Danielle Colette

If love is the drug when I want to OD

2009-01-27T23:16:00.000-08:00

I haven't written here in a long while, because my thoughts have been consumed with life changes, and I have never felt entirely comfortable discussing my relationships on the internet. My relationship with Paul ended a month ago, which is a good thing, considering that, after my 6 hour drive northward (from Portland) I felt nothing but relief.

Relief that I had decided, rightly, that I wasn't in love with this person anymore and that we weren't right for each other. We are both good people, but, to be succinct, he's just East Coat and I'm just West Coast. I'm super laid back and love sangria and spontaneous dance parties - and with Paul, I felt like I was dating Woody Allen. I drove him crazy with my laissez faire attitude, and his neuroses drove me absolutely batty.

I also felt relief as soon as I crossed the Canadian border and realized that I wouldn't have to keep dealing with Homeland Security and enduring the scrutiny involved in renewing my work visa. Although I love some aspects of American culture (IE dirt cheap happy hour), I do feel that the cheap alcohol and cheap shopping was akin to an opiate of the poor. Although I, ironically, left 4 days after the inauguration of Barack Obama, I am relieved to walk away from such a militaristic culture. My ex boyfriend said that the Canadians he met in Vancouver were all too "naive" for his taste. Although Canada, particularly with the current Conservative administration, is far from perfect, he took issue with the rampant idealism and optimism that could only result from a culture used to universal healthcare.

I just wanted to address this so I could move on. There are many proximate and fundamental causes to this decision but, ultimately, we just weren't compatible. This is a decision I should have come to a year ago, but didn't for fear of regret. Romantic relationships are difficult enough that it's not often worth it. For now, I am happily independent.

The Selby

2008-12-09T18:51:00.000-08:00

Don't you love this website? The Selby features photographs, paintings and videos by todd selby of interesting people and their creative spaces

These photos make me realize how I wish I had some kind of successful & lucrative creative career & the money to fund this magical bohemian lifestyle they represent. Also, though, it's kind of inspiring & makes me wonder about saving the money I'm spending now on a jam space & fund it toward creating a beautiful magical place to live (although, i do really like my apartment).

This is the building I'm trying to get into in my next move. 1300 square feet of open space. It's like a blank canvas with some much inspirational/fun potential. Can you imagine the dance parties?

This could only happen to me.

2008-12-06T09:52:00.000-08:00

I have spent the past week or two being sick on the couch watching movies. I even missed the show of friends Casey and Brian, who I met in Seattle before they abandoned the rain for San Francisco, although I have plans to go down to the bay area soon. Between that & trying to save up for moving, I haven't gone out too much.

The other night, at the East End, I went with friends to see two of my favourite Portl
and bands: Explode Into Colors and Fist Fite . Explode Into Colors is a super fun band to see with a lot of recent buzz surrounding them, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were the next band to emerge from the Portland scene into more widespread popularity.

There is a door in the East End basement, by the bathrooms, that is always closed, that has "do not enter this is a studio" graffitied onto it.

When we were hanging around outside, a man with crazy white hair poked his head out and said, "hey girls, do you want to come see my art?" Being me, I shrugged my shoulders and followed him inside. He was shaking with the faint tremors like someone who has been drinking and drugging for 40 odd years, and his basement lair housed an astonishing collection of paintings, books, photographs, old furniture, and art supplies. At first we were a little skeptical, but then I started to enjoy myself.

One conversation:

Crazy old man: I suppose you won't like my work, will you, I don't want to offend you I draw a lot of ----. I just think they're beautiful.

Me: Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. that's all Georgia O'Keefe drew.

Crazy old man: Yes! *His arms are in the air and he jumps up and down* Beautiful flower ----!

At this point he hugged me.

He put on Leonard Cohen and he showed us lots of photos and we talked about the Native American goddess figure and the mythology of the "goddess", residential schools, Sauvie Island, Vietnam draft dodgers, local artists, how he thought the "harvest" in Mendocino compared to the Pacific Northwest and Vancouver Island. All sorts of things. After I told him I was Canadian, I could basically do no wrong, and he told me about smoking pot in Stanley Park in the 1960s......"I remember a place, where there were totem poles. And lots of people. Did I dream the totem poles?"

I can't even explain in a blog how amusing and surreal this was. At first, I thought he was a crazy drug addict, not that he's not, but then, gradually, when he showed us advertisements for gallery shows of his work, and I realized he was actually legitimate. Then, before we were leaving, he asked is we wanted "a book". We said sure, and he brought out books and signed them for us (and wrote down his phone number).

Anyways, it turns out he's the author, Walt Curtis, the book was "Mala Noche", an autobiographical book released in the 1970s, which inspired Gus Van Sant's first film, which in turn set the stage for a lot of the New Queer cinema of the 1980s and 1990s. Curtis is friends with Gus Van Sant, and we talked about his new film "Milk" which he absolutely loved, and I'm desperate to see.

In 1984 film director Gus Van Sant (Drugstore Cowboy and Good Will Hunting) began his career with a small, black-and-white independent movie called Mala Noche. Van Sant's film, a gritty look at a gay man's relationship to Latino teenagers in Portland, Oregon's Little Mexico, was based on a novella by Walt Curtis, a street poet with a cult following among experimental writers and audiences. Curtis's small chapbook has never been widely available but is reprinted here with more material by him and an introduction by Van Sant. Curtis's authentic voice sounds like a cross between Allen Ginsberg and the over-narration on a travelogue about inner-city life. He is unstinting in his self-revelation, and the energy and love he has for his characters is palpable (the city of Portland is as much of a person here as his fellow humans). Mala Noche will be a revelation for anyone who loves Van Sant's film, and a fine introduction for those who have yet to watch it.

An underground literary legend associated with Ken Kesey, William Burroughs, and Allen Ginsberg, Curtis has been called Portland, Oregon's, unofficial street poet. "Mala Noche" first appeared in 1977 as a chapbook and was later made into an award-winning film by Gus Van Sant. It is a vividly homoerotic account of Curtis's passionate and mostly unrequited love for several Mexican street youths who come to Oregon seeking jobs and money. The powerful imagery is reminiscent of Jean Genet and of other Beat Generation writers. There is great sadness in the lives of these lost young men but also great beauty and dignity, which Curtis effectively captures. Illustrated with the author's photos and drawings and accompanied by several essays and poems, this book deserves a place in both Hispanic and gay literature collections, though libraries should beware of the graphic language and situations.

Anyways. This better explains my surreal, sort of amazing experience:

And the trailer for Mala Noche:

The Shock Doctrine

2008-12-02T23:19:00.000-08:00

Love her or hate her, Naomi Klein's book "The Shock Doctrine", published a year ago, is a pretty amazing read. I adored "No Logo" when it came out, and have since read a number of blistering attacks on her hypotheses from her detractors, politicians, and economists. Regardless of whether or not you agree with her theses or believe she sensationalizes and simplifies ideas for personal profit, her work is fascinating and provocative.

It is an attack on free-market fundamentalism and the global profiteers who benefit from recent wars and catastrophes. Here are two papers that attempt to discredit her thesis from The Cato Institue and The New Republic.

You can listen to her discuss the bailout profiteers here on "Democracy Now"

Excerpt from the book:

Having been part of the movement against ballooning corporate power that made its global debut in Seattle in 1999, I was accustomed to seeing business-friendly policies imposed through arm-twisting at WTO summits, or as the conditions attached to loans from the IMF.

As I dug deeper into the history of how this market model had swept the globe, I discovered that the idea of exploiting crisis and disaster has been the modus operandi of Friedman's movement from the very beginning - this fundamentalist form of capitalism has always needed disasters to advance. What was happening in Iraq and New Orleans was not a post-September 11 invention. Rather, these bold experiments in crisis exploitation were the culmination of three decades of strict adherence to the shock doctrine.

Seen through the lens of this doctrine, the past 35 years look very different. Some of the most infamous human rights violations of this era, which have tended to be viewed as sadistic acts carried out by anti-democratic regimes, were in fact either committed with the intent of terrorising the public or actively harnessed to prepare the ground for radical free-market "reforms". In China in 1989, it was the shock of the Tiananmen Square massacre and the arrests of tens of thousands that freed the Communist party to convert much of the country into a sprawling export zone, staffed with workers too terrified to demand their rights. The Falklands war in 1982 served a similar purpose for Margaret Thatcher: the disorder resulting from the war allowed her to crush the striking miners and to launch the first privatisation frenzy in a western democracy.

The bottom line is that, for economic shock therapy to be applied without restraint, some sort of additional collective trauma has always been required. Friedman's economic model is capable of being partially imposed under democracy - the US under Reagan being the best example - but for the vision to be implemented in its complete form, authoritarian or quasi-authoritarian conditions are required.

Until recently, these conditions did not exist in the US. What happened on September 11 2001 is that an ideology hatched in American universities and fortified in Washington institutions finally had its chance to come home. The Bush administration, packed with Friedman's disciples, including his close friend Donald Rumsfeld, seized upon the fear generated to launch the "war on terror" and to ensure that it is an almost completely for-profit venture, a booming new industry that has breathed new life into the faltering US economy. Best understood as a "disaster capitalism complex", it is a global war fought on every level by private companies whose involvement is paid for with public money, with the unending mandate of protecting the US homeland in perpetuity while eliminating all "evil" abroad.

In a few short years, the complex has already expanded its market reach from fighting terrorism to international peacekeeping, to municipal policing, to responding to increasingly frequent natural disasters. The ultimate goal for the corporations at the centre of the complex is to bring the model of for-profit government, which advances so rapidly in extraordinary circumstances, into the ordinary functioning of the state - in effect, to privatise the government.

In scale, the disaster capitalism complex is on a par with the "emerging market" and IT booms of the 90s. It is dominated by US firms, but is global, with British companies bringing their experience in security cameras, Israeli firms their expertise in building hi-tech fences and walls. Combined with soaring insurance industry profits as well as super profits for the oil industry, the disaster economy may well have saved the world market from the full-blown recession it was facing on the eve of 9/11.

In the torrent of words written in eulogy to Milton Friedman, the role of shocks and crises to advance his world view received barely a mention. Instead, the economist's passing, in November 2006, provided an occasion for a retelling of the official story of how his brand of radical capitalism became government orthodoxy in almost every corner of the globe. It is a fairytale history, scrubbed clean of the violence so intimately entwined with this crusade.

It is time for this to change. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, there has been a powerful reckoning with the crimes committed in the name of communism. But what of the crusade to liberate world markets?

I am not arguing that all forms of market systems require large-scale violence. It is eminently possible to have a market-based economy that demands no such brutality or ideological purity. A free market in consumer products can coexist with free public health care, with public schools, with a large segment of the economy - such as a national oil company - held in state hands. It's equally possible to require corporations to pay decent wages, to respect the right of workers to form unions, and for governments to tax and redistribute wealth so that the sharp inequalities that mark the corporatist state are reduced. Markets need not be fundamentalist.

John Maynard Keynes proposed just that kind of mixed, regulated economy after the Great Depression. It was that system of compromises, checks and balances that Friedman's counter-revolution was launched to dismantle in country after country. Seen in that light, Chicago School capitalism has something in common with other fundamentalist ideologies: the signature desire for unattainable purity.

This desire for godlike powers of creation is precisely why free-market ideologues are so drawn to crises and disasters. Non-apocalyptic reality is simply not hospitable to their ambitions. For 35 years, what has animated Friedman's counter-revolution is an attraction to a kind of freedom available only in times of cataclysmic change - when people, with their stubborn habits and insistent demands, are blasted out of the way - moments when democracy seems a practical impossibility. Believers in the shock doctrine are convinced that only a great rupture - a flood, a war, a terrorist attack - can generate the kind of vast, clean canvases they crave. It is in these malleable moments, when we are psychologically unmoored and physically uprooted, that these artists of the real plunge in their hands and begin their work of remaking the world.

I got a brand new house on the roadside made from rattlesnake hide I got a brand new chimney made on top made out of human skull

2008-11-28T01:42:00.000-08:00

Excuse the watermark, I stole the image from an apartment site I was looking at.

Sometimes I wonder why I pay so much to live where I live. I have lived in 6 different apartments/houses since I moved out of my parents' house, and in each of them I lived in a trendy and accessible neighbourhood. If, say, I wanted to move to a place that was a 10 minute drive outside of town, I could have that whole house pictured above, to myself. Meanwhile, I'm in a cute & trendy 1 bedroom condo while, while cool, has no counter or storage space to speak of. I'm so urbanized, that in Austin, Texas last year, I was completely dumbfounded that there wasn't always a coffee shop within sight. Growing up in Vancouver, I became accustomed to being able to look up on any city street and see 2 or 3 coffee shops within my eyeline. In Austin, however, I had to occasionally walk 5 blocks without seeing one.

I love that I am half a block from bars, restaurants, and a grocery store. In fact, at every single place I've lived, there have been 3 grocery stores within a 5 minute walk. Although I never talk to any of these people, seeing people surround me on the pavement everytime I step outside makes me feel a kind of camaraderie with my fellow human population. I feel less alienated, I feel like I'm part of something. Even though I may never have the cash to spend at the trendy boutiques lining the sidewalks of my neighbourhood, I feel oddly comforted that they're there. Even though I never talk to these people, I like that I see them everyday. When I feel too alone in my apartment, sometimes I take walks and go to coffee shops for some inexplicable urge to be surrounded by human life.

I have a 15 minute commute by foot to my work in the morning and a 4 minute commute by transit. I love this. But, sometimes I wonder how little my life would be affected by, say, a 10 minute move Eastward. I could then afford a house and a garden and a big porch. However, that location wouldn't afford me the social cache of living in a "trendy" neighbourhood. I read an article by an economist recently that calculated that, since he paid 200 thousand more for the convenience downtown digs than he would've out in the suburbs, the privilege of walking to work rather than commuting cost him around 100 dollars a day. For me, I think a move out to the suburbs is associated with settling down and becoming, god forbid, responsible. Because, clearly, it is an irresponsible, irrational decision to waste a few hundred dollars extra a month for the privilege of being surrounded by people I never talk to, stores I never shop at, and bars I never frequent. Oh and, lest we forget, the theater which hosts plays I never attend, and the concert hall I never patronize.

In a way, I think the fact that Vancouver real estate prices are astronomical anywhere I'd want to live has contributed to my resistance to returning there. I don't know if I'll ever have the cash to buy a home (and it's looking more and more like a pipe dream, based on my current working class paycheque-paycheque existence), but I like to know that it's a future possibility, however remote.

Of course, there are significant environmental benefits to living downtown and car-free. Really, none of us deserves to be taking up the room that a house and yard consumes. Still, though, I love the idea of space. I think this is why I am reluctant to move to New York, a city that I absolutely adore. I just can't imagine being constricted by walls and boundaries that are closer in than those I have now. I know some people want a house to fill a family with, but I really just want space to cook big dinners, and a room to write in, a studio to jam in, a darkroom to develop photos in, and a dancefloor for my friends to party on.

I wonder how it will affect peoples' sense of nationalism as, due to changes in lending policies following the mortgage crisis, so few of us are able to own homes. It is a very American idea that we are each entitled to our own piece of land. And now, as relative salaries diminish, this American ideal is inaccessible to most of the population. Can we feel as tied to a country if we are unable to own our own piece of it? The importance of ownership is a central tenet of capitalism, and I wonder how capitalism will change as space diminishes and ownership becomes out-of-reach for many as the middle-class continues to erode. But, I can't help but feel that the space that surrounds me affects my sense of self immeasurably.

When I think about the meaning of space, I can't help but think of Gaston Bachelard's text "The Poetics of Space": "to sleep well we do not need to sleep in a large room and to work well we do not have to work in a den. But to dream of a poem, then write it, we need both....Thus the dream house must possess every virtue. However spacious, it must also be a cottage, a dove-cote, a nest, a chrysalis. Intimacy needs the heart of a nest."

A house is tied to our pasts, our future: "a great many of our memories are housed, and if the house is a bit elaborate, if it has a cellar and a garret, nooks and corridors, our memories have refuges that are all the more clearly delineated...if one were to give an account of all the doors one has closed and opened, of all the doors one would like to re-openm one would have to tell the story of one's entire life."

There are countless metaphors that equate the interiors of our home with the interiors of our mind. The places we inhabit can be imbued with many emotions and memories: they can remind us of lost loves, haunt us about unfinished projects, and annoy us about the emptiness in our lives.
The houses and spaces we have inhabited are intertwined with our memories and our past, and I often wonder what it does to someone's psyche to be rootless, or, even, homeless. As soon as I go to my cabin at Sakinaw or to my mom and dad's house, I feel that I have returned "Home". I have many friends whose parents have split up and moved to small apartments and they really have nowhere that represents their childhood home to them. It is funny, I have never felt that anywhere I've lived has been a real "home". To me, the idea of a "home" is associated with stability and a kind of permanence, and all of my homes have been definitively temporary. Lately, I think it would be nice to impose my vision of an ideal home onto a place I live. It would be nice to feel that kind of connection and that kind of intent to stay put. But, of course, knowing me, as soon as I renovated things to my liking, I would probably freak out at the lack of adventure in my life and leave to discover unknown places.

There is a dichotomy in my mind between my urge to carve out a beautiful life and a beautiful space in one city and house and make it my home and the desire to unburden myself of my belongings and attachments and set out on another adventure with only a backpack to my name. Humans are horders. It's why we shop, why we want our own piece of the pie, why our ancestors traveled to North America to seize land from the Native Peoples. It comforts us to have something all to ourselves. But, what does that do to our psyche when variable interests rates can take what we have away so easily? We have all read countless studies of the link between pervasive poverty and extreme political views, but what does it do to our political future when an entire generation grows up unable to get their own piece of the proverbial pie? What happens when we graduate from school with an average student loan debt of 30,000, credit card debt of 3,000, and are unlikely to ever own a home? 30 years ago, you could've obtained a decent job after University. Now, University grads (well, okay, us, that is me, who majored in Creative Writing and English Literature, with a Minor in Russian Literature in Translation) are lucky to be making 12 dollars an hour. We are not in the middle class. We are not about to achieve the American (Pipe) Dream. We are the working class. We are poor and getting poorer. In a way though, there is a kind of strange comfort in knowing how to be poor. The economy doesn't really affect me personally, at least so far. I've never had any extra money, so nothing has changed. No wonder I find socialism so attractive. I have nothing to lose and nothing to tie me down. So, where do we go from here?

Flowers are essentially tarts; prostitutes for the bees.

2008-11-23T16:17:00.000-08:00

Although I didn't have the cash to front for Deerhunter or Gang Gang Dance , who respectively put out two of my (and everyone else's) favourite albums of the year, I managed to take in some more fiscally-accessible (hah) shows.

