The first kiss
I'm not sure if it's ever what anyone expects. I may never be sure.
I sort of jokingly expected it to be with someone I was minimally attracted to and/or merely part of life as an actor.
I couldn't have foreseen just how awkward I would be with 20 years of Sarah Palinesque inexperience or that it would be repeated about nine times in a row.
It was the result of my new mantra to just let life happen, react, and try not to hold myself back too much. Since planning and trying not to relinquish control has never worked too well for me.
Obviously, someone else has better plans for my life. He knows more than I do.
I think she ate something I'm allergic to cause my lips kind of itched immediately after.
Hours later, they still kind of tingle. Is that normal?
But it's ok cause she's a vegan and I had a burger for breakfast. HA!
I'm trying not to hate surprises so much anymore.
She's just weird enough to fit seamlessly into my life's time line.
--The whole situation is pretty funny actually.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
I've never eaten here (stream of consciousness)
I think it turns out I've chosen you, blogger.
Wordpress is mad cool but for some reason I just can't write when I go to post on it.
maybe it' the colors.
that weird blue on the blog entry form just kills everything or something...which is weird, cause blue is in fact my favorite color. I barely notice the grayish brown of this one. I heard somewhere that barely noticeable, subtle sounds and colors spark creativity. Maybe it's true1. Good thing, right now, I have both.
I've been here for about two hours. Just me, Ophelia2, and a one-third-of-the-way empty3 bottle of water. I'm in the process of conditioning myself to not worry about things out of my control...I'm not much of a worrier anyway most of the time but still...
My plan was simple just go somewhere and do whatever I feel like alone. Maybe do some free-writing at a café or something. Normally solitude is the sum of my tattered bedroom and a locked door, but the problem with that is my family is never more than a couple minutes and a scream away from breaking the me-time. So, here I am, a hopeless bundle of chords slumped in the back of a restaurant that doesn't smell like food. It doesn't smell like anything; maybe that's why I've never bought anything from here4.
Sometimes public places are the best ones to go to when you need to be alone, that's what I think. Because in public places it's practically offensive to interact with other people that's the way it goes.
The thing I like about this place is the music they always play some awesome jazz and not only that, they play some of the exact songs I own which is completely fascinating. I came here with the my external hard drive and my comically large, comically held together with rubber bands headphones with a comically long cord fully intending on listening to my own music but alas, the ambiance is too enthralling. Darn you Miles Davis, Charlie Parker and Duke Ellington overriding my Dave Mathews Band, Victim Effect, and Bernie Allen. And especially you Autumn Leaves you beautiful, melodic piece of crap. Plus, today's Foobar shuffle is surprisingly unsatisfying.
Apparently I'm not alone in my quest for digitally enhanced solitude. A girl has just sat across from me with naught but a drink, a bag and a laptop. I guess none of my ideas are really that original. The difference is, I have mine plugged in, plus I look far more ridiculous. Although she puts up a good fight, every time I look up, she's staring at her computer with a different, yet equally intense and increasingly comical face. Would it be rude to laugh out loud? No one would know. "There must be something funny on his computer screen".
I don't crack a smile. Appearing interested in other people is dangerous because eventually, you have to think of something to say.
a couple of people sit behind me...I think they got soup. I can barely smell it. What a weird frikkin place to eat.
What the eff does Panera mean anyway?
Wikipedia is NO help.
Seriously, I need a frikkin job. Apparently, if you tell them you have a schedule they throw your shtuff in the trash. I wish I'd known that 20 applications ago. There's nothing to do in this town without money, except, you know, blog in restaurants while eavesdropping for things to write about.
Of course your battery's dying; that's what batteries do.
Of course you can use this plug. It turns out I like the music they play here better than the stuff on my hard drive at the moment anyway.
It was probably a dumb idea to just unplug it, but the safer alternative would take too long and I'm no good at small talk.
Are you kidding me? Is that a J-pop ring tone?
Everything here is so earthy...I'd expect it to smell more like spruce or mahogany or something it looks like it was carved out of a frikkin tree.
