from here, to articulate the internal east coast and west coast battles dueling around in my mind, we shall call the states i love by new names.
from here on out, california shall be called "Comfort."
from here on out, new york shall be called "Keen."
com·fort (kmfrt) aka California:
tr.v. com·fort·ed, com·fort·ing, com·forts
1. To soothe in time of affliction or distress.
2. To ease physically; relieve.
n.
1. A condition or feeling of pleasurable ease, well-being, and contentment.
2. Solace in time of grief or fear.
3. Help; assistance: gave comfort to the enemy.
4. One that brings or provides comfort.
5. The capacity to give physical ease and well-being: enjoying the comfort of my favorite chair.
6. Chiefly Southern & Lower Northern U.S. A quilted bedcover; a comforter.
keen 1 (kn) aka New York:
adj. keen·er, keen·est
1. Having a fine, sharp cutting edge or point.
2. Having or marked by intellectual quickness and acuity. See Synonyms at sharp.
3. Acutely sensitive: a keen ear.
4. Sharp; vivid; strong: "His entire body hungered for keen sensation, something exciting" Richard Wright.
5. Intense; piercing: a keen wind.
6. Pungent; acrid: A keen smell of skunk was left behind.
7.
a. Ardent; enthusiastic: a keen chess player.
b. Eagerly desirous: keen on going to Europe in the spring.
8. Slang Great; splendid; fine: What a keen day!
Keen and Comfort have drawn their swords. each wears a significant amount of armor, and each has tricks up his sleeve that could slice the other through the middle.
Comfort's big trick is to intice and deceive. he will becon you with his sweetness, lure you with his beauty, and make you beleive he is a harmless and sexy beacon of light. you are drawn to him, you will want to be near him.
then he will throw his Cloak of Comfort over you, and you must surrender. you will be rendered helpless and you will be rendered blind.
Keen employs very different tactics. although very inticing, like Comfort, Keen does not use his physical charisma to charm you. instead he exists just as he is, raw and real, and uses sheer force to capture you. he is cunning and evil; he will morph you to beleive you are part of this. he will turn you into one of his army and you will feel frightened by and devoted to him at the same time. once you have served him, you will in a strange sense be addicted to this service. nothing else seems quite as important as Keen.
in a battle, Keen and Comfort are a strange match up. the fight is never ending, because at different times one or the other will have the upper hand. in the winter, comfort pins Keen against the brick wall of his fortress whereas in another season Keen's sword will be at Comfort's fleshy throat.
today, there is a stalemate. in my mind, neither Keen nor Comfort can win.
i wish to be free from their fighting.
it is a simpe discussion of physical space.
California is so much space. it seems these wood floors go on forever, and the freeways never stop. even the edges of the state seem limitless; the Pacific is only an extension of a Californian's oceanfront property. this space tricks Californians into beleiving they are entitled to it, that they deserve this beauty that surrounds them. for this, Californians feel both lucky and isolated.
it seems that the confines of space in New York force New Yorkers to expand in different ways. they build upwards and underground. they push themselves onto the streets, into the world, and they expand their minds. when there is no more room to spread out, they collide into each other and interact. it is a place of collisions, all around. collisions that hurt and create hardness and strength. for this, New Yorkers feel both lucky and isolated.
Joan Didion once described leaving California for New York as a self exile, as a "perversity of heart" that makes one feel that they are not worthy of California's perfection/beauty/comfort. i have felt similarly, and when i read this i wished i had thought of it first.
on a train back into los angeles yesterday morning i found myself unable to look out the window at the low fields and factories that sprawl through the space between southern california's cities, simply for the depressed state it put me in. only when we slowed and inched into the rusty station, graffitied and decaying and brick buildings, did i feel comfort again. a strange, keen, comfort, i think, like i learned to find in New York.
los angeles, im yours.
i have come to the conclusion that los angeles is stuck in the eighties.
first of all, all the signs and storefronts are still colored the hot pink or teal green of decades past.
the architecture is all square boxes meeting round curves; the sand and waves of 1986.
people here love eighties things: cars, the color blonde, billboards that are usually pink, malls with fountains.
wanting to be a movie star, although this has been a desire of many decades, seems especially eighties to me.
