Fuckin' Hipsters Stealing My Sleep

I know.  I know know know that what I am about to say makes me sound like I'm an 80 year old woman, but WHY must the people across the hall from me have a crazy loud party at midnight, and then proceed to leave their door wide open AND climb up to the roof using the fire escape that is connected to my window when I'm sick and all I want to do is go to sleep?  What is it about Brooklyn, Hipsters, skinny jeans, and roof tops that makes such a ridiculous combination?


It is now that I introduce to you a website that, while I loathe it's existence (and the fact that they have a damn BOOK published, which is how I found it in the first place [thanks BN]), called "Look At This Fucking Hipster".  I'm sorry.  They need to buy more underpants and TURN THE PARTY DOWN.

Reasons I currently don't like "Hipsters":

A. They go on my roof
2. "You smell homeless, Brett.  Homeless".  This is because Hipsters don't shower.  That is, they don't shower enough.  Greasy hair = stylish and easier to mold into a cool mo hawk or a weirdo spiked comb over.  It also holds onto hats with more ease.
D. They try too hard to be different.  Just be yourself, smelly kids.

I would like to share with you an excerpt from the article entitled "The Hipster Manifesto" by Julie Grisolano:

The hipster manifesto is repleat with what's cool and what's not.  If you're a hipster, you know all the latest "cool" restaurants, bars, bands, music venues, books, clothes, and "hip" neighborhoods to live in.  Being a hipster means you buck convention by getting a job out of college that is unique, dress in non-conformist clothes, probably majored in some liberal arts degree at school, loathe the idea of ever living in the burbs, listen to NPR, go to bars that are off the beaten path, like quirky movies, and listen to bands that probably get very little major network radio time.  And the minute a movie, band, restaurant, bar, or neighborhood, starts becoming mainstream, you no longer consider it "cool."  Constantly looking for the new "it", hipsters religiously search for the latest trend--before it becomes too trendy.  If everyone else is doing it, then it's not novel.  And if it's not novel, it's not hip.  Considering that being "hip" is about bucking the trend, hipsters ironically perform this ritual with clockwork.  And in no area is this clockwork-mentality more apparent than in the worldview they hold. 

Put different clothes on them and place them in a different decade, our modern-day hipster nonetheless often resembles the 1960's hippy from our parent's generation.  Is this a stereotype?  Sure.  But take a poll next time you meet a hipster and about 8 times out of 10 they'll overwhelmingly agree with the more liberal-leaning cultural opinions they listened to on NPR or read in the latest "hip" cultural-commentary book.  They'll give you an earful too on all the woes that America has inflicted on a. the world, b. every minority group in the world, and c. the vast 3rd world nations that America colonized at one time.  Forget that America didn't actually colonize the 3rd world countries they mention, rather that it was our European friends whose good-opinion they crave so much, they'll still steadfastly maintain that somehow, it's America's fault.  Not too long ago I had a conversation with a young woman, armed with a law degree and other multiple advanced-degrees, who argued that America was the worst nation on the planet.  As an ardent feminist, I thought surely that she'd consider countries with aggressive policies against women---countries that don't allow women to vote, drive a car, or eat in public---far worse.  But, she adamantly disagreed saying that, "Nothing compares to America.  We're the worst country in the world."  Now, I'm not saying my country of residence is perfect, but I will bet my meager life savings that America's young feminist hipsters wouldn't relish the idea of trading places with the ladies of Saudi Arabia. 

I feel better.  Now to get some sleep.  OH WAIT.  

Single Thought Post Day

I type my name into my computer as if I were still at WPU. I do this everyday.

I love living in a city that allows me to obtain whatever food I want, whenever and wherever I want it.  To connect: this corn chowder bread bowl is shamazing.

I'm super excited about The Wedding Singer.

When was Thanksgiving suddenly a week away?

One of my favorite co-workers is leaving for an amazing job opportunity.

I still look for my parents approval, and want them to be proud of me.  I don't think they are.

I need to calm my sweet tooth down - I've been consuming far too much sugar.

Losing friends to bad decisions makes me sad.  Losing board games doesn't bother me at all.

I'm saving up to take a much anticipated and highly over due trip to D.C., and also, California.

I'm dreading the holidays this year.

I want a cat like it's my job.  More importantly, I miss Sophie.

Break ups are hard.

I'm really excited for the cake at our staff meeting today.

I hope I can stay awake for Harry Potter tonight - and that seeing it at midnight while having work the next day wasn't a bad decision.

I love seltzer.
I need to win the lottery.

I've Been Really Into These Lately...

"Everything is fine, and will remain so unless you overreact.  Think positive.  Although this is a bit of confusion in a certain key area of your life right now, things are on the upswing for you.  And opportunity you have waited a long time for and perhaps even forgotten about is about to present itself.  Don't be afraid to believe in the possibilities once again.  This time you won't be disapointed."

