So it appears that my prayers to the blog gods have been answered. I'm talking of course about being romantically involved with someone. This may seem as if it's coming out of nowhere, but it most definitely isn't. I feel a bit awkward blogging about my personal life, but this is something I just need to get out. So the story goes: I was seeing this guy during the summer and since we've had a bit of a falling out. Before this, I met his roomate and we became fast friends. After guy A and I stopped talking much, guy B and I started hanging out, but completely platonically. At the time, B had a boyfriend. Even so, there was undeniable chemistry. So to sum it up, B broke up with his boyfriend (not because of me!) and we started hanging out more and "seeing" each other I guess. This all sounds so slutty, but I don't care. The thing is, I am not someone who does commited relationships or monogomy ever. Sure I've had boyfriends, but they never last very long. Even then, those relationships were two years ago. Since then I've dated around, matured, and have learned a lot about myself. Now that I've met D (previously known as B), I can quite honestly see something more serious happening. I think I'm ready for it. I'm a bit scared because I have trouble opening up, but I think I'm ready for some stability.
Dating is so ridiculous though. The two people involved are always nervous to impress the other person and do not neccesarily act like themselves all the time. With me, I had a bout of paranoia over the past few days, worried about the status of our...thing, when in fact everything seems to be just fine.
This post seems jumbled and awkward, just like the situation. Goodnight.
I have been a fan of Katy Perry since seeing her video for the song "Ur So Gay" over a year ago. From the beginning, I could tell she was sassy little spitfire, much like myself. I immediately bought her EP Ur So Gay, realeased in 2007, which also featured a remix of the title track, the song "Lost", and my newfound anthem "Use Your Love". Time passed and I continued following this quirky young singer faithfully. I believe it was spring when I first heard "I Kissed a Girl" on suprisingly enough, 107.7 The End, Seattle's biggest alternative station. We all know how that turned out, becoming the #1 overplayed song of all time aside from some Rihanna shit. *Giggle* I will even admit to being annoyed after hearing it 130891340814 times, but I can listen to it now without any such annoyance. The storm has calmed.
Her debut CD as Katy Perry (believe it or not she put out a Christian album years ago under the name Katy Hudson) was relased on June 17, 2008. I bought it on the same day. One of the Boys rapidly became my summer soundtrack. I listened to it constantly, and plugged it to my friends as much as possible. The album covers everything. Did I mention she writes all of her own songs? Happy, sad, angry, or "Lost" (clever, I know), there's a song for just about every situation. Katy played Warped tour later, though I was not able to/didn't feel like going. I would have loved to see her show, but I didn't want to spend all that money and have to deal with going to good old George, Washington. I hoped for a tour, with a stop in Seattle, of course. I got just that when she announced the Hello Katy Tour sometime in the fall. I alerted my best friend Gillian as soon as I heard, and bought two tickets the very second they came out. Last night, was the show.
After a long week of the suckfest of senior year, it was perfect. Gill, dressed in a cute blue dress, spandex, and chucks and I in a ridiculous gold sequined shirt, black jeans, and vans arrived downtown a little while after 6. Doors were going to be opened at 7, and there was already a line full of mostly tweens, their parents, random old people, and teengaers around the block. We waited in the cold, practically naked for the conditions, for an hour or so and then went in. The opening band was a bit, lame, but it was all ok. We were going to see Katy Perry after all...
