on love

for consideration:


not realistic, but a nice thought. but just that-- nice. its cuteness sort of destroys the idea that love exists. what really destroys it, however, is the idea that love can only exist in a place with heavy walls. in a guarded and isolated place.



and now consider this:


this is my idea of love personified-- honest, blurry, and ready to conquer with a complete disregard for pockets turned inside out. and if love doesn't look like this, then i'm not sure i want much to do with it anyway.

superconnected

some music makes me feel all dizzylikerunaroundfaststompingmyfeetwav
ingmyfistbeatingmyheadclappinghandsandthunder
andmillionsofmilesofsou
ndandbuil
d&rel
ease

here i go again

now in the person-that-must-use-vacation-days-to-travel category and after hearing my mom hint at seeing me one last time before i start a full-time job, i've decided to go home next week. i feel a little guilty or like it's excessive to make the trip, but i think it's because i'm used to only going for christmas and for summer. and although i'm embarrassed to admit it, in college i sort of prided myself on the fact that i only went home once during the year
"look at me. how strong i am! how independent and self-sufficient! how i pity you-- you there. you weak ones that go home monthly to indulge in home-cooked meals and laundry and family. what? what's that? some of you go home weekly?! oh my. oh my my. how i cringe at your inability to cope. how desperate you seem to me and my impervious fortitude!"

so now i swallow my pride and go home for the second time in four months. disgusting.

unchanging changed

it's strange to me the way places change. places that i see everyday. when i wake up every morning to the familiarity of my my bedroom, the bathroom, the view out on to school street, and yet sometimes they appear different. this appearance of change has happened all my life. i remember driving down roe avenue, in the backseat, trying to describe it to my parents one day. i was probably in middle school. they didn't understand me, and i didn't understand why they didn't understand what i was talking about. then again, i don't actually understand what the change is. it could be equated to the light change in a room-- nothing about the room as "the room" has changed but some external force acts on it, making it appear different. the metaphor doesn't really work though because light quality doesn't bring on the change. more appropriate is maybe likening it to a memory. and the more i think about it, maybe that's what it is. when i return to a place i can remember the way i saw, felt, and interpreted the place when i saw it a previous time. this leads to familiar places, like my neighborhood, sometimes feeling unfamiliar, which can be unsettling at times.
it's a strange concept-- to think of places changed when they are still the same solid building or car-lined street. or maybe it's limiting to describe "places" this way. maybe they aren't changed but just revealing different aspects at different times. is it possible that places are more than just a static entity-- that they are more complicated? or is it all tied to my perception of the place based on the projection of my feelings at the time? i would say it's more likely the latter, however, i don't experience this thing with people. maybe because there are so many variables with another person. the input from them and the very fact that they actually are changing and all the time. maybe it's impossible to gauge the change in something if it's not static.

* * *

there is a house on melrose that sticks out. it's street-facing facade is almost completely glass. obviously this makes the inside very visible to the outside. when you look in, however, all you see is white. huge white walls, cathedral ceilings all in white, white carpeted stairs, and white banisters. at first i thought it was vacant. then i noticed a large metal art-deco chandelier hanging from the ceiling. this didn't seem like evidence, though. finally, today, as i rode by i noticed two pairs of crocs by the entryway. not only were they not white but they weren't even neatly arranged. one could might even describe them as haphazardly thrown off! who are these people that live in a magazine-sterile home and then toss their comfy rubber unfashionable shoes willy-nilly on the landing for all the neighbors to see?

i have a job.

it's what's not posted that counts.

a list of things

1. broken social scene-- broken social scene.

2. today i saw a construction cone on top of a street lamp, and i believe i prefer people who find this funny/thought-provoking/poignant. maybe poignant is a stretch.

3. "But birds that are canorous and whose notes we most commend, are of little
throats, and short necks." (-- Sir Thomas Browne, Pseudodxia Epidemica)

4. genuine compliments from strangers can be creepy but also refreshing.

5. fig newtons, milk, chick peas, coffee.

the puns are killing me

my final reasoning as to why the ALA has to hire me?
they need my interminable wit and pun-making ability, which was proven last night and even with reference to the library!

reference! get it?
see, i can't be stopped!

[if you're already feeling ill, i advise you read no further.]

roommate: so you're liking that book?
me: yes. you know that conversation we had about how some books you have to read at the right time, like catcher in the rye? and how i seemed to have missed the timing on those? well, i think this is my book. i think this is the perfect time to read this book.
roommate: really? that's great. i'd like to read it when i get some time.
me: well, it is a library book.
roommate: oh... well, maybe you can loan it to me.
--sarcastic laughter--
me:nice pun.
roommate: thank you.
me: seriously though, you should check it out.
--my sarcastic laughter, followed by roommate's real laughter--
roommate: so many double meanings!

in hindsight, after spending any time at all recreating that conversation, the ALA should probably hire me as an act of charity. i really need to start a new chapter in my life.
--sarcastic laughter--

D).

