It's true, I'm not particularly gossip savvy. I read, but with disjointed inconsistency (mainly I just pile up papers and magazines I intend to read until they are months old, with the vision of media acumen on my mind). But I am getting better...however slowly.
One site I never fail to read is Oh My God Seattle, a blog by my very close and oldest friend Steven (we've been friends since we played in the kiddy pools of our preschool days). I read Steven's blog religiously, logging in three, sometimes four times a day from my far away London flat to see if he's managed to update any posts with anecdotes of personal hilarity from home sweet home, despite the illogical time of day it is due to the time difference.
It was here on Steven's blog (which you really should check out :D) that I first read about Emily Gould, a young New York writer and former Gawker staffer. Emily, after suffering from the rising Internet epidemic of the overshare, wrote the New York Times Magazine cover story called Exposed all about her time and Gawker and what she's learned, subsequently, about herself.
I don't pretend to be a media critic, and it's true after reading the piece, that I feel for the girl – in fact, I can relate to her. In my personal life I've found myself to be a victim of the proclivity to overshare. It's not that I thrive on the attention (although everyone does enjoy a bit from time to time), I've just found myself to often too willingly give away personal experiences and thoughts of my own in an effort to weave some sort of meaningful exchange with people I meet and feel close to. Sometimes this is a wonderful thing that spawns the beginnings of a great friendship. Sometimes it's too much too soon. Luckily, I tend to keep what I post here, and in other freely accessible media, relatively removed, and when included, veiled.
But I've also come to accept that the path of most artists (and of course, writing is a form of art) is one that is almost always emotionally embedded. So how do you reconcile the two?
In her self-realizing story Emily talked about the experience of losing her willingness to blog – essentially writer's block. She lost her drive to write through the thespian means she had created. I find myself constantly not writing, not blogging, as I've intended to. If Emily took it too far, have I not taken it far enough? Is it writer's block or something else? I am exceedingly private about certain things, but of course, everything I write about is essentially personal on some level, so by that token, does all writing become an act of masked oversharing?
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
kitchen-side poetry
My flatmate showed me this poem, and I really loved it – somehow it just made sense to me. I feel I know exactly what at means (well what it means to me I guess)...which makes me wonder, if you read this, and it seems to mean something clear to you, tell me what it means to you...
Letter by Leonard Cohen
How you murdered your family
means nothing to me
as your mouth moves across my body
And I know your dreams
of crumbling cities and galloping horses
of the sun coming too close
and the night never ending
but these mean nothing to me
beside your body
I know that outside a war is raging
that you issue orders
that babies are smothered and generals beheaded
but blood means nothing to me
it does not disturb your flesh
tasting blood on your tongue
does not shock me
as my arms grow into your hair
Do not think I do not understand
what happens
after the troops have been massacred
and the harlots put to the sword
And I write this only to rob you
that when one morning my head
hangs dripping with the other generals
from your house gate
that all this was anticipated
and so you will know that it meant nothing to me.
Go ahead...tell me what you think!
Letter by Leonard Cohen
How you murdered your family
means nothing to me
as your mouth moves across my body
And I know your dreams
of crumbling cities and galloping horses
of the sun coming too close
and the night never ending
but these mean nothing to me
beside your body
I know that outside a war is raging
that you issue orders
that babies are smothered and generals beheaded
but blood means nothing to me
it does not disturb your flesh
tasting blood on your tongue
does not shock me
as my arms grow into your hair
Do not think I do not understand
what happens
after the troops have been massacred
and the harlots put to the sword
And I write this only to rob you
that when one morning my head
hangs dripping with the other generals
from your house gate
that all this was anticipated
and so you will know that it meant nothing to me.
Go ahead...tell me what you think!
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Stonehenge = magical mystery stones
Here's my latest story! I totally forgot to link it until now."Stonehenge mystery hinges on unusual stones"
2-year-long "to do" list
Two years ago a lovely boy I met gave me a list of 20 books I absolutely, 100%, MUST read the following summer. I didn't get through the list, but I did keep it (nicely tacked up on my wall for nearly 730 days now) and I keep trying to make a dent, so I thought I'd share it with you lovelies in case anyone wants to take the wise words of a lovely boy who curls up with his favorite books on a daily basis :D (There are bonus books at the bottom for you eager achievers you :P)
Andrew's 20 books that are a MUST read for this summer - good luck!
1. Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card
2. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
3. Out of the Silent Planet - C.S. Lewis
4. The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
5. The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway
6. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
7. Casino Royale - Ian Fleming
8. The Diaries of Adam and Eve - Mark Twain
9. Martin and John - Dale Peck
10. Othello - William Shakespeare
11. The Wizard of Earthsea - Ursula K. LeGuin
12. Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
13. The Dubliner - James Joyce
14. The Firm - John Grisham
15. The Twits - Roald Dahl
16. Second Variety - Philip K. Dick
17. The Screwtape Letters - C.S. Lewis
18. The Hobbitt - J.R.R. Tolkien
19. Big Trouble - Dave Barry
20. The Maltese Falcon – the movie
Extra Credit:
1. The Lord of the Rings - J.R.R. Tolkien
2. The Pillowman - Martin McDonagh
3. Travelling Companion - Hans Christian Andersen
4. The Hollow Man - T.S. Elliot
5. The Time Machine - H.G. Wells
6. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
Andrew's 20 books that are a MUST read for this summer - good luck!
1. Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card
2. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
3. Out of the Silent Planet - C.S. Lewis
4. The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
5. The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway
6. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
7. Casino Royale - Ian Fleming
8. The Diaries of Adam and Eve - Mark Twain
9. Martin and John - Dale Peck
10. Othello - William Shakespeare
11. The Wizard of Earthsea - Ursula K. LeGuin
12. Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
13. The Dubliner - James Joyce
14. The Firm - John Grisham
15. The Twits - Roald Dahl
16. Second Variety - Philip K. Dick
17. The Screwtape Letters - C.S. Lewis
18. The Hobbitt - J.R.R. Tolkien
19. Big Trouble - Dave Barry
20. The Maltese Falcon – the movie
Extra Credit:
1. The Lord of the Rings - J.R.R. Tolkien
2. The Pillowman - Martin McDonagh
3. Travelling Companion - Hans Christian Andersen
4. The Hollow Man - T.S. Elliot
5. The Time Machine - H.G. Wells
6. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
some people shouldn't be allowed to write facebook messages past 3 am
the following post is quite old, over two years in fact. I wrote it one amazingly memorable night when I was up late cramming to read and write a final paper (which i got 100% on i'll have you know, my one and only time i've received full marks since i've been in college!) when i met my dear friend andrew barton – it was serendipitous really, we stayed up all night working together, caffeine-binging and fanciful literature-talking :D then i sent him this message, and now, re-reading it two years later, i don't know why he stayed friends with me...i was crazy! (and yet, i am oh so grateful :P)
April 6, 2006 (mid essay) – facebook message to Andrew
haha! i win! (in case you missed the headline!) "win at what?" you're probably asking yourself...well i'll tell you. i win at facebook friending you first - the result of the undeniable situation that after 8+ hours of bonding over sleep-deprivation, your are simply obligated to commit your relationship to the status of friends on a college server for all the world (or at least the educated world, or at least those attempting to be part of the educated world) to see! the choice is clear - you hate them and never friend them or talk to them again, or you don't and you facebook them ( i suppose you could hate and facebook at the same time, but only the most twisted of types do so for the ego gratification that comes with adding one more number to your so-called "pals").. anyways, i beat you to it, b/c i'm taking a quick breather from my essay (after my spanish thingy, which i did end up going to) in case you're wondering! then, maybe because i'm dilussionally tired or maybe because i have some adderall (sp?) left in my system, i felt the creative urge to write you a long and complicating message that displays my sincere wit, even after (or rather, especially after) a night of unrest, recreational drug use and lots and lots of reading! i know, you're probably sitting there right now, thinking that you met this girl who's completely amazing in her ability to type nonsensical nonsense (for lack of better adjectives...twice) when she should be doing other, more important things. i know it, but hey, when you feel compelled to do something, you simply must do it. is this not a, oh how did you put it, "human truth?" was that it? i can't really remember. and now... my legs are tingling... that can't be good... but oh well, no reason to dwell on it. my body might be wearing, but my mind is still going a mile a minute with "tired talk." i like that phrase, can you believe i've just coined it? look at that, you've just witnessed a piece of linguistical history... or is it more jargon than anything else? no, not jargon... or will it end up being a colloquial that only i understand (and maybe now you, simply because i'm ranting on about it). honestly, if this were me, i would have stopped reading ages ago... i don't even know what i'm writing any more, so i don't see why you're taking an