for some orange juice and you have a carton but no clean glasses but then you realize "Wait, this is MY orange juice that isn't being shared with anyone else, who needs glasses!" and drink straight from the carton.
Fuck yeah.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Brain Dump.4.1
I forgot to mention:
Peanut butter-jelly-frozen banana sandwich: SO FUCKING DELICIOUS. It's like eating a regular pbj but it's got BANANA ICE CREAM inside!
Note: While I realize frozen peanut butter jelly and banana sandwich might sound like the logical choice of title, it implies the entire sandwich is frozen. Here, only the banana is frozen.
...also, don't ask how I came up with that idea. But try it. It's good.
Actually, frozen bananas are already tasty. But peeling them is such a bitch.
Peanut butter-jelly-frozen banana sandwich: SO FUCKING DELICIOUS. It's like eating a regular pbj but it's got BANANA ICE CREAM inside!
Note: While I realize frozen peanut butter jelly and banana sandwich might sound like the logical choice of title, it implies the entire sandwich is frozen. Here, only the banana is frozen.
...also, don't ask how I came up with that idea. But try it. It's good.
Actually, frozen bananas are already tasty. But peeling them is such a bitch.
Brain Dump.4
So I as I burn these photographs
I wonder if you've kept the ones you have
Keep 'em locked up somewhere safe
'Cause it's the only place you'll see my face
~Maroon 5
^Why, yes, thank you for asking, I'm still obsessed with this song. lol u jelly bro?
>>For a while now I've kinda believed I've associated better with and am more comfortable conversing with girls rather than guys. No idea why. But the downside of this? Girl drama. Yowzers.
I wonder if you've kept the ones you have
Keep 'em locked up somewhere safe
'Cause it's the only place you'll see my face
~Maroon 5
^Why, yes, thank you for asking, I'm still obsessed with this song. lol u jelly bro?
>>For a while now I've kinda believed I've associated better with and am more comfortable conversing with girls rather than guys. No idea why. But the downside of this? Girl drama. Yowzers.
>>I watched Flipped (2010) and Love and Other Drugs (2010).
Flipped
So this was highly recommended by my sister, enthused as she was for it's AWWW factor. I have to say, this movie is pretty darn AWWW indeed. Basically, it's a boy-meets-girl story. Set in the late 50s/early 60s. Based on the novel of the same title. The boy and girl first meet while they're in 2nd grade, when he and his family first move into town, and the story progresses as they get older into junior high.
But what's really neat is that it takes turns between the boy and the girl's point of view, or the POVs are "flipped," as the title implies. There would be a sequence in the story, and we see and hear the narrative from the boy, then at a certain point, we go back, and get to see the girl's side of the event. Pretty neat. I'm a sucker for stories that take multiple POVs.
This movie is definitely cute. It reminds me of Little Manhattan (2005). Both of the movies' stories explore the dynamic of young, first loves. Hell, even the tag lines from each movie say that.
Flipped: You never forget your first love.
Little Manhattan: Nothing's as big as your first love.
Interesting.
Love and Other Drugs
Another movie I've been meaning to watch for the longest time now. Why? Anne Hathaway. That's why. Although honestly, I was not expecting boobs. Guess that's what I get for forgetting it had an R-rating. Go figure. Then I've also yet to watch Havoc (2005), which also stars Anne Hathaway.
...don't judge me.
...
Ok! Moving right along:
The premise of this story is actually very K-drama, I thought. Playboy-ish guy meets artsy girl who happens to have a terminal illness. They fall in love anyways. Some hilarity and much drama ensues. See? Totes K-drama plot. But the difference between Hollywood and Korea is that Hollywood gives movies happy endings. If this were K-drama she'd be dead (except, ok, fine, Parkinson's doesn't kill you. I think. Don't quote me.) Gyllenhaal (FUCK why is his name so hard to spell) is a smooth-talkin', hot shit, pharmaceutical rep. Meets Hathaway, who's a artist of some type, affected with early onset Parkinson's disease (because evidently PD usually manifests around 50 years old). Despite his apparent lack of human compassion and her fears of not being cared for because of her disease, they fall in love.
The movie is set in the 90s. To be honest, if it weren't for the technology they were using and the drug names being mentioned/introduced so I can create a timeline in my head, I would've forgotten it was supposed to be set in 1994. I think it's the costumes. They just didn't seem very 90s-esque, to me.
