As I continue on this unusual journey towards enlightenment, self-actualization, and adulthood, I'm reaching certain crossroads, some bigger than others, but they all seem to be important.
I recently reached a very uncomfortable one. One, which I knew was coming, but I knew I wouldn't be prepared for once it arrived. The crossroads I recently stood at, is where I was forced to decide whether I want to be a part of the underground world, or mainstream society.
As you may or may not know, I've spent the last three years of my life documenting the ins and outs of the St. Louis Underground Scene. Raves, clubs, and warehouse parties have typically been a part of my weekly agenda. These events however, happen to be things that have quite the negative connotation associated with them in mainstream society.
Despite my best efforts in trying to make it seem harmless to my friends on the outside, I have still been ostracized for years because of what I do. Said ostracism has always fallen by the waist side to me, because for the longest time, the scene has been an escape for me. A nice big warehouse party, with a couple of hundred people, loud music, and fire spinning, has always seemed like a good way to spend my time outside of a stressful class environment.
As my life has moved forward though, the bright colors of kandi, glow sticks, and light systems have started to fade. That beautiful underground world, that had me so enamored for years, started to become far less beautiful, and far less intriguing than it once was.
At the same time, my mainstream life was demanding that I walk away from the underground life entirely. I told my mainstream life to fuck off, time and time again, putting off the inevitable I guess. However, as the underworld grew darker and darker, reality began to set in. Friends who I once relied on and trusted began to disappear. I began to view the world in such a cynical, jaded manner, and I found I was starting to loathe people in general.
So now, here I stood, at the crossroads forced to pick either normal life, or marching to the beat of my own drum.
To take the mainstream path, I finish graduate school, then get a Ph.D, then spend a reputable 25 years teaching philosophy at a college somewhere, with 2.5 kids, a husband and a white picket fence.
To take the underground path, I could potentially spend my life, outcasted from normal society, involved with non trustworthy people, and going through everyday life cynically.
I stood at the crossroads thinking my choices over for months. However, it wasn't until today, when the final nail was laid into the coffin of my underground life, that I made my decision to walk away.
Three years of friendship to someone, and it all came undone in one moment. In five words, a tightly bound relationship crumbled like a 1,000 year old statue.
Needless to say, I've chosen the mainstream. I mean, after all, I'm just another Jewish girl from the suburbs. Three years, shooting parties every weekend, having to play Ms. Social Butterfly, has been exhausting.
In a span of three years I captured Shpongle, The Glitch Mob, Eoto, Dara, Mimosa, Hatirus, Nine Inch Nails, and last but not least, every single St. Louis based DJ.
I've had a good run, and its certainly a time in my life I will never forget, but its a phase that has passed.
Peace, love and happiness to all.
-Rue
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Ever Evolving Kanga Rue
Recently, a friendship I had cared for dearly, ended abruptly. I was beside myself for sometime, I found myself dwelling on the sadness, and I couldn't seem get this person off my mind. However, as time moved on, and as the wounds began to heal, I started to discover all of the good things that came from that friendship. I had made several new friends, who now I hold near and dear. I had discovered new poi techniques, and new ways to love my fire. Last but not least, I had learned to never apologize for how you feel.
On another related note, my journey into the world of Buddhism, has been interesting, but it has certainly not been an easy one. I, a judgemental, crass, cynical person, has to learn to not be judgemental at all, and to just go with the flow.
For those who know me, they know how hard this is. I've spent years, writing on, commenting on, and judging the actions of others. Not just because I'm a cynic, but because I am a control freak. Which primarily led to the end of said friendship.
This week's lecture after meditation was about letting go, and going with the flow. Learning to not be controlling and judgemental is no easy task when its been your primary mentality for 20 years.
However, as I chanted, and as I fell into my zen, I didn't exactly find that go with the flow mentality I was looking for but I found something else. My former friend kept popping into my head, and the more I tried to think of other things the more he came back. I then found myself with an extreme desire to thank him.
My judgemental mind snapped back into play, and promptly replied "fuck no."
I breathed deeper, and thought harder, and realized I did need to thank this person.
I now had new friends, new techniques, and a new understanding for my feelings, all because of him. "Wow, this douche bag, actually had a positive effect on my life, damn."
A few days later, I found myself in quite the precarious situation. I was presented with an opportunity to get revenge on said friend, for all of the hateful things that had been said. It was a comical, yet well constructed plan to embarrass this person publicly, and break down his ego.
I passed it up. I said no. I turned the opportunity down.
Even as recent as six months ago, I would of jumped on that opportunity and embarrassed the fuck outta him. However, standing now, on the road to actualization and happiness, and cannot in good conscience, put a good hearted person, who has brought many good things into my life, in the path of pain or humiliation.
So, to FrenchasaurousRex, I thank you. I'm less of a bitch now because of you.
-Rue
On another related note, my journey into the world of Buddhism, has been interesting, but it has certainly not been an easy one. I, a judgemental, crass, cynical person, has to learn to not be judgemental at all, and to just go with the flow.
For those who know me, they know how hard this is. I've spent years, writing on, commenting on, and judging the actions of others. Not just because I'm a cynic, but because I am a control freak. Which primarily led to the end of said friendship.
This week's lecture after meditation was about letting go, and going with the flow. Learning to not be controlling and judgemental is no easy task when its been your primary mentality for 20 years.
However, as I chanted, and as I fell into my zen, I didn't exactly find that go with the flow mentality I was looking for but I found something else. My former friend kept popping into my head, and the more I tried to think of other things the more he came back. I then found myself with an extreme desire to thank him.
My judgemental mind snapped back into play, and promptly replied "fuck no."
I breathed deeper, and thought harder, and realized I did need to thank this person.
I now had new friends, new techniques, and a new understanding for my feelings, all because of him. "Wow, this douche bag, actually had a positive effect on my life, damn."
A few days later, I found myself in quite the precarious situation. I was presented with an opportunity to get revenge on said friend, for all of the hateful things that had been said. It was a comical, yet well constructed plan to embarrass this person publicly, and break down his ego.
I passed it up. I said no. I turned the opportunity down.
Even as recent as six months ago, I would of jumped on that opportunity and embarrassed the fuck outta him. However, standing now, on the road to actualization and happiness, and cannot in good conscience, put a good hearted person, who has brought many good things into my life, in the path of pain or humiliation.
So, to FrenchasaurousRex, I thank you. I'm less of a bitch now because of you.
-Rue
Thursday, September 16, 2010
I am
Many of you who know me personally or follow me on facebook/twitter are aware that I am on a journey to find myself and find my zen. Everyone else in this world seems to have a happy place where their minds go to when they get depressed or when the shit hits the fan. I've never really been able to find that. I've never had a happy place.
My life has taken several serious downturns in the past year, and through them all, I have been agitated, irritated, exhausted, and down right miserable. As to be expected. However, I recently found myself unable to come out of the misery, so I began this particular journey. While doing some serious self examination I realized that I am physically able to calm myself, physically able to get the pain out of my mind, but not independently. It requires a xanax, or a glass of wine, a pack of cigs, or a snot bubbling cry session with a friend. Some people think that its normal and its ok to require help to pull you out of a slump. I however want to be able to do it myself. I want to be able to count to ten, and be 100% relaxed. Be calm and collected and be able to look at my problems with a clear mind, and find a clear solution.
In speaking with a highly regarded Monk in my community named Ashiri, he simply said I was crazy. To quote him exactly, "you are far to young to understand pain, suffering, and solutions to these problems, stop worrying and just survive."
