today i opted to sleep that extra 20 seconds it would have taken to put a smidgen of effort into a costume. instead, i threw on the blue renaissance faire shawl thing and called it a holiday.
walking onto campus is like walking into a Spirit Halloween store or something. these people really go for it. those little costumes that make you look like a little person riding an ostrich- nine piece ensembles- costumes that require very specific and strange hats... i wonder if these people have special rooms in their houses dedicated to storing these once a year outfits.
and then there was me. i was rocking the space where people could tell i had put SOME kind of effort into my costume but obviously not enough to really BE anything. this is the kind of special space where people don't really bother to ask "what are you?"
Except one. One student asked.
"I'm comfortable," I said.
Later, M texts me. She was working at the school when I rocked my other go-to costume, a paper weight (in which I stand on a piece of paper when asked).
M: I heard you were tunic lady :)
me: Bahaha! Indeed. Everyone was shocked and amazed. They couldn't believe the innovation and vision.
M: You would've won the costume contest... why didn't you compete?
me: I'm already so popular, it hardly seemed fair to everyone else.
happy weenie.
another year.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Saturday, October 26, 2013
if you don't know
Don Draper, you kill me.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/15741
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/15741
the hardest part
the so small sphere
the impossible distance from there to here
an intersection of opposing lines
that meet sometimes
sometimes
"sometimes i feel like i'll float away if Don isn't holding me down"
"the hardest part is realizing you're in charge" (2:10)
i can barely look at her
her face is haunted by the structure of another
but oh, her heart
how her heart and mine could talk
talk ourselves true
*disclaimer- I wrote this during Season 2 or something. I haven't quite lost my mind like she does in later seasons.
the impossible distance from there to here
an intersection of opposing lines
that meet sometimes
sometimes
"sometimes i feel like i'll float away if Don isn't holding me down"
"the hardest part is realizing you're in charge" (2:10)
i can barely look at her
her face is haunted by the structure of anotherbut oh, her heart
how her heart and mine could talk
talk ourselves true
*disclaimer- I wrote this during Season 2 or something. I haven't quite lost my mind like she does in later seasons.
Friday, October 25, 2013
up
my chin is UP
i am 6 feet tall
i am a juggernaut of optimism and possibility
i am twenty times alive and
surrounded by twenty doors
all wide open
and aglow
it is my reason
my grail
my gold medal
my framed picture on the mantle
my passion
my beatrice
my friday afternoon with the whole weekend ahead
my focus
my everything burrito
and it is all right on time
(to wake up and to BE alive)
i am 6 feet tall
i am a juggernaut of optimism and possibility
i am twenty times alive and
surrounded by twenty doors
all wide open
and aglow
it is my reason
my grail
my gold medal
my framed picture on the mantle
my passion
my beatrice
my friday afternoon with the whole weekend ahead
my focus
my everything burrito
and it is all right on time
(to wake up and to BE alive)
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
friendship
Everyone thinks they know what they value in other people. Questions like, "what traits to you value most in a friend" always have smushygushy answers like "authenticity" or "honesty" or "humor" or whatever. But really, how do you even measure any of those things? How can you analyze a person's level of authenticity? TRULY measure honesty? Humor is subjective. I mean, c'mon.
What we really mean is that we like people who are like us in ways that make us feel good about ourselves, or who are different from us in complimentary ways that also make us feel good about ourselves.
We like people that make us feel good about being their friends.
We like people we like.
The end.
What we really mean is that we like people who are like us in ways that make us feel good about ourselves, or who are different from us in complimentary ways that also make us feel good about ourselves.
We like people that make us feel good about being their friends.
We like people we like.
