"Sometimes I get so excited thinking about my morning coffee,"
Mr. Söderblad said, "I can't fall asleep at night."
Jonathan Franzen
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
office supplies
"Watching movies is so easy," Luke said, in reference to how much more work it is to read a book, or worse, to sit down to write.
But I thought that, the whole way back to the suburbs.
Watching the movie is so much easier.
Luke doesn't own a stapler, but he has moved out of his parents' home.
My car might be broken down, but I have small things like a personal stapler and a perfect cup of coffee everyday.
He might have independence, but I have 4 Australians who follow me from room to room and tell me that my hair looks nice, and could they please have a piece of my ice cream cone.
But what is happens is that these days turn into different days, and that the weather changes eventually, and that bands come out with new albums, and that your skin keeps keeping the organs inside of your body as best it can.
So you might not look like the other people here, but there are lots of people in other towns who would think you are doing a really regular or even good job at your life.
But I thought that, the whole way back to the suburbs.
Watching the movie is so much easier.
Luke doesn't own a stapler, but he has moved out of his parents' home.
My car might be broken down, but I have small things like a personal stapler and a perfect cup of coffee everyday.
He might have independence, but I have 4 Australians who follow me from room to room and tell me that my hair looks nice, and could they please have a piece of my ice cream cone.
But what is happens is that these days turn into different days, and that the weather changes eventually, and that bands come out with new albums, and that your skin keeps keeping the organs inside of your body as best it can.
So you might not look like the other people here, but there are lots of people in other towns who would think you are doing a really regular or even good job at your life.
Saturday, July 07, 2012
july 7
My father started to listen to that hipster radio station, before I could even notice. I left the room one day, and when I came back, he wasn't listening to NPR anymore. He was listening to whatever the kids downtown are listening to.
So I made us several pans of cinnamon rolls.
Every Saturday that I didn't have to work the morning rush and stand at that window and watch a carousel of the meanest people in the world lazily stick their hands out of their car window and receive for their non-efforts a perfectly crafted beverage back into those rude hands, well. Those Saturdays were what kept me going. The illusion of a weekend specially for me.
And the most shocking thing about my father listening to the hipster radio station, was that I had tried this before. I had tried the station before, when NPR would let me down at 8:30 or 9:45 or 11:59 during Jazz hours and before the comforting sound of the BBC radio telling me I'd stayed up far too late, and that I might indeed be a teenager. The hipster station would let me down with some evening garbage that did not sound very hipster, or perhaps it was so hipster that it was even making it hard for the hipsters to breathe, in their cooler-than-me euphoria.
But days passed, and each time my father turned on the station, it relentlessly played music I liked, and was surprised that he would leave the radio on, and that we were both enjoying my kind of music, while I was trying to eat a whole watermelon by myself.
You can wait out a whole summer, in your house, if you try hard enough. You have to prepare ahead of time, though.
So I made us several pans of cinnamon rolls.
Every Saturday that I didn't have to work the morning rush and stand at that window and watch a carousel of the meanest people in the world lazily stick their hands out of their car window and receive for their non-efforts a perfectly crafted beverage back into those rude hands, well. Those Saturdays were what kept me going. The illusion of a weekend specially for me.
And the most shocking thing about my father listening to the hipster radio station, was that I had tried this before. I had tried the station before, when NPR would let me down at 8:30 or 9:45 or 11:59 during Jazz hours and before the comforting sound of the BBC radio telling me I'd stayed up far too late, and that I might indeed be a teenager. The hipster station would let me down with some evening garbage that did not sound very hipster, or perhaps it was so hipster that it was even making it hard for the hipsters to breathe, in their cooler-than-me euphoria.
But days passed, and each time my father turned on the station, it relentlessly played music I liked, and was surprised that he would leave the radio on, and that we were both enjoying my kind of music, while I was trying to eat a whole watermelon by myself.
You can wait out a whole summer, in your house, if you try hard enough. You have to prepare ahead of time, though.
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