To this I responded with. No, I don't want to just survive. Happiness exists for a reason, and I want a happy life. He then proceeded to tell me that to find that calm, cool, and collected state of mind I would have to achieve self-actualization, something that takes decades for even the most grounded and sound minds to achieve.
I've always loved a good challenge.
Ashiri made it very clear that the road to zen and self-actualization is a long one, and he suggested that I start with small, simple exercises. Carry a small journal with me everyday and write down what I'm feeling at my happiest point of the day, and what I'm feeling at my most miserable point. In addition, on a regular basis, as a grow and mature, get into a deep state of meditation and judge myself. Relax, and then sit in front of the mirror, and pick out ten pros and ten cons about myself.
I left Ashiri and headed home to try both of these things out. I found an old journal, one I originally planned on using for autographs from various idols, but was primarily collecting dust on my bookcase. Beautifully enough, the journal has the autograph of Arun Gandhi.
First- my happiest point of this past Tuesday- didgeridoo lessons with Ally.
Second- my worst point of this past Tuesday-scaring myself half to death for an exam that was only ten simple questions.
Moving onto my second exercise, I put myself into a very relaxed state of meditation, sat in front on my vanity mirror and judged myself. Not too harshly, and not to leniently.
I am loud.
I am intelligent and well spoken.
I am young and naive.
I am willing to do anything for those I love.
I am hyperactive. All the time.
I am ambitious.
I am obnoxious.
I am an artist.
I am a control freak and I read to much into things.
I am beautiful and sexy just the way I am.
I am unable to understand human emotion.
I am one seriously funny mother fucker.
I am angry.
I am very, very driven to succeed.
I am irritated by people.
I am a born performer, and I will always be able to get a crowds attention.
I am emotionally immature.
I am well traveled and versed in the ways of the world.
I am scared.
I am growing.
With these two exercises, I found myself having real feelings of self-respect and self appreciation for the first time. Even though I am growing and evolving as a person every single day, this is who I am right now, and I like who I am. Finally I'm happy with who I am.
My life has taken several serious downturns in the past year, and through them all, I have been agitated, irritated, exhausted, and down right miserable. As to be expected. However, I recently found myself unable to come out of the misery, so I began this particular journey. While doing some serious self examination I realized that I am physically able to calm myself, physically able to get the pain out of my mind, but not independently. It requires a xanax, or a glass of wine, a pack of cigs, or a snot bubbling cry session with a friend. Some people think that its normal and its ok to require help to pull you out of a slump. I however want to be able to do it myself. I want to be able to count to ten, and be 100% relaxed. Be calm and collected and be able to look at my problems with a clear mind, and find a clear solution.
In speaking with a highly regarded Monk in my community named Ashiri, he simply said I was crazy. To quote him exactly, "you are far to young to understand pain, suffering, and solutions to these problems, stop worrying and just survive."
To this I responded with. No, I don't want to just survive. Happiness exists for a reason, and I want a happy life. He then proceeded to tell me that to find that calm, cool, and collected state of mind I would have to achieve self-actualization, something that takes decades for even the most grounded and sound minds to achieve.
I've always loved a good challenge.
Ashiri made it very clear that the road to zen and self-actualization is a long one, and he suggested that I start with small, simple exercises. Carry a small journal with me everyday and write down what I'm feeling at my happiest point of the day, and what I'm feeling at my most miserable point. In addition, on a regular basis, as a grow and mature, get into a deep state of meditation and judge myself. Relax, and then sit in front of the mirror, and pick out ten pros and ten cons about myself.
I left Ashiri and headed home to try both of these things out. I found an old journal, one I originally planned on using for autographs from various idols, but was primarily collecting dust on my bookcase. Beautifully enough, the journal has the autograph of Arun Gandhi.
First- my happiest point of this past Tuesday- didgeridoo lessons with Ally.
Second- my worst point of this past Tuesday-scaring myself half to death for an exam that was only ten simple questions.
Moving onto my second exercise, I put myself into a very relaxed state of meditation, sat in front on my vanity mirror and judged myself. Not too harshly, and not to leniently.
I am loud.
I am intelligent and well spoken.
I am young and naive.
I am willing to do anything for those I love.
I am hyperactive. All the time.
I am ambitious.
I am obnoxious.
I am an artist.
I am a control freak and I read to much into things.
I am beautiful and sexy just the way I am.
I am unable to understand human emotion.
I am one seriously funny mother fucker.
I am angry.
I am very, very driven to succeed.
I am irritated by people.
I am a born performer, and I will always be able to get a crowds attention.
I am emotionally immature.
I am well traveled and versed in the ways of the world.
I am scared.
I am growing.
With these two exercises, I found myself having real feelings of self-respect and self appreciation for the first time. Even though I am growing and evolving as a person every single day, this is who I am right now, and I like who I am. Finally I'm happy with who I am.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
International Moron Day...Why are stupid people still on TV?
This morning I awoke from a miserable incomplete slumber, threw on some clothes, got my coffee and sat down in front of the t.v to watch the news. To my dismay, the lead story was not, the stupidity of American children, or the conflicts in the Sudan, or even that there is still immense amounts of oil in the gulf. No, those were not what CNN felt were stories worth running. What they did feel was worth running however happened to be one of the most disgusting stories I've seen in a long time.
International Burn A Koran Day: 9/11/2010
I don't think, at any point in my life, despite all of my adventures, I have ever heard something that stupid before.
There is now going to be an internationally recognized day for Koran burning.
Wow. Fucking wow.
Those who know me, are aware that I am not the biggest fan or religion. As a matter of fact, I happen to hate most organized religions, simply because I believe in science and facts. However I find it beautifully ironic that we, well not we, Matt Stone and Trey Parker, cannot show and image of Mohamed in an episode of South Park, however CNN can put Terry Jones, a bigot, a terrorist, and a moron on television. Go figure.
Why are extremist the only ones that ever make it to CNN? Why do the Terry Jones's of the world get to speak up and have an opinion for everyone else? He is a stupid, stupid man. LOOK-
Seriously, all of you. Christians, Muslims, Jews, listen to me now. TAKE YOUR STUPID FOLLOWERS OFF THE TELEVISION, THEY ARE GIVING YOU A BAD NAME.
Don't you understand? This is why the world hates us. Listen to me, I've traveled far and wide, and I understand the international opinion of Americans. Just so you all know, they hate us. Stop living in wonderland and start living in reality. Americans aren't subjected to terrorism because other nations are jealous of our freedom, or because other nations hate our culture. Americans are subjected to it because we as a nation allow the stupid to run free and rampant. This stupidity is like a disease and its needs to be cured.
I know many, many Christians, Muslims, and Jews who are wonderful people with good hearts and good minds. They value their faith for what it is. A chance to be closer to their god and better themselves and the people around them as human beings. That is what religion is supposed to be about. Faith is not about propaganda, terrorism, or money. Religion is. The two are not meant to be separate, but intertwined. Why is there the separation? That old saying off talking the talk, and not walking the walk really comes into play here. Terry Jones doesn't represent the views of every Christian in American, as a matter of fact, due to the riots and danger his little Koran burning stunt has put our troops in, I imagine most Americans dislike him considerably. Regardless, he was still the lead story on the news.
Most of my devout Christian friends who I discussed this issue with are just as disgusted as I am. These people aren't practicing a religion, they are preparing for the stupidity Olympics.
