other less famous people. Basically Carrey and Winslet’s characters, Joel and Clementine, fall in love, then out of love, and then they both decide to have the memories of each other erased. 95% of the movie happens during the erasing of Joel’s mind, when he discovers things really weren’t so bad, and he tries desperately to awake during the procedure and stop it before all his memories are gone. I can’t say a whole lot more than that without giving away the twists in the plot, because I want those of you who haven’t seen it to see it. (Be warned it’s rated R because some writer lacked enough vocabulary to avoid multiple F-words.)

I can tell you that I enjoyed two particular things about this movie. For one, it was weird but not in a bad way. It’s one of those flicks that leaves you in a weird mood when you’re done; you can’t help but just sit there and think about it for a few minutes. Even now I’m still considering all the depth and meaning that was in it, or at least trying to decide if there really was depth and meaning in it. To me, a movie that evokes such strong emotion is pure art. You can criticize and dislike it all you want, but the most brilliant cinematography in the world, if devoid of that emotion, is just another movie. Why do we like poetry, painting, and music? Because it evokes emotions. It brings up something unexpected. There is some intangible which smacks us in the heart, and helps us discover a little bit of humanity which we’ve lost in the hustle and hurry of modern life. There is no doubt in my mind God gave us art for these reasons, and I’m thankful for it. (That is not to say that Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is divinely inspired. I’m just saying I liked it.)

Second, I enjoyed the movie because, for once in my life, I figured out the ending of the movie really early on and got to watch almost the whole thing with that knowledge. I’m always jealous of people, and I think it’s mostly women, who get ten minutes into something and already know what the ending is going to be. Props here to my mother, who is most definitely one of those people. But tonight, I had that “OH!” moment early on, and enjoyed every second of the remaining 90 minutes as I watched with delight. And it’s a good twist, I liked it.

In the completely unrelated happening of the week, the futility of my housing search seems to have no end. Today I looked at what originally was a very promising prospect. A basement room in a townhouse, with private bathroom, for $590/month including all utilities. It even had a personal washer/dryer in the closet, and was only about 15 minutes from the church. It sounded like it could be a winner–until I got there. I was met by a pile of building materials in the foyer, and an improvised bedroom to my immediate left. Ahead was the room in question: about 10′ x 10′, and laid out in a way that no furniture would ever comfortably fit in it. I would have about enough room for my bed and one of my bedroom dressers, but not both. My existence in that room would be cramped, and helplessly messy all the time because I’d have all my crap there with no room to put it. A peak through the outside window revealed 12″ tall grass with junk strewn throughout the tiny yard. I thought I was trying to move OUT of West Virginia.
Upstairs fared little better, as I was greeted by primer-painted walls and filthy carpeting. The living floor, which has kitchen and living room, screamed bachelor pad with every ounce of its existence. The most visible features of the whole floor was the huge car stereo in the living room, and the washer/dryer crammed into the kitchen. I ventured upstairs only briefly, before I had seen quite enough to make my decision. On the way out, I noticed the amount of beer bottles in the trash, and was pretty convinced I’d decided correctly. This room may be listed on the church message board, but I have the strange feeling that none of the other tenants actually found it through that avenue.

Earlier I had traded a couple emails with a guy who was in a similar situation, needing an affordable room and wanting to live with Christian housemates. I thought at first there was potential that connection might amount to something, but as quickly as it came, he vanished into internet oblivion. I came to find out he had found what he was looking for. Good for him.

So now I move on again. My latest search of the church message board has produced two new possibilities, and both of them sound somewhat promising as well. One is for a basement apartment being advertised as a huge amount of space. Bedroom, full bath, kitchenette, private entrance, and lots of storage space. It’s near George Mason U, and would be probably 20 minutes from the church. Lots of space probably equals lots of money, but I’ll nonetheless check it out. The second listing interests me. It’s a large townhouse being shared by 5 Christian guys who are looking for a 6th. A decent sized bedroom, but a shared bathroom. The guy made it clear they were looking for a good Christian to fill the room, but also want someone easygoing who knows how to have fun. It’s $595 plus 1/6 utilities, but it’s also in Arlington which means close access to the city and driving against rush hour traffic. They’re having an open house of sorts Saturday, so I’ll be checking it out before work in the afternoon. It definitely sounds interesting.

