when i was little, my parents listened to ONLY the following albums:
deja vu
nick of time
eric clapton unplugged
blues and roots
ingenue
absolute torch and twang
reason i like country music:
THE VOCALS ARE BETTER / THE SWAGGER IS BIGGER / THE GUITARS ARE SLITHERIER
it used to freak out the annoying hippies i lived with in 'frisco when i played "these boots are made for walkin'" because they were stoned idiots. there would extrapolate meaning from me playing it. people are always extrapolating meaning from me, and back then i would start to believe them. i was in a dark living room and it was 2006. OH YEAH. there were tremendously annoying parakeets that i almost murdered. back then, i knew how to make cream of carrot soup really well, and can't remember the recipe. one of my housemates said he was from "ohio- the big island", but really he said "hawaii- the big island". he was rich, i think. he was one of those rich people who thinks you want to be friends with him only because he is rich. there was the newsie-like gay chick. there was the know it all alterna-chick. there was the actually really friendly guy who began sleeping with the classy art chick, as of the day before i came to live there. there was an axis of wackness formed by this other guy and his new girlfriend. there was the goofy girl from mit (it is easy to get into mit when you are a girl). i cultivated all these defense mechanisms to deal with them, my housemates, and soon those mechanisms came to be who i was. around this time is when i committed myspace suicide. my head was shaved. and i had accidentally bought a skin-head-looking sweater. i already owned skin-head looking jeans. it was FREEZING all the time. i had purchased marijuana from erin hurley's coworker and watched "walk the line", which has kind of ghastly erotic overtones.
anyway since then i have learned that it is a mistake to expect very much from movies/people, especially strange housemates. i think everything would have been fine if i had learned to sleep more during this venture. more sleep, more earplugs. more isolation and patience.
sorry i just want to take this time in my life, squeeze it into a ball, and throw it at you.
7 comments:
Hey man it's not THAT easy to get into MIT
if you are a girl, it is easy. that's what i heard ANONYMOUS
hey rebecca, no stretch of the imagination could include Chevy Chase, MD in The South. you grew up north of the capital of the Union.
you'd need to travel 100+ miles of your house to possibly start being in the South.
this makes me mad because i feel like you only read the first sentence of my blog posting. but also, i don't care.
Dear PP,
your posts are incredibly fun to read. I got fired when I was caught writing this comment at work. I thought Chevy Chase, MD was in Virginia???
you forgot to mention all the cigarettes you smoked when you lived in San Francisco. Also, I heard didn't you buy a bunch of CDs??
i only bought two cds: curses, by the rye coalition. i TOLD you i was bad at buying music. but actually, i liked that it was called, curses, i liked the cover, but i lost it, promptly. it is still at nick valvo's house. i bought the electric eels as well. i really only bought a few things besides these: buff colored low top hush puppies, which i forgot there, and weird large diameter plastic stud earrings with fake gold inlay from needles and pens. oh yeah. mcsweneys 16, the believer june/july 2006 music issue, a navy blue little otsu hoodie, which i forgot there. cruddy. jeans that didn't even remotely fit. the skinhead sweater. a cashmere hat. when i went to visit you in 2003 i totally had to buy sweaters from the salvation army too. countless frangipanges. strawberry soda pop. stale rolls and coffee for 1.30- an entire small breakfast. rosemary/golden raisin bread from that place whose funny name i forget. video rentals- the umbrellas of cherbourg, walk the line. marijuana.
and ciccone youth. the guy totally pegged me as a buyer of sonic youth too the minute i started doing stressed out browsing. i don't know anything about music.
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