Monday, 8 June 2009

Cheetos are beautiful. For so many, many reasons.

I started to write this post today about finding beauty in the small stuff – in nature, the perfect symmetry of flowers, yada, yada. But then I read it and was like “Gag. Who is this hippy that’s overtaken my brain and started making me write puke worthy posts?” So I nixed it.

Seriously, though, I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been feeling really emotional and sensitive or because I’ve been drunk a little too much of the time, but I’ve been finding art in things around me a lot lately and really enjoying it.

For example, yesterday I stared at a Cheeto for about five minutes because I swear it looked like an owl to me. (Owl’s are one of the only birds I do not find completely terrifying, P.S.) Then I thought of that episode of the Simpsons with The Leader where Homer keeps seeing the Leader’s face in his lima beans and saves them on a shelf. Then I had “nana nana nana nana Leader!” in my head all day. (I’m only half joking about the above statement. This is really how my brain works.)

I actually got my film camera out for the first time in a while and spent about an hour in the late evening walking around, just observing my neighborhood from a different perspective. I think there was something about all the trauma of being with The Ex that stole away a lot of my desire for art and beauty. It’s been a year (which I just realized in talking with a friend on Saturday. That’s a long fracking time) but there’s really not an ounce of pain left over any of that. It’s amazing.

Speaking of art, I’d like you all to check out THE CUTEST thing I’ve just discovered thanks to VC. It’s a shop of a friend of his and her stuff is adorable. I know what all of my besties are getting as gifts for now on.

And, speaking of besties … I had an amazing weekend celebrating the birthday of one BFF Ms. Martini. There are stories to tell, but luckily no one fell down and broke an arm. I did, however, become fixated on dancing at the most fab gay club in our neighborhood around 2 a.m. and took off running toward it, with open arms, screaming “Amsterdam!” Good friend J. saved me from a most certain collision with the light rail, so I’m told, by slinging me over his shoulder and forcing me to come home. Good ol’ SG. Life of the party.

I relayed this story to a friend yesterday as I was pondering my bruised rib cage and he said: You always do accelerate before you hit the wall.

Good to know.

On a sad note, would you all please observe a moment of silence for a lovely human being and artist, Jeff Hanson, who passed away tragically this weekend at the all too young age of 31. For those of you who aren’t familiar with his music, listen to it. It’s incredible.

Weirdly, I had this dream about him just before this news. I was at this party and, as a surprise, I had somehow convinced Jeff Hanson to play for VC who loves him. In real life, we actually just met him a few weeks ago and I feel lucky I got to hear him play and shake his hand before this terrible accident. R.I.P.


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  2. Hells yeah! Hope all your besties need zombie frogs and forlorn yetis. Thanks for the shout out! And sorry I'm an idiot and having problems with the comments.

  3. Oh weird. I discovered Jeff Hanson a few months back and loved his music. It's sad that he is no longer.

    Also, please tell Miss Martini Happy Birthday. I miss her blog and have no other way to tell her.

  4. Lets all aplaud the awesome text I sent Martini. No no please talk about me some more.

    I threw a shoes this weekend, you tried to hug inanimate objections. I call it a wash.

  5. Happy Birthday to the fabulous Ms. Martini!!! :) Sounds like you had a blast! I totally understand the accelerating before you hit the wall statement! :)

  6. Can we please all appreciate the gift that Single Grrrl gave me for my birthday? A bottle of good vodka and a jar of blue-cheese-stuffed olives? She knows what my heaven is.

    (And yes, RS, your text was fab. I wish I could repost it, but I couldn't think of a fake name that rhymes with my real name. Dilemma.)

  7. plushroom soup -- who doesn't need a forlorn yeti? I've yet to meet this person ...

    Lauren -- agreed. Very sad. And I did indeed pass it on to Martini.

    rs27 -- we did applaud you. I think we may have even toasted you. No, wait, that was me and the rad gifts I gave her. Ha. And I read your blog and I think your story wins.

    Kellie -- someday we will accelerate and hit that wall together. And then the pictures will end up on your blog.

    Martini -- Aw, spanx, you make me blush.