The summer of Ally.

There is always a familiar feeling I sense whenever Desperado crawls through my ears.

And I sense that same feeling whenever James Jean posts a new creation on his website, I read a brilliant comic book, or I draw or I write on this blog, watch Seinfeld, eat muffins, always a jumping sensation. It's as if happiness flickers through the tips of my fingers and tries to jump out of my skin. 

But for the happiness to jump out of me, it seems so unreal, and the shock of it generates through me as if electrodes were wired across my mouth.

It's very much like walking on air. The feeling is sizable and neat--it doesn't bother me or pester me with plans of domination or desire to rule me. It lets only the sensible things of life intervene, as all good feelings should do.

I consulted Seinfeld in order to push this good feeling to the limit and it granted to me,

The Summer of George.

And I've recently found out it was one of the first Seinfeld episodes I've ever seen.

Actually, could be the first Seinfeld episode I've ever watched.

George gets a severance package from the Yankees after getting fired and subsequently moving to Tyler Chicken--a severance package that lasts for three months, and he uses these three months off, declaring this period as, "the summer of George."

And as Jerry dates a woman who apparently has a "dude," Kramer is forced to fire Broadway-sensation Raquel Welch and Elaine ends up in catfights with a co-worker, George is pretty much "tasting the fruits and letting the juices drip down his chin," by doing absolutely nothing all day, relaxing on his brand-new massage chair, and playing Frolf.

No, I don't plan to use all my money this summer on a massage chair neither do I have any obligation to play Frolf (even if Lois the adorable purple lizard and Lee Dewyze may do so), but something better.

I want my full attention on Esperanto and my comics. For long, my ideas have suffered cruel patience, and now they are going to be set free.

And really, ideas can't be contained inside you for too long. They are like peeled onions stored in a jar, or canned sardines--the more they are sealed in, or the more they are left on a shelf, the worse they get, the taste gets lost, and they stink up the place when you finally use them.

Well, I don't know if it really goes like that, but you get my point. Somehow.

And I have to watch Seinfeld all over again. I believe to have finished the entire series last November and since then, watched whatever episode came by.

And I don't believe I have mentioned what exactly my favorite episodes of Seinfeld were. I think I must make that a goal, finalize a list of my favorite Seinfeld episodes and reasons why I do.

Same goes for Seinquotes. The big distinction between Seinfeld and any other TV show/dim-witted sitcom/overreacting shlemiel, is that it's probably the most intelligent show, not education-related, that can also relate to life and it shows that they make it a job to keep you relaxed and entertained, and they do the thinking, the talking, the complex problems that we as humans just watching the show don't have to solve anyway.

It's probably more oriented to reality than any other show. Anything else is emotionally exhausting or mind-boggling or illogical beyond reason--which is why I gave up on Everybody Loves Raymond the first time I watched it.

And in a stewing pot of sarcasm, crude remarks, catchy jokes, and signature phrases that are delicious in taste, really, is there a better show?