10 things I hate about you

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE? I remember that we had this movie at my house for a little while when I was younger, but I never watched it. Why??? I confess that I became engulfed in the 1999 music, and the fervor of young love. Oh Heath. This movie made the agony of his death all the more potent. I love him, so so much. And Joseph Gordon-Levitt - love him and his pre-pubescent self. And nerdy David Krumholtz, what a guy. 

I was nine when this movie came out. Far too young to actually appreciate all the adolescent idiosyncrasies. Although watching it did remind me a bit of high school. Granted, I realize that I've been out just over a year, but - although there was no one of Heath Ledger's stature (this is me swooning) - the backbiting and swearing and . . . drama I guess, ring familiar with my memories at MHS. It's just weird to be past that. All those teen movies are about kids in high school, and now I'm too old for that (well, no I'm not) but I'm not to old to admit that I rather liked the movie.

the year of magical thinking

I considered posting only after I've finished, and I still will, but I wanted to put it out there that I'm actually going for it. You know that which has been the title of my blog for . . . ever, will now have some actual grounds for legitimacy. Looking back on why I even named it that takes me to a place from my past that I don't mind revisiting. High school wasn't terribly painful for me at all, for what it was, I didn't mind - only I have no desire to return. But this takes me back to my junior year of AP english with Mr. Bell (who was a striking fusion of christian bale and joey from full house.) I loved that class, not many people did (frankly this is often the case, when everybody hates the workload/subject, i love it, and vice versa. i confess that the anti-conformist tuggings at my heart may have a small bit to play in this recurring pattern in my life.) 

Anyway, that's beside the point. In this class we read Joan Didion's Slouching Towards Bethlehem (and Amusing Ourselves to Death by Postman, check it out. my copy got ruined; i usually took my book with me to do laundry, and so she found a quaint little position in the corner of my laundry bag . . . and she got doused in a wayward bottle - sticky but smellin' sweet.) Sorry, distracted, but we read the book, a collection of essays, and rachel and i were smitten. we couldn't put it down. I read it on a plane ride (don't remember where) and carried it around like a badge of honor. Joan Didion understood how I felt about life. The way she articulated her thoughts on the sixties, and on people, and on drugs, and on howard hughes. Sheer brilliance. Well, I became a fan, to say the least. I looked into her other books (apparently, though i don't really remember doing this) and found the title of one of her other books. 

Ensuite, rachel and I decided to get blogs, that sounds weird - we decided to create blogs, and our titles came from a predictable source. First rachel set up her own, "notes from a native daughter" not surprisingly the title of an essay from slouching. Next the rachels blog - "on keeping a notebook" again, from slouching. And finally, I decided to call mine "a year of magical thinking." At the time I didn't really know that it was in fact the year, but for me, it was a year before I was going to college, and I figured I'd need magical thoughts to get me to that point. And then I considered changing it, as I'd gotten past that year, but then it was a year before I would be going to Paris, and it stuck. I confess I've felt very nonplussed about the title for a long time, but after reading the book (surprise surprise, the only way i can get past the shame of having not read it until this point is that i'm reading it now) I'm finding new inspiration and meaning and prevalence, into which I'll delve further once all is done. 

Anyway, I'm planning on finishing her off tonight at work (and no, I haven't finished anna karenina, so get off my back, it'll happen . . . soon .  . . eventually. don't worry) and bask in the glory of Didion. My love for her has been rekindled. If ever I were to become a writer, which still appeals to me in a small way, Joan Didion deserves some credit. She inspires me. She inspires my magical thinking.

Got all the way through.

I'll admit it, I couldn't leave. It was so well done. It was pretty slinky, but really well done. Well utilized amount of flesh I'd say. Strange, but usually I'm pretty sensitive to those kinds of things (which is kinda funny considering I've worn some scanty costumes myself, but nonetheless.) But every time it occurred to me to leave, I wanted to stay, and I'm glad I did. Really well done, and by the way, these women are gorgeous. 

I miss dancing, a lot. I miss it all, and I need to get back into it all somehow. Tony's are this weekend. I know nothing. Maybe some research later.

i've been thinking

a} about how perturbed i am by my internet that is not only wicked WICKED slow, but also decides to cut out at rather inopportune times

b} those crepes look really good, but i have no more eggs

c} i was in high school one year ago. how much has happened since then. oh la. part of me misses it a bit, but i don't really long to go back. pas du tout. yet here i am. if you'd asked me on may 28th 2008, when i was living happily at 336, dallying along at mhs where my greatest concern was securing my valedict. spot, what i'd be doing in 365 days, i probably wouldn't have answered "oh, living on my own, making crepes, working at the bookstore, getting ready to go to paris" no-siree. 

And yet here i am. doing exactly those things. life is strange, très étrange. which gets me thinking, what will i be doing 365 days from now? what will may 2010 hold eh? i don't know. boy my life is very exciting. full of potential, not currently slashed by past decisions or mistakes. i could be anything 365 days from now. anything. really. i have no major yes, but that also means that i have limitless potential. limitless. (forgive my repetition, it is for the sake of emphasis, but i can't help feeling like miss bates.) but the sentiment is true. i only hope that the potential that has been storing up can become kinetic, and ooze out in some productive fashion.

d} how much i'm enjoying dirty projectors, and

e} again, faulty internet

f} i ought to put on my running shoes now, because let's face it, i can be anyone i want to be. 

anyone . . .

J'ai retourne

I'm back from dear 336. I saw this picture on a jaunt to the grocery. Those three digits have come to mean more to me than any other. They'll probably stay with me forever.