This blog is going nowhere...
-Marlon
l. Believe EVERYTHING you hear.
2. No, my computer doesn't have a name, she has at least three.
3. Optimism and pessimism are nothing in the way of verbal aesthetics.
4. The main reason is me being broke as f*ck.
Wordpress is mad cool but for some reason I just can't write when I go to post on it.
maybe it' the colors.
that weird blue on the blog entry form just kills everything or something...which is weird, cause blue is in fact my favorite color. I barely notice the grayish brown of this one. I heard somewhere that barely noticeable, subtle sounds and colors spark creativity. Maybe it's true1. Good thing, right now, I have both.
I've been here for about two hours. Just me, Ophelia2, and a one-third-of-the-way empty3 bottle of water. I'm in the process of conditioning myself to not worry about things out of my control...I'm not much of a worrier anyway most of the time but still...
My plan was simple just go somewhere and do whatever I feel like alone. Maybe do some free-writing at a café or something. Normally solitude is the sum of my tattered bedroom and a locked door, but the problem with that is my family is never more than a couple minutes and a scream away from breaking the me-time. So, here I am, a hopeless bundle of chords slumped in the back of a restaurant that doesn't smell like food. It doesn't smell like anything; maybe that's why I've never bought anything from here4.
Sometimes public places are the best ones to go to when you need to be alone, that's what I think. Because in public places it's practically offensive to interact with other people that's the way it goes.
The thing I like about this place is the music they always play some awesome jazz and not only that, they play some of the exact songs I own which is completely fascinating. I came here with the my external hard drive and my comically large, comically held together with rubber bands headphones with a comically long cord fully intending on listening to my own music but alas, the ambiance is too enthralling. Darn you Miles Davis, Charlie Parker and Duke Ellington overriding my Dave Mathews Band, Victim Effect, and Bernie Allen. And especially you Autumn Leaves you beautiful, melodic piece of crap. Plus, today's Foobar shuffle is surprisingly unsatisfying.
Apparently I'm not alone in my quest for digitally enhanced solitude. A girl has just sat across from me with naught but a drink, a bag and a laptop. I guess none of my ideas are really that original. The difference is, I have mine plugged in, plus I look far more ridiculous. Although she puts up a good fight, every time I look up, she's staring at her computer with a different, yet equally intense and increasingly comical face. Would it be rude to laugh out loud? No one would know. "There must be something funny on his computer screen".
I don't crack a smile. Appearing interested in other people is dangerous because eventually, you have to think of something to say.
a couple of people sit behind me...I think they got soup. I can barely smell it. What a weird frikkin place to eat.
What the eff does Panera mean anyway?
Wikipedia is NO help.
Seriously, I need a frikkin job. Apparently, if you tell them you have a schedule they throw your shtuff in the trash. I wish I'd known that 20 applications ago. There's nothing to do in this town without money, except, you know, blog in restaurants while eavesdropping for things to write about.
Of course your battery's dying; that's what batteries do.
Of course you can use this plug. It turns out I like the music they play here better than the stuff on my hard drive at the moment anyway.
It was probably a dumb idea to just unplug it, but the safer alternative would take too long and I'm no good at small talk.
Are you kidding me? Is that a J-pop ring tone?
Everything here is so earthy...I'd expect it to smell more like spruce or mahogany or something it looks like it was carved out of a frikkin tree.
This blog is going nowhere...
-Marlon
l. Believe EVERYTHING you hear.
2. No, my computer doesn't have a name, she has at least three.
3. Optimism and pessimism are nothing in the way of verbal aesthetics.
4. The main reason is me being broke as f*ck.
Monday, May 26, 2008
I hate it when...
