Monday, November 5, 2001
My ten most-listened-to CDs for the past week, in no particular order:
Sunday, October 21, 2001
Monday, October 8, 2001
Sunday, October 7, 2001
Friday, August 24, 2001
Friday, August 17, 2001
There's a freak hailstorm outside. My eavestroughs are overflowing. It's only November. Strange.
1. Cake / Comfort Eagle
2. Stephen Malkmus / S/T
3. Miles Davis / Kind Of Blue
4. Britney Spears / Oops!... I Did It Again [yes, seriously]
5. Ben Folds / Rockin' The Suburbs
6. Pedro The Lion / Winners Never Quit
7. The Strokes / Is This It
8. Sloan / Pretty Together
9. Alicia Keys / Songs In A Minor
10. That Dog / Retreat From The Sun
I was cruising home along the freeway tonight. In the space of about five minutes, three different cars started to change lanes right into me, and I had to swerve each time. It made me wonder: could I have been invisible?
My theatre history professor once told me that the most effective mask a person can wear is the mask of silence. Your silence has created immeasurable tension between us. A chuckle, a word of caution, or an angry shout would end the confusion that has wracked my brain for the past few weeks. I know that you're feeling something beneath the mask. I know that I could accept that feeling, even if it were negatively directed at me. But until you end the silence, I don't know if I can be at peace.
The past month has been incredibly enlightening for me. I've read more than ever, found dear friends that I'd nearly forgotten I had, and woken up each morning with an overwhelming feeling of gratefulness for everything around me: this splendid city at the end of summer, my loving family and friends, an understanding of art, the ability to maintain or change one's direction in life, and above all, the realization that my heart, mind, and body are so much more valuable than my wallet. Last night I drove down to Seattle with my brother and friend Greg to see Pedro the Lion, and the show was amazing. It only affirmed my feeling that the world - my world - is a genuinely good place, something that too many people take for granted. I've taken a lot of time to smile lately, and the more I smile, the more the world seems to smile back.
i am an employee of the pacific national exhibition.
tassels and fireworks / hopes / pretty faces / eating disorders / scrutiny / imbalance / monotony / "i'm happy to be here." / chesterfield drama / learning to juggle / giddiness / sharky / decisions / money changing hands / games of love / guitar lessons / a scooter / cigarettes / circus freaks / concrete / exchanging funny faces / drawings / laziness / wave swinger / impressions / vocalization / the metronome / roller coasters / italian sandwiches / socializing / debit machines / traffic officers / recorded announcements / pop music / beer gardens / comfort and discomfort / meetings / infestation by rats / stage entrances / automation / a teeter-totter / change
It's been over a year since I've written here. I try to discern just what I've done in that year and the answer is one of complete passivity and routine. I haven't even been active enough to observe, let alone emote.
Things are slowly changing. For the first time in months, years, I am having independent thoughts, thoughts that betray you, thoughts that criticize or cherish or adore new things and people, thoughts that warrant writing down and hiding from you, thoughts that say "no." "No" has become the staple of my vocabulary with you. It empowers me; I wonder how it makes you feel.
I question the way you live your life. You have your own "no." There is no obstacle, no challenge, no drama, no desire except for things to remain as they are. Being passively content seems to completely please you - so how can I bring myself to say that I want change? It is perfectly human of me. I know that change would hurt you. Yet you are too special for me to willingly hurt you. I want you to want change too. I don't want more or less; I just want different.