Saturday

can't ignore my passion for animals eating people food

immortality through monotony or singularity?

ok, so i have this friend. he's a cool friend, we have things and interests in common and we have intelligent conversations. we dress alike, which is often a harbinger of like opinions. we are from the same place and can both agree that it is cold out when other people are still wearing t-shirts and thumbing their noses at us in our parkas. he's very good with people, and has this way of talking to them that makes them feel like he has their number right from the beginning. he will say extremely accurate and surprising things about people, like john edwards. when we first started hanging out, this ability amazed me. i sort of thought he had superhuman friend powers. when people do this kind of thing, it makes you feel like a diamond in the rough; like you are so unique, only certain very rare individuals can recognize how awesome you really are. that's how i felt when i first met him, like he hung out with me for reasons that other people didn't see or weren't awesome enough to understand. but now that's wearing off and he's started seeming pretty cocky, and his supernatural knowledge of what's going on in my head makes me feel less unique and more like everyone is so similar that he can understand me by making absolutely no effort because he knows three dozen people just like me.

this is something that terrifies me; the idea that everyone is the same, and i am one of them - the only thing that makes us think we are different is advertising, or some sort of existentialist need to feel like an individual. or at least, that all boys are the same and all girls are the same and i am one of them (the girls). i vacillate between believing this and believing that most people are so unique that there is no way to really know them. for example, do you think that reading this blog gives you some sort of insight into who i am? guess what, blogging takes up about fifteen minutes of my day, and the rest of the day i am thinking about completely different things. i'm sure in the future there will be a way to be hooked up to a computer all the time from birth and then you can just hand over your data to a person on the first date and they can do the computations right there at the coffee shop and figure out if you guys should go home together, but not yet. there are a lot of existentialist personality psychologists out there who have documented these feelings; the need to avoid the fear of mortality through a. feeling like part of the mob, avoiding death through sameness or b. grandiose claims of immortality because of awesome uniqueness. but no research has actually been done to figure out whether one or the other is true, not in terms of an immortal sense but in terms of whether or not people are the same. we all think we are very different, but think about it; everyone thinks target is cool, the gap is relatively stylish, hip-hop is an incredible and modern form of expression, and new york is the place to live if you want to feel important. maybe living in portland where everyone is my age and thinks the same things about music and authors is getting to me a little.


here is another picture of nikola tesla. i still can't stop thinking about the prestige. my next blog is going to be Nikola Tesla: a Report.

magic is awesome. i saw the prestige.

today, i am doing something that i really don't like. i hate it when people see a movie and then either gush about it or revile it in their blog. i even hate it when they critique it thoughtfully. because you know what? everyone has opinions about movies, and they all want to share them with you. but i can't stop thinking about this movie. i mean, that doesn't mean it's the movie of the decade or anything - when i first saw ninja turtles I i coudn't stop thinking about it. i still think about it. but it didn't win any awards. i remember a work friend of my mom's who thought the ninja turtles were awesome took me to see it. he had all the original comic books, but i wasn't allowed to read them because i think they swear once or drink a beer. then he bought me the movie for christmas. i watched it so many times i dreamt it all the way through. i was raphael for three halloweens in a row. when we lived in the apartment on 14th avenue, the treeline outside my window vaguely resembled the outline of a giant rat's head, and i used to think splinter was trying to send me messages. one day, during a storm, i was sure he was trying to tell me he was in trouble, and i begged my mom to put me on a plane to new york so i could help him. "No way," she said. i was mad, but i'm grateful now, just like she said i would be. what business does a seven-year-old have in the sewers of new york city? the point is, we think weird things when we are little. i think that's why i liked this movie so much.

i love to suspend disbelief, to pretend that i believe in magic or candy mountain or zombie takeovers or whatever. i love to be fooled. it's a great feeling, to think things like that could happen, although now it's just for short periods at a time and it can be a disappointment when they're over. that is what this movie was all about. it was terrific. i know a couple people who have said they were disappointed, some people who i consider to be good friends. i hope they don't take offense when i say that i think that they were maybe temporarily out of their senses because it was terrific. it was seamless, which is always so impressive in a movie. there wasn't a moment that wasn't important to the movie as a whole. i believed in a lot of things, some of which tied in to actual history and made me want to learn about things i'm usually not interested in at all. scarlett johanssen was in it but she didn't even matter. it was amazing.

i guess i feel okay about writing about this movie because this post is less about the movie than it is about how most of the time, i really wish magic was real.


this is a picture of nikola tesla. i can't tell you why i put it on here but you should just see the movie. david bowie is in it.

