Mi Barrio Del Baila

Watch the Film | Girl Walk // All Day

http://girlwalkallday.com/watch-the-film

Credit Where It's Due

Serena:  it was all just a failed attempt to time travel 

Serena:  i mean, i've been on this ride before

Serena:  if you keep doing what you've always done, you'll keep getting what you've always gotten

Checking Yourself Before Wrecking Yourself

Bioluminescence

Sentimentality and Other Traits Darwin Forgot to Account For

It should be noted that of all the human traits, Sentimentality is the most jealous. No matter how many times you cheat on it with impulse or beer, it always comes back. And usually with a vengeance. Somehow, Sentimentality continues to believe in you and is certain that the love you two share on lonely nights is enough, and because of that, it can't leave you. It won't leave you. Actually, Sentimentality will be goddamned if you think it's going to leave you, because it knows that secretly, or maybe not so secretly, you feel the same way. You may not say it enough--or at all--but Sentimentality knows. Sentimentality sees that dreamy face you make when those songs come on at the bar or on the radio in the car or on that obscure Pandora station you created partly to evade Sentimentality in the first place. And that's why Sentimentality sticks around. Because of the history you two have. Because of the future you two created long ago. Because that history and that future you both can't let go of has turned into the present, and you're stuck in it. And just when Sentimentality starts to wear you down enough that you finally let it in and accept it as your fate, something gets in the way and that predictably sad carousel of sentimental history just stops. And you're able to let go of the painted pony you've been holding onto for dear life, forget about Sentimentality for a while, and see forests for trees again.


Cursed be he who can't remember, but blessed be he who can forget.

Money Can't Buy Happiness But it Can Buy Everything Else

Time and Thoughts About It

I've been thinking a lot lately. I've also been thinking a lot lately about time. Not in an existential way, really. More in an experiential way. I guess.

Something about this summer (and year as a whole) felt quicker than summers past, and it's the first time I've ever been sad to get older. If you know anything about me, you know how much I love the aging process. I don't presume to kid when I say that I'd rather spend my time with octogenarians than nearly anyone else, and I'm honestly looking forward to getting older myself--if for no other reason than: it's definitely going to happen, so it's better to embrace it than run from it.

And yet. And yet, this summer, I'm sad. I'm sad to grow older and subsequently grow away from my youth. I've never thought about it like that, and I'm sorry I just did, but it's the truth. The older you get, the further you grow. And, the further you grow, the less young you become. Science is a hell of a Thing.

What's more is that we seem to have surrounded ourselves with time. Literally, everywhere you look (at least in NYC), there's the time. On subway platforms, in the trains themselves, on your wrist, on your iPod, on your phone, on your computer screen, and even on the wall. You can't escape it. How many times do I turn on some device only to have to turn it back on again three seconds later because I forgot to check the time. I forgot to check the time, and it was right there!

And yet. And yet, I never seem to know what time it is. Is it possible that it's become so ubiquitous, so entirely everywhere, that Time as a Thing--a Thing Which Can Be Known--has almost completely faded into the background of my day-to-day? Has Time become a nuisance like the homeless people I pass throughout my day and give little more than a one-sided smile to, which I do to make me feel better since I know it doesn't help them in the least, but I somehow can't stop doing it, because it's my way of acknowledging that they're still People even if they don't feel like they're part of the rest of People?

No. Time isn't a nuisance. Time is a really, really big tidal wave that crashes on the shore in the middle of the night and washes every footprint and sand castle away, leaving fresh, like-new sand in its wake. The next day, you forget that there used to be sand castles where you plant your umbrella. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until suddenly, you forget that the waves come at all.

On the Significance of Accessories

"As Harold took a bite of a Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be OK. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true. And, so it was, a wristwatch saved Harold Crick."

Taken out of context, you would have no idea that Will Ferrell was Harold Crick.

John Waters + David Simon = Pink Flamingos on The Wire

I'm currently en route to Baltimore, MD, wherein I will see my long lost older sister and less long lost parents. Nobody is from Baltimore, but Baltimore is where we're going.

