Thursday, December 29, 2005
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Friday, December 9, 2005
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Friday, November 25, 2005
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Anyway, I'm up. I'm here. Hi. Allow me to give you insight to my nights:
First off they're the most productive hours of my day. I get everything done at night. I don't do things during the day for various reasons:
Reason 1. Everyone does things during the day.
Reason 2. You never have to worry about waiting.
Reason 3. You don't have to worry about people getting in your way.
Reason 4. You don't have to worry about people complaining that you're doing something wrong or that you're going to break something because what they don't see won't hurt them and why not let them think they broke or screwed something up, right?
I become obsessed with lists at night. Lists are so awesome. I love the organization of numerical structure of processes. Wow. Lists.
After the matters of productivity are done, I usually call it quits between midnight and 2 am. I set the alarm clock. I go in bed. I think about what if's and what not's. I just think and think and think. Even in attempts at rest, I still think. I can't stop processing thoughts!
In my dreams I'm haunted by massive maze-like homes or communities. Always the same things. Walk into a room, walk into darkness, a dimly lit area, a doorway into another room into a hall into another room into a room I am not allowed into and pass by. There's always a room I am forbidden to go into no matter what house it is. Always different houses, always different rooms, always the one that's OFF LIMITS. And my intentions are to try and figure out how I can see these "off limits" areas. I long to explore that which is forbidden to me even though I am told not to or feel like I shouldn't.
Common themes: turbulent waves crashing upon beaches threatening to drown or wash out to sea. Floods with similar threats. Always a messy room to hide in from the waters. The riot of people attempting to burn everyone alive because we are not on their side. The man in the desert who stands like a scarecrow in a field in his dark green riding jacket and cold vacant eyes who whispers things and I hear them and it is always his voice I hear even when he is not around in dreams. I can talk to him through my thoughts but our conversations are slightly jumbled. He speaks quickly and repetatively on top of his words, so it is hard to understand what he says. Snakes. At least once a week a snake. Ghosts. Never any evil ghosts, but ghosts of people who have suffered because of others. Suffering in silence their memories remain in dreams of a stranger.
All these things that keep me awake in the night in between the several glances at the alarm clock and then when i do fall asleep i wake up in a cold sweat trying to remember, Did I set the alarm? Check and mate. back to bed. some few minutes later Wait did I just dream that I checked that? better check again. yea it's cool.
Then that minute when your body is so tired but your brain is running a million miles a minute and your body shuts down into sleep mode before your brain and you can feel your body slowing down and shutting down and your heart beats suddenly out of fear that you are awake to feel yourself dying. Your breathing becomes slow almost to a point of stopping. Your heart does the same. But your brain comprehends awake time and is wondering why the body is going into down time. Granted this is a thought of someone who was aware of their body swelling up to the point of near asphyxiation a mere 3 years ago so thoughts of death plague my mind frequently. This is why we are not friends with Reglan, see?
And joy its so cold I shivver in my room no matter how many layers of clothes I have but I can feel my body aching and no matter what I do there's no point in trying to sleep yet. It just won't happen.
Granted, you see me, I am awake. I am existing. I am probably having somewhere between 3 and 6 hours of sleep depending if its a good night or not. My eyes carry a lot of luggage but I do not care because there are worse things in the world than your appearance. I am being consumed...
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Monday, November 14, 2005
Ok, here goes:
Friday I have Javi take me to get Jeepie from maintenance. They didn't finish him on time and I leave around 6 pm California time. I enjoy my drive, seeing a funny sign in the 909 that looks like the yellow signs in San Diego of the border crossing family but it says above it CAUTIONIZZLE and below something about the number one morning show bla bla bla 96.something. I laughed my ass off!!! Then I made a stop off in Beaumont at Baker's for a snack and a pee. There's this gnarly bloody vomit in the toilet and I take a pic and send it to some people. Then it's back to the road for a drive where I stop off in Blythe for gas. Lo and behold I am presented by the same bloody vomit in a toilet 2 hours away! Amazing! Some 2 hours later and now around 1 am Arizona time, I get to Phoenix.
