unorganized ramblings.

i think i have discovered a new mental condition which sets in when one is approximately nineteen years old and leads its victim to take great joy in events and activities revered by the elderly (early bird specials, crocheting, going to bed at 9 o'clock, grandma sweaters, vegetable gardening, so and so forth). about a year into the onset of the condition, physical manifestations of being elderly start to develop. these symptoms include: forgetfulness, exhaustion, and waking up at 2:30 AM to go pee. i hope once the medical community recognizes this as an actual diagnosis, they call it Proft Syndrome.

i'm trying to teach myself how to knit. i am impossibly terrible at it. it's so hard! my mom has been trying to help me, but she does not understand the concept of demonstrations with explanations, so when i ask her a question, she simply takes the knitting needles out of my hand and takes over. then when i continue to struggle and need further clarification she just yells in her german accent, "look! it's so easy! i don't know what your problem is." and i don't either. crocheting is so much easier.

i'm moving to atlanta on monday. it's sort of unbelievable. but i have always loved the atl, and i'm really excited about it. i keep thinking about how much i'm going to miss my dog, which is sort of dumb because my parents only live an hour and a half away.

something i despise more than almost anything is pretentiousness. there are lots of things and people i would classify as "pretentious," but i don't really have time for that. the group most often slapped with the pretentious label is the hipsters, which is a term that i don't think anyone really has a good grasp of because it's not very definite and people love to overuse it. sort like the term "emo" in 2003.

my personal vision of a hipster is this: a young man or woman who defines him or herself by the often douchey music, clothing and accessories he or she chooses to enjoy. there is not a problem in wearing clothes purchased at, say, american apparel and listening to obscure, pitchfork-approved bands. the issue is believing to be superior because of these things. because quality as a human being is not determined by how deep your v-neck is.

everyone is entitled to personal preference. this is america. you can like what you like, but you don't have to be an asshole about it.

there is something, however, that i have to be an asshole about: the ironic moustache.
(to demonstrate, here is a total stranger whose image comes up when you google search "ironic moustache.")



i fail to see why anyone with the ability to grow facial hair under the age of 35 would choose to put this above his lip. do you want to look like a child molester? i mean, who is laughing at this joke? i don't think the general public sees humor in ruining an otherwise perfectly attractive face. maybe it's funny for, like, the first week. but after that, the joke is clearly on the wearer. because no one will want to have sex with you.

must sleep.

doing this thing again where i overestimate my control over the universe. am under the impresion that there is an appropriate amount of worry i need to generate in order for me to get what i want. i think this is probably a sign of insanity, thinking that the universe only takes your requests seriously if you cry about it just right.

to counter my crazy, i am trying to be relaxed by letting the chips fall as they may, but it's rather difficult to suppress feeling overwhelmed and frustrated.

on a brighter, unrelated note, i have been attempting to grow a vegetable garden, and today i ate the first of my cucumbers! which was quite tasty, in case you were wondering.

wheelchair jimmy, we need to talk.

this is the overdue video for "best i ever had:"



1. this was directed by my former main squeeze, kanye west. i would just like to say i expect more of you, good sir.

2. i was asked to be in this video but declined after bras were banned from the set.

3. they really put those degrassi acting skills to use there, didn't they?