Up Up Up
I have spent a lot of my life so far accepting and rationializing mediocrity. The past year of my life consisted mostly of mourning and acting out against tragedy. At this moment in my life, I am basking in the benefits of actually seeking out and embracing what I deserve. It feels nice and oddly takes way less effort than the constant pressure involved with always trying to make things better.
I checked out my old personal website through Michigan State yesterday. We used those websites to post papers and things for some of my classes, but after I graduated, I used mine as a web design practice site while I taught myself programs. Some of the site’s incarnations are pretty funny to look at, but what shocked me the most is that my “online journal” entries are not very different from the words I post today. Except I think I was smarter and had more time on my hands to read and do art. But not much has changed in my head, apparently.
Exhibit A:
Date: Thursday, June 12, 2003 7:58:05
Topic: obsessions for now
chai
crocheting
nag champa
nivea lotion
the rapture
big jewelry
nylon magazine
my dog
leaving work on time
a song by neko case
vanilla musk
big salads
leaving the lights off
people watching
mix cds
frilly tops
taking bad photographs
sarcastic writers
looking at old photographs
hiding
dvds
deconstructed fashion
$8 concerts
there are a million more shallow obsessions to list, but i must go to work.
enjoy the silence.
Exhibit B:
Date: Monday, June 16, 2003 7:47:34
Topic: patience will find you pretty things
while waiting for the bus yesterday, an old, toothless man sat near me and shouted “happy father’s day! happy everybody day! everyday is everybody day!.” then he began to pump his nubby hand into the air and sang that song “joy and pain . . . sunshine and rain.” then, a cop pulled up and arrested him because he received a complaint from trader joe’s and the man wasn’t cooperating. i wonder what he did at trader joe’s. hopefully it was fun . . . maybe he had some sunshine to go with his rain.
i have another obsession to add . . . french films. except for the very violent, head-chopping sort. L’auberge Espagnole (which wasn’t entirely in french) is a fun film, i think. i also rented Frida (not french, of course) . . . the art direction is amazing in that movie. i’m painfully jealous of the people who get to design films like that.
i hibernated all weekend . . . sad it’s over.
work work work work work work work work work work.
monday fun day
Exhibit C:
Date: Sunday, May 4, 2003 1:06:28
Topic: sunday lusty sunday
do you ever wonder what people are like when they are with their closest friends? those lucky enough to have an invitation to such a forum are often somewhat surprised that the person they’ve befriended isn’t quite so innocent after all. innocence is relative, though, right? i am certainly virtuous, by my standards. 😉
everyone has needs (i keep pounding away at that theme, don’t i? . . . ew, terrible pun – so sorry). perhaps the tight-lipped folks just spend more time tactfully slipping their needs under their bed (where their pornography is hidden) to reveal them at a more appropriate time. for some reason, the quiescent people intrigue me. i love how it seems like they are holding on to a secret and they won’t share it with just anyone. maybe i’m fond because they don’t let on that they aren’t listening to a damn word you are saying. i wish i would embrace silence more often.
so what are the chronic-sex-talkers looking for? attention? probably sex. most tenth graders will agree that those who discuss it frequently aren’t engaging in the activity so much. maybe that is why the CSTs demand that the general public view them in a sexual way. and does all of the hyberbolic, forced, sexual imagery indefinitely drop the chronic-sex-talker’s partner onto a lubricated slope that leads to an anti-climactic vat of unfeeling disappointment? hmmm…
my brother thinks that sex is the lowest common denominator . . . i’m not sure i agree – i think it can feel strictly primal, cheap, or awkward, for those that devalue it in such a way and therefore, approach it with a small amount of respect. but some people attach plenty of powerful abstractions to “sexual acts” (for shame! that was so very sex-ed teacher of me). i think connecting sexually can, for the most part, contain a series of profound moments, if one so desires.
maybe it is difficult to listen to someone chatter on about sex on their terms, according to their values (shit, is that what i’m doing ri-ght now?). when you spend most of your life trying to escape sexual attention (although everyone appreciates it, in a way) in hope that others will deal with you on an intellectual level, you tend to distrust those that discuss fornication in excess. alas, in time, you let people see you. and, because you’re bored with trying, it doesn’t matter what kind of attention comes along.
whether someone hides who they are or tries to focus on one aspect of who they are to skew the perception of others, “the others” always tend to finally see through the methods. you can run, but you can’t hide. uhm, and as evidence indicates . . . i’m not skillful at either.
in case this has become too ponder-ific, i would like to add that stephen malkmus is my new make-believe boyfriend. i want to wrap my ballerina tights around his head. hah!
i’ve become quite the chronic-crush-talker . . .
So you see, I had many of the same obsessions, same desires, and the same proclivity toward posting random, rambling thoughts as now. I am starting to understand why I received the mock election awards of “least changed” and “most memorable” (among others) in high school. It didn’t make sense to me at the time.
I guess I think the biggest difference in me then v. me now is that I am tougher. Tougher and wiser. Maybe even more liberal. And I am proud to say that I am feeling hopeful, excited, grateful, and full of love for the things and people in my life right now. I don’t care if I am a piece of cheese. Hopefully I am at least a delicious hunk of triple cream.
Never.
Stop.
Crushing.
With.
All.
Of.
Your.
Being.
tickle fight! 