Terry Jones is happens to be the pastor running the church that is holding this ceremony and as the first amendment states, you have the right to freedom of speech, religion, assembly, and petition. It is his right, and the right of his followers to burn whatever they wish, however, as a human being how can you, not a god, nor an omnipotent being, look at a text and say it has no right to exist? Say that it must be burned? I understand how unsettling the burning of bibles and American flags can be for people when they see footage of Islamic fundamentalist rioting in the streets. However, the street cuts both ways. Not all Muslims are tourist, not all of them hate America. I have several friends who are soldiers and have returned home with the news that many Iraqis as well as Afghani's were pleased to see Americans. Displeased with the methods of entry and war no doubt, but pleased for any help that could be offered.
At the end of the day, I guess what it comes down to is simply this, CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, you suck. You put stupid people on the air to get ratings, and attention from people everywhere. You have no idea the ramifications of these actions though. The rest of the world believes that all Americans are like this.
People in Afghanistan are rioting RIGHT NOW because of this. Stop running bullshit stories like this, start interviewing, oh I don't know, intelligent people, and see what happens. I imagine that the hatred of the American people would probably go down. I may be wrong, but I doubt it.
Many of Jone's supporters believe that they have powerful blind faith. You do not have that at all. What you do have is blind hatred for what is different from you.
Hatred is not an opinion. Hatred is stupidity. Hatred is useless, and it will get you no where.
International Burn A Koran Day: 9/11/2010
I don't think, at any point in my life, despite all of my adventures, I have ever heard something that stupid before.
There is now going to be an internationally recognized day for Koran burning.
Wow. Fucking wow.
Those who know me, are aware that I am not the biggest fan or religion. As a matter of fact, I happen to hate most organized religions, simply because I believe in science and facts. However I find it beautifully ironic that we, well not we, Matt Stone and Trey Parker, cannot show and image of Mohamed in an episode of South Park, however CNN can put Terry Jones, a bigot, a terrorist, and a moron on television. Go figure.
Why are extremist the only ones that ever make it to CNN? Why do the Terry Jones's of the world get to speak up and have an opinion for everyone else? He is a stupid, stupid man. LOOK-
Seriously, all of you. Christians, Muslims, Jews, listen to me now. TAKE YOUR STUPID FOLLOWERS OFF THE TELEVISION, THEY ARE GIVING YOU A BAD NAME.
Don't you understand? This is why the world hates us. Listen to me, I've traveled far and wide, and I understand the international opinion of Americans. Just so you all know, they hate us. Stop living in wonderland and start living in reality. Americans aren't subjected to terrorism because other nations are jealous of our freedom, or because other nations hate our culture. Americans are subjected to it because we as a nation allow the stupid to run free and rampant. This stupidity is like a disease and its needs to be cured.
I know many, many Christians, Muslims, and Jews who are wonderful people with good hearts and good minds. They value their faith for what it is. A chance to be closer to their god and better themselves and the people around them as human beings. That is what religion is supposed to be about. Faith is not about propaganda, terrorism, or money. Religion is. The two are not meant to be separate, but intertwined. Why is there the separation? That old saying off talking the talk, and not walking the walk really comes into play here. Terry Jones doesn't represent the views of every Christian in American, as a matter of fact, due to the riots and danger his little Koran burning stunt has put our troops in, I imagine most Americans dislike him considerably. Regardless, he was still the lead story on the news.
Most of my devout Christian friends who I discussed this issue with are just as disgusted as I am. These people aren't practicing a religion, they are preparing for the stupidity Olympics.
Terry Jones is happens to be the pastor running the church that is holding this ceremony and as the first amendment states, you have the right to freedom of speech, religion, assembly, and petition. It is his right, and the right of his followers to burn whatever they wish, however, as a human being how can you, not a god, nor an omnipotent being, look at a text and say it has no right to exist? Say that it must be burned? I understand how unsettling the burning of bibles and American flags can be for people when they see footage of Islamic fundamentalist rioting in the streets. However, the street cuts both ways. Not all Muslims are tourist, not all of them hate America. I have several friends who are soldiers and have returned home with the news that many Iraqis as well as Afghani's were pleased to see Americans. Displeased with the methods of entry and war no doubt, but pleased for any help that could be offered.
At the end of the day, I guess what it comes down to is simply this, CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, you suck. You put stupid people on the air to get ratings, and attention from people everywhere. You have no idea the ramifications of these actions though. The rest of the world believes that all Americans are like this.
People in Afghanistan are rioting RIGHT NOW because of this. Stop running bullshit stories like this, start interviewing, oh I don't know, intelligent people, and see what happens. I imagine that the hatred of the American people would probably go down. I may be wrong, but I doubt it.
Many of Jone's supporters believe that they have powerful blind faith. You do not have that at all. What you do have is blind hatred for what is different from you.
Hatred is not an opinion. Hatred is stupidity. Hatred is useless, and it will get you no where.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The Meaning of Life....or something like that..
Recently, it was brought to my attention that I didn't really know who I was. I thought to myself, of course I know who I am. I'm Sarah Rue. Kanga Rue to many. I take pictures, I make art, I write about my observations of society. At first I thought, what are my friends crazy? Do they not know who I am?
This got me thinking, who I am, who I consider myself to be is just a name and a profession. Well, I must be more than that. I'm not just Sarah Rue the photographer. There has got to be more substance to me than that. I thought, long and hard about what else I was comprised of. I quickly came to the realization that the other things that I was made of, were things I couldn't stand about myself. Low-self esteem, a control freak mentality, a desire to please everyone around me, regardless of what it means to me. Despite excelling in college considerably, I find myself with no real direction, and only staying in school to please my family and kill time until I figure out what to do.
I then began to have somewhat of an existential crisis, wonder who the hell I really was? Where am I going in my life? What am I going to do? How am I going to make a difference?
These questions have kept me up for the past few days. Me being me, I made lists. Lots and lots of lists. About all sorts of things, my life experiences, my friends, my poisonous relationships, everything. I quickly discovered that of all of my memories, of all of the life I've lived, none of it seemed that important. None of it really seemed that memorable. I've traveled far and wide across the world, and seen many things that most people will never even know exist.
This disapproval, and unhappiness I was feeling made me feel the worst case of Catholic/Jewish guilt I'd ever felt. I started feeling guilt for not being happy with my life. Thinking, well, there are millions of displaced men, women, and children in Pakistan, living on single grains of rice and contaminated water, why am I feeling such discontent? I should be grateful.
Side not here- my multi-religion upbringing was a wonderful thing that has left me with a level of respect for all faiths, but a guilt complex like something fierce.
Once I rationalized my guilt away, I started to think about my religious roots, and maybe the solution to this unhappiness would be to go back to that. I promptly remembered that to be religious and function in modern day American society, you cannot be; a woman, a homosexual, or someone who thinks freely in any manner. Clearly, I ruled church out quickly. And as quickly as I ruled it out, the guilt returned.
I then had one of those epic, fuck off moments, where I simply said to myself, I'm not living desperately in Pakistan. I'm living in modern, wealthy suburban St. Louis. I've lived a life full of travel, education, and a vast array of people. These are the cards I've been dealt. Clearly, I am here for a reason. No point in feeling guilt for living the life I was given. Suddenly the guilt faded away. I felt somewhat of a weight lifted off my shoulders. But like acid reflux, I knew at some point this guilt would return, so I best find a way to destroy it before it comes back.
Somethings got to change. RIGHT NOW.
So instead of falling into hysterics about the meaning of my life and my purpose, after rationalizing things out, I did something out of the ordinary for me, I sat down, shut my phone off, and read.