interest to it. i hope, if nothing else, that this is entertaining and that my aspirations of it being so is not just wishful thinking on my part.... i'm surprised i'm thinking coherently (at least relatively so) at all, personally. anyways. let's clear one of two things up. first off, good luck with those poems...we'll have to swap work sometime, although i must admit i am somewhat intimidated by your knowledge of english - i feel it far surpasses mine... but the hell with fears, as i think i established last night/this morning (i should make that my manifesto or something insane like that). second, i swear that i am not usually this disorganized. i don't mean to say i'm not crazy, i am... but you're a theater major, you have to be used to crazies, and i digress. you may have first found my splatter-brain-ness charming and need i say adorable (and i hope here that you sense my irrational amount of satire), however, under normal circumstances (i.e. a shower, non boy size clothes, at least 4 hours of sleep and a matcha tea latte) i can usually pass for a normal person, most mornings at least. although, who wants to be normal…normal is mediocre... and i hate the idea of mediocrity. anyways, after this entire morning i'm sure you think i'm a coke fiend - never have i been or could i be such a thing! i just don't have the patience for addictions or drugs (which bears an interesting question...why the adderall?) well... many great authors have experimented with things that bring them out of their normal mind and conceptions. this of course was not my reason, but i see it as a one-time bonus, brownie points if you will. and this... this very thing i'm typing, is the only sustainable proof - and i should probably keep it at that, b/c to you it probably isn't great (and to me, well, i'll probably be deleting this later), but in any case... there it is. now i really can't believe you're still reading this....! ha, you're a bit of a fool i guess, as much as i am for writing it. honestly, i might as well be ridiculous towards you, and since we did just meet, i'm incapable of being embarrassed by this at all... it's a beautiful situation. and there you have it. now i'm fairly certain that i've been typing this for a good 12 minutes or so.... which is far too long for a facebook message, and i must get back to my paper. good night, and good luck (journalism reference, get it? get it? ahaha). and i'm sure you already have or will sustain a headache from all the typing errors i've made due to my speed (physically typing and physically speaking in general)... and so i say, bye again (i don't want to overuse the reference thing, although i wish you both again). damn you must have patience.....look at this thing, it's the f-ing iliad of facebook messaging! i'm exhausting myself just thinking about it... ;)
April 6, 2006 (mid essay) – facebook message to Andrew
haha! i win! (in case you missed the headline!) "win at what?" you're probably asking yourself...well i'll tell you. i win at facebook friending you first - the result of the undeniable situation that after 8+ hours of bonding over sleep-deprivation, your are simply obligated to commit your relationship to the status of friends on a college server for all the world (or at least the educated world, or at least those attempting to be part of the educated world) to see! the choice is clear - you hate them and never friend them or talk to them again, or you don't and you facebook them ( i suppose you could hate and facebook at the same time, but only the most twisted of types do so for the ego gratification that comes with adding one more number to your so-called "pals").. anyways, i beat you to it, b/c i'm taking a quick breather from my essay (after my spanish thingy, which i did end up going to) in case you're wondering! then, maybe because i'm dilussionally tired or maybe because i have some adderall (sp?) left in my system, i felt the creative urge to write you a long and complicating message that displays my sincere wit, even after (or rather, especially after) a night of unrest, recreational drug use and lots and lots of reading! i know, you're probably sitting there right now, thinking that you met this girl who's completely amazing in her ability to type nonsensical nonsense (for lack of better adjectives...twice) when she should be doing other, more important things. i know it, but hey, when you feel compelled to do something, you simply must do it. is this not a, oh how did you put it, "human truth?" was that it? i can't really remember. and now... my legs are tingling... that can't be good... but oh well, no reason to dwell on it. my body might be wearing, but my mind is still going a mile a minute with "tired talk." i like that phrase, can you believe i've just coined it? look at that, you've just witnessed a piece of linguistical history... or is it more jargon than anything else? no, not jargon... or will it end up being a colloquial that only i understand (and maybe now you, simply because i'm ranting on about it). honestly, if this were me, i would have stopped reading ages ago... i don't even know what i'm writing any more, so i don't see why you're taking an interest to it. i hope, if nothing else, that this is entertaining and that my aspirations of it