What really matters is what you like, not what you *are* like

The full quote:

"...I agreed that what really matters is what you like, not what you are like... Books, records, films - these things matter. Call me shallow but it's the fuckin' truth, and by this measure I was having one of the best dates of my life." ~High Fidelity

I recently got into a debate about the validity of the above quote, and while it's not by any means the golden rule, there have been too many instances in my life and my friends' lives that prove having the right pop culture favorites in common can go a long way.

The opposite is clearly also true, and obviously more volatile.

A fellow and I had been dating for several months. We were being snuggly on the couch and talking about local music festivals, one of which we happened to both attend long before meeting each other. I mentioned I thought Wilco was, "just kinda okay," and he was suddenly no longer holding my hand. He was agitated, even disgusted. I was fairly certain he was going to break up with me on the spot. Internally I wasn't sure if I should back peddle and talk up specific music nerd qualities I particularly enjoyed about Wilco, or defend my "meh" stance. But my main thought was simply, "What the fuck?"

A gal friend recounted watching a very dramatic and heated debate between her boyfriend (Joe) and his bff (Mike). The two gents had been best friends since grade school, but at a bar a few months ago Joe discovered Mike liked The Rolling Stones far more than The Beatles. Joe was livid. Hurt. Betrayed. How could he have not known this about Mike, despite living in a small town in Kansas together all these years? How could Mike be so stupid and tasteless? Mike stood firm. Joe nearly friend broke up with Mike that night, nearly ended a life long friendship over pop music band favorites.

While these sorts of anecdotes are endless (and also endlessly enjoyable), my intent for this post is to begin a new set of prompts for My Favorite Things as they are remembered and discovered. Hopefully it will provide some good self insights and possible cultural favoritism discussions among my friends, acquaintances, and readers. ^_^

Valentine's Day Afterthoughts

Perhaps it was the uncharacteristic downpour (verses a customary mizzle) this past weekend, but the recent holiday of love/hate/spite was particularly pervasive. I was surprised how many of my friends and acquaintances (read: Facebook friends) were affected.

• Many folks were avoiding leaving their homes, or avoiding all people in general, as if going to hang at the neighborhood bar would infect the plague.
• Others were scrambling for plans. Omfg please don't leave me alone! I don't want to be Lonely.
• Yet simultaneously an unwillingness to commit to anything solid... just in case.
• The absurdity of watching the over analysis of otherwise platonic social invitations.
• Random outcries of hate! And desire! And more hate!

I ended up with a motley group of friends, single and not, drinking the blanket anxiety away and making whiskey-fueled merriment. As for me, I was happy to be single. This time last year was rough. Constant fighting with my then partner, and I'd been recently laid off. A breakup followed shortly thereafter. Frolicking in the land of free and clear dating has been a welcome change to the many years of long term relationship. What's the big deal? Sure, it'd be nice to fall asleep in a pair of cuddly arms, but I was perfectly happy spending another night in an empty bed, same as any other night. It was kind of comforting really. I kept my mouth shut, knowing I'd be very unpopular otherwise.

Walking home alone that evening a Whitney Houston song popped into my head, one of my first favorite songs around age 5. It seemed to sum up well, everything really. A very happy-go-lucky dance song whose beat urges the listener to bop and smile, but delineating the woes of loneliness, heartbreak, and longing at the same time was exactly the smiling-through-gritted-teeth-slash-tears that filled the air of the pub all night.

I laughed out loud at the thought, secret shimmying down a wet alley and looking around, half hoping someone heard me so I could share the small, giddy revelation. (Music Nerd Sidenote: I Wanna Dance With Somebody is pretty much the 1986 version of I Don't Feel Like Dancing by the Scissor Sisters. Just sayin'.)

So when the night falls/My lonely heart calls...

Now you've done it!

Hooray! I've finally started a public blog, just like I always said I would.


I've been sitting at the same internet cafe for about 7 hours now. My bum is half asleep, I'm highly caffeinated, and I'm maybe about to witness another round of barista shifts end. Life is absurd and satisfying.


A few random items:

• I am highly curious to see what the folks out there in internet land do with YouTube Doubler. So far it seems that pairing a crazy rant with hip hop beats or silly mid-90's songs is highly amusing.The possibilities are endless!
• A teenager at the table next to me just asked her friends, "Who is Peewee Herman?" My eyes grew wide and I'm glad I managed to not gasp aloud. Don't these kids watch VH1's I Love the 80's? Le sigh.
• "Tom's Diner" by Suzane Vega is even creepier a Capella.

Tonight I drink to The Blank Page.