After driving around lost for another 15 or 20 minutes I find my hotel. Here's why I hate NASCAR: when I go to check in I am informed my room is not available. I question why and the girl has a blank face and then get this genius idea of telling me she shows me as being booked for the next weekend. I get grumpy and inform her I called Thursday to confirm my stay and they said it was booked, etc. She tells me I can have someone else's room if they don't show up by 2 am. I think, "Hmm... sounds like they did this to ME so some white trash NASCAR fan from Blythe can get a room and they probably charged them double for it!" So I go to another hotel.
I finally did find a place that charged me nearly $300 to stay 2 nights!!! I only had a couple of bucks to my name for the weekend and half of that was going to be used on gas to get back home!!!
But all was good. I took a shower and braided my hair and flipped the channels for a few hours before going to bed around 4 am Arizona time. 5 hours of half-assed sleep later I decided to start my day and head out to the Superstition Mountains.
I then have a moment of anger: all my directions are from my old hotel. Fortunately I'm staying right off the 10 so I call the place and get directions and all is good. I stop off at the Superstition Mountain museum first and parooze. They had some cool old artifacts and stories. I asked if I could hike around the mountains and the guy says I would be better off going down to the Superstition Mountain national park 3 miles down. Joy! So I head out and lo and behold 1 mile before the park EUREKA! GOLDFIELD GHOST TOWN!
That's right, leave it to me to intentionally or unintentinally find a ghost town in a desert! I spent a few hours at Goldfield walking around. Went on a horse ride in the desert on Skipper, a nice big brown horse who liked stopping to pee, poop, and eat random desert foliage. I went on their mine tour which was kinda sad cos it wasn't the original Mammoth Goldmine, but a replica. Apparently the original Mammoth Goldmine is now hidden under a lake, but there's still gold in there. Talk about a scuba adventure!!! Then I went to their reptile exhibit and the guy let me hold the kingsnake there and we were talking snakes and I told him about The Herp and asked about how he cared for the rattlers and it was just nice.
Anyway, around 3 I decided to call it quits at Goldfield and go back onto my original destination of the Superstition Mountains. I park, and hike. Alone. I should have brought my flashlight but that didn't occur to me when I left. After I reached as high as I could get in my heeled cowboy boots (another bad idea), I enjoyed the scenery for half an hour and decided to trek back down. Ok, like I said, hiking in heeled cowboy boots is VERY bad. I can't even tell you how many times I was scared shitless I could fall off the side of the mountain if I would slip or something. But I made it down ok. Then a new problem came up: I had to get back to my car. I had to trek through maybe a mile of desert to get from the parking spot to the car, and there was no real trail on my path. I tried to recognise cactus to find my way but that wasn't very effective. I wound up lost in a vast flat land and I was losing daylight quickly. I had 15 minutes to find my car before the sun was gone and all the weird night creatures of the desert would come out. This means possibilities of mountain lions, bobcats, coyotes *and not those little coyotes we got out here, they got some BIG coyotes!* and maybe a rattler. Fortunately, I see some teenagers dickin around and think: people=trail. I run to them only to find no trail. I start walking around frantically until I find what looks like it may be a possibility. I question it because it takes me farther out into the desert but I go anyway. Gut instinct. Fortunately it did lead me back to my car and never have I ever been happier to see my car then I was at that moment.
My feet were shot from sweating and socks and friction so there's a bunch of blisters on me but that's fine. I stopped off at this bunk little gas station where the pay and pump was on the honor system. They also had the rudest employees there. But it's cool cos I got like $8 of free gas! After that I headed back to my hotel whilst singing along to Van Halen and drink Dr Pepper and chompin on Flaming Hot Cheetos (yea funny ha!) Took a shower and met up for a dinner at a overtly California-esque seafood restaurant. The food was good, but I prefer southwest food when I'm in the southwest... After dinner I caught some Monty Python and called it a night.