and beverly hills. or people drinking cherry coke.
those advertisements that trail in the air behind airplanes that adversize domestic beers.
in los angeles this weekend, i got my first sunburn of the season (sunburns are so '89). it was at a pool party for memorial day, and we celebrated for the soldiers.
we were drinking bud light on the rooftop of marisa's apartment building and making waves in the swimming pool. it was especially american and especially fun. there was meat on the barbeque, sizzling.
marisa was the perfect hostess. she made blue cheese pinwheels and made sure we had enough gin with our tonic.
marisa is what we like to call "outlandish." she is a true friend because of her passion for gin and jokes. she also has the power to make any un-funny joke absolutely hilarious based solely on her delivery.
in her company, in one solitary weekend, the following terms were perfected for everyday usage:
1. GRADE A: an off-shoot of "eggy," replacing or in conjunction with the term "eggiest person alive."
2. FARM FRESH: a similar off-shoot. see above.
3. YOUNG AND INNOCENT: a term to describe people that behave like madelaine baer.
4. BONKERS: okay, so this wasnt introduced this weekend, but marisa deserves full credit for bringing "bonkers" back. thats right: BONKERS IS BACK.
eg:
Marisa: "Last night was BONKERS!"
Molly: "Yeah, you were being BONKSIES. Too bad the YOUNG AND INNOCENT was GRADE A. It ruined my night"
Marisa: "Stop being OUTLANDISH. You had a RIDONKULOUS time. Although that DJ was FARM FRESH."
Molly: "I know. And I can't believe Kelsey doesnt know the song "this is why im hot" by Music Is My Savior (MIMS). What an EGGBALL."
Marisa: "Shes just young....and innocent."
I read an article in Vice magazine the other day called "Enough Already: Slang is Totes Stoops in Charge," which voiced the ridiculous opinion that slang is "over" and "not cute anymore."
I have something to say.
Vice is OVER.
Vice is NOT CUTE ANYMORE.
Maybe last summer, when your American Apparell adds and shit talking still shocked us, you were still cute.
But as far as I'm concerned, lingo rules. And Vice magazine should be put in the used to be really cool but now blows section of the trend records.
Along with the eighties.
Along with Los Angeles.
Luckily, the eighties is a canopy decade. These years, however corny, are ones of youth and innocence. When we return to the eighties in our minds (whether by landing in Los Angeles or going to a drive-in movie or wearing Keds) we feel a canopy of childhood decend upon us. The same goes for old friends.
So when I landed amongst the lonely palms on Saturday, picked up by my best friend and sister Maddy Baer in her 1992 Volvo wagon, I was immediately cloaked in comfort. Then we ate kale from Whole Foods and drank Sierra Nevada brewed in Nor Cal and I was home again.
Brooklyn seems like something of the past. California's gauzy sunlight and grey mountains are all around me again. And I feel young....and innocent...in this golden state.
first of all, all the signs and storefronts are still colored the hot pink or teal green of decades past.
the architecture is all square boxes meeting round curves; the sand and waves of 1986.
people here love eighties things: cars, the color blonde, billboards that are usually pink, malls with fountains.
wanting to be a movie star, although this has been a desire of many decades, seems especially eighties to me.
and beverly hills. or people drinking cherry coke.
those advertisements that trail in the air behind airplanes that adversize domestic beers.
in los angeles this weekend, i got my first sunburn of the season (sunburns are so '89). it was at a pool party for memorial day, and we celebrated for the soldiers.
we were drinking bud light on the rooftop of marisa's apartment building and making waves in the swimming pool. it was especially american and especially fun. there was meat on the barbeque, sizzling.
marisa was the perfect hostess. she made blue cheese pinwheels and made sure we had enough gin with our tonic.
marisa is what we like to call "outlandish." she is a true friend because of her passion for gin and jokes. she also has the power to make any un-funny joke absolutely hilarious based solely on her delivery.
in her company, in one solitary weekend, the following terms were perfected for everyday usage:
1. GRADE A: an off-shoot of "eggy," replacing or in conjunction with the term "eggiest person alive."
2. FARM FRESH: a similar off-shoot. see above.
3. YOUNG AND INNOCENT: a term to describe people that behave like madelaine baer.
4. BONKERS: okay, so this wasnt introduced this weekend, but marisa deserves full credit for bringing "bonkers" back. thats right: BONKERS IS BACK.
eg:
Marisa: "Last night was BONKERS!"
