Category Archives: Essay

The success of How I Met You Mother

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Quick note, if you haven’t already seen the series finale and would like to, there are spoilers in my post.

~Joe~

himymI just got done watching the series finale of How I Met Your Mother for the second time. It’s been two days since it aired, two days since fans felt betrayed by the show’s creators, two days since fans had their hearts broken by the revelation that the eponymous mother was in fact dead.

It took eight seasons to meet her, but it wasn’t until the end of the finale that we are finally introduced to Tracy McConnell. What should have been the satisfying conclusion, and ultimately the beginning of a modern-day romantic fairy tale, became instead the requiem song of a lost love, of a man still in mourning but who wants to live, a man who feels compelled to ask his children for permission to move on.

The ending upset a lot of fans, and I want to say that that’s a victory for the creators of the show as well as the writers, the crew, and especially the cast. Together, they made us care about a group of five friends trying to make it in life and in love. Together, they made us root for them, to laugh and to cry with them. We fell in love with their journey, and it’s a journey most of us can relate to.

From the start, we knew it’s about Ted Mosby’s journey to find the great love of his life. We know that Ted will find her, and that they will have been blessed with two children. Still, we came back week after week for nine seasons, to finally have the answer as to how he met this mystery woman. We have the answer, and we are upset because we discover that the real reason for the story is not to tel about meeting the mother, but because it’s about asking for permission to date again.

Check out Twitter, read the countless other blogs and articles across the web and you will see what I mean, if you haven’t already. In light of all this anger, how can I say that this is a success? Easy, because we care enough to be angry. We care about Ted, seeing the ups and downs he had to endure on his way to meeting his wife, that we were blindsided by the fact that it ended so soon. Happily ever after only lasted about ten years, then the end.

***

The real reason we are upset is due to the success of the writers in creating wonderful characters, rich in history, their eccentricities on display, unique in a way that made them relatable. We know people like them or wish we did, and many of us would like to know them or to be in a group with them. They were our friends.

We saw in their struggles many of the same things we struggled with in life. They faced fears and doubts in their professional lives, in the personal love lives, and with each other. Not one of the five was one-dimensional. They were all complex, and had a range of attributes, some great and others quite ugly.

They became real through the telling of the story so that nine years later we felt a very real emotional connection to them. We were shocked by the mother’s death, a character we didn’t even know, because we cared for Ted and knew how hard he fought for his ideal of love.

It’s not an easy feat to have an audience accept a cast of characters to be genuine, but we did for them, and that’s a legacy that Bays and Thompson should be proud of. For all the writers out there, this is something we all want to emulate, to create characters that pulls the reader into the story we are telling, to make them care enough to laugh and cry, to feel joy or to become angry at our decisions.

On Monday, we finally became privy to the story HIMYM had been telling us for years. I hope those of you who were fans can take a moment to appreciate the magic we witnessed. Had we not cared, we would not have become angry when the moment of the grand reveal happened. For better or for worse, this was the story that they had wanted to tell all along. I for one applaud them, though I would have loved it if Ted would have been granted his fairy tale ending. He deserved it, as did we all.

In Memoriam

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In Loving Memory
Tracy McConnell Mosby
We hardly knew you

Three years strong

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Joe.jpg

Me back in 2011.

Late last month, I let a milestone pass unobserved, not because I meant to, but rather because I completely forgot until after the fact. Three years ago last month, my then wife chose to runaway to move in with some guy she had never met in person, a guy she met online and talked on the phone behind my back.

I almost posted about it the next day but chose to let the past stay in the past, and to stop dwelling on things that I should forget about. And I did, until yesterday, when I logged onto my WordPress site and saw a notification that it had been three years since I had signed up for this blog, although I wouldn’t post my first blog, an observation about trying to find myself after a break-up, until the next day.

KINDLE_CAMERA_1391351350000

Me today, playing with my Kindle. I’m not so good with the smiling, but I’m actually in a good mood.

I never thought I would still be on here, let alone with my own domain name, three years on, but I’m still here. I’m not posting as often as I had been, and I’m no longer obsessed with my stats, as in I want more page views, but I’m still here. My focus no longer is on my poor, sorrowful self. Bygones are just that, and I’m focusing my energies elsewhere.

So, in honor of my three-year anniversary, I want to share a few good things to have come out of the debacle of 2011.