Sunday morning I wake, pack, and head out to Mystery Castle. I was sort of let down there. I was hoping for more and the ability to walk around all 18 rooms but we only really got to go into 10 of them. But I do admire the story of it. It's a story of sadness and totally sounds like something I would do: a guy found out he had TB and was terminally ill so he leaves his wife and daughter and builds this 18 room castle in the middle of Arizonza. Before dying of cancer he writes a letter to his daughter, who has hasn't seen since he left, nor contacted, and tells her she is going to inherit his castle. This comes to a suprise to the girl who thinks her father has abandoned her and left the family with nothing. In the purgatory room under a trap door he has hidden for her 2 $500 bills, photos of him, and some gold (there was some sort of deal with the government when he got the land about it being over a mining area and he patented the land or something so he owns all that and I'm not too sure that part of the information was kinda foggy.) Anyway, he never did die of TB, but cancer. His daughter now lives there. I met her. She's really old. Now she lets people do tours of the place. She used to do weddings in the altar room and the tradition was that anyone who got married there had to stand between the two snakes for good luck and protection (some sort of indian tradition) and then the bride would have to leave a shoe as a sign she was married there haha. I loved the strange stories and how absolutely ahead of his time the builder was to put things like skylights, roll away beds, hide away beds, organic architecture, etc. So it is amazing the work this guy did. I'm just sad I couldn't see more and that I could only look w/ the tour guides.
After Mystery Castle, I headed back home. I stopped off in Ehrinberg (sp?) and waited nearly 15 minutes just to get gas! Got this really disgusting burger at Wendy's. Decided not to eat at Wendy's ever again and headed back to California.
Did I enjoy Arizona? Sure. Would I go back? Definately. Do I hate NASCAR? You fuckin bet I do!
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Everyone is always put in a situation they don't like at one time or another. The question presenting itself is, at what point do you stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulder?
Do some people have the ability to point out the Simon's of the world?
I seem to always be placed in the role of carrying people's burdons. I've been told too many things by too many people. I bear more crosses than I know what to do with. I am not that strong. I cannot carry these on my own. I feel some people should carry their own crosses. But is it my place to tell them this? Or is this something they should just expect? I know in my heart what my decisions would be, but I question whether you would do the same if you were in my shoes? Perhaps what doesn't make me fall only makes me stronger? Sometimes you just can't avoid a bad situation.
Sunday, November 6, 2005
Wednesday, November 2, 2005
Monday, October 24, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Friday, October 14, 2005
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Friday, September 23, 2005
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Thursday, September 8, 2005
Wednesday, September 7, 2005
Sunday, August 21, 2005
HP2 typo- There's a comment about Percy and it says Perry.
HP2 timeline flaw- Say Voldemort is the most feared wizzard for the last 100 years when Voldy was 16 at the time the chamber was opened which was some 50 years ago, technically meaning he should be the most feared when he became evil... which was NOT 100 years...
HP3 punctuation error - Lupin speaks of the Whomping Willow being planted there when he started Hogwarts and there is never a closing set of quoation marks, implying the following paragraph is a continuation of his dialogue, when the next paragraph of dialogue is clearly from Harry.
I guess this is what happens when adults read kids books :( Whatever, JKR is still a genius in my mind :)
Sunday, August 7, 2005
Thursday, August 4, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
::Photo no longer on server::
Friday, July 22, 2005
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Monday, June 20, 2005
All week I've been spitting out chunks of the white things that formed. Friday I had a piece that didn't want to come out so it made me barf due to gag reflexes. Anyway, I had to go to the doctors after work and they removed the piece. I was fine after.
Today!!! Gah!!! I went to go pee and I was gonna spit before I went and I have totally blood red spit!!! I look at my throat and I have this HUGE bloody spot. I'm not sure what that's all about but it's f'n RAD!!! Made for some super cool pictures!! I soo want to share to gross you guys all out because it's totally gorey cool!
I'm not sure how I feel on the issue of swallowing my blood. I taste kinda like porter house... so in that case, I guess if were a cannibal, I'd eat me cos I'd make a good steak ahahha!!!
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Thursday, June 9, 2005
Wednesday, June 8, 2005
From earlier today. Strangely I'm starting to feel worse now than I did immediately after surgery. I think it's just cos the lack of eating is catching up with me. I had a dream about tacos!
Tuesday, June 7, 2005
The morning after. Lots of color changes. Smaller, too...