Some of you may be wondering how I can talk about renting a bedroom for $600/month and thinking it’s a good deal, but trust me, it is. Remember the words “housing boom” in the title? In the last ten years or so, housing has appreciated to double its value. Many of the people who have lived here for 15 years or longer are living in a $300,000 house that they paid $150,000 for. Single bedroom apartments generally start in the $750/month area and go up from there. In a perfect world, I’d be trying desperately to find a house I can afford to start buying. But in the world that is Metro DC, it’s just no possible. Maybe in 8 or 9 months, if I have some friends willing to do it, I’ll buy a place and become a landlord myself.

It’s a crazy life here. I’m not honestly sure I’m entirely up for it. Suddenly the slow, small city, Indiana feel isn’t as bad as it was 6 months ago. But I am determined not to dwell on the past, so I’ll move on. I’ll learn to enjoy living in the city, averaging 12 mph in traffic, and being forced to share a house when I’d rather be buying one. Things are going very well at my job, I’m learning a lot, and I know I’m in the right place.

And I think knowing that makes up for everything else.

Confidence has never really been a strong suit of mine. My mom would immediately claim that comes from her, but regardless of where it comes from or why I lack it, the fact is I’ve lived the majority of my life scared to take a risk, comfortable playing second fiddle or being wingman. Even when I evaluate my role in most of the friendships I’ve had in the past, I’ve always been in a fabulous cast, as the supporting actor. Now I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that role–some people are just born to naturally lead the pack and steal the show. But being wingman doesn’t mean you should be any less capable or confident. You just play that role socially; a role which is vital in any group of friends.

Social comparisons aside, though, there’s something intangible about a man who lives his life with confidence. Some of the greatest icons of recent history have been men who weren’t afraid of themselves. Regardless of how you feel about FDR as a politician, you have to admit it takes some serious balls to lead a nation which has historically devoured weaknesses like, say, the inability to walk because of polio. Jackie Robinson was confident enough in his abilities that he dared to play baseball outside the negro leagues, and he became one of the most revered athletes in history because of it.
In the world I find myself in today, there’s little room for insecurity. If you sell yourself short, you end up standing in the road wondering what happened while the bus rumbles down the road in front of you. Back home, and I think more specifically while you’re a student, that same mentality doesn’t exist. Yes, there are always the top students who prove themselves early and often, but typically speaking if you work at it long enough, eventually someone will give you recognition for what you do. You’re paying to be there, so it’s not like there’s a boss breathing down your neck to be more productive, or a colleague vying for the same promotion as you. In the real world, you get one chance to make yourself look better than the next guy.

I can recall a whole lot of times, just since I graduated in April, when I’ve sold myself short for whatever reason. Honestly, part of it comes from an immature understanding of humility. Growing up, my concept of humility was doing just that–selling yourself short, or not owning up to your full potential. What kind of terrible sin it was to actually accept the fact you were the best at something, or you had unique talent at something! A good Christian doesn’t take compliments. If someone tells you that you did a great job, deny it and just say, ‘Oh it was okay,’ or ‘It was nothing, really.” It also stems from my self-esteem problems and feelings of inadequacy. For whatever reason, I’ve always been exceptionally sensitive to what I perceive other people think or feel about me. It doesn’t even matter if that perception is right or not, if I’m feeling that they think I suck at something, well then I must suck at it.

What is that?! Humility is dissing yourself? Not being confident in your abilities?

One thing I’ve always admired about Spencer Lloyd, a friend and longtime Chorale roommate, is the confidence he has in himself. I mean, he has confidence in himself to a fault. But the guy is not afraid to be talented at something, or to feel like he’s talented at something. He steps up to every challenge, and gives it his best. And for better or worse, you have to respect the guy for not being afraid to try.