Although I REALLY want the sunglasses Gyllenhaal uses. So BA lookin'.
Also: they never explained what Hathaway's character was going to make with all those photos. And they seemed so important, too! There were numerous shots of her arranging the photos on her table, and various camera motifs. But what was she doing to do? No one knows. Way to go, story writers.
Gyllenhaal's speech at the end to try and win her back, however: DAMN. That shit was SERIOUSLY corny. And cliche. But hey, it's a rom-com, whaddaya expect?
But I did really enjoy this movie (and not just because of Anne Hathaway). I think Gyllenhaal does a great job as Randall. There's good interaction between both actors. But I think a lot of it has to do with the Kdrama-like plot.
>>Freaking anxious about BPG audition results. My friend found out she got in, because she's friends with current dancers and they just told her (because they determine who passes and who doesn't based on voting). So jelly. I wish they'd just post the results and get it over with.
I've been trying to think and understand why I enjoy ballroom so much. The "it's another form of expression" reason is nice and all, but I feel like there's something else to it. Maybe it's a confidence sorta thing. Yeah...because after all, a good lead has to be confident in knowing what he's doing so the follow can...follow. Right. I think one example would be east coast swing. Granted, it's one of the easiest dances, but hey, I've got it, and I love it. It's fun. I can add my own attitude and really get into a good song, now. Woo.
I feel like one reason I'd be voted against joining the group is because I only have one year left here at the university. So putting in effort into training me only to have me stick around for one year and not even reach principal dancer status would be almost pointless/unhelpful to the group. But I REALLY want to learn as much as possible. And I think BPG will help me do just that. I sincerely regret not getting into ballroom much sooner. Funny thing is, my freshman year, I put my name and email down on the ballroom club listserv. And once, I did go to the location where lessons were usually held, but I was a bit early, saw that no one was there, got freaked out / spooked, and left. And ever since then, I've gotten updates on ballroom going ons, but have never attended anything ballroom related. Yeah. But finally, this past February, I saw there was a tango lesson. And I've always wanted to learn tango. So, fuck it, I thought, let's do this. The rest is history.
I think it also helps because I don't feel socially awkward at dances.
Speaking of which:
>>Socially awkward penguin is my FAVORITE. Why? Because I'm usually socially awkward, that's why.
STORY OF MY LIFE (part 2)
Friday, April 22, 2011
M. Butterfly
Lines from M. Butterfly by David Henry Hwang.
I really enjoyed this play. Before, for a while I confused M. Butterfly with Giacomo Puccini's opera of a similar name, Madame Butterfly. Hwang uses the opera as a frame of sorts, an arc, throughout his play. Hwang's title is also devilishly clever, or so I think. The M is for Monsieur, in this case. Don't worry, there's reason for the ambiguous title-play on the opera.
In M. Butterfly, Gallimard works for the French embassy in China during the 1960s. He attends a performance of Madame Butterfly and falls in love with Song, the actor who plays the title character. However, Song is actually a male, and a spy, and uses Gallimard to gain intelligence on French and American going-ons in Vietnam.
Essentially, Hwang seeks to challenge the Western ideal of the mysterious Orient, so to speak, and the notion of Oriental women being submissive to men.
I find Hwang's plays really interesting. Maybe it's because I try to relate to them on some aspect, what with how he heavily writes about Asian-American themes.
----------------
GALLIMARD: Marc, I can't . . . I'm afraid they'll say no - the girls. So I never ask.
(1.4)
GALLIMARD: The sad truth is that all men want a beautiful woman, and the uglier the man, the greater the want.
(1.5)
SONG: It's one of your favorite fantasies, isn't it? The submissive Oriental woman and the cruel white man. Consider it this way: what would you say if a blonde homecoming queen fellin love with a short Japanese businessman? He treats her cruelly, then goes home for three years, during which time she prays to his picture and turns down marriage from a young Kennedy. Then, when she learns he has remarried, she kills herself. Now, I believe you would consider this girl to be a deranged idiot, correct? But because it's an Oriental who kills herself for a Westerner - ah! - you find it beautiful.