Fist Fite at Plan B

Last weekend, I saw The Mint Chicks, Lickity, and Fist Fite at Plan B.

The Mint Chicks are a noise pop band that moved from New Zealand to Portland. I like noise and discord in an accessible, fun context, and that's why The Mint Chicks are really fun to watch.

Lickity is a synth punk project backed by the drummer of the seminal L.A. punk band "Fear". They have these epic shows where the frontman wraps his head in tape, screams a lot, and makes all the fifty-something ex-punkers rock out. It's a definite experience.

Bald spots surrounded me as Lickity played
Fist Fite is gaining a lot of popularity. They backed the Klaxons on tour and they're super fun to watch (if anyone wants a visual, the frontwoman had a thing with Vancouver's Garrett. I didn't want to know that either). I love the bar Plan B, because they make the strongest drinks I've ever tasted. My drink was nine-tenths gin, one-tenth tonic.

When my dad came down to visit me, he told me that I should give walking tours of Portland bars since he told me that, in two months, I've been to more bars in Portland than he's been to his lifetime in Vancouver. For a relatively small town, there are some super rad bars here.

Last week, at Backspace, I saw Hecuba, Pit er Pat, and Lucky Dragons on tour together. They're from Chicago and L.A. and all play experimental electronic music which encapsulates performance art and music.

The documentary on Luke Fishbeck, aka Lucky Dragons, "make a baby" project.

This weekend, I saw the Portland band Starfucker play with my friend's band Flaspar at the Someday Lounge. Starfucker (the frontman's former band was Sexton Blake) has gotten a ton of buzz lately, which isn't surprising considering that they're cute boys in tight pants who write accessible indie pop with cheeky lyrics.

The recording isn't much to listen to, and, despite our world-weary cynical comments during the early part of the set list that "this is music I'd like to wash my dishes to and not stay up late at a bar for," their set gradually became more exciting. The songs "Florida" and "German Love" are irresistibly fun, and by the end, I found myself shaking off my music-snob preconceptions and enjoying myself. Being a child of the 1990s, I am a sucker for a little lo-fi pop now and then. They're a tight, enjoyable band that really excited the mixed crowd of hipsters and the bridge and tunnel ilk. I'd see them again live, but I wouldn't buy them on vinyl. That being said, if I was 16, they'd be plastered all over my locker.

Flaspar is an electro-dance project of Keil's, and he's also in the other dance project Guidance Counselor, which is appropriately titled considering their effect on teenage girls.

Guidance Counselor: why do all the bands wear animal masks now?

I have been having too much fun lately. Too much fun, not enough photogenic-ness.

Also, I really need a haircut, but I am paralyzed by indecision (aren't we all?). I've really let myself go to the point where I actually lost my blowdryer since I hadn't used it in 3 months. My beauty routine for the past three years takes about 3 minutes: wake up, shake my hair so it gets even bigger, put on way more eyeliner than is socially acceptable, and walk out the door. The only thing that's separating me from a suburban soccer mom is the short skirts and obsessive skincare regimen. Clearly, I'll never lasso a husband unless I put more effort into looking hot and less effort into being a nerdy hermit.

We Gotta Get Outta This Place

2008-11-20T23:25:00.000-08:00

It will be interesting/frighten to see what happens over the next few weeks:

George W. used the last-minute timing of Clinton's "midnight hour" law changes at the end of his term as justification for contesting those laws; however, he like other presidents is doing the same thing.

The article "So Little Time, So Much Damage" appeared in The Times a few weeks ago, and a related article. "Midnight Hour" was printed in this week's New Yorker.

Speaking of The New Yorker, there is an interesting article on "new liberalism" here.

At least, it feels like I'm in the thick of something, living in these equally scary and exciting country. The stores are big here. The cars are big here. The weapons are big here. And the fuck ups are huge.

Everyday, I speak to impoverished people who are desperate for work. I speak to people with families to support who are eager to accept 10 dollars an hour. I speak to people who are 64 without any retirement savings. I see resume after resume from people liberal arts degrees but lack "real-world" experience. I don't think I've ever seen economic desperation like this.

The problem is is that so many of these laid-off and down-sized people don't have any transferable skills. Due to the continued de-industrialization of North America, they find themselves unemployed after 30 years working in a manufacturing plant. These people had the "American Dream" and lost it due to variable rate mortgages and lost investments and vanquished retirement plans. They grew up in a world where stability was the goal. However, in this volatile economy, it is important to have flexibility and possess transferable and marketable skills.

I also see impressive resumes from many downsized educated and experienced people who have found themselves competing in a tough marketplace with many other unemployed over-qualified candidates.

At least it makes me happy to be able to offer some people work and be able to hire my friends for decently paying jobs. I feel impoverished, but I know I'm lucky to have a dependable salary, benefits, and 3 weeks of vacation to start. But, I still feel like I'm always playing catch-up. I guess, right now, there is a kind of solidarity in being perpetually broke.

Lately, I've been reevaluating my values. I've never really valued financial success: I always privileged travel and life experience over savings and stock options. But, I don't want to spend my life encumbered by debt. I just want enough money to have as much fun as possible. The one silver lining to the fact that I haven't ever saved enough for a mortgage on a condo is that, if I had, I'd be paying for it right now.

I've always dated similarly laid-back people to me, too, and I am realizing that that's probably not the most solid financial plan. I can't help it though, it's like I have this innate resistance to conformity and popular culture that I am unable to overcome. The lawyers and business people who work in my building all seem perfectly nice, but I am totally unable to be attracted to them without some kind of indication that they have some sub-cultural/dance night/dive bar learnings. Of course, the only people I have eyes for are the 20-24 year old recent college grad interviewees and bike messengers that come into my office.

Then again, I have a problem with dating people who fit the physical and cultural profile, but are pretty pretentious. Sometimes I wonder if something in my brain chemistry is masochistic and subconsciously attracted to people who will sneer when I tell them I prefer to listen to Lil Wayne or Hot Chip than prog rock, anyday. Perhaps my Id is at war with my Superego. They've ended the cease-fire. I think I'm just going to contract out my life decisions from now on. I'm going to go the way of the economy and outsource my life decisions. The contract's up for bidding.

Learning to Love you More

2008-11-16T15:27:00.000-08:00

I sort of love Miranda July, I think "Me and You and Everyone You Know" was an amazing book/movie/art project.

And this website that she's a part of, Learning to Love you More , is one of my favourite internet projects to waste time looking at. You've probably seen it, but if you haven't, there are a number of assignments that visitors to the website accept, complete and document. The idea is that, as a collective, we're making an art project, and I think it's a neat thing to take part in. Often, creativity comes out of structure, as anyone who has struggled with writer's block, overwhelmed by the number possibilities, can understand. I sort of hated school, but the fact that it forces you to create all of these ideas and projects is kind of great, and we generally lack that after we leave school.

"Learning to Love You More is both a web site and series of non-web presentations comprised of work made by the general public in response to assignments given by artists Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher. Yuri Ono designs and manages the web site.
Participants accept an assignment, complete it by following the simple but specific instructions, send in the required report (photograph, text, video, etc), and see their work posted on-line. Like a recipe, meditation practice, or familiar song, the prescriptive nature of these assignments is intended to guide people towards their own experience.

Since Learning To Love You More is also an ever-changing series of exhibitions, screenings and radio broadcasts presented all over the world, participant's documentation is also their submission for possible inclusion in one of these presentations. Past presentations have taken place at venues that include The Whitney Museum in NYC, Rhodes College in Memphis, TN, Aurora Picture Show in Houston, TX, The Seattle Art Museum in Seattle, WA, the Wattis Institute in San Francisco CA, among others.
Since LTLYM inception in 2002 over 5000 people have participated in the project."

"The best art and writing is almost like an assignment; it is so vibrant that you feel compelled to make something in response. Suddenly it is clear what you have to do. For a brief moment it seems wonderfully easy to live and love and create breathtaking things. In this section we have archived some of the work that has commanded us in this way. In a sense, these are assignments -- in the same way that the ocean gives the assignment of breathing deeply, and kissing instructs us to stop thinking."

Assignment #30
Take a picture of strangers holding hands.
Kara Smith

Assignment #30
Take a picture of strangers holding hands.
Anthony Mehlhaff
Los Angeles, California USA

Assignment #55
Photograph a significant outfit.
"I wore this outfit the day that my girlfriend said she liked my friend, and after we broke up, I ended up kissing her sister and realized I don't like girls."
Karin Bunch
St. Petersburg, Florida USA

"I was wearing this the night I went to the Daft Punk concert."
Rafael Medeiros
Rio de Janeiro, BRAZIL

"What I was wearing the night he and I ended up dancing in the street at 6 AM"
Alba Mayol
Barcelona, SPAIN

Assignment #51
Describe what to do with your body when you die.
Caroline Knueppel
Milwaukee, Wisconsin USA

After I die i would like to donate my body to science under the condition that my skeleton, in it's entirety, will be cleaned up and displayed as my Final Self-Portrait.

Andrew Anthony Harrison
Wrexham, WALES

I wish my body to be shaved, every last hair to be removed. Then I want body art, the ones that raise the skin and create them weird ridges and horns put under my skin. Then I wish to have my body tattooed all over in the style of red and green scaly skin. Then, still naked, be put into a tank of formaldehyde, methanol, ethanol mix to preserve my body for as long as possible. The I wish the tank to be taken to public places all around the world and left there for as long as possible.

Melanie Harris
Toronto, Ontario CANADA

When I die, I would like for no one to be sad. I hate when people die, and I hate how long it takes for the sadness to go away. So, my wish is that everyone gathers together and stays happy. My body can be put in a box and cremated right away so I don't get all nasty. Then everyone can gather around my ashes and my parents will cook some foods for all my loved ones.
Everyone will drink French red wine from 2003, and eat a selection of cheeses chosen by my mother and father, together. There will be olives, and pastis, and absinthe, and some proscuitto on breadsticks. There will be no main course because my parents will be sad, and I don't want to burden them with having to cook all this shit for me if I'm not going to be there to eat it. I don't want my dead body around the food. Make sure my cat is there also, so that everyone can give him all the love he needs, and make sure my friend Laura takes Randy home with her, because I want him in good hands, and I know Randy likes gingers, so Monster can be a friend for him. Grumble too. Desert will be carrot cake, with the plastic people that my mom use to hide in the Easter loaf when we were kids. Whoever ends up with the plastic person (I think it was a king) will win a prize, I would say that the prize is all my stuff.... that person can go through my shit and take everything they want (Excepting Randy).

After the food, everyone can go to the room where my ashes are, and do their thing. Say whatever you feel like about me...the good and the bad; cause there will be lots of both.

After all this, my sister Alexia will have to bring my ashes to Switzerland. I want her to take me as carry-on luggage; I'm NOT going with the cargo. She can spread my ashes above Vevey, in Mt. Pelerin, or Signal de Bougy. Her choice. Tell everyone I am sorry for dying but don't be sad because it was my time to go.

Michael M.
Odenton, Maryland USA

I would simply like to be buried, completely intact, along with my gaming controllers that I have.

Assignment #37
Write down a recent argument.
Jeffrey Yamaguchi
Brooklyn, New York USA

Me: "You're not a real fan."
Wife: "I'm not a real fan? I'm not a real fan? What are you talking about?"
Me: "You're not a real fan."
Wife: "I was watching basketball way before you."
Me: "But you're not a real fan."
Wife: "I got you into basketball. I'm the real fan."
Me: "I'm the one who goes now. I go on just regular ol' nights and watch the games."
Wife: "You didn't even want to stay last night and watch the end of that Spurs game."
Me: "Yeah, but you only want to watch the playoffs
You're a playoff fan. Not a real fan. A playoff fan is the worst kind of fan."
Wife: "I wanted to stay last night."
Me: "I go all the time, though. See, I like to go and just hang out and drink beer and eat chicken wings."
Wife: "That's because you like the chicken wings."
Me: "It's because I'm a real fan."
Wife: "Yeah, you're a real fan
A real fan of chicken wings."

Assignment #37
Write down a recent argument.
Gemma Hamilton
Edinburgh, SCOTLAND

At my brother's apartment in Austin, Tx.
The guest toilet becomes blocked and water pours over the rim. My brother is in another room.
Siste
Brother comes running: What?
Sister: It won't stop. It's blocked.
Brother: Well turn it off.
Sister: How? I don't know how.
(Water is rapidly covering the bathroom floor).
Brother: Just turn it off.
Sister: How?! Tell me!
Brother: (agitated) Christ, you really are a retard. What on earth did you do to it? Ew, my feet are getting wet!
Sister: (shouting) Well then turn it off!
Brother: Cretin.
(Reaches the valve and finally stops the flow.)
Look at this place! How much paper did you use?
Sister: What? I didn't do it deliberately.
Brother: You just turn the valve to stop the flow.
Sister: Well I didn't know. My toilet at home doesn't have one.
Brother: They all have one. God, this is disgusting.
Sister: Mine's concealed, how was I supposed to know?
Brother: It's not bloody hard. Only you could do this.
Sister: Don't yell at me. These American toilets are weird, they block easily.
(Surveying the inch of water on the floor.) We need to clean this up. Do you have a mop and plunger?
Brother: No
Sister: Why?
Brother: 'Cause I don't go around blocking toilets. Christ. I don't even know a place that would sell one at this time.
Sister: HEB.
Brother: We've just come from there. Argh.
Sister: Look, we'll just drive back and pick up a mop, plunger and some bleach.
Brother: Right, that won't look dodgy in the slightest.
Sister: God, I'll fix it. OK?
(Brother leaves room).
Dick.

Assignment #37
Write down a recent argument.
Cindy
Seattle, Washington USA

Nick: Next time why don't you just give me a deadline for when you want me to reply!
Me: There is no deadline. It's just that I thought you were too busy to reply until I saw that you had time to make several postings on your blog. And what's worse is that one of your more elaborate postings contained a picture of some groceries you bought and a lengthy description of your purchases: "I got this mango, detergent and sponge for only 5NT!" Seriously? It's nice to know that I rank behind the oh-so-important sponge blog.
Nick: I'm not interested in fighting with you. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings but I'm afraid that I will do it again.
Me: No, you won't.

Assignment #63
Make an encouraging banner.
Ashley Rose
Fullerton, California USA

Assignment #63
Make an encouraging banner.
Verena Matuschek
Nordrhein-Westfalen, Muenster GERMANY

>

Write your life story in less than a day.
Anonymous
San Francisco, California USA

I was born in 1972, the day after my parents got married while stoned at the same church that Ron and Nancy Reagan were married. My parents and my half brother (who is 14 years older than me) lived in various apartment buildings in North Hollywood and then finally a house. I was a more or less happy, albeit very shy, child. The atmosphere in my house was one of extremes. Feast or famine, happy or sad, yelling or silence. My parents fought a lot and separated constantly. My mother was an alcoholic, my dad and brother, potheads. They were loving to me but not so much to each other.

When I was 10 we moved deeper into the San Fernando Valley. My mom stopped drinking. I had no friends and was miserable, until I met one friend and then another, who remains my best friend to this day. Countless days were spent trolling the hills and abandoned houses, looking for secret places to hide. My friends and I fantasized about meeting Duran Duran and covered our walls with posters. I started junior high right around the time my parents divorced and my dad moved out. He remarried soon after. I cried in the car when my mother told me.

In high school I met a group of people that I still know and who became my best friends throughout my teenage years. We did lots of drugs and spent summers driving through the Southwest, through Native American reservations, repairing houses, making out with each other, dropping acid. I hated school and ditched whenever possible, usually with my friend L, an artist with whom I would drive to downtown Los Angeles at every chance we got. I started hanging out at a café on 6th and La Brea and was introduced to artists, drag queens, dilettantes, drug addicts. My people. I fell in real super love with a guy and began a tortuous three year relationship with him in which we screwed around a lot but never committed to each other. It was very dramatic. I wrote about him a lot.

After barely graduating high school I went to community college and tried to become a beatnik. Met my first real official boyfriend and had sex for the first time, under the influence of muscle relaxants and rum and cokes. I was living back in the city with my mom, and things were good as she finally had a steady job. We made it through the LA riots. I went to lots of Jane's Addiction shows. I took a jazz appreciation class and started seeing jazz shows. The boyfriend dumped me once, and then again, after a bad mushroom trip. I started having anxiety attacks. I couldn't sleep until the sun came up. I couldn't be in a public place without feeling like I was going to drop dead or do something crazy. I filled up a big journal almost monthly. I thought I was possessed. I went a little insane. I smoked and drank a lot. Eventually, it passed.

I fell in love again. It was unrequited, but I didn't care. I just loved him. We took lots of road trips up and down the coast from SF to LA. I moved to Santa Cruz to go to college. Had a falling out with guy I loved. My mom lost her job, my dad lost his wife/; both had nervous breakdowns. My grandmother died. I lived with hippies. Hated SC. Discovered I wanted to be a writer. Didn't make it into the program. Barely ever went to class. Still suffered from anxiety attacks. Met a boy. Drank a lot with him. Started doing crystal methadrine. Got dumped by boy. Spent a summer in LA, working at the coffee shop I used to frequent as a teen. Had weird, random, glamorous in that druggie sort of way hook ups. Went back to SC and met another boy. Was dirt poor. Stupidly moved in with him. He didn't like me to leave the house. Slept on the kitchen floor a lot. Left him and went back to LA.
Went back to SC to finish college. Met a good boy. Loved him madly. Graduated with a degree in American Literature and moved up to Berkeley the next day. Stopped doing crystal methadrine. Worked at a French deli and at a film organization. Hated Berkeley. Moved back to SC. Lived with boyfriend then got my own place. Everyone was doing heroin except me. Moved to San Francisco.

Worked at a weekly newspaper in the personal ad department. Met two women who would become great friends. Quit smoking. Lost 40 pounds. Got another job at a book publisher. Had an alcoholic boss who slept with all her authors. Vowed to get out of corporate publishing. Worked in a local literary legend's living room for a year. Went insane and left there, too. Got some money from my great aunt and decided to drive to NY and back to clear my head.

Came back and fell into a random corporate job. Moved in with boyfriend. Broke up with boyfriend. Started smoking again. Gained back 20 pounds. Went out a lot. Met some fantastic people. Met some pretty stupid people. Met X. Became inseparable from her. Met a group of guys. She married one; I fell in and out of love with one. Went a little crazy. Started a magazine. Started playing drums. Joined a band. Met M. Became inseparable from him. Joined his band. Stopped hanging out with stupid people. Stopped drinking so much. Stopped doing things I don't like to do so much. Moved into my own place. And that's where I reside now.

