but who will watch my tv?

Moon Theory from Miami Horror on Vimeo.

sigh. hell with this. i'ma run off to the desert. barter my way into possession of a horse. survive off the land. trip on the local flora. ultimately come into a greater understanding of myself.

life as a nomad sounds totally okay to me. if the world ends in two years, i like to think i'll be one of the ones who looks around at the post-apocalyptic wasteland that was society, shrugs, and goes "ok. at least now there's room for creativity and a clear path to improvement." i'll throw the bare essentials in a backpack, maybe find a couple like-minded companions and a large, aggressive dog, and take to the open road. the thought of the world as we know it ending used to terrify me, but now i really feel like i could go either way. i just hope there's still blue sky and green grass and whatnot. the only part of the traditional doomsday survival scenario that i couldn't get down with is the oppressive color pallet.

all i really want is adventure. doesn't everyone pretty much? we must, since adventure sells so well. escapism. we wanna be pirates. we wanna save middle earth. etc etc etc. but most of us don't get to do that stuff. we just watch videos about other people doing it. but if armageddon happens... i mean, whatever else, we all get to be adventurers.

i for one will not complain. i for one will make the most of it. i just hope the people i like survive too.

first of all:

vote for me y'all.

it's that time of year again. the home stretch of the school year. i haven't really been in this headspace since high school and let me tell you it is killing me. two weeks left and suddenly every teacher decides to pile on the essays and projects and tests - not even counting finals - right when my motivation is at its absolute lowest and the thought of continuing to wake up and drive the thirty minutes to school is right up there next to chugging downy.

but it's also that time of year when i get to wander barefoot in the forest. so. that's nice.

i find myself unemployed, which is no funsies. the restaurant finally closed and i'm at loose ends. i've applied for a bunch of jobs, but even if one did call me i'd only be there for two months before i'm off to camp... so i'm leaning more towards trying to find a way to make little amounts of money here and there until july. thus far i have come up with the following.

pet psychic
busker
sell things on ebay
sell things at pawn shops
have a tag sale
have a bake sale
lemonade stand
topless lemonade stand
topless tag sale
topless pet psychic
ask one million people for one dollar each
caricatures
rob a bank

one or the other is bound to pan out.

also this:



webster hall 4/22. delightful show.

and they said nothing, could get a girl transferred

ok a couple things.

number one:



this is what i remember about the neverending story as a kid:

1. falcor scared the SHIT out of me
2. the Nothing scared the SHIT out of me and i didn't even remember what it was, just the name. "the nothing." for a little girl with a crazy imagination, that is enough.

i finally watched the neverending story again the other night. and after viewing it as a 'young adult,' i can draw only one logical conclusion: i never made it all the way through the neverending story as a kid, because if i had, it would have disturbed me for life.

here's the thing. i believe that kids are tripping. all the time. if you've taken acid, think back to what that was like, and then think back to your perception of the world as a lil tyke. they are the same. the younger the child, the harder he/she is trippin' balllllzzzz.

i mean look at childrens' television. look at the toys that fascinate babies and toddlers. look at how teeny tots react to things like bright swirly colors and patterns, or people making goofy faces at them. personally, i recall being absolutely in love with the sight of city lights as viewed from a highway at night. i still enjoy the sight, but when i was little it used to just drive me wild. i ate that shit UP.

so my point is this. you wouldn't wanna watch the neverending story on acid. and i wouldn't wanna show the neverending story to a small child. because those puppets are just so unnerving. and for chrissakes the horse drowns in a swamp.

numba 2:



i like ke$ha better knowing she was an awkward, chunky middle schooler who listened to radiohead.

i think i dreamed about snood a couple times back then.

i just downloaded snood for my mac. remember snood?



snood.

really takes me back, man. like back to when the interwebs were all shiny and new and exciting, and people went in "chatrooms" a lot because the novelty of being able to connect with strangers from around the world hadn't worn off yet.

