The Man

Well, I tried to make it last as long as I could, but The Man has put her foot down. “What did The Man make you do”, you ask? In case you haven’t noticed, or haven’t read my blog before, I had to take down my last post, “Baby Mama Drama/Lifestyle Changes”, and The Man was behind it all. But since The Man still pays for my cell phone bill and car insurance, and takes me out to eat all the time, I gotta do what The Man says. It seems that my former post ruffled the feathers of The Man and her cohorts. The Man didn’t understand why I felt the need to broadcast my troubles for the world to see. But it’s a generational thing. It’s kind of like how right now, I feel the need to tell you all that I’m having an OK day and bought a Coke Zero at the gas station. Raise the roof!

But what The Man was really upset about was how that one little blog post could affect my future. She was afraid that if I left that piece of writing up, it could be the difference between getting the job of my dreams or not, or getting accepted to grad school or not. But because I love The Man, and I want to still be able to play Words With Friends with her, and drive to her house, the post had to come down like the Berlin Wall. 

Having to write this post feels like what I imagine writing a eulogy would be like. But maybe it’s just because it’s cold and cloudy today. Either way, it does make me sad that I’ve had to take my last post down. One of the parties involved in the last post wrote to me again on FaBo, telling me several things that were meant to tear me down and make me feel shitty. Well it did. For about two seconds. After having lunch with The Man, I went to Starbucks to write this “eulogy”. And who did I happen to see in there? The second most hipster person I know. I haven’t seen this former coworker, fellow musician/percussionist/djembe enthusiast, recently engaged friend in a while, and it was really good to see him. I had forgotten how encouraging and uplifting this dude is! After having someone just try to make me feel super shitty by saying that my writing is “useless”, this guy goes and says he thinks my writing is really good and witty and hilarious. It completely made my day. We talked more about my blog, and his critique of it was exactly what I was trying to get across to people. He GOT it! He understood that with my last post, I was just venting about some shitty stuff that happened to me and trying to make a joke out of it. As if that weren’t enough, dude says I should write some little books or something, of stories of my life. As flattered as I am by that suggestion, I think I’ll just stick with blogging for now. But who knows, maybe one day I will turn this humble little blog of mine into something bigger, something more concrete. Maybe I’ll be the next Lena Dunham. I wouldn’t mind winning a couple Golden Globes for writing about my life. 

Forever dancing like an idiot.

Before I wrap up, I’d like to repost the not-so-controversial part of my last post and add to it.

I woke up this morning at about 7am (which is super unlike me), and after tossing and turning, trying to get back to sleep, I decided that I was going to make a change, turn over a new leaf, and leave all this Baby Mama drama behind me. For the past who-knows-how-long, I’ve been eating junk food. Not because I don’t like healthy food like fruits and vegetables and such, but because it’s the quick and easy thing to do. If it’s midnight and I’m hungry, I’d just drive to Krystal’s or Taco Bell because they’re both open late and both exactly a minute’s drive away from my house. But I’ve just become so sick of constantly eating crap. And after last night’s ordeal, I feel like I need to change some things in my life, like cutting certain people out, and eating healthy. Call it my belated New Year’s resolutions, if you will. So I got up and went to see my mom at work, to tell her about my new lifestyle plans, and freaked her out because I was awake and dressed at 10am on a Monday. But she’s all on board and excited that I’ve decided to eat better.  

From there I went to Publix and spent nearly $50 on carrots, celery, apples, bananas, grapes, grape tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, EVOO, balsamic vinegar, peanut butter, milk, bottled water, some storage containers for my veggies, and some Ziploc baggies for on-the-go-ness. I’m hoping these supplies will last me for the whole week and that I won’t get tired of eating almost the same thing every day, but we shall see. And I shall keep you all posted! 

Welp, I ate all the mozzarella, tomatoes, and celery in two days. And I was hungry allllll day Monday, even though I’d been eating my fruits and veggies all day, and I ended up breaking down and getting a couple of junior hamburgers from Wendy’s at 9pm. But I think trying to quit eating crap “cold turkey” was maybe the wrong approach. I think I need to slowly cut out the crap. I’m still eating more fresh fruits and veggies than I did last week, but I also had pizza for lunch today, and I’m OK with that (hey, you can’t really go wrong with pizza from Harvest Moon, amirite Albanians?). I’m also going to start exercising. Last night at about midnight, while it was kind of raining, I decided to go for a walk. It was awesome. I came home drenched, but it was really refreshing. I walked probably a little over a mile in my neighborhood, with my rain boots and my favorite playlist. I’m going to try to do this at least once a week, if not more. Doing these small things in the small space of four days has already made me feel better, and made me feel less like crap. 

