Thoughts/Tweets that will probably never make it Part 3

1. random sentence I wrote in summer 2010
the warming gel pack lay limp in the basin, like a dead fish waiting to be poached for supper

2. random sentence I wrote in january 2010

All my professors were/are nice, but it doesn't stop me from observing them as if I were on a safari and they were in their natural habitats.

3. These random sentence compilations  are in part an urge to clean out my drafts folder filled with barely attempted posts

4. random sentence from August 2010

I hate sleeping in new places. There's always the aching awareness that I am not at home.  Home being where I have/am accustomed to laying my head for the past week.

5. I hate that I keep having the compulsion to post something vulnerable and truthful (to be real, man) and then have the urge to "revert post back to draft" when I reread it not a week later. Because sometimes when I see other people pour their hearts out in a face book status I admire/appreciate their abiilty to put themselves out there. But other times it's like, oh my god, cut the sap.  The hope that someone out there you know is reading, the fear that they are. 

6. I just came back from microwaving leftover pudding from my banana cream pie endeavor.  Except now that I'm back I don't know what impelled me to walk over to the refrigerator at that moment. Hunger, obviously, but I had been lazy enough to ignore that all morning.  What electrical current sped over my synapses so that I decided to stand up and walk away mid-thought?

7. Funny how I hated writing in 5th grade and on when we had to keep "lifebooks" and we did all those exercises like zoom in/zoom out and just writing writing writing raw raw raw anything and everything.  And I realize, sometimes you just need to write every single thought and detail in your mind to exercise the path from thought to word.  It would be lovely and ego-stroking if there was someone there to actually read each and every one of these asinine thoughts, but it's more about the flow flow flow and maybe someday when you go back and reread you will find some rocks that could be worthy of polishing.

8.  I'm willing to suffer for my art, she said, as she slowly cut each finger off, knuckle by knuckle. 

I don't like painted pumpkins

If I were Larry David or Seinfeld, it would be funny that I'm griping about such asinine things.  But I'm not, so it's not.


I hate painted pumpkins.  They annoy me so much.  Call me narrow-minded, but I feel that pumpkins are strictly to be carved if they are to be made into decorations.  At least that way it utilizes and showcases the hollow nature of the gourd, especially when a glowing candle is placed inside. When you paint it, it just feels like such a waste, a superficial film of illustration while its insides of pulp and seeds lay rotting.  When you could've made bland roasted pumpkin seeds.  You might as well just paint a solid rock.  Those were never alive.


side note: In elementary school they never let me eat pumpkin seeds because they were afraid I was allergic to them, nut allergy-afflicted child that I was. 

10:30 PM at Kinko's

Standing in Kinko's waiting for their "print and go" app to load at a tortuously slow pace, not even the free wifi is helping, already feeling violated having spent $4.32 on the pay .30/min rental computer only to print out a singe resume after debating whether or not to spend $18.60 on color printing 18 pages of single-sided line sheets and deciding no, there's got to be a better way...while employee #1 with the thick rectangular black frame glasses and energetic black hair vacuums and cheerfully chastises himself for "missing that corner again" spitting out sparse raucous laughter while muzak plays faintly in the background and the employee #2 with the blonde Brillo pad hair and wire-rimmed glasses responds in the high-pitched voice that yes, backstabbing in Call of Duty is indeed a clever strategic maneuver... or maybe he said never really played it...I don't remember...

Never have I felt more like Walter White or Joseph Gordon-Levitt in Looper or any other violent but artsy thriller/crime/drama at that point in the plot where it's the calm before the storm or the calm right after the storm where they're sitting in a empty diner swirling their barely-touched coffee or buying snacks at a dusty gas station when they are just about to kill some people and abandon their partners in crime and loved ones or right after they did.

The app finally did load but my document didn't so I left defeated with 5 minutes left until closing.


My heart still pains from spending 5 dollars to print a single sheet of paper.

I don't like The Script

What? The last post I wrote was nearly twenty days ago? I honestly do have a lot of ideas to scribble down but lose momentum by the time I remember how to log in.  Seriously, the hardest part about keeping up with a blog is logging in.  I think there's an app that makes it simple to just stream a thought straight to the blog without coming to blogger but I'm too lazy too look right now.  Plus, sometimes I need pictures.


Anyways, I don't like The Script.  I find their melodies boring and depressing because they're boring in an easy listening Adult Contemporary kind of way. Just thinking about it puts me in the waiting room of the dentist's office.  Like if you listen to The Script you probably like The Bee Gees and Shania Twain.

Except these days I'm loathe to declare I hate something not because it's juvenile but because it always results in the impulse of exploring said loathed object until I love it (see: olives, coconuts, onions, kanye west).

Other People's Jewelry: Miansai

Jewelry for boys, by a boy. Loved by all.  It makes me a little sad that for all the beautiful delicate jewelry a lot of female designers make--dainty champion Catbird is the prime example--boys have an uncanny ability to make universal hardy pieces. Pieces that are inspired by hardware and industrial parts without being directly derivative.  Pieces with enough heft and the proper proportions so that the average man that isn't Liberace or Johnny Depp would actually want to wear it, and that women love to steal.  Pieces that can easily adorn a thicker wrist and endure the rough-and-tumble of manual labor and general careless bumping around. Because menswear automatically translates to unisex.  Womenswear tends to be relegated to the pink side of the pond--unless you're Kanye West.


I want this,

The Naomi Cuff

And this.

The Reeve Cuff

That is all.

(find them on miansai.com)

Outfits from January 2010

outfits

1. flowery liberty blouse with brown jumper (inspired by the homely outfits the women wear in Lars and the Real Girl)

2. 60s shift with white shirt and blue tights (Audrey Hepburn meets kindergarten)

3. sheer blue with white skirt (ballerina)

4. sheer black with white skirt ( dark ballerina)

5. pink dress with white tights and ferragamos (inspired by Wendy from Peter Pan the Disney animated version)

6. sweater dress with white shirt and magenta tights (all girls school uniform)

20 (I only made it to 8)

Sitting in my drafts folder since 2010

I wrote a list of 18 things when I turned 18 so there's a lot of pressure to make this more sophisticated and whatnot (am I older, wiser?) but the truth is it's just not going to come out that way.  I'm just making different, not wiser revelations.  Happy golden 20th anyways.

Truths

1. Sometimes I avoid the things I love/anticipate the most because I know it's going to be too much and I'm gonna want to absorb it too fast and I'm not ready yet.  So I just pretend it doesn't exist yet.
**and the thought that a million people are out there loving it is too.much. (hello new harry potter books, vampire weekend records, kanye west records, regina spektor records, daft punk records)

2. I like all things lemon and lime related.

3.  Shopping is fun but it should not be considered a hobby.

4. I think it would be a lot easier to be a human if people were just to sit for a moment and delineate between what they want to want to do (think about that for a moment)  and what they really want to do during their lives.  Being a doctor is all well and noble but sometimes you just want to be a freelance writer. Follow your passion, it'll save you a lot of circling back 10, 20 years from now.

5. Unless your aspiration is to be a dog whisperer or play techno-calypso music--in that case nevermind--take that job on Wall Street. Eating is nice.

6.  I find lots of cliches to be true and useful (well duh, they became cliches somehow).  But it takes arriving at that particular milestone in your life to wholly imbibe the meaning and meaningfulness of said cliches.

7.  I can see that at age 20, I have not matured beyond using the very eloquent word of "duh."

8.  I like simple pleasures, the little things.  A stick of gum, a cancelled appointment, nice weather, the relieved feeling after...relieving yourself #urine.