(of course now we have chatroulette makin it shiny and new once more, which is nice for the time being. i wonder how long it will take before chatroulette devolves into a medium that is purely about cybering and absolutely nothing else, ala chatrooms.)

haven't played snood since the whole fam was sharing one single, long-suffering PC that lived in a high-traffic area in between the kitchen and living room. oh the memories. i burned my first mix CD on that computer. we had napster. my bro and i were like, this changes everything. such promise in the air. and then we'd all take turns playing snood and trying to beat each other's high scores.

quality family bonding circa 2001. a simpler time.

this is also a snood tho-



which is weird because i totally had one of those around the same era. for horse shows. clearly i rode english. only in english horseback riding would they require you to wear a hair accessory that pompous which also happens to be called a "snood." i felt pretty baller in mine, no lie.

snood the game totally holds up, let me just say. it is old school free demo fun to be sure.

86 the shepherd's pie

i wait tables at this terrible restaurant which is run by very well-meaning people who should not be running a restaurant. i'm getting pretty good at going up to people whose orders i've just taken and saying "so it turns out we're out of such-and-such a thing that you ordered, would you like to try thus-and-so instead?" or sometimes i mix it up and say "did you have a second choice?" i should start composing haiku...

i asked the kitchen
they said you are SOL
something else look good?

this used to embarrass me horribly when i worked at a real restaurant. i used to get horribly embarrassed a lot when i worked at a real restaurant, actually, and more often than not over things that weren't my fault at all; i just felt so dreadful when something would go wrong, i mean who can afford to go out to dinner too often these days so if something gets messed up then i've ruined your nice special evening out etc etc etc... and of course most people are dicks about it anyway, which doesn't help.

if i ran a restaurant, i would empower my employees. i would allow, nay, encourage my servers to behave like the staff at urban outfitters. customers would have to chase them down to have their orders taken. any belligerence would be received with the cold stare of a young, attractive service industry employee who knows he or she is not going to lose his or her job, and also that he or she is young and attractive.

i imagine we'd be open for three months, tops, but oh what a liberating three months.

also large headphones would be perfectly acceptable work attire.

bitches gotta learn

hey hey it's the blogosphere! what is going on.

if anyone but my mom read this blog, i would throw out some kind of "hey guys how is 2010 treating you." just to break the ice. because if a blog was a puddle, there would be ice on this one for sure. or possibly a layer of unidentifiable scum, and some mosquito larvae. this puddle don't get splashed through too often.

hey mom, how is 2010 treating you?

so far i like 2010. it's a lot less confusing than 2009. but you know what, i don't trust that shit anymore. just when you think "hey, i've got this life thing down! i'm maturing and growing as a person! everything's gonna be ok!" something else confusing happens and you realize you're still basically fourteen years old. (said the 20 year old.)

my communications teacher is a polish immigrant in her 30s who hates america, and americans, with a fiery burning passion. this was not immediately evident, but every class it becomes more apparent. the final thirty minutes or so of our last class session consisted of her making scathing remarks about american hypocrisy, greed, and brutality, all of which were prefaced by "i don't mean any offense, but" and accompanied by an ingratiating - and very fixed - smile.

now, i try not to be "that kid" who always has to have something to contribute, but i had to say something. i felt she was lumping our entire nation into a single ugly stereotype; possibly one of the less sympathetic side characters from "king of the hill." i tried to explain to her, respectfully, that while we are by no means a perfect people, one must take into account that there exists a distinct dichotomy in the american attitude. we are right or left; red or blue; conservative or liberal. rarely, if ever, shall the twain meet. and a lot of what she was attacking us for - our attitude towards immigrants, our tendency to get involved in countries that don't want our involvement - is, unfortunately, an image that our right-leaning citizens have cultivated.

she basically ignored me, and i would have shut up except that she then went on to ridicule us for watching the news. "it's so unreliable," she said. "it's so controlled. you have no idea if what you are watching is the truth, and you do not take the time to find out."

"okay," says i, "i'm not disagreeing with you, but in what country CAN they be certain that the news they're seeing hasn't been censored or edited in any way?"

again she basically ignores me. "it just amazes me; you americans trust your government so explicitly."

"no, we don't!" i say. i'm staring at her. i'm not smiling. (she still is.) "no we don't."

i shut up after that. but i mean like seriously you guys.

no we don't.

right?

that's what i thought.