Last night was strange. I wasn't aware of how fast this procedure makes my body lose liquids. I just recall 3 occasions at night where my mouth became dry and my bubbly salavia dried on my tonsils and I woke up with these horrible coughing spells like I was choking due to gag relfexes. But a simple swish of water to moisten things up, and a spit, fixed that. I had a little bit of tonsilage come out last night. I can't really sleep because when I can sleep my mouth dries up, or when I do sleep my snoring wakes me up so it's loose-loose there. I feel super awake, which strikes me as odd, but oh well. I can't decide if I'm hungry or not either. My body is confused. I think it says hungry but really means thirsty.
AND OH MY GOD!!! The sterroids I'm on are making my crotch itch again!!! DAmmit!!! They gave me some in the hospital that made me get gnarly itching for like 30 seconds and then it stopped. This stuff just did the same damn thing but it took longer to kick in! Wild!
Monday, June 6, 2005
This was taken 10 hours after surgery like after Kraftwerk. Notice theres more food stuff from WAY deep down oozing out? Also some of those white spots are starting to dye and turn black like the other side with the dead tissue. All stuff I've been hacking up at random... fun! So I can move around and basically function sans eating solid foods and speak 100 ut I was able to get a ride to Kraftwerk. It was great. I was coming down from the morphine I was given a few hours earlier and hopped up on 2 previous doses of vicodine plus the dose I took there. Ergo, I crashed 3/4 through the set. At one point I was leaning up against my people and fell, to which my health status was questioned. I mumbled something something about being ok. I mean, I could still hear them so I wanted to be there! After that I got really pissed because my ride wanted dinner and said they'd go where they have soup so I could eat too. So they goes to Tommy's, which I had got mad at Javier for going to last week and not informing me of since I haven't had it in MONTHS! I was about to cry. Literally. I wanted it soooo badly. I just saw their dripping chili and cheese oozing out of their burger and fries. Yea I'm sad.
On the plus side, my tonsils have more tissue dying and falling off. I was coughing most of it up at Kraftwerk into one of my people's ex-beer. I took another picture and I'm just shocked as to how much food is coming out of my dead tonsils still. Even more shocked as to how deep that shit went. Seriously those radiowaves just zapped all that stuff out. Like when prisoners get the electric chair and their eyes bust out and they foam at the mouth and shit, thats what happened to my food particles. And I mean there are a LOT of them in there. The one side that's all white is food trying to come out of my tonsils but it can't because theres no exits there and they need to wait to go out of one of the small holes they went in from.
I'm excited about like 2 weeks from now when I don't have bad breath anymore from shit dying in my throat. I'm so happy and in so much pain you guys are so clueless! This is the best thing to happen to date!
Today was the day. I had a Radiofrequency Tonsillectomy. What happens is they put these
metal rods in my throat and let out radio waves at different levels depending on the size of my tonsils. I was put under completely and apparently had a tube in my throat, causing my gassiness and coughing now I'm guessing? Anyway, everything went over very well and I was totally coherent afterwards. Surgery was at 11 and I was let out 1 or 2, I forgot. Anyway, the tonsils are not removed. They shrink them. So right now they look worse than yesterday, but only because they've been zapped for about an hour or so in different locations. The large darker spots on my throat are where the rods were. There was even one they did at the base side of my tongue but you can't see that one. Anyway, I feel fine, I snore really loud but that will go away. I can do stuff but I can't drive, so it's all good. I've been helping out here and there with a few little work things that are being emailed back and forth. So yay. I'm happy. Finally done I'll post pics here and there as to the progress of the tonsils.
Sunday, June 5, 2005
Thursday, June 2, 2005
Monday my tonsils get destroyed. Hooray! Die bastards die die! The procedure is simple: they're gonna stick metal rods into my tonsils and let out electric waves that will singe my tonsils. Sounds high tech huh? It is. I was dubbed "a perfect candidate" for the procedure. Great. Now I get vicodin. I'm not sharing either. I'll actually need it as it will be painful. Hooray pain! PS I liked watching them steal blood from me. POKE!
