Can we just talk about the problem with spelling and grammar people have on facebook? I know your hands move faster than your brains, but come on, did you really just leave out a vital word in that sentence?
The great (or not so great) thing is that we all know what the intended message was anyway. But is that just an excuse for laziness, for a lack of thoughtfulness, an excuse for people to stop paying attention and being mindful?
I hate facebook because we just go through these motions and it's not us. it's not the reality and even if it is we just don't care enough to have a legitimate interaction.
I miss humans. Straight-talking real life, let's go to the museum and pretend to be smart humans. Whatever happened to dates!? Let's talk about that.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
things i miss
it's sad to say, but it's so so true. i miss the library. i miss the way it smells and the cozy lighting and the bright lights in the stacks, i miss it all. the library was reason numero uno why i chose denison. i miss it. i miss the people and the laughs and the silly faces as morning came closer. i miss all nighters and the stinky couch in the bullsheet office. i miss running into everyone i loved in one day. i miss that the most. i miss feeling so important even though i wasn't. i miss feeling like i had direction, like i was going somewhere. it's like someone just uprooted the rest of my tracks and i'm here at a stand-still. i need to write. i need to send my writing to be published. i need to sing in public. i'm going to find a band when i get to columbus. i need to do things that make me feel productive and as much as it may not follow other peoples' goals for me, productivity does not exist behind a desk in a flourescent-lit office for me. productivity may not be in helping others realize their goals right now for me, it may not be writing for a magazine or publishing, it may not be graphic design.
yesterday as i complained about how boring work was to my dad and how today i would have a twelve hour day because of this class i'm taking tonight he said "welcome to the working world". i cried. i know i'm lame, but i did because i refuse to believe that this is reality for me for the rest of my life. i absolutely refuse it. i am going to love what i do. i will. i am going to travel and not be locked into a 50- hour work week for the rest of my life in the same damn place and then settle down and pop out babies. that is not my life. and for someone who sees such wonderful things for my life to welcome me to 12 hour days doing shit work that i loathe ... i know he didn't mean it that way but i saw it as a way to wake myself up.
i'm going to be poor. i'm going to not be able to have the things i'm used to. i'm going to be hungry and i'm going to be cold and out of those places, the lowest deep down depths, there i will find myself. there i will strip away all the fluff that is masquerading as me right now and i will get to the core of myself and begin to write again and it will be brilliant and i will publish it. and i cannot do that if i am working a comfortable office job doing menial work that i do not care about. i do not want to live one day of my life doing something that i do not care about. passion is so vital to who i am.
there are a lot of things i miss. a lot of people i miss. if i could just get one day back to relive, just one winter day at denison, when it's snowing outside of the library, with hot coffee in my hand and a red hat on my head and smiles everywhere. contentment. that's what i miss, utter contentment. nothing was so hard i couldn't do it, nothing was so easy i was bored. everything was just right. and right now i feel simultaneously bored out of my mind and in a paralytic state because life is so looming and hard. all i want to do is play. and write. and hold hands. i just need to realize that i can do those things anywhere, not just at denison, i guess i'm mourning the loss of four years in one place that i grew to love deeply. even though we're supposed to move on to bigger better things, a period of grief is important.
the horizon is not too far.
yesterday as i complained about how boring work was to my dad and how today i would have a twelve hour day because of this class i'm taking tonight he said "welcome to the working world". i cried. i know i'm lame, but i did because i refuse to believe that this is reality for me for the rest of my life. i absolutely refuse it. i am going to love what i do. i will. i am going to travel and not be locked into a 50- hour work week for the rest of my life in the same damn place and then settle down and pop out babies. that is not my life. and for someone who sees such wonderful things for my life to welcome me to 12 hour days doing shit work that i loathe ... i know he didn't mean it that way but i saw it as a way to wake myself up.
i'm going to be poor. i'm going to not be able to have the things i'm used to. i'm going to be hungry and i'm going to be cold and out of those places, the lowest deep down depths, there i will find myself. there i will strip away all the fluff that is masquerading as me right now and i will get to the core of myself and begin to write again and it will be brilliant and i will publish it. and i cannot do that if i am working a comfortable office job doing menial work that i do not care about. i do not want to live one day of my life doing something that i do not care about. passion is so vital to who i am.
there are a lot of things i miss. a lot of people i miss. if i could just get one day back to relive, just one winter day at denison, when it's snowing outside of the library, with hot coffee in my hand and a red hat on my head and smiles everywhere. contentment. that's what i miss, utter contentment. nothing was so hard i couldn't do it, nothing was so easy i was bored. everything was just right. and right now i feel simultaneously bored out of my mind and in a paralytic state because life is so looming and hard. all i want to do is play. and write. and hold hands. i just need to realize that i can do those things anywhere, not just at denison, i guess i'm mourning the loss of four years in one place that i grew to love deeply. even though we're supposed to move on to bigger better things, a period of grief is important.
the horizon is not too far.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Gentiles
Let's reflect for a moment on my life thus far - first boyfriend, gentile. second serious boyfriend, jewish. third - gentile. and from there the rest are jewish with a gentile thrown in here or there but the majority of my dating life has been laden with bagels and yom tov's.