She came out, adorable as ever, in a sparkly pink bustier and black pantaloons, looking like a glam ballerina. The first song she played, "Fingerprints" is a inspirational little rockfest about leaving your mark on those around you. During the song, she POINTED AT ME! I felt like a fourteen year-old girl at a boy band concert in the early 2000s. I wanted to melt. I screamed in Gillian's general direction. She sang to me two or three other times, making the show all the better for me. I sang every word, while many others who had come for "I Kissed a Girl" and "Hot N Cold" just stood their like idiots. I won't lie, most of the crowd was pretty lame other than the playing of those songs and a couple other dancey tracks. It didn't even bother me. One most likely drunk girl and her friend were up front, and the girl chooses to dance all up on me. It was a good laugh, as you could tell by my shirt that I was most definitely uninterested, but I applauded her exhibition. The two drunks left early, and she told me "I want you to have it", meaning the spot. I was overjoyed, exclaiming "Thanks babe!" I was the hardcore fan I am, dancing and jumping up and down, trying my best to lose my voice. Katy danced, jumped, rubbed herself, played the guitar like a motherfucker, and flirted with an unamused bodyguard. She was fantastic even while she wasn't playing. She told hilarious stories and made silly jokes, not abstaining from using her dirty mouth or making raunchy gestures just because there were kids present. She even provided sound advice and assurance before the bonus track "I Think I'm Ready" telling the crowd that love is an incredible thing that we will all find one day. She went backstage after that, as if it were over. Some people even thought she was done without playing "I Kissed a Girl". What a joke.
She came out dressed in a tight leopard-print catsuit, which even had a tail! Cat ears and Fuck Me Pumps topped off the look. She played a cover, took off her shoes and closed with "I Kissed a Girl". Everyone was dancing, screaming, making fools out of themselves. It was amazing. I was lucky enough to purchase a $30 for $29 and then we exited into the cold world. Gill and I took a detour to Capitol Hill, went to MacDonald's on the way home, and feasted in baggy sweats at her house. In bed, we talked about everything, like good friends do. This night was perfect.
Update: Here's a picture from the show, stolen from Miz Perry's MySpace. So cute.
Barack Obama's Inaguration was four days ago, but I have yet to post anything about it. I am so full of hope by this man's election that I could explode. For once in my life, I appreciate the govenment. I sincerely hope that Obama brings our country the CHANGE he has promised, and I wish him the best of luck. His historical election fills me with hapiness. I've had it will old white guys. It is lovely to see the country start to edge out from shadow of traditionalism and prejudice. Just one request Barack: Get behind the new civil rights movement. The LGBT community is counting on you. This is an incredible thing to see (stolen from Katy Perry's blog): It makes it all the more real.
Beyonce sings Etta James' "At Last" at the Neighborhood Ball on Inauguration night.
Perfect. The appreciation Beyonce shows in her face is absolutely priceless. If only I could understand how that felt...
Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough. From Jagged Little Pill, Alanis Morissette's "Perfect" sarcastically imitates the expectations imposed on us by our parents.
Sometimes is never quite enough If you're flawless, then you'll win my love Don't forget to win first place Don't forget to keep that smile on your face
Be a good boy Try a little harder You've got to measure up And make me prouder
How long before you screw it up How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up With everything I do for you The least you can do is keep quiet
Be a good girl You've gotta try a little harder That simply wasn't good enough To make us proud
I'll live through you I'll make you what I never was If you're the best, then maybe so am I Compared to him compared to her I'm doing this for your own damn good You'll make up for what I blew What's the problem...why are you crying
Be a good boy Push a little farther now That wasn't fast enough To make us happy We'll love you just the way you are If you're perfect
Ahhh, the Beatles. Surely, they knew everything. Today I had the oddest urge. I just wanted to hold some one's hand. Of course, not just any one's hand, but someone I had some type of romantic relationship with. I guess for other people this isn't that odd, but I am not a relationship/love/romantic-type at all. In fact, I often find myself afraid of love. Now, I'm not saying I want to be IN LOVE, I just think having someone for once would be nice. Therein lies a problem. Sure, I like someone. I like more than one someone, but I do not foresee anything forming with these people for various reasons that will not be disclosed. As I write this, I'm hear myself sounding like the same whiny, dependant people I despise. Just to be clear, I am writing solely due to a physical desire that coincidentally most often happens among people with emotional attachment. I think I may be contradicting myself. That is where I stop. Agyness and some dude* in VOGUE. My subscription ended over a month ago and I haven't yet renewed. I need to go pick up a copy. :)
Note: "some dude" turns out to be Albert Hammond Jr. He is Agyness Dey's fiancee and a guitarist in the band The Strokes. Model-Rocker love is so perfectly cliche.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
It's been a while since I've posted, but for good reason. An amazing guy, William Somota, was hit by a drunk driver, sent to the hospital in critical condition, and died the following day. I believe it was the 4th. I don't know William all that well. He went to school with me until he graduated and I would see him here and there. Even so, I was very shocked and upset by the news of his passing. Every time I saw him, he would be unbelievably sweet and always accepting. I saw him for New Years at our friend Jessie's house. He was so happy, playing guitar, that infectious smile spread across his face. A perfect night to remember him by.
