Holy people-read-my-blog Batman! People read my blog!
Thanks, Hannah and Ernest, for posting comments on my last entry. I’m now convinced my writing is of superior quality because two of my coolest Asian friends commented… and I doubt it’s because of any correlation with a decreased literacy rate in my friends of other races.
::quickly slips foot from out of mouth::
Moving on.
So, it’s New Year’s Eve. It’s 6am on New Year’s Eve, and I haven’t gone to bed yet. The idea was to stay up and get a head start on planning my 2008, but I ended up listening to old episodes of This American Life and trying to scrapbook with old gold glittery puff paint and decoupage gel. It looks quite retarded. Maybe I should honor Hannah’s request and hit up Craigslist once again — find some unsuspecting, lonely, and tragically single guy and try to improve his odds with a girl like me [all while never admitting that I'm really more of a girl like him... lonely and tragically single]!
OH — Life’s irony! This all reminds me of a line from The Science of Sleep:
Maybe she has a pattern… she doesn’t want to get hurt, and by that she’s hurting people… and by hurting people she thinks she’s not going to get hurt, but she gets hurt…
Constantly, throughout this Gondry film, I thought… how did he manage to get inside my head, and explain how I feel to me? I’ve spent years trying to explain myself to me, and he summed me up in one long run-on sentence, spoken by a grimey and potentially perverted old man. Truth is, that’s *exactly* who I am [sometimes]: the girl who doesn’t want to get hurt, and ends up hurting people, which ends up hurting me. Or maybe I’m the girl who doesn’t think she’ll get hurt this time, so plays to win, ends up losing, then gives up… until she gets to play again. ORRR maybe I’m the girl who psychs herself out by playing like she’s *not* interested when she *is* because she doesn’t want to freak people out again [like she always does], and in doing so she bored someone to death and they stopped calling altogether. If by chance you’re still reading my insane babbling, and if by chance your name is Hannah… then FYI, I haven’t heard from colored-tank-top boy since that time I told you about.
Yep. I’m being dodged. Possibly because he thinks I’m psycho.
HOLY SHIT!!
MAYBE HE’S READ MY BLOG!!!!
[insert ominous theme music]
So, since men are clearly out of the picture… back to the plan for 2008. Here’s some randomness I just came up with on the fly. In reverse order:
#3 – It would be nice to blog more. Write more. Think more, and do more. I used to consider myself artsy, but I think I suppressed it to be more “normal.” What kind of artist stops their heartbeat so the world won’t identify them as who they really are? Yeah, I need to cut that out. All things art, all things heart, amped up to 110%, where they belong… out on the limb, with only vulnerability to hold on to, and risk to call a friend.
#2 – Do more for you. All of you. Friend or stranger. Live the kinda life you’ll respect and attempt to replicate. Be someone you look up to, confide in, take care of. Trust. Embody the idea of human, and what it means to be real… whole… here. There’s more to this life than we limit our minds into believing. This year, I’m going to help you discover that.
#1 – Change the world.
What’s on your list?
[P.S. I'm so drunk with sleep right now. If this post made no sense, I blame it on sleepiness. If it happened to be phenomenally profound, it's b/c I'm a genius. You know this. C'mon now. psh]
Yeah, I know… [insert tiniest-violin-in-the-world here]. I’ve since replaced him with McKenzie, a plant of the exact same species I’ve decided is female instead. I have yet to take pix of her, but when I do, I promise they will be tasteful.