Thursday

you go.

dead tree. unicorn. crossed swords.


this is a drawing of a dead tree. i didn't do it, i just found it on the internet. i really like pictures of dead trees - i have a couple hanging around, and they always catch my eye. i don't think i'm the only one, because during my search for "dead tree," i found at least five websites that are dedicated to dead trees. also, nike has an image of a dead tree that you can use to customize a shoe, so it's probably more popular than i ever knew.

i designed these shoes today.

check out the custom crest. yes! it also says my name, and my favorite number, 27. well, maybe that's my favorite number. i'm also considering 18 and 22. 18 is a multiple of a bunch of things and 22 was a really good age for me, probably mostly because of the stooges song 1969. i am not considering 13, even though that is my birthday and if i remember correctly also a really good age for me, because that is a pretty typical favorite number to have because it is unlucky and people like to defy tradition by directly opposing it, which i think is one of the most typical and boring things to do. but i think i will pick 27 because i'd like to have a number on there that's an age i haven't been yet and i'd like to have something to look forward to. i haven't been this excited about a pair of shoes in a long time. when i have enough money, i'm going to buy them. man, i hope they don't suck. that's one thing about the internet; you get really excited about something and imagine yourself having it and how it's going to solve a lot of problems for you, and then you get it and it kind of sucks, but returning it involves sending something in the mail and every time you go to the post office your blind high school english teacher, who has actually had a pretty big influence on your life, is there and you have an awkward conversation with her because what are you going to tell her? that she inspired you? she is a pretty practical person and she would just laugh that off and make you look small. so, you keep it, but never, ever wear or use it because you're ashamed.


this is a dog dressed as a unicorn. i'm going to say it's the funniest thing i've seen all day, probably because the dog looks so unhappy to be dressed up as something magical. also, i think it's pretty funny when people dress up their pets and take pictures or just take regular pictures of their pets and put them on the internet. it's not something i really do, but i think it can provide terrific examples of how much weird stuff is on the internet. maybe i'll start taking pictures of other peoples' pets and putting them on the internet. this came up as a result under a search for "unicorn."

i don't care that the shoes' colors are patriotic, because you know what? i am a patriot. it's lame that patriotism is connected to supporting the bush administration and the war in iraq because america is a pretty great country in a lot of ways. the library system, voting, being a girl and walking down the street wearing regular clothes, saying whatever you want either in the street or on the internet (i have a feeling it's pretty hard to regulate diaries, not that they would be allowed to if they found a way). in texas, they drink coke for breakfast and nobody bats an eye. sure, our president is kind of a jerk on an international level and a lot of people in this country are way into nascar and we pollute more than anyone else, but there are a lot of good people here who don't support that and i for one really appreciate a lot of things about being an american.


this is a statue called "hands of victory," which Saddam had built to commemorate his victory over Iran. at the base of the statues are 5,000 Iranian helmets taken as trophies from the battlefield. this came up as a result in a search for "crossed swords."

Wednesday

fame

jake was in the paper twice in the last two weeks:

for his trip to ethiopia
for the wires

what have i done lately? well, i did start this blog. and i spent a lot of time thinking about rockets. pew! pew! pew!

yesssss



way to rep it. we from your hood are so proud of you. i mean, i guess your hood is technically baltimore, but we in the bay have been living it up under your thumb for a while now and we are proud to see that thumb get way bigger. congratulations, you are now the most powerful woman in the world. i sincerely regret picking dianne feinstein to do my project on for the famous womens' tea in 4th grade. actually, i don't because my mom knew her and it made her feel good and she gave me a signed 8x10 glossy for my poster and i learned a lot about harvey milk, but i am still proud of you.

my kind of party.

being mean, or being awesome?

i have been thinking a lot about being a mean person. sometimes, i am a mean person. i get really passive-aggressive with people who tailgate; i like to slow down until i can see their upset faces in the rearview mirror, and then when they try to pass me i speed up so they can't. eventually, you have to let them go, because they are like a lit fuse and they might just pull a gun or ram you, but not before you flip them the bird. i let my bosses have it when they try to talk to me about work while i am at lunch. the hell! that is my time and i don't care if i am just using it to stare into space or think about rockets, i am not going to talk to you. i made fun of the girl who made out with someone in my roommate's bed during our party, pretty much to her face (to her internet face). but i'm okay with these things. doing them feels good and i don't regret them.

