The realisation of the extent of narcissism in me just kicked in this afternoon. I do spend quite a lot of time prepping myself up and change clothes/outfits quite a number of times till I finally settle for the same old things I always wear. I do try to limit the time I spend primping myself up but I'll take forever unless there's someone bugging me to hurry it up. I'm becoming so vain. The mirror is my friend for life. Well, not technically but it's always there when I need it. I can't seem to resist looking at myself even when I pass a reflective window pane. I just have to look. Why must I look? It's a curse.
I had a childhood moment this morning. Woke up and went downstairs in anticipation of breakfast and coffee and comics. Still in my pjs, there was no newspaper waiting for me. Thus, went ahead to prepare my breakfast, which consisted of CocoCrunch and a good dousing of milk, and proceeded to seat myself in front of the TV since there was nothing else for me to entertain myself while I eat. I always need to entertain myself some way while I eat. Turned on the TV to Cartoon Network, settled to watching Teen Titans (wasn't a very good episode but entertaining nonetheless) since JL or any other worthy cartoons was not on, and munched away happily on my chocolate flavoured cereal with fresh milk turning a shade of chocolate brown.
That was when it struck me. The last time I did something like this was when I was at least ten. That's almost ten years ago. It felt strangely nostalgic and at the same time childish that I can eat cereal in my pjs. However, I don't spill milk anymore like I did those ten years ago, so that's a good thing. So, yes. I love recalling fond childhood memories since I'm teetering on the edge of teenhood and adulthood. The childhood years will seem so far away once I hit the big 2-0 next year as it's another phase of my life. Growing up is such a pain.
A brief conversation with my mother concerning my unhealthy interest in cartoons got me quite flustered again. The following is a not-so-accurate recap of what happened.
Me: [blankly watching cartoons] Mother: [huge sigh] Why are you watching cartoons again? Me: [snaps out of blank state] Why? What's wrong with cartoons? Mother: Isn't there anything else to watch? Why are you always watching cartoons? There's something wrong with you. [tsk, tsk] Me: No. I like watching cartoons. They're fun. Mother: It's just not normal for someone like you to watch cartoons. Not at this age. [leaves me alone] Me: [mumbles "Whatever" and returns to pure cartoon joy-watching]
Seriously. What is wrong with watching cartoons? Why must cartoons be discriminated and let children be the only ones allowed to watch them? Tell those people who created these cartoons that they're weird. Tell Genndy Tartakovsky (apologies if I misspelled his name) that he's weird and childish. Without him there wouldn't be any Dexter's Lab or PPG or Samurai Jack or Clone Wars. Not that I watch the last one but that's beside the point and I'm diverting again. Sure, most adults who watch them might be mature/old, bearded, pot-bellied, introverted and maybe secluded people but I bet there're loads of closet cartoon-watchers out there. They're just not brave enough like me to come out admitting this fact. I do know several cartoon-watchers like me who also admit this truth but that's not enough. Let all adult and teenage cartoon-watchers be free and liberated to admit that they do watch cartoons and enjoy it too! Well, it's not really a very catchy propaganda motto but it's a start.
Here's an example of a potential and future conversation between a closet cartoon-watcher and me; the open cartoon-watcher.
Open: Do you watch cartoons? Closet: [looks around shiftily or starts to nervously touch self] No! Never. Cartoons are for children! Why should someone like me watch cartoons? They're childish and are only meant for kids and babies below ten! Open: Well, I disagree. I watch cartoons and I'm alright now. It's okay to say you like watching cartoons because no one is going to label you a childish freak or nerd. There're lots of closet cartoon-watchers out there and I'm just trying to bring them out. Closet: [starts freaking out] I do not watch cartoons! Why do you insist I watch them!? What's wrong with you?! I know. You're trying to brainwash me. That's it. Well, I won't let you! I don't watch cartoons! And that's your problem if you do! Freak! Nerd! Open: You don't have to shout. Fine. I'll leave you alone. Just think about it. Call me if you need anything. [hands a card with 1-800-CARTOONS-AID printed on it] A partner to watch mind-numbing hours of Justice League episodes or even a Batman Beyond movie. I'll be there. I'm here to help you. Closet: [takes card and scrunches it up] I don't need your help! I don't watch dumb cartoons and I'm fine! Goodbye! [leaves stomping away] Open: That went well.
If you recall the last time I ranted on about cartoons, I want to add something mildly related to that topic now. Does anyone else respect Batman aka Bruce Wayne as much as I do? (with the exception of the cousin) I do now. This profound respect for him just came to me this afternoon when I was trying to study my Microeconomics text book. Let's start at the beginning.
Bruce's parents was killed by a cold-blooded mugger when he was only eight. And he was there to witness it. Imagine having to suffer such trauma at such a young age. He goes on with life, probably scarred forever by that tragic incident, but still manages to succeed. Aside from the fact that he inherited that larger-than-life fortune from his deceased parents, he still makes it. He's rich, good-looking, buffed, a martial artists expert, brilliant, analytical, has a mass assortment of weapons at his beck and call, owns at least twenty sports cars and super bikes in addition to that slick Batmobile, Batplane, and Bat-err-boat/sub, has/had a sidekick and can still hold his own against the other superheroes out there while he's only a "man". He seems the perfect man. Right? No. He's cold, stoic, wooden, broody, moody, distant, dark and always seems to scare every single person, including his JL colleagues.
Where am I going with this? Well, that "man" didn't get there by slacking around did he? No. He worked his ass off, traveling the world to learn all he needed to, to become Batman. Sure, he has that vast inheritance of his, but he didn't let himself go and get laid or become a typical rich playboy when he could anytime. He vowed to become the vigilante of the night and bla bla bla. You know the rest. What I'm trying to get to is that Bruce is a perfect example of not just a cool superhero but of the ideal hardworking person. If we work half as hard as he did, we'd become almost half of what Mr. Wayne is. So, I now profess to try to work as hard as Bruce did. Well, maybe not that whole martial arts thing but at least the equivalent of it. He didn't get that CSI-like brain of his by boozing around. Nope. He stuck to the grindstone like any person would. He didn't need any super powers. Just a whole lot of guts and sheer determination.
That's done. I'm such a nerd. If there's any mistakes relating to Batman's history please correct me. No research was done. Watch out for my next post on why Superman has such inner strength to wear that audacious outfit of his.
In other news pertaining to my life, I got an average of 30.75/40 for my Microeconomics midterm (15.25) and assignment (15.50). It's not very satisfactory but it's not bad either. I was hoping to score at least 34 but the highest is a 33 so I don't feel so bad now. I should go brush up on that subject now.
I hope this cartoon phase of mine passes over quickly so that I can concentrate on studying for my finals which is less than three weeks away.
