12.21.2008

Sesame Street My Heart



I also needed to write this down somewhere:

"Don't worry about life, you're not going to live through it anyway." -- ?

12.18.2008

Feeling Minnesota



I was riding the bus to my sisters yesterday (which, honestly was a whole story in and of itself), I noticed an out-of-state license plate. It made me so jealous.

I wish I was in Minnesota only temporarily--just for kicks-- instead of loathing almost every second of the god forsaken weather.

I'm also jealous that driving around Minneapolis is probably at least somewhat exciting for them. New buildings and street names can go a long ways when you've been stuck in one city for a year, or your whole life.

I'm not only jealous, though, I'm morbidly curious. What propels you to Minnesota in December? Death, marriage, shopping?

It's not that I hate Minnesota, I just don't see why anyone would come here in December if they didn't have to.

12.15.2008

True Life: I Have Embarrassing Parents




The premise deepens as a something-teen girl hates her father for being a clown--showing up to parties with fifteen jesters, throwing confections at her and her unbearably banal friends.

Honestly, who could complain about that? What more could you want out of life than to have clowns randomly show up, and pie ya? I could rant something unoriginal here about my generations lost sense of adventure, being glued to their iPods and MySpace and such, but why bother?

I crave a life of surprises, unexpected and perhaps unmerited merriment.

Absurd, balls out, fun.

1 Hour Later Edit:

The next True Life show featured a girl complaining about moving to New Zealand.

Who are these people?


Photobucket


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Auckland
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And let's not forget where Lord of the Rings was flmed
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11.19.2008

(snow)



Something I remembered:

When we were going from my dads funeral to the burial, we were listening to KQRSs a-z library, which was something he always did. We're driving through the snowstorm on the way to the cemetery, and "Spirit In The Sky" comes on. If you don't know it, you should, it's a great song.

On the way home from the burial, we turn on KQ again, and it is Stairway To Heaven.

What a coincidence.

11.12.2008

To, From




To the Girl With the Chain from her Nose to her Ear:

Thank you for being the only one to say "Bless You" when I sneezed and thank you for not being offended when I asked if it was purely out of reflex or if you actually wished me well being.

When you got on the bus and saw me without my iPod you thought I was one of the few young people left in the world who wasn't addicted to musical solitude. I only didn't have it because I forgot it and lamented it the entire ride.

When the bus couldnt stop for the red light in the first snow of the year we shared a quiet gratitude that the bus didn't spin out of control.


As you exited the bus by way of the stairs, you paused and gave me one more smile.

And that was that. It wasn't much but it was a missed opportunity.

11.09.2008

11.06.2008

A Case of Mild Realism



There were tears (sort of, I held back, didn't want to catch anything people felt like throwing). I can't remember the last time I felt so overwhelmed with positive emotion. Party in the streets like the Twins just swept the division.

Positive Positive Positive

That's what I think is going on here. I don't completely trust Obama. He makes me feel good and he makes me believe him and that worries me. He is, after all, still a major party President. The fact that I can buy into his messages of hope and change so easily concerns me.

Either way, there is a positive thing going on right now, and I can't deny, debate or negate it.

10.09.2008

The Little Girl Who Lives Above Me and Dannee




We hear this little girl day in and day out, stomping around, yelling to her mami, and generally behaving the way a six or seven year old would. After hearing her piercing cries for the better part of an hour, we can’t help but start to wonder what she is like, what her room is like…

We know for a fact she must be cramped; there are double the amount of people living up there as there are on our half of the whole, and it’s tight down here already. I imagine she shares her room with an adult couple—staying just slightly out of the way, perhaps in the corner with a Dora the Explorer doll, or more likely, a portable play station. I imagine when they want to make love, they shoo her into another room with a perfectly reasonable seeming excuse. “Papi needs to cut mami’s toe nails; if it sounds like she’s hurt, it’s only because she doesn’t cut them enough!”
Danny says she’s the princess of the house and is the only one with her own room; toys everywhere, books and single pieces of paper strewn around carelessly (she knows where everything is).

There’s a tiny bike in the driveway, which must be hers but never moves. Danny found the chains rusty.