(1.6)
MARC: All your life you've waited for a beautiful girl who would lay down for you. All your life you've smiled like a saint when it's happened to every other man you know. And you see them in magazines and you see them in movies. And you wonder, what's wrong with me? Will anyone beautiful ever want me? As the years pass, your hair thins and you struggle to hold onto even your hopes. Stop struggling, Rene (<-Gallimard). The wait is over.
(1.9)
CHIN: Actors, I think they're all weirdos. My mother tells me that actors are like gamblers or prostitutes.
(2.4)
RENEE: I -- I think maybe it's because I really don't know what to do with them -- that's why I call them "weenies."
GALLIMARD: Well, you did quite well with . . . mine.
RENEE: Thanks, but I mean, really do with them. LIke, okay, have you ever looked at one? I mean, really?
GALLIMARD: No, but I suppose when it's part of you, you sort of take it for granted.
RENEE: I guess. But, like, it just hangs there. This little . . . flap of flesh. And there's so much fuss that we make about it. Like, I think the reason we fight wars is because we wear clothes. Because no on knows -- between the men, I mean -- who has the bigger . . . weenie. So, if I'm a guy with a small one, I'm going to build a really big building or take over a really big piece of land or write a really long book so the other men don't know, right? But, see, I never really works, that's the problem. I mean, you conquer the country, or whatever, but you're still wearing clothes, so there's no way to prove absolutely whose is bigger or smaller. And that's what we call civilized society. The whole world run by a bunch of men with pricks the size of pins. (<---If I had to summarize why I like this bit, this would be the quote I pull from this monologue, hah.)
(2.6)
SONG: Miss Chin? Why, in the Peking Opera, are women's roles played by men?
CHIN: I don't know. Maybe, a reactionary remnant of male --
SONG: No. Because only a man knows how a woman is supposed to act.
(2.7)
CHIN: Actor-oppressor, for years you have lived above the common people and looked down on their labor. While the farmer ate millet --
SONG: I ate pastries from France and sweetmeats from silver trays.
CHIN: And how did you come to live in such an exalted position?
SONG: I was a plaything for the imperialists!
CHIN: What did you do?
SONG: I shamed China by allowing myself to be corrupted by a foreigner . . .
CHIN: What does this mean? The People demand a full confession!
SONG: I engaged in the lowest perversions with China's enemies!
CHIN: What perversions? Be more clear!
SONG: I let him put it up my ass!
CHIN: Aaaa-ya! How can you use such sickening language?!
SONG: My language . . . is only as foul as the crimes I committed . . .
CHIN: Yeah. That's better. So -- what do you want to do now?
SONG: I want to serve the people.
CHIN: What?
SONG: I want to serve the people!
CHIN: What?!
SONG: I want to serve the people!!
(2.9)
SONG: Okay, Rule One is: Men always believe what they want to hear. So a girl can tell the most obnoxious lies and the guys will believe them every time -- "This is my first time" -- "That's the biggest I've ever seen" -- or both, which, if you really think about it, is not possible in a single lifetime.
Rule Two: As soon as a Western man comes into contact with the East -- he's already confused. The West has sort of an international rape mentality towards the East. Do you know rape mentality? Basically, "Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes." The West thinks of itself as masculine -- big guns, big industry, big money -- so the East is feminine -- weak, delicate, poor . . . but good at art, and full of inscrutable wisdom -- the feminine mystique. Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes. The West believes the East, deep down, wants to be dominated -- because a woman can't think for herself.
JUDGE: What does this have to do with my question?
SONG: You expect Oriental countries to submit to your guns, and you expect Oriental women to be submissive to your men. That's why you say they make the best wives.
(3.1)
I really enjoyed this play. Before, for a while I confused M. Butterfly with Giacomo Puccini's opera of a similar name, Madame Butterfly. Hwang uses the opera as a frame of sorts, an arc, throughout his play. Hwang's title is also devilishly clever, or so I think. The M is for Monsieur, in this case. Don't worry, there's reason for the ambiguous title-play on the opera.
In M. Butterfly, Gallimard works for the French embassy in China during the 1960s. He attends a performance of Madame Butterfly and falls in love with Song, the actor who plays the title character. However, Song is actually a male, and a spy, and uses Gallimard to gain intelligence on French and American going-ons in Vietnam.
Essentially, Hwang seeks to challenge the Western ideal of the mysterious Orient, so to speak, and the notion of Oriental women being submissive to men.
