Monday, March 19, 2012

Article: Why Enigma's "Sadeness" Could Never Exist Today | The Hairpin

You guys, 90s childhoods. 

Why Enigma's "Sadeness" Could Never Exist Today | The Hairpin
http://thehairpin.com/2011/07/why-enigmas-sadeness-could-never-exist-today

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Sunday, March 4, 2012

http://joannagoddard.blogspot.com/2012/02/best-chocolate-ice-cream-youll-ever.html#more

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Thursday, February 23, 2012

@uwishunu, 2/23/12 2:48 PM

uwishunu Philly (@uwishunu)
2/23/12 2:48 PM
Our picks for the best places for Brunch in Philadelphia vstphl.ly/Abn8SF include @CafeEstelle @GreenEggsCafe @StandardTap & more


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Monday, February 20, 2012

9 Hyperrealistic Images Of Food


lindaswank@gmail.com thought you might like this buzz from BuzzFeed.com:

       9 Hyperrealistic Images Of Food
       Some amazing portrayals of food by an array of artists with very different styles. [Note: Looks like we got through that whole description without remarking that these paintings look "good enough to eat." Thank God for that.]
       http://www.buzzfeed.com/eggplantia5/9-hyperrealistic-images-of-food-5a5y

Message from Sender:

       

Article: The Corgi-Husky Combo



You guys, I die even though it's kind of tiny.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

It's not Seattle but...

Mostly for my own reference. Been to most of the ones in the city, but if I ever get out into the burbs I'll need some options, right?

http://www.uwishunu.com/2011/12/roundup-our-guide-to-hot-drinks-in-philadelphia-to-help-you-keep-warm-this-season/


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Saturday, January 28, 2012

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Saturday, January 14, 2012

I'll admit it, some days I do miss LA.

Shooting Stars (2011) by Ruby Friedman Orchestra

Monday, January 9, 2012

Seattle NHL, NBA Arena Moves Closer To Reality With Land Purchase - SBNation.com

Just so we're clear, this would officially make Seattle perfect. I'd move back just for season tickets.

Still too soon to talk about the Sonics, though.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Winter Classic, Eric Lindros, and So. Many. Feelings.

Not that this is any big surprise, but I love the Winter Classic. I love the idea, probably because growing up in America most of us as children don't have the experience of running out to the frozen pond and playing a pickup game of hockey. In fact, when I think about that, my mind automatically goes to the flashback scenes in The Mighty Ducks, so, you know, definitely not an authentic memory. Outside of Minnesota/Michigan and other basically Canadian places, the idea of outdoor hockey is something people only saw in Mystery, Alaska. 

Maybe Canadians think it's played out, although I don't really know if there's been any real chatter on the subject, and I know they already have their own outdoor Heritage Classic, but I think it's a great idea. I hope the NHL hosts one of the next games in Montreal or Toronto or Edmonton (or Winnipeg or Calgary or Vancouver!), since I think that sounds amazing. I'd totally get up into Canada to see a Leafs/Habs outdoor game. Detroit would also be a great venue, and of course I'm still looking for an excuse to get to Minneapolis/St. Paul, so if they could head out there sometime it'd be really appreciated. 

In fact, not to toot my own horn/sound super nerdy, but I like to think I had the idea before the Gary Bettmans of the world did. See, back in high school, when I had aspirations of writing for a living, I started many a short story, all of which can be found on spiral notebooks in my room at my parents' house. I've already mentioned the super embarrassing Flyers/Phantoms fan fiction of junior high, but this was a bit more sophisticated (not really) and grounded in reality (sort of). Most of them featured female protagonists not unlike myself, and most of them didn't get beyond a few pages. I really enjoyed the staging aspects of writing -- figuring out the players involved and the setting and everyone's background information -- and the initial hook, but I was never very good at figuring out the rest of the story. This may be due to the fact that most of these stories were really what I wished would have been my reality. I didn't know the future then, so how could I finish the story when it hadn't yet happened to me? 

I came up with a great story, though, one that at the time was to be my magnum opus, the definitive work of my ouevre. It followed a young woman who moved from Philly (of course) to Toronto (this was heavy into my Canadian phase, obviously) to work for the Maple Leafs. The twist, though, was that for the first several chapters, as she got established and made friends and was awesome at her job and took night classes, she kept almost-but-not-quite crossing paths with a young man who may or may not have been her soul mate. There were lots of scenes written with near misses -- seeing the backs of the other person or hearing a door close -- and confusion about how their lives were intertwined. Part 1 climaxed with their finally meeting, at a formal holiday party, where they don't really know what to do with the other person once they realize that they know the same people and have the same friends. They're pretty weirded out, but then of course they realize they have things in common, etc. etc. until happily ever after (I guess, again, the concept was great, but the ending never arrived). Reading it back through, it's actually kind of creepy, and I wish I'd focused more on how awkward that would be if it had happened in real life. (There are also lots of great outfits stolen from the Delia's catalog. I always wrote back then as if this manuscript was going to be turned into a movie, so it was very important that the outfits were described so that the designers would know what they should be looking for -- everything from the late 90s/early aughts era Delia's.)

