January has been filled with some of the all-time highs in my life, but in order to get high, or errr (not that kind of high). Okay, there wouldn’t be highs without lows (much better), and January 2013 had some of those too. The biggest thing I’ve learned about growing up, is how much you have to just TRY. That’s it, pretty vague, huh? What do you mean, try? Yeah, just having to try. Independence, work, relationships, all of these things you have to try really hard at to keep. It’s hard being on your own, it’s hard making big choices, and it can be hard to keep those you care about close to you whether they’re across town or all over the country.
Let’s start with independence, and I don’t mean independence in the sense of “LEMME DO IT!” sort of way, I mean being on my own. I have really had to try to be happy on my own. A lot of us 20 somethings are starting to spread out around the world. I am a unique case of getting work in the town where I went to college. Go deeper than that, and I’m working back in my hometown. I never ever in my whole life thought I wanted to stay here. Why? I didn’t have a reason for it. I just always that I would end up somewhere else. Well after graduating I got the opportunity to end up somewhere else. I took it. I was miserable. I got down on myself a lot and most of my support system was scattered across the midwest while I was on the coast. I gave up on that. I didn’t try to keep that independence. I didn’t try to take care of myself. I was offered a little bait to move back home, and I took it. Hook, line and stinker (just seeing if you were paying attention). I wish that I would have given California a little more effort. Honestly, I don’t think I’m supposed to end up there. It’s a beautiful place, but it was missing something. Everyone I ever cared about was far from me. I realized (really slowly) upon returning back home that those people are what matter most to me. Living here can be difficult, but it’s also pretty great. Work is fantastic, people all always coming back to visit, and I can kind of serve as a home base for when they’re here. I love that, and right now it’s where I need to be, for what reasons, we shall see.
Sidenote: Erika if you ever read this, I was a terrible roommate and pretty depressing to be around. If anything I just hope that me tagging along helped in your decision to move out to California to pursue your dream. I am ever grateful to you and your family for allowing me the opportunity to get my life sorted out in the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. You’re gonna be a big star, a lot of us already think you are.
So now that things are good in my life, there are still areas that need some “trying.” I live alone, most of my friends are living at least an hour away. The friends I have in town are still in school or have all kinds of things going on trying to figure out their lives. I am super lonely. I let that get to me a lot of last year, but now I’m trying to take care of myself better. I am cooking my meals, I’m buying and READING books. Yeah real books with pages and everything, not even audiobooks or kindle books. REAL PAPER BOOKS. And they’re awesome. I read The Great Gatsby at 25, and I get it you guys. I totally buy into all the hype over the past 90 years. I am working out. I am FLOSSING people! First time in my life. I know, yeah. Okay, yeah I get it that’s gross. Stop. OKAY I KNOW! Also, sorry to all previous girls I have kissed, but things should be good going forward. These things are so small and people do them all the time, but the big picture is I’m trying my best to get control over my life. I don’t want to end up lazy and alone. I’m honestly terrified of becoming both of those things. I can’t let it happen. So I’m working on it.
Thanks to some good friends who have been painfully honest with me, I am working on a lot things. I really value honestly nowadays. I’m not really aware of the other policies exactly, but honesty sure is a really great start. My life is good, but I was keeping it from being great. I need to unselfishly work on myself. It’s not going to be fun. I don’t like lifting weights, they’re heavy. But if I want this belly/gut to recede, then I gotta start now. I don’t like cooking, I’m hungry now! But I need to eat better, eat smarter and take care of this (soon-to-be) gutless body! Lastly, I need to think about others better. No, that’s not right. I think about others all the time. I need to pay attention to others.
(cue music) Okay, wrap it up, Matt. Like I said before, highs and lows, and this month I have really valued how good I have it. I have a job that I love going into everyday. I get to be around people I like, people I’m inspired by, and I get to feel good about the work I’m doing. I have a great family. Damn, I have such a good family, and I am realizing just how important the bonds of family really are and how lucky I am to be a Morgan. Lastly, I have incredible friends. Remarkable individuals all of them, but when we get together, we’re unstoppable. They’re so loving, and creative and talented and hilarious. It’s impossible to not have a good time around these people, and I hope we keep dancing and singing and cracking up everyday from now until the apocalypse. And I’m lucky to have friends tell me how it is, so that I may start trying to work on things I don’t see.