Molly: "Yeah, you were being BONKSIES. Too bad the YOUNG AND INNOCENT was GRADE A. It ruined my night"
Marisa: "Stop being OUTLANDISH. You had a RIDONKULOUS time. Although that DJ was FARM FRESH."
Molly: "I know. And I can't believe Kelsey doesnt know the song "this is why im hot" by Music Is My Savior (MIMS). What an EGGBALL."
Marisa: "Shes just young....and innocent."
I read an article in Vice magazine the other day called "Enough Already: Slang is Totes Stoops in Charge," which voiced the ridiculous opinion that slang is "over" and "not cute anymore."
I have something to say.
Vice is OVER.
Vice is NOT CUTE ANYMORE.
Maybe last summer, when your American Apparell adds and shit talking still shocked us, you were still cute.
But as far as I'm concerned, lingo rules. And Vice magazine should be put in the used to be really cool but now blows section of the trend records.
Along with the eighties.
Along with Los Angeles.
Luckily, the eighties is a canopy decade. These years, however corny, are ones of youth and innocence. When we return to the eighties in our minds (whether by landing in Los Angeles or going to a drive-in movie or wearing Keds) we feel a canopy of childhood decend upon us. The same goes for old friends.
So when I landed amongst the lonely palms on Saturday, picked up by my best friend and sister Maddy Baer in her 1992 Volvo wagon, I was immediately cloaked in comfort. Then we ate kale from Whole Foods and drank Sierra Nevada brewed in Nor Cal and I was home again.
Brooklyn seems like something of the past. California's gauzy sunlight and grey mountains are all around me again. And I feel young....and innocent...in this golden state.
fiestas.
i am leaving new york for a time, which is quite sad.
there will be a party with music and dancing to celebrate my leaving.
one and all should attend.
a three year old told me today:
"youre my goose."
and she patted my head.
thank god.
see you on thursday night at nine at my apartment and ill save you a dance.
there will be a party with music and dancing to celebrate my leaving.
one and all should attend.
a three year old told me today:
"youre my goose."
and she patted my head.
thank god.
see you on thursday night at nine at my apartment and ill save you a dance.
sundays.
there are things about sundays that are lovely. there is a sense of calm that enters the bones, as well as a forced laziness that is shared by all. everyone is doing sunday things, there is a big newspaper to fill your morning, you can wear a dress and feel sweet and fine.
this sunday was especially famous because we sold lemonade in the park for ninety nine cents and Nilla wafers with frosting for twenty five and and got our pictures in the paper just for being cute and young again. for a moment we were like celebrities.
but then it started raining on our lemonade stand, so we ran indoors. the cookies got all wet and we smelled like wet grass. we found shelter under the turkeys nest awning and then in a friends house on bedford avenue. our parade was drenched.
when it stopped raining, i went back outside and into the park. there was nothing else to do because it was a sunday.
walking laps around the childlike adults and the adult-like children with my friend damon, he tells me:
semicolons are the new hyphens.
this is something i have been thinking for a while now but have not articulated, so it hits me hard and makes me laugh.
i'm way into the semi these days.
the thing about sundays is that there is somewhat of an eggy element nuzzled in there between all of the fun and lounging. and because you are probably all wondering what eggy means, it might be time for a new lingo lesson.
EGGY is used to describe something that is irritating, annoying, heinous, bad, hurtful, or stupid. imagine walking on eggshells, getting an egg cracked on your head, having yolk all over your body, or getting an eggshell in your teeth. all very EGGY things.
as an adjective, EGGY can be used to describe a person, a situation, or a thing. one could say:
"I'm so eggy. I have to be at work at seven tomorrow morning."
using the same sentence, for a slightly different effect, EGGY can be used as an exclamation in itself:
"I have to be at work at seven tomorrow morning. EGGY!"
The term is often used in lovers quarrels in the following manner:
Boyfriend: "Stop being so eggy. It was only a kiss."
