I love re-discovering things.
Small things, big things. Memory-things. The Stumble Button.
Today I discovered a friend I never knew I had. I mean, I'm friends with her and I know about her life and I enjoy her company, but I don't see her enough to call her a friend. As senior year progresses, I find such friends... people with whom I may not have spent as much time as I could have, but have always been there, off to the sidelines, just hanging around. Sometimes it's people in different friend circles, different grades, or people that I used to be friends with but hardly get to see now.
So we talked. We're very similar, and I didn't even know how much until today. I like her. She's funny, and genuine. I hope to spend more time with her, especially when I get a little more free time.
**
Tomorrow: Iowa City with my dad. It won't be that bad, I hope anyway, but it certainly won't be as much fun as it would if I were going up on my own... or with friends. Perhaps an unofficial college visit in the spring :). Maybe I can take it as an opportunity to just "bond" and "communicate" with him. We'll see how it goes.
**
By the wizzle, the title is from the song "Your Hands Are Cold" composed by Jean-Yves Thibaudet for the movie Pride and Prejudice (the newer one with Kierra Knightly). Mmm... chick flicks.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
What does the verb "harking" entail?
And how do you get to be a "Herald" angel? Is it a position you apply for? I guess heaven is more bureaucratic than we thought.
In other news, I think I may have to go tanning this winter.
...
In case you've forgotten, I'm Indian. I don't know if tanning would really work on me. Actually it was suggested to me as a way to combat what I think may be SAD: Seasonally Affected Disorder. I get very depressed in the winter-time and sometimes for no reason other than the fact that it's disgusting weather outside and everything is cold and grey. That's right. Grey. Fuck you, American spelling. Maybe I'll just some more lamps and stick them up in my room. Or (god, I'm fucking brill) I'll put up CHRISTMAS LIGHTS. What says "I love Jesus" more than a string of multicoloured little neon bulbs in my very own manger?
Well, I can think of only one thing... the Jesus Action Figure (as mentioned by Yes Maybe).
Christmas wish list:
-Socks
-a gift card to Barnes and Noble and/or Best Buy OR assorted selection of books (poetry by Pablo Neruda, a few classics) and music (newer CDs that I don't have the money to purchase) and also movies (because I love movies).
-A gift card to Target or, as lame as it sounds, the JC Mall in general
-Socks and pajamas
-A new cell phone (I'm really counting on my parents for this because I have numerous woes about my cellular telephonic device)
-Sweaters, and socks
-Acceptance to college
-a birthday party
-I haven't had ice cream cake in a while.
As a side note: watching my mother, now a fifty-something, nodding her head in time to a good dance routine on Dancing With the Stars is really quite something. Jane Seymour is a total MILF (and after Wedding Crashers, perhaps even more so).
In other news, I think I may have to go tanning this winter.
...
In case you've forgotten, I'm Indian. I don't know if tanning would really work on me. Actually it was suggested to me as a way to combat what I think may be SAD: Seasonally Affected Disorder. I get very depressed in the winter-time and sometimes for no reason other than the fact that it's disgusting weather outside and everything is cold and grey. That's right. Grey. Fuck you, American spelling. Maybe I'll just some more lamps and stick them up in my room. Or (god, I'm fucking brill) I'll put up CHRISTMAS LIGHTS. What says "I love Jesus" more than a string of multicoloured little neon bulbs in my very own manger?
Well, I can think of only one thing... the Jesus Action Figure (as mentioned by Yes Maybe).
Christmas wish list:
-Socks
-a gift card to Barnes and Noble and/or Best Buy OR assorted selection of books (poetry by Pablo Neruda, a few classics) and music (newer CDs that I don't have the money to purchase) and also movies (because I love movies).
-A gift card to Target or, as lame as it sounds, the JC Mall in general
-Socks and pajamas
-A new cell phone (I'm really counting on my parents for this because I have numerous woes about my cellular telephonic device)
-Sweaters, and socks
-Acceptance to college
-a birthday party
-I haven't had ice cream cake in a while.
As a side note: watching my mother, now a fifty-something, nodding her head in time to a good dance routine on Dancing With the Stars is really quite something. Jane Seymour is a total MILF (and after Wedding Crashers, perhaps even more so).
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Sapphire and Faded Jeans
Yes Maybe suggested that I post more. It is a Saturday night and I am sitting alone with not much on my head and a weariness in my bones. Can you think of a better time to blog? I can. But I will proceed nonetheless.
Today I started my first day at Gap. It was exciting, mostly just very hectic and all a bit disoriented. I have noticed that when I'm nervous I speak softer. How odd. My feet hurt quite a bit, but hopefully that will go away. Mostly I just like being surrounded by wonderful clothes that I cannot afford. The people are nice, and I say that because I don't really know them enough to use better adjectives. So it goes.
