Preppy is the New Hipster

and I don't mean it in the way people from California say cool. I mean I am actually sick again. It sucks.

I just went to the gym instead. Larry Diamond has a mustache, gross, facial hair.

but are Larry Diamonds? To keep my brain from atrophying, I am trying to keep it involved with academic pursuits, at least superficially. I mean lets be honest, I could say that I am going to see this accomplished academic speak about democracy building because I am genuinely concerned with the development of what I believe to be the most humane political condition for people to live grow and excel in would be a total stretch. I want to go for the same reason that George Michael wants to see GOB make the yacht disappear, because its a big awesome mind puzzle. No, not in theory, in practice. I wish Gob was my date.

Last night was fun. I am surprized. I had intended on being anti-social. That didn't workout. The evening started with dinner at Sushi Taro with Mere. We ate an obscene amount sushi, it was delicious, not the fermented soybeans.
We probably offended some people in the restaurant, sometimes it is hard for me to leave a public place without offending someone. Oh well.

We came home and picked up Dave and Pamela and went to a party, I think it is fair to say that we made the party.

Then we went to a bar called the Reef. Diana was there. She rules.

Afterwards we had a dance party at our house, we danced to Scissor Sisters and for some reason, my beret is stuck in the chandeller. Kurt came up and yelled at us. I feel a little bad about it, but not too bad.

You have been reading my blog. I do check my site meter.

(I should probably be ashamed of this, but I'm not. I write this blog for some sort of annonymous self validation, and for free therapy, and because I think I am funny. So I guess I am supposed to check my site meter, if I wanted to write down my feelings, etc and not have anyone read them, I would write in a diary, and keep it locked under my bed, next to my mirror, razors and cut up pens(that is a joke-see I am funny). (Do children write in diarys still or are they a thing of the past like discmans?))

Unknown County, I am mostly just interested because I would like to be an unknown country as well. How does one accomplish such anonminity?

Like many women that I know I think think and rethink my relationships to a point where they end up one big jumbled mess in my cute little head. I tend to confuse, physical intimacy with emotional intimacy. I tend to confuse my desires to find the perfect partner with the person I happen to be with at the moment. I tend to confuse my individuality with the picture of person I think they might want me to be. I tend to confuse people with similar tastes, at least in film, and general style as being suited for each other emotionally.

Is this emotional immaturity? Is this a case of just not knowing myself well enough? Is this something inside of me saying that I should wait longer before becoming intimate (physically, emotionally, what is the difference?) with someone. I’m not sure. I used to be very insecure with this deluge of emotions that seems to pour down on me at any given time. But that has changed. Recently a friend paid me a really nice compliment, she said that she found my honesty about my emotions comforting and endearing, comforting because she knows she will never be as crazy as I am. That was pretty much the nicest thing I have heard in a while.

I spoke a while ago about embracing my emotional wardrobe, oddly enough after the first time I ended it with RSK. I am comfortable with it. I know that I got back into this pseudo or quasi relationship with RSK because I told myself I was happy with the time I got to spend with him. I was, and he was, but I wanted more, and he didn’t. End of Story.

Once again, I am embracing my emotional wardrobe, but I don’t want to dwell on it. I am going to fill my life with the things I want to do, graduate school, films, arts, friends. So not to ignore my feelings, but I know those feelings, I have had them all before. At a certain point in my life, I decided to stop doing certain things because I knew what it felt like, and I didn’t want to feel that way(sorry to be so cryptic). Emotions are harder to control, but for now I will keep them in check, and look to the other things around me because when you think about it, I really am one lucky bastard.

Im going to one next Wednesday. I am hoping to get some sweet avant-garde fashion tips from starving Somalians. My roommate might come to meet some fair trade models. The really sad part is that the entire audience, less one, will be wearing the newest style from Ann Taylor Loft.

There is nothing like a fur hat to help you get over an old lover. I think it is made out of rabbit. I love rabbits!

yeah, it hurts.

So I am bored at work and bored with the idea of writing about things I do not love about DC. It is just going to make me want to jump off the Woodrow Wilson Bridge.

Lets talk about something different Florida, Florida Culture. I mean I am immediately inclined to think that Florida culture is made up strictly of White Trash and Gay Cubans. I know this is not fair, but no one from Florida reads this, and they would probably think it is funny anyway. I was reading Forbes today and Florida has rank in seven positions on the list of top 25 cities for undergraduates to move to post college. I mean I guess Ashton Kusher really brought back the white trash look (you know that foam and mesh hat thing), but I didn’t think everyone in college was a gay Cuban or white trash, but hey I didn’t have a lot of friends in college, so maybe I am wrong.

Oh and sorry for forgetting about the white hairs. Florida has got a lot of those too.
Well good for Florida they have really been trying to attract the young crowd by cutting income taxes for so long, and they have all of these weird tax shelter laws and such, ie that is why OJ moved there so the Goldmans couldn’t get his money. So I guess that is good for Florida, but please let me know the next time you see anyone normal that is not in Palm Beach County or Collier County. Then I might consider Florida to be a state for me, but hey I am easily swayed and I do love grapefruits.