Today was his funeral.
Dressed in black, Julie and I politely pushed ourselves into a building at Bonney Watson funeral home. The place was packed. Parking took at least twenty minutes. The ceremony was difficult to hear, some of it not even being in English (William's family is from Laos). His best friends and family spoke of their memories and experiences, causing plenty of tears from those listening. After the ceremony and walking by his open casket, I broke down walking with Julie on the way to the car. I cried once briefly before this, but I've felt mostly numb since William's death.
Life is unfair. It's unfortunate that some one's life can be so swiftly taken from them. For William's sake, I hope there is a god. He deserves eternal life, if there is such a thing.
R.I.P. William Somota. You will not be forgotten. Love you dude.
Listening to Extraordinary Machine made me think of my favorite song by Fiona Apple called "Criminal". The video is incredible too. Raw, Sexy, Perfect.
It is now 2009, the year I graduate. Even so, I don't feel like anything is different, nor do I have any particularly significant new years resolutions. Today was my last day working at Normandy Park Athletic. Quitting my job was part of a resolution, I guess. I feel that school needs to be my focus. We shall see how that goes...
I spent some of last night at my friend Sam's house for some good clean fun. After 10 I was at a lovely girl named Jessie's casa for a more illegal party. The night was a great time. I even got hit in the head with a hot dog. I didn't know many people at Jessie's, but I love meeting new people and making new friends, which is exactly what I did. My New Years kiss was with the female me, a girl named Leandra, who coincidentally lives in the same Capital Hill apartment building as a couple guys I know. I'm not a girl-kisser often, but this innocent peck made perfect sense. I think I remember Ado, Jessie's brother, giving me a smooch just for good measure. After many went home, I spent some quality time with Jessie's toilet, involuntarily ridding myself of the entire contents of my stomach. I'm good at taking care of myself.
I went to bed on the sofa, without a blanket, freezing and dreaming of deserted grocery stores and a physical fight with one of my best friends, Julie. After waking for the 5th time, I drove home (sober), went back to bed for a few hours, and then went to work at 3. My last day was strange, but pleasant. Visits to my former place of employment will be happening in the near future.
I'm not sure what I want or expect for this year, but I look forward to watching my life unfold. I am very lucky. I'm surrounded by fabulous people who love me and will soon be fleeing the coop to start life on my own. This might be heaven.
I'm sitting here, with an enormous cup of vegan black bean soup (Vegan other than the cheese I sprinkled on. I'm not actually vegan. Technically a Pescetarian [one who doesn't eat meat products other than fish.] Fuck off PETA, I like sushi.) and a towering glass of OJ, so utterly happy I can hardly contain myself. I thought that the first blog after returning home from Christmas in Spokane would be a rant, but this one is most definitely a rave. My trip to Spokane had its moments full of misery (such as a very, very cold "Christmas Cruise" in Idaho) and angst towards various family members, but I had a good experience overall. One highlight was sledding IN THE WOODS with my brother and three other, older relatives, all who would be considered age-inappropriate for such activity. I didn't think it was possible to have fun with these people, and it turns out I was wrong.
