September 2014

Happy things // [heard around town]

Good Wednesday!

This is one of those composite, short posts, one of those mind dumps of pleasant things to jot down in virtual memory -- a compost if you will. [cue the groans]

Like one of those benign, only mildly creepy individuals who like to retire from the forefront of the world, and simply watch the world from behind the heavy velvet curtain - a group often known as writers, of which I'd like to someday be a part - I like to people-watch, and even more so, to people-listen.

Not in a creepy, sit-so-close-that-I'm-right-on-top-of-you, purposely snooping way, of course. And not like eavesdropping, with its negative connotations. Mostly, it's about filtering the ambient noises coming from my neighbors in coffee shops and public places, and maybe turning down the music on my ever-present headphones. (In my opinion, if you're talking so loudly that everyone can hear you, it's basically public property)

Occasionally, it's disturbing. Often, it's TMI. Occasionally, it yields wonderful little ditties like this, heard while waiting in line at the register at an store.

You know those kids on the street corner, the ones carrying shoeboxes of candy bars and fruit snacks, with a plastic jar for donations for their basketball teams stuffed beside? You know, the ones you sneak by guiltily, because you

  • 1) don't have cash, 
  • 2) really don't need to have any chocolate or excess sugar lying around
  • 3) their adorable, accusing eyes just weigh on your soul?

source

Or those bent little ladies, pushing their granny carts down the clattering metal boxes known as the MTA subways, wrinkled paper signs proclaiming "$2" in thick black Sharpie, taped to rumpled cardboard pallets of what must be Costco-style bulk chocolates, or worse, slightly off-putting self-packaged (?) Twizzlers or soft candies or nuts in opaque sandwich bags?

They should have learned a lesson from this woman, who according this cashier girl, apparently wandered into Philadelphia clothing store in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week, hawking her sugary goods.  Maybe not the best place or time to try to sell her goods.

But her business plan?

"Chocolate baa-aars, I'm selling cho-co-late ba-aars!" (just imagine this in a rich, brassy gospel voice, fabulous vocal runs included.)

"We were totally mocking her the whole day," says the cashier girl, while plonking away at the keys of her register, "like, 'Fold those clo-othes, Jess-i-ca pu-leeease!'"

"Yeah," says the teen customer with wildly grown-out crimson streaks in her hair, but who, despite her youth and misguided hair, speaks for us all, "but did you buy anything? Because that's hilarious - I would!"

"I would have!" replies the shopgirl, "But she was asking for two dollars for a chocolate bar, and why would I do that? The Rite Aid down the street sells them for a dollar." 

(Common sense and fiscal responsibility: nice to hear from the mouths of the babes of America, and from salespeople at that.)

But that doesn't deter this spunky street treat-seller.

"Yeah, they might cheaper, but," says this sharp, shark-eyed vendor of snacks, "will they twerk for you?"

Yeah, kind of obsessed with this song via
No -- no they won't.  Someone put this woman on The Apprentice already!

Moral of the story: If you want to make a sale, always offer a little something extra on the side-- particularly if it's a dance move. (It's worth at least a dollar more!)


Other things making me happy this week [watch out for random links below!]:

a. This wonderful, lovely interview with David Mitchell, the British author whose elegiac and widely differing books should be on everyone's reading list, by Kathryn Schulz, whose every article should be on everyone's reading list, too. (She finds ties in his books with Madeleine L'Engle's Chronos & Kairos series - an amazing observation!)

b. This gorgeous short film with Roberto Bolle & Polina Semionova (give it a chance even if you're not a fan of ballet - this could change your mind. I'll twerk for you if you watch!)




c. This hilarious interview of our favorite, curiously work-unimpeded OB-GYN Mindy Kaling, by it-girl/observer of our generation Lena Dunham, and these golden quotes:

  • Dunham: “I love seeing women stand up for things they believe in, teach their daughters how to do the same, prepare meals out of whatever they have in their fridges, wear helmets when they ride their bikes, call BS when they see it, and accept that feminism comes in a lotta different forms.”

