You know what I enjoy about people, and more specifically - white people - when a song that they like comes on, they get the smirk face. Let me explain.
The smirk face has a little bit of the eyebrows furrowed so that there are wrinkles on the top of your forehead. Then there is the move of one side (only one) of your lip towards your cheek. Then, there is the head bobbing (kind of like a titled head nodding yes). Try this move right now. Pretty interesting, huh?
Now if you're thinking that nobody does this - you are wrong. In fact, you probably have done this. Many of you would be doing this right now if "Bump, Bump, Bump" by B2K came on. You pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about, but you do. I tried to point this out one time back in college, only to a mixed reaction of laughs and airplane bottles of Jaeger being pelted at me.
I didn't say anything was wrong with it, I just said I enjoyed it. People tend to assume that you are making fun of them more than commending them. I think it's great people have passion and umph for their music. It shows that you still have blood running through those veins. It's really the reserved people that bother me - I mean I'm all about staying stoic sometimes, but if you're like that all the time, it doesn't mean that you're some sort of cool, mysterious, mature being. It means you're unhappy. Unhappy people are the ones that trick themselves into thinking they are "cool" because they don't give into these things - Facebook, dancing, giving someone the fist pound.
My first bit of advice on the blog. Do something weird and crazy every once in a while, but make it like mayoanaise or butter. Spread it out, don't glob it all on at once or people won't be able to to stomach it, but do take the time once in a while to be a bit crazy, energetic, or weird so that if nothing else, you can gauge other people's reactions.
- Mr. C
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
A First Time for Everything
So, for many a drunken rant, I have made fun of people who kept blogs. I found it completely and utterly weird that so many people wanted other people to know what they were feeling, how they were feeling, when they were feeling it, and why they were feeling a certain way. I guess in a way, I'm still a bit skeptical about why this is necessary (I feel like I let my thoughts be known fairly well in the flesh), but perhaps it's the softness that creeps into your body the older you get that gives you bits of hope that maybe somebody will read your thoughts and laugh - either out of pity or concordance - and that a record of your wit should prevail on in the netherworld of the internet even if you perhaps do not.
As I sit and write this particular post, I cannot help but let my mind wander to the idiosyncrasies of this place we call "home." I wonder if perhaps we miss the permanence and simplicity of our youth to know that no matter what things were, we could give them a label easily when we were younger - "This is my house. This is my room. These are my friends. This is how I feel." Perhaps the greatest and worst tool college instills in you is a feeling of fluidity - we begin to see life and ourselves much like water- adaptable, powerful, and versatile, yet utterly bland, amorphous, and indistinguishable at times. This numbness that crept into you without even the realization that it was there came somewhere between recognizing your SAT scores don't matter at all and then realizing you are one of many people who are privy to the same guilty pleasures - hedonistic or intellectual - as everyone else. It's wonderful to realize there's a niche for you everywhere - people you can talk heady stuff with and people that will drink as much as you and perhaps embarrass themselves as well. But it also makes you realize that you can create that environment in many places and the thought of home starts to dissipate. I say this not to reiterate the message of "Garden State" (oh dramedy movies with a soundtrack, how you seduce us all), but more to wonder when we start to feel like the new life we are creating is our own, and not an escape/replication from our previous one. Does it take marriage, kids, or simply a certain amount of time away before you begin to sever ties with what life once was, and now what it is. When do we lose the nostalgia for the past and gain the ambition for the future? At 22, it seems weird that I am so nostalgic, yet I don't feel I'm alone. Therefore it makes me even more confused to think that I am happy to be home, yet can't really define what home is anymore. I shall think about it more this summer.
As I sit and write this particular post, I cannot help but let my mind wander to the idiosyncrasies of this place we call "home." I wonder if perhaps we miss the permanence and simplicity of our youth to know that no matter what things were, we could give them a label easily when we were younger - "This is my house. This is my room. These are my friends. This is how I feel." Perhaps the greatest and worst tool college instills in you is a feeling of fluidity - we begin to see life and ourselves much like water- adaptable, powerful, and versatile, yet utterly bland, amorphous, and indistinguishable at times. This numbness that crept into you without even the realization that it was there came somewhere between recognizing your SAT scores don't matter at all and then realizing you are one of many people who are privy to the same guilty pleasures - hedonistic or intellectual - as everyone else. It's wonderful to realize there's a niche for you everywhere - people you can talk heady stuff with and people that will drink as much as you and perhaps embarrass themselves as well. But it also makes you realize that you can create that environment in many places and the thought of home starts to dissipate. I say this not to reiterate the message of "Garden State" (oh dramedy movies with a soundtrack, how you seduce us all), but more to wonder when we start to feel like the new life we are creating is our own, and not an escape/replication from our previous one. Does it take marriage, kids, or simply a certain amount of time away before you begin to sever ties with what life once was, and now what it is. When do we lose the nostalgia for the past and gain the ambition for the future? At 22, it seems weird that I am so nostalgic, yet I don't feel I'm alone. Therefore it makes me even more confused to think that I am happy to be home, yet can't really define what home is anymore. I shall think about it more this summer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