1. Pastors lie/misinterpret/make up symbolisms and things for the sake of strengthening faith or make themselves look profound or whatever they're trying to do. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm down with Church (more in theory than in practice though) and Christianity; I'm a total Jesus lovin' Bible carryin, praying my way through un-studied for tests and gas-lit trips to the fuel station. But a lot of things a lot of preachers say are total crap. Like sometimes I wonder if they even pay attention to The Bible when they read it. A lot of those things somehow travel to multiple churches, for example the belief that God wants everybody to have buckets of money and fancy cars, wtf? Or when giving a sermon about how the entire congregation has been called to be rich they'll say "Seek ye first the kingdom," then skip down to "and all these things [cars, jewelry, superfluous income] shall be added unto you" ignoring the fact that, when read in context, the verse clearly means life's basic necessities, food, clothing, etc. Then they go on to speculate on what "the kingdom" means. It's bullcrap. Another one is when they talk about Passover and how the Jews, in order to stay alive, had to place blood from a lamb on the sides and top of their doorway, you know, cool story; but then they go on to say that it's foreshadowing to Christ because "when you place the blood on both sides and across the top of a doorway it's clearly in the shape of a cross". Now, I didn't ace Geometry in high school, and when I took drawing in college I only got a 'B', I don't claim to be Michaelangelo or Da Vinci, but that doesn't sound like any cross I've ever seen . . . it's more like . . . the outline of a door frame (*gasp* 'cause Jesus was crucified in a door!) That's all I'm saying. There are thousands of good lessons in The Bible. Why make stuff up? A lot of these pastors mean really well. . .they're just a little dumb, is all.
2. People on myspace or whatever say they love music as if that's a freakin unique character trait. Might as well say "Hey, I'm not deaf; yay me! I'm so different!" and then their evidence for the outrageous claim is they take their iPod® everywhere they go and they would be "OMG so lost" without it. These people who have never taken a music class unless it was mandatory, can't read music, and don't play any instrument apparently love music more than your average human being with functioning ears because they cant be separated from their little mainstream, worthless, overpriced mp3 player with maybe 238 songs on it. Kill yourself. And what's even worse is these elitist indie kids who think they really love music because they go to "shows" or they have their favorite band on vinyl and only own tee shirts with bands on them. Then they act like that makes them better than everyone else. And they only listen to about four genres of music...that is, if you consider indie, emo, and alternative that different. They listen to rap just to be "ironic"1 and pretend to like Edgar Allen Poe so they can look deeply emotional. They talk about how much main-stream sucks and how unique they are while they and all their friends have matching ipod nanos with all the same songs. WOW. Get Rachmaninoff on 45 and then maybe we'll talk.
3. People say they like the 1989 Batman movie. That's mainly just because Tim Burton wasn't true to the source material, Batman couldn't move his neck, Joker was short, fat, old, and possibly a child molester, and a real Batman fan would never say that.
4 . While we're on the subject, I hate it when Tim Burton makes movies. Because he's one dimensional, unimaginative, self-indulgent, takes himself too seriously, and 96%of his fans are exactly the same way. Plus, if Hot Topic ever shut down, he'd die. And whats the deal with all the stick figures and spirals?
5. When I'm hungry and I don't want to eat anything in the fridge.
6. When People say they hate an entire genre of music. Honestly, I used to be that way with country music then I started actually listening to it. There's some good stuff in there, you just have to find it; the stuff right on the surface is always going to suck, it's always gonna be contrived, calculated and built to sell rather than as artistic expression. Every genre is like that. Although, if you say you hate disco, or techno, I completely understand.
I'll save the rest for another time.
Feels good to get that out,
-Marlon
1. they're lying they secretly crank that soldier boy alone in their rooms.
P.S. I still haven't decided which blog site I'm going to use. I still haven't finished my Wordpress entry, they have so many distracting things on there... and it's not quite as simple as on here. So things are looking pretty good for Blogspot so far.