This American Life

2008-11-12T12:56:00.001-08:00

So, I asked for responsibility, and I got it. I have 28 things on my afternoon to do list. I have 300 resumes to go through and choose who to conduct interviews with, 3 ads to write, and 40 invoices and checks to reconcile today, among a million other calls and emails to write and return. Yesterday, the day I got to fire someone for the first time (maybe a little too overly apologetic on my part), I received 7 emails between 5 and 5:30 (my end time) each asking me to take care of something by the end of the day. Ugh. All I could do is come home and crash and zone out in front of a movie. But I do really like being busy all day long, it's so much better than watching the clock.

My parents came to town and were so nice and bought me furniture and we ate good food and I got to show them around my new favourite city. It made me miss them and Vancouver even more. I will actually be in Vancouver in December.

Although I love Portland, if everything goes to plan, I may be jumping ship and moving to a sunnier climate 2009. Possibly. Settling down is way overrated, apparently. If I think back to where I thought I'd be at my old very advanced age when I was 15, to be truthful, I thought I'd be an internationally published writer living in New York or Paris in love with a man about 6 feet tall with dark hair and an accent. Ideally someone who could both appreciate arthouse films and who could also help me move. I also thought that this career thing would be all sorted out by now. But, funny thing happens, time passes much faster than I mature. And my age doesn't feel as old as I thought it would be. And funnier, life doesn't turn out how you think it will.

But, there are some upsides to my life. I've had a lot of adventures and made a lot of lemonade out of all of the proverbial lemons. For example, I know am handy with a screwdriver and wrench, thanks to my habit of dating musicians who aren't so inclined toward manual labour. I may have to carry my own groceries, but, yes, I am quite self-sufficient. We take it for granted now, but when you think about all those post-feminist years, it is actually somewhat gratifying to know that I am self-sufficient and could be for the rest of my life. I do like that I can pay my own bills and know how to change an oil can.

I could be moving to one of 8 cities in 3 countries in the upcoming year. But, you know, that's all dependent on people not turning down my school applications. Applying to grad school is kind of stressful, because you know your whole life is on hold and up in the air until they say yes. But....it's also kind of exciting.

But I do get easily excited.

Right now, I'm excited about my imminent sewing lessons, which will hopefully improve my imperfect technique, and I'm also really excited about signing up for a running club and road races. One of the more surprising things about me, if you haven't known me in that venue, is that I'm fairly competitive. It's just how I was raised by my Dad. I grew up with the mentality that you could never miss practice or games because of illness and that you should train, basically, until you were on the verge of collapse. If I'm training with someone else I'll basically kill myself rather than give up since I hate losing. When I start a workout regime, I workout obsessively until I can barely move my body and basically stop eating anything other than tofu, nuts, fruits, quinoa, and vegetables. I'm just starting to throw myself into another period of training. It's compulsive. Man, I'm such a dork.

When Paul came snowboarding with me last year for the first time, I think he was a bit shocked by the fact that I was better and stronger than him. I spent my entire life playing sports competitively, before the past few years, and I do miss that aspect of my life. Although I've kept fairly active since then, I'm never really motivated unless there's some kind of competition to motivate me, so I think I'm going to start training for road racing. I've also considered triathlons, except I'd have to seriously work on the cycling speed.

2008-11-10T23:03:00.000-08:00

I love nights where I get to nerd out and drink chamomile tea and listen to Billie Holiday, Sam Cooke, and Francoise Hardy.

As much as I like going out, I love being alone. I don't know if I can ever get married. I see a long future for myself living alone with a huge library with rolling ladders.

As happy as I was following the election of Barack Obama, I can't help but be disappointed following the result of the Prop 8 vote.

52% of California voters supported overturning the legalization of same sex marriage. The courts may still overturn the results of the vote, but it has left all of the recently married gay couples in legal limbo. It seems ridiculous that we're still talking about this in 2008. I think I tend to shelter myself in cliques of like-minded people. For instance, I don't think I could be friends with someone who was against gay marriage, pro-life, or voted for McCain. I'd rather not know, because that would mean they opposed everything I stand for.

I do actually understand the urge to be "fiscally conservative", but, in America especially, tight-fisted economic policies always seemed to be coupled with puritanical, bible-thumping, flyover-country values. I do understand the widespread frustration with people on welfare, especially since there are so many people who make up the working-poor.

But, after handling calls for the government on "welfare Wednesdays" in BC, I can tell you that most of those people are too overcome with mental illness to ever fully support themselves. Some people might be able to go through job-training, but so many just need social support. Anyone who signs up for the meager support offered by government programs, which pales in comparison to the earnings from full-time employment, must really need it, for whatever reason. I probably will never rely on the social welfare offered by Canada, but I like that it's there for others I could talk for hours on the welfare reform begun by the Clinton administration that was manipulated and changed in order to garner enough Republican support to pass (I am one of those losers who reads 300 page releases from political think takes on government policy- which is why I probably be cold and alone 25 years from now), but I won't

Although the Republican party makes it sound like the funding of social programs equals higher taxes, only 1% of last year's budget was devoted to social welfare. Most of it was, of course, devoted to the war. I have to say that the counties I've lived in, thus far, in America, have seemed really progressive. For example, Multnomah county offers free HIV testing and counselling in gay bars monthly.

Practically everyone I know is left-leaning, and, in a way, it's dangerous that I've sequestered myself in that way, since I'm somewhat ignorant of the amount of ignorance and prejudice that still exists in our society. I basically have blinders on when it comes to certain aspects of North American culture. I might nerd out and read reports on American foreign policy or have listened to the new Deerhunter record be up on the most exciting releases on the film festival circuit, but I have no concept of what music dominates the popular airwaves or who is winning on Dancing with the Stars. I couldn't even name the pro or college sports teams in Seattle or Portland (after a year of living in Seattle and eating vegetarian food in the University district, my Dad had to tell me the name of the University of Washington sports teams.....the Huskies). I'm always shocked when people tell me that one in ten people are gay, because in the circles I run in, it seems like it's more like 4 out of 10. My friends and I have lamented more than once that it's hard to find a cute straight man out there. In short, I have forgotten that there's this rightist segment of the population, and it's incredible to me that 52% of the Californian voters are anti gay marriage. It's hard to believe that there are so many ignorant and hateful people out there.

As much as I love some aspects of this country's culture, I hate the puritanical values that are still prevalent in American culture. The large Catholic and Mormon support for Prop 8 just reinforces my resistance to organized religion (there are many great things about Christianity and all religions, I just think it's unfortunate that these close-minded people use religious rhetoric to discriminate against others). Although I am not religious, I don't think there's anything wrong with having faith and I don't think there's anything wrong with most of the teachings of Christianity, I just hate when certain people cherry-pick religious teachings to endorse their own close-minded beliefs. It's shameful that, in 2008, a large contingent of the population is still denied the right to marry whomever they want.

There are exceptions to this. Once, I went to a wedding of two lesbians in an Anglican church in the west end of Vancouver, and the minister gave an inspiring sermon on the acceptance inherent in God's love for humans and humans love for each other, and it was amazing to see someone use religious rhetoric, so often manipulated for the sake of condemnation, to argue for the acceptance of others.

I do feel proud of Canada for, rightly, legalizing same-sex marriage (although that should've occurred years earlier, as well). One of my friends in Seattle, an Australian lesbian who fell in love with an American, isn't even allowed to work or, go to school in this country since she is not allowed to marry her partner of seven years. Instead, she keeps paying to extend her "pleasure visa" and will have to choose between pursuing graduate studies or staying here with her girlfriend.

On a more positive note, I am so happy that my Uncle was able to marry his partner of 20 years and that they were both able to move from New York to Vancouver.

Anyway, if anyone reading this is from Vancouver, my Uncle Sean is in the midst of running for city council and doing some pretty amazing things. You can read about it here . I know I was always woefully ignorant about civil politics, despite living within city limits for a number of years, but I think it's really critical to vote to maintain and protect the diverse and exciting culture of Vancouver. So, do read about it and vote!

2008-11-06T22:27:00.000-08:00

Election night here was a pretty amazing thing to experience. It's pretty cool to stand in a room full of jaded kids all cheering and unabashedly crying. It made me really happy and filled me with such hope. I'm sure I mentioned this before but, after watching stock footage from protests and speeches from 1968, I said that I couldn't imagine my generation being filled with such optimism rather than pervasive apathy. But skepticism and activism often follow each other, and it's pretty overwhelming to see this kind of camraderie over shared political ideals. I was talking to another non-American about how this country displays both the best and worst aspects of culture,and, suddenly I feel like my faith in people is renewed. It doesn't mean I'm planning on staying away from my home forever, though.

2008-11-01T17:24:00.000-07:00

I'm really nervous/excited about work next week, 3 weeks after working there, I've suddenly been given more responsibility than I've ever had in a workplace.

It's hilarious, all last week the head people at the company had me take a battery of psychological and SAT-type tests (with lots of questions like if Steve sold more than Bob, and Bob sold more than Alex and James than who sold....), but, at the end they told me I did "really, really" well, whatever that means, and told me I'm going to be being groomed for a new position as of next week.

A part of me misses a fun job where I'm surrounded by people my own age- no one I work with is below 40- and I find myself gossiping with the baristas and bike messengers as a relief from having to act so grown up and, in ways, older than I am.

I am not yet getting paid more, but I have my first salary negotiations in 30 days, so we'll see.

Although I am making enough to be okay and pay rent at my cute apartment there are certain things I want, desperately. After not having much money for awhile, it takes a while to catch up. I tell myself that I don't care much about money, and I don't, really, but every so often, I start to yearn for things I can't afford. I can't even remember the last time I spent over 12 dollars on a piece of clothing (thank god for thrift stores). Lately I feel horrendously frumpy and stuck-in-a-rut and unfashionable. And this whole move-starting-over thing has really messed up my budget, especially since I was just getting settled in Seattle. This has been exacerbated by my recent selling off of most of my wardrobe (I shouldn't complain, there's more than enough left) to fund my life. So far I've resisted selling my favourite things that I've unearthed, like my battered vintage Chanel and Dior bags, and Sass & Bide jeans, and Marc Jacobs flats. I'm trying to convince myself that I don't need material goods, but sometimes I just want them so badly.

But, these are the things I really, really want:

A digital SLR
A bass guitar + amp
A new laptop
Lots of records
A motorcycle (I already tried to buy one, but my Mom and Dad told me that if I bought one, I'd be financially cut off forever and I wimped out at the thought of paying for grad school by myself. Also, I thought I should probably wait for my health insurance to kick in before I dumped my bike all over town).
A vintage armchair
A kitchen table
A fast road bike.
A new Snowboard jacket.
On that note, a season pass to Mt. Hood.
A Marc Jacobs Purse.
Pattern making classes so I can learn to design my own sewing patterns.

But, of course, I tend to spent most of my cash on travel and moving.

I guess, in my life, as they say, the only constant is change. I've been working for about 10 years now, and have never stayed at a job longer than a year. I have never stayed living in one place for longer than a year, either, since I've left high school.

I change plans almost as often as I change outfits. I am never happier than during the departure for a move or vacation....the hum of the motor of the car or plane fills me with such anticipation. I love looking out a plane window and watching the houses below shrink in diameter until they become obscured by distance.

Often, the anticipation is the best part.

I don't know what I've been searching for...maybe I'm just waiting for one place to feel like home or one job to feel like a career or....etc.

Almost as exciting is when a film is enthralling enough to lend the viewer a similar sense of escapism and adventure.

One visually exciting film I saw last week, is the Hong Kong film "2046". It is written and directed by Wong Kar-wai and is a loose sequel (accompaniment?) to "In the Mood for Love" and "Days of Being Wild"

Glenn Kenny, of Premiere Magazine wrote that the film's

"Insanely evocative ’60s-style landscapes and settings share screen space with claustrophobic futuristic CGI metropolises; everyone smokes and drinks too much; musical themes repeat as characters get stuck in their own self-defeating modes of eternal return. A puzzle, a valentine, a sacred hymn to beauty (particularly that of Ziyi Zhang, almost preternaturally gorgeous and delivering an ineffable performance), and a cynical shrug of the shoulders at the damned impermanence of it all, 2046 is a movie to live in."

And Ty Burr of the Boston Globe wrote that

"Is it worth the challenge? Of course it is. Wong stands as the leading heir to the great directors of post-WWII Europe: His work combines the playfulness and disenchantment of Godard, the visual fantasias of Fellini, the chic existentialism of Antonioni, and Bergman's brooding uncertainties."

The visual style of the film, which combines early 60's glamour with futuristic science fiction elements, is absolutely stunning. I thought it was sort of amazing.

2008-10-26T01:32:00.002-07:00

I just read Vladimir Nabokov's "The Real Life of Sebastian Knight". I can't believe I haven't read it until now; I agree with the critic michael dirda's assertion that "questions lie at the heart of nabakovian fiction, a fiction full of ambiguity, traps for the unwary, camoflaged clues, tongue-in cheek parody, and dizzying paradoxes". This was his first novel written in English. With Nabakov, nothing is ever as it first appears, but what really kills me is the beauty of his language: "possibly underappreciated, are the novel's atmospheric vignettes: scenes of old Russia, romantic Paris between the wars, rain- swept Cambridge.These imbue "The Real Life of Sebastoan Knight" with a distinct period feel, one reminiscent of so many grainy, shadowy 1930s black-and-white films".

Tonight I was let in free too see Glass Candy, Farah, Nite Jewel and more at Rotture, a bar that has good dance nights every weekend and a rad soul night on Thursdays. Next to Holoscene, it's my favourite PDx venue for dance nights.

And, next week at work, I get to start writing ad copy. I mean, it's not exactly the equivalent of publishing an essay in McSweeneys, but nonetheless, it is nice to have my boss think I'm a good writer capable of writing ads (that being said, writing ads does feel a little weird after allow those years spent supporting adbusters, but.....).

Also, I always feel a little shy about people I don't know that well reading this (and for some reason, I know people are) because I do worry that I must come off as more emotional, self- centered, and neurotic than the relatively happy and fun girl I am in real life, but.......oh well, that's what I guess happens when I update this while drinking wine all alone in my apartment late at night: even a girl as prickly as a porcupine and as impervious (impenetrable?) as.....a rain jacket ( that's so cheesy) lets her guard down and becomes a little sensitive.

2008-10-26T01:32:00.001-07:00

2008-10-22T19:06:00.001-07:00

My belly's still full from last night's dinner at The Farm Cafe , a lovely restaurant in an old house that focuses on locally-sourced fresh food. We drank Pinot Noir and gorged ourselves on rosemary roasted hazelnuts, baked Brie, herb crusted tofu with mushroom Marsala sauce, and goat cheese ravioli with fresh basil, pecorino, and hazelnuts. It's funny, I hate packaged junk food, but I'm happy to indulge on really good fresh food and wine. It was just such a charming place to celebrate the 28th birthday of the boy I'm dating. After that we drank pumpkin ale and watched The Pineapple Express at the 3 dollar theatre.

I love night's filled with good people and good food. It is undeniably nice to have someone who wants to celebrate their birthday on a date with me.

Despite what people say about getting old and boring, I think each year just gets more and more fun. You know, I think right now is a pretty amazing time in life.

Don't fall in love with the autograph

2008-10-17T22:16:00.000-07:00

Another Friday night spent on the couch drinking wine and reading Nabakov. Sometimes, I think these are my favourite kinds of Friday nights.

Although I do really like going out too. I actually think I'm starting a 1990s dance night (it was their idea, I just talked my way in) with 3 others and I have to come up with a DJ name. I guess girl DJs are always somewhat marketable?

If anyone has any ideas....

It's funny, I got really mad today, and I don't usually. But, and I think this is characteristic of women in the post-feminist era, I hate not being taken seriously. I always feel like I'm in kind of a dilemma, because obviously, I want to be considered attractive, but I also want to be heard.

I always feel like, in relationships, at some point, boyfriends abandon all pretense at intelligent conversation and begin talking to me like I'm some kind of wriggly puppy. Nothing makes me grouchier than being genuinely upset about something and having someone grab my cheeks, make a face, and say "you look so cute when you're mad."

Sometimes I feel like I'm some kind of accessory. And I'm not saying that I think this happens because I'm unusually attractive, but I think, sometimes, my love for dresses and vintage things and old jewelry and silver tea trays and sleepovers and picnics and vegan cupcakes, in other words "cute and pretty things" distracts people from the fact that I'm a person with, if maybe the not the most revelatory, valid things to say. I just have always believed that life, at least for us in (relatively) democratic nations, doesn't have to be a struggle. It isn't frivolous or superficial to want things to be beautiful and lovely. What's the point if you're not having fun? Sometimes, I think that people who are so serious about being a serious artist and intellectual must harbor some insecurities. Many of the most intelligent people I know are also the silliest.

Maybe this condescension is characteristic of people who consider themselves "artists" or amateur philosophes. Or maybe, this problem isn't gender-specific.

As frustrating as it is, it also is really, simply, incredibly boring to have someone talk about how cute they think your expressions are for hours.

Why do we share our excitement about life and interests with people we just meet for the first time, but not for the people we've known for years? Or maybe, it's hard to let people who know you so well see your new aspirations and ideas, because we fear criticism? Why is it so hard to find someone fascinating once you know all of their quirks? Do you think we're more ourselves with people we meet for the first time or people we see everyday? On the one hand, when we meet someone new, we're unburdened by any kind of attachment, expectations, or baggage. We are, essentially, free to create and invent a new sense of ourselves in the eyes of this person. There is a certain kind of freedom. And, maybe, that's partly what's so attractive about new people. There is also something indescribably amazing about connecting with anyone, be it friend or crush, for the first time. I, at least, love the intoxicating feeling of having a really really good conversation with someone for the first time. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's really good. Maybe it's just refreshing, in the age of fast food relationships, to meet genuine people and get to know them beyond their Facebook interests or the social capital they flaunt. I do wonder, from time to time, what happened to the people I've spent hours talking to at different points in my life that I lost along the way. One time, I met a boy at a party when I was 17, and we talked all night, and forgot to exchange numbers before leaving. About 5 years later, we met at a party, sort of stared at each other all night, and finally, begrudgingly admitted that we had both recognized the other, instantly.

Maybe that's part of the reason that we move and travel, to momentarily gain freedom from the shackles of our past. Everytime I've broken up with someone or had a really bad week, I've been tempted to cut ties and take off from my life.

But maybe, who we are is who we are with the people we've known for years or see everyday before we've prettied our insides and outsides for public consumption. Maybe none of the pretensions we adopt or the bullshit we bat around really matter. Maybe who we are is once we're disarmed of this struggle to impress, our fairy glamour, if you will.

Do you think everyone finds everyone silly and boring after a while?

Can't someone be frivolous and intelligent?

What was the point of this again? I lost my fucking thesis.

Some kind of English major I am. Finding a point in my posts is like finding a...... clean needle on East Hastings.