All in all, I feel like I’m making some small steps in the right direction, starting with cutting out the crap: the crappy people and the crappy food. You should try it too.

Shout out to my friend Jeramie, the second most hipster person I know. Thank you for your kind words. And here’s your reminder to let me know what you think about this post. 

Reading Kerouac instantly makes you Hipster

I feel I should explain why I’m reading Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. At the end of this past summer, I had an idea. So I started writing it down and I realized that it was forming into a screenplay, something that I wanted to see turned into a film. At first I thought it’d just be a short film, but as I kept writing, I came to the conclusion that it was going to be too long to be a short film. Just to be clear, this is not a J.K. Rowling deal where I wrote the ending first (isn’t that what she did with Harry Potter?), it’s more like I’m writing it as I go and creating this story on the fly. 

This story is kind of about me, and not, at the same time. The main character is basically me and the story is told from her perspective, complete with voiceovers and everything. But she’s going on a road trip and that’s where the Kerouac comes in. I’ve never been on a major road trip like that. When I was like 10 years old or something, my family and I traveled up the east coast, from Georgia to Maryland/DC but I don’t really count that as a real road trip because I was asleep for most of it. 

I was going along, trying to write this story about something I’d never actually done, and it occurred to me that I needed to educate myself. I’d heard about Jack Kerouac before but didn’t really know anything about him. All I knew was that he went on a cross country road trip, then he wrote a book about it. I did some research and found out that he was the dude that coined the term Beat Generation. I also found out that On the Road was published in 1951 which was way earlier than I thought the Beat Generation started. There were beatniks in the original 1988 Hairspray, and that film was set in 1962. Did the Beat Generation really last that long? Or was that just a stereotype that John Waters wanted to use? These are questions I’m still trying to find the answers to. 

Either way, I knew that if I wanted to understand what going on a road trip was like, without actually going on one, that I needed to read On the Road. So, being a poor musician, I decided to ask for the book for Christmas, rather than spend the sixteen precious dollars myself (hey, that’s like 4 Whopper Jr. meals at Burger King, and a girl’s gotta eat). On Christmas afternoon, sitting in my grandmother’s white living room, with white carpets, and a white Christmas tree, she handed me a present. I ripped it open, and there it was, a red paperback with a giant picture of Jack Kerouac’s face on it. I was super excited. Just holding it made me feel extremely cool. I immediately pictured myself sitting in an oversized armchair in Starbucks, holding an outrageously overpriced coffee, and reading this book. And all the hipsters in my town who, miraculously, can afford to go to Starbucks every day, would see me reading this book and think, “God, she’s so hip, I could puke.” (By the way, I actually did this, except I was at a table, and the most hipster person I know did in fact walk in and came over to my table and we had like a 10 second convo about Kerouac. It was awesome.)

I am a very slow reader. Which is why I don’t really read books. But just for the record, I have read every Harry Potter book and, ashamedly, every Twilight book. Don’t judge, homie. I’m only ten chapters in. What I’ve realized, in the space of 58 pages, is that Kerouac was so ADD. Like whoa. I feel like he’s got this grand story in his head, with so many little details about every person that he meets, and every situation that he’s in, but some how it doesn’t come out on paper very coherently. Maybe if I did some cocaine or something, it’d all make sense. The ironic thing is, I think I write that way a little bit too, amirite? So, I guess I do kinda get his writing style, I just wish it was slightly more organized. I suppose that’s the charm of his writing style, though. He’s so fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants that you feel like you’re there with him. Which is why it’s so important that I read his book! (Yeah, that was me having an epiphany just then.)

I do think that the next step in trying to finish this screen play is to actually go on a road trip myself. You’re supposed to write what you know, right? I need to go out and have this experience that my characters are having. Otherwise, the script would feel like a lie. 

So, who’s going with me?

 My very hipster Christmas

Not only did he coin the term Beat Generation, he also coined the term Hipsters. (jk, I don't really know, so don't quote me on that.)

