Vincent Vega and Jules Winnfield do not approve of interspecies friendship.

Why the hummingbird is unperturbed by a horsefly the size of hummingbird is a mystery.

Winter is coming, at approximately 20-30 kilometers per hour.

Intense passion runs in our family. That's why most of us are dead.

Choose Life.  Choose a job.  Choose a career.  Choose a family.  Choose a big television...

I could write a lengthy treatise regarding my general state of being and the changes undergone over the course of the past year.  I will do no such thing, however, as I believe many of the thoughts I have regarding the subject are meant to be understood by me alone.  I am also lazy.

So instead, I leave you with this: We pass love from one object to another in an attempt to revisit a place we've never been.  But eventually, we find it.

This, from Jacques

More Enjoyable Things To Do With My Time, In Lieu of Studying Statistics

1.  Holding horizontally-folded dollar bills up to my face in the mirror in such a manner that the top half of my face and the bottom half of (insert president here)'s face merge so as to create the great MoneyMan.
2.  Opening a bag of M&Ms, pressing two together until one cracks, pitting the winner against the next M&M and continuing the process until I discover the M&M champion among ordinary M&M(en).
3.  Returning videotapes.
4.  Taking advantage of the recent hailstorm in Claremont and building an army of miniature hailmen, then pitting them against squirrels.
5.  Going into toy stores and arranging the lions in the stuffed animal section so that the lighter tan ones are hanging off the edge of the shelf by their front paws and the darker ones are holding the lighter ones by their front paws.
6.  Muting a classic film and redubbing over all the voices with alternative dialogue.
7. Almost anything else.

Occupy Unemployment

Hello everyone, and thank you for coming to this emergency press conference.  Some of you may know this already, some of you may not, but there has been a recent unemployment crisis sweeping my week.  I take no pleasure in informing my anxious public that my recently implemented Kira Will Apply For A Job Act has failed to do what I had hoped, which is, namely, to get me a job.  Me and my team of legislators, which are all coincidentally me, did everything we could to increase the number of employment opportunities available to me.  Unfortunately, due to existing market factors we could not change, our efforts were unsuccessful.  I would like to assure you all that despite this setback, we are doing everything we can to increase employment opportunities for those in need, all of which are also coincidentally me.  This administration will not accept failure, and until our constituents, who are all also me, are satisfied with the state of the regional job economy and with the level of employment, we will not stop looking for solutions.  A new jobs bill is currently in the process of being enacted, titled Let's See If The Writing Center Wants Me At Some Point In The Near Future.  With luck, this will prove to be more successful than its predecessor.

Thank you for your attention, and God bless the United States of America, which all happen to be me as well.

Talk so they'll listen

I know this blog has largely been a platform for me to talk about whatever I want, and so my posts are often not very well thought out, researched, edited, or lemon-scented.  But I'm sitting here waiting for an email regarding a potential job that I applied for yesterday, and I can't help thinking that as young as I am now, I along with my peers can't remain carefree college students forever.  Soon, we're going to be college graduates, setting out to develop successful careers, buy our first apartments, and eventually start families of our own.  The time to start thinking about our futures is now.  We should all consider what kind of career field we want to enter, how we're going to manage our finances in a volatile economy, what kind of parents and spouses we want to become when the time is right.  That's why I've taken the time to discuss an issue that will come up, at some point, for every one of us as we mature into successful, functioning adults.

Regardless of how you may feel now, chances are good that some day, you'll see it fit to settle down with the person you love and cherish.  You'll start your own family, and you'll see that child-rearing will raise an entirely new set of issues that years before, you never would have considered.  What's the best way to go about toilet training?  At what age is it appropriate to begin discussing sex and the process of prenatal development?  How do you tell your daughter that she's not old enough to start wearing makeup to school?  What I'd like to discuss now is an issue that will be a universal source of anxiety among new parents of our generation.  It's time to start thinking about:

How to Talk to your Kids about Star Wars

Experts haven't agreed on one ideal age at which one should begin to learn about the sci-fi phenomenon that is Star Wars; most posit that it is best to wait until the child has been reading for at least a few years so that the parents may use any one of the numerous illustrated Star Wars encyclopedias to supplement the discussion.  It is, however, generally accepted that a parent should preemptively bring up the topic in a comfortable and neutral situation, such as after a family dinner.  Actively introducing your child to Star Wars ensures that his or her first impression of Star Wars comes from a reasonable and educated source.  Wait too long and there is a chance your child will first hear about Star Wars from a friend or from a media source such as a TV commercial or the Internet.  In most cases, this will lead to a harmless misunderstanding of Star Wars, such as a mistaken belief that Greedo shot first in the Mos Eisley Cantina, a misconception perpetuated by the remastered 1997 release of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.  However, there is a chance that a friend will show your child Episode I before he or she gets a chance to be exposed to the original trilogy, which can lead to a lot of unhealthy perceptions of the franchise.  Best to beat the race and take the initiative yourself.

What I will say next is perhaps the most communally accepted piece of advice for parents who wish to talk about Star Wars with their kids: always always always begin with the original trilogy.  It is important to frame your discussion around the idea that Star Wars, while complicated and sometimes a little bit scary (remember how uncomfortable you were when you first connected the dots and realized that Leia made out with her brother?) is a joyous and wonderful thing that can be shared with the people you love the most.  Exposing a child to the later trilogy too early may give him or her the impression that Star Wars is all about special effects, flashy lightsaber battles and one-dimensional characters that serve only as objects of ridicule or as plot points.  Make sure your child knows all about Han Solo's complex and love-driven transition from anti-hero to hero, the significance of Luke's unlikely rise to the most powerful good guy in the galaxy, and the pseudo-Grecian redemption Luke brings to his doomed father, Darth Vader, before introducing your child to Jar-Jar Binks or the comically unsettling decision to cast Samuel L. Jackson as the peaceful and subdued Master Mace Windu. 

During the course of your discussion with your child, it is natural for him or her to ask questions about the Dark Side of the force.  Try to be understanding of your child's curiosity; it is, after all, the Dark Side that gets badass Sith lightening, awesome shiny robot suits, and a powerful, but ultimately merciful villain voiced by James Earl Jones (Admiral Motti insulted the man's religion; how did he NOT expect to get choked from across a table?  Mercy my ass.)  When explaining the Dark Side of the force to your child, be firm in your stance that the Dark Side is the final destination on the path of fear, anger, hate and suffering, but also be patient with your child when he or she muses how cool it would be to have a red lightsaber instead of blue or green.  Remember, it's a discussion, not a lecture.  Calmly and gently state that while the Dark Side may seem like fun, it's the good team that doesn't get its major home base completely blown to Hell on two separate occasions.  This would also be a good time to mention to your son, assuming he identifies as straight, or your daughter if you suspect she may be a lesbian, that only the good team gets a pretty, pistol-wielding woman to hang out with all the time.  For gay boys or straight girls, you may use the brooding appeal of Han Solo or Luke's earnest, blue-eyed devotion to convey a similar message.

By no means is this a complete guide on how to discuss Star Wars with your children; every child is different and every approach will also be different.  One parent may choose to begin by showing his child Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope and then leading the child through a discussion of character traits, important plot details and the best Han Solo quotes, while another parent may opt to start with a basic rundown of the major characters and general plot line of the series before going to the movies themselves.  What is important is that you take the time and care to make this a discussion that your child will not only enjoy, but learn from.  Your child's Star Wars experience will begin with you.  Make sure you give your child a good foundation on which they can build their own well-informed opinions, and I guarantee your child's relationship with Star Wars will be healthy, committed, and comforting, especially as they grow old enough to truly start exploring Star Wars for themselves.

So, talk to your children about Star Wars.  Because if you don't, someone else will.

And it'll be this guy.

"I'd love to answer your question, but that would carry a $1,000,000 fine."

It's been a surprisingly good Monday.  I have very recently had the pleasure of listening to Rick Welts present at the Ath, which turned out to be one of the best speeches I've heard there so far.  LGBT friends, take note.  This is what the gay rights movement should look like.  We don't need outrageously flashy parades that only serve to reinforce the unfortunate stereotypes of promiscuity and unabashed hedonism.  Yes, they raise awareness, but most people will only have an increased awareness of how obnoxious it is to see this on your morning commute:

"Taped to my buttocks is a copy of the New York Marriage Equality Act for those interested in the presence of LGBT activism in the political arena."