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Monday, May 16, 2005
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Saturday, May 7, 2005
Friday, May 6, 2005
Wednesday, May 4, 2005
Monday, May 2, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Monday, April 18, 2005
Saturday, April 9, 2005
Wednesday, April 6, 2005
Saturday, April 2, 2005
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Check out my stylish pops circa 1986 in his NoHo Postal Portrait! Yup thats my dad when I was 4 years old! What's worse is one of his coworkers looks the same now as she did in this picture. And I recognize his a-hole boss and the lady who co-owned the pet store I worked at in high school.
Monday, March 7, 2005
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Friday, February 25, 2005
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Thursday, February 17, 2005
In the final conclusion in the Ghosts of New Mexico saga, I find that it does not end. The Bottger Mansion didn't fail to fulfil my ideals of dejavu. The only difference was that there appeared to be some color changes. Maybe things were a certain color a certain time ago? Who knows. Before we got anywhere, we took pictures at the airport. They were taken moments apart and in the first picture you see Lori loving the day...er... night... in Albuquerque. Then, we are together saluting our indian spirit friend above us and there appear a few orbs. For the skeptics, the two pictures are at the same eye level, angle, and the orbs don't appear in the first picture. As you can see in the first picture, there are no light souces that would allow for this to happen? On our first night, the walk up to our room was rather quiet. The staircase had a cold feel to it, like a cold stale spot. I can't quite describe what it felt like but I'll try: Imagine you are in a room that is warm and toasty, then you continue walking and suddenly hit a certain area that feels like you have walked into a refridgerator, but without the blowing air, just stagnant air like the warm air around you, then as you continue walking it is warm again. I guess its like walking through a person or a presence of some sort? None the less I felt bad for not knowing they were there and walking through them. A little later after we got into our room, we heard pacing up and down the stairs. There was only 2 other people at the Bottger that night, someone next door to us and the owners. After the stairs became bothersome to the point we could no longer sleep we decided to look into who was making this noise. Of course we should have known better as there was no one around. It was most likely Charles as he has been rumored to pace up and down the stairs... But we got to sleep eventually after walking around for a while looking for Charles and getting snacks from the kitchen.... The next day the owners delighted us to Apple Puffs and fruit for breakfast and we went around shopping and dining. We also ventured to the rattlesnake museum, the aquarium and botanical gardens where we got into all sorts of mischief! I went to mass at San Felipe de Neri while Lori stayed at the Bottger. San Felipe was awesome! It was this old Catholic church with a sorta gothic revival look on the inside but a pueblo meets gothic look on the outside. Old Town Albuquerque is a highly spiritual town whether you're Catholic or believe in your individual tribe's beliefs. At church I was noticed as a visitor along with a few other visitors and the Father asked where we were all from and then asked us if we had birthdays coming up. So, in turn, I had a whole church singing happy birthday to me and another girl who had an up coming birthday as well. Very cute. I admired how closely knit their parish was... After mass, Lori and I went to the High Noon Saloon and Restaurant, which is haunted. It used to be a saloon slash brothel, so there's bound to be ghosts lurking around that place! Then at 8:30 we were supposed to meet up in the plaza by the cannons for the ghost tour. Never happened... I was greatly disappointed because I wanted to do that so badly! Oh well... next time. We called it a night, and frankly, I was beat. I went to sleep only to await going home the next day. Sunday we checked out and got our taxi arranged to pick us up at 4:30 so we did some last minute shopping and I bought a new rosary made from rose beads in a salmony pink. We ate at the Church Street Cafe for lunch, which is also haunted. That was built like in 1706 or something and was Casa de Ruiz. It is the oldest residential building in Albuquerque but not much is known about it's history other than the last Ruiz tied into that residence died in 1991, not sure if she still lived there or not? From what I understand the ghosts of that restaurant heckle the chefs by calling out orders and people get wrong meals. Part of me thinks that happened to Lori as she orderd this pork dish and was given a veggie burrito!!! After that we decided to go down to this Mexican joint and have some drinks. Due to the high spirtual beliefs out there, you are not allowed to order any alcoholic beverages in any of the restaurants on a Sunday without purchasing an appetizer. So we had to make room for some taquitos to go with my Bloody Mary and Lori's Raspberry Margarita. Anyway moral of the story, New Mexico was beyond cool.