2. People on myspace or whatever say they love music as if that's a freakin unique character trait. Might as well say "Hey, I'm not deaf; yay me! I'm so different!" and then their evidence for the outrageous claim is they take their iPod® everywhere they go and they would be "OMG so lost" without it. These people who have never taken a music class unless it was mandatory, can't read music, and don't play any instrument apparently love music more than your average human being with functioning ears because they cant be separated from their little mainstream, worthless, overpriced mp3 player with maybe 238 songs on it. Kill yourself. And what's even worse is these elitist indie kids who think they really love music because they go to "shows" or they have their favorite band on vinyl and only own tee shirts with bands on them. Then they act like that makes them better than everyone else. And they only listen to about four genres of music...that is, if you consider indie, emo, and alternative that different. They listen to rap just to be "ironic"1 and pretend to like Edgar Allen Poe so they can look deeply emotional. They talk about how much main-stream sucks and how unique they are while they and all their friends have matching ipod nanos with all the same songs. WOW. Get Rachmaninoff on 45 and then maybe we'll talk.
3. People say they like the 1989 Batman movie. That's mainly just because Tim Burton wasn't true to the source material, Batman couldn't move his neck, Joker was short, fat, old, and possibly a child molester, and a real Batman fan would never say that.
4 . While we're on the subject, I hate it when Tim Burton makes movies. Because he's one dimensional, unimaginative, self-indulgent, takes himself too seriously, and 96%of his fans are exactly the same way. Plus, if Hot Topic ever shut down, he'd die. And whats the deal with all the stick figures and spirals?
5. When I'm hungry and I don't want to eat anything in the fridge.
6. When People say they hate an entire genre of music. Honestly, I used to be that way with country music then I started actually listening to it. There's some good stuff in there, you just have to find it; the stuff right on the surface is always going to suck, it's always gonna be contrived, calculated and built to sell rather than as artistic expression. Every genre is like that. Although, if you say you hate disco, or techno, I completely understand.
I'll save the rest for another time.
Feels good to get that out,
-Marlon
1. they're lying they secretly crank that soldier boy alone in their rooms.
P.S. I still haven't decided which blog site I'm going to use. I still haven't finished my Wordpress entry, they have so many distracting things on there... and it's not quite as simple as on here. So things are looking pretty good for Blogspot so far.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
The Beginning? The End? Who Knows? We'll See.
Hello, my name is Marlon (yeah, like the sandwich) and I have no idea what I'm doing with my life or where this is going.
So, as the story goes, one fine pre-summer day in Southern California as the penultimate week of another mainly pointless semester at "Local Community College" came to a close. A twenty-year-old ne'er-do-much decided to start a blog his mother didn't read. Which brings me here to you (whomever you may be) testing out two prospective blogs, Blogger and Wordpress, Wordpress and Blogger. Battle of two blogging titans for the sweet affections of this fair gentleman, first and most loved son of his father.
My decision on where to blog would be so much easier if Typepad didn't cost so much freakin money to join (i.e. any money at all. Alas, I am but a poor lad with naught but $4.72 in pennies, nickles, quarters and maybe one dime to his name.) Because TypePad is what Kat Dennings uses. Despite the fact that I have seen Big Mama's House 2 and haven't seen anything she has played in that was worth watching, I became an instant fan upon seeing her youtube channel and reading her blog so anything she says is cool is cool with me. . .even though she likes crap music like David Bowie and probably enjoys crap movies starring David Bowie like Labyrinth.
Right now, as we speak/I type and maybe you speak (who knows what you the hypothetical reader of my glorious Blogger blog may be doing now at 5:49pm Pacific Time on Sunday the twenty-fifth of May in the two-thousand-and-eighth year of our lord Jesus Christ, is doing, maybe robbing a bank. Don't worry friend, I'll be your alibi, we were having a fascinating conversation about religion, politics and race-relations in foreign countries.) I am reading about Wordpress on their website in the process of signing up, and let me tell you, it's already more interesting, if you like that sort of thing where a website speaks in familiar terms and gives information without all the weirdo legal jargon; I do. If the site was in Spanish or French it would without a doubt make use of the "tu" forms of words (maybe Italian too, but I know nothing about Italians aside from the fact that most of them live in New York and the Blonde ones are fabled to have delicious hair of mozzarella1). I hear, however, that Blogger is in league with Google and--having a gmail account and a junkie-like reliance on its search engine-- I fully enjoy having Google as the center of my internet experience. You can't imagine my disappointment in finding that I loved Zoho far more than Google Docs (not to say that I wish Google Docs would change, I like it the way it is). Blogger seems pretty nice so far though, I have no problems with it. Except, does it bother anyone else that this "Blogger saves posts automatically now" thing pops up every 20 seconds?