What is it about clothes that give women such a sense of security? I know I succumb to it like most other women--I like looking good. When I look good, I feel good; the strange thing is that I have to be feeling good before I can look good. But is it really all superficial? Is it all in the mind? Probably. Cavewomen wore animal skins and never combed their hair but does that mean they didn't have a sense of fashion? Is it all contrived now by people who need something to do, who need to create a new market to publicize?
I suppose men have this, too: the feeling of uniqueness defined in a single glance by a passerby. Our appearance is our first impression, isn't it? No matter how much people deny that they care about what other people think, I don't really believe it. I mean, I don't care about the people who think I'm lame because I don't make ___X____ stupid decisions. But I do care about what my boss thinks of me, what the Senators I will approach think of me, what the people I work with on a regular basis think of me. So who are we trying to impress when we dress up? I think it's an intrinsic thing, that we dress mainly for ourselves. It is the easiest way to placate our nagging self-consciousness; by creating a sense of style that is in harmony with our image of ourselves, the image we want to project, and the "uniqueness" factor compared to others.
But that begs the questioning of the people who have 6437 pairs of Uggs, or buy the same clothes from the same stores. What image do they project? How can they feel secure/unique when the people they surround themselves with are replicas of themselves?
My sense of self-worth shouldn't be defined externally, and I am well aware of it. But, the insecure teenage girl inside of me (who, I am slowly discovering, will never leave me as I age) still feels the need to fit in/stick out in order to define myself. I have always considered myself a confident person, but I get a little boost, a little pick-me-up, when I know I look "good."
I put make-up on everyday, and always think about how I "don't really need it" but then battle over how ugly I think I would look without it. (Do not contest it: you haven't seen me when I wake up early in the morning.) I look in the mirror and all I can point out are my imperfections. At the same time, I live my life with the comfort that I may not be the most anything: beautiful, thin, intelligent, whatever, but I like to think that I am beautiful, that I am no less gorgeous than people I see everyday.
girl, put your records on
tell me your favorite song
you go ahead--let your hair down
sapphire and faded jeans
i hope you get your dreams
just go ahead--let your hair down
you're gonna find yourself somewhere--
somehow
Today I started my first day at Gap. It was exciting, mostly just very hectic and all a bit disoriented. I have noticed that when I'm nervous I speak softer. How odd. My feet hurt quite a bit, but hopefully that will go away. Mostly I just like being surrounded by wonderful clothes that I cannot afford. The people are nice, and I say that because I don't really know them enough to use better adjectives. So it goes.
What is it about clothes that give women such a sense of security? I know I succumb to it like most other women--I like looking good. When I look good, I feel good; the strange thing is that I have to be feeling good before I can look good. But is it really all superficial? Is it all in the mind? Probably. Cavewomen wore animal skins and never combed their hair but does that mean they didn't have a sense of fashion? Is it all contrived now by people who need something to do, who need to create a new market to publicize?
I suppose men have this, too: the feeling of uniqueness defined in a single glance by a passerby. Our appearance is our first impression, isn't it? No matter how much people deny that they care about what other people think, I don't really believe it. I mean, I don't care about the people who think I'm lame because I don't make ___X____ stupid decisions. But I do care about what my boss thinks of me, what the Senators I will approach think of me, what the people I work with on a regular basis think of me. So who are we trying to impress when we dress up? I think it's an intrinsic thing, that we dress mainly for ourselves. It is the easiest way to placate our nagging self-consciousness; by creating a sense of style that is in harmony with our image of ourselves, the image we want to project, and the "uniqueness" factor compared to others.
But that begs the questioning of the people who have 6437 pairs of Uggs, or buy the same clothes from the same stores. What image do they project? How can they feel secure/unique when the people they surround themselves with are replicas of themselves?
My sense of self-worth shouldn't be defined externally, and I am well aware of it. But, the insecure teenage girl inside of me (who, I am slowly discovering, will never leave me as I age) still feels the need to fit in/stick out in order to define myself. I have always considered myself a confident person, but I get a little boost, a little pick-me-up, when I know I look "good."
I put make-up on everyday, and always think about how I "don't really need it" but then battle over how ugly I think I would look without it. (Do not contest it: you haven't seen me when I wake up early in the morning.) I look in the mirror and all I can point out are my imperfections. At the same time, I live my life with the comfort that I may not be the most anything: beautiful, thin, intelligent, whatever, but I like to think that I am beautiful, that I am no less gorgeous than people I see everyday.
girl, put your records on
tell me your favorite song
you go ahead--let your hair down
sapphire and faded jeans
i hope you get your dreams
just go ahead--let your hair down
you're gonna find yourself somewhere--
somehow
Sunday, November 11, 2007
The Games We Play
He said to me: "I feel like my life is being trivialized into the minor details of a cocktail party."
