'fidget' is an anagram of 'gifted'

yesterday i drove to the grey bowels of arlington to procure 4 tires from a farmer with gorgeous eyes. thank you once again, craigslist. they had been stripped from a 74 super beetle. they still sit in the hatch of my other car- awaiting my motivation. my landlord told me to move my bug by the end of the month. i got into the car yesterday and she started immediately, still smelling like all old volkswagens smell- gasoline and warm dust, even though it's been fucking freezing outside. the radio was playing 'sister golden hair', for chrissake. and i thought "i can't give her up."
went to an MS 'newly diagnosed' group last night. myself and 3 older men- late 40s up. it was therapeutic as fuck. life goes on, always. it was pouring rain when i left; it had snowed on capitol hill and parked cars were covered with snow. i went to bleu to read and was approached by a tweaker at the bar. he was loudly impressed with what i was reading ("babbitt" by sinclair lewis- which is a rather annoying book with hokey dialogue and superfluous detail, but it was 25 cents and is easy to stash in my bag) and we ended up talking for an hour or two. he was already slurry when he arrived and proceeded to grow more so. the things he said were transparently bullshit, but it was nice to talk to a new person. his credit card was declined as i was leaving. i had missed the last bus and walked home. cynicism set in almost immediately and once again i thought:
where do these fuckups come from? is it so fucking difficult to find a MAN who doesn't drink until they're an idiot, who has the self-esteem to not do a fucking line before stumbling through their day, who has a fucking JOB and self-reliance and confidence without arrogance, who lives by action rather than merely pontificating? this generation is getting more immature and ill-defined by the year. and the older people get, the more pathetic it becomes.
luckily i am fortunate to also know many people who have their shit together. and i am grateful and humbled. they remind me that i fall somewhere in the middle.
the new raconteurs album is fucking fantastic.
so is the movie "coming home." i now have a ridiculous crush on '70's-era jon voight.
my trampoline arrives next week. fuck practicality.
... i have successfully negated the strident righteousness of the prior paragraphs by my dorky hypocrisy.
the key to adulthood, perhaps, is to choose your unjustifiable inanities wisely...?