D). The Telling the World of Suffering as Means of Flushing or at Least Diluting of Pain Aspect


is this why i'm back in touch with so many people?

shared bathroom behavior

two nights ago, i spent the night at my brother's house. thanks to a recent addition, their old bedroom now serves as a guest bedroom. although my nieces bed and accompanying plastic pee protector were mighty comfy, the new bed is a big improvement.

my brother is a big guy-- just over six foot and very solid with a sizable stomach. their old bathroom is horribly designed, with the shower, sink, and toilet all forming an awkward line. this means that only if a person is in the shower or seated on the toilet can anything bigger than a cat also share the space. my brother-- much larger than a cat, and while his wife is an average-sized female, that also happens to put her in the "larger than cat" category. the bathroom door swings shut, missing both the toilet seat and sink by millimeters. it seems completely unnecessary that a bathroom this size should require a lock. the mere presence of someone occupying the space is enough to keep out anyone else. standing at the sink, one literally blocks the door. while on the toilet, one could simply block the door with their foot or hand or head, as is the case with the shower.

despite this, there are great demands for privacy, which must be the reason why some idiot requested a lock be put on this door. it wasn't until i found myself in desperate need, fumbling with the door at 1 am, when i discovered there was indeed a lock on the door. said lock was also in the locked position, following that i was locked out. i relieved myself in the bathroom down the hall and went back to bed. it was with great embarrassment, however, that i admitted seven hours later to my sister-in-law that in some great display of wit, locked myself out of the bathroom. she ran to the tool box, grabbed a thingy and unclicked the push-lock.
"no worries, jay used to do this all the time."
jay, referring to my four year old nephew, who still needs help in the bathroom. as apparently, do i.

universe, you've done it again

this week was the final straw. i felt that i'd received enough "wrongs" to enter the pathetic, self-pitying stage. it is monday night, and i make a self-righteous decree that 2008 cannot possibly get any worse between heaving sobs and snotty gurgles.

now it's four days, a kleenex box, several beers, and a lot of niece/nephew hugs later. although recent events have hurt and sucked what little hope i thought i had left, what is best/worst is that i see their benefit. i mean really. who the hell did i think i was expecting i could seamlessly manage all the unexpected and terrifying thrills of graduating, moving, living, meeting, quitting, searching, applying, rejecting, committing, and accepting?

it's been months of many realizations (beyond figuring out i can rationalize my way out of a shoebox). most importantly, however, i see how blessed i am to have the friends and family that i do. it might be cliché, but it's the truth.
my poor roommate, who never knows what to expect when she walks through the door. some days i'm working busily away on my computer, donning a stylin' robe, and other days i'm who knows where. then there are the days when despite my best efforts to completely cover my sneeze, i still end up snotting on her. after spending several minutes disinfecting herself, she not only emerges from the bathroom smiling but doesn't even move to another table.
good old dad who has no idea what he's about to hear when he prompts me to, "come on, just tell me what's wrong." then endures a stream of nonsense and estrogen that he's probably still mopping off the kitchen floor in kansas.
plus all the other friends in and out of state who commiserate, ponder, and reply.

this might not be what i expected, but another thing i've realized is my expectations usually work against me. so i'm thankful for this-- whatever it is and whatever it might become-- and i do the best i can.

5:45 p.m.

today we opened the windows in our apartment.

adventure club

last week my friend told me this was going to be the week.

he was right. three important people in my life have had amazing successes this week. one appeared unexpectedly in the sun times newspaper, one got a job offer with a small law firm for this summer and then a job offer for next summer as well, and one is off to LA in two weeks to make $750/day as a film assistant.

all this good luck got me thinking about, well, luck. after turning it over, i've concluded that their isn't a ton of luck about it. all three of these guys are motivated, intelligent, and confident who know they deserve their success. while there's certainly something to be said for being in the right time at the right place, i think that's as far as luck goes. after that, one has to take a chance. there's also a certain amount of not paying the dues. i mean really... who do you owe? it's risky, but maybe passing up the shit job with the knowledge that something better is out there that you can do is, isn't so stupid.

the beginning of the week i found out i was one of three finalists for a publishing assistant job that i would love to come through. i hope next week is also "the week." my week to join the adventure club.