  • Kaling: “I love women who are bosses and who don’t constantly worry about what their employees think of them. I love women who don’t ask, ‘Is that OK?’ after everything they say. I love when women are courageous in the face of unthinkable circumstances, like my mother when she was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer. Or like Gabrielle Giffords writing editorials for the New York Times about the cowardice of Congress regarding gun laws and using phrases like ‘mark my words’ like she is Clint Eastwood. How many women say stuff like that? I love mothers who teach their children that listening is often better than talking. I love obedient daughters who absorb everything — being perceptive can be more important than being expressive."

d. This cover of "All About That Bass" - the original song offends me musically and lyrically, a little bit, but the existence of this fabulous cover by the fabulously husky voiced Emily Davis covers a multitude of the original song's sins, and makes it so much better.


e. A little good news in troubling times: so glad to see something being done - finally - about the Ebola outbreak, and so proud that someone I know is involved in this cause!

à bientôt, mes chéris! /c

Motivation: Seasonal, Internal, and Lack Thereof, or What I Did This Summer


It’s been an unusually full and fulfilling summer, and it shows in the utter absence of entries in this blog. 

Have you found that the more intriguing or engaging your external life is, the more other things and people act upon you, the less time you have for your internal life (ruminating, reflecting, daydreaming)? I’ve recently noticed this pattern in my own life.

Always good advice. via

In the winter, confined by lack of sunlight and utter inertia to the four corners of my room, I live almost entirely in my head (and under the covers in my bed). There’s no one and no where for external distraction or filtering, so all random thoughts, snarky complaints, and sarcasms rapidly build up until it finds release in the only readily available space: the limitless pixelated expanse of my computer screen.

via
Winter is my time for hibernation, daydreaming, and voracious reading under mounds of warm blankets. It’s also when, in a less romantic and much less admirable fashion, my bandwidth usage increases exponentially, because either Hulu, Netflix, or Amazon Prime is on almost every waking minute in an effort to improve upon dreariness of everyday life by either:
  • 1) sheer fantasy 
    • -A hospital in which male OBGYNs outnumber females, and are somehow all incredibly attractive! 
    • -A world where cute-meets at a photo booth in a Parisian metro station is possible, and stealing someone's personal property and making him go through a city-wide scavenger hunt to get it back comes across as charming, ends up well, and is not extremely creepy/dangerous!

Pretty sure this only works when 1) you're Audrey Tautou, and 2) in movies. via
  • OR
  • 2) by comparison 
    • -A pre-plumbing world where all your favorite characters get killed off with excessive gore and violence! 
    • -A turn-of-the-20th century hospital where suction and surgical gloves have yet to be invented, and every surgeon is racist, addicted to cocaine, maniacally egotistical, or all of the above! (well, that last part - still potentially true).

Egotistical, but funny. via
Scrubbing isn't what it used to be. via

This can still potentially happen these days... via






Entrails, on the nails. No glove, but surgical love. via










Likewise, in the winter of my discontent, a.k.a. When Life is Positively Sucking, I’ve also found myself unable to rouse for anything but wallowing in a cesspool of pictures of perfectly arranged baked goods, inspirational quotes, and perfect lives; descriptions of vacations in far-away places; and ink on pages depicting imaginary heroines, fictional worlds, endless reiterations of Mr Darcy - basically living in vitro in novels, glossy magazines, and that infinite and delusional rabbit hole known as Tumblr/Pinterest/blogs/the Internet as a whole.


via

But then! - arrives the spring, summer, and fall, when the world comes out to play, and the sun is bright, and every other open green space in the city holds some sort of beer garden, or free movie night, or DJ Deejay dance party, or former celebrity now in a poorly named band - ah! Life!

This is not a time for moody and quiet contemplations, typing of snarky comments on websites, or sedate flipping through pages of books. This is a time for gleeful frolicking, outdoor city exploring, spastic white-girl dancing without care to mind-numbingly STUPID summer hits incessantly stuck in your head. 

A really good summer song! Some really bad dancing... via

All thoughts simply dissipate from the brain - partly from overwhelming heat and dehydration, partly from delight - and creative inspiration is but a dream you won’t be having because you've stayed out until 4 am. 

But the earth turns, time is a flat circle, and winter is coming. And so, as days become shorter, and all thought processes, serious motivation, sarcastic observations, music obsessing, online trawling, and new episodes of TV shows once again return, so follows the explosive mental overflow known as my blog posts, for better or for worse.  


In other words, welcome back!

via

Back to Top