what does make me feel bad, though, is saying mean things about people that i don't really hate that much, even if they have been mean to me. i feel like i complain a lot, and throw little things way out of proportion when people nod their heads at what i'm saying. i also gossip about people i actually like. i think that this makes me a bad person. also, being rude to people i don't know just because i'm in a bad mood. most people are just regular people like me, who are trying just as hard as i am. they just want to get home and play rpgs or take pictures of their cat and put them on the internet or fondle their sweaters or whatever they're into. being polite to strangers can really make everyone's day - that's something you learn when you are a waitress. there is just no reason to be mean to people you don't know (unless they've done something to you, like cut you in line at the india cart). one time i was really nice at the airport and a guy upgraded me to first class. being nice can do awesome things for you. being mean makes you a bad person.

sometimes i will go through a period where i try to be a better person, and it goes really well. i spent like two months like that, saying nice things about people instead of mean things and only gossiping about celebrities (that's okay because they expect it. it still might make them feel bad to know some of the opinions people have about their lives, or maybe a little hassled, but they know it's going to happen when they embark on a career that they hope will bring them fame and money) and then a couple fridays ago i just exploded. i could feel it coming - i had this insane urge to say the sassiest things to everyone. i cursed at the cat and shook my fist at other drivers and told my bosses "no" when they asked me to do things that weren't exactly within the boundaries of my job description. then we had a party, and the cops came twice, so when my roommates disappeared i turned the front yard into a police state. i swore at people and did this really scary fake smile and i even pushed one dude. pushed him! when one roommate approached me and showed concern for my lack of politeness to our 200+ guests, i pretty much told him to stuff it. i feel bad about that, but i do not feel bad for a single other thing i said or did. i relive some of my more glorious moments every day. i really want to be a good person, but i'm just not sure it's possible. being mean can be totally awesome.

Tuesday

please stop thinking you are correcting me



i know this is not urkel. i know it is from a spike lee movie. i even know which one. i am not totally stupid or incompetent at the internet, so please stop correcting me. i will tell you a secret: i know just as much about pop culture as you do, but i let you go on about it because it makes you feel good. there, now you know.

also, you have to admit it looks a hell of a lot like urkel. but it's not. and i know that, and now you know i knew, but i wanted to tell you that i always knew.

today, it did not rain too much.

this is my first blog. i am not going to do a whole "so i am new to this blogging idea, these are the things i'm into so this is what i will be blogging about" kind of spiel. the internet is full of those, so just find someone who dresses kind of like me and you will get the idea.

let's start with some things i have been thinking about. i tutor two kids - one is in 8th grade, one is in high school. neither of them thinks i am very cool. i mean, i'm a tutor, of course i love school and of course i'm a nerd. i'm not exactly pocket-protector material, but nobody wants my autograph, either, least of all the kids i tutor. what am i supposed to do about this? i want them to like me. everyone wants other people to like them. that is the point of interacting with other people. but i also get excited about their math homework. the 8th grader is okay, because at least she still thinks it's cool that i'm way older than her and drive a car. those things are all big deals for someone who is in 8th grade. maybe tomorrow i will tell her that sometimes i eat ice cream for breakfast and go to a bunch of r-rated movies. but the high schooler just plain thinks i am lame. if she were older, i could explain to her that in college the meek inherit the earth and the people who were popular in high school get laughed at, but first of all she is still kind of too young to understand that and it would just make her laugh harder at me and second of all it's not really that true. it's a little true if you are into the music scene, but outside three-hundred level classes and the radio station, it's still pretty much like high school. what's even worse is that she is an extremely stylish high-schooler. she's got this leather bag and a ton of designer clothes and a louis vuitton day planner. so i've been pretty much pretending that i don't buy my clothes at thrift stores and that she thinks my jokes are funny. also, i have been sort of letting her get away with manipulating me into doing her math homework for her. just a little bit though. but then today the solution occurred to me: i could do my job! if i make her do her work and review for all her tests and quizzes and not lie to me and her parents about what is due when and whether she's done it or not, she will get better grades and i will prove to her that it is not about being stylish. it is about being smart, and being smart is being cool. or at least getting good grades means she will not be grounded all the time, and then she can do cool stuff like go shopping for more designer things. i guess i would just be satisfied with commanding a little respect.