reminisce

there was a change in plans for the time i had to be ready, so i turned the music back on and started to make some lunch. i was scrolling down to stevie wonder, but mary j. blige caught my attention. the album mary circa maybe 2000? i neeeeeded to hear all that i can say.

i guess i haven’t pulled this one out in a while. it brought me directly back to another time when i lived in an apartment just down blaisdell from where i live today. i was seeing this guy benny from rudolphs. i had had a crush on him for 6 months and finally he asked me to go out. on a walk around lake of the isles he confessed his feelings for me. it was a huge dilemma at the time. i was heavily involved in church and was super into the idea of serious, intentional dating. i felt like dating benny would be cheating God’s plan for me or something. it made total sense at the time but seems so far away now. i did date benny. and back when i listened to this album getting ready to meet jen and marissa to go dance salsa at first ave, i would get very emotional, a faraway look in my eyes i’m sure, and revel in these new feelings. i think benny was the first boy i ever loved. but the love seems so strange now. i didn’t know that guy.

it’s amazing how a person changes and grows. i love thinking back on that innocence, the dilemmas i faced, how i thought i knew who i was. i’m thankful for the clarity as i get older, the sinking more fully into my skin.

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soul suckin jerk

i’ve been recently revisiting mellow gold. though i’m repeatedly surprised at the amount of gems on this 15+ yr old record that most people only previously owned for loser, and then sold back to cheapo… i have to pay homage to the genius of soul suckin jerk. when i haven’t heard it for a long time, it almost makes me lose control of all my bodily functions. and if you don’t know me that means its super genius a la the art professor on 6 feet under that talks about how something that’s truly fantastic makes you want to vomit.

city snob

and i won’t apologize for it.

i was coming home from kickball the other night. it was held in a field in “bloomington” only this was a deeper part of bloomington than i’d ever known. my aunt’s family lived in the normal, acceptable part of bloomington while i was growing up – close to 494 and portland/12th avenue. i think that borderline acceptable suburbs have street names i can follow – they’re in numerical or alphabetical order (sorry st. paul and even you northeast) like my sweet, logical minnapolis.

got a little off track there. but the sheer amount of time it took me to get home from this field in the middle of bumblefuck bloomington just made me shake my head. who chooses to live there? i just don’t understand. peace and quiet? safety? i can grasp some of the logical reasoning but in a completely ethnocentric way… i think it’s stupid.

on this particular drive home, i actually became filled with glee as i neared the 394 exits to mpls. when you’re that far out and on the highway, sometimes you start to wonder if you’re lost because there’s just nothing there. stretches of road with nothing. not even pretty farmland. just that in between suburbs nothing. ish.

i lived in richfield for a year and a half, on 73rd and sheridan. it was a nice house. i enjoyed the big yard somewhat; my mom bought me nice patio furniture and it always seemed like it should be so relaxing to go spend time out there, but i always felt on display and uncomfortable. which is a suburban feeling to me. the proper way to have a place like that is to have your yard fenced off (preferably with a privacy fence) so you’re completely closed off from the prying eyes of others and in you can enjoy your peace and quiet alone. anyways, there were definitely things i enjoyed about being there, i always replied “it’s… nice… ” when people asked how i liked it.

but the amount of space, the quiet, the keep-to-yourself attitudes… this will never compare to the way i feel around the color and lights and activity and life i feel in the city. no peace and quiet, no cookie cutter strip mall, no local starbucks will ever pacify me into appreciating that other life. i will take the noise and the old falling apart structures amid new construction and people who talk to you amid strong and rich history and parks that look normal and lived in amid all kinds of people any day.

f you burbs!

love, city snob