"He stood in a peculiar relation to existence on the whole; he mastered it, but he had no high opinion of it."- Isak Dinesen, Out of Africa
Saturday, June 25, 2011
john.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
i guess i'll start with the beginning.
when i decided i wanted to my life to be a woody allen movie full of woody allen dialogue (which is definitely a thing mr. allen). i totally want to be pretentious, and have cultured friends, with whom i can spend the day going to museums, various cafes, dinners, galas, exhibitions, films, park walks - all of which involve some sort of philosophical debate on the role of sex in relationships, or aging, or our own idiosyncrasies. a long time ago, i whined to a friend about how totally boring I felt my life was, and he in all his accidental mentor-like "wisdom" (only now, do i realize just how wholly indifferent he really was), responded that "life was generally pretty boring." this hit hard. then why are we all so desperate for it, i thought.
but, of course, he's right. life is generally pretty boring, and my life is not that far from a woody allen movie. aside from the fact that i'm middle class and working two jobs, i do spend an obnoxious amount of time at bookstores, cafes, and taking strolls discussing, i don't know, stuff.
and this in turn, has really turned problematic for me. because now i find it very difficult to be my on my own. but every now and then i'll find myself pigeonholed into that very situation. and suddenly, i'm talking a walk through the hip part of town, not listening to my ipod. and the thing is, my bitterness and sarcasm don't carry here. here, people are beautiful and light. and i don't mean that aggressively, necessarily. i don't think. but i exit the mass consumption that is my day job, and enter the casual streets of hipster-dom. instead of buying large quantities of mass produced things, i find myself sifting through carefully selected one-of-a -ind pieces.
it's all very healthy, and very unsettling.
eventually, i will find myself in a bookstore. walking in, i recognize the guy working. he's this familiar face around school who's been in a number of my classes, and this summer, we've been running into each other at various events. "oh, you like this band too, oh, you hang out at this cafe too, oh, now here you are, working." and because he's bearded and pony tailed and thin, I've mentally and presumptuously nicknamed him "Devendra." here, i discover his real name, and discover that the intimidating intellectual in my class hardly reads fiction, and absorbs non-fiction like nobody's business. "it's weird," he says. "like, i go out and dance, and drink, and play music and stuff. like, i have fun. but i think i make up for all that crap by settling down and reading all this non-fiction." and so now, he knows everything about most things. he says that a couple minutes ago, a local-crazy came in with a golf club and beat the shit out of the owner of said bookstore. glass had shattered, and what i saw now, was a freshly installed doorway. "what?!" i say. "whatever, it's all good." he says. "have a really great day!" he shouts to the exiting client.
the occasional customer walks in and out of his store, and the seemingly serious student starts conversing with me in a way, i've only ever seen morning talk show hosts do. with ease, and a sort of desire to make sure you're comfortable. two or three customers later, a man shouts through the door, "the book in your window is placed upside down!" Devendra says, "aw man, that's what happens when a beautiful girl walks into your store. you get all confused!" the man peers in at the back where i am standing. "her?" he says. "Nah," Devendra stumbles. "I mean, she's a gorgeous girl too, but it wasn't her."
this was yesterday.
but, of course, he's right. life is generally pretty boring, and my life is not that far from a woody allen movie. aside from the fact that i'm middle class and working two jobs, i do spend an obnoxious amount of time at bookstores, cafes, and taking strolls discussing, i don't know, stuff.
and this in turn, has really turned problematic for me. because now i find it very difficult to be my on my own. but every now and then i'll find myself pigeonholed into that very situation. and suddenly, i'm talking a walk through the hip part of town, not listening to my ipod. and the thing is, my bitterness and sarcasm don't carry here. here, people are beautiful and light. and i don't mean that aggressively, necessarily. i don't think. but i exit the mass consumption that is my day job, and enter the casual streets of hipster-dom. instead of buying large quantities of mass produced things, i find myself sifting through carefully selected one-of-a -ind pieces.
it's all very healthy, and very unsettling.
eventually, i will find myself in a bookstore. walking in, i recognize the guy working. he's this familiar face around school who's been in a number of my classes, and this summer, we've been running into each other at various events. "oh, you like this band too, oh, you hang out at this cafe too, oh, now here you are, working." and because he's bearded and pony tailed and thin, I've mentally and presumptuously nicknamed him "Devendra." here, i discover his real name, and discover that the intimidating intellectual in my class hardly reads fiction, and absorbs non-fiction like nobody's business. "it's weird," he says. "like, i go out and dance, and drink, and play music and stuff. like, i have fun. but i think i make up for all that crap by settling down and reading all this non-fiction." and so now, he knows everything about most things. he says that a couple minutes ago, a local-crazy came in with a golf club and beat the shit out of the owner of said bookstore. glass had shattered, and what i saw now, was a freshly installed doorway. "what?!" i say. "whatever, it's all good." he says. "have a really great day!" he shouts to the exiting client.
the occasional customer walks in and out of his store, and the seemingly serious student starts conversing with me in a way, i've only ever seen morning talk show hosts do. with ease, and a sort of desire to make sure you're comfortable. two or three customers later, a man shouts through the door, "the book in your window is placed upside down!" Devendra says, "aw man, that's what happens when a beautiful girl walks into your store. you get all confused!" the man peers in at the back where i am standing. "her?" he says. "Nah," Devendra stumbles. "I mean, she's a gorgeous girl too, but it wasn't her."
this was yesterday.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
blog, meet lindsay.
she's all kinds of rad, and her radness can be found at http://songoutsidemywindow.blogspot.com/ - bookmark it.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
oh my, i have been blogged.
http://www.theladiestoilet.com/2011/06/hot-socks-and-crop-tops/
Thanks theladiestoilet! - everyone go check em' out.
(oh man, this is reminding me of the days of 'plugging.' sigh, #raisedonblogs)
Thursday, June 2, 2011
i almost facebook 'liked' this before i realized what was happening
"If you dedicate your existence to being likable, however, and if you adopt whatever cool persona is necessary to make it happen, it suggests that you’ve despaired of being loved for who you really are. And if you succeed in manipulating other people into liking you, it will be hard not to feel, at some level, contempt for those people, because they’ve fallen for your shtick. You may find yourself becoming depressed, or alcoholic, or, if you’re Donald Trump, running for president (and then quitting)."
- JONATHAN FRANZEN,
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/29/opinion/29franzen.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=general
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