Talking to a guy at hipstery dance club, I let loose my theories on how and why DJs are bullshit. Thats when he mentions he is one of the house DJs.
how do I manage to repeatedly do this.
So calling bullshit on DJs is nothing groundbreaking. But later I got to thinking about how they are necessary as icons in the religion of cool. Exclusion is like tenet number one in the religion of cool, and DJs are all over that
I was about 5 gins deep when I was thinking about this, so I thought I was fucking brilliant.
oh and then there was the laaaaame hipster whose loft we ended up at. After legitimizing himself by bringing up 'indie classic' bands and some obscure but totally irrelevant tidbits on them, the height of his ceilings (14ft), his well paying job and desire to switch into something more "meaningful" ... he brings up his friend who has a degree in philosophy and policy analysis. Dude found him really intense to hang out with because this degree apparently gives the guy a handle on the entire structure of knowledge. loosely quoted:
"its like, he knows the policies on thought AND legal, real stuff"
So guy was a little stupid, and a lot desperate to belong to something. My distain turned to pity when I found out he was not 22 (the max. age at which those things are maybe still a little understandable) but 28 (oh buddy).
Oh but the evening really was great, dancing was done, fun was had.
so I ran into this guy from the past, for the second time in as many days. Dude would make life a whole lot more comfortable if he figured out that, like his feelings for me, I am NOT into him.
So in the interest of having a more effective personal filter, I didn't say that (him being with a girl solidified that decision) ... but I want to know for the next time I run into him (which I will. good lord you can't disappear in Vic)... would it be lame to just lay it out there? "hey man, just so you know, I don't have a thing for you, so let's move on". I could see that making things much worse, but right now it seems like a good idea
there is still a mark from the steam burn.
Im painting a design in my mom's built in shrine area- its a hutch type thing, partially framed off with driftwood. I hope it doesn't turn out like crap, and I hope that my painting and art isn't/won't be forever limited to the "good enough for parents to hang on the wall" quality level.
She put a couple of my Fat Lady watercolours on her wall- their lameness embarrasses me.
Just need to keep working, keep improving
the scene:this morning, making coffee, sans bra
I leaned over the pot in which my mom was steaming her christmas pudding, and I got a steam burn ON MY NIPPLE
fucking ow
spellcheck says hippy isn't a word. Is that when you know a movement is over?
4 comments Posted by Chlo at 10:39 AMSo last night I went to a winter solstice party. Good times, a lot of familiar faces from waaay back.
Erica dared me to smell the random teacup of yellow liquid on the ground. For her- anything to be cool. luckily it was only whiskey.
SO some drunk guy tripped over the 'garbage corner' and to save face, kept kicking it about. lame. Then some girl actually says: "WOAH, are you an anarchist or just a fool?!"
Her and I would later have what I would describe as the worlds most awkward party conversation... and it WASNT my doing. it was all her man! woo!
OH! some guy who heard this anarchist remark started saying things in a stodgy voice " Oh, well I am a right wing 'keep it as it is-ist' I like the old guard". which I found really ridiculous until I realized that the layer of sarcasm was actually two deep, and he was making fun of us (the liberal hippy set of which I cannot extract myself) making fun of conservatives. So then it was funny- that is, I approved.
God I love hanging out with Erica. She is terribly funny and she laughs when I am trying to be funny. Also, she knows how to down a beer. Usually I have to constantly slow down my beer drinking pace so I'm not drinking 80% of the pitcher. Not so with Erica. and she errs on the side of another. good call.
On a much more horrible note, we saw a fight break out (which I am ashamed to say I initially wooped and hollered at) which ended in one of the guys lying unconcious in the middle of the street. It was horrifying.
moving on.
I still have this paper to finish- due tomorrow. fuck man, this is supposed to be a work free time
why oh why did I leave the house? Every minute I delay my return is another increment of horror added to my walk home.
And I am way too selfish to go bring a coffee to my Kazak hot dog stand man, on this, Kazakhstan National Independence Day. It would mean and extra block of walking. An extra block is a world away. I can't even see that far.
