oh no you didn't!

I don't typically comment on current events in my blog but I had a few thoughts to share on the whole Kanye West/ Taylor Swift fiasco.

For those of you who live under a rock, what happened was that during MTV's video music awards Taylor Swift, a sweet 19 year old country singer won for having the best female video. She got up to give her acceptance speech only to have Kanye West rush the stage, grab the microphone and go on about how Beyonce (one of the other nominees in that category) really had the best video.

What Kanye did was inexcusable, we don't need to talk about that, we all agree on that.

What I was thinking though is that this is probably the best thing to ever happen to Taylor's career. Her video was actually adorable and I have been rocking out to it on YouTube for the past couple of weeks. I understand why it won. I think she is actually very talented. But I think there were a lot of people out there who didn't know who she was. Think of how many more people have watched her video now after hearing about this fiasco than would have ever watched it otherwise. And she has the sympathy of the entire nation. People are going to remember her.

The second thing I want to say about it is that a bunch of reporters were talking to the President about it and asked his opinion and Obama said that Kanye was a "jackass." I have the feeling Obama will probably take some heat for saying that, but how low does that make Kanye feel? To have people in the media talk about you being a jerk is one thing but can you imagine having the President of the United States call you a jackass? Ouch.

dreaming en francais

Can I tell you the coolest thing? I've been dreaming in French the last couple of nights.

What can I compare that to? It's like a former college basketball star who is now really out of shape who goes to shoot the ball around and who nails a couple of 3-point fade-away jump shots in a row. You think to yourself, "That's right! I've still got it!"

My French skills are obviously not as good as they were when I was actually living in France but it is nice to know that I haven't lost them completely.

The first time I ever dreamed in French was when I was living in Pau, France my freshman year of college. In the dream the other people in the dream were speaking French and I was saying "Quoi? Je ne comprends pas." What? I don't understand. Still, it was in French, and it was coming from my brain, which was awesome.

card shopping

So I stopped into my local Paper Boy the other day. As soon as I stepped inside I was greeted by a very nice young man.

Guy: Is there anything I can help you find?
Me: Nope, just looking for a card.
Guy: What kind of card?
Me: A birthday card.
Guy: For a friend? A relative?
Me: For my brother.
Guy: Older? Younger?
Me: Older. He is turning 32.
Guy: That's a good number. Is he a lumberjack?
Me: (laughing) No, he's not a lumberjack.
Guy: That's too bad. We have the perfect birthday card for a lumberjack.

So what makes this story really funny is that it turns out that the guy didn't even work there!

show off

My ego/pride is going to be the death of me.

I was out running today and was finishing it off by doing some stairs over on the sledding hill and was just about done when this couple came to run up the hill. They were very out of shape and were obviously just starting to try to get in shape. They stood at the bottom of the hill for a full minute before they started just staring at the hill as though it was their mortal enemy.

And that's when I got my second wind (or really my first wind because I was dragging ass up until this point) and starting sprinting up the stairs. Showing off. I did about twice as many sets as I usually do.

I have the feeling (especially because my legs are still shaking a little as I write this) that I am going to really regret this tomorrow.

All because I had to show off. Would have served me right if I had totally tripped while running up those stairs.

it's not the size that matters

Have you ever seen any of your old baby clothes and thought to yourself, "Did I ever really fit in that? I can't imagine myself ever having been that small!"

That's sort of how I feel when I look at my size 8 jeans.

I've been working out a ton lately but all those squats, stairs and lunges have made my ass bigger. It's stronger, tighter and firmer which is great, but it is also defintely bigger. You work out your biceps, you get bigger biceps. You work out your ass, you get a bigger ass. Not that I'm complaining... boys like a little junk in the trunk. But unless I stop working out and just starve myself, I will never be able to fit back into those jeans.

Eh. Who cares? Goodbye size 8s, may you rest in peace.

bloggers

I've gotten over my hatred of the word "blog." The word really used to bother me. Probably because it begins with the sound "blah!" I would even call this my website instead of my blog. I'm over it. I am a blogger. I blog, therefore I am.

I was reading over this woman's shoulder the other day on the el. It looked like she was doing some assigned reading for a grad school class. The article was about blogging and how bloggers are happier than non bloggers.

It made me stop and wonder if that is really true. It also made me wonder what class she was taking.

The reason bloggers were supposedly happier is that through blogging they felt more connected with the world.

I don't know about that. I think it is probably true. I guess I feel more connected with the three or four people that actually read my blog. And if I had some crazy popular blog with a huge following then I would feel more connected with the world at large.

I do know that it is therapeutic for me. Sort of like writing in a journal. And that is definitely beneficial for my mental well-being.

I kind of wish that everyone wrote a blog. I want to know all the stupid thoughts that go through people's heads.

I sat here and thought about that for a few minutes and changed my mind. Judging by some people's status updates on Facebook, i.e. "so sick and tired of the haters out there!" I probably wouldn't want to read their blog. But for most people I would like to. I guess it matters how they wrote their blog. Do they write it impersonally as if the whole world was going to read it so it must be p.c. and bland? Do they use it as a vehicle to vent about the crap that happens in their life? Or do they write it as if they really were writing in their journal? That's the stuff that I want to read.

enlightenment

I finished my book club book last night which meant that I had nothing to read during my commute on the el this morning. Well, that just wouldn't do. So I rummaged through my shelves til I found a book to read. I settled on Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse. It is one of those books that I have no desire to read but it is on a bunch of "you should read this book" lists so I figured I should.

It's about this guy who is travelling around, meets Buddha, and is looking for enlightenment basically.

The book itself isn't doing much for me yet (only on page 76) but it did cause me to have this thought:

What if homeless people, instead of sitting around with nothing to do all day and being miserable because they are starving, looked at their lives a different way? What if instead of "doing nothing" they were meditating? What if instead of "starving" they were fasting?

In that way they could be so much closer to enlightenment than the rest of us.

And yes, I do realize that if I suggested this idea to a homeless person that they would be well justified in punching me.