I find Hwang's plays really interesting. Maybe it's because I try to relate to them on some aspect, what with how he heavily writes about Asian-American themes.
----------------
GALLIMARD: Marc, I can't . . . I'm afraid they'll say no - the girls. So I never ask.
(1.4)
GALLIMARD: The sad truth is that all men want a beautiful woman, and the uglier the man, the greater the want.
(1.5)
SONG: It's one of your favorite fantasies, isn't it? The submissive Oriental woman and the cruel white man. Consider it this way: what would you say if a blonde homecoming queen fellin love with a short Japanese businessman? He treats her cruelly, then goes home for three years, during which time she prays to his picture and turns down marriage from a young Kennedy. Then, when she learns he has remarried, she kills herself. Now, I believe you would consider this girl to be a deranged idiot, correct? But because it's an Oriental who kills herself for a Westerner - ah! - you find it beautiful.
(1.6)
MARC: All your life you've waited for a beautiful girl who would lay down for you. All your life you've smiled like a saint when it's happened to every other man you know. And you see them in magazines and you see them in movies. And you wonder, what's wrong with me? Will anyone beautiful ever want me? As the years pass, your hair thins and you struggle to hold onto even your hopes. Stop struggling, Rene (<-Gallimard). The wait is over.
(1.9)
CHIN: Actors, I think they're all weirdos. My mother tells me that actors are like gamblers or prostitutes.
(2.4)
RENEE: I -- I think maybe it's because I really don't know what to do with them -- that's why I call them "weenies."
GALLIMARD: Well, you did quite well with . . . mine.
RENEE: Thanks, but I mean, really do with them. LIke, okay, have you ever looked at one? I mean, really?
GALLIMARD: No, but I suppose when it's part of you, you sort of take it for granted.
RENEE: I guess. But, like, it just hangs there. This little . . . flap of flesh. And there's so much fuss that we make about it. Like, I think the reason we fight wars is because we wear clothes. Because no on knows -- between the men, I mean -- who has the bigger . . . weenie. So, if I'm a guy with a small one, I'm going to build a really big building or take over a really big piece of land or write a really long book so the other men don't know, right? But, see, I never really works, that's the problem. I mean, you conquer the country, or whatever, but you're still wearing clothes, so there's no way to prove absolutely whose is bigger or smaller. And that's what we call civilized society. The whole world run by a bunch of men with pricks the size of pins. (<---If I had to summarize why I like this bit, this would be the quote I pull from this monologue, hah.)
(2.6)
SONG: Miss Chin? Why, in the Peking Opera, are women's roles played by men?
CHIN: I don't know. Maybe, a reactionary remnant of male --
SONG: No. Because only a man knows how a woman is supposed to act.
(2.7)
CHIN: Actor-oppressor, for years you have lived above the common people and looked down on their labor. While the farmer ate millet --
SONG: I ate pastries from France and sweetmeats from silver trays.
CHIN: And how did you come to live in such an exalted position?
SONG: I was a plaything for the imperialists!
CHIN: What did you do?
SONG: I shamed China by allowing myself to be corrupted by a foreigner . . .
CHIN: What does this mean? The People demand a full confession!
SONG: I engaged in the lowest perversions with China's enemies!
CHIN: What perversions? Be more clear!
SONG: I let him put it up my ass!
CHIN: Aaaa-ya! How can you use such sickening language?!
SONG: My language . . . is only as foul as the crimes I committed . . .
CHIN: Yeah. That's better. So -- what do you want to do now?
SONG: I want to serve the people.
CHIN: What?
SONG: I want to serve the people!
CHIN: What?!
SONG: I want to serve the people!!
(2.9)
SONG: Okay, Rule One is: Men always believe what they want to hear. So a girl can tell the most obnoxious lies and the guys will believe them every time -- "This is my first time" -- "That's the biggest I've ever seen" -- or both, which, if you really think about it, is not possible in a single lifetime.
Rule Two: As soon as a Western man comes into contact with the East -- he's already confused. The West has sort of an international rape mentality towards the East. Do you know rape mentality? Basically, "Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes." The West thinks of itself as masculine -- big guns, big industry, big money -- so the East is feminine -- weak, delicate, poor . . . but good at art, and full of inscrutable wisdom -- the feminine mystique. Her mouth says no, but her eyes say yes. The West believes the East, deep down, wants to be dominated -- because a woman can't think for herself.