I read Alfred Lord Tennyson's Tithonus. A poem and an author I doubt any of you have ever heard of, but an author that I have always considered a hero. The ultimate hippie. I'm very familiar with his literature, because for the first fifteen years of my life, I had no friends, only books. I spent the next few hours tearing my books shelves apart, reading through 116 different books. Not necessarily looking for an answer to my questions, but looking for a way to calm myself into zen.
I found it.
My zen, became my books. My zen is literature. First problem has been solved, I now know how to get rid of the guilt that has plagued me for years. The main questions still have yet to be answered, however I doubt that they will be answered easily. It will probably take years, or even decades. First plan of action, get the fuck away from everything and everyone. Having other peoples opinions, with the exception of the ones I care about, in my life are beyond detrimental. I don't need to know what a eighteen year old raver girl who I met once at a party thinks of me. My friends who understand what it means that I tore apart my bookshelves looking for zen, their opinions I care for.
In short, I feel its time to return into my shell, that bubble I was in for the first fifteen years of my life, until I can find the answers I am looking for. I suggest, if you feel the type of unhappiness and discontent I'm feeling you do the same.
I send peace, love and good vibes to all of you.
This got me thinking, who I am, who I consider myself to be is just a name and a profession. Well, I must be more than that. I'm not just Sarah Rue the photographer. There has got to be more substance to me than that. I thought, long and hard about what else I was comprised of. I quickly came to the realization that the other things that I was made of, were things I couldn't stand about myself. Low-self esteem, a control freak mentality, a desire to please everyone around me, regardless of what it means to me. Despite excelling in college considerably, I find myself with no real direction, and only staying in school to please my family and kill time until I figure out what to do.
I then began to have somewhat of an existential crisis, wonder who the hell I really was? Where am I going in my life? What am I going to do? How am I going to make a difference?
These questions have kept me up for the past few days. Me being me, I made lists. Lots and lots of lists. About all sorts of things, my life experiences, my friends, my poisonous relationships, everything. I quickly discovered that of all of my memories, of all of the life I've lived, none of it seemed that important. None of it really seemed that memorable. I've traveled far and wide across the world, and seen many things that most people will never even know exist.
This disapproval, and unhappiness I was feeling made me feel the worst case of Catholic/Jewish guilt I'd ever felt. I started feeling guilt for not being happy with my life. Thinking, well, there are millions of displaced men, women, and children in Pakistan, living on single grains of rice and contaminated water, why am I feeling such discontent? I should be grateful.
Side not here- my multi-religion upbringing was a wonderful thing that has left me with a level of respect for all faiths, but a guilt complex like something fierce.
Once I rationalized my guilt away, I started to think about my religious roots, and maybe the solution to this unhappiness would be to go back to that. I promptly remembered that to be religious and function in modern day American society, you cannot be; a woman, a homosexual, or someone who thinks freely in any manner. Clearly, I ruled church out quickly. And as quickly as I ruled it out, the guilt returned.
I then had one of those epic, fuck off moments, where I simply said to myself, I'm not living desperately in Pakistan. I'm living in modern, wealthy suburban St. Louis. I've lived a life full of travel, education, and a vast array of people. These are the cards I've been dealt. Clearly, I am here for a reason. No point in feeling guilt for living the life I was given. Suddenly the guilt faded away. I felt somewhat of a weight lifted off my shoulders. But like acid reflux, I knew at some point this guilt would return, so I best find a way to destroy it before it comes back.
Somethings got to change. RIGHT NOW.
So instead of falling into hysterics about the meaning of my life and my purpose, after rationalizing things out, I did something out of the ordinary for me, I sat down, shut my phone off, and read.
I read Alfred Lord Tennyson's Tithonus. A poem and an author I doubt any of you have ever heard of, but an author that I have always considered a hero. The ultimate hippie. I'm very familiar with his literature, because for the first fifteen years of my life, I had no friends, only books. I spent the next few hours tearing my books shelves apart, reading through 116 different books. Not necessarily looking for an answer to my questions, but looking for a way to calm myself into zen.
I found it.
My zen, became my books. My zen is literature. First problem has been solved, I now know how to get rid of the guilt that has plagued me for years. The main questions still have yet to be answered, however I doubt that they will be answered easily. It will probably take years, or even decades. First plan of action, get the fuck away from everything and everyone. Having other peoples opinions, with the exception of the ones I care about, in my life are beyond detrimental. I don't need to know what a eighteen year old raver girl who I met once at a party thinks of me. My friends who understand what it means that I tore apart my bookshelves looking for zen, their opinions I care for.
In short, I feel its time to return into my shell, that bubble I was in for the first fifteen years of my life, until I can find the answers I am looking for. I suggest, if you feel the type of unhappiness and discontent I'm feeling you do the same.
I send peace, love and good vibes to all of you.
Friday, August 20, 2010
The Many Faces of Rave
As you may or may not know, I am a raver. I am not a drug addict. I am not a dj. I am not a social reject. I am a raver. I assure you, there are differences. The term Rave has various negative connotations surrounding it. People believe that everything from orgies, million dollar drug deals, and murders occur at raves. Those people are what I like to call stupid. I believe that everything from lynching, gassing of people, and extreme greediness occurs at Church. Some people call me stupid. To that, I hold up my score from my MENSA exam.
Never the less, for the better part of the past two decades, St. Louis has had a booming underground scene, full of many various characters, all with unique personalities of their own. I literally know thousands of people. Thousand of different, unique people, that have left me with an interesting question I ask myself every day; What is normal?
I regularly have to edit my Facebook friends list because there are so many friends, that I just don't know, or that I met once at a party months ago. I have my own special role in the scene, I'm the photographer. I'm the one who is supposed to capture all of these epic memories. I use the term epic loosely, because not every party is epic, as a matter of fact, many aren't. But the one thing that never fails, is the people. The people of this underground scene, are astounding, and not at all like you would imagine them to be.
The Ragers
Alias's: Rage Mob, Kandi Kids, E-Tards
Age range: 18-21
Level Of Experience:None
Reason for Raving: The music and the memories
This will always be your most colorful group of characters at any given party. They are young, impressionable, and so excited just to be socially active. They tend to wear colorful, puff paint style, kandi covered outfits, that typically they make themselves. The Ragers are hands down the most upbeat of all participants in this crazy thing we call our scene. Young, and in some cases naive, these are usually the glass is half full kids, that genuinely want to party for the music. Other motives do come into play occasionally, rebellion, drug exploration, sex, but primarily music is this motive for this particular group of people.
The Evolving
Alias's: The Newly Jaded, Old Busta's, The Little Kids.
Age Range: 22-25
Level of Experience: Considerable
Reason for Raving: To many friends that still go to parties, and a desperate desire to recapture old memories.
The Evolving is a group of ravers that are, to be quite honest, assholes. They complain a lot about how they hate the city and the scene, however you will find them complaining while in attendance of a party. They are in an awkward stage in life, fighting maturity and adulthood tooth and nail, and pining to go back to the days when they could party endless without real world responsibilities. Sadly those days are over, and now its time to be an adult. This brings about an interesting question for many of The Evolving, can I make money off of the scene? The answer to that question is very loaded, and too long to go into now, but in short, No, you cannot. VERY, very, FEW, people can make money off any underground rave scene. Extremely talented promoters and DJ's on occasion can live off their earnings from partying, however most chose to have real jobs so the extra income can be that much more enjoyable. However, this question leads many to explore new talents, such as dj-ing, dancing, and in some cases even fire performing. This desire to make some moola from partying allows for some amazing talents to come out and be showcased at said parties, and in the end allows for this particular group of people to grow as human beings. Asshole may be a strong word for The Evolving, most of you are pretty cool, with your super awesome dj jams and your fire poi, you're just in the teething stage of raving, so you're very....whiny. I promise, it gets better.
