Don't fall in love with the autograph

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.