Golden Age Syndrome

Ok, so it’s not quite Golden Age Syndrome, I just wish I could have lived in certain periods in the past. Like if I could live a couple weeks or even months in a certain time period, I’d be happy. When I’d get bored of living in one time period, I’d go on to the next, and so on. I’ve never been obsessed with time travel or anything, but that would be a great thing to be able to do. But I suppose my presence could screw up the time space continuum or something. Not that I’m so important or significant that I would affect the course of time, but you never know. One little decision that I could make could affect the decision that someone else might make. It’s mind blowing to think about.

But there’s so many things that have happened, mostly in the twentieth century, that I wish I could have been alive for, so that I could be a part of them. Like going to Woodstock. Oh, if only! And now that I’m reading On the Road, I wish I could have been a part of the Beat Generation with Kerouac, roaming the country, making friends with every stranger I come across, drinking, doing drugs, having sex, and doing nothing, never sleeping, having philosophical discussions all night. Things are so different now. Back then, it was semi-normal to roam and hitchhike like that, now, you’d have to be crazy to think you can live that way. Having met someone who lives like that now, I know it’s an insane way to live. But it does seem liberating; to not know what you’ll be doing or who you’ll be meeting from day to day. Any sane person that wants to road trip now has to have money and a plan to start. When Sal, from On the Road, started, he only had fifty dollars. FIFTY DOLLARS! And no car. That’s insane! That’d be like a hundred dollars today, maybe a little more. Crazy. I can’t imagine doing that in this day. But it was feasible then. Which is why I wish I could live in that time and do it the way Kerouac did it. Too bad they didn’t have Instagram then. I’d Instagram the shit out of my 1947 road trip (by the way, I think the Beat Generation was the first hipster generation). 

After my road trip with Jack, I’d want to get in with the Beatles’ crowd. But not until like 1965-66ish, when they started doing drugs and making music of more substance. I’d hang out with them until 1969, then make my way to Woodstock, and take some hits of acid with Janis and Jimi and Joe and whoever else. Then I’d find Queen and ask Freddy Mercury to teach me everything he knows. Maybe I’d go to Seattle in the 90’s and hang out with Nirvana and become BFFs with Dave Grohl. Yeah. 

But all in all, I enjoy my skinny jeans, and Toms, and iPhone, and iPod, and MacBook, and such. And I guess I’ll be ok with just looking back at written history, thinking, “what if?”, and being thankful for those who came before me and lived those lives that I can read about now, and be jealous.

(Oh hey, if you like this idea of the Golden Age Syndrome, go watch Midnight in Paris. That's where I got the idea. And it's a good movie.)

The Beginning

Yep, here we go. 

To point out the obvious, I'm starting my first blog. Ever. Not because I think I have anything important to say, but just so that I can say that I'm doing something somewhat productive. I don't do very many productive things in my life, the way it is now, so why not try. Plus, I've been drinking a wine spritzer thing, and starting a blog seemed like a pretty good idea.

I never took a writing or English course in college (unless you count that fucking FIS class we were all subjected to first year), but I've always enjoyed writing. In middle school and high school, I wrote all the time. I had so many spiral notebooks and composition notebooks, and cute little stationary-like notebooks that I wrote in. It was mostly melodramatic, emo (before "emo" was a thing) poetry about unrequited love. One time I tried to write a novel about these kids that lived in 1949. It was called "Walden's Creek"---not that I was even aware of Thoreau's Walden at that point---and it was basically about my friends at the time, except we lived out in the country in the year 1949. I think I wrote like 2 or 3 chapters and never finished. That has always been a big problem for me, finishing things. Like the screenplay I'm currently writing, but haven't actually worked on for the past couple of months. I keep telling myself that I have writer's block, but I think it's actually just procrastination. When you get to college though, you have to finish things. My writing wasn't that great in college. Maybe I should have taken a writing course. But I was pretty focused on doing just enough to get by, and only taking the courses I needed to in order to graduate. I believe it was my senior year, in music history, when I wrote a paper about the Beatles, and when I got the paper back, my professor had written that it was too conversational. But hey dude, that's just how I write. And come on, it was a paper on the Beatles, how formal does it really need to be? 

So anyway, that was just a little insight into my writing skillz, just so that you're informed. I'd like to be able to tell you what to expect from this blog as time goes on, but I really have no idea. I think this will mostly be a place for me to vent about things that happen in my life, and put some of the thoughts and ideas that I have down into words. Sounds good to me, how about you?