2008-10-16T22:49:00.001-07:00

I am too depressed about the state of the world in the wake of that the re-election of that wanker, Stephen Harper.

I can't even talk about it.

2008-10-14T20:07:00.001-07:00

I hope everyone voted against Stephen Harper....poll day was today, wasn't it? I don't even know- the US news never really covers Canada. I voted by proxy.

It's crazy....

you know how you could be single for ages (an astute person could, at this point, gently suggest that I've never been single for ages)....and you only meet loser after loser, and then, once you finally land on a good boy and snap him up, suddenly cute and charming boy after boy emerges from the proverbial woodwork?

Well, same thing with jobs. I finally take a job I like, and employers keep calling.....it does make me wonder a little if it's reprehensible to quit a job for a better opportunity a week after your start date? I once read an article that said that, on average, a person will change their career 7 times before the age of 30. At the time, I was shocked, but then I realized it was only because I never equated my "day jobs" with "careers". Probably a symptom of my female version of the Peter Pan syndrome.

But, I like my current job so far. It's kind of cool that I get to review resumes for openings throughout the pacific northwest and deal with payroll/employee issues from portland, seattle and spokane, and everywhere in between. In the future, I will be taking business trips to- wait for it- Spokane, Seattle, and Vancouver, BC. So, maybe not the most exciting locations for a business trip for me, personally, but it will be kind of cool if I get to work out of Seattle and Vancouver and visit people there.

For some reason, my employers think I have a future in "sales"- I have to say, it's nothing I've ever imagined myself in, but, it can't be that hard to charm a bunch of old men in suits at business dinners, right? I do sort of wish that the VP of sales hadn't spent the entire business meeting today staring at my legs under the table, but hey, whatever.

This weekend was pretty mellow...but I did see a couple of good shows.

I did see Ponytail , who erupted from the emerging Baltimore music scene and High Places (I think out of Brooklyn?) and they're both pretty rad bands.

High Places photo by Pitchfork

Ponytail photo by Pitchfork

I also went to see "The Oh Sees" from the Bay area at a neighbourhood bar....it was a really good show, too. I think they're somehow associated with Seattle's "The Intelligence", who are very Seattle band that everyone I knew made fun of (I really have to stop hanging out with anarchist noise punks, it makes me so easily impressed by people who are nice) but I actually liked.

On Sunday, I went to a benefit for the Portland Radio Authority, an internet radio station at the East End. I recently wrote a long-winded article about the challenges that independent radio faces, and it's become increasingly important to keep these media outlets open and operating.

Also, I watched the film "The Painted Veil" and I thought it was stunning and perfectly subtle...although the boy that fell asleep on the couch beside me might disagree. I never saw the original film, which starred (I believe) Greta Garbo, but I read the novel by W. Somerset Maugham ages ago.

2008-10-09T12:08:00.000-07:00

3 boring housekeeping things about meI want to talk about:

also, never organize your email at happy hour (yes, I am that old now) because your festive fingers will mix up the delete and reply buttons. And, yes, send out accidental emails. Lots of them.

1. I am planning to be in Vancouver and Seattle (sooner) at points within the next two months. And, possibly, (later) San Francisco and Mexico. There are things I want in Vancouver, like my snowboard, bike, and table, so I might rent a car at some point and road trip it, so if you know of anyone who would like to take a fun trip from Portland or Seattle to Vancouver & back.....I'm an excellent road vacation partner. A crappy roommate, but, a fabulous vacation partner.

or, alternatively, if anyone wants to plan a weekend in the Bay area with me....let's do that.

2. I found a job. I was kind of hoping they'd want me to start...in a week or two, but they want me to start...tomorrow.

Unfortunately, it's only 5-6 hours a day, but after being offered these stupid customer service/receptionist jobs which, while fine, would be boring and easy, I really wanted to take it, especially since one economist described the Portland economy as a bunch of "overqualified underemployed college grads serving coffee to each other".

I'm going to be working in human resources in the personnel department. I get to interview candidates all day, do background/reference checks, and see if they would be a good fit with jobs.

It would be good money if it was full-time, but I think it's going to become full-time at some point in the near future, and there's tons of room for growth, which is super good. It's sort of a starting point, but they could really see me in a more strategic sales and marketing position once there's an opening.

But for the next couple of months, until the new position opens up, I either need to be super good with money or find something extra as well- like work in a store or, or bar or something, blah. Especially because there are things I would like to buy...a new camera, a vehicle, a new bicycle, a snowboard jacket, a surfboard.

3. If you haven't, do read "Geek Love". I think I avoided it because, despite the awards it won, I just assumed it was like...High Fidelity for the World of Warcraft set, but it's not. It's a fascinating novel about a family of freaks and carnies.

I don't know if I've felt so uncomfortable reading descriptive narrative since Middlesex. But it's amazing and engrossing....

You tell me that you've heard every sound there is

2008-10-07T22:00:00.000-07:00

This American Life:

1. I filled out my first US tax form. Well over two decades in Canada and I still don't understand taxes there....doubtful I'll pick it up here, either. What's this 401K Business? Where are they taking the money to? Why would I want to add extra to this?

I feel like I could star in some kind of takeoff on "The Simple Life." Yes, those are real questions.

2. I took my first drug test ever. I'm not sure if I made a faux pas by not placing the cup full of, well, you know, back into the bag before walking through the office hallway. Only 17 people saw my cup. Is there an etiquette book for this?

Yes, I passed. As if there was any question.

3. It's refreshing and nice to sit in an interview and have someone tell you what an interesting life you have (I have). I always have a hard time "selling" myself to other people seriously, if you ask me my taste in music, I'm more likely to share my most embarassing mid-1990s guilty pleasures than the more-socially acceptable albums I just bought. I think, sometimes, I end up selling myself short and people end up underestimating me. This is kind of a theme in my life. I can be sort of giggly and social and discuss pop culture and, to some people, this conveys a lack of intelligence or seriousness.

It's also really nice when someone makes it seem like all the traveling and volunteer work I've done has been worthwhile....

4. I have job interviews upcoming.

5. Come visit my lonesome self this November, por favor. So far, my weekends are open. I will be cold and wet like a bedraggled cat. I'll be all alone. All alone! Well, not really, I do have some friends.

I know it's sacrilegious for a native-born Vancouverite to say, but I hate our weather. I've talked to countless people who were fooled into moving to Seattle after spending a glorious summer in the area, only to encounter the drizzly gray that defines our fall/winter/spring. I often read these ridiculously laudatory type of articles, most recently, in The Oregonian (I do not recommend that paper, it's no Sunday Times), about how the rainy weather in the Pacific NW leads to a rich-inside life with coffee, beer, books, conversation, etc. In my opinion, that's just romanticizing the fact that it's too shitty to go outside for ten months of the year.

This is partially due to my innate hatred for gortex and fleece. The crisp Fall I dress for in my head (I think it's in Boston) is not the rainy Fall that is my reality. I never can quite master the layering thing. I am always too wet, too hot, or too cold, and it's always such an ordeal to figure out how to get to the bar looking socially presentable without having to lug around a coat and umbrella on the dance floor. Such an ordeal, in fact, I really prefer to go into hibernation between October and March.

6. Changes are afoot.

You got me chasing honey bees

2008-10-04T10:55:00.000-07:00

It's funny, you don't really notice yourself getting older, and all of a sudden you look at photos and realize you look all grown up....One day you're all baby-faced and then, a few years later, you look like an adult.

I can't figure out if I like it or not. I mean, not how I look, which is fine as always (we don't really get a say in such things, so why lament), but looking like a....grown up. I constantly meet people (not anyone reading this or any of my friends, since I don't make passive aggressive comments like that, plus I have really attractive friends & family) who I'm convinced are ten years older than me and then I find out they're around my age.

Of course, a lot of it is the social cues you send out based on the way you look/dress. I do wonder if I'm supposed to be dressing like a "grown up" now.

But, it just goes to show the disparity between how we perceive ourselves and how others perceive us.

I don't really dress like a kid but I don't exactly dress like a Banana Republic model.

In a way, I like not being a kid, because when you're 20, you can sort of rely on just being sort of cute and young, and when you're older, you really try to create interesting things and amass interesting experiences. It becomes increasingly imperative to have something of consequence to say.

It is funny, I do remember feeling so shy and intimidated when I was 19 compared to how I am now. I like that I feel confident enough to have fun with lots of different people and assert myself.

But it is weird how in the space of, oh, two years, people go from patting you on the head and saying things like "oh, you have time. you're young" to expecting things of you and treating you like an adult.

I glide by slip a cigarette in your bed

2008-10-03T10:08:00.000-07:00

There is no First Thursday
like a First Thursday spent with an anarchist commune that travels by a converted bus drinking home-brewed Blackberry Absinthe Beer (apparently).

Also, I forgot to mention, but 16mm has a preview of their video shoot on their website here. You win at life if you can guess which director/actress they're, ahem, inspired by.

2008-09-30T15:09:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, Oliver, the frontman for "A Place to Bury Strangers" was kind enough to guestlist my broke ass to see their show at the Doug Fir. The Doug Fir is funny, it just seems so LA to me, like young professionals do "hipster".

But it's a nice place, although the crowd on Saturday was a little bit too "bridge and tunnel" for my liking. Anyways, new friends John and Candy were telling me about how their band (with Paul) Cold Metal is playing an upcoming fundraiser for their friends' bus trip across the continent. To me, this is my dream. They bought a black bus that, I believe (but my mind invents things after two gin and tonics) will run on vegetable oil and they have it all set up and can even brew beer on it! And they're planning on funding their trip by throwing parties and selling beer.

Amazing! A traveling bus microbrewery? That coupled with the feature in this month's Bust Magazine called "Field of Dreams" about three nomadic friends who travel around the US farming and attending bluegrass festivals has given me a severe case of wanderlust. I am so tempted to sell most of my possessions and....buy a bus. We'll see. Anyways, the bus myspace is

here.

Also, I saw Burn After Reading last night, and it is amazing. I just died in the theater. Of course, everyone who was with me started laughing hysterically and comparing me to Brad Pitt's character since I'm the only one anyone knows who works out in spandex while dancing to my IPOD. Yes, sometimes I do dance a little bit while running in place at intersections. I can't help it when LCD Soundsystem comes on.

The preview doesn't do it justice. I loved "No Country for Old Men" but it was so time for the Coen brothers to do another comedy. Plus I had to love they made a couple of jokes at the expense of Seattle. The Portland crowd loved it too.

It is kind of funny- everyone in Seattle was like "why are you moving to Portland? it's so boring, there's nothing to do there" and everything down here says the same thing about Seattle. I didn't hate the city. Before I moved down there, the summer of 2007, I thought it was so fun, but that was partly because I went to all of those house parties and shows with people who since moved to San Francisco. I just, because of various life developments, had nothing tying me there as of September.

Left in Dark Times

2008-09-30T13:52:00.000-07:00

The life of the unemployed is surprisingly busy. I feel like the aimless protagonist in Hornby's "About a Boy" who wonders how people ever found the time to fit work in. I could feel quite fulfilled retiring....now, I'm not going to lie. I just started to look for a job this week, unfortunately.

Anyone want to hire an over-educated under-experienced under-achieving girl? My greatest work strength: Coordination of outfit with accessories.
My greatest work weakness: procrastination, laziness, disorganization, general malaise, internet time-wasting, tardiness....

Do hire me. I've been trolling the Goodwills looking for socially acceptable work outfits (since I realized that not one of the 75 or so skirts and dresses I own extends past mid-thigh, I would definitely not pass the fingertip test at a Catholic school). Somehow, I've spent my entire life up until now totally unaware of how to dress "business professional" and "business casual". I keep calling my mom and describing outfits to her and asking if it says what I'm trying to convey: that I'm not the type of girl who frequents dive bars until 5 AM on a Tuesday. So, I'm looking for a costume. Speaking of costumes, does anyone else find their favourite outfits in the Goodwill costume section? It's my favourite next to the little girl dress section. Speaking of costumes, I'm trying to make this exact outfit for Halloween:

Yes, I'm going as Dawn Weiner for Halloween:

Onward and upward:

I went to see the French philosopher Bernard Henri-Levy last week on his book tour to promote his latest release, "Left in Dark Times".

The title is an approximate translation of a Sartre quote and, in English, works as a pun: the "left" can refer to the liberal movement he is criticizing.

BHL, as he's known in France, has been both acclaimed and derided. I haven't read the book yet since I'm still on hold at the library, but I've read quite a bit about his argument. The New York Times review ishere. His argument in this book has been misunderstood, in many ways, if the irate sixtysomethings in the audience were any indication of the general consensus. All of the baby boomers, understandably, get rather testy when there is a perceived attack on the liberal cause. I am left wing, more so than the American democratic party, but some of his critique did resonate with me.

Although he generally aligned himself with the left and protested over the Vietnam war, his support of the American intervention in Iraq (which, obviously, I was always against, not that I have any kind of say) has been particularly controversial.

The book begins with a call from Nicholas Sarkozy, the now-French President, asking for Levy's endorsement (in his speech, Levy did take a bit of a jab at North American culture when he suggested that, true enough, no American politician would ask for a writer's endorsement) in his campaign for the presidency.

Levy refuses and explains that the left is his family, and Sarkozy offers a few valid criticisms of the Left movement, at least in France.

Anyways, the Times can explain it better than I can, but, I did agree with his suggestion that the Left tends to get trapped in the prevailing or trendy paradigm or dialectic of the time, which influences their perception of current events and causes them to ignore events that do not fit into that dialogue.

According to Levy, the defining dialectic right now has to do with (all interrelated) globalization, anti-Americanism, post-colonialism, and anti-Imperialism.

For example, he suggests that the liberal cause is, albeit mostly justifiably, quick to blame American imperialism for all the evils in the world, and, regardless or whether this assertion is correct, it doesn't explain everything.

Levy critiques the left for being too laissez-faire by not wanting to interfere and impose western ideals onto other nations. By allowing, in his assessment, immoral governments the right of unchecked self-determination, we do the subjugated groups in that country a disservice. Levy suggests that this liberal resistance to globalization and cultural American-imperialism is responsible for the lack of "universal values" today. His belief is that we should impose our ideals of democracy, equality, freedom of expression, and justice onto developing (for lack of a better term, I realize that one is controversial) nations that mistreat their population.

I agree with this to a certain extent. I agree with the sentiment at the heart of it, but if we have someone like George W. Bush imposing their values on other nations, it always seems to be a cover for oil interests, no? Advocating for political intervention in other nations, not like it doesn't already exists is kind of a dangerous justification for......any number of of economic and political interests.

We do have international intervention, with the International Monetary Fund, hahahahah. Joking.

Also, I don't really know if the American government, for example, is preferable to that of socialist-communist countries. I'm really not sure. For example, the American news coverage of Venezuela is so biased, but Chavez also engages in some pretty heavy press censorship himself. Same with Cuba.

But I do agree that humanitarian intervention and prevention of genocide and subjugation is important. Levy suggests that Republicans have co-opted humanitarianism as a cover for their economic interests and, consequently, the same kind of humanitarianism has become distasteful for leftists.

I do agree that humanitarianism should be universal, not political, but I'm not sure if it's possible.

It is interesting to listen to Levy's critique of the post-colonial paradigm, and how that whole mode of thought is severely outdated, and the same argument is prevalent in current critiques of Latin America. Those critiques generally suggest that post-colonialism defines a country by oppression, whereas, in order to progress (another loaded term) and become more self-reliant, the country needs to develop its own identity (and well, pay back its IMF debt, hah).

Here is an article by Levy in the New York Times discussing his point of view more eloquently than I can:‘Left in Dark Times’: The First Chapter

I know Levy's so famous, but I first took notice of him when I was a preteen reading an interview of him and his wife in, I believe, Vanity Fair. To me, they seemed so lovely and French, that it precipitated a life-long desire to move to France and become chic.

I don't think he's the most brilliant writer/philosophe ever, if anything, he is a good speaker and self-promoter, but I did like how he said how strange it was that Americans are all obsessed with the Stock Market.

That does make me feel a little better about my total ignorance about such matters. Even in light of yesterday's stock market crash. In my defense, I do have ADD, but somehow my total lack of concentration only really manifests itself when I find something boring. Oh, I know the stock market can be interesting once you consider all of the contributing factors, but the issue is that these stock and financial people are usually shitty writers. I mean, accountants aren't universally praised for their communication skills. That's what I tell myself to make myself feel better about my lack of academic/work prowess: that I have "people skills". Except I don't really, I'm kind of a condescending jerk sometimes (hopefully in a somewhat charming way?) and I'm totally cynical. Oh, and I don't really like that many people. I'm working on it. My mom says that's "discerning," which is partly why I love my mom.

One of my life goals is to become a nicer person. I sort of am.

One day, I hope.

And only related in that she epitomizes that French "je ne sais quoi" that I, sadly, will never quite possess, and I have a strange love for French pop music, Francoise Hardy:

Tax Rates

2008-09-26T13:53:00.001-07:00

Money: Canada VS. America

Disclaimer: I've never handled my own tax return (when I called the Canada tax people- edit: the Canada Revenue Agency- about my rebate cheque, they laughed at me since I knew quite literally nothing about my income or deductions for the previous year), so this knowledge is really up for correction.

Everytime someone discusses universal healthcare with me, they end up saying, "it would be nice, but I suppose you must pay so much in taxes"...

Well, let's see.

As far as I can tell, despite what everyone says, American taxes aren't any lower than Canada's (except if you live in a state, like Washington, where you don't pay state income tax), and Canada's tax, well, covers health care and other nice things.

As far as I can tell, provincial and federal tax in Canada, if you live in BC runs from 20%-around 44%. Also, for practically every moderately poor (I think making under 37,000 a year) young person I know, we receive this nice cheques from the government which total to about 400/year in sales tax rebates.
Recently, I just got a cheque for about 100 to "fight climate change" in my community.

Federal tax rates for 2008 are:

* 15% on the first $37,885 of taxable income, +
* 22% on the next $37,884 of taxable income (on the portion of taxable income between $37,885 and $75,769), +
* 26% on the next $47,415 of taxable income (on the portion of taxable income between $75,769 and $123,184), +
* 29% of taxable income over $123,184.

British Columbia Tax Rates are:

5.24% on the first $35,016 of taxable income, +
7.98% on the next $35,017, +
10.5% on the next $10,373, +
12.29% on the next $17,230, +
14.7% on the amount over $97,636

U.S.A.

For 2008, the Federal tax brackets for a single (unmarried) person are:[1]

* 10%: from $0 to $8,025
* 15%: from $8,026 to $32,550
* 25%: from $32,551 to $78,850
* 28%: from $78,851 to $164,550
* 33%: from $164,551 to $357,700
* 35%: $357,701 and above

And in Oregon, for example, the tax rates range from 5% to 9%.