Okay so there is this website is running this bit about the top 5 reasons why people who contribute and read their website love dc. I think the kids that run this website are pretensions losers that embrace the base superficiality that they supposedly disdain. Whatevs. Maybe I do it. I do like irony.

5-Local dc politics are so funny that it is probably made fun of on some satirical animated television show, like the simpsons or the family guy. I don’t really watch those shows, but I imagine they would capture the absolute hilarity of a city like mine that adores a crack smoking mayor and had funny inside jokes about the utter uselessness of organized government in ¾ths of the city. CSNA, Phil Spalding and Lynn Coffin play a starring role in this category as well.

4-E street Cinema-now I know that if I lived in a real city(New York, LA, London) the movie theater options would be way better, but hey ill take what I can get. They have most(not all) of the artsy-fartsy, indy-shimdy shit that I like, and I like Stella Artois, and I always have one which for me is very enjoyable.

3-Riding my bicycle everywhere, and almost year round is a big perk. Plus I don’t really have to wear a helmut, which makes me feel cool. DC is also just hilly enough so I can get a bit of exercise and get a little sweaty.

2-Sundays are family days-Brunches, HBO, hangovers, friends, family, soup.

1-Neighborhood set up makes it really easy for me to judge people-the douchebags of the Gtown; the hipsters of Columbia heights; the gays of Dupont; the staffers of the hill; not to mention NE, SE, and SW. It all makes it so convenient for me to engage me one of my favorite pastimes. Oh also, lets not forget NOVA and Maryland, yuck.

Please see tomorrow installment for 5 reasons I do not love DC.

I just WON a fur hat on ebay. I am so excited. Now all I have to do is find my Dr. Zhivago.

Two things which I would normally want on Valentines day are making me sick to my stomach just to think about. I am sick. I think it’s the flu, my doctor friends told me it probably was. I am taking antibiotics already-thank god some experimenting in college has made me less reactive to taking pills from a bottle that doesn’t bear my name. Anyway thoughts of sex, caviar, and champagne are not doing much for me at all right now. I can barely keep my eyes open, my body is so sore it feels like I have just run a marathon and my tastes and olfactory senses are no where to be found.

That Anna Nicole Smith is the new Tupac Shakur. I certainly hope that she continues to make fantastic diet pill commerials long after her death.

I

have no idea who

<----this girl is. I know I have seen her before, but what was she doing at my house. I probably even said hello to her in a familiar way. I hope she A-doesn't know who I am B-doesn't read my blog and C-never comes near me in the future.

This thought swept over me on Sunday when I was visiting one of my favorite places to think freely in town, the Hirshorn. It was a good visit. I was hungover and feeling pensive, and the museum was mostly empty and the new installation isn’t up yet, so I felt no pressure to be in the know. The visit was nice, I let myself misbehave I visited the museum shop first, visited what surely is my favorite public bathroom in town. I made commitment to myself to make my visit to the museum a modern performance piece in itself. I danced a little while no one was looking, I struck a pose in front of my favorite Mondrian. I embraced the complexity between organic structures and chemical structures, which in fact are one in the same. I made someone fall in love with me, by pretending to be interesting. One of the best parts was sitting in an open room with a large window looking out onto lots of federal looking buildings. I made fart noises with my mouth, and watched people walk through a piece sitting in plain sight. It was a fun hour. Ultimately I did come to a depressing conclusion, I am an impressionist painting trapped with an overwhelming longing to be a neoplastic.

So, I know that I hold the largely ceremonial role of the Clean and Green Comittee chair on my (former) neighborhood association, but I am soo sick of these environmentalists making this dramatic preamble to something they have told us, time and time again. Today's big revelation: humans cause global warming. Thats right folks you heard it! Not only do humans cause global warming, but with our big SUVs and our wet-dreams of never-ending oil, we are even killing people to cause global warming. Whose fault is it? Well mostly the US, clearly right. Those chinese don't seem to be doing anything to help it either. I mean just think of the CFC's those millions of crazy dog-beating chinese put into the atmosphere. Anyway who wants to point fingers? Me. I blame God?

I don't know, maybe I am a fatalist, but one day the earth will cease to exsist, and I am sure by that time the Lruthbridge line with me a thing of the past(considering the possibility of me procreating in the first place--> not very high).

Bjorn Lomborg's The Skeptical Environmentalist , le piece de la resistance for the neocons in office who would rather spend time and energy killing people to make global warming, is a highly reccomendable read, it you want to justify to yourself that global warming is about as interesting news as the democrats opposing war. I mean, duh.

P.S. I hope that I get lots of nasty responses from my green liberal friends, who drive SUVs. HaHa.

Is it wrong/rude to leave my own housewarming party to go see a film? The Killing, my favorite Kubrick(well maybe second favorite) is playing at the AFI, and really who knows the next time I'll be able to see it on the big screen. Actually, I just don't know if I am in the mood to be a gracious host. No, wait. I know I am not in the mood. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to do the cost/benefit analysis on the spot. Though, getting toasted and saying something nasty to someone I might care about, could be more damaging than just acting like an anti-social recluse, right?