JUDGE: What does this have to do with my question?
SONG: You expect Oriental countries to submit to your guns, and you expect Oriental women to be submissive to your men. That's why you say they make the best wives.
(3.1)
Monday, April 18, 2011
Musica
I am in LOVE with this Maroon 5 song.
New favorite M5 song? I think so. This was on the Hands All Over album that was released exclusively on itunes (stupid itunes deluxe album only version *grumblegrumblemuttermutter*) I hadn't listened to it until this past weekend. It is incredible.
And this makes for an excellent cha cha song, if I do say so myself.
Also, the upcoming TV show "The Voice?" Yeah the only reason I want to watch that is because of Adam being a judge in that show. Mmmmhmmm.
So some people can listen to music while studying/doing homework. It's damn near impossible for me to get any kind of school work done if I'm listening to music at the same time. Strangely enough, this really applies the best to work that requires reading and/or writing. If it's math-based/computational work, I can at least tolerate some techno/electronica/house/trance etc while working. But ultimately, if the music's got lyrics, my rate of productivity will be shot.
I wonder why this is. Music as a language of its own, perhaps. I like to think it transcends spoken language. If there's form of communication everyone in the world can understand, it's music.
Sometimes it completely baffles me when someone can't explain why they like a certain song so much. And I'm even more dumbstruck if a person says he doesn't pay attention to the lyrics, just the music. Granted, I think a majority of pop songs these days aren't even written by the singers who perform them, but for other artists out there who do write their own work, so much effort was put into crafting the poetry. It'd be a shame if people didn't acknowledge the lyrics.
Also, ballroom performance group auditions in two days OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.
New favorite M5 song? I think so. This was on the Hands All Over album that was released exclusively on itunes (stupid itunes deluxe album only version *grumblegrumblemuttermutter*) I hadn't listened to it until this past weekend. It is incredible.
And this makes for an excellent cha cha song, if I do say so myself.
Also, the upcoming TV show "The Voice?" Yeah the only reason I want to watch that is because of Adam being a judge in that show. Mmmmhmmm.
So some people can listen to music while studying/doing homework. It's damn near impossible for me to get any kind of school work done if I'm listening to music at the same time. Strangely enough, this really applies the best to work that requires reading and/or writing. If it's math-based/computational work, I can at least tolerate some techno/electronica/house/trance etc while working. But ultimately, if the music's got lyrics, my rate of productivity will be shot.
I wonder why this is. Music as a language of its own, perhaps. I like to think it transcends spoken language. If there's form of communication everyone in the world can understand, it's music.
Sometimes it completely baffles me when someone can't explain why they like a certain song so much. And I'm even more dumbstruck if a person says he doesn't pay attention to the lyrics, just the music. Granted, I think a majority of pop songs these days aren't even written by the singers who perform them, but for other artists out there who do write their own work, so much effort was put into crafting the poetry. It'd be a shame if people didn't acknowledge the lyrics.
Also, ballroom performance group auditions in two days OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.
***and yeah I don't know what's up with the creepy picture of Adam at the end of that youtube video. IT WASN"T ME OK. ******
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
SubUrbia
From SubUrbia, by Eric Bogosian
TIM: Sooze is too good for you, Jeff. That's the problem. A man should never be with a woman whose vocabulary is larger than his.
~Act I, Scene I
JEFF: It used to scare me that I didn't know what was coming in my life. I always thought, what if I make the wrong move? You know? But maybe there isn't any right move. You know I was trying to figure it all out. But maybe you can't. We all dress the same, we all talk the same, we all watch the same TV. No one's really different, even if they think they're different. "Oh boy, look at my tattoo!" You know? And that makes me free, because I can do anything if I really don't care what the result is. I don't need money. I don't even need a future. I could knock out all my teeth with a hammer, so what? I could poke my eyes out. I'd still be alive. Strip naked and fart in the wind. At least I would know I was doing something real for two or three seconds. It's all about fear. And I'm not afraid anymore. Fuck it! (Jeff starts disrobing) Because anything is possible. Itis night on the planet earth and I am alive and someday I will be dead. Someday, I'll be bones in a box. But right now, I'm not. And anything is possible. And that's why I can go to New York with Sooze. Because each moment can be what it is. I'm on the train going there, I'm living there, I'm reading a newspaper, I'm walking down the street. There is no failure, there is no mistake. I just go and live there and what happens, happens. So at this moment, I am getting naked. And I am not afraid. FUCK FEAR! FUCK MONEY! I WILL GO TO NEW YORK AND I WILL LIVE IN A BOX. I WILL SING WITH THE BUMS. I WILL STARVE BUT I WILL NOT DIE. I WILL LIVE. I IWLL TALK TO GOD!
