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. ^_^
Monday, August 9, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
the way things go in times of woe
Goings on in the past several days: my 90-year-old grandmother had to have a toe amputated. A semi-distant cousin committed suicide. After 3 interviews with a great company they've decided to hire an internal candidate.
But in all of this my biggest concern is the reminder that my family, particularly my mother, doesn't acknowledge that psychology is a Real Thing. She does not believe, despite the fact that it genetically runs on both sides of the family, that depression exists.
How many people in the family have to kill themselves, or attempt as such, before my parents can stop making fun of my sister for going to free counseling when she was in college?
But in all of this my biggest concern is the reminder that my family, particularly my mother, doesn't acknowledge that psychology is a Real Thing. She does not believe, despite the fact that it genetically runs on both sides of the family, that depression exists.
How many people in the family have to kill themselves, or attempt as such, before my parents can stop making fun of my sister for going to free counseling when she was in college?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
6 word autobiographies
strong handshake, precocious eyes, sly smile
blushing bibliophile always has book recommendations
mischievously frolicking in fields of wit
often prefers to summarize in haiku
succulently sarcastic siren seeks surreal synchronicity
how her belly loved to undulate
slightly manic instigator socially lubricates all
absurdly efficient at the mostly mundane
top shelf liquors and questionable morals
vocabulary nerd desires a lunch date
aspiring acrobat prefers to fly upsidedown
naked tongues love a good story
blushing bibliophile always has book recommendations
mischievously frolicking in fields of wit
often prefers to summarize in haiku
succulently sarcastic siren seeks surreal synchronicity
how her belly loved to undulate
slightly manic instigator socially lubricates all
absurdly efficient at the mostly mundane
top shelf liquors and questionable morals
vocabulary nerd desires a lunch date
aspiring acrobat prefers to fly upsidedown
naked tongues love a good story
Monday, July 12, 2010
I'll sleep when I'm dead
wedding, whiskey, good pals
moto ride, belly teach yay
none of these things suck
moto ride, belly teach yay
none of these things suck
Monday, June 28, 2010
Happy Anniversary of My Existence Haikus
Written over the course of June 25 - 27. My date of birth is June 26th. Thank you to "Chops" Roethle for the last minute invite. An unexpected camping adventure is exactly what I needed.
---
4am pick up
I haven't slept since Tuesday
this better be good
en route to Ross Lake
camp mates' faces still sleep stained
but I chatter, giddy
Pacific Northwest:
I suddenly understand
Pantheism
wee motor boats
travel to each waterfall
in each splash: beauty
I frolic and swim
black bikini and Keen shoes
ultimate freedom
all glacier water
we could swim to Canada
if we wouldn't freeze
sun baking brown skin
icy pools refresh past flesh
rinse/repeat indeed
---
4am pick up
I haven't slept since Tuesday
this better be good
en route to Ross Lake
camp mates' faces still sleep stained
but I chatter, giddy
Pacific Northwest:
I suddenly understand
Pantheism
wee motor boats
travel to each waterfall
in each splash: beauty
I frolic and swim
black bikini and Keen shoes
ultimate freedom
all glacier water
we could swim to Canada
if we wouldn't freeze
sun baking brown skin
icy pools refresh past flesh
rinse/repeat indeed
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
Fractured Atlas + The Young Invincibles + Please donate?
Following up to the previous post, check out The Young Invincibles' profile on Fractured Atlas. There's even a link for contributions and donations* to the project!
While you're there, take a moment to browse the other projects sponsored by Fractured Atlas. For example, Hank Willis Thomas is making some pretty darn neat stuff.
*The Young Invincibles is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions in behalf of The Young Invincibles may be made payable to Fractured Atlas and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.
While you're there, take a moment to browse the other projects sponsored by Fractured Atlas. For example, Hank Willis Thomas is making some pretty darn neat stuff.
*The Young Invincibles is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions in behalf of The Young Invincibles may be made payable to Fractured Atlas and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Young Invincibles and Me
A childhood friend, Aaron Oetting, and his lovely wife Sarah, are in the process of making a full length independent film called The Young Invincibles. The Young Invincibles is an intimate look into the lives of three young adults with various stages of cancer as each deals with issues surrounding sex, career paths, and support from friends and family. While the movie is still in its initial stages, Sarah and Aaron have decided to chronicle their film making journey in blog form. Check out the first entry here.
Recently Sarah and Aaron approached me about being the project blog's main writer, as well as manage any future online media to promote The Young Invincibles and its inevitable adventures. Of course, I accepted.