The Jaded
Alias's: Dennys Syndrome, again Old Busta's, Burnouts.
Age Range: 28-50
Level of Experience: Highly Experienced, and burnt out
Reason for Raving: Being old enough to make fun of everyone else.
After you party hard as a teenager, and after you've done your bitching as a young adult, you are employed, committed, and mortgaged out. You have to deal with the responsibilities and pains of the real world and real life, so you deserve a good time. The Jaded have the right and ability to walk up to any DJ and ask for a song. It could be Bassnectar himself, and if a Jaded raver wanted him to play Sandstorm, he would play it. The Jaded tend to be more involved with the scene, throwing parties, mixing music, and promoting shows. They have buried their fair share of friends, due to various reasons, dealt with the bullshit of thousands of people, and seen enough temper tantrums to last a lifetime. Jaded is the only term that can be used. Still, this jadedness allows for for this particular group of people to be full of wisdom, humor, plenty of horror stories, making them a vital group of people to surround yourself with.
Last but not least,
The Worker Bees
Alias's: Promoters, Designers, Girlfriends, Photographer, DJ's, Booking Agents, Managers, and any other official names you can think of.
Age Range: Across the fucking board.
Level of Experience: Highly Experienced.
Reason for Raving: Income, Social Notoriety.
The Worker Bees are the only reason the scene exists. End of story. Oh yes, there is the music, and sure that's a reason. But if The Worker Bees didn't put these shows together, they wouldn't exists, and you would be spending your Saturday nights watching Wheel of Fortune with your parents, wondering why you haven't killed yourself yet. They have a rather objective view of things, and know that every party needs to be on par, no matter the cost. Driving DJ's around, kissing their asses, being there for their every beck and call are just a few of the duties this particular group has to deal with. However, despite the bullshit, at the end of the night, when The Ragers, The Evolving, and The Jaded walk up to you, and say "Good Job", its worth it.
All of that being said, I hope any close minded views you may have regarding Ravers have been somewhat disbanded. I'm pleased to say that for the past three years, I have been surrounded by mixes of all of these people. However, there is something I should probably tell you.
WARNING: SURROUNDING YOURSELF WITH ANYONE WHO RAGES, EVOLVES, OR IS JADED MAY LEAD YOU TO AN UN-NATURAL LOVE OF ELECTRONIC DANCE MUSIC, DANCING BADLY OR IN A PROFANE MANNER, AND HIPPIES. WORST OF ALL, HIPPIES. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Now, how about you come party with me? Maybe you can tell me what normal is.
-Rue
Never the less, for the better part of the past two decades, St. Louis has had a booming underground scene, full of many various characters, all with unique personalities of their own. I literally know thousands of people. Thousand of different, unique people, that have left me with an interesting question I ask myself every day; What is normal?
I regularly have to edit my Facebook friends list because there are so many friends, that I just don't know, or that I met once at a party months ago. I have my own special role in the scene, I'm the photographer. I'm the one who is supposed to capture all of these epic memories. I use the term epic loosely, because not every party is epic, as a matter of fact, many aren't. But the one thing that never fails, is the people. The people of this underground scene, are astounding, and not at all like you would imagine them to be.
The Ragers
Alias's: Rage Mob, Kandi Kids, E-Tards
Age range: 18-21
Level Of Experience:None
Reason for Raving: The music and the memories
This will always be your most colorful group of characters at any given party. They are young, impressionable, and so excited just to be socially active. They tend to wear colorful, puff paint style, kandi covered outfits, that typically they make themselves. The Ragers are hands down the most upbeat of all participants in this crazy thing we call our scene. Young, and in some cases naive, these are usually the glass is half full kids, that genuinely want to party for the music. Other motives do come into play occasionally, rebellion, drug exploration, sex, but primarily music is this motive for this particular group of people.
The Evolving
Alias's: The Newly Jaded, Old Busta's, The Little Kids.
Age Range: 22-25
Level of Experience: Considerable
Reason for Raving: To many friends that still go to parties, and a desperate desire to recapture old memories.
The Evolving is a group of ravers that are, to be quite honest, assholes. They complain a lot about how they hate the city and the scene, however you will find them complaining while in attendance of a party. They are in an awkward stage in life, fighting maturity and adulthood tooth and nail, and pining to go back to the days when they could party endless without real world responsibilities. Sadly those days are over, and now its time to be an adult. This brings about an interesting question for many of The Evolving, can I make money off of the scene? The answer to that question is very loaded, and too long to go into now, but in short, No, you cannot. VERY, very, FEW, people can make money off any underground rave scene. Extremely talented promoters and DJ's on occasion can live off their earnings from partying, however most chose to have real jobs so the extra income can be that much more enjoyable. However, this question leads many to explore new talents, such as dj-ing, dancing, and in some cases even fire performing. This desire to make some moola from partying allows for some amazing talents to come out and be showcased at said parties, and in the end allows for this particular group of people to grow as human beings. Asshole may be a strong word for The Evolving, most of you are pretty cool, with your super awesome dj jams and your fire poi, you're just in the teething stage of raving, so you're very....whiny. I promise, it gets better.
The Jaded
Alias's: Dennys Syndrome, again Old Busta's, Burnouts.
Age Range: 28-50
Level of Experience: Highly Experienced, and burnt out
Reason for Raving: Being old enough to make fun of everyone else.
After you party hard as a teenager, and after you've done your bitching as a young adult, you are employed, committed, and mortgaged out. You have to deal with the responsibilities and pains of the real world and real life, so you deserve a good time. The Jaded have the right and ability to walk up to any DJ and ask for a song. It could be Bassnectar himself, and if a Jaded raver wanted him to play Sandstorm, he would play it. The Jaded tend to be more involved with the scene, throwing parties, mixing music, and promoting shows. They have buried their fair share of friends, due to various reasons, dealt with the bullshit of thousands of people, and seen enough temper tantrums to last a lifetime. Jaded is the only term that can be used. Still, this jadedness allows for for this particular group of people to be full of wisdom, humor, plenty of horror stories, making them a vital group of people to surround yourself with.
Last but not least,
The Worker Bees
Alias's: Promoters, Designers, Girlfriends, Photographer, DJ's, Booking Agents, Managers, and any other official names you can think of.
Age Range: Across the fucking board.
Level of Experience: Highly Experienced.
Reason for Raving: Income, Social Notoriety.
The Worker Bees are the only reason the scene exists. End of story. Oh yes, there is the music, and sure that's a reason. But if The Worker Bees didn't put these shows together, they wouldn't exists, and you would be spending your Saturday nights watching Wheel of Fortune with your parents, wondering why you haven't killed yourself yet. They have a rather objective view of things, and know that every party needs to be on par, no matter the cost. Driving DJ's around, kissing their asses, being there for their every beck and call are just a few of the duties this particular group has to deal with. However, despite the bullshit, at the end of the night, when The Ragers, The Evolving, and The Jaded walk up to you, and say "Good Job", its worth it.
