Looking Out

Indie kid, not really...

I've taken the time to interpret one of Belle and Sebastian's musical creations for my good friend (and brother-in-law) Colin in hopes that he might see the band's genius for what it is—genius. Also, for Colin's (and my very small readership's) convenience, I have outlined his reasons for disliking Belle and Sebastian alongside my well-prepared, very reasonable arguments for why his reasons hold no weight in the real world (my house). Actually, I absolutely crush Colin in this debate—my argument is so perfect.

Fabricated Reality

I have come to the conclusion that my life is moderately paced, risk-free, and pretty absent of conflict. Some might consider that a boring existence. I disagree. I have made my life that way. Don't get me wrong, I am a highly stressed-out individual, but it has absolutely nothing to do with the actual proceedings of my day-to-day activities. I create oodles and oodles of irrational anxiety because there really isn't too much for me to worry about.

Gun Shy?

Obama made two mistakes. He told the truth, but he told it badly. And, people were not ready for the truth, especially in the context in which it was told. So, Obama had to backtrack, fudge things a bit, then deal with the immediate backlash from saying the following about Pennsylvanians:

"You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania and, like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing's replaced them," he said. "And it's not surprising, then, they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations," he added.

What is so wrong with what he said? It's an accurate observation, in my opinion, of what is happening in once-industrial and/or rural America.

Yes, I Can!

Thanks to Sarah Palin, I have renewed confidence in myself. Because, if Sarah Palin can, so can I. If Sarah Palin can run as John McCain's running mate and possibly be elected as Vice President of the United States, the most powerful country on this planet, while knowing very little about politics, foreign affairs, the English language, and fashion (the up-do with bangs was in during the early 90s), then shit, America is open with possibilities for every unqualified, dysfunctional, inexperienced human being out there—like me! I can just pretend I know what I'm doin' and talkin' about, and that should be good enough, right? Oh, I forgot; I just have to look really cute doing those things that I don't know how to do. America, God bless you!

New York City, No Thanks

I just got married. It was a perfect wedding. It was small, quaint, and there were tears. My friend Colin (and soon-to-be brother-in-law), the reverend, signed our marriage license over breakfast. We ate cheese grits that my dad cooked over a gas stove in a transformed trailer-cabin. I wore flowers in my hair. I drank a Bloody Mary out of a ceramic goblet given to me by my now sister-in-law, Bethany. I photographed my own wedding. I walked around barefoot and the ground was muddy. I faced a beautiful body of water while I said my vows to one of the most beautiful men in the world. I did all of this before noon. It was perfect. I wouldn't want to change a single detail of my wedding...well, maybe I would have preferred that it didn't rain. Because then I wouldn't have had the rare and unfortunate opportunity to sing Alanis Morrisette's "Ironic" to my betrothed. It's like raaaaaiiiiiinnnnn on your wedding day..."