My failed attempts at a career in chick lit notwithstanding, in this story the main character works in marketing for the Leafs. Not knowing anything about marketing at all didn't stop me from pretending, and her first big idea when she first starts on the job is on how to drum up excitement for the upcoming season/team (as if the Leafs ever need help in that department). Her idea? Stage an outdoor scrimmage for the fans in downtown Toronto. Booyah, NHL. Should've copyrighted that ish back in 2001. 

Whether or not it was my idea (and really, it's not), let's get back on the Winter Classic. Once it was announced (finally) to be in Philly this year, the excitement began building straight away. The Flyers had played two years ago in Fenway Park, which also would have been an amazing experience at a great venue. However, there is something more magical about being the home team, since it's not only a love note to the sport but also to the host city. Maybe the planners here were just really good at that part, but that's what it felt like, anyway. And once the rumors of Philly's prodigal son finally returning to take the ice during the Alumni Game started, and grew, and were confirmed, well, the whole thing became a must-see event. While a Legion of Doom reunion wasn't to be, the Flyers roster was, from top to bottom, a who's who of the organization. It was great to see the LCB line all together once again and watch that French Canadian hockey Santa Claus Bernie Parent in his gear from the seventies out on the ice. With Mark Howe's recent induction to the Hall of Fame, I was super excited to see him on the ice. Also a great figure? Former Flyers C Dave Poulin, who could now be rooted for again since leaving Notre Dame for a position in Toronto. Shjon Podein was a great reminder of the Minnesota line from 97 -- it would've been great to see Joel Otto and Trent Klatt out there as well. And of course my heart, Eric Desjardins, who made playing defense look easy. 

I don't know why I didn't just snap up tickets the moment they went on sale, but with it being late December  and the past two years being brutally cold and snow-filled, sometimes risking it two months out isn't a good idea. However, it's been a mild winter so far (knock on wood) and the forecast for WC weekend couldn't've been better (well, technically it could've been a little colder, just for the ice conditions to settle down, but for the fans it was perfect). Long story short, tickets were bought last minute via the always trusty Stubhub, long underwear and multiple layers were put on and hats were bought. CBP was full by the introductions, which were amazing. The whole day was really amazing, and you could tell that the organization had worked hard to make it a great event and that all the players were really enjoying it. Plus, we were sitting outside in a baseball stadium watching hockey with the Philly skyline in the background. 

I wrote an ode to Eric Lindros upon his retirement that I felt was a thing of beauty. It got a mention on this very blog as well, but sadly the ode can only be found via facebook wall post. Looking back on it all, especially that magical spring of 97, I actually really recall most of the memories with fondness. Out of all the people who have come here, whether by draft or trade, and wormed their way into our hearts, The Big E was certainly the one with the most potential -- and the one whose failure to live up to that potential made the situation most frustrating/saddening/asking what could have happened. Not saying that it was his fault, since he was certainly dedicated to the sport, city, and organization when he was here. But after the concussions and the accusations and rumors, it really is saying something that the last image I have of watching him play was that game 7 of the 2000 conference finals and seeing him take a blindside elbow from Scott Stevens (still not over it). I can only imagine what would've happened if that game had taken place a decade later, with the new rules and regulations out there and just the overall changes to the game after the lockout. 

I'm not saying I don't remember him as a Ranger or as a Maple Leaf, but yes, it's pretty obvious that Eric Lindros is and should and will continue to be synonymous with the Flyers. The story of him and his talent and what happened with the Nordiques and how the Flyers got him has been told a hundred times, and certainly isn't something that needs to be discussed again via blog. The story of what he did while he was here continues in the debate over his Hall of Fame status. He seems to have made a peaceful transition to life outside of hockey now, which is truly great for him. I don't know when the acrimony from those last few months here finally left, although it was certainly pronounced at his retirement, but it's true that it is gone. That era of the Flyers is hard to think of as a memory, but it's been a decade and there are plenty of current players to be angry with. That's why it was so great to hear he was coming back to play -- that the organization had reached out and he was willing and wanted to do it. It was great to watch him and Bobby Clarke bury the past for all of us looking on and skate around during practice together. It was amazing to see him on the ice again with John LeClair and Mark Recchi and everyone else. He still looked the same -- was still the biggest, tallest player on the ice. He still skated the same. I had forgotten that stride and glide, why we called him poetry in motion; it never made sense that someone so big could skate so well, but there it was and it is still as distinctive as ever. It was also a strangely sad feeling to watch him, knowing the power and skill that was still there but also thinking that any real hit or bump in the corner had the potential to turn his life upside down again (seeing Mike Richter and Keith Primeau on the sides for post-concussion reasons also drove the point home). However, it was his assist on John LeClair's goal in the first period, watching them on the screen skate to the corner and seeing him smile and laugh as John LeClair looked almost embarrassed -- like why am I doing this/what year is it -- and then seeing everyone else come in with the hugs and pats, that really made me get it for the first time in a long time. It was cemented watching him sit on the bench among the Mites on Ice and seeing these five year old kids swarm around and not pay any attention to their game. 