 -and whether you like it or not, there will be people who will attribute that behavior to LGBT communities in general.  We need ambitious, respectable people of all generations and professions to demonstrate the fact that sexual orientation has nothing to do with what a person can accomplish or how one should be perceived.  Rick Welts, Harvey Milk, Martha Nelson, Barney Frank, Christine Quinn, Pedro Almodóvar, Neil Patrick Harris, Jodie Foster, Tim Cook, Ellen Degeneres, Anderson Cooper.  These are the people that need to be at the front, because it's difficult to dismiss someone with that kind of a resume.


I'm also waiting to hear back regarding a job interview I had today, which kind of feels like this:

Please?

Please, indeed.

100

Sure smells like midterms up here.

It is Thursday.  It is also after 8:45 pm.  Why no people running around outside yelling?

In other news, rest in peace Steve Jobs.  See you up on the iCloud.  And you're still getting the last laugh down here.

I love the smell of hypocrisy in the morning. 

As for an update on my life, I will say this.  I am spending my free hours writing a crime novel.  This is the most productive I've been while wasting time in a long while.




*spoileralert* The first person implicated was never guilty.  TWIST

A long decade

10 years ago today, I woke up in a changed world.  I would be lying if I said I remember everything, but the nervous whispers and questions that took over the schoolyard remain clear, even if I find it difficult to recall exactly what was said.  10 years ago, I was nine years old, a fourth-grader with very little understanding of the world outside the United States, or maybe even outside California.  All of my knowledge regarding the human psyche came from classrooms and playgrounds.  When somebody said they hated someone, it was because they copied answers off of a homework sheet, or because they spilled tomato sauce all over your backpack, or because they kicked a ball onto the roof during lunch and made it so that nobody could play soccer with the red cherry balls even though they were way more fun than regular soccer balls.  Unspeakably horrid offenses, yes, but nothing that would merit more than a childish scolding or a brief and clumsy fistfight.  10 years ago today, I woke up to find that somebody hated us so much that they flew two commercial airplanes into the World Trade Center and one into the Pentagon, and that their hatred was fierce enough to kill almost 3000 people.

I would like to say that this makes as little sense now as it did then, but my understanding of international politics and the psychology of radicalism makes it impossible for me to say that I don't know how something like this could have happened.  I have had a full ten years to learn that there are terrible people who do terrible things, and as uncomfortable as it is to admit, there is most often a reason.  I have also had a full ten years to learn that there are wonderful people who do wonderful things, and even average people who do wonderful things, and it is an unfathomable relief to know that people who do wonderful things greatly outnumber those who are terrible. 

Ten years later, it still hurts.  Families who lost siblings, parents and spouses are still aching.  We, as citizens, still bear the scars of the great injury our country suffered.  But if I can take anything from the ten years I've had since I found the world to be far scarier than I had previously ever imagined, it is that the world is also far brighter and more beautiful than I ever could have hoped.  Remember, yes.  Give those we lost the respect and reverence that they deserve.  But as we remember 9/11, we must implore ourselves to also remember that slowly but surely, we are healing. 

Call me normal and I'll call you often

Welcome back to camp, everyone.

(29) Days of August

I'd like to give a special highlight to Sam Stone and Noureen Nanjee for a spectacular 2:00 am ponding last night (this morning?) proving that it is never too late to properly christen a birthday. 

Oh it is good to be back.  Today will be a day of firsts: first Pitzer lunch of the year (get ready Alex Cromidas), first daytime swim in the fountain with Cassie Won, first day seeing my beautiful fellow August birthday holder Danielle Shubat, first time I can hear properly since a last-minute decision to see Deadmau5 with Drake Escrofani, and the first day since I've been here that it does not feel too hot to wear clothing. 

And now it's time that we...

frankly my dear, i don't give a Spam™

Poster: $10 each
Box of thumbtacks: $2
Sitting on my bed and explaining, to my 7 year old neighbor, each of my 11 posters currently hanging in my room: costs me nothing, but still kinda fun.

Best moment: watching her point to the poster of Jimi Hendrix that is next to my Pulp Fiction poster and listening to her ask, "Did he do the pulp fiction after he played guitars?"  #juleswinnfieldlookslikejimihendrix

Next best moment: Teaching her ?-year-old younger(?) brother (I swear, these kids are a year older every other week) how to play Linus and Lucy on our piano.  Sleep with one eye open, kid.

