"I think the reward for conformity is that everyone likes you except yourself."

- Rita Mae Brown

"I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that." -Brian Andreas, Story People

"No good at life, but very funny sometimes with the commentary." -Kurt Vonnegut

Words, Words, Words

Something I've found myself doing is collecting quotes. I also collect ideas, phrases, poems-- words, language, and sounds in general. I'm not sure where my interests stem from but I think it's a pretty cool thing to collect. I collect ideas, which is way more practical and useful than collecting Pez dispensers or rubber duckies ("What's up with that?" - Jerry Seinfeld). I don't really get that--especially when the collection grows into like a million Pez dispensers and you have to dedicate a whole room to it? Why? I want to know why! What are you trying to say about yourself by collecting a million candy holders from your childhood? Collecting habits and practices are so fascinating! A collection speaks volumes about it's collector and the message they are trying to convey in the displaying of their objects for others to see. Like dorm rooms! Like facebook! Like museums--a-duhhh! Collecting on the national level, sooo interesting. I wonder what collecting quotes says about me! That I should have actually been a lit major? (Just kidding, I'll always love you Art History, even if you never get me a job!) That I'm trying to be intellectual? That everything I say is stolen? Probably. I had a dilemma earlier in the year... because I was stuck on the idea that at the end of the day, all I amount to is pop culture references and other people. Haha I could amount to much worse, or nothing at all, I suppose!

Anywho, this post is kicking off a new weekly tradition of posting quotes--"Quote of the Week," if you will. And to try to keep things interesting, I'm going to start off with a completely depressing quote. It's depressing to me at least, because I believe it sums up my life almost completely. But in an M. Night Shyamalan plot twist, I'll add a quote that cracks me up every time I read or think about it. First tears, then laughter!


"The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely." - Charlotte Bronte


"Her hair is like a dandelion, like if you blew on it, a lot of it'd fall off." 
- Dpt. Jones, Reno 911


And the irony of it all is that the cool new font I chose makes the quotation marks look weird. What's a girl to do? Please leave your thoughts in the comments! What weird shit do you collect? What do you think of quotes? Let's go around the room.

Nostalgia & Writing

Today, I saw the Woody Allen film Midnight in Paris, starring Owen Wilson and an extremely talented cast. Let me just begin by saying, WHAT A GOOD MOVIE! I mean, it was a little slow at times. For instance, it showed every shot imaginable of Paris and played the same music throughout the entire film. But, get over it, I guess? In fact, this film was so on point that it creeped me out. For those of you who know me well, you know that I am nostalgic for a time long past. And this nostalgia often makes the present seem less than satisfactory. I'm always watching old movies and pining for the Carey Grants of the world. Constant comparisons, constant disappointments. But! Midnight seems to be completely anti-nostalgic. The contemporary man's idea of the Golden Age is the roaring twenties gal's boring reality. The Parisian artists of the fin-de-siecle dream of the Renaissance...
Classic grass-is-greener syndrome. Denial of the present.

"Quotes"

"The earth is my body; my head is in the stars."- Harold and Maude, 1971

My mood ring is dark blue.

Storytime...

With David Sedaris

Paraphrasing a newspaper clipping he received from a stranger:

"It concerned an eighty-one-year-old Vermont man whose home was overrun by mice. The actual house was not described, but in my mind it was two stories tall and isolated on a country road. I also decided that it was painted white--not that it mattered much, I just thought it was a nice touch. So, the retired guys house was overrun, and when he could no longer bear it, he fumigated. The mice fled into the yard and settled into a dead pile of leaves, which no doubt crackled beneath their weight. Thinking he had them trapped, the man set the pile on fire, then watched as a single flaming mouse raced back into the basement and burned the house to the ground."

When You Are Engulfed in Flames, pg 196

Other People's Words

"What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness."- Tolstoy