Friday, July 30, 2010

Hypatia's Girl Goes to the Movies and Comes to Detest Smeyer

So, we went to see the new Twilight travesty.

First I need to acknowledge that the most depressing thing about this whole mess is that we went, what, a month or two after it came out, and watched it at an arty kind of theater that serves beer and has a bunch of movie posters in FRENCH in the lobby.  Clearly, thought I, this is a place where a girl like me can go watch this nightmare in the company of other grown adults and we’ll all treat it like a huge joke and bond over how superior our movie-going tastes actually are.

In which Hypatia's Girl tries to make the previous boring post meaningful PART 2

Part 1 is here

All right, where was I?
Ummm, emotional milestones, overwhelming sharing, undirected thoughts about life and love and shit, ghost-hunting analogies . . .

That's right - My Thoughts On How It Is Difficult To Be A Woman With Shit To Do Whilst Also Maintaining Productive, Grown-Up Interpersonal Relationships.

This will be interesting, because within the last week I've reentered the OkCupid trainwreck and so now have Lots of Interesting Thoughts about Awkward Dating and a Generalized Fear Of Strangers.

Onward and upward!

Monday, July 12, 2010

In which Hypatia's Girl tries to make up for being a navel-gazer

But only by being a self-obsessed blogger.  HA! FOOLED YOU!

But seriously - true fact #1 - People all over the internet find my post on Of Montreal's Aldhils Aborteum.  This is not my best post.  They should find a more fun one.

True fact #2 - Who the fuck do I know in Denver?

True fact #3 - I know who's in Honolulu!  HI THERE!

True fact #4 - I have taken multiple pictures of my cat like this, on multiple days.  WITHOUT SHAME

That is all.

In which Hypatia's Girl isn't smart enough to just delete the boring post. PART 1

There is literally no reason to read this post.  But I spent such a long time putting in pictures that I can't face not posting it.  I really like the pictures.

I should be doing grading, but, frankly, ugh, that sounds awful.  And the blog I'm currently obsessed with has LIED to me about updating soon, and so . . . instead I find myself alone in the apartment thinking.

I'm not even going to blog about Mel Gibson (judgment: dick) Roman Polanski (judgment: creepy child-rapist dick, AND YET PEOPLE DON'T SEEM TO THINK GIVING HIM A PASS IS IN ANY WAY PROBLEMATIC) or anything interesting like that.  Instead, I'm thinking about marriage, loneliness and personal milestones.

And yes, I'm totally qualified to blog about marriage, I KNOW SEVERAL PEOPLE WHO HAVE ENTERED INTO THAT HALLOWED TRADITION, including my parents, SOME OF WHOM I AM LEGITIMATELY HAPPY FOR (particularly the last couple to have gotten engaged! Hooray for you and the disgustingly adorable children you will someday have.  I totally approve.).

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Listening Project - Amethyst Rock Star - Saul Williams

 Part 15 - Amethyst Rock Star - Saul Williams (2001, Universal Special Markets)

Dude. Dude.  Dude, seriously, one of my favorite ever albums of ALL TIME AND HISTORY.  I luffs it.  There isn't a lot of hip hop on the old iPod, but it is a genre I've come to enjoy (when it's good, it's very good).

I'm really not totally certain what else to say about this.  It's the sort of album that fits almost any mood or time of day or year.  In a lot of respects it's way easier to write about albums I'm not as certain about, because, really, what more can I say about this other than WHY ARE YOU NOT LISTENING TO IT RIGHT NOW?!!!!

Favorite Track: "Coded Language"
Least Favorite: "Our Father"

Next Up - Arm's Way - Islands (2008)

Saturday, July 3, 2010

On leaving, arriving and assuming a life that suddenly becomes yours

I moved, down the country, to a new geographic block of states.

The vegetation is different down here, the squirrels are smaller, none of these people have heard my stories three thousand times yet.  Of course, my stories contain no relevance here, there are no architectural mnemonics here to trigger the subconscious into the mental fugue that can only be escaped by telling the story.

And this all happened almost three weeks ago, and still.  I don't feel it.  Instead I think about homes and houses, I think about selves and stories, I think about timelines interrupted, Derek Parfit might be on to something.

What was more meaningful was two days ago, when the remainder of Hypatia's Household packed up their shit into cars and trucks, turned in the keys and the internet box and rolled their separate directions off into some mythical sunset.

My own leaving was subsumed into the entrance into a life clearly already in progress.  This life has a fire escape and a pre-established harmony with a set of people I don't know yet.  This new life tangos and forgoes some of the ancient habits that built me up.

We have left Toledo.

I have arrived in Atlanta.

And my pre-ordered life unpacks itself around me.  Today, a day I have done nothing and spoken to almost no one, it occurs to me that I am already the person I will be.

But there is this tension - I am looking for it to be painful or meaningful or hard or something.  It isn't.  And that is terrifying.