One of my all-time favorite quotes is from the great Nelson Mandela, who said,

“Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we powerful beyond all measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not just in some; it is in everyone. And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.“

How amazing is that quote for a person who struggles like I do? There are a lot of things that I’m talented at. I’m a good writer. I learn remarkably quickly, even if I’m just watching someone and not actually doing the work myself. I’m a great listener, and am pretty good at facilitating discussion in a group, even though typically all I’m doing is just asking the right questions. I’m a pretty decent musician. And if I had a better work ethic, there’s about 1000 things I could be good at if I worked at it. I mean, there are very few things I feel like I couldn’t do well given the practice and time to learn. So why don’t I live with that confidence?
I remember writing a while ago about how I felt like I never went through a rite of passage–I never had that moment where you shed your childhood and accept the manhood that comes with growing up. At the time, I was looking for some specific event to do it. I thought maybe if I took a trip somewhere, or did some specific thing, it would serve as my rite. And maybe there still will be a specific event that will happen. But I think more likely that rite of passage has something to do with not fearing the person God created me to be, and instead embracing that. I’m not sure how it happens, but I realize it needs to, and I want to begin the process of changing.

I’m just not sure exactly how.

Okay, I don’t actually know how life is different in DC because I don’t actually live there. And technically I work in Northern Virginia (which will be henceforth known as NOVA), not the District. But still, if you’re going to classify me, that’s where you would have to put me.

I gave serious consideration to the standard ‘write on current events’ post, mainly for two reasons: One, they’re easy to write about. You just pick something and then state your opinions, usually laced with truthiness but not based in it, and all is well. And two, there’s a lot to say about the world right now, what with schools becoming battlefields, North Korea alienating itself from the world, and all the political turmoil which is building towards election day. But while I think you like to hear my thoughts on those things, I think you’re more interested in just hearing about my life. So I’ll give it to you as best I can.

There are lots of good things about living in DC. For one, I’m working in a job that I like. I don’t love it–that is to say it’s not necessarily the ideal job that I would craft given the opportunity–but it’s great, and is certainly an amzing place for me to start with out of college. Actually, I look at it a lot like I’m still in school. The atmosphere is a little more intense; you have to actually bring something to the table here, which is great because I became really adept at doing what was necessary to just ’slide by’ in school, so being pushed is a nice thing. As things are right now, I’m also looking to be here for 2 or 3 years, which is also pretty similar to me being in grad school. Of course, that could change either way, so I’m not exactly making plans for 2009 yet.

I say it’s not the ideal job because, well, it’s not. I don’t particularly care for the fact I’m in such a professional role, and have absolutely nothing to do with the pastoral side of working in a church. Not that I expect to be preaching sermons anytime in the near future, but I have always enjoyed being involved in the creative & planning aspects of church services, and I do miss that involvement. Especially now that I’m in a place that makes an effort to involve people, try new things, and stay out of the routine. So when I do eventually leave here I’d like to go to a place where I’ll be more involved in those kind of things (or to Hollywood or Broadway, so I can win Tonys and Emmys).

I don’t like being out here by (almost) myself. Right now, the Lails, and specifically Nate, are all I have out here, and when I move closer to work, I’ll be giving up the ability to call Nate and hang out at a moment’s notice. And I will certainly miss that. Having one of your very best friends around is such a valuable thing… Nate’s the only reason I’ve keep my sanity all this time, being out here by my lonesome. Score one for the people who got married, I guess. Having a constant companion sounds like a nice thing.

Speaking of marriage, I can say that I do very much appreciate my status as a single person. It’s not nearly as uncommon as northen Indiana would have you believe, and I like the fact that I can pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want. I mean, I still expect and hope to get married in the next few years, but really I’m quite content being single so long as I can maintain a social life. I just have been sucking at maintaining a social life, because all people do in West Virginia is get drunk. And alcohol is too expensive to spend my time getting drunk. (That was a joke… I haven’t the desire either.)

