Three words. And I quote: Gay. Sadistic. Bloggers.
via Gawker
P.S. - please read "the Real JR"'s comment in full. you'll thank me.
March 13, 2007
March 5, 2007
I so relate...
Basically I'm complicated
I have a hard time taking the easy way
I wouldn't call it schizophrenia
But I'll be at least 2 people today
If that's okay
And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?
It's deep how you can be so shallow
And I'm afraid cause I have no fear
And I didn't believe in magic
Until I watched you disappear
I wish you were here
And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?
You see, everybody is somebody
But nobody wants to be themselves
and If I ever wanted to understand me
I'll have to talk to someone else
Cause every little bit helps
And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?
~ "Who Cares?", Gnarls Barkley
I have a hard time taking the easy way
I wouldn't call it schizophrenia
But I'll be at least 2 people today
If that's okay
And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?
It's deep how you can be so shallow
And I'm afraid cause I have no fear
And I didn't believe in magic
Until I watched you disappear
I wish you were here
And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?
You see, everybody is somebody
But nobody wants to be themselves
and If I ever wanted to understand me
I'll have to talk to someone else
Cause every little bit helps
And I can go on and on and on... but who cares?
~ "Who Cares?", Gnarls Barkley
Jesus viewed my friendster profile
touch is such a blessing. it really only hit home this weekend (i'm late to the party again, perhaps). another's physical presence can be such a comfort, yet i only realized it in its absence. i swear to myself that next time...NEXT time...i will be aware; i will appreciate; i will wallow in the experience of touching and being touched.
February 13, 2007
November 17, 2006
Reach out and touch someone....else
"Scholars have found that Americans, conquerors of the wild frontier, generally prefer more personal space than people in Mediterranean and Latin American cultures, and more than men in Arab countries.
“In the U.S., it’s very closely linked to ideals of individuals,” said Kathryn Sorrells, an associate professor of communication studies at California State University, Northridge, who is writing a book, “Globalizing Intercultural Communications.” “There’s an idea that you have the right to this space,” she said, noting that it was born of a culture that prizes independence, privacy and capitalism.
Dr. Archer tells of a Brazilian man he interviewed who, when speaking to the American waiters with whom he worked, used to casually touch them for emphasis. The man’s overtures of friendship toward his co-workers were always rejected and he wanted to know why. So when business was slow he observed how the Americans interacted. And eventually he arrived at this conclusion: Americans hate to be touched."
NYT, Fashion & Style Section - November 16, 2006
“In the U.S., it’s very closely linked to ideals of individuals,” said Kathryn Sorrells, an associate professor of communication studies at California State University, Northridge, who is writing a book, “Globalizing Intercultural Communications.” “There’s an idea that you have the right to this space,” she said, noting that it was born of a culture that prizes independence, privacy and capitalism.
Dr. Archer tells of a Brazilian man he interviewed who, when speaking to the American waiters with whom he worked, used to casually touch them for emphasis. The man’s overtures of friendship toward his co-workers were always rejected and he wanted to know why. So when business was slow he observed how the Americans interacted. And eventually he arrived at this conclusion: Americans hate to be touched."
NYT, Fashion & Style Section - November 16, 2006
November 16, 2006
November 7, 2006
Political Activism I Can Get Behind
Speaking of voting, I'd like to call a vote to require more visually "compelling" political protests in the future. Prime example:
October 30, 2006
Pre-emptive
i mumble because i'm afraid to commit to an idea, emotion or thought.
i fumble my words so i can say, "you're not getting what i'm saying.".
i fumble my words so i can say, "you're not getting what i'm saying.".
October 17, 2006
when i grow up...
i think i'm finally taking responsibility for my spending habits and, by extension, the resultant financial crises i've experienced (am experiencing).
maybe i'm an adult now.
last night i consciously skipped going to the gym as a symbolic act underlining my commitment to put my financial well-being (or just-alright-being) first as my number one priority and prime consumer of all my energy.
if only i'd tripped over a million bucks.
instead, i went to taco bell (budget-conscious) and carried it home with me to fuel an evening of work trying to find small or part-time gigs that would bring in some more money.
as i ate my beef meximelt on the train ride home (didn't want it to get cold), i felt acutely aware of my fellow riders' reactions. from the amount of attention they were paying me, i think the smell must have been pretty strong. at one point, i wanted to turn to the girl next to me who kept staring at me pointedly and say, "you wanna pay my bills? ok, then stop making that face at the only meal i could afford!".
i felt so underprivileged and impoverished.
and then i got home, opened my brand new macbook pro (17", baby!) and propped myself up on my luxe queen-size sleigh bed to write my latest whiny blog entry.
