I believe I have admitted to knowing close to nothing about politics.
And if I haven't... Well, there it is. But to quote Pete Davidson of Saturday Night Live: "...Do you know how bad you have to screw up in politics for me to notice?" (or something to that effect). And I have noticed. So let's blog about it.
I have never understood how the greater American public can be so easily vacuumed up into the Dyson that is political propaganda. Republicans recently voted for Trump due, at least in part, to his promise to "build a wall". I'm not certain that any of us knew (including, but not limited to Trump) if he meant it as a metaphor or if he was dead-set on the physical act of building a real, live wall along our border, but here we are. And I think we can all admit that whether or not the wall (in whatever fashion) is, in fact, there, there have been some ...snafus. And yet here we are again with the Dems, this time (sorry, guys): Free Healthcare for All and Student Loan Forgiveness. These are the hot topics. And everyone's falling for it. Again. Only... on the "other side".
How can it possibly be that people - plural! - are fooled by this suggestion? Has it really been that long since the last shangrilah was broken?? Or is it really that different because it's obviously just a problem on the "other side"? Is it really true that people hear "free" and they stop listening immediately? Stop thinking, even? Where, do you suspect, we are getting all the resources necessary to foot the bill on this healthcare? This loan forgiveness? Am I to understand that there are some people who truly believe that there exists a group of angry old white men (in the white house), sitting on a balc (like Statler & Waldorf) simply creating bills for the greater American public? For no apparent reason?
Of course, it could be argued that all money is obsolete / "for no reason", but I think you understand my meaning.
And what are we to believe, really? The fake news, as it has been deemed? After the propaganda's been handled and supplimented in, what else is there?
Wednesday, October 30, 2019
Time Flies...
...All the time.
The saying goes "Time flies when you're having fun", but let me tell you: it doesn't quite slug its way by me while things get rocky. You could lose a whole month to some tragedy, as small as something in your apartment needing repair. And when love is lost? Forget about it.
What's important to remember - when this time suck happens - is that your life is happening. Whether you like it or not. So you might as well find something - at some point throughout the day - that you actually enjoy doing. Or even something you don't enjoy doing that will still make you feel accomplished. That will make you feel like you haven't wasted the day/week/month. It seems like the behavior of a madman, filing your taxes in the midst of a hurricane, and maybe it is! But it will almost always make me feel better (even if only a little bit).
That being said, there is, of course, the suggested virtue of "taking the time you need". On personal relationships, family tragedy, setbacks at your job, what-have-you. There is something beautifully strong about the self-control that it takes some of us just to slow down and admit where we are. All I am suggesting is that when you cannot afford to "take the time you need", you take the time to finish those renovations in your living room. To make that call to your mother. To meal prep. Something.
The saying goes "Time flies when you're having fun", but let me tell you: it doesn't quite slug its way by me while things get rocky. You could lose a whole month to some tragedy, as small as something in your apartment needing repair. And when love is lost? Forget about it.
What's important to remember - when this time suck happens - is that your life is happening. Whether you like it or not. So you might as well find something - at some point throughout the day - that you actually enjoy doing. Or even something you don't enjoy doing that will still make you feel accomplished. That will make you feel like you haven't wasted the day/week/month. It seems like the behavior of a madman, filing your taxes in the midst of a hurricane, and maybe it is! But it will almost always make me feel better (even if only a little bit).
That being said, there is, of course, the suggested virtue of "taking the time you need". On personal relationships, family tragedy, setbacks at your job, what-have-you. There is something beautifully strong about the self-control that it takes some of us just to slow down and admit where we are. All I am suggesting is that when you cannot afford to "take the time you need", you take the time to finish those renovations in your living room. To make that call to your mother. To meal prep. Something.
Wednesday, October 2, 2019
Obligatory Summer Entry
O - BLOG - atory??
Like obligatory, but ...blog.
Okay, that was the entertainment for this entry. The big payoff. It's all downhill from here. You don't believe me? Read on.
I was just cruising through some of my older entries (I'll explain why in a bit) (...it's really fascinating, you're not going to want to miss it). I noticed that I did not write anything throughout the entire month of September 2019, so I shot my peepers pastward around September 2018 & 2017. I noticed I was compelled (both years) to write about the summer/weather/sunshine/feelings of the like. I then realized I had done nothing of the sort for this summer - How dare!
