hi there.

so...when you "grow up"? do people stop giving you advice? and what i mean is...when do i get to speak my mind?

or does it just get to a point where you say, "Whatever." ?

When we were kids, it used to get pointed out a lot that saying "whatever" was pretty rude. It was the equivalent of insolence + ignorance + apathy. And sometimes our impulses and dreams and desires were walked upon enough for us to just...give up.

today, came close to hitting a wall.

hit the wall while clutching a rope too short to climb over. feeling that no matter what, the decisions made will lead again, to a state of futility and utter failure. that's been my experience with a lot of things. dating. career. friendships. spirituality. for some reason, just not making the right decision. not having the right guidance. trusting an instinct twisted by a psychology that is fought against every day, but that has a way of weaseling its way back into every choice.

stopped giving a crap about what anyone thinks. really.

get out of my space. let me have my opinions and my own mind. i certainly let you have yours.

whatever.

rough...

It has been a rough week for the peeps at work.

Some good people had to say goodbye. For reasons that will all work themselves out universally. While hard to not work in fear, the right converations have come up around me to let me know that the time to keep working, it's there. Harder still, is the difficulty in not going into Mama Bear mode; to resist gathering my arms around the people left I have come to care about in the small space of a year, bare my claws and say, "No more!"

Came home tonight to the roomies watching '2012'; the ending is notably predicable. (Of course he lives, he's muthafucking JOHN.CUSACK!!) But have we come to this? Being too afraid to care for others for the time when they will leave us alone? Look at the state of the world in the last year; huge earthquakes, the oil spill in the gulf, tsunamis, hunger, starvation. Humanity is crying out after years and years of selfishness. That time is over. Are you hearing me? DONE.

I will never count myself as a sucker for caring for others. NEVER. Even when hurt, shamed, guilted or neglected. The part of me that cares for others is the part of my humanity that cannot be denied. This is part of a letter that I wrote to my co-workers last year when I was laid off.

Thank you for always pushing me to do more. Thank you for encouraging and being interested in my outside activities as well as the ones at work. Thank you for sponsoring/supporting my interests in both LEED and AIA, and continuing to believe that the more educated and informed the employee, the better the business. Thank you for not being so much bosses as friends and mentors. Thank you for creating an environment based on cooperation instead of competition. Thank you for having a staff of dedicated, fun, talented and friendly individuals that made it a joy to wake up at 6 and travel 40 miles away from home every day for.

Without sounding condescending, I hope that you all remember to be kind to one another. To listen and appreciate each other. To keep an eye to the future and on the team. To look for doors, 6'0" openings and windows instead of hitting walls. To be open and understanding when you could judge, and light and bright when you could be gloomy. Leave it Nickelback to make some inappropriate joke and you're well on your way.

There is so much respect and good feelings I have for all of you. It has been an honor to call you co-workers. To a great 2009, for you and your families.

Thank you.

Getting over it?

Sometimes I think technology has a way of fucking up your perception. And exactly why should I care?

Because this woman I work with just declared herself the "Admin Czarina" of my office on 4Square. I know this means nothing to me really....

But until she:

a) Orders pizza for 50
b) Files a month's worth of bills
c) Receives packages
d) Gets the mail and distributes it
e) Makes flight and hotel reservations
f) Administers voice mail messages
g) Enters the taxes/bills/invoices
h) Does collections
i) Orders food and other sundry supplies
j) Deals with janitorial and building maintenance
k) Keeps the engineers in line
l) Updates contact lists
m) Does monthly reconciliations and revenue updates
o) Does weekly revenue spreadsheets

She has no fucking business calling herself the Administrative Czarina of anything.

What fun is it being cool if you can't wear a sombrero?

I still walk through my life sometimes trying, desperately, to seem cool. This goes for everything from my opinions on politics (left leaning) to child rearing (I'll tell them about sex and pot and drugs and steer them towards what I think are the right decisions) to ideas on dating (yeah, it's cool not to see each other every day) to music.

Music is one of my biggest hang ups. It's not that I think my taste is horrible, I just don't think I've been exposed to very much that could be considered "cool". Like my book collection; I just listen to what I like. Most of the time that happens to be musical theater or funk or classical vocalists. I also quite like movie/tv soundtracks, yes, I do like to pretend on my walk to work that a) cute guys are watching me, b) my exes are watching me and pining plaintively and lastly c) the other people watching me are thinking, "Damn that chick is cool/cute/awesome." (yeah, whatever, I'll totally admit to my ego trip) There's only so much breathy, acoustic shit I can take before I feel like I want to cut my bangs and become a hipster vegetarian (bleccchhh). Music is a mood shifter for me and often I want to get myself out of that self-indulgent, self-pitying depression state so I'll listen to things that are light, pop-y and fun. Dance music is a huge guilty pleasure for me, it lifts my mood and gives me a natural gait and strut.