I've dated jewish so many times that I even know some hebrew, what is kosher for passover and when the major holidays are. Probably more than those boys can say about their minimal knowledge of my santa-loving, jesus-believing religion. Dating across the religious spectrum though has allowed me to realize and confirm my own beliefs and create my own spiritualism.
Regardless, I never fail to be the shiksa-wannabe in the crowd without even trying. I swear, it's not like I'm seeking these situations out and sometimes (okay most of the time) I feel really isolated because of the closeness of Jewish people, especially Buffalo Jews (ie. my friends). they all know each other! they all went to camp together! their brothers and sisters know each other! I can say for absolute certainty that that is not how it was for me and my Christian brethren. we did the whole sunday school thing but I was not nearly as invested in forming life-long family-linked friendships with these people simply because we both believe in Jesus, Santa and Mary. It becomes awkward sometimes and I feel like an impostor because who would assume the girl who hangs out with all Jewish people who knew each other at birth and appears to be Jewish on the outside really is the odd-man out? And let's be real, I can put on a good show, not purposefully, just based on the knowledge I have accrued thanks to my relationships.
Can't wait to return to Denidoo's New England-style white Euro-gentile laden land. Hello Big Red Weekend, thanks for opening your arms to me. Seriously, college was the one time when I wasn't constantly surrounded by a group of jewish friends who had known each other forever and I still dated and befriended those of the Moses persuasion.
**Disclaimer: none of this post is meant to insult, degrade or emotionally harm anyone person or peoples. I love all people, but you have to admit the uncanniness of my life-long jewdar.
I've dated jewish so many times that I even know some hebrew, what is kosher for passover and when the major holidays are. Probably more than those boys can say about their minimal knowledge of my santa-loving, jesus-believing religion. Dating across the religious spectrum though has allowed me to realize and confirm my own beliefs and create my own spiritualism.
Regardless, I never fail to be the shiksa-wannabe in the crowd without even trying. I swear, it's not like I'm seeking these situations out and sometimes (okay most of the time) I feel really isolated because of the closeness of Jewish people, especially Buffalo Jews (ie. my friends). they all know each other! they all went to camp together! their brothers and sisters know each other! I can say for absolute certainty that that is not how it was for me and my Christian brethren. we did the whole sunday school thing but I was not nearly as invested in forming life-long family-linked friendships with these people simply because we both believe in Jesus, Santa and Mary. It becomes awkward sometimes and I feel like an impostor because who would assume the girl who hangs out with all Jewish people who knew each other at birth and appears to be Jewish on the outside really is the odd-man out? And let's be real, I can put on a good show, not purposefully, just based on the knowledge I have accrued thanks to my relationships.
Can't wait to return to Denidoo's New England-style white Euro-gentile laden land. Hello Big Red Weekend, thanks for opening your arms to me. Seriously, college was the one time when I wasn't constantly surrounded by a group of jewish friends who had known each other forever and I still dated and befriended those of the Moses persuasion.
**Disclaimer: none of this post is meant to insult, degrade or emotionally harm anyone person or peoples. I love all people, but you have to admit the uncanniness of my life-long jewdar.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Fonts
Do you think the creators of Google ever regret using that font? They're stuck with it forever now ... what is it, a Helvetica, it's not Times ... regardless they are trapped in that font choice until Yahoo or Bing surpass them - which, let's be real, will never happen.
I wonder what happens when you choose a font for your brand and then you decide five years later once you're a big corporation that you despise that font and that it doesn't really represent the values you once held.
I spend a lot of time thinking.
I have finally gotten to a place where I feel exactly like myself. I'm ready to go out and be outgoing and independent and introduce myself to people on the street that I don't know it's like that story SJ wrote about me, I feel like that person again. Let's buy some flowers and give them to strangers! Let's go to parties where we don't know a soul! Let's make new friends! Let's climb the waterfront tower and sing songs together! Let's run around the city and take pictures!
I want an adventure and I want it now.