~Act II, Scene I
BEE-BEE: Do you . . . do you ever get up in the morning and think: "Well, here's another day, just like the last one?" You know? LIke what difference does it make? The days just keep coming, one after another . . . so . . . But I mean, if you lived them or not, what different would it make, you know?
~Act II, Scene I
JEFF: I don't feel so good. (Tim grabs him by the face and pulls him to him, making him listen.)
TIM: Because you don't want to admit what you are. Drink the last beer, go home, have a piss, jerk off and pass out. And you will have completed your mission on earth for one more day.
~Act II, Scene I
----------
As I was reading this play, I was really struck with how these characters, Jeff, Buff, and Tim, are just living. Just living on the most basic level, dicking around each night in front of the 7-Eleven, getting drunk, shootin' the shit - basically doing absolutely nothing. And in the stage directions, Bogosian indicates " The area stretching out toward the audience and into the wings is asphalt pavement, demarked with yellow parking lines. A large cement curb sits along the extreme downstage edge of the stage." Basically, these characters, who are just wasting their lives away, do so in front of a road.
And I thought to myself, "Why does this sound so familiar?" Oh yeah. Waiting for Godot. Vladimir and Estragon are waiting, doing almost nothing, day after day, for one Mr. Godot. And they do so next to a country road. The road's a symbol of journey, what life has to offer, and here, Beckett presents the irony of these two characters, given the chance to move on, to progress, but they don't. The same goes for Jeff especially in SubUrbia; he's the one who talks the most about how he can leave and explore and live if he wants to - he just chooses not to. Again: irony. Life and all it has to offer is presented to him, in opportunities, and he keeps missing them and continues to not advance. He could've been a part of Pony's band and living the rock star life. Sooze suggests he come with her to New York, but he blows it off. What is this guy doing? Wasting his life away.
Anyways, just a blurb on that realization.
...ok fine, I thought it was interesting, all right? Geez.
TIM: Sooze is too good for you, Jeff. That's the problem. A man should never be with a woman whose vocabulary is larger than his.
~Act I, Scene I
JEFF: It used to scare me that I didn't know what was coming in my life. I always thought, what if I make the wrong move? You know? But maybe there isn't any right move. You know I was trying to figure it all out. But maybe you can't. We all dress the same, we all talk the same, we all watch the same TV. No one's really different, even if they think they're different. "Oh boy, look at my tattoo!" You know? And that makes me free, because I can do anything if I really don't care what the result is. I don't need money. I don't even need a future. I could knock out all my teeth with a hammer, so what? I could poke my eyes out. I'd still be alive. Strip naked and fart in the wind. At least I would know I was doing something real for two or three seconds. It's all about fear. And I'm not afraid anymore. Fuck it! (Jeff starts disrobing) Because anything is possible. Itis night on the planet earth and I am alive and someday I will be dead. Someday, I'll be bones in a box. But right now, I'm not. And anything is possible. And that's why I can go to New York with Sooze. Because each moment can be what it is. I'm on the train going there, I'm living there, I'm reading a newspaper, I'm walking down the street. There is no failure, there is no mistake. I just go and live there and what happens, happens. So at this moment, I am getting naked. And I am not afraid. FUCK FEAR! FUCK MONEY! I WILL GO TO NEW YORK AND I WILL LIVE IN A BOX. I WILL SING WITH THE BUMS. I WILL STARVE BUT I WILL NOT DIE. I WILL LIVE. I IWLL TALK TO GOD!
~Act II, Scene I
BEE-BEE: Do you . . . do you ever get up in the morning and think: "Well, here's another day, just like the last one?" You know? LIke what difference does it make? The days just keep coming, one after another . . . so . . . But I mean, if you lived them or not, what different would it make, you know?
~Act II, Scene I
JEFF: I don't feel so good. (Tim grabs him by the face and pulls him to him, making him listen.)