All of that being said, I hope any close minded views you may have regarding Ravers have been somewhat disbanded. I'm pleased to say that for the past three years, I have been surrounded by mixes of all of these people. However, there is something I should probably tell you.
WARNING: SURROUNDING YOURSELF WITH ANYONE WHO RAGES, EVOLVES, OR IS JADED MAY LEAD YOU TO AN UN-NATURAL LOVE OF ELECTRONIC DANCE MUSIC, DANCING BADLY OR IN A PROFANE MANNER, AND HIPPIES. WORST OF ALL, HIPPIES. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Now, how about you come party with me? Maybe you can tell me what normal is.
-Rue
Friday, October 9, 2009
The Characters Of Art School
My blogs are always separated by many months,but I'm always funny as fuck, so don't complain.
I'm living in Chicago now, attending Columbia, and to say that I feel as if I've stepped into Art School Confidential is an understatement. Given, I won't be going to jail anytime soon, at least not for anything I'm aware of, but it all still seems a bit surreal. This place is full of unusual characters, a lot of them assholes, a lot of them stupid, but the majority of them too high too even know what continent they are on. I've thankfully found a small niche were my loud, vulgar, non-politically correct personality fits in. But the world needs to be aware of these people, their characteristics, their daily patterns, their....mating rituals. You all must be aware of them, so when you must, unfortunately, encounter one of these characters, you will be able to keep yourself safe, and you will easily be able to get yourself out of awkward conversations about their bands or jam out sessions.
THE HIPSTER:
How to spot: This character will be wearing plaid,stockings,Circa Survive t-shirts.
Drink of choice: $70 tea bags, and presuming that one of these creatures is old enough to get into a club, they will be drinking some green tea and vodka mixed drink.
Career/Job Options: Hot Topic, and Urban Outfitters is probably as far as they will go. But remember, both of these places drug test.
In Depth: The Hipsters are presently a plague upon the earth. The walk around critiquing the awesome jam band session they had the previous night with their friends, Mr. Trust Fund, Mr. Salvia and Ms. Pierced Fish. They most commonly use phrases like; "Yeah, man, I mean wow. Wow man. I mean wow." Also, "So, I was thinking about getting a job at Urban Outfitters, I just...i just need to get my life together man, and I think I can change the world." They are here because they feel they can change the world with their paintings and poetry. Yeah, right.
THE PIERCED FISH
How to spot: This character will have at minimum 16 piercings in their face, and then another 10 under the hood. They presently are not allowed to travel by plane because most of the time, they are not willing to remove the bolts in their heads.
Drink of Choice: Most of these people believe they are bad asses, as they drink things such as; Absinthe, Vodka from odd shaped bottles, and drinks that have names like Pierced Testicles, and Bleeding Vag.
Career Options: None
In Depth: I'm pierced and gauged, so it might seem unusual that I throw stones on this matter, but I keep my adornments hidden most of the time. These folks bare them all, and wear them proudly. However, many lack the ability to actually clean their piercings, so most of them smell like fish. These are people that love their holes so much they all gather together in little piercing clubs, where they talk about their piercings, how much they hurt, and who awesome they look. Whats humorous is when they try to group together in a cramped night club, like Neo or at Dante's on Vampire night. They all have so many hoops and bars that they usually get stuck together, making them easy to spot. And also, since they are all connected by this point it saves gas when they all have to go to the unemployment office.
THE SOCIAL REJECT:
How to spot: Torn, tattered old clothing, un-kept hair, ballet flats.
Drink of choice: Whatever mommy pours them.
Career options: None
In Depth: I have personal experience with one of these things. There are still attached at the umbilical cord to their mothers. They do not have the ability to function in society, and so they come here. The deceivingly open and welcoming arms of art school make people think that if they are socially retarded, this school will help them build a future. Sadly, this is not the case. They all find each other and make a little group, where they sit around and talk about their lives, and how they just wanna be different. Well, with no social skills to speak of there is no real future for any of these creatures, and they are without a doubt the saddest characters in art school.
THE GRATEFUL DEAD HIPPIE:
How to spot: Tie dye shirts, baggie patchwork pants, dreadlocks, and they usually smell like opium.
Drink of Choice: Anything natural, deer urine, and bong water.
Career options: Head shops, piercings parlors.
In Depth: These are the oldest of the art school characters, and they represent the foundation. These are usually the people that walk around with a bong attached to their heads, or a pipe in their pockets. They are vegan, and their favorite food usually is puffy Cheetos, or funions. These are the worst to be around because they attract the most attention. Those who know me are probably asking why I would think attracting attention is a bad thing? Well, there is attention, and then there is attention from the cops. Grateful Dead Hippies are always holding something, thus making them not the best people to be around with the cops show up.
Last but not least
THE TRUST FUND ASSHOLE:
How to spot: They will be wearing new clothes from Express, New York Company, and whatever purse or manbag they are carrying with be real. No Chinese fakes on their arms.
Drink of choice: fruity martini's, Amstel light, and mojito's.
Career Options: Daddy's business.
In Depth: These are the biggest assholes of them all. They make everyone else feel like a broke ass because they have the ability to go out and shop every single day, and the rest of us are on a budget. They are extremely judgemental, and quick to put people in their place. Rarely do they date, or associate with those that are outside their class, and these are the ones that whenever they fail a class and they can't blow their teacher into a passing grade, they call mommy and daddy. They are here simply to waste time until they can get married or until daddy fires someone at the office and they can have a job.
If you are ever to come across one of these characters, PLEASE DO NOT PANIC, simply shoot them in the head, or pummel them with rocks. Or if you prefer the non-violent route, just scream "I HATE AMANDA PALMER!!!!" and then they will go away.
Best wishes
-SR
I'm living in Chicago now, attending Columbia, and to say that I feel as if I've stepped into Art School Confidential is an understatement. Given, I won't be going to jail anytime soon, at least not for anything I'm aware of, but it all still seems a bit surreal. This place is full of unusual characters, a lot of them assholes, a lot of them stupid, but the majority of them too high too even know what continent they are on. I've thankfully found a small niche were my loud, vulgar, non-politically correct personality fits in. But the world needs to be aware of these people, their characteristics, their daily patterns, their....mating rituals. You all must be aware of them, so when you must, unfortunately, encounter one of these characters, you will be able to keep yourself safe, and you will easily be able to get yourself out of awkward conversations about their bands or jam out sessions.
THE HIPSTER:
How to spot: This character will be wearing plaid,stockings,Circa Survive t-shirts.
Drink of choice: $70 tea bags, and presuming that one of these creatures is old enough to get into a club, they will be drinking some green tea and vodka mixed drink.
Career/Job Options: Hot Topic, and Urban Outfitters is probably as far as they will go. But remember, both of these places drug test.
In Depth: The Hipsters are presently a plague upon the earth. The walk around critiquing the awesome jam band session they had the previous night with their friends, Mr. Trust Fund, Mr. Salvia and Ms. Pierced Fish. They most commonly use phrases like; "Yeah, man, I mean wow. Wow man. I mean wow." Also, "So, I was thinking about getting a job at Urban Outfitters, I just...i just need to get my life together man, and I think I can change the world." They are here because they feel they can change the world with their paintings and poetry. Yeah, right.
THE PIERCED FISH
How to spot: This character will have at minimum 16 piercings in their face, and then another 10 under the hood. They presently are not allowed to travel by plane because most of the time, they are not willing to remove the bolts in their heads.
Drink of Choice: Most of these people believe they are bad asses, as they drink things such as; Absinthe, Vodka from odd shaped bottles, and drinks that have names like Pierced Testicles, and Bleeding Vag.