It's gotten to the point where I'm looking to my co-workers, friends and loved ones to tell me what to listen to. One of them gave me friggin' hypno trance surf rock. Think Beach Boys on LSD. Another wasn't too bad and referenced Labi Siffre. The 'Stache put this shit (oh for fuck's sake, they're Canadian?) on my Pandora and I'm still trying to figure out if it's poseur stuff or not. Personally, I prefer this:

Robyn - Hang With Me official video from Robyn on Vimeo.

I know right? Sappy. Auto-tuned. Groovy. And I would rather listen to this than Mahler's 4th any day. (to be fair, I'm not even quite sure what Maher's 4th sounds like)

So recently, songwriter and musician Matthew Friedberger of the Fiery Furnaces was interviewed saying this:

Music is still a “prestige” item. The music you like is now more important for first impressions both for the way you’re formulating yourself and the way you interact with people. Music is still educating people about whether they’re cool or not. Now people have more anxiety about this stuff, about status and the music they like. There’s more anxiety related to it than to some of their other consumer or lifestyle choices.

Now, isn't that telling? And honestly, don't you sort of freeze up when someone asks you what sort of music you listen to and don't you sort of feel like a douche when you can't say what the last concert you went to was? I'll be completely honest, the last rock concert I went to - I'm pretty sure, was Keane at the Fox Theater last year. And it was because the Blade had an extra ticket. I rarely, if ever, voluntarily purchase tickets to see shows. I like making music more than I enjoy seeing it. Friends who are in shows don't count. These people are friends. Outside Lands, Coachella, Lollapolooza, etc...seem just like a bunch of trouble. Drunk assholes getting in your space, overpriced foods and merch, and bathroom lines out the door - these all spell uncomfortable and an unpleasant experience for me. Stern Grove is negotiable, but there are your fair share of obnoxious people everywhere. This may make me seem like a hermit is true, but personally - the human condition, while fascinating to observe, often gets too close to my comfort zone for me.

Maybe music is just one of those things that defines us. But who is to say what is cool and what is not. Can we like different types of music for the same reasons? Such as can a song by the Beatles and a song by the Roots and a song by Daft Punk give different people the same exact feeling depending on their personal nature? Can a person who listens to some independently produced and distributed no-name band be as interested in Miley Cyrus? Or are those two artists so far separated by socio-cultural status that they remain mutually exclusive in a listener's mind?

Friedberger goes on to say this (which rocks my world):

It goes out there in the world and you have no control over it, and you have to keep that in mind. That’s the way it is with any artifact, I suppose, but that’s more explicitly the case when it comes to art, mass-produced art. I think Glenn Gould said something like, “Recording is a mix of the autocratic and the democratic.” I get to do whatever I want making the record—I get to manipulate it and strangle it and do whatever I like to it—and then it goes out there and people listen to it in circumstances or in ways that I have no control over and that I can’t fathom. That’s the way it works. But for people to put it to their own ends, you can’t just give them an empty vessel or a blank canvas. It needs to be full of your marks and of your intentions for it to be anything that they’re going to be able to manipulate to their ends.

So you know what? We are all free to feel however we want about the music that we listen to. And if it feeds our souls, who are we to feel negative about our choices. Yeah...that's cool.

"Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. there is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there."

Henry Miller

On a side note: How to Care for Your Introvert - this is interesting, sometimes I feel like an asshole in social situations. I don't know what to do or say at parties where I don't know anyone. I just can't. I'm totally serious. I can't do small talk or feign interest in people that I think I'm never going to see again. The only way I can adjust at a party where I don't know anyone is for some kind soul to take me under their wing. At a party where I don't know anyone, you'll always be able to find me in a room, petting a cat. This has happened more times than I care to mention. Alone. In a room. Petting a cat. This is my level of comfort people. Does it surprise anyone that the article mentions that many actors actually are or feel like introverts when not on stage? Yeahhh...

on music...