TIM: Because you don't want to admit what you are. Drink the last beer, go home, have a piss, jerk off and pass out. And you will have completed your mission on earth for one more day.
~Act II, Scene I
----------
As I was reading this play, I was really struck with how these characters, Jeff, Buff, and Tim, are just living. Just living on the most basic level, dicking around each night in front of the 7-Eleven, getting drunk, shootin' the shit - basically doing absolutely nothing. And in the stage directions, Bogosian indicates " The area stretching out toward the audience and into the wings is asphalt pavement, demarked with yellow parking lines. A large cement curb sits along the extreme downstage edge of the stage." Basically, these characters, who are just wasting their lives away, do so in front of a road.
And I thought to myself, "Why does this sound so familiar?" Oh yeah. Waiting for Godot. Vladimir and Estragon are waiting, doing almost nothing, day after day, for one Mr. Godot. And they do so next to a country road. The road's a symbol of journey, what life has to offer, and here, Beckett presents the irony of these two characters, given the chance to move on, to progress, but they don't. The same goes for Jeff especially in SubUrbia; he's the one who talks the most about how he can leave and explore and live if he wants to - he just chooses not to. Again: irony. Life and all it has to offer is presented to him, in opportunities, and he keeps missing them and continues to not advance. He could've been a part of Pony's band and living the rock star life. Sooze suggests he come with her to New York, but he blows it off. What is this guy doing? Wasting his life away.
Anyways, just a blurb on that realization.
...ok fine, I thought it was interesting, all right? Geez.
This made my head spin
Read this
Didn't get that? Here: http://www.drawingboardcomic.com/index.php?comic=142.
But seriously, I feel like there's something to be said about this kinda situation (at least the first bit) of how a conversation is initiated between a guy and girl who are strangers. And what the possible intentions/motives are of either party.
It reminds me of this xkcd comic.
Didn't get that? Here: http://www.drawingboardcomic.com/index.php?comic=142.
But seriously, I feel like there's something to be said about this kinda situation (at least the first bit) of how a conversation is initiated between a guy and girl who are strangers. And what the possible intentions/motives are of either party.
It reminds me of this xkcd comic.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Quotetastic.2
From Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw
PICKERING: Excuse the straight question, Higgins. Are you a man of good character where women are concerned?
HIGGINS: Have you ever met a man of good character where women are concerned?
PICKERING: Yes: very frequently.
HIGGINS: Well I haven't. I find that the moment I let a woman make friends with me, she becomes jealous, exacting, suspicious, and a damned nuisance. I find that the moment I let myself make friends with a woman, I become selfish and tyrannical. Women upset everything. When you let them into your life, you find that the woman is driving at one thing and you're driving at another.
PICKERING: At what, for example?
HIGGINS: Oh, Lord know! i suppose the woman wants to live her own life; and the man wants to live his; and each tries to drag the other on to the wrong track. one wants to go north and the other south; and the result is that both have to go east, though they both hate the east wind.
~Act II
HIGGINS: You see, we're all savages, more or less. We're supposed to be civilized and cultured - to know all about poetry and philosophy and art and science and so on; but how many of us know even the meanings of these names? [To MISS HILL] What do you know of poetry? [To MRS. HILL] What do you know of science? [Indicating FREDDY] What do he know of art or science or anything else? What the devil do you imagine I know of philosophy?
~Act III
LIZA: There's lots of women has to make their husbands drunk to make them fit to live with. You see, it's like this. If a man has a bit of a conscience, it always takes him when he's sober; and then it makes him low-spirited. A drop of booze just takes that off and makes him happy.
~Act III
LIZA: You see, really and truly, apart from the things anyone can pick up (the dressing and the proper way of speaking, and so on), the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she's treated. I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me as a flower girl, and always will; but I know I can be a lady to you, because you always treat me as a lady, and always will.
~Act V
HIGGINS: I can do without anybody. I have my own soul: my own spark of divine fire. But I shall miss you, Eliza. I have learnt something from your idiotic notions: I confess that humbly and grateful. And I have grown accustomed to your voice and appearance. I like them, rather.
LIZA: Well, you have both of them on your gramophone and in your book of photographs. When you feel lonely without me, you can turn the machine on. It's got no feelings to hurt.
HIGGINS: I can't turn your soul on. Leave me those feelings; and you can take away the voice and the face. They are not you.