  1. I finally escaped a toxic relationship. I know I’m not the only one to have found themselves stuck in an unhealthy relationship/marriage. We had problems from the beginning, but I did my best to stick it out. Not once did I engage in extramarital affairs, not that I was a perfect husband. Still, I stuck it out until she ran off. Then I found the strength to file for divorce. Had I not, I’m sure she would have tried to come back, again.
  2. I started this blog. More importantly, I began to write. What started out as an outlet to express my disappointment and the bitter pain that consumed me, over time morphed into a desire to write something more. I began a journey to fulfill a dream to become a published author, and though I’m not there yet, I’m still on the journey. I will publish a book!
  3. I met new friends. Through writing, and in particular though NaNoWriMo, I met an awesome set of people who supported me that first year, and who still support me via Facebook. I couldn’t have made it this far without the North Texas Rough Writers. (Don’t tell them that. They might get a big head.)
  4. I graduated college. After more than a decade of wishing I could find a way, I went back to school last spring to finish up my remaining hours. In August 2013, thirteen years after I dropped out, I finally earned my Bachelor’s Degree. Now I want another one, but one I can ACTUALLY put to use.
  5. I’ve spent time reconnecting with my family. I did so reluctantly at first, but I’m spending time with my parents, brothers, and sister for the first time in any meaningful way, now that we are all adults. I’ve rebuilt a large part of my childhood home, watching my nieces and nephews grow up, and actually met a new addition to the Hinojosa clan, a new niece born last month.

Sure, I few bad things have happened as well, but that’s life. The biggest change is that I’m working to see the good instead of dwelling on what’s bad. I’m looking to the future, and working to make that dream a reality. I have not artificial deadlines anymore. I’m trying to be realistic with myself, pushing myself to met my goals without imposing too strict a time frame. Maybe this time next year, we’ll revisit this and see how I’m doing.

Maybe…

When Harry Met Hermione

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DH1_Riddle-Harry_and_Riddle-HermioneMy Facebook feed blew up recently, as did blogs and various other websites, when JK Rowling had the audacity to spew her vile belief that Hermione should have chosen the Chosen One over the Other One. Harry Potter, and not Ron Weasley, should have captured the heart of the young, fair maiden. Evil is she, that Rowling woman, to break the hearts of all Potterdom. I hates her forever!

I thought about writing my thoughts on this sooner, but I didn’t. Then I thought that too much time had passed, and quite frankly, it didn’t matter anyway. I was wrong. I’m still finding recently written articles about this scandal, accusing the author of going all George Lucas on us Potter fans, and changing the direction of the story after the fact. But she didn’t. She made her regrets known, but she’s not rewriting the story.

To me, I really don’t care about the mating of the characters. It’s a nice little postscript to the story, but not really all that important. Also, there’s a small part of me that maybe can see what she means. Not that I necessarily believe Hermione needed to be paired with Harry, but why Ron? What does he bring to the relationship? He’s not that intelligent or talented. He’s angry, slightly embittered, and has a horrible temper. He’s definitely side-kick material.

And Hermione? She’s not. She might have made a decent equal partner for Harry, but would that have relegated her to second-fiddle? She’s a star in her own right, and maybe there’s the attraction to Ron. She doesn’t have to compete for the spotlight. That said, am I suggesting that she’s not a strong enough woman to step out of Harry’s shadow? Of course not! That’s not what I’m saying! Honest!

But what of Ginny? She married Harry, and she’s a strong, independent woman. She’s not just Mrs. Harry Potter, but an accomplished Quidditch player turned Senior Quidditch Commentator for the Daily Prophet. Not exactly a wall flower by any means. She’s strong enough of a personality to deal with marrying The Boy Who Lived, and the fame that comes with it. But if not Harry, she would have been fine with someone else. Even Bonnie Wright, the actress who portrayed Ginny came out and said as much.

But what other pairings could there be? I’ll admit that I’m a fan of a Harry-Luna coupling. Luna Lovegood is my all-time favorite character in the series, which was cemented by the casting of the amazing Evanna Lynch. Both Harry and Luna were outcasts.Luna had a way of coaxing Harry when he needed it the most. She was blunt, but never rude, and could cut through the bullshit like no one else. She could both nurture and reprimand him in such a way that it didn’t seem harsh. She’s a matter-of-fact woman and forced him to confront things for what they were.

But what of Cho Chang? Um…puh-leese! I wish I had more to comment here, but Cho was really a non-character, a filler to illustrate his desirability among girls, and to show just how clueless he was when it came to the opposite sex. True, he had more pressing matters to contend with, you know, having a sociopath gunning for him, and the future of all mankind. You know, that old chestnut?

As for the other characters, who cares. I’m really a Harry-Luna fan, but I like Ginny, too. She’s got spunk. As for Hermione, who does she have? Harry and Ron. Sure, there was Viktor Krum, but that was just a fling. Then there was Corman McLaggen, but come on, he was just a tool she used to get Ron jealous. Now Draco Malfoy, interesting, but since she’s a mudblood, he’d never go for it. Stupid Draco.