There was much more I wanted to say but often times I suffer from TL;DR syndrome2, so I'll save that for my Wordpress entry. (yes, I'll be posting unique blog entries to each one so I can get the feel for typing into the website instead of just copy-pasting)
I leave you with the pretense of love,
Marlon Dearest
1. Don't believe everything you hear, I had to learn the hard way that my mirror can not serve as a gateway to a fantastic world of whimsy and chess. And despite what the movies may lead you to believe, prison is not a great place to make friends and grow as a human being.
2. I write to frukkin much. (TL;DRs lead to many STFUs and GTFOs, I assume, though if I ever received one, it would have led to the giving individual's imminent murder.)
So, as the story goes, one fine pre-summer day in Southern California as the penultimate week of another mainly pointless semester at "Local Community College" came to a close. A twenty-year-old ne'er-do-much decided to start a blog his mother didn't read. Which brings me here to you (whomever you may be) testing out two prospective blogs, Blogger and Wordpress, Wordpress and Blogger. Battle of two blogging titans for the sweet affections of this fair gentleman, first and most loved son of his father.
My decision on where to blog would be so much easier if Typepad didn't cost so much freakin money to join (i.e. any money at all. Alas, I am but a poor lad with naught but $4.72 in pennies, nickles, quarters and maybe one dime to his name.) Because TypePad is what Kat Dennings uses. Despite the fact that I have seen Big Mama's House 2 and haven't seen anything she has played in that was worth watching, I became an instant fan upon seeing her youtube channel and reading her blog so anything she says is cool is cool with me. . .even though she likes crap music like David Bowie and probably enjoys crap movies starring David Bowie like Labyrinth.
Right now, as we speak/I type and maybe you speak (who knows what you the hypothetical reader of my glorious Blogger blog may be doing now at 5:49pm Pacific Time on Sunday the twenty-fifth of May in the two-thousand-and-eighth year of our lord Jesus Christ, is doing, maybe robbing a bank. Don't worry friend, I'll be your alibi, we were having a fascinating conversation about religion, politics and race-relations in foreign countries.) I am reading about Wordpress on their website in the process of signing up, and let me tell you, it's already more interesting, if you like that sort of thing where a website speaks in familiar terms and gives information without all the weirdo legal jargon; I do. If the site was in Spanish or French it would without a doubt make use of the "tu" forms of words (maybe Italian too, but I know nothing about Italians aside from the fact that most of them live in New York and the Blonde ones are fabled to have delicious hair of mozzarella1). I hear, however, that Blogger is in league with Google and--having a gmail account and a junkie-like reliance on its search engine-- I fully enjoy having Google as the center of my internet experience. You can't imagine my disappointment in finding that I loved Zoho far more than Google Docs (not to say that I wish Google Docs would change, I like it the way it is). Blogger seems pretty nice so far though, I have no problems with it. Except, does it bother anyone else that this "Blogger saves posts automatically now" thing pops up every 20 seconds?
There was much more I wanted to say but often times I suffer from TL;DR syndrome2, so I'll save that for my Wordpress entry. (yes, I'll be posting unique blog entries to each one so I can get the feel for typing into the website instead of just copy-pasting)
I leave you with the pretense of love,
Marlon Dearest
1. Don't believe everything you hear, I had to learn the hard way that my mirror can not serve as a gateway to a fantastic world of whimsy and chess. And despite what the movies may lead you to believe, prison is not a great place to make friends and grow as a human being.
2. I write to frukkin much. (TL;DRs lead to many STFUs and GTFOs, I assume, though if I ever received one, it would have led to the giving individual's imminent murder.)
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