fragments of thoughts and events
April 27, 2010, 5:11 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

Major delays. Delaying doing taxes. Doing work for tomorrow. Sleeping. Thinking. Getting rid of stuff. Washing the dishes. Finally doing all of the laundry.

I love that L.G. always asks about my family because famliy has a different meaning there that I like and am taking for my own.

This is me pretending to be stern. Wearing glasses and using assured tones and sometimes telling people what they are going to do. They listen. It’s been a cool process to observe and test out, but I won’t miss it, having to fake it,

It’s been a week of crazy news. B’s getting married! Less good, C got sort-of fired and I think I’m helping someone on the way to AA.


private dancer
April 25, 2010, 7:13 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Judging by the Hannah Montana previews, I’m not the target audience for Step Up II: The Streets. One theme in this blog is disclosing secrets, one of which is my complete affinity for dancing movies, in particular breakdancing movies.

I dance alone in my apartment all the time.

I frequently hide my affinity for dancing. I find a lot of people like the off-beat-stiffly-sway-shuffle-in-circle method and I don’t want to attract attention. I don’t do it so people will look, I do it because the way it feels, I like dirrrty hip hop music, and I have been dancing with abandon since early high school when my best friend and I would practice for our potential Electric Circus debuts in her basement after school.

People always seem suprised that I have any rhythm at all. I don’t mind that whatsoever. It’s sort of my calling card that, man, you don’t know a thing about me.

everybody here’s afraid of fun
April 23, 2010, 4:44 am
Filed under: popconsumption

This, on repeat, to/from work.

And nobody’s falling in love
Everybody here needs a shove
And nobody’s getting any touch
Everybody thinks that it means too much
And nobody’s coming undone
Everybody here’s afraid of fun
And nobody’s getting any play
It’s the saddest night out in the U.S.A.

Throwback LCD Soundsystem from my basement apartment where old Arcade Fire will always take me right to. The intro to the song makes me lose my mind a bit, still.

This crazy modern dance video tribute to the song is pretty much what I expect will happen when I kick it in Toronto for a few days in a couple of weeks:

the legend of g-man
April 22, 2010, 2:26 am
Filed under: when I grow up

This universe throws me a lot of what I need when I need it.

After the last entry, a psychic call and just the conversation necessary.

And then.

Now that I’m booked (you hear me? Booked. Endless summer, here we go), I’ve been feeling off about it. Past worries about leaving the job/blowing the career. Fuck that noise. I worry a little bit about giving up the opportunity to earn an upper middle first world income. Which is ironic given that I don’t want the trappings of an upper middle first world life. I worry, a little, that my future partner will have to work harder than they should because I’m walking away from this.

And as I’m worrying about all those things, how we do, I get a call that L.G. is with our friends, G-Man and A., actually two that are responsible for getting us together-together, and the three of them popped a bottle of champagne when L.G. announced that I was coming. I can picture all of them, and I love that they’re the kind of people that would do that.

The story of G. G is from another country and when he came to college he didn’t speak any English. L.G. and G-Man were in the same fairly difficult program. I can’t imagine starting a new language and expecting to be a successful professional in it at eighteen. Anyways, G-Man decided he’d do that, so he did. He also decided to become a better surfer, having grown up somewhere without much of a surf community. That’s how he singled out L.G.

In his broken English, he began to repeatedly ask L.G. to go surfing. My boyfriend, being sort of a private school elitist at that point in his life, ignored this. G-Man persisted, over months, at English and getting L.G. to hang out with him. They wound up best friends, and surfing buddies.

He has a toothy grin and a crazy sense of humor and a sort of resourcefulness you get when you grew up with your parents as militia in a decade long civil war. He’s an amazing friend and a lovely boyfriend to A (they fell in love in their second languages), naturally compassionate.

I look at my peers and the society I live in, with self help and personal development and so much applause for the relatively mundane. Then, I look at G-man.

I needed that visual to get me thinking about rewards instead of risks, tonight. I needed my three friends, breaking out the bubbles, getting ready for the rest of our lives.

April 20, 2010, 6:03 am
Filed under: insight

Is not being around close friends making me a bad friend?

Abnormal unsolicited worrisome talking point of the day.

Is there any real point in placing an extremely high value on friendship?

Promiscuity in friendship is interesting, though disheartening. Like romance, friendship is fetishized in television and movies. How many people have the kind of fiercely loyal bonds we aspire to? How many of those bonds can be sustained? Would we want more if we could?

Popularity and having a lot of friends, not so much the same. Popularity means being well liked. It’s very possible to be popular with few friends, the inverse is also true.

Groups, community, and friends, are also different. Communities are fertile grounds for friendship: common interests, proximity, propinquity. Groups make friendships more sustainable by smoothing the rough parts in specific relationships via commitment to the general group. More glue.

Thinking about friends. Is who we retain somewhat random? Are those who have more opportunity to make new friends, not unlike the opportunity to date new people, more likely to do just that, sometimes electing to end other relationships?

Bright Young Things.
April 18, 2010, 5:03 pm
Filed under: runaway

Friday… ridiculous… shots… new friends… all in media, various forms… causing me to sleep all day and drink mango juice on Saturday. When drinking beer I never feel like eating and the result is bad. I think I had five pints, plus most of a ceasar, plus five shots, half a chicken finger and some barbeque sauce. Lights, out.

Saturday. Bourgeoisie, auction and free champagne thing, entertained by musicians in every room. I straightened my hair for the first time in maybe two years and wore the little black dress. Made a note to give away the shoes I was wearing as the straps cut into flesh over several hours. Felt bloated from beer the night before, too bloated to enjoy the little cups of lobster and prime rib being ferried around. Eating shellfish this far from ocean, as weird as straightening my hair.

There’s nothing to miss about that scene but it’s been interesting to observe and investigate from the inside, to be a patron. A bit, to see what blending in might feel like, if it is possible. In some ways, answering the question: are these people any better than the rest? Are the parties more fun? Is the food nicer? Are the conversations more intelligent and full of the right social graces? Eh, not really.

April 16, 2010, 4:55 am
Filed under: when I grow up

There is a package at the post, I think it’s the mid-February one from L.G., stuffed with things I miss and other treats. To be investigated at 8 am tomorrow! Today he sent me an email about how monkeys had entered his building and were running around, as he was writing the letter one was watching him, licking its blue testicles and looking for a chase.

L.G. describes it as an epic staredown. He shuffled his cheese and tomato sandwich away from the monkey and kept writing me.

Last month I hit the target I was told to hit. This month I’m lagging for no real reason at the halfway point. I feel like meeting expectations absolves me for anything else. I know it’s only four more benchmarks, including this one, but this month won’t be easy.

I actually can’t imagine what work outside of this realm is going to be like. I wonder if the problems I’m having are (a) because I don’t actually like a lot of the work, (b) because I have ingrained productivity problems that will persist no matter what I end up doing, (c) a reflection that I’m not well suited to traditional hours and office environments, (d) all of the above, (e) none of the above.

No one ever promised you would like your job.
It’s not about easier.

But I seriously, right now, have trouble visualizing what this version of myself is like in in another line of work. It’s been years, and four jobs, since I’ve worked out of this industry. An entire period of Personal Growth and Development has taken place since I left a part time gig in “public relations” at a wee 22 years old. Considering how disconcerting it was to start working in this field, will it be as strange to go back outside of it?