5 good reasons to punch a dolphin in the mouth

1.  When a dolphin makes those cute whistles and clicky sounds, they're actually insulting you and your family in a horribly vulgar manner.
2.  Their rubbery skin is easy on the knuckles.  Makes for a much better undersea punching bag than an octopus, which can tend to leave sucker marks.
3.  Dolphins play their entire lives.  Humans only play until we reach adulthood.  This is unfair.  Make it fair by landing a nice roundhouse kick to the face.
4.  Dolphins think they're so great.  Ever seen them swim with a boat?  They think it's a race.  Put that dolphin in its place with a solid left hook.
5.  Anything that smiles that often needs a good punch every now and then.

Thanks, Oatmeal.

*Disclaimer: This entry is intended for absurd or comedic purposes only.  I do not endorse violence towards dolphins, if for no other reason than that the dolphin will almost certainly take you down.  They wear jellyfish as hats.  These things mean business.*

Burns so good

guess what

you know what time it is


GET TO IT.

RRRRRAAAWWWHHHHHHRRRRR

We all knew this day would come.

Day 1

No big...just our private pool.

Well hi there, villa cat.

Villa cat is dancing!  Or scared of me.

The streets of Panzano

The streets of Greve

Greve piazza

Market in the rain

Looks like villa cat made a good choice in accomodations

This is clearly a monument to the vicious Chicken of Bristol.  Didn't know he ever made it down to Italy.  I suppose he could have been carried by a swallow (otherwise unladen, of course.)

and a nice chianti

"You may have the universe if I may have Italy." - Giuseppe Verdi

end of an era

It's come to this.  On Friday, July 15, 2011, I will officially say good bye to a large portion of my childhood.  To think that future generations may forget to solemnly swear they are up to no good...

On another note, Google+ is looking like it might actually catch on.  Zuckerberg, you sleep with one eye open.  Or browser window.  Whatever's nerdier.

There's knocking at the gate.  To bed, to bed, to bed!

EDIT: Yes, I reversed the lines.  Deal with it.

it's too darn hot

At first I was like

 

 

 

 

But then I was like

And that's when the sun killed me to death.

I'm so meta, even this acronym

Ohhhhhhh ddddaaannngg.

Up against and for

Another beautiful day in Solana Beach and another beautiful morning and another beautiful song by the great Elliot Smith, speaking for anyone standing, smiling on some fantasy island waiting for the moon to pull again.  But the tide's coming in.

I dreamt I was in the stone streets, walking without direction into the thick haze of night fog that blankets the hot breath from the mouths of vagabonds and floating blind spirits.  Corporeal and heady, the city of scoundrels took very little notice of me.  Someone struck a match and watched it land on the top of a roof below, a thin line of flame dancing and reaching its way higher with a snap of its flagellate red tendrils.

They screamed then.  All of the silent wraiths and yesterday's gentlemen, shouting with unabashed joy as the flames danced for them, sending up wispy whorls of smoke.  The smoke mingling with the fog, spreading the haze across miles, mountains and great rivers.  

One of them came to me and grabbed my hand and told me to dance, to dance before the flame went out.  I asked him if it would be too late after the flame was gone.  He didn't know, and he wrote nine words on the wall with his finger dipped in a pile of soot.

Msg: PRIVATE LOL ;)

Hackers gonna hack.

Oh, $#!+.  Not again.


Yes, everyone's favorite political crapshow has officially passed its climax and is starting its slow descent into the denouement.  As Weiner (side note: YOUR NAME IS WEINER, SIR.  OF ALL PEOPLE, YOU WERE THE ONE WHO WAS MOST PRESSED TO BE CAREFUL.  I MEAN, FOR GODS SAKE, IMAGINE A HEADLINE CONCERNING LARRY WEIDSTANTS OR MARK BOIESAURFUN.  COME ON.) resigns himself to his fate and relinquishes his title as a member (hehehe) of Congress, we are now, as a nation, forced to pay attention to issues that will actually impact our lives and are significantly less primed for sophomoric genital-themed jokes.  But don't worry.  The GOP candidate lineup will keep us laughing, and you know what laughter is?  Not only is it the best medicine, it is also a reaction to certain stimuli that serves as an emotional balancing mechanism.  Also, America.




