Read it! ---> http://www.xkcd.com/308/

Enough said. Lets roll!

Frank Turner has been kicking my ears lately.

The man knows how to write a song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcQ2XmNvjk4

"I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous"

Let's begin at the beginning:
We're lovers and we're losers,
We're heroes and we're pioneers,
We're beggars and we're choosers.
We're skirting round the edges
Of the ideal demographic.
We're almost on the guestlist,
But we're always stuck in traffic.

We've watched our close associates
Up and play their parts;
They're chatting up the it girls,
And they're tearing up the charts,
While we were paying with coppers
To get our round in at the bar.
We're the C-Team, we're the almost famous
Old friends of the stars.

Justin is the last
Of the great romantic poets,
And he's the only one among us
Who is ever going to make it.
We planned a revolution
From a cheap Southampton bistro.
I don't remember details
But there were English boys with banjos.

Jay is our St. George, and he's standing on a wooden chair,
And he sings songs and he slays dragons, and he's losing all his hair.
And Adam is the resurrected spirit of Gram Parsons, In plaid instead of rhinestone and living in South London.
And no one's really clear about Tommy's job description,
But it's pretty clear he's vital to the whole damn operation.
Dave Danger smiles at strangers, Tre's the safest girl I know,
Zo and Harps will scamper up to Victory in the city we call home.

We won't change our ways, we will proud remain when the glory fades.

I am sick and tired of people
Who are living on the B-list.
They're waiting to be famous
And they're wondering why they do this.

And I know I'm not the one who is habitually optimistic,
But I'm the one who's got the microphone here so just remember this:

Life is about love, last minutes and lost evenings,
About fire in our bellies and furtive little feelings,
And the aching amplitudes that set our needles all a-flickering,
And help us with remembering that the only thing that's left to do is live.

After all the loving and the losing,
For the heroes and the pioneers,
The only thing that's left to do
Is get another round in at the bar.

I wonder...if it'd be easier all around if women also put their physical preferences in the "message me if" section or not.

I mean, think about it. If someone put down "message me if you're funny" it would still be true that no amount of good jokes or witticisms would make up for a personal preference for a strong jaw.

"I'm sorry. That crack about xkcd was hilarious (http://www.xkcd.com/122/) but I'm not into men taller than 5'5"." That would have been really useful information to begin with.

Come to think of it, how exactly am I supposed to prove that I fit the more abstract requirements in a first message? Open-minded? Caring? Not a doucehbag? I can't prove that, not unless we talk for maybe an hour or so.

And if you're a fairly interesting and/or attractive woman then you probably get a lot of messages. How do you weed them out quickly? Looks. So why not declare your physical preferences up front. Save the message sender and yourself a lot of time.

I know I'm biased. I don't have the type of looks that inspire "love at first sight" stories. I'm not unfortunate looking, but I'm just not a stunner, you know? I grow on people. That's my deal. People spend time with me and in time they like me.

But in all honesty, I'm not bitter. I've long ago accepted and found happiness and what I look like. And I'm comforted by the fact that the people who take a second look, the inquisitive ones, the discerning ones, those are the people I enjoy being around anyway.

However, I do wish people would be more up front about what they want. There's this whole cultural taboo when it comes to talking about looks when in fact physical traits are very important to us. Sometimes it's even inexplicable, like how a lot of people think of love.

I'm not saying the fashion-mongers are right in judging appearance harshly and causing the psychological trauma of countless young men and women. But there is a middle-ground here. There's a mature way to say you're not into beards or glasses just like there's a mature way to come to the decision that some physical traits don't matter.

Okay...that's all I have to say. I'm going to go watch Project Runway reruns now because Shiri Askari is freakin' adorable.

OkC has a blog option. Weird. How did I miss that?

-------------

I was listening to "Ghosts" by Laura Marling.

"The ghosts that broke my heart" are few. Funny thing about the Philippines though, you can never really be rid of the ghosts. Here in L.A. I could disappear and never meet the same people again for as long as live. It's comforting and, I understand now, quite a disadvantage. If you aren't forced to make up by overlapping circles of friends and short distances, you might never truly get over someone. If you never see them again, they will forever be the perfect one that got away or the major bitch that you hate. And that's how they'll stay, one dimensional. And you, you get to cling to that idea that people are simple and you might, if you were ignorant, take people and the Universe for granted.

Speaking of the Universe, I had another one of those extraordinary experiences that make me tend to believe in both the existence of a Higher Force, or Forces, playing silly buggers with Creation as well as Free Will.

First off, let me tell you this: I met this girl. She's a coworker of a friend of mine. That's a long story involving some alcohol, dancing, and a glorious night out on the town. I'll save that for another time. Suffice to say I've been thinking about her.

Anyway, I woke up this morning late, which was strange because I always set my alarm. I took my time getting ready even though I knew I should have leaped out of bed and out the door. In my mind I had already decided to take my time but it felt like something was telling me not to take too long. I did a hundred other little things to slow me down and then hurry me up. A hundred other little things happen to me to the same effect. Example: I was going to grab food on my way to work but I passed restaurant after restaurant and I just didn't stop.

As I zoomed past Melrose Avenue, I kept playing stoplight tag with this bus. The bus would pull over at every stop meaning I could pass it but since I was on my bike and not moving too fast eventually the bus would pass me. Then it would pull over again and I would pass it and so on and so forth.

Nearing the end of my journey, the bus passed me one last time and stopped two blocks in front of me. I was still moving and it looked like I didn't have to go around it this time because it deposited a single passenger and sped away before I got to it. That passenger was her. Every little nuance of my morning brought me right to this place at this time, to her. That's one point on the side of The Powers That Be.

And here comes Free Will: She spots me right as I spot her and she shouts, "Hey! What's up?" and she has this huge smile on her face. But I was still driving my bike so what was my gut reaction? I smiled and shouted back, "Good morning!" as I kept riding past her because I was late for work. There was enough time for her to say good morning back as I shot out of range. So I basically ruined serendipity. I should have stopped. I should have talked to her. But no. Chalk one up to good old Free Will: the freedom to fuck things up.

Can you imagine how many little atoms (or Higgs-Bosons or "strings" depending on what version of physics you believe) a super intelligent consciousness has to move to get me, a semi-evolved primate, to where it wanted me to be at a precise time? Not to mention the bus and her morning full of nuances...I'm just saying, it's a long way to go for a cosmic game. And here I am, ruining it in a split second non-decision.

Hopefully, she at least went through her day thinking about me too once or twice. Hopefully. But maybe not. I mean, Urban Outfitters is a hectic place to work. Hipsters demand your attention, retail worker scum.