I recently posted about this here. I love Tinder. It gives me license to judge people on face value, which, unfortunately, societal norms don’t allow me to do face to face. Anonymity is a beautiful thing. I’m going on my first Tinder date on Friday. I fully expect to feel as awkward as Mitt Romney at a reggae concert. Yet I look forward to it, because for lonely college students everywhere, the Tinder logo represents the possibility of sex and regret.
I like music that makes me think. This can come in two forms: it can be stylistically complex or the lyrics can tell me a story. For this reason, I have an aversion to overtly simplistic pop music. However, sometimes, it is simply a small sound or technique within a song that causes me to hate it.
Such is the case with Lana del Rey. At face value, I would expect to love her music. The beats and instruments are interesting and keep my attention, but her voice immediately turns me off. Someone once described her to me as pop alternative opera, but her voice sounds entirely average to me. Sometimes, she chooses to make it raspy or to over-enunciate consonants. Each song as a whole strikes me as mediocre, and these bad stylistic choices, sometimes just a few bars, make me wince. Listening to her music feels like an incredible waste of time.
I write to you from the lonely wasteland that is my bed. The reason for this is simple, I have had my wisdom teeth pulled. Wholly hole-y.
I would not have been as fearful upon entering surgery had it not been for an outdated video from the 90s that was shown to me last week. Not Buzzfeed-fun-90s, but public health annoucement with special effects that gave me nightmares. I’m still not sure if the nightmares were from its overall bad quality or the material it contained.
1) Lack of talent. It’s not that I don’t have skills, it’s that they’re not marketable. Sure, I sing and play piano, but so does everyone else, and what makes my singing and playing piano any more memorable? Absolutely nuthin’. Not to mention my songs sound like Elton John’s B-sides meet drunken homeless bluesman.
I really enjoy meeting new people. Like, a lot. I enjoy opening conversations with random strangers (and that, kids, is how I found out that the government is monitoring my facebook for evidence of alien interaction). My trip to the east coast was wonderful, partially because travel and college, but mainly because I talked to a lot of random people. So now I’m going to profile them.
1. People see you. The reaction of the individual observing you torture yourself depends on their own body composition. If they are fat, they will feel terrible about themselves, make a remark about how they need to start working out, and resent you. If they are skinny, they will judge your body—rank sweat and all—and promptly feel better about themselves. You either piss people off or feed their ego. And in my case, people don’t need their egos fed. I wear a hoodie so people don’t recognize me. Continue reading →