The Stranded Examiner

I've been a bit depressed lately. It's not a rare phenomenon, and I'm not convinced it's the big d Depression, but I've been less than enthusiastic about life. This is not my cry for help, don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to be the sadsack. But depression is stressful, turning things of questionable importance into big deals. Some stress adds weight, some drops weight. I've never been blessed/cursed with the latter of the two. I was actually thinking of starting what I was going to call The Depression Cookbook, with recipes for sadness from miscellaneous fast food restaurants, as well as from the comfort of your own home, with personal favorites such as these;

The Nacho Sandwich (home recipe)

Sound delicious? It is. All you need is corn chips, cheese, salsa (the hotter, the better - it acts to remind you that you are still alive), white bread (none of that whole grain crap), and maybe some lettuce and Ranch dressing. As good as it is, I haven't made it for years. I'm still recuperating from the first one.

(I typed "nacho sandwich" in google search, and this came up. go figure)

The Chinese Leftovers Sandwich, a.k.a. "The Chow" (leftovers)

This can be done with Chinese food of any quality and any order, be it Panda Express or P.F. Chang's, orange chicken or sweet and sour prawns. It's for the guy who has no shame sandwiching cold oriental food between two slices of (white) bread. That means me. The only recommendation I have is to get lo mein. Those noodles go good on a sad sandwich.

(no image available. and for good reason)

American-Made (home recipe)

Baseball. Apple pie. White guilt. These things come to mind when you think of America. And what's the most American meal? Cheeseburgers? Close. Hot dogs? Or the much more optimistic name of tube-steaks? I was thinking of something a little higher-quality. Real steaks. And how can you make a steak even more 'Merican? Add a slice of 'Merican cheese. No kidding. I've done this, and I both love it and hate myself for thinking of it. Just a word of caution; this meal takes actual preparation, meaning you have to actually prepare the steak yourself. Unless you ordered from somewhere delicious, like Texas Roadhouse. Then all you have to do is get the cheese (Kraft American singles. don't get all stingy and get the imitation-imitation cheese).

(very 'Merican!)

The McBitchin (McDonald's)

Order a McDouble and a Hot N Spicy chicken sandwich (or multiple, depending on your level of depression). Open your McDouble and place the Hot N Spicy in between the two pieces of meat. Consume. (This one is actually much more popular than I previously imagined.)

(also known as the "McIhatemyself")

The Lonely Man Sandwich (Subway)

Order a meatball sub on any bread except for the wheat or honey (we don't have time to worry about the whole health safety b.s. - the whiter the bread, the sooner you're dead). Ask for the least meatball-appropriate cheese the local chain offers (American or pepperjack are a personal favorite). Would you like any dressing on that? Absolutely! Ranch is a novice choice; I'd ask for mayo. Mayonnaise is definitely the most depressing condiment (mayo + anything = sadness). And for those of you who prefer Miracle Whip, you're not fooling anybody. The same thing applies to it. Vegetables? Optional. But I would definitely ask for jalapeños.

(a meatball salad? and I didn't think meatballs could get any sadder)

Yes, those are all very lonely meals. They're also all very tasty (except for The Lonely Man. even though some days it sounds really good, it's never a good idea. still, probably a better idea than a meatball salad).

I enjoy writing. I want to write novels and screenplays. At any given point, I have about three or four ideas clanging around my skull. The hard part is getting those ideas out my head and onto paper. So, what then, do I do with my life? Do I live keeping these ideas to myself? Or do I try to force them out of my head? It's not like I have anything to lose. If I win, I win. If I lose, I lose. I've failed so many times at a number of things, what's one more thing? The truth is, as accustomed as I've become to failing, I've come to accept it as an inevitability. Anybody who has ever failed still fears failure. And that's no way to live.

(also very 'Merican)

A common analogy for feeling stranded is that of the treadmill, where you're running, but you're not going anywhere. I can certainly relate to that, but I've already turned my treadmill way down and I'm strolling through life in the same spot I was three years ago. It may seem hyperbolic, but I'm going to go with the less subtle analogy of the deserted island. And not some tropical paradise like Blue Lagoon (although there is much less incest). I feel like I'm lost on that damn Lost island where nothing makes any sense. What the crap was that? Were there dinosaurs on that island? Maybe I'm getting confused with Terra Nova. I admit I didn't really watch either of those shows.

I want to write, dammit, and I shall. The way I see it, writing is my way off the island. And if nobody finds my message in a bottle, at least I enjoyed writing it.