One thing we do know is that she has a little brother; two, three tops. It’s often impossible to tell who is screaming—children’s’ lungs can do surprising things--but she likes being an older sister, and pretends her brother is her live doll. She spends most of her time with him while madre cooks, cleans, then takes a break from cooking, cleaning. She is not the kind of child constantly asking “what is there to do? Soy Abburido!” She’s also not the kind of child who worships television; Dora is the only show she really watches, but occasionally she gets sucked into the banal celebrity dance shows her mami and papi take guilty pleasure in (she’s too young to understand it, but loves to watch the dresses fly around).

But her absolute favorite activity—above and beyond anything else; bath time. Her Barbie dolls become mermaids, the bath faucet a waterfall. The yellowed, once white walls of the tub are limestone cliffs for Barbie to jump off romantically into Ken.

I wonder what a seven-ish year olds idea of romance is.

------------------------------------------


One day we see mama bringing a basket of laundry to the car, little imaginative-child-above-us in tow, and she’s whining. She doesn’t want to go to the laundry mat. (No one wants to go to the laundry mat.) She’s crying, pulling on mami’s hand, pouting, being very difficult. Danny and I sit on the steps, out of sight; smoking our cancerous Parliaments, silently rejoicing that we haven’t been pregnant, don’t have a baby.

Suddenly we don’t like the little girl.

All that noise upstairs is her stomping her little feet, being a brat, whining about her mom wanting her to be organized—only so life can be easier on everyone.

The Barbies in the tub become a nuisance, nothing but a pointy annoyance.

As it turns out the stomping upstairs is nothing but our little girl throwing fits; dropping onto all fours and pounding them in tandem. The reverie is all but gone, and now all we can do is pound the broom stick against the ceiling in protest…

9.21.2008

It's Hip to Hate


We are a lost generation, desperately clinging to anything that feels real, but too afraid to become it ourselves. We are a defeated generation, resigned to the hypocrisy of those before us, who once sang songs of rebellion and now sell them back to us. We are the last generation, a culmination of all previous things, destroyed by the vapidity that surrounds us. The hipster represents the end of Western civilization – a culture so detached and disconnected that it has stopped giving birth to anything new.


This is an interesting piece, although I feel like I have had this conversation with many of my friends, whether they are hipsters (which, yeah, no one will admit to being a hipster, strange self loathing) or whatever superficial label they have applied to themselves, let someone else apply, or fought to rebel against.

I think this essay, it's author, it's readers, and all 2000+ people who commented on it, are really commenting subconsciously on everyone-- everyone's-- desire to be accepted. What I think most people want, though, is to feel accepted by just a few people; at least I think that's what they need. Or is that what I need? I don't know. I think most people cover up their longing to be accepted, loved, genuinely paid attention to, with preemptive bitterness against easily targeted subcultures. (Although I think this author makes a couple of really good points about the state of our supposed "sub" cultures, when everyone looks the goddamn same, and their whole look could be bought at target, sears or JC Penny.)

Anyway I'm sure many people would put me into this category of hipster, but I wear what I like. If someone can find something wrong with that... It seems to me the people who are most often lobbying against hipsters are those who have high ideals of being very independent and intellectual. I don;t find a high level of intellect in judging people who are doing what is right for them.

I guess everyone needs to feel superior, right?

*community community community*


read the whole essay
here


and check
this
out as well

9.16.2008

Never Turn Your Back on a Cat!



Anyone notice how MySpace spies on your interests and generates ads that are seemingly appropriate?

After proudly proclaiming on my page "This Kittens Got Claws!" I have been bombarded with kitten adverts.

1.Draw A Kitten!

2.Kitten Grooming School

3.Find the BEST Cat Food!

What I love is how they throw only one in the mix, to make it seem totally random. Wait, you have an interest in, or are somehow affiliated with, cats? Who knew!

But most importantly,

Can you seriously get a job grooming kittens!? Don't get me wrong, I love a full grown cat, but kittens? Holy. Shit.

I feel like my (totally made up, symbolic) guidance counselor should've clued me into this a long time ago, like 5th grade. Thanks a lot, standardized aptitude tests!