Christmas night, my Aunt Karma and Uncle Bill threw a dinner party for almost 50 guests. Not only was the food delicious, but the conversation was fantastic. There's something to be said about being treated as an adult. An exuberant older woman named Scooter, who wore a black jacket with pink glitter all over it, talked politics and ambitions with me. The young soul showed love and gave me her best wishes, despite no actual relation. Next was a woman named Kelly, who has truly lived a life. Conversation started as a result of my possession of a glass of wine (AFTER Grandma had left of course!) and my surprise at her age. The vision of a woman has done almost every drug in the book, besides of angel dust and heroin because of the way they "fuck people up", and as Karma said, "fucks everything that moves" discussed life, sex, love, among other things with me, and believe it or not, was incredibly inspirational. After Kelly came a potentially life-changing conversation with my beautiful, amazing aunt, Karma. We talked about her past, her divorce, finding Bill, and the oppression of her mother, my grandmother. Her advice on love, though seemingly obvious, will forever be in my thoughts. Time passed and people went home. The night ended with my parents, aunt, uncle, and myself in the living room listening to Amy Winehouse. As if out of a movie, I was drunkenly dancing to "Rehab" (and the rest of Wino's Back to Black) and snacking on Gummy Bears (not vegetarian). I went to bed fulfilled, and not because I drank alcohol among knowing family. The following day, we left. Driving through Hangman Valley, the remote area my aunt and uncle live in, was a visual feast. The snow covered the hills and wheat fields, appearing to be a bright white desert untouched by man. What followed was a long trip home and a depressing realization that I had no one to hang out with. Thankfully my best friend, Gillian was available to be a listener and supplier of unhealthy treats.
This morning I woke up and went to Bellevue Square with the darling Annie to spend hard-earned Christmas cash. Our day there included overspending, an unfortunately unaccomplished cowboyish boots for her, a lovely little lunch at the Nordstrom Cafe, and a long search for the car in the parking garage. We then went downtown, where I indulged at Urban Outfitters, failed again in our boot search, and visited the wonderful and fabulous Dustin at the Dior makeup counter. Through overcrowded elevators and long lines, we escaped to West Seattle, where I was dropped off to see my dear friend Nina.
The two of us were finally getting to see Milk, after complications resulting from snow. The movie was utterly brilliant, inspiring, and extremely sad. The Egyptian theater felt like a united symphony of sobbing and sniffling. It doesn't hurt that James Franco is hot shit. My adventures with Nina are always interesting and exciting and this one certainly wasn't lacking. I experienced a bout of "pee-shyness" and had to come out of the bathroom and return, despite my exploding bladder. Our night ended with Prodigy's "Smack my Bitch up" and a goodbye hug.
Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to finish the last hour of Sex and the City: The Movie, which I will proudly admit to watching approximately three times over the past week or so. Goodnight lovers and friends.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
So I'm sitting here listening to the lovely Amy Winehouse, packed for a long drive to Spokane, WA to visit some family. For whatever reason, I'm completely miserable. Family vacations are not exactly my idea of fun, but I'm so far beyond my usual grumpy self. My mom asked me if I was depressed today. I didn't really say no. It was more like, "What kind of question is that?" I am not a person to admit it when I need help. I usually just like to figure things out on my own. I don't know...Anyway, I might not be blogging until I return home. I'm staying with my aunt and uncle and they kinda live off the grid. Don't let my mood get you down. Happy Holidays Everyone!
Starting tonight, I have begun re-reading a favorite book of mine, Fear of Flying by Erica Jong. Published in 1973, the book was a staple in Sexual Revolution literature. The novel is passionate, uninhibited, and truely amazing. But to the point, a passage I just read really grabbed me. Miss Jong and I seem to have a similar thought process, set of ideas, and set of values. She writes: "Nobody bothered to tell you what marriage was really about. You weren't even provided, like European girls, with a philosophy of cynicism and practicality. You expected not to desire any other men after marriage. And you expected your husband not to desire any women. Then the desires came and you were thrown into a panic of self-hatred. What an evil woman you were! (Jong 10)"
Not too long ago, in my Theory of Knowledge class, we were discussing happiness througout the world, and America was said to be "most happy". I brought up the idea that Americans are sort of expected to be happy, to live a perfect life. I kind of feel like everyone, well not everyone, many people in America are far too idealistic, not seeing the truth. This passage made me think of that...
If you're not afraid of a few four letter words, and some graphic writing about sex, you should really pick Fear of Flying up. It's not just about sex, though sex is a significant part of the novel because it has the ability to define our relationships with other people. Back to reading...
I'm just a 21 year-old boy, trying to make it in the real world, whilst creating my own reality. I try to find beauty in all things and love exploring this big world of ours. While I am a journalist, this does not represent my journalistic work unless otherwise specified.
