Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Stop and smell the somethings.

Life is full of beautiful, weird, and surprising little moments that you don't realize are happening until they've already happened.

Like when you watch a movie from years ago that you haven't seen since you were a kid, and you understand a joke in the movie that you didn't get before (example: all of the references to Streisand's 'Funny Girl' that happen in 'Mrs. Doubtfire').

Or when a song you're listening to in your car has a beat that matches the motion of the windshield wiper blades (The Pierces' "Boy in a Rock N' Roll Band" goes great with the second setting in my car).

Or when you see a small child randomly grab ahold of their parent and tell them "I love you" for seemingly no reason, right there in public, with little motivation to do so.

Or when you sit down with a glass of wine and three Advil at the end of a shitty day at work (my "bad day at the office" regiment) and let out that first sigh of relief because you're at home, in a safe place, and no longer at the mercy of the world's assholes.

I've started to write these moments down as soon as I can remember them. They might creep on to this blog from time to time. You have been warned.

PS-Go watch the Lady GaGa/Beyonce video for Beyonce's new song "Videophone" because it too is one of life's weirdly beautiful little moments. The song isn't half bad, either.

"I heard you crying loud
all the way across town
You've been searching for that someone,
and it's me out on the prowl
As you sit around feeling sorry for yourself."

Thursday, November 12, 2009

The Life Elusive

Gah! Nearly a whole month without blogging? Shame on me. Not that this is inconsistent behavior for me, mind you, but still...

...Actually it sort of fits a behavioral pattern of mine. I always say "I'm going to go do this" and then about two days later I reflect "man, I should've gone and done this." I can blame finances for this current pattern of forgetful missteps--After all, it's hard to be gun-ho about errands and appointments when you're rationing out your bank account daily (if I put ten bucks in my tank, then I have 5 bucks to buy some groceries the day after that, which leaves me 7 bucks to use on a haircut).

However lately the issue with my lack of sterling savings has become more of a crutch (read: excuse) for anything that doesn't seem to go my way. "Well I'm poor, which is why I couldn't afford to drive out to the so-and-so writer's exhibit to network with other writers." It's a lame excuse, really albeit completely understandable. It's one thing I need to change about my life right now.

Another change is that in the past 2 months I've done less exploring of this city I call home. We've lived here for almost 6 months (I know right?) and yet things have sort of fallen flat in terms of checking things out and experiencing new things. Of course finances, once again, can be blamed for this (for consistency reasons). Thus I've decided that every time we get paid, Josh and I are going to have a "date night" somewhere in the city. We'll either shake the ol' Urban Spoon application or hit "random" on 'The Stranger Online' restaurant search engine, set a limit of 2 $$ signs out of 4 $$$$ signs, and then hit the town. The catch is that we'll never go to the same place twice.

Is there a nice sense of comfort in a new place that comes with going to the same places? Sure thing. But even the delicious nom-noms of Jet City Pizza, The Wedgewood Broiler, and I HEART Bento get repetitive after several visits.

Halloween was an absolute, balls-out blast. The Friday beforehand was spent working (of course) during the day and then partying by night. Together with our friend Julie and her boyfriend (also named Ryan, because in my circle of friends there are two of every animal), we went to this surreal warehouse party sponsored by Jones Soda and RIDE Snowboards. I use the word "surreal" because it felt like we were in an episode of 'The Real World' or 'Gossip Girl' or some such glitz-o-rama, fantastical alternate universe. Not only was it in a warehouse in Fremont, but there was no cover charge, free beer(! And it was Pyramid Ale!), free music, free stuff (I won a belt and Josh won a tee shirt), and some guy walking around taking pictures of neat costumes. For our part, we were dressed up as "horror dandies." Meaning gruesome costumes and makeup with fancy attire. I was a skeleton, Josh was a werewolf, Julie was a traditional, Dia De Las Muertas inspired zombie, and otherRyan was a hanged man. The aforementioned fellow taking pictures stopped us and said something like "nice theme!" and proceeded to take several photos for some unknown web site. We're still not sure who he was with or where those photos are posted, actually...

I spent Halloween itself working late into the night and then house partying. Nothing to write home about other than it's nice to be welcomed by other pseudo-adults into a house party where there are both fancy, vegan appetizers and beer pong in the same room. It was a real testament to the stage of life we're all in at the moment: Somewhere between stuff-shirt cocktail parties and spewing in the street after too much binge drinking.

Josh and I went over to West Seattle a few days ago to pick up his art that was showing in the art walk during September/October. No buyers, but a lot of "interest" in his pieces, and exposure is absolutely necessary even if monetary rewards don't emerge as an outcome. We stopped in a record store on California Ave. while we were down there. I don't remember the name of it, but there were also sandwiches and coffee at a cafe inside of it. This bears further investigating.

I think I'm going to make a mix for my friend Alli and try to send it across the Pacific to her in Korea. It's times like these that messenger pigeons would be really cool. Or if I could somehow be assured that if I put it in a bottle and threw it in the sea, it would was ashore just seconds from her apartment building, then I would totally message-in-a-bottle her. I think I;d have to put the mix on a flash drive and put it in the bottle, though. I don't think a CD would fit in there.

"You want me?
Fucking well come and find me.
I'll be waiting
With a gun and a pack of sandwiches.
And nothing."