So, it is fairly comparable. If you make lots of money in Canada, you're taxed at 44%, and in Oregon you're taxed at 44% too (although you don't pay sales tax in Oregon).

There are a couple major differences in tax deductions though. One major one is that interest paid on mortgages in the US can be used as a tax deduction, and there is no limit to this. You could own 35 homes, or so many you're not sure how many you own (like my pal John McCain), and that just adds to your tax deductions.

And, that, obviously, benefits middle class to upper class people (bigger the mortgage interest, the larger the deduction, as far as I understand).

Another thing, which I don't believe that is deductible in the US, but is in Canada, is school tuition. I'm not sure though- I asked Paul a year ago, but he had no idea. He fronts as a self-sufficient skid, but he never really had to pay his own tuition/rent in Philly.

Of course, tuition is generally lower in Canada since we don't really have "private" universities. It's like if, hypothetically, you were from the US, you were from New Mexico, and could pay in-state college tuition at Yale and Harvard. And, I'm too lazy to google this, but I believe that the most expensive law school tuition in Canada is around 12,000 at the University of Toronto. In contrast, I believe law school tuition in the US usually runs between 30-40,000 a year. This, obviously, creates less of a two-tier society...but, I'll stay on topic.

But, for example, the tax credits I earn on my tuition have meant that I basically haven't ever had to pay tax in Canada. I can also transfer them to my parents to compensate for them helping me out at school or I can transfer them to my future earnings. This means that, if you went to school for 4 years but didn't really make any money, you can use the tax credits you accumulated during school and apply it to your post-graduation income for up to 5 years. I believe this is the case.

Off-topic, but another nice thing is that if you're struggling with student loan debt and not making very much money for a while, you can apply for "interest relief" for up to 3 years, I think, if you can't afford the payments.

So what it comes down to is that the mortgage tax break helps people with money and school tax break helps people like me.

I'm only thinking about this now since I'm looking for jobs in Portland, Oregon.

Another thing is that it seems like the executive positions in the US generally pay higher salaries than in Canada (as in a few hundred thousand) but the "other" jobs pay a lot less.

I keep coming across these jobs with lists and lists of requirements, and the salary is something laughable, like 19,000.

I really really hate applying for jobs, which is what I'm doing right now. I hate it so much, I'm tempted to return to school.

2008-09-23T15:00:00.000-07:00

For no reason at all...Sparks is exciting to us Canadians, since we don't have it at home.

A certain someone borrowed (well, took, let's just call it for what it is) my digital camera when they went eastward so I've been biking around this week taking photos of my new city(real road bikes work sooo much better than old cruisers, it's amazing, now I bike ride for miles and miles, I haven't taken a bus in days) using my old film camera to take photos of my new home.

It's a really nice old camera, but it is weird to readjust once again to waiting to see how the photos will turn out. And-somehow there's just something nice about feeling the weight of a manual camera in your hands. It's like unearthing a record in the dusty stacks in the back of a dingy store in a small town somewhere versus downloading a file on soulseek- the internet revolution really left me in the dust. And I know it's a far-gone pop culture cliche to mention, but CD-R's really took the romance right out of mix tapes. Even in the post-High Fidelity age, I would still melt for a mix tape in 2008. Especially since I really came of dating age in the burning CDs era. Hell, especially if someone played it out of a boom box and stood on a car and held it up outside my window....hah.

Anyways, I still feel that it takes way nicer photos than any digital camera, so hopefully I can charm someone into letting me use their scanner, so I can show off my photo adventures.

Being alone is a funny thing. Living alone is always thought it would be something I would like. I like the feeling of playing the music loud and drinking wine and hanging out in slips and being shut off from the world- but then, I get it, and I start to feel a little bit lonely. I guess I've never been alone for too long- I've been dating consistently since I was 16- so maybe I've never allowed myself the time to get comfortable with not having anyone to call, sometimes, and learning to be okay with it.

It's like just after a breakup, no matter how much you're convinced that it was the right thing, or maybe, it was your choice to end it- but there's still that familiar ache that tells you there's something missing, and that takes a long time to go away.
It's funny, I guess I've never been stereotypically "dumped". I've never had my heartbroken out of the blue, but, regardless of what people think, my heart does break a little having to say goodbye to someone or, even, if you allow yourself to get those butterflies in your stomach about a crush, even if you never admit it, and nothing materializes. I guess I'm just saying that, at least for me, I get little heartbreaks all the time. Sometimes I do wonder about how, after a certain age, it is possible to fall head over heels in love with someone. Is it possible? Even if it is, would anyone normal admit it? I mean, who would throw it out there that they can't stop thinking about someone they just met? I wouldn't. I dare you to admit to someone that you want them. I mean, it's total shit if you scare them, but the payoff is huge, no?

I don't think anyone's been like that about me, but, really, it's possible that they have been, and I've never known. I've never been a capital 'R' "Romantic", well, at least not within the past 5 years.

But anyways, loneliness is a funny thing, and breakups are total shit, almost always.

I had almost convinced myself that "Love" doesn't exist (just rm be clear, I've ended a few long-term relationships in my time, so that's where that bias comes from) and that romantics were silly, and then I talked to my Mom, who, I think, believes that the reason I've never cared about Valentine's Day or weddings or anniversaries is because I've never really been madly in love and she told me, that after 25 years that she and my Dad are still in love and that, "marriage doesn't make any sense, until you meet someone who makes you want it, anyways." So well, there you go. Of course, my mom and dad had two kids by my age, so we do differ slightly in our life paths, but sometimes I do have wonder if the pool of cute and interesting boys that are so easy to meet at this age will, ahem, dry up at some point in the future, and I am missing out on an adventure I should take. Not like I'm in any hurry to settle down, but I am conscious of....wasting any part of my twenties not living life to the fullest.

I do feel weird talking about personal stuff on the internet, since, I think it bores people, and I don't like the idea of talking about anyone else in a public forum.
I am a private person, and it always feels weird to put my thoughts out there, but I guess they're all pretty abstract/general ones, anyways. I had one boy who actually used to post on a Myspace blog (yes, totally public!!) about the ups and downs of our relationship as well as post emails I had written him, which was absolutely horrific. Another boy used to post poems on the internet discussing my "stone heart" and "glass eyes". He was no Wordsworth, but still.

Anyways, that's why I even feel weird about people I barely know knowing who I'm dating or not dating on networking sites. The ease of internet stalking is pretty frightening.

I think the one thing I've missed about moving to the US is having lots of girls as friends. I've made friends with lots of boys, who are super fun, just because it seems to be easier, but I'm used to having lots of girls to get ready to go out with and watch silly TV with and cuddle with when I'm feeling down. Boys, unless they're super flaming, maybe, just can't fulfill the same function. It's rare that you can have a friendship with a boy without any kind of romantic tensions, and even if you manage it, it always seems to change once they fall into longterm relationships. I've had a couple of good girl friends since I've moved, but I do miss having lots. I also grew up with two little sisters not too too much younger than me, and I just miss that energy, I suppose. I mean, I love love love having boy friends to go to bars with and talk about music and everything else....but, I am a bit of a girly girl, after all, let's just face it.

I had a movie date this weekend to see "The Wackness". I never had any desire to see it, since from the title and previews it just seemed too....precious or like
"cool" marketed and packaged for the masses.

But, it was playing at the 3 dollar theater by my house, and I'll see most movies if I can pay 3 dollars and order a pitcher of beer and a veggie burger to go with it.
It might've been the pitcher of beer, but I was pretty amused through out it. I didn't like it for the deep generational poignant movie it, periodically, tried to be, but I liked it for an entertaining movie that went down nicely with my beer. And, any movie that crams enough A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, and Biggie onto the soundtrack, really pleases the mid-nineties child in me.

Speaking of the nineties, (you know, I have an undying love for the 1990s, as I'm sure I've mentioned, but I'm not gonna lie, I was probably like 10 when Kurt Cobain died) last night I went and saw Irvine Welsh (Filth, Trainspotting, The Acid House, etc) read from his new book "Crime". He was charming and self-effacing in his Scottish way
and, to horribly misquote him, I liked what he said about cutting down in his drug use in old age: "well, drinking and doing drugs is fun, and I still like it from time to time, but the hangovers get worse as you get older, and at my age you only have so many days left, and I don't want to spend them all on the floor sweating. It's a pure calculator game. And, I've done them all and know what happens, so some of the fun's been knocked out of it. There's no mystery anymore. But, if something new came on the market, I'd be tempted."

I mean you have to love a middle-aged dude that spends half the year in Miami for the "house music scene".

I always like seeing writers speak about their work. One of those childhood dreams that will probably never materialize was and always will be to be a published novelist, so it's always inspiring to see some bloke with that lifestyle stand up and talk about it, although they never have anything useful to say other than "just fooking do it". It was also interesting to hear him talk about how Iceberg Slim was one of the most under-appreciated writers of the last 50 or so odd years. It is funny how a Scottish author can capture the colloquialisms, failings, and language of his culture and be revered for it, but how an African-American on the other hand...

2008-09-17T15:09:00.000-07:00

When does it become socially unacceptable to wear little girls' dresses from the thrift store? Hmmm...about 5 years ago? Probably.

I had completely blocked out that teenage phase of my life where I once wore Birkenstocks everyday for an entire summer, until I found this today. If I ever try to act cool, just remind me of my "Birkenstock phase." I actually have to give credit to friends from wrenching a few folk festival inspired ensembles away from me.

For anyone younger than me reading this, you just wouldn't understand the bad outfits of that era. We had pagers, not cellphones. This was pre-The Strokes, pre-Arcade Fire, pre-hipster dance nights. In high school, I had two pairs of non-sneakers, one pair of brown flats and one pair of black flats, because I thought anything else was unnecessary. Anytime someone from way back when sees me now they either say "Wow, your hair's so long!" or "You look like a girl!"

In Florence, I think:

Complaining is boring, but I don't like bad days at all. I'm just too stressed right now about various things. It's hilariously self-indulgent to be sitting in a coffee shop getting all emo because sad and folky songs are playing on the radio.I always feel vaguely guilty about feeling sad, especially when there are so many people out there with bigger problems than me. I mean, do relationship problems really matter? Financial problems? Life questions? Feeling inadequate because I'm not pretty/successful/cool/intelligent/wanted/outgoing enough? Ever since I've been, you know, of age, I've tried never to voice insecurities because it's just so boring and self-involved.

Of course, I feel the same way sometimes, but whenever someone complains about being too unattractive or something like that, I can't help but think that they should get out of their own head and think about something else.

I'm lucky to have these so-called "problems" of mine.

It is funny that, in North America, we wallow in our own minute problems which most other people would love to have. I mean, when I'm having a bad day, I go buy myself a vintage dress, an old record or an old romantic movie, some Chilean wine, an old book with yellowed corners, materials to make vegan chocolate chip cookies, and usually, that's enough.

Problem solved (or at least forgot about) for under forty dollars. You know you don't have real problems when that's the case.

I do wonder why we still have bad days....maybe happiness isn't a sustainable feeling, or, more likely, most of us have elevated, unrealistic definitions of "happiness". Maybe stability could be happiness. Making someone else happy could be happiness. Comfort could be happiness. Being loved could be happiness. Doing the right thing could be happiness. Religious or political freedom could be happiness. A roof over your head and food on the table could be happiness to most of the rest of the world.

The Economist Spin on Happiness:

"One way to get a handle on consumerism in our society, is to look at the results coming out of recent 'happiness' research which is starting to have a lot of impact in economics profession. Some of this research results are sort of unsurprising, for example, they've discovered that people in wealthy industrialized societies are on average, happier than people who live in poorer ones. And its not hard to imagine why. With greater wealth comes greater ability to satisfy our needs and desires, to alleviate suffering and illness, and to carry out our life's projects. From this, we might reasonably conclude that economic growth is a good thing.

Unfortunately there's an unexpected twist in the story. While economic development has been shown to generate a steady increase in average happiness levels, after a certain level of development has been reached, the effect disappears completely. The rule of thumb developed amongst economists, considering the subject, is that once GDP reaches about US 10,000 per capita, further economic growth generates no gains in average happiness. In North America, we hit that level long ago, so despite spectacular economic growth since the Second World War, there's been no overall increase in happiness. Some studies have even shown a decrease, in the United States in particular.

So there's something very puzzling about this. It would not be surprising to find that as a country becomes richer and richer, additional economic growth generates increasingly smaller improvements in average happiness levels. That would be just a diminishing margin of return. What is shocking is the discover that growth ceases to produce any improvements at all. Every year our economy pumps out more cars, more houses, more consumer electronics, more labour saving appliances, more restaurant meals, more of everything. Furthermore, the quality of these goods increases dramatically year after year. Looking at a typical suburban home the most striking feature is the sheer abundance of material goods. But how could all of this stuff be and why are people buying it if it fails to please them? Of course, in the middle of all this wealth the middle class continues to complain about feeling squeezed economically. People are working harder, have more stress, and find themselves with less free time. No wonder that they're not especially happy. But how could wealth bring about such consequences? Now that we're richer, shouldn't we all be working less?

So this is what we identify as the problem of consumerism. We try to develop a relatively neutral definition of the problem. Usually when people define consumerism their definition sort of presupposes their pet critique to it. Whereas we try to come up with this idea that, look, the basic problem of a consumer society is were busy busy busy producing and yet it's generating no satisfaction. So the question is why this compulsion a character of our consumption?Now one hypothesis that we find most persuasive to explain this is the one proposed with greatest clarity in the 70s by Fred Hersch in his book called 'The Social Limits of Growth'. Hersch observed that in the very poor countries, the basic problem is that people lack material goods. Economic growth is able to expand the supply of these goods, it allows us to manufacture more food, more housing, more clothing, and so forth, and thus growth generates lasting improvements in people's welfare. In our society by contrast, material scarcity has been almost completely eliminated. And so the typical consumer's income is spent mostly on what Hersch calls 'positional goods'. Or goods for which access is determined not by absolutes but rather by relative ability to pay."

-Joseph Heath

Of course, it's hypocritical of me to talk about North Americans wallowing in their problems, when I ramble on with my silly thoughts on the Internet.

Expressing all of my thoughts feels fairly self-indulgent and presumptuous that people would want to read it, which is why I don't exactly promote this.

But, self-indulgent bad days still make me wish I could get a puppy in my apartment to cuddle with. At least last night I got to see Friday projected in the backyard of a house that held 4 day old Boston Terrier puppies, which made me all giggly.

Some people might get maternal, but I get pet-ernal (corny, seriously).

I also wish people would stop stealing my bicycles. I should probably stop getting such pretty ones. No more vintage cruisers. Something a little more function and a little less form.

I also wish that someone would write an etiquette book which would stop me from accidentally going on dates that I think aren't dates. I have no idea how to distinguish between platonic and non-platonic invites. There should be some kind of book with chapters dedicated to decoding innuendo in text messages. Kidding. I actually think that dating today is somewhat symptomatic of the decline of our civilization, but that's a whole other topic.

Does anyone want to be my pen pal? I'll send you rambling one-of-kind seriously off-topic letters that I will bang out on my own typewriter after a couple of glasses of wine, hahah. Unfortunately there's no spam folder in slow mail. I'm really not cut out for today's world. I'm like a 65 year old inside. I need to stop watching cute black and white movies and get with 2008 and learn useful things like why it's important to do virus scans on your computer more than once every two years.

But, anyways, enough with my self-indulgent North American thoughts. I still do need some cheering up, so think good thoughts for me, and hopefully the weekend will be good. xoxoxo.

2008-09-14T23:50:00.000-07:00

One day I'll actually be motivated to assemble a comprehensive blogroll, but I think I mentioned I was lazy?

Anyways,

two vegan food blogs recently did PDX restaurant tours.

Check it:

Vegan Friendly NYC in Portland

and To Live and Eat in LA does Portland. And yes, I blog way more when I'm trying to avoid homework. Or unpacking.

PS.
In an only in America topic.

I know lots of other people out there on the internet have mentioned this, but for any Canadians who haven't seen it (HFCS isn't in products up there)

check out these commercials actually promoting high fructose corn syrup.

These are so ridiculous, they're sort of amazing. This is the same kind of baseless pandering I witnessed at the Republican national convention (I know, I'm so exciting, my 17 year old sister told me I had turned into an old person the last time I saw her) when John McCain was doing his whole down-home accessible thing (although, I admit, he is charming, but I'd prefer him a a friend's grandpa rather than as president of the country) and Sarah Palin was being touted as a pitbull in lipstick or whatever. Those photos of her holding her baby while hard at work in her office would be laughable in their idiocy if they didn't work.

All of those crazy elitist liberals and their silly fear or corn syrup: this reminds me of The Onion's amusing video about how Obama being portrayed as an elitist hailed as a step forward for African Americans.

I watched the documentary King Corn (that's it right, I'm way too unmotivated to google) a while back and, while it was an interesting look at the farming industry, I was kind of disappointed it didn't delve into the nutritional issue. Of course, I would be disappointed about that. I have psychosomatic attacks when I accidentally ingest processed sugar. I actually am crazy enough that I avoid it whenever possible, except for brown rice syrup or agave syrup in moderation. I'm a total Stevia fiend.

The moral of this story is that you should learn from horror movies, not commercials. Corn is scary. Period.

Weekend in da PDX

2008-09-14T14:10:00.000-07:00

I just bought a comfy couch so do come visit in PDX and keep me company....like say, hypothetically, the weekend around Sept 26-27 and come see Calexico with me! Although I am half debating about visiting Seattle sometime in late September. PDX is a good town, check out happenings here. I'm constantly amazed at how nice everyone here is.

After a brief resurgence of fun in my life, I've come to the realization that I'm simply not cut out for regular partying, anymore, which is a shame since tonight is a Prince vs. Michael Jackson dance party in the Southeast.

Okay, okay, this decision to retire from partying is probably influenced by my slight weekend hangover.

Portland has way too many open bar nights. On Friday, I went to the Matador, half a block away from my apartment and played darts (somehow, I did brilliantly despite the gin and tonics) then went to Union Jacks, yes, the strip bar for a bachelor/bachelorette party for Bobby (of the band Joan of Arc, who didn't listen to Cap'n Jazz way back when) and Elise (fellow Vancouver ex-pat) in from Chicago.

On Saturday, I went to this art show/DJ night/Glass candy show at the Nemo Design warehouse in the Southeast. It was a cool space, and had a lot of interesting -look at americana- type of photos from the midwest lining the walls. The show was Adreinne DeBoers "The Preservation of Fleeting Moments":
Adrienne DeBoer Photo Show at StudioNemo from alex mertz on Vimeo.