I’ve had to grow up and become responsible, which kind of sucks. I’ve spent boatloads of money on things like rent, groceries, and car repairs, and almost nothing on fun things, cool things, or impractical things. There was a time in my life when I expected to buy one big-ticket, high-tech gadget every year; you know, something to keep the inner child alive. Now it seems that money is better spent by not spending it at all. Saving so I can make trips home whenever possible, planning for a deposit of an extra month’s rent, and even cutting out of my paycheck in order to fund health insurance, retirement funds, and school bills. Man, do I miss that college ‘half-responsibility’ mode. Just in case anyone’s wondering, I did diversify my portfolio, so don’t worry. It’s a very aggressive allocation, because I’m trying to retire by 32.

Hey, you gotta have something to hope for.

Okay, so I have to admit to you that Friday caught me a little off guard, and there most certainly will not be 1,000 words for you to read today. But, in my defense, I work on the first Thursday of every month, something I forgot to take into account when I decided to post every Friday morning. And because I worked a hard 10 hours today, and drove a tiring three more, I’m tired. I don’t really have anything worthwhile to say because I don’t have the presence of mind to actually write it.

But I would still like for this post to be productive, so I ask a question (which will no doubt reflect the fact that I live in the middle of politics now). What role does government play in our lives? I ask that question because of this article. I’m sure it happens with a lot more than just this one drug, but I am still floored by the fact that millions of people are suffering from a disease that is not only preventable, but actually reversible. Okay, so it’s not an outbreak of bubonic plague, but the point still remains that millions of people are suffering from a perfectly cureable disease. All because some necktie behind a desk decided that the investors would be happier if we sold this drug for $2,000 a dose instead of $200. Or $20. Or whatever. I’m not even sure how this makes sense! Let’s do a little math:

Let’s assume there are 1 million people suffering from macular degeneration. The average American wage is in the low to mid 40,000s, but let’s call it 50k to make it easier. So most of these people can’t afford to spend $24,000 a year on this medication. They just can’t. But of those 1 million, the top 1%, or 1,000 people, can.

$24,000 x 1,000 = $24 million

Now, let’s say the necktie decideds to sell this medice for $200/month. Still $2400 a year, but much more affordable, especially to someone who values their eyesight. At this rate, let’s say now 1/3 of the suffering can pay.

$2400 x 333,000 = $799.2 million

Go to the extreme and propose this medicine costs a mere $80/month ($960/year), and all people suffering either pay or are covered via medicare. Now look at the math.

$960 x 1,000,000 = $960 million

Now, I realize that these numbers are gross profit and don’t reflect the cost of production, but can anyone tell me why 24 million is a better number than 800 million? Or 960 million? If anyone has a good explanation, help me understand why this math is wrong.

Which brings me to my point. What exactly is the purpose of government? I guess the most correct answer would be something about providing and caring for the people of its nation, or something to that extent. So where is our provider? Why hasn’t the government found a way to provide this treatment to the people who deserve it? I mean, at some point you have to stop and ask yourself what the government really does for its people. I’ve always been a supporter of the Iraq war, yet I have to admit there are a lot of better ways to spend the nearly $1 Trillion dollars we’ve spent funding it. It’s great to see the Iraqi people free from a terrible dictator, but while we’re spending millions of dollars to blow up empty buildings, then millions more to rebuild them later, we could be spending that money somewhere else. Say, maybe to support music programs which are being epidemically cut across the country. Or perhaps on nursing homes, or maybe towards medical research, or maybe towards finding familes for orphans, or helping the homeless find jobs and lives again.

I don’t like the fact that I’ve come off very unsupportive of the war, and also of the fact that I’ve just sounded amazingly democratic (I’m still very much not). And I realize that American welfare would never have benefited from that money, even if we hadn’t spent it on the war. But it’s a thought.