Career Options: None
In Depth: I'm pierced and gauged, so it might seem unusual that I throw stones on this matter, but I keep my adornments hidden most of the time. These folks bare them all, and wear them proudly. However, many lack the ability to actually clean their piercings, so most of them smell like fish. These are people that love their holes so much they all gather together in little piercing clubs, where they talk about their piercings, how much they hurt, and who awesome they look. Whats humorous is when they try to group together in a cramped night club, like Neo or at Dante's on Vampire night. They all have so many hoops and bars that they usually get stuck together, making them easy to spot. And also, since they are all connected by this point it saves gas when they all have to go to the unemployment office.
THE SOCIAL REJECT:
How to spot: Torn, tattered old clothing, un-kept hair, ballet flats.
Drink of choice: Whatever mommy pours them.
Career options: None
In Depth: I have personal experience with one of these things. There are still attached at the umbilical cord to their mothers. They do not have the ability to function in society, and so they come here. The deceivingly open and welcoming arms of art school make people think that if they are socially retarded, this school will help them build a future. Sadly, this is not the case. They all find each other and make a little group, where they sit around and talk about their lives, and how they just wanna be different. Well, with no social skills to speak of there is no real future for any of these creatures, and they are without a doubt the saddest characters in art school.
THE GRATEFUL DEAD HIPPIE:
How to spot: Tie dye shirts, baggie patchwork pants, dreadlocks, and they usually smell like opium.
Drink of Choice: Anything natural, deer urine, and bong water.
Career options: Head shops, piercings parlors.
In Depth: These are the oldest of the art school characters, and they represent the foundation. These are usually the people that walk around with a bong attached to their heads, or a pipe in their pockets. They are vegan, and their favorite food usually is puffy Cheetos, or funions. These are the worst to be around because they attract the most attention. Those who know me are probably asking why I would think attracting attention is a bad thing? Well, there is attention, and then there is attention from the cops. Grateful Dead Hippies are always holding something, thus making them not the best people to be around with the cops show up.
Last but not least
THE TRUST FUND ASSHOLE:
How to spot: They will be wearing new clothes from Express, New York Company, and whatever purse or manbag they are carrying with be real. No Chinese fakes on their arms.
Drink of choice: fruity martini's, Amstel light, and mojito's.
Career Options: Daddy's business.
In Depth: These are the biggest assholes of them all. They make everyone else feel like a broke ass because they have the ability to go out and shop every single day, and the rest of us are on a budget. They are extremely judgemental, and quick to put people in their place. Rarely do they date, or associate with those that are outside their class, and these are the ones that whenever they fail a class and they can't blow their teacher into a passing grade, they call mommy and daddy. They are here simply to waste time until they can get married or until daddy fires someone at the office and they can have a job.
If you are ever to come across one of these characters, PLEASE DO NOT PANIC, simply shoot them in the head, or pummel them with rocks. Or if you prefer the non-violent route, just scream "I HATE AMANDA PALMER!!!!" and then they will go away.
Best wishes
-SR
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I'm sorry, tweet was that I can't hear you???
Alright, so I've been busy lately, and I've been neglecting my poor old blog, and it finally reached a breaking point a few days ago. I woke up to see my blog sitting on my bedside table with a gun pointed to my head screaming "write or die!!!!!" So, here I sit, to appease my abandoned blog and to inform people of something I'm afraid we have all seemed to of forgotten.
IT IS NOT, I REPEAT, IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO TELL THE WORLD EVERYTHING THAT YOU ARE DOING EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Most of you can imagine I'm talking about twitter. If you have been living under a rock, or in a pig farm in Mexico, and are unaware of what twitter is, you should drop to your knees and thank god that you don't know. Oh yeah, and by the way if you don't know you are now more intelligent than everyone following Ashton Kutcher.
Twitter is essentially the shittiest part of your myspace account put on steroids, the status update. It's designed so you will Tweet and inform the world of all the activities of your day. Because the world obviously wants to know when you arrive at work, when you go to lunch and when you beat your children. It started as just a simple little site, with a few thousand users, nothing big, nothing scary, but then overnight, like herpes and swine flu it became a pandemic. All of the sudden, God, Darth Vader, and Nick Nolte fell in love with twitter, and their fingers haven't stopped tweeting since.
Soon new apps flooded the itunes store, their sole purpose making it easier for you to tweet from anywhere on the globe. Currently there's seven or eight different twitter apps, and they all always seems to be the in top 25 downloaded list.
Twitter has become the perfect example of how short our attention spans are because you are only limited to 160 characters per tweet. Sometimes, when you go to read a tweet and someone didn't have enough letters to get out the message it can sound retarded.
"So, tonight when I went out I thought that what she said was totally retarded, and then when I called her out sh"
Now, logically if you can't get it out 160 characters, you should just post another message. But the attention span of an average human being what it is, usually after the first tweet is up you've found a small furry creature or a triple cheeseburger you want and your mind is then elsewhere.
CNN, the most trusted name in news is even getting into the game. Setting up a contest to see who get capture 1 million followers first, Ashton Kutcher, or CNN.
1:23 am, I'm awakened by a breaking news text message from CNN. In a world with nuclear bombs, racism and a black president, and college kids going crazy with guns, I pick up my phone fearing the worst.
I open my text message only to discover that Ashton won the contest.
The American economy has fallen apart, several countries with big bombs and scary dictators hate us, and now Mexican pigs are even trying to kill us, and all the most trusted name in news cares about is tweeting.
The bird shit of the world has hit the fan.
-SR
p.s. if anyone wants to follow me on twitter my screen name is sarahrue
IT IS NOT, I REPEAT, IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO TELL THE WORLD EVERYTHING THAT YOU ARE DOING EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Most of you can imagine I'm talking about twitter. If you have been living under a rock, or in a pig farm in Mexico, and are unaware of what twitter is, you should drop to your knees and thank god that you don't know. Oh yeah, and by the way if you don't know you are now more intelligent than everyone following Ashton Kutcher.
Twitter is essentially the shittiest part of your myspace account put on steroids, the status update. It's designed so you will Tweet and inform the world of all the activities of your day. Because the world obviously wants to know when you arrive at work, when you go to lunch and when you beat your children. It started as just a simple little site, with a few thousand users, nothing big, nothing scary, but then overnight, like herpes and swine flu it became a pandemic. All of the sudden, God, Darth Vader, and Nick Nolte fell in love with twitter, and their fingers haven't stopped tweeting since.
Soon new apps flooded the itunes store, their sole purpose making it easier for you to tweet from anywhere on the globe. Currently there's seven or eight different twitter apps, and they all always seems to be the in top 25 downloaded list.
Twitter has become the perfect example of how short our attention spans are because you are only limited to 160 characters per tweet. Sometimes, when you go to read a tweet and someone didn't have enough letters to get out the message it can sound retarded.
"So, tonight when I went out I thought that what she said was totally retarded, and then when I called her out sh"
Now, logically if you can't get it out 160 characters, you should just post another message. But the attention span of an average human being what it is, usually after the first tweet is up you've found a small furry creature or a triple cheeseburger you want and your mind is then elsewhere.
CNN, the most trusted name in news is even getting into the game. Setting up a contest to see who get capture 1 million followers first, Ashton Kutcher, or CNN.
1:23 am, I'm awakened by a breaking news text message from CNN. In a world with nuclear bombs, racism and a black president, and college kids going crazy with guns, I pick up my phone fearing the worst.