So I guess I just want to say I love you guys and gals. This blog really is my therapy, and I appreciate Al Gore for allowing me to clock in some time.
Now let’s talk about my relationship issues…
Last night I watched “My Week With Marilyn” and had the same sappy thought that most hopeless romantics (another sappy, usually self-appointed term) have when they experience some sort of art, “I was born in the wrong era.”
Now I, being the (self) diagnosed romantic that I am, have always wondered what life would be like if I were born in the 1920s, the 1890s, the 50s. Things were simpler, and “cool” seemed to be in abundance. The outfits were awesome. Everyone wore a suit, people dressed up to get on airplanes. The last time I prepared for a flight I got out a pair of my favorite cotton shorts and thought “Would I be more comfortable without underwear?” All shame is gone when going through security nowadays anyway. People seemed to care back then. That’s what I look back on and admire about it. Entertainers, artists, beauty, romantics really seemed to matter to people. It was cool to be a writer, an actor, a singer. The only people who didn’t approve were probably their parents (until the money started to come in).
We look back at periods of (other people’s) life and think, “wouldn’t it have been great to live back then?” They said the same thing back then. No one seems to be content in the time they are in, because you live in reality, but your imagination allows you to paint yourself into a different time. You can seat yourself at a table with Marilyn, Yogi, and Bob Hope while listening to Sinatra finish up his set. I like my imaginative self. I know all kinds of people, and have all kinds of talents. Life (in my head) is pretty good.
I really wanted to be an entertainer. What I want wouldn’t be the same in the world today. I wanted to be a Dean Martin. The guy hung out with friends, sang, and joked around. They had so much fun, it was filmed and put on TV. That’s the life I wanted. Actually, when I stop dreaming about it, it’s the life I have (minus the whole TV thing). I have great friends, all much funnier than I am, and when we’re celebrating, we sing about it. Life is pretty damn good in reality too.
So back to Marilyn. One thing that this film did well was bring to us saps in the room a dose of reality. Being a celebrity sucked. The lifestyle of celebrity and fame (and pills) drove the most famous woman of all time to her death. SIDENOTE - Think about that. Marilyn Monroe is still to this day to most famous woman of all time, aside from the virgin Mary. She’s easily the most recognizable. Why Marilyn? Because she was so beautiful. Was it? I’m sure there were several equally beautiful women at that time. Great actress? Definitely no. Good singer? Sure, but everyone was singing then, she was no better, no worse. She just had it. Which is precisely why it cannot be explained. She had so much of it that no one else will ever have as much it as she had it. It is amazing. Because not a single person knows what it is, but we know when someone has it. Both men and women can have and recognize it in another person. Times have changed though. People don’t care about beauty or comedy or singing or art or entertainment like they did 50 years ago. Was it because film and television was so new? Probably, because writers, poets, actors, entertainers, lovers, and so on have been dreaming things up for ages. I guess to get noticed, though, you’ve got to have it.
We live in a world of mass produced everything, and people feverishly refreshing their twitters because of their need-it-now addictions. Slow down, people. Enjoy something(s). Take some time to breathe in the present. Today is, in most cases, a good day. Use that imagination to create something for the now. Don’t drool over past things that are not relevant to your life now. I’ll always look at pictures of people from 1962 in their suits and women in their scarves, sitting outside of a cafe in Paris just laughing about how good it all is, and think “Damn, that’s cool,” but that’s part of being wired as a romantic (emphasis on the hopeless). However, seeing that I don’t have the funds to do any sort of traveling, time travel included, I don’t think I’ll wind up in any era other than my own. So I suppose I’ll enjoy the now, hopefully creating and starring in my own period peace.