After three years, I would like to think I'm not skirting around anything. I cannot break out of my habits of ignoring, hoping, and being disappointed. They have lessened, but perhaps I need even more time.
Last night at the temple, I saw a new boy. A boy I'd never seen before. I played the coquettish girl, a mixture of temerity and aloofness. He did the same thing, except according to the Guy rules. We didn't exchange any words, only a smile that we both understood to be an inside joke about the bustling ways of Indians. I always think of something clever to say long after the fact, but perhaps this moment was perfect in its silence with noise all around it.
***
Yesterday I met a girl who speaks 6 languages fluently (including Mandarin Chinese--which she practiced on her trip to China). She is undoubtedly intelligent. She's starting college in January. She has been all over the world (even more than me!), and also been up and down the East Coast and Southern California. Her brother is a professor at Harvard Law at the age of 28. I cannot stop thinking about how I compare to her. It is not a pretty thought. This happens far more often than I would like.
***
I pretended to laugh at the fact that this girl (who is older than I am, and in college, and arguably making the dumbest decisions she can) was "considering" becoming a Democrat. We both knew she wasn't. She watches The O'Reilly Factor and takes it seriously. I lost so much respect for her; I didn't even think Republicans watch that show. I say I don't have anything against Republicans, but it's not true. I do, I have quite a bit against them, that's why I am a Democrat. (Not that it matters--goddammit--because I couldn't even vote in the next election if I wanted it, because I would neither be 18 nor would I be a citizen.) I don't even have anything against the idea of Republicanism, I have quite a bit against people who cling to conservative values as though their lives depended on it and insist on shoving it in liberals' faces. I am not a tree-hugger, I've never had an abortion, and I don't want the US to become communist. I get very angry and closed-minded Republicans who think I, or any other "moderate" liberal, do.
***
I got into a huge fight with my parents on Thursday night because they wouldn't let me skip school. Of course, it was entirely my fault, but I never admitted it. I confused them (frankly, I confuse myself, but I chalk it up to teenage angst and hormonal trouble), and now they are hardly speaking to me. When things do smooth over, we will continue our lives as if nothing ever happened.
***
I told everyone that I liked the play, but I didn't. Not that I didn't like the actors/actresses, because they were excellent in their roles; I hated the adaptation. I absolutely hated it. I don't think it kept with the message of the short story in the least.
***
We all play games. What games do you play?
After three years, I would like to think I'm not skirting around anything. I cannot break out of my habits of ignoring, hoping, and being disappointed. They have lessened, but perhaps I need even more time.
Last night at the temple, I saw a new boy. A boy I'd never seen before. I played the coquettish girl, a mixture of temerity and aloofness. He did the same thing, except according to the Guy rules. We didn't exchange any words, only a smile that we both understood to be an inside joke about the bustling ways of Indians. I always think of something clever to say long after the fact, but perhaps this moment was perfect in its silence with noise all around it.
***
Yesterday I met a girl who speaks 6 languages fluently (including Mandarin Chinese--which she practiced on her trip to China). She is undoubtedly intelligent. She's starting college in January. She has been all over the world (even more than me!), and also been up and down the East Coast and Southern California. Her brother is a professor at Harvard Law at the age of 28. I cannot stop thinking about how I compare to her. It is not a pretty thought. This happens far more often than I would like.
***
I pretended to laugh at the fact that this girl (who is older than I am, and in college, and arguably making the dumbest decisions she can) was "considering" becoming a Democrat. We both knew she wasn't. She watches The O'Reilly Factor and takes it seriously. I lost so much respect for her; I didn't even think Republicans watch that show. I say I don't have anything against Republicans, but it's not true. I do, I have quite a bit against them, that's why I am a Democrat. (Not that it matters--goddammit--because I couldn't even vote in the next election if I wanted it, because I would neither be 18 nor would I be a citizen.) I don't even have anything against the idea of Republicanism, I have quite a bit against people who cling to conservative values as though their lives depended on it and insist on shoving it in liberals' faces. I am not a tree-hugger, I've never had an abortion, and I don't want the US to become communist. I get very angry and closed-minded Republicans who think I, or any other "moderate" liberal, do.
***
I got into a huge fight with my parents on Thursday night because they wouldn't let me skip school. Of course, it was entirely my fault, but I never admitted it. I confused them (frankly, I confuse myself, but I chalk it up to teenage angst and hormonal trouble), and now they are hardly speaking to me. When things do smooth over, we will continue our lives as if nothing ever happened.
***
I told everyone that I liked the play, but I didn't. Not that I didn't like the actors/actresses, because they were excellent in their roles; I hated the adaptation. I absolutely hated it. I don't think it kept with the message of the short story in the least.
***
We all play games. What games do you play?
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