There were already younger kids that took up most of our daydreaming time back in those days. The rookies that were closer in age and seemed more attainable, if that's really even possible, that you could watch on draft day and then see in person a few months later. But yeah, seeing Eric Lindros on the ice one more time in the orange and black -- and for the first time actually in person -- I totally got it. It was bittersweet, what with our history and all and seriously, the potential for what could have been, the if onlys and what ifs in this case bubbling to the top. Not just during the playing days, but if things had ended better and he stayed in the area, the good that could have been done in these years for all the various causes he had supported and ties to the community, appearances at the Carnival, all the free beers that would've been bought on his behalf. Maybe that wouldn't've happened, and maybe the return to Canada was really what was best, but it would have been really great if Eric Lindros had been part of our lives for the past ten years rather than exiled. I hope there has been real peace made by everyone involved, but also for him. It must have been hard to take everything that happened to him physically and interpersonally, coupled with the expectations around him, and deal with that. It would be great if this was the start of more involvement, but the Alumni Game itself can really stand alone. It was a great day all around, a last chance to see many players suit up one more time, and the atmosphere was mindblowing. There are just so many feelings and memories tied up with all those guys that made the day special.




Sunday, January 1, 2012

Let's just move 2011's resolutions over to 2012, okay? They all still apply and/or could use some work, plus I thought they were good ones.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Tebowing

I saw a comment on the Internet or the ESPN ticker yesterday from someone saying (this is the gist of it, not a direct quote): This is just God's way of rewarding Tim Tebow for his faith!

This quote, and the entire sentiment behind it is exactly what everyone who hates Tebow hates. That and the fact that it's all everyone can talk about. Plenty of other players from the NFL and other sports talk about God and pray during games. I admit he talks about it more than most, but all evidence suggests he is more devout than many of the other players. Anyone whose been on a mission is ten times more devoted than most of the rest of us. And I truly believe he views his stature and his opportunity in the league as the mission field, the best opportunity to get his message out there. I get it. I don't feel one way or the other about it, but knowing a bit about how that whole religion thing works, I understand that line of thinking.

However, the most annoying thing about it all is the touting of his message in the media and everyone who perpetuates the idea that God is really rewarding him by letting him win games. This is inane. I have no doubt that when he gets to heaven, God will give him a high five and tell him well done, but to actually believe that God is thinking, hey, that guy is talking about me all the time, I'm going to let his football team win just to spite the haters out there is just beyond. I'm not saying I haven't prayed, hard, for my team of choice to win an important game and I'm not implying God isn't powerful enough to do anything about it if he wanted to, but no. Just no.

It's less about football and much more about religion and the devout. I'm not trying to say Tim Tebow is being persecuted for his beliefs, but the zeal with which his haters hate doesn't stem from anything other than a visceral reaction to him talking about Jesus and a desire to see him lose to shut him up.

I'm not convinced the guy has what it takes to be truly successful in the NFL -- the skill to read defenses and accurately throw the ball, since long term success will hinge on doing so much more than this for more than just a quarter. But, the guy won when he was in high school and again in college. Winning at various levels counts for something, it breeds the intangibles that are also important to success. That doesn't mean he'll always be successful and it doesn't mean he won't. But just because people don't like someone's mechanics or their athleticism isn't the real indicator of their success at the pro level. The critiques of his game are legit, as is the fact that he currently finds a way to win (albeit with a better than average defense, which also helps). The level of giddiness the haters exude when he is losing, and the level of schadenfreude the fans exhibit when he pulls out wins, are not.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

And a follow up, if I may.

In light of the epic post below, I realize that I may seem somewhere along the sliding scale from sad/depressed to crazy. I could also be shooting myself in the foot with regard to any sort of romantic liaison I want to have in the future. I may have said too much about things and people. Can I add that all as a disclaimer now? I'm aware it's probably not attractive, but well, I'm okay with that. I am none of those things on the continuum, for an extended period of time at least, and I'm well aware of all my flaws and faults in all of the situations I mention below. Really I'm just someone trying to work through life as it changes and as I make decisions that I am uncertain about, which is all of them. I already regret that I've even put this out into the ether, and would like to get back to your regularly scheduled posts of music videos and karaoke lists and links to funny articles, okay?

Monday, December 5, 2011

Let's have a chat, shall we?

Below is a prime example of why I shouldn't be allowed to blog during times of drinking. Also, the fact that I now feel compelled to write a follow up post explaining everything (like, seriously everything, going back well into the past and talking about real people, so I apologize in advance for offending anyone or hurting anyone's feelings, but as five people read this thing, it is more helpful for me to be as honest as possible than worry about offending people I don't even talk to anymore), which isn't really what I want to be doing. However, I also kind of feel like it will be cathartic/helpful, as well as not believing in deleting blog posts, as it's one step away from censorship (somehow this makes sense to me, even as I know it's not true). This isn't well-written at all, so I also apologize for typing out a serious blog post on an iPad and in front of football.

I haven't written a blog post where I was really frustrated or emotional in a couple of years, and not one of this length since college. It also really pains me to write college as if it was so long ago, but truth is that, well, it is. I'll touch on this in a bit.