If I had a spare 500, I totally would love one of the photographs to sit in my living room.

I know all of the PDX kids are sick of Glass Candy, but I've never actually seen them despite being a fan for ages, so it was super rad. Plus, it was open bar. Who doesn't love art openings for that?

Them playing on the French Riviera

After the Glass Candy show, we all left, although the dance night continued into the week hours, stopped in at the East End for some veggie food and soul music. The East End, formerly the legendary Rabbit Hole and, more recently, Noir, is a great hangout with two levels and a performance space. Even on Saturday, without any big event, it was a fun place to hang, eat, and drink. Then we headed to Rotture for the 2 year anniversary party with Caves, Fist Fite, Fleshtone, Atole, and DJ Linoleum. Rotture is a good space and on Mondays the old DJ from Seattle's comeback night (I think, I dunno, that was before my Seattle time) spins a gay dance night, and you know how I love the gay dance nights. Good lord, this entry is reminiscent of my 19 year old days.

Plans are in the works to DJ and improve my horrific drumming skills and jam (at least jam spaces are cheap).

I just ordered the book Vegan Cooking for One based on a review atSuper Vegan, and I'm super excited about it. Not that I need it, I found a stash of slightly dated veggie cookbooks from the 1990s at the thrift store the other day. I can't imagine anything that says more- I'm unmarried and barren- then buying a cookbook with the phrase "for one" in the title. No wonder it's sold out at Amazon, no one wants the shame of buying it in an actual physical store.

I just read Albert Moravia's "Contempt". "Boredom," probably his most successful text, is one of my favourite books, but I haven't really delved into any of his other works. It, of course inspired the Godard film. The director actually dismissed Moravia's work as “nice, vulgar one for a train journey,”according to the Times. There is an interesting discussion of the gorgeous under-appreciated film here.

Finally, I just found out that David Foster Wallace, one of my favourite postmodern contemporary writers, hung himself at 46. If, for some reason, you haven't read "Infinite Jest," it's an all-time recommendation.His obituary is here.
His work is hilarious and confusing but amazing. I've also read two of his essay collections: "Consider the Lobster" and "A Supposedly Fun Thing That I'll Never do Again," both of which resonated with me.

It's awfully sad that he won't be writing anything else.

***
Life in Danielle land, future etc: I hate school. I really do. I love books, I love learning new things, but I've never liked the stress of grades, standardized tests, or being overwhelmed with understanding like 30 different sources for a much-procrastinated paper. No wonder I took a couple of breaks from school.

Right now, I am in the process of finishing a course, and I hate that on a sunny weekend, I'm stressed inside. I have attention span issues and am chronically disorganized. I'm not someone who likes to be rushed or stressed. I like lazy mornings spent drinking coffee and reading under a blanket, and late nights drinking wine in a park on a blanket with friends. This is also probably why I've never been much of a career-oriented person. In some ways, I could really love living out in the country, but, I'd get bored, I love the city streets. I love the culture. I love the people. I love the urban experience. There are only a few cities I'd really be interested in living in: Vancouver, Portland, Montreal, San Francisco, New York, Prague, Paris, London, Barcelona. Maybe others. I have itchy feet. Anyways, I was admitted to a grad program at San Francisco State (yay, some school actually accepted me!) which I'm considering, although I'd probably try to defer until next fall.

Even though I hate school, I hate working dumb jobs, as well. Who doesn't? I'd like interesting and, relatively or eventually, lucrative work. So, I'm in the process of returning to school. There aren't really any programs I'm interested in here, so it would probably be California or, I guess, Seattle. As always, nothing is decided.

Email Schemail

2008-09-10T19:01:00.000-07:00

I have new email....if you want it, just ask or check my facebook.

PS, my visa was extended!! I'm here until 2009...one more renewal and I think I can get a green card, if that's what I want. It's funny...I hear all of these horror stories about how hard these things are for other people, and the processing times listed on the USCIS were outrageous, but my work visa processed in half the time estimated, and only 1 week after I sent in some missing documents! I don't know if it's because I'm Canadian?? Anyways, if anyone wants info on moving to the US without having to marry an American, I'm insanely knowledgeable now. Although maybe I should just marry an American who wants Canadian healthcare and we can just trade (kidding, kidding, family).

I kind of want to try living in another place, like Europe, since I love the cultures there so so much and have loved travelling there the few times I've been there, but sometimes I don't know if I would like actually living there as much as North America. The plan right now is to probably move to the bay area....I think I'm destined to live in relatively non-sunny places, but it's all dependant on grad school/work plans.

But, it's funny...after all of the family worry and drama due to the Facebook status change, I'm really, inexplicably, happier than I've been in a long time, and really loving this city and my neighbourhood. I keep meeting good people. Probably the change is due to my suddenly non-hermit existence and, probably, my unemployment. I know some people wouldn't feel fulfilled without a job, but, I'm not going to lie, I absolutely love sleeping in, making fruit smoothies and reading the paper in the morning, going for a run, shopping at thrift stores, reading and writing in the park, cruising the farmers' market, and going out to fun places at night.

I don't know how I ever found the time to work. I recently began cooking again, too.
It's funny, the last time I lived with a lovely girl (who, like most, definitely not all, of my best friends vacated the Northwest) we didn't keep any junk food in our house, except for Green & Blacks organic dark chocolate. We had a lovely yard and composted. And I used to cook all of the time when I had someone who shared my passion for marinades, tofu scramble, roasted vegetables, sangria, homemade salsa and guacamole, etc. Then I met the American who only eats crappy processed food.

I tried for a while to convert him. I even tried substituting yam and sweet potato fries roasted in the oven with olive oil and kosher salt for his Burger King Fries, but he was unshaken in his belief that everything could be better deep fried. No wonder he was always unhealthy. Then again, maybe my newfound happiness is due to my recent fall from veganism. I do make a mean eggs benny with feta and steamed spinach.

It's funny, as much as I'm anti-settling down, I do want some of the things that go along with it. I want a house to have friends over for dinner in. I want to decorate.
I guess I'm just feeling the urge to nest.

But this is definitely an abstract feeling. I have yet to meet a boy who likes an independent girl who is kind of a loner. They all say they want that, but when they get it, they just feel threatened, I think.

I personally hate not having physical or emotional space. But I don't think there are people like me out there. At least, I haven't met them.

PS, it's funny that with my blog in its previous incarnation, I knew people read it since....I had all of my "friends" on livejournal. I personally, don't know why people would be interested in my various rants, but apparently some do, and I do like keeping track of my thoughts.

Isn't the internet weird, though? I think it's a sign of our society's demise that anyone can google you and find out if you're "in a relationship" or not on Myspace. It's like all of this personal stuff is out there before people even really get to know you.

I was looking at my flickr account, which I really just use for a few photos and to keep track of outfits/things I like on the internet, and one photo of me, which I haven't advertised anywhere, had over 700 views. How does that happen?

Anyways, I'm spending the night catching up on homework and on the upcoming Canadian election, and resting up for big weekend plans.

xoxo

The Rebel Sell

2008-09-10T18:05:00.000-07:00

I haven't done too much the past two weeks other than move and do homework, but I did finally get around to reading "The Rebel Sell" by Joseph Heath & Andrew Potter.

It came out about 4 years ago following the publication of a rash of anti-capitalist books such as "No Logo" and "Culture Jam". In the US it was published as "Nation of Rebels: Why Counterculture Became Consumer Culture."

It's a well-articulated critique of the countercultural idealogy that has been prevalent since the 1960s. The authors argue that "the myth of the counterculture" [...] "has been one of the most powerful forces driving consumer capitalism for the past 40 years."

The authors, both about age 40, weave anecdotes from their former existences as anti-capitalist punks who frequented Critical Mass rallies with responses to anti-corporate texts and fairly comprehensive research, to argue that the counterculture is actually a fairly significant part of the capitalist "system" rather than a threat to it.

They identify the 2003 release of the Adbusters "Blackspot" sneaker as the epitome of capitalism existing under the guise of countercultural revolution.

You know that I would identify with this book. Although I definitely don't consider myself a member of the minivan majority, you've probably heard my rants about the people who started going to Critical Mass rallies in 2007 and therefore considered themselves cultural revolutionaries. Or my arguments that while, I support the anti-consumerist ideals behind "Buy Nothing Day," it's totally ineffectual if you stock up on stuff the day before as opposed to reducing your overall consumption.
Or my frustrations with anarchists who think they're "beating the system" by not voting or engaging in destructive protests, when that's exactly what right-wing people want them to do.

Or, for example, one time I told someone that I hadn't managed to succeed in veganism, but I believed in moderate consumption, and they told me "it's all or nothing." Or the boy that wore torn black jeans, black Chucks, and a white t-shirt everyday in some kind of apparently minimalist statement, but when I went to his house, I discovered he actually owned, no joke, about 15 pairs of similar black jeans. For those people, it's more about the statement than the action. You also know this book is for me since it attacks noise music which is inaccessible for the sake of being non-comformist. Of course, I like noise and feedback to a certain degree in music, I just can't take the totally abstract stuff. I mean, my favourite band of all time is probably Sonic Youth and I once wrote a paper over-analysing the social significance of noise in music since the 1960s (if anyone wants to read my pretentious academic writing where I actually proof-read, unlike here, then let me know, hah).

And this book basically attacks that hypocrisy. Those people are advertising themselves through their fixed gear bikes, American Apparel, torn black jeans, and card-carrying anarchism, they're sending out a definitive message. But, of course, like everyone else, that's part of the capitalist system.

I am definitely part of the consumerist subculture.

I occasionally shop at Urban Outfitters and Anthropologie. I buy overpriced organic groceries. I buy too many vintage clothes. I have too many V-necks from American Apparel. I'm not sure what statement I'm sending out to people, but sure, I'm advertising myself.

I don't know what kind of message I send out, but I definitely discourage certain types of people from talking to me. For people like me, who were traumatized by high school, the way we look sends out an implicit message to those people: "you are not welcome here." After my year in, yes, a sorority (hah! really! I still don't know why all those people in rush liked me) I think I overdid it on the appearance front: I changed my blonde highlights to black, cut my hair in a fashion mullet, and wore weird, unsexy clothing in order to discourage meatheads from trying to pick me up).

If I walk around in my daytime uniform of skinny jeans, messenger bag, sneakers, and striped sweaters or AA V-necks, I attract a certain type, if I'm out at night in a dress and heels, I attract a totally different type. I've shocked a couple of people by the amount of spandex athletic gear in my wardrobe. Although it makes sense to bike ride/hike in workout gear, it's definitely not sending out the right anti-establishment and apathetic message. Anyways, the point of this is to say that we are all, obviously, advertising all of the time. And we act as consumers to project the image we'd like to and attract the people we'd like to.

Sure, everyone who's interested in stereotypical countercultural ideals is locked into this sort of High Fidelity syndrome where we're implicitly flaunting our cultural capital. By our choice of coffee house, the fit of our jeans, the bands we mention, and the books we tote around, we intentionally or unintentionally advertise our cultural capital. "The Rebel Sell" discusses the shift of values that occurred around the 1960s, when societal status shifted from being based on old money and family to (at least in the "subculture") how "cool" we are. Do you know how to have a first date where you don't talk about bands or books? I sure don't.

Sometimes, especially recently, I've wondered if it's a mistake to judge people on these superficial characteristics. I mean does the fact that a boy could wear my jeans or can easily discuss the works of Jean Baudrillard really mean they'll make a good boyfriend? A lot of times, they've ended up being pretentious assholes.

We all advertise ourselves, particularly on Facebook and Myspace. Even if we're being "ironic" we're sending out the message that we don't care. Capitalism definitely targets the counterculture. The counterculture is a high part of the capitalist system.

Basically, the authors advocate that the only way to change things is to work for systemic political change and buy making ethical choices with our spending power. Basically, they advocate using the our wallets in order to demand ethically produced goods. The book is also very left-wing in its push for government restrictions and market controls. They make a good point that, even if we put out money in a bank, it's still funding capitalism. The authors actually argue that the only way to really decrease our carbon footprint is to reduce our income (in that case, I can't feel any guilt about my footprint...)

Although it's a well-argued premise that we can't escape the capitalist system, I also feel like saying, "so what?" Of course we can't escape the capitalist system. I, personally, am a bit of a commie, but I don't know if I see it working in the real world. I vote for the essentially socialist New Democratic Party in Canada. But, you could criticize any kind of movement in the same way.

I mean, you could dismiss any subculture for being superficial and pointless. You can criticize anyone's life choices. We can play that game with anything. Does that mean that I have to shop at Wallmart and eat Hamburger Helper?

Anyways, it's a really good read, and if anyone wants to discuss it over beers, I'd be down.

Speaking of beers, little girl is growing up, and I've decided to end my love affair with crappy American beer. I'm fairly knowledgeable about local microbreweries in BC, but if anyone wants to educate me on good local beer in America, I'd be excited. We don't get a lot of it on tap in Vancouver, so I need a lesson. Of course, then I'd just be falling into the pretentious trap detailed in "The Rebel Sell," but, whatever.

Nostalgia

2008-09-09T22:23:00.000-07:00

If you know me well, you probably know that my favourite childhood book is "Tuck Everlasting."

The story follows 11 year old Winnie Foster as she meets the Tucks family, who are immortal since drinking water from a magical stream by her house. She falls for 17 year old (well, really 104 year old) Jesse Tuck, and he leaves her water to drink once she reaches the age of 17, so that they can be together forever. Of course, she doesn't since she realizes that a normal life is better than being 17 forever, so she pours the water onto a frog.

But the story is poignant and all about nostalgia. It's one of those stories that gave me unrealistic expectations for childhood summers and first loves, and I read it and "The Princess Bride" everytime I'm sick.

Nostalgia plays funny tricks on the mind. I grew up in North Vancouver, across the water and a 15 minute drive from downtown Vancouver.

My Mom and Dad's house is lovely and unpretentious and backs onto a greenbelt.
North Vancouver is an upper middle class suburb filled with professionals, but it also houses a bunch of adrenaline junkies who smoke a lot of pot, listen to a lot of sublime, and came to North Van for the kayaking, hiking, snowboarding, and mountain biking. My house backs onto, apparently, some of the best mountain biking trails anywhere, and one of my absolute favourite things is to go for a long run or bike ride through the trails. I live a 10 minute walk away from truly inspiring scenery, and in high school, we used to have these campout parties a half an hour hike into the woods.

I still love to pack a picnic and spend an hour throwing balls for my dog in the river and pretending I'm far far away from civilization. Shots of the river by my house:

Although high school was fairly horrific for me, I do miss the North Van snowboarding, backyard parties, and mornings spent eating homemade donuts and drinking organic coffee at Honey's in Deep Cove. Memory is a funny thing, and when I'm home in North Van, I somehow forget all of those socially awkward I-can't-wait-to-get-the-hell-out-of-this place teenage moments, and recall all of the good times. But really, North Vancouver high school so messed me up, it took me a good three years to accept that anyone of the male persuasion might actually find dimples, dark hair, and my personality attractive, since I was so tortured for my weird looks, weird clothes, and weird interests in school. I so internalized the feelings of inadequacy due to my lack of a fake tan, revealing clothes, and long blonde hair, that I occasionally find it hard to believe that people have crushes on me.

My teenage/childhood hangout Deep Cove:

Not everyone had a childhood with hummingbirds and bears in the backyard, and teenage years spent drinking beers at the rifle range (!) around a big bonfire, mornings spent working at Delany's Coffee House in Edgemont Village, and watching the sunrise before work up at Mount Seymour.

Everytime I'm in town, especially in the summer, my heart aches a little for my home.
No wonder I keep returning. But, as they say, you can never go home again. Well, you can, but it never equals the gold-tinged memories in your mind.

Sometimes I miss having old friends around. I like meeting new people, but I love the feeling that comes from having lots of people around who really care and think about you, and it takes a while to find that. Although I met a couple of good people in Seattle, I haven't really taken the time to get invested in the city. It seemed I was escaping every second weekend to Portland, Vancouver, LA, New York, the cabin, etc. Admittedly, there are a lot of people in Vancouver who gave me a really hard time about breaking a few hearts between the ages of 19-22 to the point where it was a relief to leave the city. There really is a double standard for girls. The guys I know break hearts all the time, and I'm definitely been disappointed by people who I thought cared about me more than they actually did. I'm still disappointed by people that I think like me as a person, but are really just looking for someone to hook up with.

Now, I wouldn't care about people being judgmental, but at the time I took it to heart that all of those people I thought were my friends were saying such awful things about me. The slutty boy DJ at my Friday night hangout actually kicked me out of the bar once since my ex-boyfriend was there and I was dancing with boys. I didn't handle all of those boy problems in the best way possible (now I am just always upfront and don't let myself feel guilty about the way I feel), but looking back, I realize what a baby I was. Doesn't everyone fall in and out of love a few times in their late teens and early twenties?

Anyways, it was so lovely to see Vancouver people this weekend. I went to my cousin Sean's birthday on Friday with my sister Jessica and went out on Saturday night with old Vancouver friends.

This Saturday night!

And yes, there is a karaoke video on my facebook from Saturday, apparently. You have to love when you wake up slightly under the weather on a Sunday morning only to realize someone has "tagged" you in a facebook video from the night before.

These are the mental images that make my heart ache a little for home:

Me riding a bike down Commercial Drive with groceries from the Italian deli and organic produce store in my basket, days spend down at English bay beach a block from my apartment with takeout and sunscreen, singing karaoke at the hobo bars, days spent at Wreck (the hippie nude beach) giggling at the drum circles and eating veggie burgers, sunny weekends at the Vancouver folk festival, tofu shishkabobs (sp?), sunlit patios in the west end, Lindsay's rooftop deck, mornings down at Granville Island eating warm bagels on the dock, going to dance nights where all of your friends on the dancefloor, the cherry blossoms blowing all over my front yard near Commercial, mornings running (late as always) to work at the coffee shop when the city is so still, never having to pay cover at bars, drinking coffee after coffee and talking and talking with friends, afternoons spent out on the ocean in deep cove in boats or kayaks, drinking wine in my hot tub after a day on the slopes, thai noodles at the Naam at 4am after a night at the bar, sangria and potluck parties, and being surrounded by good people I love and that love me.

Of course, nostalgia makes you idealistic. I even miss the packs of bloody mountain bikers that congregrate on my parents' street every morning.

and while you're all over there in your jack jones, you need to let me get behind your back bones

2008-08-31T16:18:00.000-07:00

Me at 21 with my fashion mullet...I'm procrastinating, so I'm adding to this. I was reading through my old blog I started as a teenager and ended when I started this one, and I can't even believe how dramatic we all were. It's incredible, but I'm happy we got over that phase young. Someone once told me that I walked around as if I always thought I was the coolest person in the bar, and I always thought they were being ridiculous, but looking back at my old blog entries about all of the "scene drama," as I termed it, I'm beginning to think they were right. It's funny, I'm sure a lot of people don't think I'm as cool now that I'm "nice." I try to make friends and wear my "heart on my sleeve," so to speak. I actually don't like and get along with that many people. At heart, I am a cynical snob in many ways. I can be a jerk, it's true.

