is to clean my apartment.  If I accomplish this, I may have to take photos and post them here, because honestly, it doesn’t happen very often.  Most of the time, my apartment looks a disaster area and I’m kinda okay with that.  I half-clean when I have company, and even then I tend to just tidy-up the living room and throw all my junk into my bedroom.  I do dishes once every three weeks, maybe, and by the time I get around to doing laundry I usually have to wear either formal wear or scrubs to the laundromat, because I have absolutely nothing else that’s clean.

I used to think my inability to keep a clean apartment was an unconscious, childish rebellion against an anachronistic notion that women are natural nesters and housekeepers.  But no, I’m not really that deep.  I’m just messy. 

In defense of my messiness, I reference Bukowski’s Too Sensitive, where he says “often, the state of the kitchen is the state of the mind, confused and unsure men, pliable men are the thinkers.  their kitchens are like their minds, cluttered with garbage, dirty ware, impurity, but they are aware of their mind-state and find some humor in it.  at times, with a violent burst of fire they defy the eternal deities and come up with a lot of shining that we sometimes call creation …” and “the man with the every-orderly kitchen is the freak, however.  beware of him … if you listen to him for ten minutes you will know that anything he says in a lifetime will be essentially meaningless and always dull.   he is a cement man.  there are more cement men than other kinds of men.  so if you are looking for a living man, first check his kitchen and save yourself time.” 

So see, my messy kitchen (and entire apartment) can be explained by my impure, cluttered, creative mind … or entropy.  ha. 

Of course, the next paragraph in the story is about how that maxim doesn’t apply to women, because Bukowski is an a**hole and quite possible/definitely/maybe a misogynist (it’s so hard to tell how much of him to take seriously), so I don’t know why I listen to him anyway.  I love/hate him.

Now I have that Modest Mouse song in my head:  

“Woke up this morning and it seemed to me, 
that every night turns out to be
A little more like Bukowski.
And yeah, I know he’s a pretty good read. 
But God who’d wanna be? 
God who’d wanna be such an asshole?”

She was incredible.  

She seemed so comfortable and happy to be performing.  Her voice was amazing and she had great stage presence.  She played a short set (around 40 minutes), but it was solid throughout.

I’ve always respected Mandy Moore (she’s brilliant in Saved and I like that she hasn’t succumbed to the pressure to be a size 0), but last night was the first time I’ve seen her live.  I am now pretty much a fan for life.  

Also, anyone who names their dog after Joni Mitchell is a hero in my book.

My friend Krishna look lots of photos, a few of which I’ve posted here.  I also got to meet her after the show.  She was lovely.  I asked if I could take a photo with her and she said that it was fine as long as I didn’t mind that she was sweaty and gross.  I think she she looks beautiful.  Me, on the other hand … well, I look like a midget, even though I’m actually 5’6”.  Mandy was wearing these kick-ass 4” heels though, so that didn’t help.  Seriously though, if anyone knows where I can find a less-expensive version of those shoes, please let me know.  

He’s in Cape Town right now, but will be in Johannesburg on Thursday, and then on my apartment doorstep almost exactly one week from this very moment.

I’m not sure why I’m writing this other than to say that crap, I have a lot to do before then.

He’ll be staying with me until the second week in September.  I have no idea what I’ll be doing or if I’ll even still be in San Diego after June 21st.  

I also have no idea what he’ll be doing, since he only has a tourist visa and can’t work, and I’ll be super busy until graduation.  

Maybe I’ll convince him to start a tumblr.

Should be an interesting summer … 

I’ve thought quite a lot about god, religion, and the interplay between the two recently after a two-year long break.  I co-produced a documentary about religion a few years ago.  I’ve mentioned it here before in passing, but never explicitly, because I have so many conflicting opinions.  The IMDB profile for it is here.  I got involved because I had worked previously with the director and thought it would be an interesting project, not because I advocate for the views expressed in the documentary.  

I learned a whole lot about a lot of things (few of which have anything to do with religion) while making the film, so overall it was a great experience, but I have trouble talking about it now, since it is so controversial and militant in its stance.  I don’t feel that way anymore (if I ever did) and I don’t want to offend my religious friends, because I respect their views and value their perspective.

There’s a girl on tumblr who I follow who seems very sweet and genuine, and for whom God is very much a real presence in her life.  I think that’s lovely, actually, but I could never go back to believing again.  I’ve devoted too much time to rational thought and critical thinking and the truth is, I don’t believe in God.  I just don’t.  

