suburbia: night 2

i only think when christiana does.

Every year, it seems I have one or two revelations that throw my entire universe into turmoil, give me a "Eureka!" moment, and inspire all of my friends to say "Really? You haven't figured that out yet?"

2008's major discovery involved a long, convoluted, and mostly drunken self-discovery process that ended in my realization that what matters to me most is doing things that matter to other people. If a Flynn does a remarkable thing in the forest and no one is listening, it seems, that thing will not make a sound.

It seems contradictory in nature, but one of the (actually many) things I learned in 2009 was that despite this pressing need to make myself known to the people of the world, I have my feet quite staunchly planted in a fear of any sort of fame. I discovered this the hard way one day while opening band fan mail at work and remembering just how insane a goodly portion of the population is. Then I thought about everyone I know who's achieved any kind of fame, and about how they all suffer from this really weird sort of self-awareness that usually ends up translating into a kind of congratulatory deprication.

Basically, it seems like a sort of terrible thing.

At some point, I figured out where to turn the focus to make these two forces complementary, and without even realizing it I became a much happier person. I don't need to write the great American novel to matter, I need to make dinner for my closest friends. I don't need to ever make a record; I need to make sure good conversation is had over good scotch on a fairly regular basis. I need to be thankful for my cookie-baking skills, and never to worry about whether my name appears in print, anywhere.

I've never felt less pressure than this past year. Still, I worry that I've also never gotten less done.

domestic envy

after a painless and surprisingly quick bus & train ride, I arrived in the philadelphia suburbs yesterday where I was picked up by an old friend. we grew up around the corner from one another, attending the same grade and high schools. we spent our days crafting everything from scrunchies to tote bags, obsessively rubber stamping/embossing and sculpting odd creatures and knickknacks out of sculpey. we fell out of touch for a while during college, but the past few years have found us closer than ever. i don't see her all too often, but when i do it's like we never missed a beat.

Our lives up until now have been quite opposite. She's married, lives in the suburbs, and has had stable jobs her entire life; I'm forever a Singleton, have lived in three different states, two different countries, and change jobs/professions just about every year. the past year has found our life paths becoming more alike than ever before. it's funny how suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, we reach an age where we realize not only what's important to us (or impulsive, in my case), but what's actually good for us. and when you set your priorities straight, despite where you live (the city, suburbs, or country), your lives somehow become a little more similar than you could have ever imagined.

She has an apartment that i revel in every time i visit. Last night was no exception. They hosted a small Christmas gathering, with decorations that only enhanced my vision of domesticity at it's finest, complete with Christmas tree and stalkings hanging from a fireplace boasting a roaring fire (thank you Costco Yule logs). I love my life, but sometimes taking a step back and relaxing in a different setting is exactly what I need.

Listening to: Banjo Or Freakout: White Christmas - Stereogum

a whole lot better

Can I just say how much I love Brendan Benson? Although there are only a few songs on his new album that I actually like, they happen to be pretty damn spot on. His indecisiveness on everything in life is completely in sync with mine.



Speaking of things I love, yesterday I went to go see New Moon by myself. There were only 4 others in the theater with me: 2 annoying college girls in Uggz, and a mother with her 12 year old daughter. Corny? Yes. Ridiculous? Of course. An extreme guilty pleasure that I love giving in to? Absolutely.



I have no shame, and I'm completely okay with that.

a moment passed

sometimes it's good to let yourself become vulnerable, however hard it may be for you to actually do. sometimes you have to take a chance, if only for an opportunity to show yourself that you can.

sometimes we meet people at the exact moment that we need them. no matter if they're in our life for a single day, or for many years to come. we come to realize that we stumble across them when we were lacking something. we come to realize that they were there to inspire, and that they were there to comfort you in a way that you never even knew you needed to be comforted.

through them, you learn so much about yourself. through them, you look at the future a little bit differently. and sometimes you know that this may be all you walk away with. sometimes there is no documentation of this event: no pictures. no written word. all that remains is a memory and an inspiration to help move you forward.

and sometimes you wish things could be a little bit different. but you know in your heart that this is the way it was supposed to be. and you accept that. and you smile.

...and these are the unexpected moments in life that keep you going

— re-post from February, 2007

master of (n)one

I am in a constant struggle with my mediocrity in a city where anything is possible. someone once told me that to recognize your own mediocrity is the first step at truly accepting and living life to it's fullest. I want to believe that this is all I need to move forward, but in the back of my head I can never fully wrap my head around it. Or maybe it's just that I don't want to.

Jack of all trades / Master of none. Is this a slogan of being ordinary or of being a success? Mastering the art of integration and pushing it to the limits may be the only way from becoming stuck.

The struggle continues, and the constant urge of my nomadic tendencies must be kept in check. The distraction of always looking for an escape continues to hinder any ability to 'master' any one thing.

building some things.

I have a friend who's not so much a "friend" as someone I've met a few times and whose company I've really, really enjoyed. She is bold, and she is brash, and I know via her Twitter account that she's deeply immersed in welding lessons.

I have another friend, made through mutual acquaintances, who has gone to Peru for an indeterminate period of time to concentrate on her writing and on not being in New York for a while.

A third friend, this one being one of my closest, is preparing for her first child and looking forward to a future where she and her husband are able to raise him and still have adventures. (Some people with children pooh-pooh this idea, but those who've grown up this way know its possibility.)

All around me, people are Doing Things, and I watch and I get jealous and I get inspired and I hope to do some things myself. Mostly it feels like I'm always standing still with a whirlwind around me, never doing enough, but all I really need is to make little dents here and there. Without a manifesto, without an organization, without much of anything except the brains in my head and this undying gusto for everything, I feel like I'm actually doing so.

I don't know if I'm entitled to that right, but I'm taking it for what it's worth. Given that, I don't think it hurts to hope someday to take that trip or to weld some shit or to have that baby, because it's the hope that gets you to the fact.

Also I'm really sleepy.