being so is not just wishful thinking on my part.... i'm surprised i'm thinking coherently (at least relatively so) at all, personally. anyways. let's clear one of two things up. first off, good luck with those poems...we'll have to swap work sometime, although i must admit i am somewhat intimidated by your knowledge of english - i feel it far surpasses mine... but the hell with fears, as i think i established last night/this morning (i should make that my manifesto or something insane like that). second, i swear that i am not usually this disorganized. i don't mean to say i'm not crazy, i am... but you're a theater major, you have to be used to crazies, and i digress. you may have first found my splatter-brain-ness charming and need i say adorable (and i hope here that you sense my irrational amount of satire), however, under normal circumstances (i.e. a shower, non boy size clothes, at least 4 hours of sleep and a matcha tea latte) i can usually pass for a normal person, most mornings at least. although, who wants to be normal…normal is mediocre... and i hate the idea of mediocrity. anyways, after this entire morning i'm sure you think i'm a coke fiend - never have i been or could i be such a thing! i just don't have the patience for addictions or drugs (which bears an interesting question...why the adderall?) well... many great authors have experimented with things that bring them out of their normal mind and conceptions. this of course was not my reason, but i see it as a one-time bonus, brownie points if you will. and this... this very thing i'm typing, is the only sustainable proof - and i should probably keep it at that, b/c to you it probably isn't great (and to me, well, i'll probably be deleting this later), but in any case... there it is. now i really can't believe you're still reading this....! ha, you're a bit of a fool i guess, as much as i am for writing it. honestly, i might as well be ridiculous towards you, and since we did just meet, i'm incapable of being embarrassed by this at all... it's a beautiful situation. and there you have it. now i'm fairly certain that i've been typing this for a good 12 minutes or so.... which is far too long for a facebook message, and i must get back to my paper. good night, and good luck (journalism reference, get it? get it? ahaha). and i'm sure you already have or will sustain a headache from all the typing errors i've made due to my speed (physically typing and physically speaking in general)... and so i say, bye again (i don't want to overuse the reference thing, although i wish you both again). damn you must have patience.....look at this thing, it's the f-ing iliad of facebook messaging! i'm exhausting myself just thinking about it... ;)
what girls discuss via skype
anonymous friend: so the other night, we had the best sex ever.
me: uh huh
friend: no! you don't understand! like, ever, ever, ever, EVER! best EVVVVVEERRRRR!!!
me: okay. so what's the matter then?
friend: well then, it was really weird. i started crying...
me: really? (a bit shocked)
[skype cuts out, then comes back after a few minutes of intense pixilation]
friend: i know! it was so weird. he didn't see though, thank god.
me: but...you don't...i mean...you don't right?
friend: no way! i can't stand him! i really dislike him as a person, he's soooooo irritating!
me: right.
friend: so the next day he was really bugging me. like REALLY irritating me. I couldn't hardly stand it!
me: o.k.
friend: and he took me to the train station, and when i left he was like 'i love you.'
me: wow, well that's a bit awkward i guess, but it's nothing he hasn't said before...
friend: and i cried again!!!
me: what?! that's so weird...what's going on?
friend: i have no idea because i really can't stand him at all. like, he's an infant.
me: so what are you going to do?
friend: nothing. i don't think it'll happen again, i think something weird was just going on with me, because there's no way i have feelings for him...he drives me crazy!
me: right. o.k. then.
friend: but dude, seriously, best sex EVER!
me: uh huh
friend: no! you don't understand! like, ever, ever, ever, EVER! best EVVVVVEERRRRR!!!
me: okay. so what's the matter then?
friend: well then, it was really weird. i started crying...
me: really? (a bit shocked)
[skype cuts out, then comes back after a few minutes of intense pixilation]
friend: i know! it was so weird. he didn't see though, thank god.
me: but...you don't...i mean...you don't right?
friend: no way! i can't stand him! i really dislike him as a person, he's soooooo irritating!
me: right.
friend: so the next day he was really bugging me. like REALLY irritating me. I couldn't hardly stand it!
me: o.k.
friend: and he took me to the train station, and when i left he was like 'i love you.'
me: wow, well that's a bit awkward i guess, but it's nothing he hasn't said before...
friend: and i cried again!!!
me: what?! that's so weird...what's going on?
friend: i have no idea because i really can't stand him at all. like, he's an infant.
me: so what are you going to do?
friend: nothing. i don't think it'll happen again, i think something weird was just going on with me, because there's no way i have feelings for him...he drives me crazy!
me: right. o.k. then.
friend: but dude, seriously, best sex EVER!
