Archive for the 'The object of my obsession' Category

The rules of engagement

September 8, 2008 | Filed under: The object of my obsession

Now with bonus head-exploding addendum!

“When I was a boy I was told that anybody could become President; I’m beginning to believe it.” ~Clarence Darrow

I’m 24 and I could probably tell the average 34 year old more about politics in 30 minute pedicure session all the while blissfully reading this week’s US Weekly and interjecting with my thoughts on Speidi after flipping each page. I’m not an expert on politics; electoral, congressional, presidential, gubernatorial, none of it, but I feel like I need to say very slowly to some members of our studio audience that there are people - me - who actually go to school to study the science of politics and then they end up with careers in that particular field. There are actual people in the world who discuss politics each and every single day to the point where if they go home and have to read the regurgitated, hyperbolic, misinformed bullshit from people who suddenly decided to pick up the newspaper - apologies, it’s 2008, so by ‘newspaper’ I mean blog - then their heads will explode. Death by Ignorance.

And while I commend people for taking the time to now get informed on issues that others have been engrossed in for decades, I don’t appreciate taking a stance on an issue based on a wikipedia entry or deciding on who to vote for because someone sports the same genitalia that you sport.

Yesterday evening I got angry. Like irate over the presence of a photo on Flickr of a McPalin sign. Which is fine, if you agree with someone on the issues then that is fine but don’t then get huffy and menacing and have your wittle baby feelings hurt when people start to question you or offer dissenting opinions. Especially if your ‘post’ on why you support them leaves much to be desired. And when people voice their valid opinions and ask you WHY then don’t go off and stomp your feet and say that people are so fucking rude. They aren’t being rude they’re asking questions and if you’re going to broadcast your political affiliation then at least be prepared to answer simple god damn questions.

There are bits and pieces to both candidates that are imperfect and their stances are still being worked out. Fuck, Barack Obama once proudly supported school choice and vouchers but at least I am able to wade through his positions and tell you which onces I can wholeheartedly support and which make me feel like he’s raking his nails across a chalkboard just to see me flinch. And so if McPalin is your choice fine, go right on ahead and vote for them, that’s the great thing about Democracy but be able to back up your reasoning and do not, I repeat do not, get offended when someone tries to tell you otherwise. That’s the great thing about America; people are allowed to argue and fight their point until their blue in the face. But you don’t want to look like some dumbshit who just yesterday discovered television.

All of this angry and need to put my foot down came after a post that Stara wrote that was incendiary even if she didn’t mean for it to be as such but was also well thought out and frankly, I was proud of her for putting herself out there. But the comments she received left my mouth gaping and possibly drooling that people would actually use in an argument “Can you please not offend me personally”. I hope that one day Chuck Todd interviews someone and when he presents that person with a truthful and fair argument I hope that the interviewee stops the interview and says “Um, this argument you’re presenting me with offends my delicate sensibilities, could you please stop?” I hope he does stop and then apologizes and then they hold hands and walk off into the sunset.

I’m going to cut and paste exactly what I told Stara and leave you with this so I can go walk around and breathe and appreciate literacy. I wrote this right before the irritation of utter stupidity caused so much pressure in my head that my brain shot out through my eye sockets and left nostril:

I’m just sick of fucking sanctimonious, self-righteous people who suddenly are interested in politics and think that they are brilliant or know what the fuck they’re talking about. Try doing this every god damn day as a fucking career. If any of these people had to do this for a LIVING, they would be curled up in the fetal position whimpering for their mommies because the mean man made them cry because they couldn’t adequately argue their positions and they keep getting hammered on it. I don’t write about politics and it’s my fucking job. You know why? Because I am an expert in one thing: [redacted]. That is all. So I’m not about to argue any position but I do compliment people who write well thought out posts on a subject that they have clearly researched. But don’t come and comment on those posts with some bullshit because it personally offends you. That’s not what politics is about.

Addendum and I swear I’ll be done after this:

So there’s this chick on Flickr who is all Ra-Ra! McPalin. In her description all she says is that she loves them and loves Sarah Palin the end. When people in her comments section ask why she gets all up in arms because OMFG People had the nerve to ask her a question about why she is supporting who she is supporting. And then she got an attitude with me so I copped an attitude right back saying that it kind of comes with the territory: If you post something political people MIGHT ask why you’re supporting who you are supporting. This was her response back to me:

I’m sorry but stating “no one has given any real reason for
why they like her” is ignorant and then asking me why I do
is insulting.  There are many reasons why I and many others
like her and showing my support doesn’t mean I have to make
a list for other people to respect my choice. I and
disagree that it comes w/the territory. It only comes with
it when those types of personality come into play. I figure
that people who like Obama have learned about him and choose
to like him anyway…I dont ask them why. Do I need to past
a test w/everybody to show I have researched her and
therefore am allowed to like her?