Girlfriend: "Youre eggy. Its over."
Boyfriend: "Eggy."
Girlfriend: "Super eggy all your fault."
As a noun, EGGY can be modified as follows:
EGG BALL
EGG HEAD
EGGY BAGEL
PELOTA DE HUEVOS
HUEVOS RANCHEROS
HUEVOS PAN
EGGS ON YOUR FACE
eg: "Travis was such an egg ball in class today. He didn't say one word to me the whole time."
eg: "My roommate left a huge mess in the kitchen. Huevos pan."
please feel free to embrace and employ this glorious term. i have been told it has changed lives.
back to sundays and their element of egginess. you know what i mean by this. the forced relaxation. the impending doom of the week to come. the laundry. the post-brunch mimosa hangover that disables you for the rest of the day. the shifting and moving from coffee shop to coffee shop with your book. the feeling that you are wasting something, time, energy, space, life. it is always on sundays that i try to theorize about my existence as a human.
we made thirty dollars at our lemonade stand. enough to buy burritos at taco chulo and a couple beers.
this sunday was especially famous because we sold lemonade in the park for ninety nine cents and Nilla wafers with frosting for twenty five and and got our pictures in the paper just for being cute and young again. for a moment we were like celebrities.
but then it started raining on our lemonade stand, so we ran indoors. the cookies got all wet and we smelled like wet grass. we found shelter under the turkeys nest awning and then in a friends house on bedford avenue. our parade was drenched.
when it stopped raining, i went back outside and into the park. there was nothing else to do because it was a sunday.
walking laps around the childlike adults and the adult-like children with my friend damon, he tells me:
semicolons are the new hyphens.
this is something i have been thinking for a while now but have not articulated, so it hits me hard and makes me laugh.
i'm way into the semi these days.
the thing about sundays is that there is somewhat of an eggy element nuzzled in there between all of the fun and lounging. and because you are probably all wondering what eggy means, it might be time for a new lingo lesson.
EGGY is used to describe something that is irritating, annoying, heinous, bad, hurtful, or stupid. imagine walking on eggshells, getting an egg cracked on your head, having yolk all over your body, or getting an eggshell in your teeth. all very EGGY things.
as an adjective, EGGY can be used to describe a person, a situation, or a thing. one could say:
"I'm so eggy. I have to be at work at seven tomorrow morning."
using the same sentence, for a slightly different effect, EGGY can be used as an exclamation in itself:
"I have to be at work at seven tomorrow morning. EGGY!"
The term is often used in lovers quarrels in the following manner:
Boyfriend: "Stop being so eggy. It was only a kiss."
Girlfriend: "Youre eggy. Its over."
Boyfriend: "Eggy."
Girlfriend: "Super eggy all your fault."
As a noun, EGGY can be modified as follows:
EGG BALL
EGG HEAD
EGGY BAGEL
PELOTA DE HUEVOS
HUEVOS RANCHEROS
HUEVOS PAN
EGGS ON YOUR FACE
eg: "Travis was such an egg ball in class today. He didn't say one word to me the whole time."
eg: "My roommate left a huge mess in the kitchen. Huevos pan."
please feel free to embrace and employ this glorious term. i have been told it has changed lives.
back to sundays and their element of egginess. you know what i mean by this. the forced relaxation. the impending doom of the week to come. the laundry. the post-brunch mimosa hangover that disables you for the rest of the day. the shifting and moving from coffee shop to coffee shop with your book. the feeling that you are wasting something, time, energy, space, life. it is always on sundays that i try to theorize about my existence as a human.
we made thirty dollars at our lemonade stand. enough to buy burritos at taco chulo and a couple beers.
for galen.
my friend galen told me i should have a blog. sometimes i think he is smarter than i, so i listen to him a lot. like he tells me to buy some white nurse shoes at a thrift store, and i do it. he tells me to ditch that cruel hearted hipster lover of mine, and i do. he tells me to start blogging, and here i am, punching away at some keys on a saturday.
galen was my first boyfriend ever, so i suppose he has had some sort of stranglehold on me since the seventh grade.