Becky's been living in Portland, OR, for a while now and it's been a while since we were in the same physical location. You forget how far away you are from people sometimes. You forget because of Skype and texts and very well-written emails. But you remember how far away you are when you finally get together, after all kinds of public and private transportation mediums and an unfortunate lack of travel music due to an unfortunate lack of head phones.

Public (and very affordable private) transportation is probably my favorite part of Things. It's so weird and beautiful and human to travel with strangers. It's like humanity on tour. I guess it actually is humanity on tour. Everyone gets the same kind of treatment and nobody is in charge. Even the driver becomes part of the humanity at some point in the journey. Usually, for me, that point happens when s/he pulls over to use the bathroom. That's even more human than travel.

I do my best thinking in motion. Also, my best Wikipedia research. Did you know 2Pac went to high school in Baltimore?

Senses of Humors

My Lactose > Your Lactose

White Boy Soul

Learning Experiences and Other Euphemisms for Mistakes

1. Growth Opportunities

2. Teachable Moments

3. Happy Accidents

4. "My little brother, Matt."

Things That Make You Go Hmmm

http://awesomepeoplehangingouttogether.tumblr.com/

Shaq and Dr. Ruth are my desktop background at work.

Exposing the Funk

Shorty, Don't Wait.

I wonder, I wonder.

I wanna shed my skin, my hair, my face
I've got money saved up
I can buy a new name...

But I wonder,
How many Mennonites might feel just like this?
I'll learn German, I'll teach sermons and lose my lisp...

Listen, You're Great. I Really Like You.

I just wish you were an entirely different person.

This is for all the Haters

http://dadsaretheoriginalhipster.tumblr.com/

Indifferent Cities

(Note: Emoticons can do real emotions no justice, but boys with guitars and vocal harmonies sure can)


Currently and perpetually listening to: Southern California, by Speechwriters, LLC


Sunlight hits a sign and I'm in Union Station
My arms are heavy in their sleeves
Everyone here thinks that I've been on vacation
But I don't ever seem to leave

And all that I can tell you is my love's unfocused
And drifting overseas
Head's all full of context better left unspoken
As scenes from old Pomona dreams come washing over me

No one wants to tell you just how long they've been here
The stars are crawling out their frames
The canvas on the ankle straps is wearing thin, dear
And I can't help but feel the same

When everything in town's been taken down for renovations
The hardest part is finding your way home
Freeway cuts the sky and I'm inside it's suppurations
But Southern California's got this way of creeping up on you

And all that I can tell you is my love's unfocused
And drifting overseas
Head's all full of context better left unspoken
As scenes from old Pomona dreams come washing over me

One last look around and then I'm always leaving
The stars are falling out of tune
Fingers bear the stains of shipping and receiving
These songs that carry me to you

But this is not some list of all the ways I should have loved you
Hold you in my arms and let you down
Turn my crooked smile up to the sky and I'm thinking of you
But Southern California's got me driving home in rental cars
And Southern California's got this way of tearing me and you apart

And you know it's true, California's tearing us apart
And I want it to

But all that I can tell you is my love's unfocused
And drifting overseas
Head's all full of context better left unspoken
As scenes from old Pomona dreams come washing over me...

Perspective and Other Things That Are Easy to Ignore

Hi, March. Where the hell did you come from?

February sucked, basically. Anytime it's still winter outside sucks, basically.

One positive thing about it being too cold and snowy and inhumane to be outside is all the indoor people-watching you can do.
People-watching outdoors is truly a sport in itself, but indoor people-watching is an art. You can't be obvious and you can't pretend you're really watching something else outside, because you're not outside. So, it's an art. And the best people-watching people are in New York.

Another positive thing is all the subway time you have. Public transportation, like the army, is a great equalizer.
If you're on the subway, you're at the mercy of the subway and its schedule and its smells and its weird breezes.
You're also a prime candidate for people-watching.

An idea I had the other day that came to me while staring inconspicuously at a really skinny woman who just couldn't grasp how important the subway handrails were, was to film a shit load of marbles in an empty subway car on its usual route. It might be really boring to watch, or not that lame. And that's the point.