Sent at 4:36 PM on Monday
tonylee415: btw, i thought about the answer i gave you yesterday
about the song and personality
me: oh?
tonylee415: yeah
me: did you change your mind?
tonylee415: yeah i think i did
me: ok
tonylee415: i think any song has to have some personality
whether or not it's communicated
me: so...maybe I'll just write a blog post later
but I have two versions of Copeland's "Rodeo"
one conducted by Bernstein
and another by Michael Tilson Thomas
and the one by MTT literally...made me want to laugh yesterday
I hope this doesn't sound like I'm on crack
tonylee415: no, i'm following
me: the most marked difference between the two is the MTT one is faster
so you have to sort of make your listening brain/ear keep up with the pace of the music
tonylee415: ok
me: but all the little bits are punctuated in a way that make you think they're saying something
and each bit of the song has a personality
and it makes the song so much more fun
(I can't believe it's the "Beef: it's what's for dinner" song)
but that's what a good conductor does
takes apart and reassembles music so that each bit is infused with the musical capacity and fullness that it has the ability to be
tonylee415: ic
me: and each one will interpret it differently
tonylee415: ok
me: MTT"s version is way "punchier" than Bernsteins
I dunno...so that's what I was thinking
tonylee415: right on
sure i buy that
me: like music...can be this really cool thing where each piece of it can be something else
like someone saying something
tonylee415: i think what i was talking about was more of an existential issue
lol
me: oh I know
tonylee415: sure, why not?
like covers
me: but that's what I was talking about
tonylee415: some ppl stick to the original stuff
some ppl put their own spin on it
me: yes
the Rayees did this remix of a Robyn song
tonylee415: there's that hard rock version of billy jean
like acoustic hardrock
me: oh yeah
the ataris
tonylee415: i think so?
i can't remember
me: I like covers
I like it when someone else reinterprets something I"m already familiar with

Why you can't date anyone younger than 30, Penny.

Normally reading Mission Mission makes me cringe because it represents the worst of Hipster Nation that prevails in my fine city, but I actually agreed with today's dating critique:

We’re going to end this week’s examination of dating and friendship and flakiness in San Francisco and California with this sober rap by reader Al:

Here’s my theory, (note: huge generalizations will be made): Our grandparents grew up during the Great Depression thus rearing their children (our parents) to value hard work, decorum, conservatism. As a result we have the buttoned up, squeaky clean 50′s and then the revolt of the free lovin 60′s. Unsure of how to raise us, our parents padded our cribs, fed us on formula of “you can be whatever you want to be” “everyone should go to college” “be an astronaut, honey” “be a ballerina” and it’s left us, as a generation, completely floundering. We can’t make decisions period. About career paths. “Let’s all be designers!” or what the fuck to eat. We’re all looking for the bigger, better, EASIER, next thing. This includes again jobs, lovers, friends, weekend plans. We like to keep all options open, hoping that someday our shot at “space” or “prima ballerina” will fall effortlessly in our lap.

Touche MissMiss....you spoke it to a tee.

24 hours of lucidity

Finally watched 'Inception' last night with some work friends. And, let me throw in this disclaimer, as a person who works for a movie company...I don't watch a lot of movies. In fact, to be perfectly honest, no one here watches a lot of movies. And while the film was enormous in scope and full of lush cinematography and some incredible special effects, I didn't love it.

There were a lot of interesting concepts though, that make me think more and more. It's much better fleshed out than the Matrix; where the mind creates what it wants to create. Inception takes the power of the mind and turns it inward - where everything is almost what you expect with only subtle hints to let you know you're dreaming. But much like dreams, where you become the watcher - so much of this movie did not hook me emotionally. Every moment, because the actors did not feel any fear of death and love was a mere shadow of emotion tainted by the illusion of dream creation; nothing truly engaged me. Not even the tears of Leo's wife. If Nolan's vision was truly to create a dream like world, he succeeded. Visually stunning, emotionally cold and bereft of feeling.

But early this morning, after waking up and falling back asleep at 3am - I had a very lucid dream about swimming. I've been gaining a bit too much weight for my comfort lately. Spending a lot of time at home and eating too many bad things.

I need soba salad, with tofu and greens. I need less fried and more steamed. More fish and veg...less cheese and butter. And I need a workout. My knees have started to give on me a bit, darn these hills. So swimming has always been an amazing aerobic workout that is low impact. And I used to swim all summer, all the time. And if I go in the morning and don't give a shit about who is there and what I look like...well.

I dreamt the smell of cholorine. I dreamt driving into the parking lot where the nearest pool is. I dreamed waking up at 7am to get to the pool to do laps, showering and getting into work with wet hair. I dreamed my first day...only doing maybe three laps and getting too exhausted to do more. I dreamt about tucking my hair into an aqua swim cap. Of icy cold water like a slap on the rear and humid sweated air tinged with the echos of tiled slaps of wet feet...

7 day free pass?