galen says to blog about all the silly language i use. i love language, you see, and i like to manipulate it and twist it around so it suits me. i am fascinated by the way people use language, especially slang and lingo, to personalize their speak, to make language their own. i do this frequently; i cut up words and use chunks of them, i throw words from other languages around with ease, and i try to pick up on the freshest new lingo from wherever i am. galen loves this about me, so i have started to think that maybe i'm sort of cool.
the best part about making up or using lingo is the popularization of it. lingo, if introduced and used properly, can spread like a disease through a group of people. like a fashion trend or a popular song; people will gravitate towards a new word or catch phrase and begin to integrate it into everyday conversations. being the one who initiates this movement of language is both empowering and hilarious.
lets look at an example, which is one of my personal favorite slang words: TROPPO.
TROPPO means "too much" in italian. An italian who has overindulged in a plate of tortelloni may say "Ho mangiato troppo," which translates to "I have eaten too much."
while living in italy, many words caught my attenion (because they were beautiful, terribly annoying, hilarious, or simply catchy), and this was one of them. it falls off of your tongue like pebbles because of the TR sound, and can be used in so many contexts!
examples of using TROPPO in conversation include:
1. Her outfit is TROPPO! (in reference to someone wearing something excessive or heinous...or just TOO MUCH)
2. Dude, I got TROPPED last night. (in refference to drinking TOO MUCH)
3. That guy is TROPPO. He will never shut up. (in reference to someone who bothers or annoys you, or is TOO MUCH to handle.)
TROPPO originated while studying abroad in italy. it was first used by myself and a good american friend who slept in my bed every night. we laughed about getting "tropped" and the "troppo" italians we'd meet on our trips around europe. the word moved around our circle of american friends like wildfire. when we returned to california, we were still saying it regularly; it had become a natural and easy part of our dialogues. our college friends soon picked up on it, then our families. now my friends in brooklyn are hooked. they are getting tropped at union pool and then talking about how troppo union pool is. defo williamsburg.
so there you have it galen. my first blog. is this troppo? molly, who hates computers, starting a blog?
more to come.
galen was my first boyfriend ever, so i suppose he has had some sort of stranglehold on me since the seventh grade.
galen says to blog about all the silly language i use. i love language, you see, and i like to manipulate it and twist it around so it suits me. i am fascinated by the way people use language, especially slang and lingo, to personalize their speak, to make language their own. i do this frequently; i cut up words and use chunks of them, i throw words from other languages around with ease, and i try to pick up on the freshest new lingo from wherever i am. galen loves this about me, so i have started to think that maybe i'm sort of cool.
the best part about making up or using lingo is the popularization of it. lingo, if introduced and used properly, can spread like a disease through a group of people. like a fashion trend or a popular song; people will gravitate towards a new word or catch phrase and begin to integrate it into everyday conversations. being the one who initiates this movement of language is both empowering and hilarious.
lets look at an example, which is one of my personal favorite slang words: TROPPO.
TROPPO means "too much" in italian. An italian who has overindulged in a plate of tortelloni may say "Ho mangiato troppo," which translates to "I have eaten too much."
while living in italy, many words caught my attenion (because they were beautiful, terribly annoying, hilarious, or simply catchy), and this was one of them. it falls off of your tongue like pebbles because of the TR sound, and can be used in so many contexts!
examples of using TROPPO in conversation include:
1. Her outfit is TROPPO! (in reference to someone wearing something excessive or heinous...or just TOO MUCH)
2. Dude, I got TROPPED last night. (in refference to drinking TOO MUCH)
3. That guy is TROPPO. He will never shut up. (in reference to someone who bothers or annoys you, or is TOO MUCH to handle.)
TROPPO originated while studying abroad in italy. it was first used by myself and a good american friend who slept in my bed every night. we laughed about getting "tropped" and the "troppo" italians we'd meet on our trips around europe. the word moved around our circle of american friends like wildfire. when we returned to california, we were still saying it regularly; it had become a natural and easy part of our dialogues. our college friends soon picked up on it, then our families. now my friends in brooklyn are hooked. they are getting tropped at union pool and then talking about how troppo union pool is. defo williamsburg.
so there you have it galen. my first blog. is this troppo? molly, who hates computers, starting a blog?
more to come.
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