Things That Make Life Worth Living: Volume 1

Late last night, somewhere between a midnight gettucing session and the perfect almond butter-banana smoothie, I stumbled across a broadcast of Zach Galifianakis' stand up show at The Purple Onion, only to find, minutes later, my poor, delicate head caved in from the sheer force of his comic genius.

There I was, entirely alone, save my delicious smoothie, scrambling frantically to jot down each minute syllable issuing from Galifianakis' knowing mouth.

Come morning, I returned to review my written leavings, only to discover several sheets of lined paper, doused in a bevy of thoughts, quotes and earth-shattering realizations. "Zach Galifianakis is a fucking genius, and a perfect person," I had written. "I want to capture everything he says in a capsule!"

By the time I'd reached the end of the program, I had firmly concluded that Zach Galifianakis knows a great deal of important things concerning modern society and how people operate in the world. More importantly, he subverts these insights by giving them a comedic twist that is undeniably effective, without blatantly betraying the breadth of his cultural knowledge and comprehension (even the beer belly, Grizzly Adams-esque beard and complete lack of shame seem perfectly constructed to mask/complement his extensive wisdom!). It is this particular quality, I believe, that firmly establishes Mr. Galifianakis' comedy as a "thing that really makes life worth living."

Barbarous.

I've been back three weeks now. My first days and weeks were ripe with social interaction, but my many companions have since departed, and I find myself in the midst of what I hope will be a relatively short bout of self-imposed isolation.

I've taken to chores, doing the laundry and tidying odds and ends (though, in this case, not for the purpose of warding off my inevitable death and decay; that purpose which housekeeping is so often used for by depressed, Rachael Ray-watching, Joel Osteen-loving housewives), skin brushing, and a re-discovering Neutral Milk Hotel's "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea."

My laundry list for the coming weeks and months is lengthy. On top of the obligatory job and college applications there is of course my own personal, private education to attend to.

For the moment, Leo Tolstoy has filled that space. As I continue to wade through the treacherous, murky swamp of joblessness and academia, it's a comfort to know that his Levin, Katia, Anna and Count Vronsky are by my side.

From Levin, I am attempting to learn piety and discipline. From Kitty, greater kindness. From Anna and Vronsky, the values of commitment and clear thinking, and the consequence of selfishness.