I feel like I need to explain some things here, give some background on what's happened in the past year. It was my New Year's resolution to blog more, but I feel that I've failed this resolution by not blogging enough. Technically I've blogged a lot more than I have in the past couple years, but even that isn't enough to satisfy something as serious as a New Year's resolution. I blame this mostly on the fact that, if you didn't know, I moved back to the East Coast last February. I got offered a job working for a nonprofit in Wilmington, DE and didn't feel I was at a time in my life where I could turn down such an opportunity. I had been thinking about getting a "real" job for a bit, and when this one sort of fell in my lap and allowed me to get back to Philly, well, it happened.

To do so I had to leave a place I'd grown to like (LA) and a coast that I miss every day, including an amazing city I want to get back to as soon as possible (Seattle). I also had to leave behind friends and the boyfriend, although we did not break up upon my departure for the East Coast, no matter what you hear. The following months were a whirlwind of getting acclimated again to the weather and an office job and my parents, who I stayed with until June. Really I'm still transitioning with the whole job thing -- I really miss working the bar and free good coffee and interacting with customers, actually. However, I don't miss carpal tunnel and super early bedtimes and early mornings, so we'll see. I still consider myself a barista by trade and am proud that I was able to succeed at that job and make awesome friends in those various places.

By the time I had gotten my bearings and a new apartment in the city, it was summer. I had a great visit in Seattle with everyone, but I was experiencing lots of doubts about my relationship. We were on a "break" earlier in the summer, and it was literally the toughest decision of my life to decide to officially end it, although I do feel it was the right decision. It is totally on me, since I was not willing or able to put the time and effort into keeping that relationship going from so far away, but not wanting to change the distance in any way to alleviate that factor. It's been hard, since he is my best friend and was such a huge part of my life for the past three years that it almost feels like it would've been better if the breakup had been messy, since it would be easier to feel anger rather than sadness whenever talk about it comes up. However, it was pretty amicable in that way, but I know it's been hard on both of us. Hard for the months since then as we both struggle with the fact that we're not together and why and what that means. I feel bad for hurting someone's feelings and making them sad and I struggle with seeing that on the Internet and not being able to tell them what they want to hear or feeling like I failed to be what that was. It makes me sad when I wonder if I'll ever meet someone who makes me laugh like that or who I feel that comfortable with or that I like enough to hang out with 24/7 again and if I haven't made a huge mistake and thrown it all away for nothing. I am not the person who was dying to get married and settle down and all of that, but it makes me sad to think it won't happen with him, since I had pictured that and not completely freaked the eff out, which is a good sign.

Basically, it's been hard all around. I also can't understand how or what I'm supposed to do now that I'm technically back in the game, so to speak. I don't really want to be back in the game, and don't really ever consider myself to be a player in the game to begin with. Relationships of that sort (romantic, that is, I feel like I put a high premium on friendships?) have never been a huge priority, not that they haven't been a desire, but not a real priority in my life. I like to think that I'm beyond that in that my life doesn't revolve around finding a boyfriend or keeping a boyfriend or getting a boyfriend to marry me. I have interests and goals and desires outside of getting married and having kids. But that doesn't mean I don't want to have someone to share that with, to help make that special and someone to lean on when things get tough. But I don't really want to be out there, doing whatever people do in this age to try and find that person, whether it's going out to bars or online dating or whatever (not to say they're bad, they just make me tired just thinking about them). I don't have the time or the money at any given time to do that. It's also hard not knowing too many people and being the type of person who just wants to enjoy some quiet time when I get home from work rather than go out and be social. Also, a lot of people are dbags, and so why do I want to dive into that? I'm not looking for or very interested in just playing around, and by that I don't meant I'm looking to jump into a serious relationship, but just that I need to do me and not what anyone else would do.

It's been a while since I had a real crush. I mean, who didn't have crushes as a teenager; my locker had pictures of music and movie stars in high school and I can't not say there weren't some glamour shots up on the walls in college either. But those have died off, and those don't really count, do they? But the crushes on real people, the people you work with or live with or hang out with every day, those are the ones that count. And it's been a while since I had one of those. In high school there were about ten boys in my graduating class and I'd known most of them since elementary or junior high and my focus was just on getting out of high school and going to a good college. I did have one real unrequited crush that I think may have had a chance if either of us had made a real move, but has now long since passed as we went off to college and new locations and new friends and marriage, in his case. It's easy to write that off as something from a long time ago that wasn't even real--just something to make the days of high school pass by faster. And how much did I know about them, really? We may have known each other for a long time, but different schools and experiences and things mean that if we met now, what would we really talk about?

It's harder to write off college, since that was the beginning of being an adult and owning choices and all that comes with living away from home and not having adults watching your every move. It's hard to think back, when you're at your five year reunion and everyone is trying to find their freshman year crushes, and realize that you did that, it was horrible, and completely flamed out. It's a feeling that really just makes you want to drink. And when that person gets engaged a couple months later, what do you say or feel? That's really a topic for another blog post, but you really think that it's for the best, since the idea of being in a relationship with them five years ago made you hyperventilate, and you realize that they are the opposite of what you want -- whiny, constantly pointing out the smallest detail being out of place, oblivious to their privilege. But some part of you always remembers them as you remember them when you were twenty, and how you would do anything for that validation and how they were fun and had similar interests and you could always turn to them when things were weird and they would understand exactly what you were thinking from the look on your face. I truly think that many relationships are really about timing in this way. If you're lucky you and the person you're interested in are interested in each other at the same time and otherwise unattached. But if one of you is interested in someone else or in a relationship or abroad for a year, things happen. People grow and have experiences and upon return, everyone is in different places and the time has passed and you've missed the window for it to turn into something -- and headed straight into it probably being a very bad idea.