Another idea that came to me while fighting for grip-space on that aforementioned crucial handrail was to write a spoof of "Clarissa Explains It All" about a really JAPPY girl from Long Island or Bergen County who bitches a lot called, "Marissa Complains A Lot." I was generalizing by assuming that girl's name was Marissa. Aren't they all.

Promise I'll be in a better mood just as soon as the weather stops being such a bitch.

If I'm Grandiloquent, Then You're Fustian.

I'm studying for the GRE, what's your excuse?

At the behest of my adoring public (read: Serena and Serena alone), I've decided to update myself.

1. I've had the same job for 6 consecutive months. Subsequently, I can't remember another 6 month period that made me want to cut a bitch more.


2. As a result, I've decided to go to grad school. With that, I've started studying for the GRE--hence the turgid word choice--and have realized a few things about my so-called blue ribbon public school education.


First of all, I don't even know what a "math" is. I've taken algebra for a collective 5 years (give or take). That's 1/5 of my entire life. Two of those years were in middle school where we focused on some real abstract shit that I'm only now realizing was actually math. The other years were in high school and again in college, because my SAT math scores were so laughably low that they had to make sure I could at least recognize a number if I saw one in the real world. I still have no idea what the quadratic equation is or why we suddenly switched from calling equations numeric sentences. This is as if, in the middle of dinner, someone just swoops in and takes your utensils and replaces them with scissors and glue. What the fuck is glue doing at the dinner table?

Contrarily, the verbal portion of the test is something I'm actually really looking forward to. Thanks to that same blue ribbon education, I really like words, and I really like reading and writing them. I distinctly remember D.E.A.R. time--Drop Everything And Read--when I was in elementary school. At some point every day, we'd all just read. It was amazing. We were mandated to escape into a story. So what if sometimes I re-read the same book for a month and a half. Point is, I was taught to love reading. And I do.

I wonder why I was never taught to love math/science in the same way. It's not because I don't care to love it - I do. I watched Star Trek growing up and wanted nothing more than to one day, be able to wear the same visor as Jordy (until my dad explained that Jordy wore that visor because he was blind and I saw his creepy all-white eyes - heartbreaking disappointment followed immediately thereafter). And now, as a 25 year-old, I watch The Big Bang Theory religiously and feel a real sense of embarrassing camaraderie with those geeky, math and science-inclined, weird little men.

I want to understand the world in logical, mathematical terms, but I don't. Instead, I'm pretty sure that anything with a square root is made up and if it takes more than a few tries to understand a word problem, I generally choose multiple choice answer B.

I read an article in the Wall Street Journal called, "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior" http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html and while I kind of think that's a dick thing to assert, I have to say the author made some decent points.

Her whole thesis was that Western parents are so concerned with their kids' self esteem that they essentially enable them to squander their potential. I don't mean to say my parents did that - they didn't - but I think the reason I have the strengths I do is because I was encouraged to hone my abilities in those areas, whereas if I was struggling in an area - let's call that area "math" - I was sort of lumped into a class with other kids who were also not that strong and we were taught as though we weren't going to use it anyway. Sort of like a math-for-non-majors approach, but for the basics, when we all need to develop the same baseline skills, which is the issue. If we were taught the basics in a way that was applicable as "the basics" - and not just basics for more math, which always seemed very abstruse, but for LIFE - I really think I would have more confidence in my abilities.

I don't mean to blame "the system" here. I'm not even sure who I blame. But I dare say that if after 5 years of being taught the same shit over and over and over and over and over (count them, that's 5 over's) again, I still don't get it, that's some bullshit right there.

...


3. It's been a really snowy winter.


4. I think a long distance relationship should be the punishment for some crimes.


5. Obama wants us to win the future, which I understood to mean, wear as many pairs of sweatpants during the weekdays as possible. Thanks to all that snow and my long distance relationship, 2011 is off to a strong start.


More updates and [maybe but you know what, probably not] less bitching to follow.