9.14.2008

Pack your Parcels and Hit the Road



I love this. This is dreamland. And my dreamland is Europe. So, here are some instructions, in no specific order; pack your bags, buy a ticket, get a passport, buy earplugs, Dramamine, and something to read for 12 hours while we fly to Europe and live in a world where we can pluck bicycles from trees like fruit. I'd race you, but I'm embarrassing slow.


9.11.2008

Chapter 1: Saying Goodbye


I have been experiencing the unspeakable terror of anticipating winter. I’ll be biking on my merry way, getting warm; a little sweaty even, from my body’s produced heat. Then suddenly—Stop biking, get to class or get home and you are cold. I can feel it in my fingers but especially in my feet—they just never seem to get warm, even on modestly warm days--, and I remember last winter. It dragged on and I feel like I lost a part of myself and replaced it with a much more sinister and pessimistic portion of Rosie.

Also, here are some characteristics I just cannot stand in people

1.(And this ones pretty all-encompassing): People who talk shit about the people they wish they were.

2.People who don's listen. People who talk to hear echoes.

3.How about I don't go down such a negative list-making route today. There will be all of winter for that, right?

9.09.2008

"Hypocrisy is only bad when it is improperly used"


I wanted to rant about this Sarah "Barracuda" Palin veep pick, but I read this editorial in Newsweek and it summed up my feelings pretty accurately.

I never thought I would live long enough to see the day when the Republican presidential candidate would cite membership in the PTA as evidence of executive experience, when the far right would laud the full-time working mothers of newborns, when social conservatives would stare down teenage pregnancy and replace their pursed-lip accusations of promiscuity with hosannas about choosing life.

The Republican Party has undergone a surprising metamorphosis since Sarah Palin was chosen as its vice presidential candidate. In Palin I recognize a fellow traveler, a woman whose life would have been impossible just a few decades ago. If she had been born 30 years earlier, the PTA would likely have been her last stop, not her first. Her political ascendancy is a direct result of the women's movement, which has changed the world utterly for women of all persuasions. It is therefore notable that Palin has found her home in a party, and in a wing of that party, that for many years has reviled, repelled and sought to roll back the very changes that led her to the Alaska Statehouse.

But expediency is an astonishing thing, and conservative Republicans have suddenly embraced the assertion that women can do it all, even those conservative Republicans who have made careers out of trashing that notion. James Dobson of Focus on the Family once had staffers on his hot line saying, "Dr. Dobson recommends that mothers of young children stay at home as much as possible." He now applauds a woman who was back at work three days after her son, who has Down syndrome, was born.

Even to state that simple fact resulted in outrage among those at the convention, who screamed double standard. But the double standard was mainly theirs. The governor was aggressively marketed in terms of her maternity, yet questions about how she managed to mother five and lead the state were dismissed as sexist. The governor's two years leading Alaska, which in terms of citizens served is the equivalent of being mayor of Poughkeepsie, N.Y., was said to be the linchpin of her appointment, but questions about her breadth of experience were dismissed as sexist. Her surrogates wanted the press to write about mooseburgers and ignore how the governor had once pursued the kind of earmarked federal funds she now insists are anathema to her. Conservatives have probably used the word "sexist" more in the past week than they have in the past 50 years.

This would all have been entertaining if it were not such rank hypocrisy. These are people who have inveighed against affirmative action, a version of which undoubtedly played a part in this selection. These are people who inveighed against personal attacks on their new nominee when the wingnuts of their own party elevated such attacks to a fine art by accusing Hillary Rodham Clinton of fictitious misdeeds ranging from treason to murder. To try to suggest Sarah Palin might garner the Hillary Clinton vote, that one woman is just the same as another, that biology trumps ideology, is the ultimate evidence of true sexism, and I hope Senator Clinton will travel the country and say so.


It's interesting how this election has been an election of firsts. The Republicans' answer is incredibly transparent, but it definitely keeps things spicy.

9.05.2008

Begin at the End

I'm finding out I'm at my most ambitious and adventurous when I have obligations to run from.