And Mom, Dad?  Worry not; no actual animals were harmed in the writing of this post.  Nor was there actual nudity.
Here's the original photo.

This photo was digitally censored in order to create the effect of implied nudity for comedic purposes.

Stay classy, America.  Thanks for stopping by.

Act of virtue

Having successfully completed a detailed and comprehensive outline for my philosophy paper (approximately 85% of the work), I feel good about this day.  No matter that the weather has decided to sulk in its room and listen to angsty punk rock.

I know that this is kind of old news, but it's been on my mind for a while, so I'll resurrect it.  A group of senior Japanese citizens volunteered to perform difficult and dangerous work at the Fukushima power plant, willingly exposing themselves to radiation in order to protect others from having to do the same.  The moniker that they've earned, "Suicide Corps," is catchy, but I don't believe it captures the character and honor that this group exemplifies (the citizens involved apparently don't like the unofficial title either).  Nowhere in the psyches of these people is there a death wish.  What is there is an unshakeable sense of honor, duty, and meaningful sacrifice.  Hero Corps would be more fitting.

This story caught my eye for a lot of reasons.  I followed the development of the tsunami story fairly closely, out of interest in confirming that my relatives in Japan were safe.  As more news came in, I was glad, but also surprised that despite a national crisis, the Japanese remained civil, orderly, and in many cases selfless.  I heard virtually no stories regarding looting, crowd chaos, or cutthroat behavior.  When I later learned of the existence of the Suicide/Hero Corps, I can't say I was terribly surprised, nor did I find this story to be particularly sensational.  For me, these senior citizens are simply continuing the tradition of giving their fellow man the respect and kindness that they need and deserve.  This is not a suicide squad.  These are incredibly courageous men and women who wish to see Japan come out of this disaster as unharmed as possible.  These are heroes, and should be respected as such.


Also, here is a pack of corgis.

Half a mind

Note to all of those reading at home: when you do a load of laundry that contains heavily embellished jeans, particularly jeans with metal studs or hooks, said jeans WILL catch onto all other items of clothing in laundry.  Turn jeans inside out. ??????  Profit!

Aside from a few minor mishaps, a fairly successful, if uneventful afternoon in Claremont.  Unfortunately not as bright and beautiful as yesterday, but still worth a good frolic in the grass (not that I could take part; a philosophy exam tomorrow is keeping me indoors).  When I was passing from cla




[author has been dragged away from computer by a forceful team of ethical theorists.  survival is uncertain]

If you can't answer a man's arguments, all is not lost; you can still call him vile names.

Well.  That was a far more extensive leave of absence than I expected to take.  

Where do I begin?  I barely remember where I left off.  We were all in the final throes of exams and papers, and people tend to lose each other and themselves right around then.  People lock themselves in a room and hardly ever come out for air, interpersonal communication screeches to a dead halt as people power down their cell phones and block Facebook on their computers, the dining halls become less and less populated, and the campus generally just looks like a ghost town.  Frankly, the campus looks like a possibly post-apocolyptic ghost town for the summer, for all of us who decided to stick around for one reason or another.  But, aside from a few mistakes during the first week (Socal, get it together), it's been warm and sunny and generally beautiful.

I believe my external productivity is inversely related to my current level of introspection.  Quite honestly, I believe that's why I haven't been writing; when there's too much in your head and each piece wants all of your attention, it is nigh but impossible to organize anything into a coherent chunk.  But my mind feels ready, after a much-needed trip around the universe, so to speak.

Oscar Wilde once stated that he chose his friends for their good looks, his acquaintances for their good characters and his enemies for their good intellects.  I have to wonder where I got all of my smart friends.

If you can, hold on

We all need direction to perfection.

It's the final countdown, gentlemen.  Naught but three weeks remain.  We're gonna make it.  We're gonna make it.  We're gonna make it...

Good, bad, or ugly, however you want to make it out to be, it's been a hell of a year.  We all had our triumphs and we all had our mistakes, most likely more plentiful than our triumphs.  But if you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything, and by god there are too many boring people out there to let these opportunities go to waste.

The way they sing

Captain's Log: 4/10/11 - Sunday

Only a month remains in the semester and all but the strongest of us are losing strength.  BoardPlus supplies are dwindling with each coming day and some crew members have been driven mad by the repetitiveness of dining on campus.  There is word of a group of refugees who have sought shelter and individually prepared dinners in the Claremont village, but these are only rumors.  Besides, the trek to the Village Grill is long and trecherous, almost two Claremont miles in distance and fraught with unfinished construction projects and knickknack shops nobody ever really wants to go into. 