The reason for shirking my summer-loving-responsibilities? Shit's been crazy (said in Tracy Morgan voice).
Jan: decide to move again, maybe
Feb: nope, yep, definitely moving
Mar: collect/send all the paperwork in between jobs, get accepted to/move into new place
Apr: aw, man, somebody backed into my c- BIRTHDAY! #dirtythirty
May: Happy Mother's D- Ma's sick. Oh, no, wait, we're good. This two job thing is exhausting.
Jun: dog-sitting, eye appointments, THE BAR this 2nd job's gotta go.
Jul: yep, that's it. new job time. #drained
Aug: NEW JOB! Bf birthday things!
Sep: ??? new tattoo (don't mind if I tat-DO!), lots of social/community, getting used to new job
Oct:
Annnnnnnd here we are.
This year could not have been more of a blur. I remember New Year's Eve/Day, it was spent with very important people and I would not trade a second of it. Precious times, for sure. And I'm finally "home" with my age and I am pumped about my new job (and possibly more importantly: leaving the flaming hot mess of garbage the previous job was/is/will proceed be, likely). But what exactly did I do this summer?
I sold art at my good job, which was quite an experience. Still selling it now (it's being displayed elsewhere). I remember spending time being off-the-cuff-social (my absolute favorite way to be social) and I recall spending an insurmountable percentage of my paycheck at the local bar and coffee shop. I went to beach precisely two times; once by myself and once with W. I think mainly it was a lot of maintenance activity. Very adult things.
And yet I still do not feel as though it was squandered. I love summer - I don't think I have had a single bad one since being old enough to make my own decisions.
THE REASON I was sorting through old blog posts was because a friend, and local shop owner, is having an event at her book store soon. This will be an event where local writers can assemble and read bits they've written on the given topic. I will do my best to find something, but in the event that I do not, it will be lovely to hear what others have written.
Like obligatory, but ...blog.
Okay, that was the entertainment for this entry. The big payoff. It's all downhill from here. You don't believe me? Read on.
I was just cruising through some of my older entries (I'll explain why in a bit) (...it's really fascinating, you're not going to want to miss it). I noticed that I did not write anything throughout the entire month of September 2019, so I shot my peepers pastward around September 2018 & 2017. I noticed I was compelled (both years) to write about the summer/weather/sunshine/feelings of the like. I then realized I had done nothing of the sort for this summer - How dare!
The reason for shirking my summer-loving-responsibilities? Shit's been crazy (said in Tracy Morgan voice).
Jan: decide to move again, maybe
Feb: nope, yep, definitely moving
Mar: collect/send all the paperwork in between jobs, get accepted to/move into new place
Apr: aw, man, somebody backed into my c- BIRTHDAY! #dirtythirty
May: Happy Mother's D- Ma's sick. Oh, no, wait, we're good. This two job thing is exhausting.
Jun: dog-sitting, eye appointments, THE BAR this 2nd job's gotta go.
Jul: yep, that's it. new job time. #drained
Aug: NEW JOB! Bf birthday things!
Sep: ??? new tattoo (don't mind if I tat-DO!), lots of social/community, getting used to new job
Oct:
Annnnnnnd here we are.
This year could not have been more of a blur. I remember New Year's Eve/Day, it was spent with very important people and I would not trade a second of it. Precious times, for sure. And I'm finally "home" with my age and I am pumped about my new job (and possibly more importantly: leaving the flaming hot mess of garbage the previous job was/is/will proceed be, likely). But what exactly did I do this summer?
I sold art at my good job, which was quite an experience. Still selling it now (it's being displayed elsewhere). I remember spending time being off-the-cuff-social (my absolute favorite way to be social) and I recall spending an insurmountable percentage of my paycheck at the local bar and coffee shop. I went to beach precisely two times; once by myself and once with W. I think mainly it was a lot of maintenance activity. Very adult things.
And yet I still do not feel as though it was squandered. I love summer - I don't think I have had a single bad one since being old enough to make my own decisions.
THE REASON I was sorting through old blog posts was because a friend, and local shop owner, is having an event at her book store soon. This will be an event where local writers can assemble and read bits they've written on the given topic. I will do my best to find something, but in the event that I do not, it will be lovely to hear what others have written.