But, as I grow up, I realize more and more the importance of maintaining friendships and meeting "good" people. I now let friends know that I care about them, too. I don't know if this is a good thing or not. I'm not talking in terms of romantic relationships, but in friendships. It's funny, because I'm not a constraint and commitment type of person in romantic relationships, but I definitely "forge" connections with friends. I get interested in people and like to find out about their backgrounds and let them know that I care about them. I don't know, is that weird? I like to be "good friends" (shit, I'm using a lot of quotes) with people as opposed to superficial acquaintances, although I have those too, and I don't know if that's a likable or unlikable characteristic. I guess I just try to be genuine and up-front. I think why sometimes I tire of going out all of the time (okay okay, more than once a week) is that 1) I like alone time to be productive and 2) I get tired of having facetious conversations with people all of the time. Although I like to dance and flirt as much as anyone else, I really, really like people who can talk to me about things other than drama and gossip. I don't pretend to be an amazingly fascinating and intellectual person, I feel like I won't ever read enough books or learn enough in this lifetime, but I enjoy different perspectives, even if it's the perfect fresh basil/pine nut ratio in pesto.

IF ANYONE WANTS TO GO OUT ON THURSDAY IN SEATTLE, FRIDAY IN SEATTLE/VANCOUVER, SATURDAY IN VANCOUVER, text/call/email me. I'm finishing a horrific course this week, and need to celebrate.

Thanks to Dizzee Rascal, Deerhunter, Wolf Parade, and, I'm not embarrassed, Sean Paul (I really hope in my next life I'm reincarnated as a much cooler person, people always laugh nervously when I tell them I can't help dancing to "Get Busy," because they can't tell if I'm joking), I survived my move. I have been moving all weekend. I can't believe how many times I've moved in my life already!

Anyone I've talked to knows how I was debating about whether to move back to Canada or what, but I'm sticking it out in America a little longer. I've always been the type of person who followed gut instinct in terms of what to do with my life, but I am beginning to feel like gut instinct is something that's better to ignore. I'm not sure yet, but it always seems like my wants differ from my shoulds. I'd like it if they were one and the same....maybe this is what growing up is? Or not? I can honestly say that I have no idea where I will be or what I will be doing in 3 months. I keep waiting for some kind of intervention or feeling to overtake me and aid my decision, but, so far, I don't trust my instincts at all.

Typical of me, I made this whole decision two weeks ago, and two days later I was putting down a deposit on an apartment. I feel good about this move though. I was really hating my old neighbourhood. It's nice, boring, and yuppie, just not for me. I was getting frustrated with the neighbourhood and my lack of space and various other things. Compounded by a lot of conflicting feelings about where and how I want my life to be....I didn't have the best summer ever.

So, now, I love my new neighbourhood. It's close to bars and restaurants I actually go to, and I can walk to everything.

My new place is pretty nice, too. It was a block long walk home from the bar the other night. You know your night's been horrific when the DJ thanks you for dancing to everything they played the entire night. Every boyfriend gets into the habit of trying to drag me away from parties/dance nights at a reasonable hour or, ahem, getting wastey faced, falling in a ditch, and requiring an escort to a cab. I also sincerely hope that in my next life I'm reincarnated as someone who's a good dancer.

I don't know if there's some kind of sociological difference between the USA and Canada- but I've been approached by more guys in bars/coffee shops/bus/street/parties in Seattle in the past year than in my entire life in Vancouver, despite that I'm now decomposing faster than......a soggy bag of lettuce (that analogy is weaker than....a kitten....and so on). Also despite that I'm always wearing headphones. Maybe people are just more forward here?

That's not how we indirect Canadians work it. We'd see someone out at the bar, not introduce ourselves, stalk them online, and drunk message them. Not that I've ever done that, of course not. I'm pretty sure a frat boy that I met out at the soccer camp with the kids wrote a "Missed Connections" on Craigslist to me. I really attract the best: he wrote "luv ur soccer skillz, want to go 4 a brew?"

I think you can probably tell that I'm in a transitional phase where I'm trying to figure out.....a lot of things. I think in the past year or two I've consciously decided to calm down and be more productive, but something might have been lost in the translation. If anyone has any ideas on how to be an adult in their mid-twenties, I welcome your ideas. It's just like, I don't feel all that more mature (okay, considerably more mellow) than 5 years ago, but I still don't have it all figured out. I know I want something else, but I don't know what that is yet.

I promise this whole blog won't be all about me, unlike my last one (which, of course, still technically exists). I'll write something more interesting sometime. And by sometime, I mean next weekend.

Books

2008-08-27T11:11:00.000-07:00

I was just reading the August 11 & 18 issue of the New Yorker and the fiction piece "The Dinner Party" by Joshua Ferris is rad. Read it here.

http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2008/08/11/080811fi_fiction_ferris?currentPage=all

Now that we're on the topic of the New Yorker, also read "The Lie" by T. Coraghessan Boyle here. It's from the April issue, and it's so good!

http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2008/04/14/080414fi_fiction_boyle

Also, I began reading "After Dark," the latest release from Haruki Murakami, who is probably my favourite living author.

If you're one of the few who haven't read his work, do it. Begin with "The Wind up Bird Chronicle." The writing, even in translation, just gets under your skin. Sometimes authors, such as Hemingway and Nabakov, just kill me completely, and Murakami does that to me too.

Here is the New York Times review from 10 years ago:
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9800EED9133EF931A35752C1A961958260

Even though I studied English Literature, I don't really review stories and books unless I have some kind of specific response to them. Although, I do miss having built-in college friends around who read and talk about reading.

2008-08-22T21:24:00.000-07:00

T

Just some views from the deck up at my cabin. Last week, I spent the week up at my cabin.
If there's any place that epitomizes nostalgia for me, my cabin at Sakinaw Lake is it. I've been going up there my entire life with my family and friends, since before the road to get up there was even paved. Our 1 acre lot and 3 bedroom cabin & additional sleeping cabin, has a big deck that overlooks the 7 km. long lake. The Sunshine Coast area is a funny mix of hippie locals and rich summering Urbanites with summer houses. The closest "big town" (there's not even a real mall) is a 45 minute drive away. I spend my childhood summers up here waterskiing, canoeing, kayaking, chasing around my big cousins, swimming, cliff diving, reading, boating, wakeboarding, playing soccer, and running. There are even 5 islands on the lake I made up all these "legends" for when I was 8 (the best being Pirate Island). The area is so cool, if I go on a 5 mile hill run, I pass the ocean and about 3 lakes.

I love being up there spending half the day being active, and half the day lounging around reading, drinking beer, and eating really good food (well the food is slightly better if you're a meat eater, then it's salmon and steak dinners, but the salads are good regardless).

I feel instantly relaxed when I go up there. It's like being a kid again. To be honest, most of BC kind of sucks. The Northern resource based towns aren't very culturally diverse and they're pretty ugly. The nature is great, of course. But, the only parts of BC I like to visit outside of Vancouver, are on Vancouver Island (Tofino for surfing and camping and Victoria can be fun, if slightly boring compared to Vancouver), the Gulf Islands, the Sunshine Coast where my cabin is, and of course, the Okanagan in summer. I miss those lakeside summers in Oliver too!

Remember biking around looking for local boys and running away when they talked to us? The Okanagan has some rad wineries and orchards, and the river dam in Penticton is pretty cool. I really want to go up again next summer. But, other than that, BC is kind of lame.

PS, I had another birthday recently (how come they get progressively less exciting? It hardly seems fair), so please lie to me next time you see me and tell me I don't look a day over 20. Hah!

Hopeful or hopeless?

2008-08-08T09:59:00.000-07:00

So, I'm sure everyone's read about the "latte effect," that economic term that's been banded about for the last decade to explain the relatively recent tendency of middle class North Americans to fritter away money on daily non-essentials rather than save and invest.

I remember a lecture in high school where my counsellor told us how much money we would have thanks to compound interest if we could just save that 5 dollars a day we spent at Starbucks.

Well, anyone who knows me that I'm hopeless with money. I don't even have a wallet. Really. What's the point of a wallet if it just contains receipts, anyways? Everyone warned me about the dangers of credit card debt. Of course, the second thing I did when I was 19 (the first being buying a beer) was to sign up for a credit card on campus. And....another one. Just google "instant gratification" and "generation y" and hundreds of articles will pop up discussing how my generation (yes! just made the cut for Generation Y, apparently) forgoes saving and working hard to achieve the "American Dream" in favour of....yes, instant gratification. Yes, we are in the era of text messages, fast food, fast...everything.

I actually am the opposite of fast. Anyone who would spend a morning happily reading the New Yorker at a coffee shop or perusing a farmers' market for the perfect heirloom tomatoes is obviously not in too much of a hurry. However, I epitomize my generation in the financial department. In a Women Studies and Media class in college, I made a zine which explored the fatalistic and self-destructive tendencies of the generation that came of age in the 1990s.

I used my 10 year old crush, the character of Troy Dyer from Reality Bites (hey! I was ten) as an example of the fatalistic tendencies that characterized the 1990s generation with quotes such as: "There's no point to any of this. It's all just a... a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know... a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle... and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt."

In the post-post grunge era, ideas like this have become seriously cliched. But, when I was a preteen/young teen, movies like Trainspotting and books by Douglas Coupland were a part of my cultural upbringing. It was all about the experience, not the future, baby. Let's not even delve into the self-destructive tendencies of the grunge era, since I'd rather not beat any dead horses today (I am a vegetarian, after all).

I had a relatively idyllic childhood. I love my Mom, Dad, and sisters (especially now that we don't fight over clothes), and I grew up in a nice suburb, in a nice house, on a nice street, with an awesome pool. My Mom and Dad have always worked hard to provide for us and, I suppose, our family, albeit Canadian, epitomized the upper middle-class American dream. So, why am I not pursuing this dream for myself?

I have never had any aspirations of a life beyond 25. When I was a teenager, my goals in life consisted of moving out of the suburbs, travelling, going to shows, getting an apartment downtown, and reading lots of books. Basically, all I've ever wanted was to have fun experiences and a good time. I've never been able to picture myself with a house and family. Maybe this comes from living in a time of relative economic abundance and political freedom.

My fear of commitment extends to future goals.

After watching lots of ads on TV telling me that I can start a Registered Retirement Savings Plan for just 25 dollars a month, I made one monthly payment of 75 dollars.

Of course, 3 weeks later, it was Friday and I had seven dollars in my bank account, so of course I went to the bank to attempt to withdraw from my savings plan in order to fund weekend plans. That was my last sorry attempt at saving for the future.

The only time I can motivate myself to save is if I have big plans within the next 6 months- travel, school, or moving. For me, those little daily indulgences that fritter away my retirement are what make life worth living. I personally wouldn't want a house in suburbia if I couldn't afford to buy brie, wine, and records on a Sunday or pay for beers and a show on a Thursday.

Maybe this is partially due how house prices have skyrocketed in Vancouver over the last decade. With the median house price in Vancouver approaching 1 million, owning a home seems like a pipe dream. Of course, salaries have not kept up with the inflation. Due to various economic factors (deindustrialization, two income households, etc.) that I'm really not qualified to discuss, owning a home in the Pacific Northwest seems to be restricted to the wealthy.

When I told my Grandma how much I spend on groceries and dinners out, she was absolutely shocked. I admit it, I waste money. I have expensive tastes. Somehow, meatloaf and potatoes just doesn't appeal to me as much as a salad of arugula, pine nuts, blue cheese, and avocado.

For whatever reason, it's hard for me to envision my future. My dreams have always been a bit left-of-center; I could see myself banging away on a typewriter in Paris in 20 years or living in a house with an orchard in the middle of nowhere, but I just can't picture myself driving a minivan.

Perhaps this fatalism comes out of growing up in an era when the world seems to be on the brink of environmental disaster. When you look at the projected effects of global warming in 10 years, it's difficult to imagine having children.

For whatever reason, perhaps these little indulgences that deliver instant gratification are really just a coping mechanism to distract us from the apparently imminent combustion of the earth.

When I look at documentaries on the 1960s social revolutionary era, I find myself on the verge of tears (yes, even cynical unromantics cry) at the heartbreaking idealism apparent.

I would love to feel that kind of optimism that the world is going to change. Hell, I'd love to feel the kind of optimism about love that the two Columbia students who wed in the midst of the overnight sit-in at Columbia in the 1960s must have felt. It makes me feel nostalgic for an era I never even experienced.

Instead, what characterizes my generation is a kind of tired cynicism. Maybe we all just have unrealistic expectations. If I had been born fifty years ago, I probably would've been married 4 boyfriends ago (although the thought is horrific). I wouldn't have had any illusions about spending my twenties searching for a "soul mate," I would've just looked for a good provider and stuck it out without any searching for something "exciting".

Instead, I find myself wondering if this is it? I frequently say that I'm a total unromantic, but maybe the problem is that I am too much of a romantic. Don't tell me you haven't gone looking for your own "Before Sunrise" moment in Europe. Something about a night spent chatting over wine on a Greek ferry or up by the Sacre Coeur just makes it so much more romantic than a date at a coffee shop in the Pacific Northwest. And sure, I've had amazing nights on travels where I've stayed up all night talking and dreaming about moving to a new city to be with this amazing new person....but, maybe, just maybe, everyone gets a little boring after a while?

I always thought that one day I'd meet a cute boy who was funny, well-read, unpretentious, intelligent, and laid back. That we'd both like to play scratchy records, go for beers, go on hikes, go out dancing, watch foreign movies, and support our local Community Supported Agriculture. And that he would be the type of person who liked his own freedom and his own personal and physical space to explore his own interests- and allow me mine. Someone with who you could spend an entire rainy afternoon inside playing music and reading and writing and not even need to talk. And sometimes we'd go out together, and sometimes we'd go out by ourselves. And we would like to travel and go on adventures and be spontaneous enough to move to Europe, just because we felt like it. And of course, we would be crazy in love with each other. I told my Mom all of this, and she told me those were a lot of unrealistic requirements. True, true.

Real Girls Eat Meat

2008-08-01T21:46:00.000-07:00

For some reason, people always ask me why I am a vegetarian.

If anything, at this point, it's partially habit. I became one originally for moral and idealistic reasons, but it's been so many years, I don't even know what a hamburger or steak tastes like.

The most convincing reason to stay one seems to be the environmental effects of the production of meat. According to the Environmental Defense Fund, if every American gave up meat for one dinner a week (what? they don't? do people like this exist?), then it would be equivalent to taking 5 millions cars off the road. Of course, those figures are based on the traditional factory style method of meat production, not based on meat from environmentally conscious local farms.

However, figuring out where meat comes from and how it's regulated is a whole problem on its own. Spending last summer in France made me appreciate the methods of farm production and its emphasis on eating locally. But, that's more part of European culture than North American, anyways. It's so complicated navigating the most morally conscious way to consume meat and produce. For example, the demand for grazing land for cattle in order to feed the North American appetite has absolutely ravaged previously usable farmland and rainforest in South America and Africa; but their economies have now become dependent on the continued exportation of meat. Unless their economies are diversified, the financial consequences of not purchasing meat from South America and Africa are comparable to the environmental consequences of purchasing from them. Anyways, ya'll have heard this song before, I'm sure.

I've struggled with veganism. I've read absolutely horrible things about the dairy industry and cringe when I think of the hormones present in dairy products. I've been a vegan for months on end before, but I always cave in Europe, and since the 2 week New York pizza binge in July, I'm completely off the wagon. Unfortunately, I really love artisan cheeses. When I think about a frittata with goat cheese, fresh basil, and sundried tomatoes, I start mentally making a grocery list.

That being said, I probably eat 90-95% vegan. I do believe it's the healthiest and most ethical way to live, and I hate to be the high maintenance person that looks for vegan wines and asks if the bun on the veggie burger in the dive bar is vegan. But, if someone invited me over for a brie fest tomorrow, I couldn't say no.

Now that I'm on this roll, I have, admittedly, been craving seafood lately. Although I've cut out red meat for the better part of two (!) decades, seafood has been my weakness (save for the one time on my first date with a boy when I was 18, when he thought vegetarianism meant you could eat lamb. I should've taken it as a sign things weren't going to work out). I can't cook it to save my life, but lately, I don't know if it's the late summer sun or what, but I've been having lobster, halibut, and crab fantasies. Ugh.

I just want to bang on a drum....

2008-07-22T19:31:00.000-07:00

So I'm almost at the end of my summer work.

Now comes a period of unemployment, which I will hopefully use to finish that writing I've been meaning to, and then, after that, a job hunt.

I hate job hunting.
I have had many fun & frustrating jobs.

I have worked at coffee shops, a spa, a film production company, restaurants, the government, as a nanny, an English teacher for Japanese teenagers, for the Kidsafe project (a summer daycamp for underprivileged children), and....as a professional road line painter.

My only actual career skill would probably be the line painting. Before I got sick of working with misogynistic men and destroying the environment along the Sea-to-Sky highway for the 2010 Olympics, I had a lot of fun that summer driving a two ton truck, figuring out blueprints, and programming a line painting machine. Everytime I see lines on the road now, I notice mistakes and inconsistencies.

I'm in the middle of a mid-twenties existential crisis, if you haven't noticed. I'm not interested in any jobs I'm qualified to obtain, and I don't really like doing boring work 5 days a week from 9-5.

I told my parents, who do want me to return to Vancouver, that I will cave and return if they find me interesting work, such as at a film production company. I always felt that one day I would wake up and some career would just fall into my lap. I used to have aspirations of effecting positive change in the world or making films or writing stories....and now, a part of me just wants to take off, live in a beach hut somewhere, and forget about ever being career ambitious.

I'm giving myself one year, and if I don't make it......dum dum dum....then comes graduate school. But if anyone wants to make a break from North America with me, I can be swayed.

2008-07-18T20:55:00.000-07:00

I was reading today about the the Columbian peasants place in the Cocaine industry in Duncan Green's "Faces of Latin America."

It discusses how, if it wasn't condemned by the American government, the coca plant would be an ideal export for an impoverished area. It is reliable, grows abundantly, and requires little maintenance. The chapter continued on to discuss the ineffective American war on drugs and it made an interesting comment about how if Cocaine was legalized, the Columbian peasants would suffer from Big Business intervention, and tariffs and taxes.