Despite our exhaustion and our misplaced sense of deprivation, the community spirit is strong.  One can only have the faith that our brigade will see success in completing the year.  We will need to gather strength before the great final battle of May 8-13; some have suggested a small scale invasion and looting of the Honnold Mudd stacks, which tactical teams are currently investigating as a possibility.

My eyes grow heavy and I know I must rest.  Viva la resistance.

Over and out.

the sun is up, the sky is blue

and boy is it beautiful


it's time to come outside everyone

I DID IT FOR THE LULZ

Don't worry. Skippy is fine.

This is the way that we love

Wow.  Long time since, eh?

The sky is its somber shade of sheet slate grey, but the sun was here for a little while at least, just to remind us all that it's still there.

Upon successful completion of Spring Break 2011, there's a lot of a little bit of everything bouncing off of the inner walls of my skull, and not just because I spend 98% of my free time head banging furiously.  But in approximately 2 minutes, my watch will tell me to smile, and maybe then my cerebrum can take a nice little break.

EDIT: Thanks for the kitten pic, Joost :)

"Of course I know. I've always known."

Welp, rehearsal is cancelled, which makes for a nice evening of writing in the Coop.  Death in Vegas is playing through my earbuds.

Keeping a blog has made me realize how delusional it is to take oneself seriously as a blogger.  Blogging is not an occupation.  Given the shaky frequency with which I update this thing, it's not even really a hobby.  But it's there when you need it and it's unobtrusive when you don't, a lot like the box of Star Wars bandaids that you keep in the drawer because you know that there's a paper cut waiting for you SOMEWHERE inside your textbook.  The book knows exactly when you'll later be handling salty or acidic substances, and that's when it makes its move. The book KNOWS.  Look at it, with it's smug ISBN number.  Jerk.


But hey!  It's Wednesday!  Countdown 'til the weekend starts now.  T minus one day (oh right, in the real world weekends start on FRIDAYS)

Doppelganger

It's all gonna be ay-okay.

la dans

Beach vacation?  Antiquing and enjoying a stay at a quaint B&B?  Going metropolitan in New York City?

Nah.

Every time I dance, I can't shake the biting feeling that this is what I will do for the rest of my life.  I don't care if I get paid.  I need it.

This is where Romania comes in.  Over the summer, I very may well have the opportunity to teach dance and work with local dance groups and companies in Romania, as well as doing some volunteer work as a dance therapist for disabled individuals.  

More on this to come.  There's still an application to fill out, people to contact, decisions to mull over, expenses to understand.  But all is looking up.

I'm moved and that's the feeling

It's a Monday, but it's a sunny Monday and that's enough for me.

When you're a Jet

I don't know why my 8th grade dance recital just popped into my head, but it did.  Lots of fun memories there, many of them revolving around feeling very very awkward on stage.  Times are changing.

Happy Valentines Day to all, or Singles Awareness Day as the more jaded or anti-Hallmark among us may say.  However, on this particular February 14th, I'm less concerned with candy hearts and roses and more preoccupied with the upheaval in the Middle East.  We just saw the end of a 30 year corrupt regime in Egypt and now the dominos are starting to topple.  Social media sites were shut down in Algeria after a rise in civilian protests, and the streets are becoming more active with social protests and demands in Iran, Bahrain, and Yemen, prompting those in the region to refer to this particular Monday as a "day of rage."

I, for one, am looking forward to watching the continuing saga.  We're still a painfully long way from peace in the Middle East, but I can't shake the feeling that this organic and homegrown desire for change in the region is an excellent start.

Tree?

I am no tree.

All unentended Tolkien references aside, it's been a nice day.  Just generally pleasant.

Just be careful out there.

Sunday accomplishments

This.

My phone is definitely standing up on the skinny end without any support.  Sweet.

The best artists steal

Everyone read this. Now.  Cassie, you can give me a zero on this assignment since it's not all my original work.