The end.
so very
often, the remedy for anxiety or ennui or melancholy is as simple as a novel.
a disappearing act for which there are few substitutes
that thin asian man talking with earnestness and deliberation about the life-changing awakening he experienced through experimenting with psychedelic drugs. he spans the whole chasm of topics, talks about how unaware so many of us remain for our whole lives because we so easily buy in to what we are told or conditioned to believe. the thing is, the guy sounds enlightened. like, the whole "vibe" thing, he has it. he has the "i am operating from a different plain than most" vibe that makes me so curious. it's like the religious cloud i used to walk on, but devoid of the religiousness. just an... awareness.
that parking citation on the red car outside
and those people who do not pay: are they outlaws? idealists?
and those people who do pay: upstanding citizens? blind conformists?
existentialism & the part of me that understands the function and need for larger systems of order
& the other part of me that wants to challenge it all
tomorrow i have to call Lucy Lu's guardians and tell them that she is habitual cheater. that i have to stand over her like a hawk. that she is not only a cheater, but that she is a TERRIBLE cheater. that if she insists on being a cheater, she must try harder at it. she cannot fail at studying AND cheating- there are only so many levels of failure an ego can maintain.
it is far too easy to just do as we are told. to laugh at things we are conditioned to identify as funny. to buy things when they are packaged in certain ways that appeal to our age, race, class, and gender demographics. all of it. it is so easy to be a cog in the machine. it takes no thought at all and there is so very little risk.
Ruth at the counter in a red knitted sweater.
twenty-five definitions of feminism.
they make spray called Poo-pouri to spray into the toilet pre-shit to eliminate any proof of your humanity. we are so afraid of ourselves.
doing a jigsaw puzzle at midnight. in some space. talking little. thinking if i died right then and there that would be ok.
harsh, birdlike. aquiline, if you'd prefer. i learned that word in the reader's digest vocabulary quiz a very long time ago.
another egg bids farewell.
we are so very fast asleep and so very very tired.
a disappearing act for which there are few substitutes
that thin asian man talking with earnestness and deliberation about the life-changing awakening he experienced through experimenting with psychedelic drugs. he spans the whole chasm of topics, talks about how unaware so many of us remain for our whole lives because we so easily buy in to what we are told or conditioned to believe. the thing is, the guy sounds enlightened. like, the whole "vibe" thing, he has it. he has the "i am operating from a different plain than most" vibe that makes me so curious. it's like the religious cloud i used to walk on, but devoid of the religiousness. just an... awareness.
that parking citation on the red car outside
and those people who do not pay: are they outlaws? idealists?
and those people who do pay: upstanding citizens? blind conformists?
existentialism & the part of me that understands the function and need for larger systems of order
& the other part of me that wants to challenge it all
tomorrow i have to call Lucy Lu's guardians and tell them that she is habitual cheater. that i have to stand over her like a hawk. that she is not only a cheater, but that she is a TERRIBLE cheater. that if she insists on being a cheater, she must try harder at it. she cannot fail at studying AND cheating- there are only so many levels of failure an ego can maintain.
it is far too easy to just do as we are told. to laugh at things we are conditioned to identify as funny. to buy things when they are packaged in certain ways that appeal to our age, race, class, and gender demographics. all of it. it is so easy to be a cog in the machine. it takes no thought at all and there is so very little risk.
Ruth at the counter in a red knitted sweater.
twenty-five definitions of feminism.
they make spray called Poo-pouri to spray into the toilet pre-shit to eliminate any proof of your humanity. we are so afraid of ourselves.
doing a jigsaw puzzle at midnight. in some space. talking little. thinking if i died right then and there that would be ok.
harsh, birdlike. aquiline, if you'd prefer. i learned that word in the reader's digest vocabulary quiz a very long time ago.
another egg bids farewell.
we are so very fast asleep and so very very tired.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
causes
It seemed like the Michigan State campus was always full of chanting groups of people holding signs. There were sorority shenanigans and whatnot- people with petitions to sign- and there was almost ALWAYS a group of people with signs protesting outside of the GAP.