And what of poor Ron Weasley? Does anyone care about him? Who should he be paired with? I guess there’s Lavender Brown, but she did die in the movie, though she lived in the book. Hmm… I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care. He’s not my favorite character, but I share a few of his worst traits, mainly his hotheadedness.

Now that I’ve taken the time to write this, I realize just how silly this conversation really is. Who cares? The characters are just that, fictional characters invented by some woman in the U.K. I think all I’ve managed to do is to demonstrate just how big of a geek I am. I should let it go. This is inconsequential, and I have better things to do.

Harry-Luna all the way!

Telling you about my first time

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all's well that inks well

all’s well that inks well (Photo credit: b1gw1ght)

Today starts the first week of my break between classes. I have three weeks to do nothing resembling anything academic. Just me and my computer, television, and maybe a few good books. As soon as my new book arrives, I’ll begin to read it for next month’s book review.

Of course I’m going crazy, obsessing over what my grades will ultimately be. So far it appears as though I’m going to pull straight A’s, but it’s not definitive. As soon as I know I’ll drive you crazy with my pathetic display of self-congratulatory behavior. I’m stretching as we speak to give myself a hearty and well-deserved pat on the back. I don’t want to pull anything as I contort myself awkwardly.

But while I wait, I did something last night that I’ve been toying with for a long time, but finally worked up the nerve to do; I submitted a short story for publication. To be honest, I think this rates higher on my “Hurray!” scale than my grades so. I finally did it!

Okay, I know this doesn’t seem like too big a deal. People submit short stories, essays, and novels everyday. What is a big deal, at least for me, is that I pushed myself out of my comfort zone. I sent my first submission. Now all I have to do is wait the appropriate amount of time to receive my first rejection.

Hey! Think positive! Yeah I can practically hear you screaming at your computer screens. I am thinking positive. I’m thinking I’m going to hear a response. Joking aside, although I really do hope they decide to publish it for me, I’m okay if they pass on my piece. I think I expanded my boundaries just by filling out the form and sending my story “Letting Go” to Agni Online. Everyone has to start somewhere and this is my start. And if they do reject it, I’ll send it to another site. Try, try again, as they say.

I’m also working on a short creative nonfiction essay that I plan to submit to Hippocampus Magazine. My essay chronicles my struggle with depression after the turmoil of my divorce up to leaving my job and spending a year unemployed. It’s set on my first day back to school, thirteen years after I dropped out. It’s nowhere near completed, and I’ll probably obsess for a few weeks before I submit it, but we’ll see where it takes me.

And finally, I still have to finish my rewrite of my novel. Once I’m done, I can evaluate where I am there. I’ll probably have to do another rewrite (and then another) before I’m satisfied letting this one out into the world. As you can tell, I plan to spend a good part of my time off writing. I let my classes get in the way of writing so I have a lot of time to make up. Then my last class will start next month and I may temporarily lose track of writing again, and that’s okay. By July I should be done and then I’ll be able to move forward in my life.

Hopefully I’ll also have a published story to go along with my sheepskin. I hope, I hope, I hope!

Piece of the wrong puzzle

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Puzzled

puzzle perspective

puzzle perspective (Photo credit: jugbo)

It’s hard to describe what my life is at the moment. It’s a jumble, a fragmented picture that I’m trying to piece together without a clear understanding of what the picture is supposed to be. Do you understand how frustrating it is?

Where does this piece go?

Here?

No.

Screw it. I’ll set it over here for the moment and deal with it later.

Playing the “What If” Game

I’m finishing up the last of my college. I have spoken about his often, probably because this is something I have wanted for a long time. I’ve often wondered where I would be today had I done the intelligent thing and finished over a decade ago. If I hadn’t stopped in 1999, presumably I could have graduated by 2000. Would my life have been better? Worse?

What if? I know you’ve played that game before. What if I had gone out with this person instead? What if I had taken that job? What if..?  What if…?  What if…?

The problem with this is that it presumes that we have the ability to know what would have happened. In hindsight everything seems so painfully obvious, but the problem is that what we know is a result of our experience. Had we gone and taken that other path, that what if, we very well could be asking what if we had done the very thing you currently wish you could have avoided.

You only ask because maybe things would have been better the other way.

In flight

But what I’ve discovered is that I’m a man still in flight, fleeing a past that has probably been long forgotten by the other party. Is this normal? When something traumatic happens, is it only a trauma to one and not the other? Could something that is holding me back be a non-issue for the other?