LIZA: Oh, you are a devil. You can twist the heart in a girl as easy as some could twist her arms to hurt her [ . . .] you don't care a bit for me.
HIGGINS: I care for life, for humanity; and you are a part of it that has come my way and been built into my house. What more can you or anyone ask?
LIZA: I won't care for anybody that doesn't care for me.
~Act V
HIGGINS: It you're going to be a lady, you'll have to give up feeling neglected if the men you know don't spend half their time snivelling over you and the other half giving you black eyes. If you can't stand the coldness of my sort of life, and the strain of it, go back to the gutter. Work til you are more a brute than a human being; and then cuddle and squabble and drink til you fall asleep. Oh, it's a fine life, the life of the gutter. It's real: it's warm: it's violent: you can feel it through the thickest skin: you can taste it and smell it without any training or any work. Not like Science and Literature and Classical Music and Philosophy and Art. You find me cold, unfeeling, selfish, don't you? Very well: be off with you to the sort of people you like. Marry some sentimental hog or other with lots of money, and a thick pair of lips to kiss you with and thick pair of boots to kick you with. If you can't appreciate what you've got, you'd better get what you can appreciate.
~Act V
Friday, April 8, 2011
The Foundation of Any Relationship
http://www.thehighdefinite.com/2011/04/foundation-of-any-relationship/relationshipfoundation/
something I've wondered for a while now
And I might've brought it up some time ago.
And excuse my inability at the moment to word this elegantly. But,
Would you rather be just pretty good/so-so at a lot of things
Or exceptionally great at just one or two things?
And excuse my inability at the moment to word this elegantly. But,
Would you rather be just pretty good/so-so at a lot of things
Or exceptionally great at just one or two things?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Food
I was feeling rather sprightly today and decided to make this macaroni and cheese recipe for dinner.
So. Freaking. Good.
And the best part is it's relatively simple to make to. It's not an oven bake mac 'n cheese, it's stove top.
I take it back, the BEST part is that the dishes needed to be washed afterwards is pretty darn small in number. Two pots (disregarding serving bowls and various cooking utensils). Just two pots, people!
I usually don't like having a meal without some kind of meaty-protein element, so I threw in some Canadian Bacon (hey I didn't have regular bacon. If I did, I would've fried some up and threw it in instead, okay?)
Delicious.
Also. I'm just gonna go ahead and admit that I'm a self-declared ballroom addict. And the only way to fix this is MORE BALLROOM. But seriously. All things ballroom have been makin' me a happy lad over the past month or so. It balances out my insanity. And stress. But mostly insanity.
Also. I'm just gonna go ahead and admit that I'm a self-declared ballroom addict. And the only way to fix this is MORE BALLROOM. But seriously. All things ballroom have been makin' me a happy lad over the past month or so. It balances out my insanity. And stress. But mostly insanity.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Once Again, it's Topsy Turvy Day
----------------------
**EDIT**
Hah! It worked! By papering our own door, we confused our friends as to who's responsible for the silly prank. My roommate said they were all tweeting about it to each other all morning trying to figure out whodunnit.
And I don't use twitter. I think it's silly.
----------------------
April 1, 2011. ~2:00 AM
Me: Oh shit. It's April 1 now.
Roommate: Yeah.
Me: Wanna newspaper our friends' doors?
Roommate: Alright.
So we did just that. Our friends live across from us. I pulled out the box from under my bed where I'd been stockpiling copies of the school newspaper, a paper for every day of class (or almost everyday. I threw away/recycled some because after all I'm not gonna need THAT many papers). And we newspapered their doors so that when they woke up this morning and was on their way out to their cars, whoa. Wall of newspapers.
But then because my roommate and I also tried to wall in our friends' doors with snow during the Snowpocalypse, we figured they'd wise up and suspect us as the culprits. So we tried to hopefully throw them off by newspaper our own front door and entering our apartment through the back. Nice.
If they accuse us, we'll try to play it off. Eventually, I'll post pictures and then they'll see. Mwahahah.
And I really wanted to newspaper someone's car (the patrol car belonging to the police officer who lives next door? Hmmmm) except it was already really late and besides, I still have plenty of paper left. Maybe one night I'll be exceptionally bored and decide "you know what, I think I'll newspaper a car. For shits and giggles."
Yeah.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)