Sub

I am obsessed with the anti-emo riots in Mexico (and Peru, too, I hear?). I love goths, and of course they amazed me with their press conference.

Is subculture necessarily a pejorative word? It doesn't feel that way to me. This blog may evolve into a list of my pet topics, but here goes anyway: I love combinations of subcultures, especially ones that aren't that related. For example, Portuguese goth culture in Newark, NJ. Being a goth is about youth culture, but being Portuguese in Newark is not tied to age, and it's not exactly a choice. Of course this does not apply to the Mexican "emos" in Mexico, but it reminds me of this all the same.

I'm going to watch the footage and keep my eye on it this weekend. I have no idea what it all means. It just sounds like a Westerfeld novel, and I hope everything turns out as well as it would if it were written by him.

Misunderstood People

Currently reading:
Dracula, via Librivox, at work and while washing dishes. I thought it's be boring, but Lucy's musings on slang, alone, make it worth the time.

Grey, via free download, during lunch hours. It reminds me of Neuromancer and The Diamond Age, although not as good as either.

Queen of Fashion: What Marie Antoinette Wore to the Revolution, via the Enoch Pratt Free Library, "one of the oldest free public library systems in the United States", at home.

I'm a bit shocked that I know so little about Marie Antoinette. I'm sure I'll have more to say later, but I don't want to go too far before I've finished the book.

Excuses

So, here's why I end up not blogging on these un-restricted blogs: I can't decide on my audience, and then I get worried about coworkers, etc. reading. It happened to me before, and it was a blog they never would have stumbled upon had I not left a bookmark on my computer when I moved to NYC. It was awful to think people I was work-friends with were sort of spying me. Thinking back now, they probably didn't realize that it was so wrong. I'm sure I felt caught out there Harriet-the-Spy style for complaining about the IT guy who kept asking me out. (My replacement dated him for years after I had warned her about him.) I didn't know they were reading it until a friend with a linked blog told me about it months after I left. That was strange, too, that my ex-coworkers had been even so bored by their own lives that they read my friends' blogs.

Well, we'll see where this goes. Now I'm off to a doctor's appt. and then to meet up with a potential cat-sitter. (Just a funny note: I think it's appropriate to get the old cat puke up from under the bed in preparation for this meeting, but I'm leaving the porn in the bookcase.)

ENTP

I'm listening to the Buffy musical at work. I've just realized that I may be gravitating towards such melancholy because I have PMS. No harm in it though.

Big news! I think my next step is law school! I won't be able to enter until about a year and a half from now, so I'm just starting to work on the financial side of it. The school I'll go to if I'm still in Baltimore only allows you to work 15 hours a week your first year and 20 hours your second year. Not a lot of hours, not a lot on income, but I suppose it would/will make for a better experience.

I might win the NCAA pool at work, I'm told, and that will be my first deposit into my "Law School" savings account.

Friends with the Shift Key

Two friends have inspired me to start this up again. I'd remembered the old posts as being sort of awful, but they're not that bad, really, so I'll let them be.

E and I are going to the Virgin Islands in May for a wedding. I've been lifting weights and wondering whether we can afford two more bathing suits for me. (I can't get them from Target. Enough said on that topic.) I've also been looking for a cat sitter so Punkin can spend the week under my bed instead of in a little cage. I sometimes fear I seem some sort of cat-obsessed Quixote, but caring for Punkin isn't that bad, and the rewards are plentiful, in my opinion. And once I find a cat sitter, life can go back to normal.

It's 1:30 and I've just burned my finger on my space heater. I will go get lunch after posting this, and mail back the first disc of the first season of Dexter. Those that have known me for a long time will wonder how I can stand to watch it. (I'm scared of serial killers. Isn't everyone?) Those who know me well will recall that I can be sympathetic to vigilanteism. It's a good show. I'll let you know how my phyche reacts.