A mile high redux

August 27, 2008 | Filed under: The object of my obsession, Whoopdie Doo

“People are always asking about the good old days. I say, why don’t you say the good now days?” ~Robert M. Young

Contrary to my personal belief; I seem to NOT be a robot. This means that even though my brain is saying, “It would be a brilliant idea to stay up to two am schmoozing and look free beer and look! Pete Wentz” my body is starting to get disgruntle. Denver has just about kicked my ass into the middle of next week and it is only Tuesday. Speaking of Tuesday I had no idea that it was Tuesday until 17 minutes ago. It was a little morning surprise: The days of the week remain in the same order and there are still 24 hours to each one. Amazing.

I’ve been slowly uploading photos from this week to Flickr and upon my return home I’m hoping I’ll be able to absorb and then regurgitate the way in which this week has made me feel. Hopeful doesn’t even begin to describe it. Last night when I walked into the Pepsi Center, I took the escalator up to my seats. I turned around to look at the throngs of people below me and my chest tightened and my heart beat just a little faster. This swelling of emotions coursed through my veins as I realized where I was and why I was here. Politics is a personal thing for me because it is my passion in life. It’s the one thing I love more than writing and to be here and see so many familiar faces (quick digression I have kissed like 89 people on the cheek this week. I will come back with Ebola) and see how far people I’ve known for years have come - to see how far I’ve come - is this high of epic proportions.

It feels good. It feels amazing. For once in my life I’m entirely grateful for a serious ass whooping.

The Boys Are Back In Town

August 1, 2008 | Filed under: The object of my obsession, This side of the Hudson, Whoopdie Doo

“Football is, after all, a wonderful way to get rid of your aggressions without going to jail for it.”  ~Heywood Hale Brown

The other night, G called to tell me that he saw Plaxico Burress in Best Buy. After I stopped convulsing and telling Metalia & J that oh my fucking God, Plax shops at Best Buy and I shop at Best Buy and perhaps I’ll run into him at JCREW; I asked the all important question: What did he buy? Like 20 DVDs and he used a Black Card. Then G told him that this was Cowboys country and I told G that perhaps he shouldn’t disrespect our guests.

Pink and Green*

March 27, 2008 | Filed under: The object of my obsession, Whoopdie Doo

“The J.Crew catalog is aspirational- that’s why. It’s like maybe, just maybe, if I buy the Jackie twinset and the Susan pants with the Bohemian print peep toe heels, I live in the whatever house that is on the cover of the latest one, and my yuppie kids and husband and I will travel to Maine in our vintage Mercedes and eat lobster, while our son Rowan runs around in his lobster critter Crew Cuts chinos.” – Slynnro

Once upon a time a very cute boy told me that I looked ‘amazing’ in pink and so I spent the better part of four years looking as if I took a nosedive into a bottle of pepto bismol. Is it in poor taste to say that well, damn, I do look great in pink? Because I do. I love it in all of its various hues my favorite being a bright pink cashmere sweater dress procured from JCrew. Recently I was digging around through a bowl of jelly bellies and remarked that the pink jelly bean tastes just as one would expect pink to taste like: light and sweet and the ability to cause even the world’s oldest living curmudgeon frown to turn upside down. I find it impossible not to smile when I see the slightest hint of pink.

I’m caught up in the bright for as we speak I am covered in gray. A light gray wrap sweater and a darker gray skirt with pockets and tights (again from Paris) with a black and gray pattern. The outfit looks lovely but I still feel drab as I have spent my entire weekend running from Banana Republic to JCrew and back again looking for items to spruce up my spring wardrobe. To add to my long, long list of flaws, I am a shopper and have continuously found myself in the precarious position of having too much clothing but nothing to wear. Hence the reason for why I gave up that habit for 60 days and didn’t touch the stuff. It’s time to throw a little color into the wardrobe and lately green has been ‘speaking to me’. For the record, the other week Purdue was ‘speaking to me’ and it turns out that it was saying “We’re going to suck your soul and your money” but I digress.

