Mix. Tape?

My favorite gift I've ever received was a good old mix tape. I like the kind that is recorded on a real cassette. I like the kind that you can play in your car tape deck and the sound is just tinny and right - until you park in the sun too many times and the heat melts the tape, and then the sound is all underwater-y. Or maybe you get frustrated and start winding the spools until the tape breaks and you throw it out the window in little spidery streamers.
The one mixtape I got that I treasured until its death had some really good stuff on it and was passed on to me by an elder, with whom I entrusted my virginal ears. I'm not sure where the tape is. I know I saved it for posterity's sake though, even if the actual cassette doesn't play. Those songs meant so much to me. Reverend Cheeseburger, if you're out there. I'm thinking of you.
I don't have a tape deck, but if someone gives me a tape, I'll find one.

The Year of (Not) Nice

The Readers' Digests and Oprahs of the world are increasingly concerned with how people, particularly people of the young, single, and male variety, have lost all form of nicety. Sure, there's a lot less expected of people in a world where picking up the telephone to call someone is passe. Who even says "telephone" anymore? Taking these lowered expectations into consideration, I propose - instead of manners and "netiquette" - injecting some simple honesty into our interactions with ourselves and each other. If we acknowledge that it's par-for-the-course to be lazy in our interpersonal relationships (writing on someone's "wall" instead of arranging a date to see that person), than perhaps we can avoid setting ourselves up for confusion, disappointment, and miscommunication.

And so, I am unofficially making my mantra this year "The Year of (Not) Nice".

I say, "so what?" People are lazy assholes - let 'em be. Above all, there must be honesty. Example: texting makes it easier to cancel appointments last minute, like, RIGHT BEFORE you're supposed to meet someone. Getting "stood up" is a quaint circumstance of yesteryear. So, instead of having to make up an actual lie to explain yourself later, you just start out making a bunch of open-ended social plans, with the expectation that they may or may not (probably not) work out - ie: "there's this thing tonight...", "text me later...", or "let's hang out sometime." This is a waste of time.

It would be so much easier to not offer your phone number in the first place, to deny a friend request, or to say "I don't really like you all that much" - even if the "you" is yourself. Because, let's face it people, this is a NEW YEAR, and we all deserve some positive and worthwhile change. As long as you admit that you're a horrible person, there is no room for guessing or beating around the bush.

In marketing courses, we are taught that high productivity is achieved through realizing goals with a minimum cost of resources. And if you think of forming relationships as a way of marketing yourself, this concept can be easily applied for increased efficiency (no wasted time) and effectiveness (positive interactions). So sit in front of the mirror and practice saying "I don't like you" if that's what it takes.

And stop wasting my goddamn time.

CutePost!

Toot toot! Hi. Here's some cute stuff...

I went to the Woodland Park Zoo whilst visiting my cousin in Seattle last week. It was very wet and my boots were soggy, but we managed to have some fun since NOBODY goes to the zoo in the rain. We were also lucky enough to see the zoo's nocturnal exhibit before it's closure in a couple months. Our favorite nighttime animal and fantasy pet was the wittle slow loris. Obvs. we couldn't take its picture cause it lives in the dark. And who knows what the camera flash would do to those precious (scary) big eyes. Anyhow, some of you might remember this video:



Also on my Sea-town adventure was a last-minute stop at Schmancy, one third of the self-proclaimed "Trilogy of Awesome" boutiques; Fancy, Schmancy, and uhh...Nancy?? Anyway, I told my cousin about my love of weird-o Plush toys, particularly those sold by one Yummy Pancake, and his girlfriend said that he'd HAVE to take me to Schmancy downtown. All this time, I'd been obsessed with having my very own crocheted toast plushy, and didn't put two and two together. Schmancy not only sells the coveted Mr. Toastee plush toast, but is selling an exclusive number of Toastees styled to look like the undead. Cute zombie toast OMG!!!



So I bought one. He comes with his own birth certificate and his name is Jim. God, I'm so weird.

Float yer boat

I've seriously been diggin' on some boat shoes lately. I'm gonna take a note from CCR and ask, "who stopped the rain?" 'cause I've been really itching to get into a pair of some cozy pac-boot style puddle stompers. My friend also decided to take a mob of people sailing on Christmas day, which could either be amazing or stupid cold. Either way, I'm having trouble deciding on the perfect pair of deck skips.



This delicious pair of chukka boots is just Nike Blazer enough to get away with as everyday winter wear. Band of Outsiders even did a little Sperry collabo for the mens this fall...sigh...until my feet grow to size 9, I'll be sporting something cheaper and a little more traditional.

Don't Let Me Down

Wow. So this is the frequency with which I blog now. My school semester is over, and two posts earlier, it had just begun. As I was leaving the student center yesterday, where I'd been cramming for my last couple exams, this guy sat down at the jangly practice piano and started jamming out a soulful, saloon rendition of "Don't Let Me Down". Way to play the soundtrack of my life, guy. That finance exam "done me good," alright. It's been a really weird year. But you knew that already.

CutePost!!

Coca-cola mini can!! I'm so excited! I hate how you have to guzzle the 12 oz can so your fizzies don't fall flat.

Salmon, Burnt Sienna, Dandelion, Periwinkle

This week was my first week of the Fall semester, and this semester marks my 10 bajillionth semester of college. This is a true story.

For so long, the prospect of a new semester incited in me great plans for the coming year. At least I thought they were great. These plans revolved mostly around who I would sit with at lunch - a matter that's taken pretty seriously well into high school. I showed up that first day of Kindergarten (after the crying and separation anxiety) freshly pressed and coiffed alongside other kids with hair parted and ponytailed and shirts tucked until recess. We eyed each others' cartoon lunch boxes.

College is no different. Just substitute "identity" for "lunch box" and you get the idea. After several bajillion years of this, it's just too much. I've spent enough on tuition and books. Is it too much to ask for an education without all the asserting of self and differentness and Socialist club meetings? I am a tired undergrad. Over the hill. Just give me my degree already and set me out to pasture.

So instead of buying the 64-pack of crayons and a new pencil box this year, I went with the $30 HP financial calculator, the $230 Management Information Systems Textbook bundle, two French review textbooks - $120 not sold separately, $150 in online texts, and several grand above my tuition to cover the coronary I'm gonna have when this is all over.