Wednesday, February 9, 2005
Wednesday, February 2, 2005
"... When I get down there, I notice its blocked off by... a chainlink fence and lots of aircraft. Behind I can see the people down there having fun in the water."
"I go back to the house and theres a woman. She's very weird and maybe she doesn't want anyone in her house for anything past the den/dining room/kitchen. There's something about her room and the girl's room and the blue hall that she doesn't want me to find out about. Around the same time Reggie and Johnny show up [not sure who these people are just a black man Reggie, and a white guy Johnny. Never met them nor do I know anyone who looked like them with those names, just two random names attached to faces.] I am supposed to stay with them and stay in the den and watch TV. We're sitting there and ... there is a thing on the news about a kid who dies. [A naked man showed up at the screen door] Reggie recognizes the name. We go out to a tent in the front to see if we can find out who the man is. We find a recipt from the man in the books... we find a whole list of names and look ..."
"...what happesn to the people. We find out every guest has died. We go back to the house and sit in the room. I go into the back of the house and find the girl's room and the blue hall. THere's something eerie about the girls room. It has a pale glow to it. It's not a bad presence but it is empty. I get lost in the blue hall later twice and its very scary there. It has an evil feel to it. I try to get... I see the woman's room. She sees me and gets mad and tells me to get out and I go out to Reggie and Johnnie again. When we're sitting down, the naked man comes to the door. He's trying to come in but Reggie and Johnny won't let him. They tell me to hide and I run back to the girl's room."
"I get lost in the blue hall again and there's a gust of wind from there. I run out of it and come across the girl's room. THe curtains are off and th e beds are floating upside down from the ceiling. I see the woman ... behind me and she looks like she's dead an dshe's after me. I run out to Reggie and Johnnie but only find the room empty with two recipts for their stay there. I grab them and run out to the beach. I try to get out to the waters, but the kids in the rocket shooters are flying away. THey won't stay and know they must leave. I try to get ..."
"... out to the water and follow the fence to a pont form the stagnant water. I go into the waters and head out to ... On my way there Jamie [name attached to a face again. Don't know who she is.] shows up. I recognise her from a pictures inside the house. She was one of the girls. She gets mad that I let her die but I know nothing about her. I think she was raped and killed in her house by a guest her mother let stay there and..."
"...she has been killing any guest who stays there since. She grows and makes the tides grow larger. I run out and take a car from in front of the house and leave. I'm not sure if this means I'm safe... but I'm not there anymore. I know the secret of the house. Reggie and Johnnie are dead. The woman was not good."
— Dream September 18/19 2002 night/morning?
Do I sound crazy? Possibly. None the less now you have some insight into the strange and unusually cryptic things that haunt my subconscious in the wee hours of the night. Do you wonder why I am so eager to sleep instead of spend my horrific hours being productive? I should hope not...
None the less I have a feeling I am being drawn to a place. The pictures in the previous post are photos of rooms available in the Bottger Mansion. The sketches on the sides of those photos were of specific rooms I could remember details to in the dream just mentioned. I will not be staying in eithe room. I don't plan to play with the ghosts. I just need closure... proof that I am wrong and that this is nothing more than a strange coincidence.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Thursday, January 20, 2005
The rooms in the drawings were done September 18/19 pm/am? 2002. They were based on something I saw in a very weird dream. Some two years later I come across a bed and breakfast in New Mexico where I will be staying that resembles two of the rooms in the dream. Coincidence? I think not... We'll see what Old Town has to offer and whether we can get some closure for some disturbed souls...
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Monday, January 10, 2005
Gen-X Pseudo Sophisticates
I was filling out one of those ever so popular online survey things. You know the ones—what's your name, favorite color, favorite tv show, etc. Usually they get passed around by all your friends and give you insight into trivial facts you probably already knew about them. Some people use those surveys to make themselves sound more interesting by adding hints of sarcasm or something. But there is an alarming trend in these little surveys that hints to a higher intelligence level in the people who fill them out.
Gen-X is growing up. They are growing weary of the apathetic pizza eating, tv watching, reputation they've been given. They've traded in their "burger, fries, and a drink" in exchange for expensive restaurants, sushi, and merlots. And don't even think about tv anymore because it is far too much of an idiot device for them to pay homage to for an hour or more a day. Instead they prefer books and foreign films.