I really do believe things work out, or don't work out, for a reason. And things not working out in college meant that I got to go to Seattle and meet amazing friends and fall in love with a city and state and boy that I wouldn't give back for anything. And I did do that, all of that, and I don't regret how it all went down. I think the last year in Seattle, when I was just starting out in that relationship, was really quite perfect. I was living with people I liked and I was really good at my job and I had a great boyfriend and we did fun things together and laughed and laughed. And when we decided it was time to go to LA I wanted to do that with him, even though I swore I'd never go to Southern California and even though those first few months were hard, trying times and I really wanted to give up. There is really a lot about LA that is obnoxious, but there is a lot that makes it fun. It would be a lot more fun if I'd had any real money, but it was even fun on a limited budget. I liked the weather and going hiking year round and seeing all the movies that came out and serving celebrities and going to fun restaurants and coffee shops and being able to go to the farmer's market all the time. And if everything above hadn't happened as it happened, I wouldn't have had any of those experiences.

So, suffice to say, I wasn't really, and am not currently, looking for anything. But as always happens, life is sneaky in that way sometimes. When I wasn't paying attention, as I was complaining about a PPT presentation I was editing in Germany of all places and annoyed I had to go to a dinner when I just wanted to go back to the hotel and chill out, something happened. I didn't realize it at the time, it was just a really fun night with some cool people and Indian food and free flowing wine and walking through Frankfurt. And it really had to be, as I'd left my wallet at the fair site and, as such, would have been unable to pay for anything if we didn't make it to that free buffet. Anyway, it didn't hit me then either, as my focus afterwards was just on making sure we got back to the hotel and then it was back to work for a few more days, back to the US, back to the real job, and up to Boston as the last stop on a whirlwind month of travel across ten time zones. When I was able to breathe, however, it was something. It was hope that maybe there was a reason to go out and put myself out there, that there may be some interesting people out there that are also good and kind and fun.

I fully realize and admit that most of this is my fault. I always pin my hopes on something I know I'm probably blowing out of proportion or making up in my mind. But I thought that this work event last week would give a chance to see if it was just in my head or perhaps the inkling of something with potential. And I also admit I got my hopes up a little when a coworker mentioned that she saw something there too. It had been a long, long time since I had wanted something that badly you guys, and I don't know if I wanted what it represented or what was physically there, or a combination of both, but the devastation of it blowing up in my face was horrible. It was horrible when I had a couple of drinks, and it was also horrible the next morning in the sober darkness of waking up at 5 am. It wasn't that anything bad happened, it was that nothing happened. It was that nothing happened and I felt that happening and couldn't stop it. We had traveled on a 6:45 train that morning and the restaurant we were at turned into a dance club in like, a song, and I freaking had my period, so instead of doing something or anything I was content to nurse my drink and let the others do the talking. This happens without the early morning and the monthly gift, really, the moment the decibel level goes above a level where you can converse across the table easily and you give me a drink, I am more than happy to sit back in my thoughts and watch the ESPN ticker, especially when it's telling you that your prime football candidate (pipe dream, but still) has been hired by Wazzou.

I had just been told about a vibe, even though we both fully admitted we were awful at reading vibes, and I didn't feel anything at this time. Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention and maybe the things I do remember I'm reading too much into, but it was just a complete and utter failure. I am not usually a move maker, but if there was any time for me to muster up the courage, it would've been right here. I mean, it could've been completely unwanted, but at least I would know and would have tried and would've been embarrassed for like, a day before moving on, rather than stuck in the indecision of not knowing -- vacillating between hoping for something and trying to be rational and say that there wasn't anything there and berating myself for thinking that I'm awesome and everyone should know that (although I am and they should). I mean, we don't do a lot of events, so our next thing is in June, about seven months from now. That is an eternity in real life, more than enough time for someone to meet someone and start a relationship and define the relationship and make it serious, so much so that pinning one's hopes on that date several months from now is laughable and stupid. People have gotten engaged in less time, and it's just not healthy thinking.

Unfortunately, there wasn't any sort of in allowed by anyone in this instance. Even my coworker didn't want to say too much for fear of embarrassing anyone, and it's true, perhaps a place like that at a time like that wasn't the right time -- it was a work expense and all. It's just sucky because there's no way to continue the conversation, no Twitter or Facebook or email opening. I mean, there is, of course, but there wasn't an in like, find me on facebook or here's my email or we should hang out when you come back to New York. It's funny that something like that would've made me happy at the time, but it would've.

