Wednesday, April 25, 2012

tweet: Found cat in Tortoiseshell sunglasses sipping Hefeweizen & orange with musicians next door again. Talking about King Geoffrey & demon babies

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Ever since Twitter started, I've been there. My best friend Adam was one of the first people to have a Twitter account and I joined to interact with him, and now here we are six years later. I hit my 4,000th tweet today, and I guess none of it means much of anything, but it's been good for keeping me company throughout the years and I'm thankful for that.

The 140 character limit was always an issue for me. Limitations in general can be pretty inconvenient if they're not leaning toward structure, but what can we do but embrace them? I think it started as a game, using all 140 characters when I tweeted, to see if I could do it; like a crossword, or Soduku; but now it's more of a compulsion.

"Obsessive-compulsive disorder is an anxiety disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), or behaviors that make them feel driven to do something (compulsions)."

One thing I've learned about obsessions is that they can't be neutralized; they can only be replaced. Knowing this, I'll try and channel my need for control into something else...baking? Painting? Cleaning? (My knitting skills are the pits.) And try to make my tweets more succinct in an effort rid the world of garbage.

In the meantime, SilverLake is beautiful this Spring. Young fashionistas are emerging from their cubbyholes to shine in the latest trends. Tortoiseshell glasses are supposedly making a huge comeback this year (according to the GQ Style Guide sitting on the back of my favorite toilet) so I expect to see them on everybody...and their cat, soon enough. Red pants are in this year too. Sizzzzlin'.

And from the sound of it, a group of residential musicians are putting the final tweaks on songs they'll play in venues soon. I like to pretend these guys are a well-known band getting fresh songs together for a comeback album. Then I realize by the sparse variation of notes and off-key everything that these are just kids either: following a dream or farting around, either of which I approve.

Game of Thrones...since we don't get HBO, and prefer to watch the episodes back-to-back anyway, I have no choice but to stand by and wait for the Second season to pass before I can continue to observe the drama unfolding with young King Geoffrey's merciless reign.

This means I must make an effort to avoid status updates and tweets of friends/fans eager to talk about the present goings-on of that show, but I guess it could be worse. It's not like I've read the books. I'll never have time to read all those books about sex and dragons.
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Monday, April 23, 2012

tweet: take a photo of a smiler who doesn't feel the smile. They look like they smell death don't they? It's like your camera sneezed death on them

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Supposedly, if you want to put yourself into a better mood, you can trick your real life emotions by stretching your face into a smile, whereby using less muscles to frown, yadda, yadda, but have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror doing that? Hello psychopath. I like to pride myself in thinking that I can elicit actual smiles from even the surliest people when I'm behind a camera. You can say anything from: 1, 2...fartflakes! to: Watch the birdie! And results are often good -- if you're quick. 

Yes, I'm talking about folks who take a century to press GO, and even after that the picture often comes out blurry because they're so nervous about getting it right, or just wobbly all the time, who knows. Smiles can also be borne of reflex or classical conditioning. We as people have been taught that our faces look less severe, warmer when we bear our teeth, though for some reason when animals do that, they're more on the vicious beast tip. More: I will shred you. Less: I am a warm and reasonable creature who is bursting with jolly. We say: Cheese! and instead of salivate, we expose our meat rippers and hope that our souls don't dissolve in a flash that temporarily blinds us. No wonder.
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Sunday, April 22, 2012

name change/game change

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With an ever-expanding collection of rabbit-adorned books growing on my bookshelf it was a no-brainer coming up with a new name for my blog which for the longest has been called NOTANOCTOPUS, until today. Trying to think back 4+ years ago as to why my then-self would name a blog that, I can only imagine that particular sequence of the letters created an interesting beat to me; it was fun to say not-an-oc-to-puss; it sounded Greek, whatever that means, and the word itself represented (in a deeper sense) the facade keeping an inquiring mind from the real nitty-gritty which often hides behind smile. An octopus, for instance, a majestic billowy-tentacled sea beast; they adorn everything from stationary to well-pampered earlobes after a little molding with 14K, but when you really think about it they're squishy, with eight arms and suckers and beaks, though they are known for their intelligence...honestly, I don't know where I'm going with this.

The more I think about it NOTANOCTOPUS was a great name; I'll miss it. Change is the issue here, really, and my effort to embrace it. Some old mystic on a mountaintop once said, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." But I'm sure if that mystic fell in love with and married a no-nonsense type of gal, he might change his tune to, "New curtains might be nice to accentuate the sunbeams passing through my life." And a good attitude like that is tough to disparage.
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