I willingly let JCrew take my money because they are so kind about it. They also have provided me with preppy bright chinos and ruffle tops that are excellent cleavage boosters. When your ass to waist to shoulder width ratio is all kinds of awesomely fucked up, then you are forced to focus on one part of your body that you really, really love. For me it’s my cleavage hence the constant obsessing. In the end though it’s all about the dresses. The perfect dresses that amplify the top half and minimize the bottom half with the perfect amount of frill and flow. Anything with pockets causes me to rub my face up against it because I adore pockets. I need a girly dress with ‘manly’ pockets with which to place my ‘manly’ hands. Men don’t understand this obsession with pockets or the need to convulse and flail about excitedly because OMFG POCKETS! I tried to explain this to Brian when telling him about my favorite skirt. He looked at me as if I had just announced my discovery of the Internet because really? More excitement over pockets than vodka? What can I say? They’re a rare but hot commodity. But my God, Give me a dress with pockets and a hood and I’ll give you my first born and other sundry collateral.

Anyway that’s where things are right now, greens and pockets and a ‘puke if you dare!’ sunny dispostion. I just have this good feeling about Spring.

*I know, I am reposting this for various reasons like it was magically lost and that is how strong my love is for pink and green and spring and JCrew: I must tell you about it again.

I never said one should expect quality from me

March 6, 2008 | Filed under: The object of my obsession

 
“The time to enjoy a European trip is about three weeks after unpacking.”  ~George Ade

While writing about The Other Boleyn Girl* I got a little giddy. This might be because I was writing at 3:30 AM and slightly delusional, possibly hallucinating even but I will chalk it up to getting to write anything half pertaining to European history. That shit makes me do a little shimmy and get all bouncy in my bed because the Tudors! Oh the Tudors. Not that I was writing great prose based on actual historical accuracy but I still felt invigorated. I mentioned in the comments that I have never been a House of Tudor fanatic but I have spent days absorbing the plights of the Habsburgs and Bourbons. There is some (though completely odd) sense of joy that I get whenever Martin Luther or John Calvin comes up in a conversation. Which would be practically every single day because everyone I know discusses the Protestant Reformation daily. Of course.

I am such a nerd and it is something that I would have shunned from once upon a time but now I wholeheartedly embrace it. Sometimes in conversation it’s fun to bust out random facts about Huguenots. Which can be a slightly refreshing change from all that discussion of the great merits of Gewürztraminer or the kick ass sample sale that Kate Spade is having. Mostly I just want to prove that vodka hasn’t completely robbed me of all functional brain matter. So yay!

Anyway, I was writing and had this light bulb go off in my rather dim brain. One that said, hey dumbshit (it speaks!) you have never written about France. Which is funny because whenever anyone mentions Paris I get this look of sheer confusion on my face as if that entire walk up the Eiffel Tower never happened. I don’t know why or how I keep forgetting but to bring things full circle here because it’s 6 AM and I have a flight in four hours and my ass needs to make its way to a gym post hast; I will say that I find it difficult to make casual conversation about Europe because I end up getting wistful and booking flights for destinations across the Atlantic. I love Europe. If I could procreate with a continent I would probably have 14 babies with that place it is just that spectacular. It’s the history that gets to me (I’m getting wistful as we speak. Oh, now a heavy sigh…) and that toe tingling, heart soaring sensation that made its way through me when walking through El Escorial (twice. Once for class the other time for the sweet, sweet joy of it) and Versailles.

If I could put my finger on the exact feeling or cause I would because I am always mesmerized by the things that I have ended up interested in because my parents seriously are all WTF when I happily announce that I’d like to move to Belgium (long story) some day. And speaking of random shit I’m interested in, like online content and community building, I am leaving for Austin in a few hours and my plan is to have a good buzz the entire time to make up for those three weeks that I had nary a sip of alcohol. So don’t expect too much from. Then again after this post, I doubt anyone will. Be good.

*Yes. I write there. Yay! Every Wednesday at 9AM. I have an excel spreadsheet full of movies that I would like to see. Planned out from now until July. If there is anything that any of you all are DYING to see but won’t feel justified to spend ten (god damn) dollars on until you know it’s worth it, then let me know and I will probably go see it for you. But then I might stalk you if I end up losing two solid hours of my meaningful life to watch some crap ass movie about stock car racing. You’ve been warned.