Tuesday, October 1, 2019
Listening to Noise
Some may say that I have questionable taste in music. Because aside from the fact the somebody decided to make it and circulate it enough so that the melody at least reached my ears, there usually isn't a terribly big audience for it. At least not in the way that I fall for it. But there will always be bands less popular than Ariana Grande, than Beyonce, than Frank Sinatra. And even though I love me some Ari, thoroughly enjoy Sinatra and have danced plenty to Bey, it's just not quite the same feeling as when I listen to "My Music".
My Music is the music that has so much bloody noise going on (between instruments, voice and varied electronics) you almost feel exhausted after you listen to it. It fills my ears. It is complete. There is literally no moment in the song where there is not something going on. No time for silence. So much to say. And the less technically poised the singer is, the better off I am. I understand people like Whitney Houston have technically incredible, talented sound and out-of-this-world capability. I understand that that sound is beautiful. I just don't like listening to it as much as this noisy shit that I love so much. Their sound simply does not personally appeal to me in the same way. (I am the same way with movies: I can tell if a movie is good/well done/aesthetic/well-structured, but I still may not like it. I still may find it too long, or boring, or simply not entertaining.)
I like music that leaves no gap to think. No span to sensibly come to your own conclusion. About anything! This affords me honesty. I simply feel. For better or for worse.
Special Thanks to:
Talking Heads, Beck, Wolf Parade, Thao & the Get Down Stay Downs, Grimes, LCD Soundsystem, Sylvan Esso, EL VY, M.I.A., Hot Chip, Cold War Kids, Peter, Bjorn & John, Muse, Modest Mouse & Sleigh Bells. xo
My Music is the music that has so much bloody noise going on (between instruments, voice and varied electronics) you almost feel exhausted after you listen to it. It fills my ears. It is complete. There is literally no moment in the song where there is not something going on. No time for silence. So much to say. And the less technically poised the singer is, the better off I am. I understand people like Whitney Houston have technically incredible, talented sound and out-of-this-world capability. I understand that that sound is beautiful. I just don't like listening to it as much as this noisy shit that I love so much. Their sound simply does not personally appeal to me in the same way. (I am the same way with movies: I can tell if a movie is good/well done/aesthetic/well-structured, but I still may not like it. I still may find it too long, or boring, or simply not entertaining.)
I like music that leaves no gap to think. No span to sensibly come to your own conclusion. About anything! This affords me honesty. I simply feel. For better or for worse.
Special Thanks to:
Talking Heads, Beck, Wolf Parade, Thao & the Get Down Stay Downs, Grimes, LCD Soundsystem, Sylvan Esso, EL VY, M.I.A., Hot Chip, Cold War Kids, Peter, Bjorn & John, Muse, Modest Mouse & Sleigh Bells. xo
In Plain Sight
In both of my current jobs, I am allowed to listen to music/podcasts/whatever while I work. It just has to be of a reasonable volume/in your headphones.
I am eternally grateful for this. I have always said "If I can just find a job that lets me listen to whatever music I want while I do it, I will immediately count myself lucky". I didn't know this then, but a lot of my graciousness has to do with the fact that listening to music (of my choice) while I do my job (/talk to others/clean my house/exist) really tethers me to my current space and allows me to narrow my focus. If something irritating happens/a setback occurs and I am not listening to music I am immediately more likely to feel the heat of frustration under my skin. However, playing my tunes kind of starts me at a +10 handicap for the day, and so I am much less likely to freak out. It soothes the savage beast, as it were.
**(Quick interjection: the music really does have to be at just the right volume. Just enough to drown me. If it's too low it's irritating/distracting, like a mosquito. If it's too loud I worry about other people hearing it and am unable to relax. I know, I know; it's just got to be a joy living with me.)**
***(Think of how I feel! I can't get away!)***
I basically find any unsavory situation to be at least made bearable by the right music. It will either sharpen my focus or allow me to escape a bit. To tether me or turn me loose. Best of both worlds.
It has come to my attention that not everyone feels this way. For example: W is at home, writing in his spare time. The place is quiet. Low-key. Just him and the cat. Peaceful, even. Should a conversation on the street elevate too much in volume, his focus will be pulled and his writing will suffer. He may get frustrated and decide to save the activity for another day. I, meanwhile, may get my best blog-work done when I am amidst a noisy crowd at my favorite watering hole; wild conversation and strange music abound. Why is this?
