Dull, Dull, Dull...

When I first started this blog, I had intended to use it as an impetus to write on a regular basis. I figured that I might not have something interesting to say every single day, but that I should be able to come up with a pithy observation about life in big city (or how much I hate my own life in the big city) at least once a week. However, in making this assumption, I hadn't accounted for one tiny detail: I'm an extremely dull person who thrives on a healthy mixture of monotony and tedium.

The other day, I called my grandfather to wish him a happy 90th Birthday. After the conversation had drifted to a lengthy analysis of which foods taste good with salt on them, it struck me that this was probably the most interesting discussion I'd had all week. The stage set, we upped the ante by moving on to naming states we'd driven through but not stopped in, and fans of witty banter everywhere rejoiced as the art form was was taken to a whole new level when my grandmother chimed in with an annotated oral history on how much more expensive onions are than they used to be. The riveting revelations just would not end.

I live in one of the busiest and most exciting cities in the world. I'm constantly surrounded by all forms of culture, debauchery, and insanity that the mind can conjure. You'd really think I'd have more to show for my day to day existence than the ability to avoid eye contact with performance artists. Perhaps I need to get out more. Or talk to strangers more. Or talk to people I know more.
-TC