Now, I know how annoying that whole stupid teenager shtick was, but this pseudo intellectual thing is even more annoying. Half the people that are out there are reading things they don't even comprehend and then when you try to have a discussion with them about things of the sorts, they sound like broken records reitterating the facts of sentences they were able to understand. Or they talk about how great the latest French film was when really its just a ripoff of a film that was made in America a year ago. (Of course, if they're as smart as they pretend to be they'll call you on the fact there are only 7 story plotlines that can ever occur.)
What's even more pathetic is Gen-X is not about original thought. They don't want to do things to broaden their horizons. Instead they do things to be cool. If someone decides it's no longer cool to be stupid, then suddenly they try to be smart. And when you take a halfwit and try to turn them into a MENSA member, it doesn't usually play off very well. Words are frequently misused and Michael Moore's statistics are often mistaken for facts. Very frightening...
So maybe this will be just a passing phase in their constantly flip-flopping lifestyles. Hopefully they'll grow old of this and feel more comfortable retreating to their apathetic roots. Sad as it may sound, some people are better off idiots.
Friday, January 7, 2005
INDIVIDUALISM IN A LIBERAL SOCIETY
California as we know it is a very liberal state. Just about anything goes. Everyone wants to be their own person or a star of some sort and it's almost unwritten state mandate that you are a member of SAG or have done something in the entertainment industry. None the less, an aspiring artist is just as much of a media whore as an aspiring actor, singer, stripper, you name it. So it is only necessary to make it to the top you study at the best institutions you can find. For me, the entire duration of my life up until 3 or 4 years ago was at the California Institute of the Arts.
I was fortunate enough to get in. Then again, I wonder how many other people they let in. After my first year there, I think I realized that it's not so much whether your art is good or not, it's how many drugs you do, how rich your parents are, how many people you know, how many gallery openings you go to and how wasted you get there. So for me, the answers were discovered after the first year: bad, none, poor, not enough, rarely and rarely.
I realized this place was way too liberal for my traditional yet quarky ways. Where then do I fit in? I'm too eccentric for standard settings, but not psychotic enough for CalArts. And perhaps that's where my problem was. Not so much in my art, but in who I was as a person.
In that liberal society where individualism and free thinking is spoken so strongly of, I felt as if I were being ostracised for doing exactly that. It was like CalArts rounded up all the freaks of California, the US, and the rest of the world, and housed them under the pretense they were getting an education in the arts. Yet with the exception of a small handful, half the teachers were as much of nut jobs as the students. Ironically enough, as I evolved as a person, I started to stray away from "their" norm, that being, I started to go corpororate, I became an individual: a responsible person amongst carefree twenty- and thirty-somethings who should have been more responsible than I was, considering their ages.
I believe there is a direct correlation between me working to finance my tuition and being told I don't spend enough time on my studies because I work too much. That showed responsibility. Apparently you can't be responsible at CalArts. You need to be the complete opposite and rely on your rich parents to send you money for tuition, supplies, food, and steal things from people to get whatever else you want because no one will punish you. And this theory doesn't only apply to the students. It applies to some of the staff members as well. After all, what responsible financial aid department would lose your loan application, then send you last year's application and then tell you they sent the wrong form and send you the correct form only to have it sit on some shelf for a week after you turned it in? Then they expect you to come up with $11,000 over a two week notice, because we all are millionaires, after all.
There is a lot of other odd coincidences that have occured since my transformation that I won't even delve into. It is sickening that unless you are an idividual in their liberal society, and by that, be a clone of your peers, you will not get far in life.
With that, I say, after 5 years on and off, full time, part time, 3 years and 1 semester of work completed, I am going to march down to that school, completely fed up, and file for dismissal. No one will care other than the fact they just lost a customer.
But enough of that crap: here's some highlights of 2004: nothing.
NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS:
1. Get SCUBA certified.
2. Take down pretty girls that know they're pretty and act like bitches.
3. Travel ! Travel ! Travel! (Last year was AWESOME and I need to see more of what's out in the world!)
4. Screw CalArts and go to another school.