While this is unfortunately a non-paying gig (boohiss!), it is certain to be an awesomely wild ride and excellent professional experience. I am so thrilled to be part of this dynamic team!
My inaugural post announces some big news for The Young Invincibles. Read all about it!
Recently Sarah and Aaron approached me about being the project blog's main writer, as well as manage any future online media to promote The Young Invincibles and its inevitable adventures. Of course, I accepted.
While this is unfortunately a non-paying gig (boohiss!), it is certain to be an awesomely wild ride and excellent professional experience. I am so thrilled to be part of this dynamic team!
My inaugural post announces some big news for The Young Invincibles. Read all about it!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Memorial Weekend Drunk Writing Fest
My roommate had the brilliant idea of getting a bunch of creative people together with booze, laptops, notepads, and random writing prompts (if the author didn't already have a project). The following is unfinished but not bad for a timed writing in which alcohol and social chatter were a main distracting factors.
---
Having a fear of the color mauve was proving highly unlucky that day. Lucy cautiously wandered the lingerie section of a downtown department store sizing up the rows of gaudy unmentionables and formulating a mental plan of attack. On her lunch breaks Lucy would soothe her nerves by reorganizing racks of clothing or make-up stock counters. Apparently mauve was "in" this summer. It reminded her of a vague sorbet dessert topped with cream and surrounded by a halo of berries.
Mauve. Ugh, it made her shudder. Ruched boy-cut booty shorts in mauve silk with a black and white lace trim. Perhaps that particular display would not be OCD-ified this afternoon. She turned the corner down a long isle and began facing brassiere hangers. One day each of these padded bras will belong to someone, she thought, and her mind wandered to the possibility of geotagging specs of DNA, and why the prospect of touching piles of undies didn't freak her out as long as they were neatly stacked with all the waistbands parallel to the floor.
"Might I help you find something?" A slim manicured store associate interrupted her meticulous zen. The sterile name tag announced his arrival: Ricardo. Ricardo's bow tie was a sleek shade of butternut squash, perfectly complimenting his moisturized olive skin. Lucy was startled but unsurprised. Helpful customer service employees are just vampires for commission, and they were always sucking at her lunch time meditations. "No thank you, just browsing." As Ricardo swished away Lucy admired the golden ratio angles of his body, the balance of his strut, and the faint trail of mathematical algorithms left in his wake.
Right hoodie pocket buzzing. A text from Cousin Lenni: Call me. Like any Cousin Lenni should be, Lenni was kinda sketchy, but calls from him were generally bizarre and always amusing. Lucy exited the store with a small knowing smile. Lucy didn't own a raincoat. The so-called Emerald City didn't see much rain in during its stretch of summer, but the nine plus months of white grey sky and mist piss drizzle wasn't much of a real threat, and raincoats did little to keep out the passive aggressiveness of the city from seeping under the skin. Also, umbrellas are for pussies, not Seattleites, so stepping directly in the wet air suited her just fine.
Piped directly into her skull, Lenni's voice didn't bother with introductions. "Hypothetical: An older woman I know wants to watch a friend and me fuck each other and is willing to pay for the show. How much should I charge?" "Depends. Please elaborate."
Lenni, "Supply/demand analysis. How much people are willing to pay, and how much people would want to get paid."
Lucy, "I'd say 500 to 700 bucks. Each. But any touching from the old lady would be extra."
"Dang. That's a lot more than the current poll average. Have you thought about this before?"
"Not necessarily, but I've been on those fancy information tubes so I maybe the median rate for voyeuristic sex acts found its way into my brain somehow? I totally thought I was low balling it."
"See, this is why I wanted your input. Your perspective is so refreshing. I'll tally the poll results and blog about it later."
---
Prompt from cohorts: flamboyant, racy, obsessive-compulsive disorder, mauve
---
Having a fear of the color mauve was proving highly unlucky that day. Lucy cautiously wandered the lingerie section of a downtown department store sizing up the rows of gaudy unmentionables and formulating a mental plan of attack. On her lunch breaks Lucy would soothe her nerves by reorganizing racks of clothing or make-up stock counters. Apparently mauve was "in" this summer. It reminded her of a vague sorbet dessert topped with cream and surrounded by a halo of berries.
