Sunday, August 21, 2005

the update

Well, hellooooo. It's As if I had said, Ciao, or Au Revoir, or gracefully like an old movie star, Until we meet again, little to know that I would be tragically killed in a balloon accident. But not. Because here I am. Not in the least bit like a ghost or anything. All corporeal. Tooo corporeal...

Okay! Well! Now that I've made you question why you came here, I'm going to continue riding the vein of ridiculosity and incoherence and let y'all know what's been going on the past week or two. And besides the vaguely druggie reference of that last sentence, I have to admit, sometimes I skip over entries like these in other peoples' blogs because they are so very long and packed full of unnecessary detail. So ignore the writing teachers I will and proceed like yoda no more...

Ooh let's use chapters. We can pretend it's like a quirky documentary film that's all disjointed but deep, like life is. And it'll win a small prize. Not like Cannes. But maybe some German town. Ready?

Chapter 1: The Apartment

I was supposed to move in with a friend who is going to Columbia public health school. And so there was a search, dealings with brokers, washing hands of brokers, and obsessive checking of craigslist and lamenting the crumbling nature, slow apocalypse, ending with a whimper and bad spelling and lies, because of said craigslist - new york edition. Days. Stress. Sweat. End: Friend finds place near school with roommates. I stay in Williamsburg and dodge people with ugly clothes.
Chapter 2: The Pen, or the Keyboard
I'm finally taking that step of actually writing - as opposed to saying that I'm writing and instead crawling into bed, eating cookies, and falling asleep in lonely dispositions. So, there's the kevchino cd reviews that I've recently started doing and finding a fun challenge. And I just wrote my first article for Accent magazine, which is a new publication geared towards younger, collegeage and twentysomethings. That was a tad stressful because it was kinda like being at college all over again, you know, the research, the staying up, the feverish typing and feverishly long push of the delete button, the procrastination, the putting off, the dillying and dallying... And then there's work-work, where I'm trying to ask for some more writing responsibilities...
I'm looking for some other publications to try out, online and print, though of course the tough thing is coming up with pitches and articles, if you can believe it.
Chapitre Trois: The Silver Screen
Saw two movies in the theatre. Finally got to Broken Flowers and also a documentary, Winter Soldier. Hopefully will get to write more about them here in future. Look! Lack of proper nouns! This is how Bridget Jones writes in that infamous Diary.
On DVD: Netflixwise, I've been stuck on Bergman's Scenes from a Marriage but only cuz of busy-ness. And yesterday my friend and I watched My Architect, a documentary about Louis Kahn. Hopefully more on that later as well. Please continue to stay at the edge of your cushioned seats.
Chapter Four: Future Things
So this whole planning on going to grad school for the school year of 2006-07 is falling short like a pea running into mashed potato. Mmmmmm. Mashed potato....
Basically I'm thinking of applying to schools with international affairs/relations type things and perhaps do a joint degree in journalism. I've been stuck on this idea for awhile but have taken little action but think every few moments about it. So to continue a young tradition, I'll just leave this section out here to dry and move on, though comments will be appreciated.
Chapter Five: The Dial Goes to Eleven
Caught the free show at South Street Seaport with Clap Your Hands and that was short and fun. And this past week, I heard but not saw Stars @ Summerstage because I was walking through the park on a lovely balmy evening. I sat on a bench near a boy whom I pretended to ignore, because I'm stupid like that.
Lately, I haven't been feeling the urge to attend live shows, even Sufjan Stevens. Just because. Blahblahblah. I should probably read less music blogs. Because so often, it's just blahblahblah. But I'm getting more excited about some upcoming shows of people I've already seen but like very much, as in that song with brown paper packages and warm woolen mittens. Like Feist. And Regina Spektor. And beating myself over the head with a Canadian mallet because I didn't buy Arcade Fire tickets in time.
Chapter Six: This is getting really long.
Epilogue: Renewal
Every couple weeks, I get the idea into my head that I'm really going to change for the better. I will be lovely and smart and charming and just-the-right-amount of sarcastic and responsible and get.shit.done. So this week, I plan on redoing some of my bedroom, super-cleaning the apartment, preparing some good but healthy food and going to the gym, and doing more research on this school business. Most likely, I will end up with some cursory vacuuming, eating lots of nachos, and reading too many blogs and articles that I don't remember anyway.

1 comment:

n said...

When you pretend to ignore boys, it just makes us more discouraged and even less likely to smile and say hello.