And while I certainly don’t miss organized religion, I miss having faith in something other than this world.  I’m envious of those who embrace some form (any form) of spirituality.  Not because I want comfort or something/someone to fall back on and certainly not because I need a moral compass (if your faith is the sole basis of your sense of morality-what does that say about you, really?), but because by eliminating the sense of something beyond what I can see, test, and empirically ”know,” I’m worried that I’m stifling my creativity.  

I posted about this first a few weeks ago here, in response to Ryan Adams, but then took it down.  I thought it was dumb when I read it back later, and maybe it is, I don’t know, I have no perspective when it comes to my own writing.  I’m reposting it again, though.

I seriously need to finish this paper.  It’s starting to have seriously negative effects on my mental health.

Oh, and Tami, what do you think about God? 

melanyouth:

After coming across Bucky’s quote, I thought I’d look up what some other people have said about the existence of God. I don’t really have any opinions on what these three guys have to say, but I do think it is an interesting question to ask of anyone.
.

In between working on a paper late on a Saturday night:  I cry, write terrible emo poetry, then dance around like crazy to Madonna in my living room with a ridiculous grin on my face.  

Then I blog about it.

I only had one drink this evening, so I can’t blame my mood swings on that.  Stress?  Lack of sleep?  Oppressive heat (my apartment is at least 80 degrees and it’s 1am)?

Yeah, it’s probably the heat. 

I need to finish this damn paper. 

I wonder if my landlord would let me install a stripper pole in my living room? 

I thought I had to turn in my project by midnight Sunday, but it turns out it’s actually due midnight on Monday, so I went to sleep for five hours or so and am starting again today.  I feel much better.

And thank you, it is nice to meet you, too.  

allthematterintheworld:

Oh dear. I am sad that someone else is experiencing the same discomfort I am right now. Hopefully you are finished by now. It is 4:30 here and I am sad. Lulz. I also have a boy in my bed who is preventing me from sleeping in it so I suppose that is a good thing. Now I have to finish this bastard of a paper. I was drunk dialed three times tonight and received numerous invites to various parties, so I feel you on everyone else being out. Though I am having a party tomorrow to make up for it. :) Also while I am talking to you— :)

 Fact: people who major in cognitive science are especially cool. I thought about doing gradwork in it. What’s weird is that when I mention it to most people, they have no idea what it is. But it is fascinating. One of my friends is going to MIT for cogsci gradwork and I am incredibly amped for her.

And Ireland = amazing. I only had a few days to explore, but I studied abroad in England this fall and it was phenomenal. I miss it a lot. 

All this to say, thanks for thinking of me and nice to meet you! You are one cool tumblr-person. :) 

Thanks Matthew and Tami 

Matthew:  I googled and found those.  wow, some of them are really creepy.

I just tried to post them here, but flickr keeps telling me the image address is spaceball.gif, which I think is what people do when they don’t want others stealing them and posting them on their webpages. uh …ahem.  

So, if you’re at all interested (other than Matthew since he’s already seen these), they can be found:  here

mathewparkin:

yes I have, there is one in Norwich, Connecticut that flickr keeps on showing me (when I’m looking for Norwich UK not USA), which is pretty stunning. Thank you for these they are super.

Well, now you can, courtesy of me.

This hospital is still in operation, although many of its wings have been shut down and allowed to decay (as evidenced by the photos).  There is a general world-wide shift away from traditional mental health hospitals towards community care and psychiatric wards that are associated with general hospitals.  There are many very good reasons for this transition.   

I have always been fascinated by mental institutions (I’m in love with McLean hospital in MA) and have a general interest in the history of mental health care in the US and abroad.  I know this is a bit odd. 

While I was in Northern Ireland, I snuck into this hospital and took some photos.  It was strange, because so much of it was abandoned, but then I’d go through a door and see several patients playing cards or singing along to someone with a guitar, but then I’d exit through another door into an abandoned hallway.  It was very eerie and no one even once asked me what I was doing wandering the halls with a camera.  For obvious reasons, I didn’t take photos of the patients, but hopefully some of these set the scene.

This is all part of my project and I was supposed to get a guided tour, but scheduling didn’t work out, which is a blessing, I think.  If I had had a guide, I doubt I would have been allowed to take pictures, and the experience would not have been nearly as spooky and bizarre.