Bits

This is a little something I will like to call My Bits (not the naughty ones, gross).

These Bits will be a little note now and then on my commercial consumerist capitalist desires (as disgusting and unnecessary as they are!). I'm not a big spender, but when I see something I love, there can be a problem! Usually I am good enough to talk myself out of it until I've justified - really justified - a big purchase. But it's the little, seemingly inconsequential things that get me every time.

Well my BITS (not those ones) will now be on display for you all (awkward).
If not to just get it out of my system, than to share with you beautiful things we can materialistically consume together and feel guilty about later.

Let's put it this way.
If I had a lot of money I would do a lot of big things. Big, wonderful, mostly moral, life-changing things.
But I don't, so when I have a little bit of cash here and there, I want little bitty things.

Here's a start.
If I had a bit of extra money RIGHT NOW, I would want...
(caution: someone else's bits enclosed)

* $

The Starbucks Project

In my efforts to write a book, I have decided to do a little field work in the way of character development; The Starbucks Project. 


This is a blend of delicious beverages, comfortable seating in public spaces and my keen ability to eavesdrop like a jealous roommate and observe people from afar, making conclusions about their life based on knowing absolutely nothing of them beyond their current outfit and drink of choice, all while going unnoticed from behind my little notebook. Yes, I am creepy. Yes, I am exploiting my stalker talents for my own creative advances. Yes, it could be you, Miss Grande Non-Fat Milk Skinny Caramel Macchiato, that I'm writing about next!


As often as possible, I will visit a new Starbucks location and sit there with my little book, seek someone out with my naughty little eyes, and slander them with my presumptions about their life!


The trick will be to visit a different Starbucks each time for a change of scenery and also to broaden the scope and variety of patrons I can scheme over.


I have already written a few and I will post them in due time. Some of them are rubbish and go nowhere. Others inspire a whole series of stories. You've got to make a whole lot of rough copies before you get to something great though, right? Even some of the ones I've discarded may come back into my head with new revelations. Either way, used or discarded, it's all good practice. AND I get to creep people all day without guilt!

Fail

Well, my post TV drain day turned out just lovely. Funny what a little self-loathing (read: motivation) can do!

Now, time for a little Martha Stewart fun. Although, had I actually looked up how to do this by Martha Stewart, I probably wouldn't have spent 3 hours fixing my mistakes and throwing things at walls (read: learning creative development through overcoming obstacles). 

I present to you, the very amateur and hardly worth mentioning...

10-Step Display Board Creationism!

TVDV

You know, I can reflect and meditate and write about false idols all I want... at the end of the day I'm still gonna compare myself to others. It's a sick, sick addiction. Everyone does it, so it's cool, right? It's okay? No one's going to send me to rehab because everyone's on the same drug.

I've decided today, as I have on many other days before, that TV is the DEVIL. Not to exclude all other mass produced media because those are just as deadly but the Tev Dev is the worst. You get sucked in, you think "okay, I'm just gonna relax a for a few ticks" and then you watch and watch, things that don't even interest you, but they're on... then 3 hours later you're watching Born To Be: Kesha and comparing her success to talent ratio versus your own and slowly spiraling into despair. Why did I wake up three hours ago with big creative plans for the day and am only getting up now, slothy and unmotivated to proceed with said creativities?

Due to this totally unheard of revelation, I am sentencing myself to be extra productive today. Like, super extra. I do know that I'm better than that, and I do know that I'm capable, so I do understand that there's no reason to sit and watch the picture screen while my aspirations and self confidence sizzle into nothingness. No more TeeVeeDeeVees and no more slacking and no more "if only I..." wishes.

And by this I do solemnly swear.
Check back for updates!

Choice

Don't get me wrong, I'm so very lucky and grateful for all the choices and freedom our generation has...
But maaaaaaan, F%@# choices! This is the very root of so many of our problems. We just don't know what to do with ourselves because there's so much opportunity all around us!

I can spend 40hrs a week dedicating my heart, head and soul to a particular thing and know that, if I continue with such dedication, I will most like be successful at it. But after a couple weeks, I look to my right, and BAM! there's something else incredibly alluring that I could also be successful at.

No! I say, you will not sway me from my goal, I'm dedicated! I continue another couple weeks on my original project. All the while Mr. Alluring Side Project is hanging around, invading my personal space - so rude! I begin to question my choices, wondering if I'm really happy with this goal, and if I will really feel successful at it, as much so as I would if I took on that other sneaky little idea. Then I spend another two weeks, 40hrs a week, worrying about my choices like it's my job; toiling over my own brain, through my heart, to find a sign. A couple weeks of that and then I'm just a big ol' grumpy pants, mad at myself for wasting so much time thinking and not any time doing anything...

Are you with me?

If we lived 50 years ago, yes we would have been through harder times and missed out on all this spoiling we get. I'd probably be a housewife with 6 kids, going crazy with boredom and lack of self expression, feeling pent up and taking it out on a bottle of vodka that I keep hidden under the kitchen sink where I know my husband will never look. After a few years of internalized stress, it would start to seep out and heads would turn in the hair salon as I complained about how horrible it is to have a lovely husband who provides for me. Word would get out that I was letting my thoughts out of my little red-painted lips and I would be sent to a shrink who would tell me that my parents probably abused me as a child and I'm just crying for attention. But you know... at least I wouldn't have to make decisions for myself.

NYC

The Other New York

Alone

This is a lovely video I had saved a long time ago.
I forgot about it, and found it again today... what a nice surprise!