Mauve. Ugh, it made her shudder. Ruched boy-cut booty shorts in mauve silk with a black and white lace trim. Perhaps that particular display would not be OCD-ified this afternoon. She turned the corner down a long isle and began facing brassiere hangers. One day each of these padded bras will belong to someone, she thought, and her mind wandered to the possibility of geotagging specs of DNA, and why the prospect of touching piles of undies didn't freak her out as long as they were neatly stacked with all the waistbands parallel to the floor.
"Might I help you find something?" A slim manicured store associate interrupted her meticulous zen. The sterile name tag announced his arrival: Ricardo. Ricardo's bow tie was a sleek shade of butternut squash, perfectly complimenting his moisturized olive skin. Lucy was startled but unsurprised. Helpful customer service employees are just vampires for commission, and they were always sucking at her lunch time meditations. "No thank you, just browsing." As Ricardo swished away Lucy admired the golden ratio angles of his body, the balance of his strut, and the faint trail of mathematical algorithms left in his wake.
Right hoodie pocket buzzing. A text from Cousin Lenni: Call me. Like any Cousin Lenni should be, Lenni was kinda sketchy, but calls from him were generally bizarre and always amusing. Lucy exited the store with a small knowing smile. Lucy didn't own a raincoat. The so-called Emerald City didn't see much rain in during its stretch of summer, but the nine plus months of white grey sky and mist piss drizzle wasn't much of a real threat, and raincoats did little to keep out the passive aggressiveness of the city from seeping under the skin. Also, umbrellas are for pussies, not Seattleites, so stepping directly in the wet air suited her just fine.
Piped directly into her skull, Lenni's voice didn't bother with introductions. "Hypothetical: An older woman I know wants to watch a friend and me fuck each other and is willing to pay for the show. How much should I charge?" "Depends. Please elaborate."
Lenni, "Supply/demand analysis. How much people are willing to pay, and how much people would want to get paid."
Lucy, "I'd say 500 to 700 bucks. Each. But any touching from the old lady would be extra."
"Dang. That's a lot more than the current poll average. Have you thought about this before?"
"Not necessarily, but I've been on those fancy information tubes so I maybe the median rate for voyeuristic sex acts found its way into my brain somehow? I totally thought I was low balling it."
"See, this is why I wanted your input. Your perspective is so refreshing. I'll tally the poll results and blog about it later."
---
Prompt from cohorts: flamboyant, racy, obsessive-compulsive disorder, mauve
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Currently: Still Unemployed
Happy anniversary to me!
Yesterday I received a letter in the mail informing me that, after May 31st, my amazingly low COBRA insurance rate will no longer be available. Thank you Mr. Stimulus Plan, you have done wonderful things for me. The end of affordable medical coverage for the pink slip army marks my 15 month anniversary of unemployment. Yowza, that's a really long time. It's like Obama himself saying to me, "Time to get a job, slacker!"
Times Are Tough These Days seems to be the mantra of the last couple years. Another unemployed friend recently lamented that out of 400 applications for a mediocre admin position, making it to the final 5 candidates didn't even warrant a rejection letter. Harsh, but come to think of it I don't think I've received any rejection letters from any of the 1-2 companies per week with whom I've interviewed. Double harsh.
My original goal was to obtain a job by the end of April, as that's when my bus pass expired. A random deadline, but a failed one nonetheless. Soon it will be time to apply for a second UI extension. Even though I've been unemployed a couple of times before (yay tech industry!) the job market jungle has never been this cut throat. Even though I'm far from a slacker, I sure do feel like one now. Dang.
Yesterday I received a letter in the mail informing me that, after May 31st, my amazingly low COBRA insurance rate will no longer be available. Thank you Mr. Stimulus Plan, you have done wonderful things for me. The end of affordable medical coverage for the pink slip army marks my 15 month anniversary of unemployment. Yowza, that's a really long time. It's like Obama himself saying to me, "Time to get a job, slacker!"
Times Are Tough These Days seems to be the mantra of the last couple years. Another unemployed friend recently lamented that out of 400 applications for a mediocre admin position, making it to the final 5 candidates didn't even warrant a rejection letter. Harsh, but come to think of it I don't think I've received any rejection letters from any of the 1-2 companies per week with whom I've interviewed. Double harsh.
My original goal was to obtain a job by the end of April, as that's when my bus pass expired. A random deadline, but a failed one nonetheless. Soon it will be time to apply for a second UI extension. Even though I've been unemployed a couple of times before (yay tech industry!) the job market jungle has never been this cut throat. Even though I'm far from a slacker, I sure do feel like one now. Dang.
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