Thanks, daily horoscope.  I needed that!

Quick Notes

This summer would have been the 44th Freeman and Wells Family Reunion. One of these days, we're tie-dying shirts and going.

I also can't believe it's been almost 3 years since we drove down to LBI, spray painted shells neon green, yellow, and pink, mixed them with pearls, and filmed my running into the ocean in 50 degree weather, picked up 4 half liters of Wawa iced tea/lemonade, and just made it home in time for the Pioneer Players meeting in the new dorms.

Strange memories are haunting me today, and the Hudson River is oddly grey. How gloomy.

Scatter Brain

I'm exhausted and maybe a little cloudy from being sick and taking lots and lots of Sudafed. I've also eaten my weight in oranges, read half a book, Netti-potted the crap out of myself, and am in desperate need of doing laundry, but have been avoiding it like the plague.

A few weeks ago I got my sister two shirts at Target - one was an orange and black Halloween Hello Kitty t-shirt, and the other was a long sleeved black shirt with a turquoise t-shirt over top of it, covered in pink and purple flowers and sparkles. This weekend, she told me

she loves that shirt the best, because of the sparkles, and since she is so good at sharing, she has been scrapping the sparkles off the shirt and giving them to her friends. The adorable factor is out of control.

I've been doing a lot of exploring and wondering in the city the past week or so. I really like Brooklyn, even though I am in hipsterville. Things you may only see here:

1. Knitting factories turned apartments - very hip

2. Artists bicycling their beloved pieces around, particularly giant canvases

3. Graffiti being done on rotation

I sometimes wonder if it's possible to fall in love again. I used to think that you're given one great love in your life, and that's who

you are meant to be with. My opinion has since changed, but I still sometimes wonder: What if we as beings are given one shot, one person to love for always, and I had mine, and now I'm done? Am I capable of loving someone? Or have I shut down that part of myself forever for fear of getting hurt again? Perhaps, I'll know when I find them. Maybe I won't.

Then there are other times when I think: When I'm ready to be in love again, I will be, and the person I'm meant to be with will find me. I mean, that's what happened last time. So who knows.

I've started looking into adoption. Cats, not humans.

I wish I were Tina Fey. Or Wonder Woman.

Todays Horoscope...

Don't focus on a recent mistake or mishap. There is nothing to be gained from going over the scenario in your mind. You can't change the past, but worrying about it can change the future by bringing you down and leaving you in a stressed-out and beaten-down state. Let go of anything that has already happened, and concentrate on the road ahead. The horizon is quite bright, but you will only see it if you stop looking down and start looking up. Move forward one step at a time is that's all you can muster, but move forward.

Here's hoping!

Nonsensical Banter

I spent 2 hours walking around Williamsburg last night, and discovering the greatest fallafel I've ever eaten. Today, my feet hurt. Worth it.

NEW TOPIC. I am not ashamed to admit that I am, in fact, a Glee fan. I am, however, very sad at how terribly the show has been going this season, thus far. While last night certainly was a nod back to old school Glee (can I call it that after only one season? It seemed long), it's still lacking the initial excitement and enthusiasm the show had when it first started out. The reason I liked it so much was that, in a way, it lived out all my secret fantasies of what I wished high school was really like - bursting out into random musical numbers, immediately knowing music and perfect harmonies by just glancing at a piece of sheet music, actually HAVING a Glee Club, with a bangin' band available at a moments notice, and instantaneously knowing a full musical theatre number, choreography and all, and being amazing at it. This season, however, Glee is focusing more on gathering ratings and numbers by playing "tribute" (if you want to call it that) to supposed musical icons (again, if you want to call them that). While the Madonna episode last year was phenomenal, it still pushed forward with a plot line. This seasons Brittany episode was a pathetic excuse for an hour of television. Yes, the music videos were on point, but a plot line where kids go to the dentist to get high and have trips so they can be the lead of their own Brittany video? Give me a break. And since when does the guidance counselor call in her dentist boyfriend to give singers a lesson on brushing their teeth? STRETCH. I can't even touch the disaster that was the Rocky Horror episode. I knew it would be a bust, but I tried to give it a chance. I will never get that hour of my life back. "Sweet Transvestite" should be sung by just that - a transvestite. Mercedes wearing a corset? Not the same. True, her voice is killer, and her diva-dom remains in tact, but even Aretha couldn't pull that number off unless she had a penis and some serious lipstick. She is not, in fact, a tranny. And is it just me, or does watching two teachers start to get it on in a classroom while singing make anyone else uncomfortable? Yikes.

Last nights episode looks like it could be Glee's saving grace, tackling issues such a gay bullying while still maintaining killer musical numbers - the rival all boys a capella group rocked it. Yet the prospect of Gwenyth Paltrow coming on next week makes me uneasy. I really want to keep watching and enjoying this show. I do hope they go back to where it began.