This isn't about sex or hawtness.  It's about love.  Loving your body.  Loving your stomach, your breasts, your crooked nose, your penis, your chest hair, your mind, your heart.  Loving yourself.  Loving the minds and hearts and bodies of everyone around you.  Because it all starts with you.  Love and you.  You and love.  You and love holding hands and skipping down the street even if other people laugh.  It's a beautiful relationship, but like all relationships, it takes a lot of work to perfect and understand.

I linked to my best friend's blog because it really resonated with me, and I know it will resonate with somebody else.
Sex and candy and love, love in all of its forms.  But especially love for yourself.  Even for that crooked nose.  Because that's where everything starts.  How can you love anyone else if you don't love the person you know best?

The soul test

That is all.

You talking to me?

How has your day been?  Long?  Stressful?  Maybe more difficult than you had thought?

Believe me, I know.  Maybe it's just been one of those days where the hours drag out and drag on.  One of those days where Murphy's Law is in full effect.  Maybe you fell down the stairs in front of a bunch of people.  Maybe the barista screwed up your order.  Maybe it started to rain.

You could have had a big fight with a friend.  Your suitemate could be singing horribly in the shower.  You could be out of bandaids.

Maybe your car ran out of gas in the middle of the freeway and you don't have AAA service.  Maybe a mouse crawled behind the refrigerator and died there and now the entire house smells like bleggh.

For whatever reason, for any reason at all, are you not having a very good day?

Well now you are.

Still yet to come

As busy as I want to be and doing everything that I need to be doing.

A switch clicked on this Saturday.  More and more of my time is being re-allocated to rehearsal and dance purposes, yet I feel like I have more free time than I did before I threw myself into the dance world.  Somehow I'm more efficient with my schoolwork than I've been in a long, long time.  My appetite is healthier.  I'm sleeping better.

You just do what you love, and #%$@ the rest.

Red shoes, red stag

12-8:30.  Dance.  IcyHot at the ready!

V-day

Today was a big day.  My best friend started a new blog and it's pretty sweet, so you should definitely check it out.  Nao.  Check it out nao.

On a similarly positive note, I aced the Fosse piece audition and I have been offered a spot in the cast!  Awesometime.  I'm still waiting for results regarding my audition for The Vagina Monologues; I'll keep y'all posted.

the ones who are mad to live

On the Road.  Jack Kerouac.  Dang.

Getting back into the swing of things feels good.  I like the familiar sounds of excited screaming and muffled bass outside my dorm room window.  I like getting delicious delicious coffee at the Pit Stop Cafe.  I like the smell of the library.  I like seeing all of the people I missed far too much through the break.  I like playing Beatles Rock Band like it's going out of style.

Because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

I'm home, darling

CMC.  Just as I remembered you.  Oh how I've missed this place.

My literature professor may be one of the most interesting people I've met.  If nothing else, that class will be an experience.  At best, it will be mind-blowing.

Let me hear your balalakas ringing out

I'm back in California, where I belong.  About time.  So come and keep your comrade warm!

Right in the face

Still getting snow!  The Lovecraftian Monster continues to serve me well.  He's coming up to Claremont with me!  Time to figure out how to store a snowboard bag....

As much fun as I'm having in Utah, I feel like I've been counting down the minutes until I get off the shuttle from Ontario.  There are too many things about CMC that I missed.

On a very happy note, the dance festival in Long Beach is absolutely a go!  Apparently I'm the first CMC student to be involved in the event.  Reppin' like a boss.  Reppin' right in your face.

One more day on the mountain.  Riders gonna ride, mormons gonna morm.

Don't waste your time or time will waste you

Who else saw that brilliant 102 yard touchdown run by Eric Weems?  FALCONS!  <---this is far too much enthusiasm.  I only lived in Atlanta for a few years.

What.

A funny thing happened on the way

As of this afternoon, I've officially thrown my hat into the ring and applied to be a writer for the Forum.  Wish me luck, fellow humanoids.

I am tired.  I am very tired.  I took a ballet class for the first time in approximately a month and I was either lucky enough or unlucky enough to take it from the a$$-kicking Latvian teacher whom I've grown to know and love over the past five or six years.  Soreness is likely to ensue.

Definitely, definitely worth it.

His dark materials

Who remembers that series?  :D

I get to test drive my new purple tie-dye ski coat in less than 3 days!  Excited to start putting together a mountain playlist (even though I can still only wear one earbud).