I am showing my Canadian bias here, but I just don't get the extent of the whole "war on drugs" thing going on in this country. Half of the job postings I see here state that they will check the criminal backgrounds of and drug test applicants/employees. It just seems Orwellian and invasive.

When I was working for the government, we would occasionally get phone calls from
US companies with Canadian branches who wanted to drug test their employees. I think it's invasive and characteristic of the police state America seems to be. Thankfully "Mandatory employee drug testing is illegal in Canada because it discriminates against drug-dependent candidates under human-rights laws because addiction is defined as a disability" (Find the article the quote is from here ). The focus in Canada seems to be treatment, rather than imprisonment. The article I quoted from discusses the new deal between construction employers and unions to drug test employees when there is a problem on-site. It is a dangerous precedent, although it may be overturned. However, the deal states that an employee will not be terminated, they just must get medical clearance and, if necessary, treatment.

Although I want to say, good luck with keeping construction workers! When I worked on the road crew, sometimes half my job was to keep the blowtorch away from the guys on heroin.

I remember once friends of mine were smoking up in an alleyway outside of a bar in Vancouver and they heard someone clear their throat behind them. They didn't turn around, so this guy cleared his throat, "A-hem!" a little more insistently. So, they turned around, and a police officer stood a few feet away. And he said, "guys, could you at least move down the block? This is a little embarrassing."

In contrast, if that had been in the US, especially since a couple of them were visible minorities, their lives could've been basically ruined. Due to recent changes in priorities in Washington State enforcement laws, that's not really the case anymore, but elsewhere it could be, especially due to mandatory sentencing laws. One of my favourite US laws is the one that says that students with criminal records can receive federal funding for school, save for any students with drug convictions.

It's not like I'm a huge drug advocate. I'm not, I don't think they're that great, and I think they can do more damage than good, I just don't see the point of ruining peoples' lives over something minor as drug use.

USA USA USA

2008-07-11T23:08:00.000-07:00

Burrito Belly. Everything's more entertaining with an unflattering photo, non?

So. Everyone always asks how I like Seattle compared to Vancouver. And, of course, since, like most other nationalistic bastards out there, we Canadians are egocentric motherfuckers...so I get quite a few queries such as "Why would you want to live in that crazy country?"

Good question.

George Bush, Southern bible thumpers, and Neo-Nazis may have given this country a bad reputation, but, trust me, there are some redeeming qualities.

I think, if anything, social mores are more regional than national. I remember one time I was telling one of my (gay) friends how happy I was to live in an open-minded and liberal country, and he responded with "well, obviously you've never been to Fort McMurray, Alberta."

Alberta, which my Dad calls "the Texas of Canada," is where our shithead Prime Minister is from. Of course, the minority Conservative government didn't win any seats in Vancouver, Montreal, or Toronto. We have all the rural areas to thank for that. Here is an interesting article about the new Canadian Christian right from a couple of years ago, which discusses how it's a good thing that the Conservatives are a minority government: http://www.thenation.com/doc/20061127/hedges.

Working for the government made me realize how many programs have been affected over the past 5-10 years due to funding issues. Due to the changes in leadership at the provincial and federal levels, many important social programs have been shelved. I used to scan through the directory of obsolete social programs just to see how many had been cut by our increasingly right wing government. Thankfully, universal healthcare isn't threatened. There were countless heartbreaking instances at my job where the Premier of BC would announce some new and innovative new program that would help under 100 people. For instance, one Wednesday Gordon Campbell announced a new program which would provide free visual aids to persons with disabilities. By Thursday, the program was at capacity; however, the government inspired false hope for months by distributing information to non-profits about the overwhelmed program.

I find it amusing when Americans discuss the problems with Canadian healthcare. There must be some right wing think-tanks disseminating a ton of information to Americans about the various problems and limitations with Universal Healthcare. True, there are occasionally long waiting times and people without the communication skills to advocate for themselves are occasionally overlooked. But I've read numerous studies which have proven that the same factions of society (minorities, the elderly, the poor, persons with mental illness, drug abusers, etc) that are not always given the best care in Canada due to communication and comprehension difficulties are generally the same groups that, in the US, have no health coverage whatsoever. Imperfect treatment is better than no treatment at all.

The close-minded Republican element is probably more dominant in American culture than in Canadian; I read an article the other day that discussed how when the Canadian show Degrassi Junior High aired an episode about abortion, U.S. Networks wouldn't allow it on the air. I do feel somewhat uncomfortable living in a country that doesn't allow gay men and lesbians to marry; the few gay weddings I've been to in Vancouver have almost made a romantic out of me.

I currently reside in a thankfully left-wing enclave, Seattle. As long as I avoid the people with "God Bless America" bumper stickers, I'm usually in good company. Although oppressive American foreign and domestic policy deservedly gives the country a bad rap internationally, I don't think anyone can totally dismiss the country which gave birth to so many subversive cultural and social movements. You know, oppression inspires activism, blah blah. Maybe our relatively permissive culture is partially to blame for the lack of Canadian national identity, but hey, I wouldn't trade it. I personally think nationalism is a little weird, anyways. What normal person champions their own government unconditionally? I have to admit, I cringed a little and put on dark glasses and a hoodie when the two year old I look after insisted on wearing a "I Love America" t-shirt her grandparents had sent her, because then I look like the idiot who picked it out for her to wear to the park. I feel nearly the same when she picks out a pink velour hoodie with "Little Princess" lettered in fake crystals across the back.

I moved here on an impulse to 1) be closer to my Yankee boyfriend and 2) for a change. I wasn't really doing anything particularly productive in Vancouver- I've always had the itchy feet and love an excuse for a new adventure.

I made the decision and found an apartment and job within the next week. I, personally, would've preferred to move to London or South America, but...I've always liked hanging out in Seattle, so here I am.

There are some things I really like about America. For one, drink prices- Happy hour is illegal in Canada. Prices in general are cheaper down here, but it does raise some concerns about the dangers of over-consumption, especially in relation to exploitative production practices. Trader Joes is simply amazing. My bias as a newly "old" person is evident here, but I love the 21+ drinking age since it changes the bar dynamic entirely. In Vancouver, especially at dance nights, the bars are overrun with teenagers. I'm not threatened by cute American Apparel-adorned teens, but I do lament that they have driven a lot of the people a bit older than me away from Vancouver nightlife. I've been sneaking into bars since before there were hipster dance nights, and when I was an underager I used to idolize all of the cool people who were ten years older than me. Now, it seems like anyone over 27 is considered passe. In contrast, in Seattle the median age is a lot older- at shows you frequently see people in their thirties and forties. Since I don't plan to be living the surburban dream in a decade, I like to see people who give me hope for my future.

2008-06-27T19:21:00.000-07:00

The old ball and chains is always away, it seems.

I don't mind though, I love time alone to lie around in my pajamas and watch old movies.

I was having a 1960s themed weekend. A lot of sangria, a little Godard, a little Truffaut, then on to Arthur Penn's "Bonnie and Clyde." Then I put a scarf around my head and watched the Grey Gardens documentary (its entertainment value is seriously overrated) until I fell asleep for a Sunday nap at 4PM. One day I am definitely going to turn into Miss Havisham from Great Expectations.

I also kind of like alone time in order to gain control of the record player/sound system.

I always feel unsure of what to answer when someone asks me what my taste in music is. My first inclination is to answer, "everything!" But, really, that just isn't true. I would say I like some music from almost every genre, save for modern country (sorry Mom, but it's like the worst music ever, you're probably the only non-Republican who listens to it).

But I do like some bluegrass and alt-country; in fact, I was raised on it. You may scoff, but sure, I have a Whiskeytown record. Wilco, Willie Nelson, Patsy Cline, Gillian Welch and M.Ward too, among others.

I'm sadly ignorant of world music. The closest I've come to it is Diplo.

1990's indie rock? Obviously! Riot GRRL? Hell, I was tempted to move to Olympia at the age of 11 in the midst of that phase. Electronica? How could you be a 1990's teen and not be into it? If I'm feeling really nostalgic and have had a few PBRs, sometimes I put on Alice in Chains. French pop? Yes, bring on the Serge. 1960s garage? Yes! 1960s most anything? Yes! Punk? Some yes, some no. Jazz? I don't know anything about modern, but from the 1940s-1960s, totally. Noise music? Well, I like Black Dice and Melt Banana, if that 0ualifies. Rap, obviously, I'm a 1980s child and a 1990s teen. Electroclash, most definitely. I like what some people term "Northern Soul," but I do take issue with a bunch of white mod Brits defining and identifying a genre dominated by African Americans. No-wave, new wave, 1960s Jamaican music, folk (some), and tons of the bands out right now.....

My ex-boyfriend Luke, a member of the soon-to-be-defunct noise outfit Basketball, once described my music taste as "accessible." Probably a fair assessment, but there is a difference between the music I listen to at home and like to listen to at a party.

If I was throwing a party tonight, I'd probably play some James Brown, Gang of Four, New Order, M.I.A., ELO, the Buzzcocks, the Cool Kids, The Stone Roses,Yes, The Smiths, Elvis Costello, Rhianna, MGMT, Tapes n' Tapes, Jay-z, Grand Ole Party, the Makeup, the Brian Jonestown Massacre, the Murder City Devils, the Raveonettes, Detroit Cobras, Peaches, Kings of Leon, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Interpol, the Klaxons maybe I'd do some 1990s revival with Elastica, Daft Punk, and Pulp, hell, even some Sandstorm....all pretty standard for a kid
(okay, okay, adult) my age. I do like most everything. Sure I'll take it, I like accessible music.

Being around music snobs my entire dating history, I've been told I'm not a "music person." But I'm okay with that. I know I'm not.

I've given up on trying to be cool, it just doesn't come naturally.

I'm not a film snob either.

I just like to have a good time.

Children of the Corn

2008-06-27T11:23:00.000-07:00

The 6 year old I work with is starting to ask the big questions such as, "okay, so, who was good? The Cowboys or the Indians?"

Hah, that's a loaded question, if any.

Girl Drama

2008-06-20T12:32:00.000-07:00

It's always weird living in a new place.

Being a born-and-raised Vancouverite, I've never had to worry too much about going out of my way to make friends. Well, aside from my high school years where I had about two friends due to my shyness, inability to relate to others in my peer group, and tendencies to tote around a copy of War and Peace. That and my somewhat pretentious 16 year old belief I was a card-carrying turtleneck-wearing member of the Beat Generation meant I just never fit in in high school. Thankfully I had a few friends to go to shows with, sneak out to raves to (sorry Mom and Dad, aren't teens awful), and sneak into college parties with.

College for me was a revelation. Suddenly, I was in a small program of 30 students who loved discussing philosophy, postmodern art, indie rock, and Russian and French Literature. I don't think I will ever again replicate the excitement I felt at that age in discovering that there were other people who liked to sit around and discuss nerdy things. At the same time, I began to get more involved in the Vancouver music scene, and began to go out drinking and dancing with a bunch of other former-rave kids excited that bands like the Rapture and the Moving Units were producing danceable music. To this day, I have to stifle urges for a nostalgic group hug when Pulp's "Common People" is played at the bar. I do sort of miss those days before everyone was so cool...back when you could still go out in white belts and black jeans we were just dorky kids looking for cool people to dance with. It's funny, because now there's cool stuff going on pretty much every night in Vancouver, but it wasn't always like that. Remember when there we were the only people on the dancefloor? And there was only Mod Club, BritPop Night, and even once in awhile...1980s night at Shine? We weren't as stylized as "those damn kids" today either.

If you weren't a 1990s teen or college kid, you just wouldn't understand. I won't even get started on my undying love of the 1990s. Grunge, rap, riot grrrl, electronica, triphop, folk, britpop indie rock.....anyways, back on topic.

Anyways, when you stay in one city for (aside from a few attempted escapes) years on end, you begin to take making friends for granted. I always had college friends, bar friends, and work friends from all walks of life. Now, since I spontaneously moved to a new city where my boyfriend already lived, I'm sort of stuck with the friends he's made, and it makes me realize how we attract different types of people.

I really hate pretension as a character trait; however, it doesn't bother Paul. I like anyone who's fun, nice, and interesting. We've been to a few parties and nights out, where none of his friends really make me feel welcome. Part of the problem is that he's made these friendships with all of these single girls who are already emotionally attached to and somewhat possessive of him. I'm not the type of person to get jealous or be competitive with other girls for male attention. I personally think it's anti-feminist and disempowering. I also don't take flirting and crushes too seriously; if some guy I think is cute introduces me to his girlfriend, I'll go out of my way to be nice to her. Apparently, not everyone feels the same. One of his close Seattle friends told Paul she didn't like girls like me "who wear dresses" as an excuse for not wanting to include me in plans to go out. All of this immature emotional manipulation is, frankly, a bit pathetic, especially considering all of these people are older than me.

I'd never ever be the type of girlfriend to restrict someone's friendships or discourage them from going out without me- I don't like possessive people, so I try not to be one.

I just hate the tendency of some girls to compete for male attention. It sets the whole women movement back a few years, non?

I've just gotten to the age where I don't want to waste time hanging out with emotionally unstable people. I'm sure there are lots of fun and easygoing people in Seattle, but this particular segment of the population that has befriended Paul is slightly over-dramatic. I guess part of what has desensitized me to these kind of jealousy is the limited numbers of Vancouver kids- lots of people I'm friendly with have made out with my ex-boyfriends and current boyfriends. If you couldn't let go of jealousy, then you just wouldn't have any friends. Who knows.

2008-06-05T22:13:00.000-07:00

I just saw Jim Jarmusch's "Night on Earth," a film with 5 vignettes from Helsinki, LA, Paris, Rome, and New York. I don't know how I missed seeing this since I loved "Stranger than Paradise," "Dead Man," "Mystery Train" and even "Coffee and Cigarettes," but it's totally great and totally engrossing. I mean, Winona Ryder as a cab driver and a soundtrack by Tom Waits? What else do you need, really?

Since I'm on the topic of movies, I finally received Andrew Bujalski's "Funny Ha Ha" which was finished in 2002, but just released in theaters last year. I enjoyed it, but then again, I'm the target audience. Currently, I love amusing films with low production values and authentic humour about the post-college experience. Imperfect but totally appealing. Super awkward, not amazingly original, but you know, one of those movies you thought you'd make 6 months after graduating from NYU film school.

Link for review, if you're into that

Sad Songs Say So Much

2008-06-02T22:37:00.000-07:00

Even though I'm not an emo teen anymore, sometimes I have rough days. I have hungover days, and days when I wonder where my life is going (nevermind, I know the answer, nowhere fast! hah!). When I was younger I would sit in the (metaphorical, please) filth of my own torment and listen to Elliot Smith on repeat and write what I thought were deeply original thoughts on my typewriter.

Now that I have come to the realization that I am just like everyone else in their affected existential crises about nothing (although, perhaps, my favourite, Tolstoy, would disagree, you know..."Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way"). Or perhaps everyone just feels that we're all unhappy in our own way, regardless, rather than wallowing in my own miseries and anxieties about how my life isn't going the way I want, I have a much healthier coping mechanism: denial.

I usually watch old romantic black and white movies, or watch Flight of the Conchords or Arrested Development on DVD. Today I am having a rough day, and maybe, just maybe, you are too.

Send a Bullet

2008-04-28T13:10:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbff7PBDUP8

I watched "Manda Bala (Send a Bullet)" the other night, the documentary that work the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival.

The producer, Jason Cohn, said that "I really thought of Manda Bala as a non-fiction Robocop depicting a very real broken and violent society."

It was not a perfect film, but I felt it engrossing as a look at the class warfare that exists in Brasil. It deals with some of the same themes as "City of God," a dramatic film based on a true story, but in documentary form. It begins with a few apparently unconnected stories and, not surprisingly, weaves them together by the end of the film. It was astounding how much damage the corrupt Jader Barbalho was able to inflict upon the country and citizens of Brasil. No one seems to know exactly how much money was siphoned away from projects supposed to improve the economy of Northern Brasil, but most reports put it at well over 1 billion.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/1825076.stm

The Sustainability of Fashion

2008-03-06T13:01:00.000-08:00

These are my favourite and most inspirational images from the Spring/Fall 08 runways. Funnily enough, some of these shows are the ones that just got torn apart by the reviewers on style.com. But, I don't go for trends as much as get inspired by a girly/vintage aesthetic tempered by tougher & rocker influences.

Therefore, I love the Sass & Bide, Alexander Wang, Marc Jacobs, Erin Fetherston, Luella, and Jovovich-Hawk (RIP) shows. They seemed to be inspired by sailor, frothy girly, bohemian, grunge, safari, school-girl/boy, rocker/punk, mod looks. Which, despite being all over the board, are all my favourites (in reference to the u in favourite, although I live in America now, I am a Canadian, and we use the British spelling, as much as my yankee boyfriend makes fun of me for it).

The only time I really look at fashion fashion is when the Spring and Fall shows come out, and I spend half an hour browsing my favourite designers on Style.com.

I'm someone who always appreciates things that are aesthetically pleasing, but I really don't like the disposable and unsustainable aspects of the fashion industry. Clothes used to be something I thought about a lot more- anyone remember when my collection of mod dresses basically overtook my room? But now, I'd rather spend my time reading about current events or watching films than wasting time and money shopping. also cannot buy copious amounts of clothing from unethical corporations any longer without it weighing on my conscience.

Living in the US, where all of these chain stores make mass-produced clothing so affordable, makes me think a lot about what the "real cost" of clothing is. If you haven't seen it, I recommend watching the documentary "Life and Debt," which discusses the effects of US business on the life of Jamaicans. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5277094596195828118

Although I do still buy mass-produced clothing, I make conscious effort to support local designers, buy second-hand, and sew using materials gathered from thrift stores. Although many people laugh at the amount of leather in my wardrobe since I'm a vegetarian, all of the leather jackets/boots I have are second-hand.

I used to be a total clothes-horse. But, moving all of the time made me realize how burdened I was with "stuff." I like to feel like I have an escape route and know that I am free to book a spontaneous one-way plane ticket (if my credit card's not maxed out) anytime I want to. In the last couple of years, I have donated or sold 75% of my wardrobe, and I don't regret it whatsoever. I also just don't care about putting in the effort to look like hot shit anymore. I would, simply, just rather have fun and not take clothing so seriously.It has also forced me to revisit my personal style and realize that it is unsustainable to jump on every hipster trend bandwagon (I am also getting a bit too old, admittedly. I can't dress Nu Rave when I was going to actual raves a decade ago and I'm not going to buy a Keffiyah from a mall and cheapen a cultural symbol).

So my personal style is a hodge podge of inspirations and eras- French films, bohemian, mod, skid (hah), punk, 1960s everywhere, old photos from the 1920s-1940s, etc. Yes, of course, I am still a little vintage clothing obsessed.

2008-03-06T10:39:00.000-08:00