I realized that I’m still running away from the ghosts of my past yesterday afternoon. I had to go to the bank inside a Walmart to take care of an outstanding issue that I should have dealt with ages ago. Took fifteen minutes and I was done. Typical.

Anyway I left the bank and I wandered around the store and I felt apprehension. Why? Because that’s where the forsaken she-devil works. I’ve avoided the department that she works in ever since we broke up. Forget the obvious that she works at a store 400 miles away, but I really have no idea if she still works there, at the store, in that department, or even in the company. I could easily find out, but why do that to myself?

So why avoid it? I’ve conditioned myself to avoid it. Being in the area brings back memories which makes me sad, fills me with pain and anger, and all I want to do is to escape. I leave. I feel better. I think that may constitute negative reinforcement.

I haven’t dealt with the underlying problem. I ran away from it, from her. At the time the pain was all-consuming, it encompassed my entire being. Those close to me are probably better able to describe how I was than I am. I shut down. I didn’t function really for a long time. I lost my job because of it and look at me now.

So walked in, half-expecting to see her, knowing that I was being an idiot. I walked around, trying to break the synaptic connections that make me associate that department to the girl who hurt me. She hurt me, and she works there so being there brings back the pain.

Walk around.

Look at bbq things.

She’s not here.

Cool patio set

I wish I could see her.

What would I say?

Nothing. I’d run away.

I’ll have to go back more often to free myself of that particular association. It’s silly, but is it really? I’ve decided that it isn’t. I’m entitled to my feelings and I’m entitled to dealing with them in my own time. Emotions are too complex to figure out.

Some of you might be judging me, you may say I’m weak, that I fell apart. What can I say to that? Fuck you. That’s what. You don’t know me. You don’t know the experiences that I’m gone through. What would it take for you to fall apart? You’re not as strong as you suppose. We all have a breaking point, and the trigger may be something you’d never see coming.

So what now?

I live my life, that’s what. I walked around and window shopped for a while, but I didn’t buy anything. I left and drove to the Barnes and Noble to escape into fantasy. I walked in, after being gone since 2000, I’m immediately flooded with memories from an even more distant past. A less painful past.

I walked around, glimpsing at the thousands of stories there were to be discovered. It was nice to be surrounded by books. The feel, the smell, the connection you get by the tactile immediacy of holding a book. It’s wonderful and joyous and marvelous and…

Oh shit.

Do I really expect to join all of these books, vying for shelf space, hoping to attract a readership? Am I good enough? Do I have a story to tell? Would anyone be willing to spend their time and money to read what I have to say?

Don’t know.

So I walked around, forgetting myself and my troubles, leaving my doubts and fears behind, and I shopped for a story, somebody else’s story. There are so many books to choose from, so what do I get? I looked for a book, and it took me several minutes to remember the name, but who was the author? Crap. Oh there it is, magically appearing before me on a display. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. This was a NaNoWriMo novel she wrote and got published. I had to get it.

I walked around some more, searching but not finding, wondering if it did so poorly that B&N decided to discreetly banish it from the store. An employee asked me what I wanted. “The Casual Vacancy,” I replied sheepishly. Why sheepishly? It’s my money, and I’ve been wanting to read it ever since I knew J K Rowling was going to publish a non-Harry Potter book. Screw reviews I’ve seen. I wanted it.

Books in hand, and almost $60 poorer, I left the bookstore, knowing that there were better things on which to spend the money, but nothing that would give me more pleasure. I got into my car, went to Kohl’s and bought me a shirt. Happy, I got into my car, went through the drive through of a McDonald’s, and headed home.

So? What the hell is the point?

That’s the puzzle, isn’t it? You live, you have an epiphany, and life goes on. Here soon I’ll have my degree in hand, and I’ll find a job and then what? Hopefully I’ll find someone to blur the edges of my bad memories and who will dull the hurt that I guess I’ll still have. I know I still harbor resentment. Will that ever go away?

Who knows, but I have two books to read, and a few stories percolating in my head. I have a quiz on Monday, an exam on Tuesday, and an essay to read on Wednesday. And you know, I should probably start working on my mental health project that’s due on the 25th.

Life goes on and you deal with things as they come. I’m slowly dealing with her, but you know what, she’s not as big a piece of my life and I once thought. And you know what? That puzzle piece I couldn’t figure out where it went? It doesn’t even belong to my picture and I can chuck it into the trash can.

And just like that, maybe I’ll be able to throw her away, just as she did me. She doesn’t belong in my picture so why keep her on the table, and life moves on.