Anyway, that's the state of mind I was in when I pushed out a blog post -- frustrated and annoyed and disappointed in myself for doing or not doing anything and/or for making the whole thing up in my head and/or pinning what is really my metaphorical wishes and desires in the wake of the last six months on someone I've met twice. Just writing all this down will be more than helpful in moving me along; help in quelling those pesky emotions that I try not to have. Again, everything happens or doesn't happen for a reason, even if I don't know what it is yet. I need to write that again just for my own sake. At any given time it's hard to see why things are unfolding as they are, even if it's not what I want then, but I do trust that these things work out as they are meant to, even if I secretly wish they could work out how I want them to.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

I need to say this....

I'm about to be real with you, handful of blog readers. Mostly because I'm not completely sober, although I'd say I am not even tipsy anymore, so my next step is sober. I'm sure I'll regret this, but I want to be honest.

I met a person last month, but didn't think too much about them until coming back from all my travels. Then I realized and thought, hey wait, we might have a real connection. And then I thought, well let's wait and see what happens at this event happening now.

However, whatever ideas I may have about events, grand dreams and schemes I think and hope will happen never do. Today is a perfect example. Of course they won't be able to make it to the perfect event that isn't too loud or full, and then when they do arrive it's at another bar that's become a dance party and it's ten at night and I wonder if there was even anything last time we met or if it was just made up from me or other people and EFF AMERICA, why is this so hard?

I am not any good at reading people or knowing that stuff and I just wish it had happened, you know? I really feel that way but I hate that I do if it was nothing and I just want to go home tomorrow rather than stay in this godforsaken city in the hope that something will happen when it obviously won't-slash-didn't.

That was a huge run-on sentence but perfectly illustrates my state of mind right now. I am disappointed and sad and back mired in reality. I mean, really, what did I expect to happen? We would just meet again and everything would be perfect, even though it wasn't before, and they would be obviously interested and I would say, hey, I'm in the city for another day or two and we should hang out and they would say, yeah we should definitely do that and we would actually do that and it would be great and we would all live happily effing after? I mean, really?!??!?? Who am I to think that anyone would feel that way about me and actually act on it? That seems so self-centered of me and I hate it, but I do wish it was true cause I also know I'm great. I need to go all caps for a minute here, you guys, but I'm giving you a warning. I hate that I built this thing up out of probably nothing and let it fester in my mind and get me excited and happy even when I told myself that it wasn't real. I hate that I don't even know that it was or wasn't and that I wanted it to be and expected and thought and dreamt it would work out. EFF ME IN THE A, AMERICA, BUT I WANTED THIS SO BADLY AND WHY COULDN'T YOU GIVE ME THIS ONE THING, THIS ONE ALLOWANCE IF HOPE?

So.
Many.
Feelings.
Bah.
I hate feelings.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

So this happened...

At last week's Flyers-Jets game I was in a row with the usual assortment of dude-bros, families, etc. but there was also a father-son combo of peculiar note. I probably wouldn't've noticed anything if they weren't seated in the middle of the row and kept climbing in and out during intermissions for beers. This was an adult son, salt and pepper hair but probably mid-30s to early-40s wearing a Flyers/Bobby Clarke orange zip up sweatshirt/sweater/jacket hybrid. (FYI, the dad was not wearing any particular Flyers branding.) I couldn't help but wonder....

 ...if they understood that they're a stereotype now.

This song is everything I want right now.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

I feel like I've really been slacking with my blogging duties because, well, I totally have been. I just feel more guilty about it because people have been linking to my blog in their blogs and things and then I wonder what strangers must think when my blog pops up. I pretty much try to live my life not caring what strangers think, I mean, they don't know me and all, but I also have been meaning and wanting to write stuff. It's just so nice once I get back at night to be home and eat food and drink a beer and watch a Phils game and then climb into bed, which is super comfy and inviting, and sleep, which is my favorite activity.

Also, it's hard having a public blog sometimes. It's not even about the number of people who read it from time to time, but it has my name attached to it. It's so personal. I am not the person who can write daily about my life and all my thoughts and feelings. When I am feeling weird this blog is often the outlet for it, but that's mostly just been in retrospect or about (the game of) LIFE, you know? Sometimes I want to start a new blog that isn't stamped with me, just so I can say something crazy that won't get linked back to me. Which is pretty much everything I like and dislike about the Internet wrapped up in one sentence.

I just finished a book called Girls in White Dresses, my first iBook. Its style was different than I expected. Reading it in the iBook app was also kind of weird. But it only took me a day to get through it, so obviously I was involved. A month or so ago I got The Romantics and was into that for several days. Last year I spent some days immersed in Commencement, reading it in the back room during lulls in bussing shifts at the cafe. Basically, if there's a book you have read or written about figuring out life as a twenty-something college-educated female, I am going to completely identify with everything about it.

I'm aware of the privilege that abounds in books like this, and it's not usually my thing. I've found in my old age that I'd rather read non-fiction books than most fiction. I've read a lot of memoirs in the past couple of years. I like books on culture or history or sports, especially if it becomes a movie. I read a book that was mainly pictures of the characters' stuff with only captions to tell the story (last I heard Brad Pitt and Natalie Portman were going to be the leads in the movie). I also read a book that was all drawings of what the author had bought for a year. I also read some mysteries and some chick lit--although I (like to think I) have standards there. If the title is a play on any type of expensive shoe, it doesn't get read. If it involves moms and their babies and NYC it probably also has a shoe pun title and doesn't get read. If its cover is mostly tasteful looking and it's British and seems to feature a decent girl who's caught in some wacky situation that involves her getting thrown back together with her boyfriend/fiancé/crush from high school/childhood/college or realizing her best friend/roommate/coworker is actually really perfect with his hipster glasses and curly hair, I'm totally there. Also, if the book is a modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice you just sold me. It is my life's work to ingest every movie and dead tree version of that tale.