There are plenty of different factors, I am sure, for plenty of different reasons why. Mine, I can say with some certainty, has to do with being ignored. I simply work my best when I know that no one is paying attention to me. I have spent what feels like the better part of my life under watchful eyes (a term which, here, is referring to "people who were never told to mind their own business"). Life has given me plenty of great opportunity (and I have worked for plenty, myself). The one luxury it is unlikely to afford me is uninterrupted alone time. And so, the way I best know how to relax is when I know everyone else's attention is being spent on "something else". Something more fascinating than a female. Something more fascinating than someone in their environment. Doing something they find to be unusual. What's a good bet, then? Alcohol, of course. A bar provides alcohol, and - depending on which bar you choose - a strict policy on children. Not being allowed in, I mean. Because adults are relatively easy to distract. A child, however, will remember you promised them a game of tag nine hours into the evening.
My point is that when there are other people talking around me, I feel as though they are all basically uninterested in what I am doing. I feel as though there are more important things going on, other than me. When people are talking, even if said people are right next to me, I feel like I can actually relax and essentially do my own thing. I can't usually be alone. And I have tried like hell to "excuse myself", and all that does is bring more attention to me. And the longer I am gone, the more people pay attention.
Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight.
And when you can't hide in plain sight, maybe try the bathroom. People will still talk, but they might leave you alone-ish. And usually there's a lock.
I am eternally grateful for this. I have always said "If I can just find a job that lets me listen to whatever music I want while I do it, I will immediately count myself lucky". I didn't know this then, but a lot of my graciousness has to do with the fact that listening to music (of my choice) while I do my job (/talk to others/clean my house/exist) really tethers me to my current space and allows me to narrow my focus. If something irritating happens/a setback occurs and I am not listening to music I am immediately more likely to feel the heat of frustration under my skin. However, playing my tunes kind of starts me at a +10 handicap for the day, and so I am much less likely to freak out. It soothes the savage beast, as it were.
**(Quick interjection: the music really does have to be at just the right volume. Just enough to drown me. If it's too low it's irritating/distracting, like a mosquito. If it's too loud I worry about other people hearing it and am unable to relax. I know, I know; it's just got to be a joy living with me.)**
***(Think of how I feel! I can't get away!)***
I basically find any unsavory situation to be at least made bearable by the right music. It will either sharpen my focus or allow me to escape a bit. To tether me or turn me loose. Best of both worlds.
It has come to my attention that not everyone feels this way. For example: W is at home, writing in his spare time. The place is quiet. Low-key. Just him and the cat. Peaceful, even. Should a conversation on the street elevate too much in volume, his focus will be pulled and his writing will suffer. He may get frustrated and decide to save the activity for another day. I, meanwhile, may get my best blog-work done when I am amidst a noisy crowd at my favorite watering hole; wild conversation and strange music abound. Why is this?
There are plenty of different factors, I am sure, for plenty of different reasons why. Mine, I can say with some certainty, has to do with being ignored. I simply work my best when I know that no one is paying attention to me. I have spent what feels like the better part of my life under watchful eyes (a term which, here, is referring to "people who were never told to mind their own business"). Life has given me plenty of great opportunity (and I have worked for plenty, myself). The one luxury it is unlikely to afford me is uninterrupted alone time. And so, the way I best know how to relax is when I know everyone else's attention is being spent on "something else". Something more fascinating than a female. Something more fascinating than someone in their environment. Doing something they find to be unusual. What's a good bet, then? Alcohol, of course. A bar provides alcohol, and - depending on which bar you choose - a strict policy on children. Not being allowed in, I mean. Because adults are relatively easy to distract. A child, however, will remember you promised them a game of tag nine hours into the evening.
My point is that when there are other people talking around me, I feel as though they are all basically uninterested in what I am doing. I feel as though there are more important things going on, other than me. When people are talking, even if said people are right next to me, I feel like I can actually relax and essentially do my own thing. I can't usually be alone. And I have tried like hell to "excuse myself", and all that does is bring more attention to me. And the longer I am gone, the more people pay attention.
Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight.
And when you can't hide in plain sight, maybe try the bathroom. People will still talk, but they might leave you alone-ish. And usually there's a lock.
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