Thursday, May 1, 2008
with a little help from noise canceling headphones...
It's amazing what a little sound isolation will do...I was sitting in my flat yesterday, teetering on the edge that deep dark abyss of self-critical existentialism, particularly because my time in London is coming to a close (it's not really, but I'm inching closer to that day, which scares me some), when my friend came 'round and immediately picked up on my craziness. Not exactly the model of perfect mental health himself, I never understood how he could get on with everything – when I get horribly introspective, I can't concentrate on anything at all (except for maybe the root of my horrible introspectiveness, which is a useless waste of time with no results, ever).
In an effort to keep my current lameness of conversational skills, I didn't say much. My friend looked at me, told me to "cheer the fuck up," then smiling broadly as if to say 'if only it were that easy,' dropped a pair of the most gigantic headphones I'd ever seen in my lap.
I knew immediately what I was meant to do with them. My friend was in a band, and he was always sending me all sorts of clips and working pieces of songs to listen to. Of course, I could never listen to them "properly" unless I had these apparently life-changing headphones. I was skeptical.
"It will change your entire musical experience," he said. "Everything sounds different."
He began rattling off a long list of artists who's music is magically transformed through the Sennheiser HD 215s I was tossing from hand to hand, twisting the cord through the fingers in one hand, then the other, then the first again.
My friend left, and I went back to being miserable (not that I ever left). It's not that I didn't want to "cheer the fuck up" as he so ironically put it, it was just that I didn't know how. So yes, feeding the misery was pointless and I wouldn't just sit in my room with my play-list on an Elliott Smith repeat binge, plotting all the many ways to cry or anything. I just couldn't snap myself out of it.
A little while later I was attempting to do some work while listening to music, sitting on my bed with my laptop on the desk chair in front of me, my usual routine. My flatmates had people over, as they often do, and I wasn't bothered except that I kept having to get up to let them in, my room being the closest to the door and the kitchen, where they were all congregating, the farthest.
I thought I'd try the fancy headphones. I selected my song carefully, something I knew I would like anyways, regardless of supposed magical listening powers contained by what looked like very sleek black earmuffs...
Radiohead will never be the same.
I played recent regulars – four Radiohead songs I play in the same order over and over before moving on to another album, or eventually switching to British pop-rock in an effort to swing my mood into something more cheery.
Creep...
Fake Plastic Trees...
High and Dry...
Karma Police...
I forgot about the outside world entirely. My world now = one of melodramatic tunes, and that is all. And somehow, it was quite comforting.
In an effort to keep my current lameness of conversational skills, I didn't say much. My friend looked at me, told me to "cheer the fuck up," then smiling broadly as if to say 'if only it were that easy,' dropped a pair of the most gigantic headphones I'd ever seen in my lap.
I knew immediately what I was meant to do with them. My friend was in a band, and he was always sending me all sorts of clips and working pieces of songs to listen to. Of course, I could never listen to them "properly" unless I had these apparently life-changing headphones. I was skeptical.
"It will change your entire musical experience," he said. "Everything sounds different."
He began rattling off a long list of artists who's music is magically transformed through the Sennheiser HD 215s I was tossing from hand to hand, twisting the cord through the fingers in one hand, then the other, then the first again.
My friend left, and I went back to being miserable (not that I ever left). It's not that I didn't want to "cheer the fuck up" as he so ironically put it, it was just that I didn't know how. So yes, feeding the misery was pointless and I wouldn't just sit in my room with my play-list on an Elliott Smith repeat binge, plotting all the many ways to cry or anything. I just couldn't snap myself out of it.
A little while later I was attempting to do some work while listening to music, sitting on my bed with my laptop on the desk chair in front of me, my usual routine. My flatmates had people over, as they often do, and I wasn't bothered except that I kept having to get up to let them in, my room being the closest to the door and the kitchen, where they were all congregating, the farthest.
I thought I'd try the fancy headphones. I selected my song carefully, something I knew I would like anyways, regardless of supposed magical listening powers contained by what looked like very sleek black earmuffs...
Radiohead will never be the same.
I played recent regulars – four Radiohead songs I play in the same order over and over before moving on to another album, or eventually switching to British pop-rock in an effort to swing my mood into something more cheery.
Creep...
Fake Plastic Trees...
High and Dry...
Karma Police...
I forgot about the outside world entirely. My world now = one of melodramatic tunes, and that is all. And somehow, it was quite comforting.
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