On one particular morning was one of those particular moments when you are able to step outside of your current moment and view present self as a speck among many past and future specks. On that particular morning, I remember feeling really young- like my whole life was ahead of me- life my mind was a just-opened jar of play-do that hadn't dried out from being left out or been mixed with other colors. Just... fresh. And on that freshest of mornings with my freshie fresh mind at work, I passed that group of protesters or supporters or what-have-you and I wondered to myself what MY cause would be. It seemed like everyone at some point gravitated to a cause that they felt driven to center themselves around. Government or religion or vegetarianism or quantum-physics or... and endless endless list of sometimes competing and sometimes complimentary causes.
At 30, I can say that I still don't know what my cause is. I mean, I certainly have a penchant for joining up with large groups or organizations. NET, TFA... the whole first half of my 20s was spent sporting t-shirts for large collectives of the religious or education/political type. Since then, I've wandered about as far away from both sets of "ideals" as possible. Even though I was technically a part of those larger groups, I never had the sense of belonging that had me going back for more. I was always very much ME within those larger labels... and when I left, the labels were just something on a resume.
I don't think I REALLY have the desire to be a banner holder. I'm either disillusioned or realistic enough to think that holding a sign and wearing a promo t-shirt doesn't really affect much. And, although I feel very passionately toward a number of subjects or issues, I am also acutely aware that that intensity can be very easily altered, or even reversed when new information or experience enters the picture.
I think it's OK and probably incredibly important to allow yourself to gravitate toward subjects or causes that make you feel more deeply connected to yourself and a larger community. Like, TREMENDOUSLY important. Because really, we create our own sense of purpose and meaning in our little limited bubbles of existence.
But that really wonderful drive to belong or invest or experience passion becomes really dangerous when it's from the perspective of an "i'm right, you're wrong" perspective. that's when the focus of belonging becomes the exclusion of others. it's when investment becomes more about power and getting than giving. and it's where passion becomes divorced from reason, often with devastating effects.
That's all.
My intention was to write about the other day when I drove right past a funeral I was supposed to attend and didn't even feel a little bit bad. Maybe tomorrow.
On one particular morning was one of those particular moments when you are able to step outside of your current moment and view present self as a speck among many past and future specks. On that particular morning, I remember feeling really young- like my whole life was ahead of me- life my mind was a just-opened jar of play-do that hadn't dried out from being left out or been mixed with other colors. Just... fresh. And on that freshest of mornings with my freshie fresh mind at work, I passed that group of protesters or supporters or what-have-you and I wondered to myself what MY cause would be. It seemed like everyone at some point gravitated to a cause that they felt driven to center themselves around. Government or religion or vegetarianism or quantum-physics or... and endless endless list of sometimes competing and sometimes complimentary causes.
At 30, I can say that I still don't know what my cause is. I mean, I certainly have a penchant for joining up with large groups or organizations. NET, TFA... the whole first half of my 20s was spent sporting t-shirts for large collectives of the religious or education/political type. Since then, I've wandered about as far away from both sets of "ideals" as possible. Even though I was technically a part of those larger groups, I never had the sense of belonging that had me going back for more. I was always very much ME within those larger labels... and when I left, the labels were just something on a resume.
I don't think I REALLY have the desire to be a banner holder. I'm either disillusioned or realistic enough to think that holding a sign and wearing a promo t-shirt doesn't really affect much. And, although I feel very passionately toward a number of subjects or issues, I am also acutely aware that that intensity can be very easily altered, or even reversed when new information or experience enters the picture.
I think it's OK and probably incredibly important to allow yourself to gravitate toward subjects or causes that make you feel more deeply connected to yourself and a larger community. Like, TREMENDOUSLY important. Because really, we create our own sense of purpose and meaning in our little limited bubbles of existence.
But that really wonderful drive to belong or invest or experience passion becomes really dangerous when it's from the perspective of an "i'm right, you're wrong" perspective. that's when the focus of belonging becomes the exclusion of others. it's when investment becomes more about power and getting than giving. and it's where passion becomes divorced from reason, often with devastating effects.
That's all.
My intention was to write about the other day when I drove right past a funeral I was supposed to attend and didn't even feel a little bit bad. Maybe tomorrow.
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