New update: I've been asked to perform in a senior dance piece next semester and my answer to that proposition is a resounding yes.  It's being performed at a dance festival in Long Beach.  Exposure!  :)

More on this to come, dudeasaurs.

My babel

First: LISTEN TO THIS SONG AND ACQUIRE IMMEDIATELY.




Secondly, lineup leaked?  Arcade Fire, Daft Punk, and Interpol as headliners?  OH JOYOUS DAY!   Please...will the lies never end?

Why do you tease me with hope?

Yeah, it's not real, I'm dumb for getting excited.  Thankfully, a helpful reader pointed me to another leaked lineup, and I've gotta say, this one looks pretty legit.

I love the bands with dudes who have beards!

Patience, my pretties!

Cabin fever

I cannot tell a lie...I'm ready to go back.  Or go somewhere else.  Mainly, I'm tired of so much relaxing.  The weekend trip to Utah should provide a nice reprieve.  Snowbird's still getting snow!

Also, Interpol rumored to play Coachella this year.  Psyched.

[untitled]

Do it.

The devil makes us sick

I got stabbed in the ear with a needle and then inserted a piece of surgical steel into the fresh wound.  This morning it feels a bit sore, but fine and healthy and lovely all the same.

I'd like to take this opportunity now to shove some more of my taste in music down your throat.  Today's special focus is on Death in Vegas.

WHO: Richard "Fearless" Maguire and Tim Holmes

WHAT: Electro-rock, psychedelic, triphop and industrial influences

WHEN: 1994-present.  Hopefully still at it!

WHERE: United Kingdom

WHY: Why?  Maybe it's because they're the perfect addition to your playlist already comprising of Massive Attack and other electro-triphop big names.  Maybe it's because you hear new layers every time you come back to a song.  Maybe it's because somehow, no matter what you're doing at the moment, Death in Vegas will inexplicably always fit whatever mood you need.  A lot of the discography is subtler and more inquisitive than a lot of the electronic music on the market; probably no dance parties born out of mad Death in Vegas binges (unless you take some time to cull your few high energy favorites).  That doesn't mean you'll get bored of it.  There's enough in each song to be able to focus on something different every time you listen.  Death in Vegas doesn't force you to invest yourself in the music, but you keep your energy up anyway, simply because you want to.

My personal favorites?  "Dirge" from The Contino Sessions album and "Anita Berber" from Satan's Circus.





Go out and find some music!

PS: Fun fact - Dead Elvis was the original name of the band before the Elvis Presley estate threatened legal action.

Portivegas Attack

So much delicious music.  Particularly delicious this evening: 'Babel' and 'Angel', both by Massive Attack.  Trip-hop is yummy.

It's the end of my first real week at home, and I say bravo bravo bravo to the 858/619/760 for once again proving to me that it really is better in California.  The girls are prettier, the acai bowls (and the girls, for that matter) are more lip-lickable, the grass grows greener and the 101 remains a happy, happy place.

One of my favorite high school teachers told me that the best part of the job was seeing her former students return to the old home base having made new impacts on the institutions of love and life.  I sat with her in my old English classroom for almost 45 minutes going over everything you'd expect a teacher and a former student to go over.  The requisite questions about my classes and whether I was dancing in college, the necessary LJCDS updates and comments on how so many of my old teachers are so happy to have had both me and my brother in a class.  And then we started talking for real.

Her favorite part of being a teacher is seeing former students after they've been released into the wild, and I think my favorite part of being a student is coming back to former teachers with the knowledge that both they and I have stories to tell, either stories regarding new events or stories regarding old events that couldn't have been discussed under the old teacher-student formality.  It's like we're actual, real live people with real things to say.

I remember when

Keep your old love letters.  Do one thing that scares you every day.  Your choices are half chance.  So are everybody else's.  Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it.  Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.  Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

And trust me on the sunscreen.

I'd like to believe it was all about love for a child

Thank you to the wonderful friend who gave this to me months ago :)

It is the 5th of January this morning, and I'm happy to say that the sun is barely starting to peek over the fences in the yard.  Still chilly with a brisk ocean wind, but with a sort of optimistic clarity that hints at warm, sunny times ahead.  The headlines make you wanna cry, but somehow we're still happy all the same.

Ring it in

Well done, everyone!  We made it!  Fantastic job, my lovelies.
Now go break some resolutions!