"...SO-o-meday...things are gonna get easier...SOo-meday, things'll be bri-i-ighter..."
maybe i'm an adult now.
last night i consciously skipped going to the gym as a symbolic act underlining my commitment to put my financial well-being (or just-alright-being) first as my number one priority and prime consumer of all my energy.
if only i'd tripped over a million bucks.
instead, i went to taco bell (budget-conscious) and carried it home with me to fuel an evening of work trying to find small or part-time gigs that would bring in some more money.
as i ate my beef meximelt on the train ride home (didn't want it to get cold), i felt acutely aware of my fellow riders' reactions. from the amount of attention they were paying me, i think the smell must have been pretty strong. at one point, i wanted to turn to the girl next to me who kept staring at me pointedly and say, "you wanna pay my bills? ok, then stop making that face at the only meal i could afford!".
i felt so underprivileged and impoverished.
and then i got home, opened my brand new macbook pro (17", baby!) and propped myself up on my luxe queen-size sleigh bed to write my latest whiny blog entry.
"...SO-o-meday...things are gonna get easier...SOo-meday, things'll be bri-i-ighter..."
...i forgot "confessional"
sure, some will accuse us of playing semantics games here...and i think you'll have to agree the lines between memoir, diary and confessional aren't that sharply drawn...especially in the blogosphere...
but nevertheless...witness my stab at differentiation below.
confessional:
i'm an a__hole. it's decided. i passed my test yesterday and acted EVER so much the ingrate to my ex-.
wunderbar. it's everything i ever dreamed!
ugh.
memoir:
i'm checking out. i'm distancing myself from my world at large for a time.
i can feel a change occurring in my way of seeing things; of reacting; of reasoning through and resolving issues that arise, even! every thought is heavily portentous, it seems -- even more than usual!! (heavy)
diary:
what's going on in my mind? why do i spend money i don't have now, against what i will (inevitably) earn in the near future without even a clear idea of what i might be doing to earn it? what gives me the idea i'm about to "come into money" and can therefore continue to live like i'm flush with cash, when the truth is it's monday, i don't get paid 'til friday, and i have $20 in the bank to last the rest of the week? what makes me think i'm in the same league as all the friends and acquaintances and people i see around town who have already made their fortune, when i don't even have a good idea - much less any sort of plan to tap its potential - of what i'll do for mine?
so there you have it, folks! three types of blog entry...and one jaded, hapless son-of-a-b---h with delusions of grandeur.
but nevertheless...witness my stab at differentiation below.
confessional:
i'm an a__hole. it's decided. i passed my test yesterday and acted EVER so much the ingrate to my ex-.
wunderbar. it's everything i ever dreamed!
ugh.
memoir:
i'm checking out. i'm distancing myself from my world at large for a time.
i can feel a change occurring in my way of seeing things; of reacting; of reasoning through and resolving issues that arise, even! every thought is heavily portentous, it seems -- even more than usual!! (heavy)
diary:
what's going on in my mind? why do i spend money i don't have now, against what i will (inevitably) earn in the near future without even a clear idea of what i might be doing to earn it? what gives me the idea i'm about to "come into money" and can therefore continue to live like i'm flush with cash, when the truth is it's monday, i don't get paid 'til friday, and i have $20 in the bank to last the rest of the week? what makes me think i'm in the same league as all the friends and acquaintances and people i see around town who have already made their fortune, when i don't even have a good idea - much less any sort of plan to tap its potential - of what i'll do for mine?
so there you have it, folks! three types of blog entry...and one jaded, hapless son-of-a-b---h with delusions of grandeur.
June 3, 2005
greetings and salutations people
no preramble...just jump right in:
blog: diary or memoir?
i'm hoping for memoir, albeit humble.
it's friday kids. i'm still at work so let's keep this short, shall we?
ashes and snow is leaving this weekend.
a friend's sister is in town and we're showing her the friday N.Y.ghtlife.
david morales is playing at crobar tomorrow night and my buddy from amsterdam is taking us, v.i.p. style.
sunday's supposed to be nice. keeping my fingers crossed cuz i want to play tennis. not to mention drink too much and wander around queens all afternoon (hell-oOOoo!).
those are the broad strokes. watch this page for the details.
have a great first weekend of june!
...people.
blog: diary or memoir?
i'm hoping for memoir, albeit humble.
it's friday kids. i'm still at work so let's keep this short, shall we?
ashes and snow is leaving this weekend.
a friend's sister is in town and we're showing her the friday N.Y.ghtlife.
david morales is playing at crobar tomorrow night and my buddy from amsterdam is taking us, v.i.p. style.
sunday's supposed to be nice. keeping my fingers crossed cuz i want to play tennis. not to mention drink too much and wander around queens all afternoon (hell-oOOoo!).
those are the broad strokes. watch this page for the details.
have a great first weekend of june!
...people.
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