In other news: Who will go with me to Wordstock in Portland? I'm considering driving, but I also have this Delta ticket to use so if you want to go with me, I'll split your plane ticket with you cause I don't have to pay for mine! And we can camp!
Wonderful things lie ahead waiting for me
I wonder what happens when you choose a font for your brand and then you decide five years later once you're a big corporation that you despise that font and that it doesn't really represent the values you once held.
I spend a lot of time thinking.
I have finally gotten to a place where I feel exactly like myself. I'm ready to go out and be outgoing and independent and introduce myself to people on the street that I don't know it's like that story SJ wrote about me, I feel like that person again. Let's buy some flowers and give them to strangers! Let's go to parties where we don't know a soul! Let's make new friends! Let's climb the waterfront tower and sing songs together! Let's run around the city and take pictures!
I want an adventure and I want it now.
In other news: Who will go with me to Wordstock in Portland? I'm considering driving, but I also have this Delta ticket to use so if you want to go with me, I'll split your plane ticket with you cause I don't have to pay for mine! And we can camp!
Wonderful things lie ahead waiting for me
Thursday, September 2, 2010
little things
As I plugged my phone into the charger tonight I leaned a little farther than I usually do and there was the gold band bracelet I had lost for about a month now. At first I was extremely upset about losing this bracelet, it's awesome and I love it and it was a constant reminder my graduation since it is probably the last thing I will have ever purchased from the gypsies.
Sad, morbid. True.
Alas, after a couple days of moping, or rather blaming my moping on the bracelet, I decided there were bigger fish to fry, er, cry over, er, spilled milk? Meh. You know.
SO I returned to my adolescent adage of, set it free and forget it, if you're supposed to have it, it will come back to you somehow if not, forget about it. This is a motto that got me through some pretty big losses. That rubberband I lost to a rainstorm, I had written the last stanza to Anne Sexton's "Wanting to Die" on it ... sad, morbid, true. It had also gotten me through to loss of a really awesome grey beanie with a pink zipper flower on it that I never did find ... maybe a sign. And it got me through countless moments of heartache. At a very crucial point in my life when I had chosen that I was too old for this motto, that it was whimsical and nonsensical and unrealistic (redundant? perhaps.) Here it is, proving me wrong and my motto right (really a win-win situation for me since I'm wrong and right either way). But I found it! And perhaps it's a sign that I need to return to my roots a little bit, embrace the good parts of my adolescent self and hold on to the sparkle magic rationale that got me through so many other hard times, why wouldn't it work now? Because I'm no longer sixteen!? Bullshit. Sparkle magic always works and I have my gold bracelet to attest to that simple truth.
Sad, morbid. True.
Alas, after a couple days of moping, or rather blaming my moping on the bracelet, I decided there were bigger fish to fry, er, cry over, er, spilled milk? Meh. You know.
SO I returned to my adolescent adage of, set it free and forget it, if you're supposed to have it, it will come back to you somehow if not, forget about it. This is a motto that got me through some pretty big losses. That rubberband I lost to a rainstorm, I had written the last stanza to Anne Sexton's "Wanting to Die" on it ... sad, morbid, true. It had also gotten me through to loss of a really awesome grey beanie with a pink zipper flower on it that I never did find ... maybe a sign. And it got me through countless moments of heartache. At a very crucial point in my life when I had chosen that I was too old for this motto, that it was whimsical and nonsensical and unrealistic (redundant? perhaps.) Here it is, proving me wrong and my motto right (really a win-win situation for me since I'm wrong and right either way). But I found it! And perhaps it's a sign that I need to return to my roots a little bit, embrace the good parts of my adolescent self and hold on to the sparkle magic rationale that got me through so many other hard times, why wouldn't it work now? Because I'm no longer sixteen!? Bullshit. Sparkle magic always works and I have my gold bracelet to attest to that simple truth.
Here's the thing
This is how it works. Find a way to be happy, hold onto it until it no longer makes you happy.
Does it really make sense to turn your back on something that makes you happy if it's not harming you?
Here's the thing, I don't want to care but I can't help it. It was always something I just couldn't help, something that was inevitable and beyond my control.
Just tell me why it makes sense to not be happy when the solution is staring you in the eyeball while you sleep at night ... hmmmmmm?
Does it really make sense to turn your back on something that makes you happy if it's not harming you?
Here's the thing, I don't want to care but I can't help it. It was always something I just couldn't help, something that was inevitable and beyond my control.
Just tell me why it makes sense to not be happy when the solution is staring you in the eyeball while you sleep at night ... hmmmmmm?
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