What a miserable day to be in a hot dog stand.
shit
From the Environment Canada website:
" Copious amounts of snow as well as strong winds causing blowing snow are expected. Freezing rain is also possible [...] Ice pellets are also quite possible."
From the Environment Canada website:
" Copious amounts of snow as well as strong winds causing blowing snow are expected. Freezing rain is also possible [...] Ice pellets are also quite possible."
"A near-crippling snow storm"
The use of the word copious is like the infamous time I got the doctors note that described my food poisoning induced diarrhea as "violent"; sure its true, but isn't that rubbing salt in the wounds, just a little?
So the most enigmatic roommate at my new place keeps getting packages in the mail of varying sizes, shapes and weights. They are always labeled "socks" for the international post thing, but they are most definitely not socks.
hmm. I prefer not to ask, as the answer to what they are is sure to be much duller than the scenarios I have conjured up.
Last night in a discussion on something completely different, I somehow wrote off NASA as a waste in less than one sentence. Not 5 minutes later, I ask my friend what his parents do for a living. OH, a rocket scientist for NASA you say? Life is a path that takes me from one awkward moment to another.
Sure, the only constant is change, but a few things manage to remain the same-
vitamins are always best swallowed with a gulp of beer or wine
Dylan is always best listened to alone
I am mystified and horrified at how incredibly social awkward I can be at moments.
The other day I saw an acquaintance at a party, where I accidentally interrupted his flirting with a girl to blab about nothing. no big deal. Ok, he is also my neighbour, and last night I saw him sitting on his porch, with possibly the same girl. Even though I KNOW I know it, I hesitated a second on his name (fuck all y'alls who have two first-name names). I stopped in my tracks, and said:
"Hey...how you doing?"
he stopped he talking to the girl, gave a polite nod and quiet hey.
Me: "I pass by here on my way home and I always look in your window. I often see you sitting on your bed, reading."
he doesn't care, but he is a sweet guy. mumbles an "oh" or "yeah" or "hmm"
I sense its time to leave, so what do I say?
"ok, well, see ya. I guess I'll continue spying on you".
pretty much silence on their end.
I immediately mumble "sorry" sorry for interrupting. sorry for the horrible attempt at polite conversation gone wrong.
The 'sorry' as I walked off was probably the height of the awkwardness, but lucky me also got to stand on my porch, three doors down and spend two minutes fumbling for my keys, while we all pretended I wasn't there. Them waiting to be able to give each other a look and say "what the fuck was that"
I hope this conveys how truly uncomfortable the whole thing was.
Sometimes, my dad used to drive me to school on his motorcycle. I felt like hot shit carrying that helmet around, hooking on my coat hook (what the fuck are those hallrooms for coats called again??). To store the helmet, he later he added a milk crate attached by bungee cords to the back of the bike. less cool
Got drunk last night. Not the best of ideas. study study study today. Slowly though, as everything is a little off kilter, a little queasy and drained. Or maybe its just me. miserable.
Overheard on Campus:
Guy: I don't want to go to a club, I want to go to a pub
Girl: I want to go to a club, I want to go dancing.
Girl: I love dancing
Guy: unsure look
Girl: It's IN my facebook profile!
erica!! This is the only way I can think of getting in touch with you! quit facebook?!? as;3gjh
So I got your email, and I immediately replied, only to have a nasty replying from Hotmail saying that delivery failed PERMANENTLY. AHHHH
"A block has been placed against your IP address because we have received complaints concerning mail coming from that IP address."
oh no!
ohhh. it might be because I am using campus internet. I will try when I get home (hours away)
«Pressures Produced When Penguins Poo -- Calculations on Avian Defecation»
2 comments Posted by Chlo at 3:47 PM
This is a real scientific paper. hehe. poo
Consider this one point for the Racoon side in my ongoing battle of who is more awesome:
Skunks or Racoons.
I'm not ageist (yes I am- just seeing old people frequently gives me a horrible depressive sinking feeling) but I think a good indicator for when it is time to stop wearing "shimmer" is when you have to start dealing with it clumping up in your crows feet. Dig?
