stalkers

Sometimes I feel like I’m being stalked, but by things, not by people.

Once, I was stalked by snakes. I would dream of snakes. I would see ordinary objects and think they were snakes. I would see real, living, snakes everywhere. I would narrowly miss hitting snakes with my car. People would come up to me and inexplicably start telling me stories about snakes.

Right now I’m being stalked to a lesser degree by French cinema, hot Orthodox Jews, and friendly, likable murderers. I have yet to see either of those two groups of people in person, but they’re on my TV, on my computer, and in my conversations. AKA everywhere.

Try not to.

Yesterday on our morning hike, my father and I began talking about primitive man, and how that lifestyle (the one we evolved to maximize) is so different from today’s. I’ve always wondered if that original way of life is the one that is best for us (and will allow us to function most efficiently)…after all, we evolved to suit it, so it makes a lot of sense. Poppi told me that there’s this kinda narcissistic guy (I don’t remember his name…but I was told he used to be a great runner?) who has written books about living in this way.

…The Primal Blueprint. This is a summary of the guidelines:

1. Eat lots of animals, insects, and plants.

2. Move around a lot at a slow pace.

3. Lift heavy things.

4. Run really fast every once in a while.

5. Get lots of sleep.

6. Play.

7. Get some sunlight every day.

8. Avoid trauma.

9. Avoid poisonous things.

10. Use your mind.

If followed, apparently (and ideally) we’d all become: healthy, energetic, happy, lean, strong, bright, and productive.

Is this common sense?

the detective

“My dear fellow,” said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, “life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generation, and leading to the most outré results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable.”

Courtesy of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle…A Case of Identity

Crush of the Week: TRAINS

Look! At how many places Amtrak goes! And I’ve only ridden a tiny stretch: Portland to Seattle and back, twice.

Trains are great because they’re not cars, so I never have to drive. You can spend hours looking out the window and fall in love with so many places (if you’re anything like me, that is). You can actually see things too–almost like you’ve been to all the places you pass through (unlike airplanes, where you’re way too far away to get a good glimpse). The downside is, train rides are gruelingly long (and if you’re frugal and it’s a long trip, you have to sleep in those undesirable chairs). And they’re expensive.

Someday, I want to take a real train trip. I’m sure it’s the type of thing you only want to do once, but a slow train trip trip alone across the country is just the kind of surreality that really attracts me. There would be times of loneliness and boredom in my solitude, I’m sure, but I’d meet some cool people, and I could do so much art and reading and writing. It’s the kind of trip you have to do alone, unless you find just the right person for it (i.e. excited about spending 40+hours straight on a train/in a chair/with you). But what an old fashioned/nostalgic/appealing/attractive way to travel.

(right up my alley)

The Longest Way 1.0 - one year walk/beard grow time lapse from Christoph Rehage on Vimeo.

(A Year of Hiking and Beard Growth)
edit: trying to figure out how to embed Vimeo

just another fan

I got what I asked for, doubled…two of my friends were up for it. I woke up at 6:45 this morning to buy tickets. I had them, I just had to fill in the credit card information. I deliberated. And then I closed all the windows: flights to Chicago, Asthmatickitty.com, terms and conditions, and the tickets themselves. I decided. I guess I can’t call myself the biggest Sufjan fan anymore. I chose $500 over two hours of Sufjan and I regret it.

But Sufjan, if you come here, I won’t.

a plea

Lately, my blog has become quite Sufjancentric, but that’s because, finally, things are happening. Sorry if you don’t care, but this is so important…
(to me)

Sufjan Stevens is going on tour.

I feel sick to my stomach right now, because it’s unlikely I’ll be able to go. All the tour locations are “east of Lake Minnetonka” which is in Minnesota, or at least 1500 miles from here. But every single concert happens before I go to Nepal…which is so tempting… Tickets go on sale tomorrow, and I’m sure they will sell out immediately. As much has I hate to admit it, there are many Sufjan-deprived people out there. All the tickets sold are will call, and you need photo ID to claim them. This is one reason why I love Asthmatic Kitty (Sufjan’s music label he created with his stepfather): they take so much care to ensure that the real fans are the ones who end up at the shows. Even though I don’t think I’ll be one of the lucky people online tomorrow buying tickets, the thought of it stresses me out…I’m shaking right now…to think of being online at the right time, but not getting a ticket would be absolutely devastating. But I can’t stop picturing myself, tomorrow, buying a ticket to a concert performed by my favorite musical artist of all time.

You know I will try to finagle my way to one of these shows, and it needs to happen today. So I ask you: is anyone willing to be my concert buddy? I need a friend on my team in order to make it work. Let’s fly to a location in the eastern part of the country (maybe one in a more random location…Champaign, IL? Bloomington, IN? Portland, ME? Pontiac, MI? whatever we can get ) and see what could be the greatest concert of your life. Check out the dates and locations on the link above. I know I can’t go on my own. I need to be there.

But if not, I can only hope that someday, Sufjan returns to California.

in-/outbox

So scratch the San Quentin bit. I thought maybe if I wrote that I’d work up a decent entry but it’s not happening. In short, I guess I’d never really considered what it would be like to be imprisoned. We rode by on the ferry and there they were in their orange jumpsuits, waving at us. I wondered how they felt, and why they were waving. Here I am, floating across the bay (soon stopping in San Francisco where I will be free to go wherever I want) and there they are, completely stuck where they are.

I am going to Nepal this fall with my father for about two months. Although we’ve been talking about it and planning for months now, it still has not hit me that we really are going. I really won’t return to Davis until Winter quarter and who knows how different I may be by then. I am so incredibly excited for this trip, but inwardly…I am unable to express it. It’s a different sort of trip, and I will be so disconnected while I’m there. I will live without internet, phone, my bed, television, any form of news, all my friends and family (except my dad), movies, recorded music, instruments and shorts. And maybe even toilet paper.

I can’t wait.

Remind me to tell you the story about the San Quentin inmates. It’s not a good one but I wanna talk it…

please stop me.