These recent books are sort of a weird medium between reading a book on the Balkans and what's basically a rom com on paper. It's obvious why they speak to me--the women writing these books are me, minus the book and movie deals. We're navigating life in the 2000s, trying to reconcile what we thought our lives would be like back when they were in front of us with what they are now that we're there. With some exceptions, there isn't much shock value here. There isn't any action or adventure or high drama surrounding affairs of the body/heart. It's just people watching as everyone around them seems to have their life together, when in reality they are just looking at you wondering the same thing. It makes me want to write and be a better person and get out and do more or move to where more friends are. But it's also just comforting to know that this is what everyone goes through, in some shape or form. It reminds me that there isn't anything I would change about life so far--I don't desire to anyone's life but my own and don't feel any pressure to be anywhere but the place I am now.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Monday, July 4, 2011

There are so many things to say, dear blog and its readers, but it's hard to know where to begin. I think I can summarize some of the main themes of what I want to say, though, by talking about yesterday. I came home for the holiday last night, also because I had some laundry to do, but mostly for the Fourth, and I was going through an old bookcase in my room that also holds old papers and journals and cards and notes. There was really no good reason for me to keep every Valentine's card from my parents, or even every birthday card, so I was just going through everything and deciding what was unimportant enough to be recycled.

Going through all those old cards and notes -- and notebooks and the 2002 BC "facebook" before facebook existed was really nostalgic. I just fully remembered what life felt like in high school and early college, but especially high school. The feeling of having all of your life, and all of its decisions, more importantly, is so overwhelming at the time that it's hard to know in the future you'll miss it. And I know I'm by no means old and know there are still so many things left to do in my life and all of that stuff that everyone says, but in those past ten years or so all of those choices I made at sixteen have formed where and who I am now. I certainly don't regret anything, but just facing the facts that I've chosen where I want to go to school and what I want to major in (even if I haven't figured out what I want to do when I grow up) and that the next major life choices involve other people (marriage, babies) and their futures rather than just my own is daunting.

I rarely get so introspective, but when I do I always want to blog, so it may look like that. The feeling was really kicked off after going to church yesterday and realizing that all of these people from high school/that part of life were there. By all, I really mean like four, but it was just startling having been away for so long and it not being the "cool" church during my adolescence. Even the guy I have come to realize epitomizes(d) (he may or may not still be a dbag, so I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, but last I heard he was) the Christian douchebag was there, and it was jarring. Just a what are you doing here/get off my lawn feeling. I felt that way when people moved into the Pacific Northwest too. I guess I should be happy the community is not so insular or whatever anymore, but it just takes some getting used to, and apparently I'm not there yet.

I'll get to the subject of moving and college reunions next time. Now, fireworks.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

I really want more hobbies, you guys, but I'm totally unmotivated in that department.

Going to the gym doesn't count, not really. I'd say something like that's a "lifestyle" but I'd just be kidding. Sort of. Even going to the gym to read magazine isn't a hobby. I don't read about half of the magazines at the gym out of pleasure, but out of some sort of masochistic need to look at glossy photos and read about celebrity's homes and how they're just like us.

I'm not even dedicated enough to TV or movies to count them as hobbies. Especially while living in LA, where you can go see almost any movie or TV show not associated with Law and Order, I don't feel like I ever reached the level to call them hobbies. Sure, I like to watch trailers and read casting news and then go see the ones I was really excited for, but I wasn't going to the movies or premieres all the time and taking advantage of that. Some of that was timing. Some of that was money. And I know I have missed out on shows, especially, that I'd totally be down with. But there's something about spending more time than I already dedicate to be in front a screen when I could actually stare at something else, you know?

I did learn the basic steps of knitting. But then the yarn kept curling in on everything and they banned knitting needles on planes or something and I never got around to moving beyond knit 1 purl 1.

I always want to cook or bake more, but there's no time or money for that. Or wasn't. Maybe now. There were a couple months we obsessively followed the food trucks around -- but I'd never consider myself a foodie. I mean, I like to eat things that taste good, and I'd like them to be local, pesticide-free, and humanely raised, but I can't say I've ever really desired to be the type of person who's a regular at Tilth.

I want to learn to play the drums or bass -- but I'm not sure how the foot pedal will work on the drums. I can't even handle it in Rock Band, how am I going to handle the real thing?! And, I'm not sure if I'm dating this blog, but anyone who's been reading it since the early days know I am not going to be drawn into the music scene. My tastes are far too varied, and far too mainstream, to delve into that hipster kingdom. So while it will always be a hobby in that I love it and will find what I like, I will never be THAT into music. Besides, my feeling on it all is that you like what moves your soul. If that's corny pop music, well, then hat's off to you. But never let anyone tell you that it's wrong -- if it affects you on a deeper level, then take that and own it.