Flavoured coffees (Hazelnut, French Vanilla etc) are the Zinfandel of the coffee world
Keeping your zoomers and your pens in the same case yields a high possibility for uncomfortable moments, particularly if you use said pens for a midterm. I'd venture that this applies for final exams too.
shiiit son, I found that guy I have been talking about for years! The one who built his own island! It is even more interesting than I remember! This clip is from 1999- The Ripleys Believe it or Not TV, and though I thought I heard of this guy before then... maybe not.
But Ripleys. Oh Dean Cain. What can I say about you that hasnt already been said or implied about Billy Crystal (and then adjusted to about 2 degrees lamer)
It is too bad about the horrible writing and editing of this show (please no more rapid cuts to emphasize how "X-treme" it is). Actually, now that I think about it, most of the stories were pretty inane too. We have internet memes to take care of that niche now.
I used to love the Ripley's books.
I am a little uncomfortable about the possibility that the TV version, complete with Dean Cain, was a key player in one of my landmark life moments. I'll get over it. I'll just think of how awesome Island guy is.
PS- I know what can be said about Dean Cain- According to his IMDB page, he was in an episode of "Wild on..." ahaha, I would pay up to 5$ to see that episode.
So the house party I went to last night turned out to be awesome. Low expectations can make for pleasant surprises.
-I ran into the girl who can't smell! YES! I had so many questions for her. Too bad she didnt arrive until AFTER the Biggest Hit Ever- complete with a rare coughing fit. I suspect only I care about her answers to my questions. moving on
-There was this hilarious guy that literally only spoke in zingers. Some girl (possibly his gf?) who lived there, went on facebook at one point. His reaction- "You are social networking at a party?! how about opening your mouth and talking! theres a social network!" ok, maybe you had to be there and be baked.
-Some guy that I see on campus quite frequently but never talk to was there. He was wearing THE outfit- when he wears it, he is the fucking spitting image of Billy Crystal with a beard circa 1989ish. Curly hair, scruffy beard. Plaid button up shirt. Tan Linen jacket, stiff jeans.
So I had that moment that I always have, where I am on the edge of saying something, and where most people would be have their personal filter tell them" do not proceed, high risk of offending", my personal filter goes "proceed, they will totally get what you are trying to say"
and I did proceed. I told him how exactly he looked like Billy Crystal. He was a little (a lot) taken aback. He said "honestly, I don't know how to take that". After telling him I wasn't sure either, I realized that if I had any hope of making this a pleasant talk rather than an horribly awkward moment, it had to be Billy Crystal in a good way. And frankly, I think it was. I told him (and I mean it), his look made me reconsider Billy Crystal. Billy Crystal redux.
Guy was a sport, well versed in social graces, and went along with it. He buried his creeped out, slightly offended reaction beneath an affable, light hearted banter, which I think he at least partially meant. Good for him, cause there is no pretending we don't know each other when we cross paths on campus.
Again, this was after "Biggest Hit Ever". I think.
Unrelated: I recently decided once and for all that I definitely have an abnormally strong sense of smell. S. (not that S) said that this was a blessing and a curse, but in the spirit of complaining about all things, I find it mostly to be a curse.
On the other hand, a few weeks ago I met a girl that had no sense of smell! she claimed to be able to taste just fine, but who knows what her sense of taste is compared to the average person. I have never met someone like this- she simply has never been able to smell! I'd rather not have that.
pros: never have to smell farts and poops, or basically anything bad. burned the popcorn? meh. toss in another bag, forget about the horrid smell that will linger for hours. I would never have had to sandbag the bottom of my door while my mom was cooking the turkey neck from christmas dinner. I swear the smell went STRAIGHT to my room and just sat there.
cons: never get to smell your own brand! never know if you have bad breath or b.o. and here is a biggie: what about those really basal associations we have with scent? you know when you smell a perfume, or mix of odours, and it just takes you back, so immediately to another time and place, and all the feelings associated with it. Oh man, none of that?
buuut....I would find my new place a lot more tolerable. but how would I ever know if the last third of my soy milk is still good. I wouldn't!! wow, I would have so little control.
not realizing you stepped in dog shit- pro or con?