I would like to share an excerpt on the subject from Meghan Brown, co-founder of the Giraffe Hunt Theatre in LA, from a recent article in the Atlantic:

"Okay. I'm mad again.

What. The. Heck. Is. Going. On.

Why would a relatively conservative high school in Ohio put on Rocky Horror? In what Universe is RHPS Emma's favorite movie? How is a whole musical going up in a week's time? Why is everyone OK with adults (especially non-faculty adults LIKE THE SCHOOL COUNSELOR'S DENTIST BOYFRIEND) being in a sexy musical with high schoolers? Why is Amber playing Frankenfurter instead of Kurt? How did Sue's anti-Rocky rant end up being the most logical part of the show?

More importantly: Why do we care? Why do we care if Emma and Will get together, when Will is sort of the world's worst person? Why do we care about a musical that we can tell from the get-go isn't going to end up happening?

Look, Glee isn't Rocky Horror, and Rocky Horror certainly isn't Britney Spears. A fakey homage consisting of a watered-down, Disney-fied version isn't going to cut it.

Amen, sister. Rant over.

Growing and Learning

It's 8am, and I am sitting at my desk drinking hot chocolate and eating pomegranate seeds after walking through hail (yes, hail in Brooklyn in November) and freezing awful wind tunnels just to ride the stuffed elevator up to the ninth floor, and listen to Peter, my consumer with MR, give away all the main plot points to "Due Date", the movie he saw this weekend. My office, with the exception of one or two of my co-workers, is completely empty for the day.

A lot has happened in the past few weeks, and I've learned a lot - mostly about myself. I guess picking up and moving as I did enables you to do a lot of self reflection, as it were. After the hellish roller coaster ride that was this summer, it makes sense. It's nice to be feeling a little more settled in. I still have a lot of things to sort through and boxes to unpack (and let's not talk about the storage unit back home I have yet to tackle), but it's coming along, slowly but surely. It's both challenging and fulfilling, sorting through all the crap you've obtained over the years. It's refreshing to move into a new place and unpack things the way you want - a fresh start, both physically and mentally. I like it.

I've learned that helping people can have bad repercussions, and you have to be really careful. Careful about who you trust, and who you lean on; who you open yourself up to, and who you let in.

I've learned it's important to know what you want, and stay strong in that. Expectations can never be too high, and lowering them for something or someone shouldn't be an option.

I've learned that I need to remain true to myself, and I need to be more secure in my decisions and my actions. I lost sight of that for a while, and I'm slowly gaining it back. What I don't think people understand is that when you're knocked down so much and so far, sometimes it's takes a little bit of time to get yourself back up. Some people bounce back quickly - I take a little more time. But I'm getting there.

I have also learned that confidentiality needs to be adhered to more often, and this statement applies mainly to me. I've always considered myself to be a good listener, and a good friend. In the past couple of months, I think I let that slip a bit. While I remained truthful and honest, I think I lost sight of how important it is to sometimes just keep your mouth shut, even if you have good intentions. I owe apologies and promises that I have seen my mistakes and since grown past them. I have some great people in my life. I don't plan on losing them anytime soon.

I think I've grown up a lot in the past few months. I'm not thrilled at the way I did it, but I'm coming out better on the other end. I'm getting somewhere, and that makes me optimistic for things to come. I've started looking into graduate programs, and job opportunities I can grab onto through my organization - I applied to teach ballet to 5 year olds with autism and DS, which would just be amazing. I'm excited.

Recoil

Dear Ani Difranco: Thank you for always having songs that perfectly narrate my life. I'm not sure how you knew what I would be thinking or feeling back when you wrote your songs, but I appreciate it now. Sincerly, me.

Come home and my guitar has nothing to say to me
I recoil from all my friends and then I'm in misery
Been so long since I've been held, really since I was his
Probably just need to be held, that's probably all it is

Course then I think of my Dad, who travels mostly now
Back to when he was free and holding out hope somehow
Who sits all day in a line of wheelchairs against a wall
Inventing ways to play out time like us all

To all the people out there tonight who are comforting themselves
If you should happen to see my light you can stop and ring my bell
I'm just sitting here in this sty strewn with half written songs
Taking one breath at a time, not much going on

Little flashing zero on my answering machine
Rats scratching at my brain, braing shuffling it's feet
Yes, I have my fathers heart, it may or may not keep on trying
Can't really tell you what it is keeps me this side of that dark line

But I'm not there to take care of him, and I'm not here to take care of me
I'm going outside to watch the house burn down across the street

"How can people be so heartless?

You know I'm hung up on you

Easy to give in, easy to say no"

Blasphemy

I forgot how yummy Swedish Fish were. Even though they are made in Canada, and not Sweden. False advertising.