I should re-join a soccer team, but for some reason Seattle's club sports scene seems amazing compared to LA's and Philly's. Maybe it's because everyone out there likes to be outdoors or you have to just live with the fact that it's going to rain at some point every day so you might as well have fun, but they had everything going on over there. Also, a dedication to green space. I'd love to get out the field hockey stick again, but that's even harder than soccer.

Even writing this blog isn't a hobby, cause I do it so rarely. I'm doing better than the past couple of years, though, so obviously I'm taking my New Year's Resolution to heart.

I've decided, after all that, that my hobby will be Groupon/LivingSocial/whatever else deals. There have been several awesome events that have been advertised on these services -- and therefore in my email -- that I have not picked up. An architectural walking tour of Philly. An historical walking tour too. I was actually really excited for that one, since I haven't been there for "history" since about the fifth grade. There were also a couple of food tours, including a food truck tour (effing love those things). There were two for one tickets to the National Constitution Center, and their current exhibit's marketing has totally won me over. There have been a couple rock climbing offers, one with a brewery tour after that. I'm sure soon there will be a Please Touch offer, or a zoo one. I want to go to the zoo like whoa. When the Franklin Institute two for one offer came up a couple days ago, I snagged it and decided that no longer was I going to worry about not having a two for my one with these deals. If I do, great, and if not, that's fine with me too.

Seriously though, guys, I need someone to go to the Franklin Institute with me, then grab some Indian food ($20 for $40 in food), and then hit the movies (2 Fandango tickets for $6).

And, even though I'm 0-for-2 in the NYC day trip department, I am going to get there. I am going to get coffee from Stumptown at the Ace Hotel, I am going to get a free cupcake from the Sprinkles truck, and I am going to view the McQueen exhibit at the Met and then head off to the Guggenheim. MARK MY WORDS, New York. If anything, your train/bus ride will offer ample opportunity to catch up on all the SIs I haven't read.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Okay, by exercise I actually meant surf the internet more and then go eat some Ben and Jerry's. That still isn't any better though, is it.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Why can't searching for an apartment be easier? Seriously, America, I HATE having to deal with Craigslist. Too many people are running scams and weird and looking for a "female friends with benefits" situation. If there's ever a doubt in anyone's minds that the education system in this country is effed, just reading Craigslist makes that like, Crystal Pepsi clear, you guys. And you know what's seriously Stockholm syndrome-y about the whole situation? I have a Craigslist app on the iPad that's SO much better than the site, but I seriously miss that sea of blue links when I'm not looking at it. Please use that last sentence to get House to take my case, after I go crazy from dealing with apartment searching.

Why can't there seriously just be a relatively nice, rodent and bug-free, hardwood apartment anywhere from below Race to above South, preferably west of Broad and east of the Schuylkill that isn't half my salary? Are we really living in a time where someone pays 800 dollars or more for a 300 square feet studio with half a stove on a busy street with no utilities included? It really makes me so depressed that I think, hey, it's okay to live with my parents for a while, I mean, they like me and they cook for me and have cable TV so I can watch Criminal Minds on Ion every night and take me to the mall......and then I become so horrified at the thought of that life that I'm back on Craigslist.org RIGHT AWAY.

I seriously just want to hire a realtor for my stupid apartment search. Isn't that what America's about? Hiring someone to do something you don't want to do? Is that what's gotten us to this place? Everything makes sense now, you guys.

I know it'll work out -- I've had like, one bad Craigslist apartment out of four and once you really dial it in and buckle down and make Craigslist your beezy, well, it's only an apartment, you know?

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's 11:30pm on a Saturday night, which means it's obviously time to go do some working out in the basement.






(Save me!)

Friday, March 25, 2011

Okay you guys, I'm totally obsessed with the song I linked to/tweeted/face booked to everyone. I find myself, being back home again and not on vacation, kind of falling into habits I last had when I lived at home. You guys, THAT WAS HIGH SCHOOL. Maybe because I don't have the freedom of being on my own or just the space that having a place would give me or because my boyfriend is far away, but why isn't really important. I just feel like I feel things like I did then. I posted on this very blog about the various obsessions in my life, and that's kind of what I feel happening now. So, maybe it does have something to do with the idea that, you know, living takes up a lot of time. You can't fall into random black holes about TV shows or fan fiction or celebs as easily because there's a job to do and bills to pay and significant others to be nice to. At home, not that I don't love my parents and the home cooked food and all, but living is easy. Sort of. There's still that pesky job thing, but you know.

Anyway, I just mean I'm obsessed with this song in the way that when I hear it years from now I will flashback to this exact time in my life and remember everything I was feeling at this exact moment. I will remember sitting here and typing out this blog post. On my new iPad! Typing a whole sentence in caps is the most annoying part of this touch screen experience so far, and that's a compliment. I haven't jumped into the paid app boat yet, but when I do I'll be sunk. Those things take up all my time. So I'm trying to hold off as long as possible from buying a lot of apps and turning on the 3G. So I may make it to Sunday, but that'll probably be it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go off and listen to this song four billion more times.