I open my text message only to discover that Ashton won the contest.
The American economy has fallen apart, several countries with big bombs and scary dictators hate us, and now Mexican pigs are even trying to kill us, and all the most trusted name in news cares about is tweeting.
The bird shit of the world has hit the fan.
-SR
p.s. if anyone wants to follow me on twitter my screen name is sarahrue
Monday, February 23, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
As time moves on
I have a much larger update coming in the next few hours, but I need to take some time out and pick apart my thoughts as they run through my head.
In the past few years, I have become a radically different person. Physically, emotionally, and career wise, I'm not even remotely the same person I was back in the day.
I'm home right now, and I've been trying over the past few weeks while I'm back here for the holidays to reconnect with some people I had lost touch with when I went off to have a life. As I try, I'm learning a very powerful lesson, as we grow we do really grow apart. I'd always heard that saying and called bull shit on it, being the stupid kid i was I'd always say, " Well, I've had the same friends for years, their not going anywhere and neither am I."
Well turns out I was wrong, and things have changed. Those who I thought were the closest to me have started disappearing, and new individuals have started appearing to take their place. This change has taken place so fast it blows my mind. Regardless of this, having buried too many people in 2008, and preparing to bury another in 2009, the prospect of loosing more people, whether to death or change is frightening.
However, deciding to live my life in 2009 as the glass is half full, I'm thinking maybe this change is for the best. My life has had radical changes in the past two years, and a few more major ones are on the way in the next year, so maybe it's time for a little shake up.
Different people, Different places, Different Lives, Can we stay together, or will we stray apart? Is it fate for us to grow away, or must we fight to rekindle the love and friendships we once had?
In the past few years, I have become a radically different person. Physically, emotionally, and career wise, I'm not even remotely the same person I was back in the day.
I'm home right now, and I've been trying over the past few weeks while I'm back here for the holidays to reconnect with some people I had lost touch with when I went off to have a life. As I try, I'm learning a very powerful lesson, as we grow we do really grow apart. I'd always heard that saying and called bull shit on it, being the stupid kid i was I'd always say, " Well, I've had the same friends for years, their not going anywhere and neither am I."
Well turns out I was wrong, and things have changed. Those who I thought were the closest to me have started disappearing, and new individuals have started appearing to take their place. This change has taken place so fast it blows my mind. Regardless of this, having buried too many people in 2008, and preparing to bury another in 2009, the prospect of loosing more people, whether to death or change is frightening.
However, deciding to live my life in 2009 as the glass is half full, I'm thinking maybe this change is for the best. My life has had radical changes in the past two years, and a few more major ones are on the way in the next year, so maybe it's time for a little shake up.
Different people, Different places, Different Lives, Can we stay together, or will we stray apart? Is it fate for us to grow away, or must we fight to rekindle the love and friendships we once had?
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Why do people keep talking?
I want to know, seriously, I'm in the most boring class at this moment, and I feel like my head is going to explode. This guy keeps rambling on and on and on about Nietzsche, no one here gives a shit. That is philosophy 101, this is English comp 101. I'm also sadly filled with a room full of republicans assholes. There are actually Holocaust deniers in this room. I thought I would never meet one of those, I walked out of class the day that kid said that the " holocaust was a bunch of bullshit ". Yeah, well he defiantly won't ever seen any of his money that was in the bank again.
He asking us what we like to do in our free time now, part of me wants to say that I kill republicans in their sleep. I think I would be lynched in the parking lot though.
Why the fuck do people never shut up? Please tell me why.
He asking us what we like to do in our free time now, part of me wants to say that I kill republicans in their sleep. I think I would be lynched in the parking lot though.
Why the fuck do people never shut up? Please tell me why.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Ladies and Gents, strange shit can happen when..
You get bored with your friends on a Friday afternoon. I was at Chelsea's house, we were broke, bored, but we had my mac, so I decided to show Chelsea what the photo booth application is.
This is what resulted...
As well as this
More of these are on my youtube channel
We also took a ton of strange pictures, Chelsea just couldn't get enough of this app, it was fascinating watching her.
I have also made the decision to post some pics I took of myself when I first got my mac.
Yeah, we all have those photos, so stop judging me. See the rest here
Speaking of boredom, I'm stuck in the middle of an English comp class that has sadly turned into a debate class. Now, those who know me, know my Lincoln/Douglas stats. However, today I really don't feel like arguing, I really don't know whats happened to me, but I'm sick and tired of trying to change republicans into people that matter. I'm sorry, but if you are a republican, you are undeniably, unbelievably wrong, about every single thing you believe. Yes, that's right I said it, I'm the democrat that's not a pussy, you are dead wrong. Deal with it.
On a happier note, I, the jew, am going Christmas decoration shopping in the coming weeks, should make for some interesting blogs.
This is what resulted...
As well as this
More of these are on my youtube channel
We also took a ton of strange pictures, Chelsea just couldn't get enough of this app, it was fascinating watching her.
I have also made the decision to post some pics I took of myself when I first got my mac.
Yeah, we all have those photos, so stop judging me. See the rest here
Speaking of boredom, I'm stuck in the middle of an English comp class that has sadly turned into a debate class. Now, those who know me, know my Lincoln/Douglas stats. However, today I really don't feel like arguing, I really don't know whats happened to me, but I'm sick and tired of trying to change republicans into people that matter. I'm sorry, but if you are a republican, you are undeniably, unbelievably wrong, about every single thing you believe. Yes, that's right I said it, I'm the democrat that's not a pussy, you are dead wrong. Deal with it.
On a happier note, I, the jew, am going Christmas decoration shopping in the coming weeks, should make for some interesting blogs.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Two jews and an umbrella- a ghetto tale
I apologize for my absenteeism lately, I've been busy doing stuff.
How has everyone been?
That's great!!!
I don't give a shit.
Moving on to business. About five months ago I started working at a little place called Steak-n-Shake. I've made many fucking amazing friends since I started working, and one of them is none other than the ever so adorable SuperKim.
Kim and I have similar interests when it comes to art and photography and we came to the conclusion that we absolutely had to have a photo shoot. We chose the infamous Wall in downtown St. Louis to have the shoot. For those who are unaware, The Wall in a 3-mile long graffiti covered flood wall in the old warehouse district of St. Louie. It's truly a spectacle for the eyes, miles of beautiful and unique graffiti art, left by thousands of different people. To myself and Kim it's awe inspiring, however if graffiti art isn't your thing, you'd probably be bored. I think it's fucking awesome though.
After finishing up at the wall, we decided to head down towards some old abandoned buildings to get some cool shots of other a few other graffiti hot spots.
Here is where the story gets interesting.
We didn't have any weapons, and strong men with us, so going into the ghetto was an overall bad idea. But we went with it regardless. When we found what seemed to be a safe parking area we decided to look around my car for any sort of weapon we could use in case some hobos came after us.
We looked and looked and looked, but we couldn't find anything, except an umbrella.
It wasn't a gun, but it would do.
We got out of the car and started walking towards on of the more awesome looking buildings. On the way towards this building we saw what appeared to be some random homeless person siting watching one of the warehouses. We panicked, and decided to go around to the back entrance. We managed to get about ten feet from the back of the building until we heard a voice say excuse me!!!
My heart jumped out of my chest and forty feet into the air.
The very first thing that crossed my mind was, here we are, two jews and an umbrella. One is dressed like a biker chick hooker, the other like a crazed lesbian, how are we going to explain this to the cops?
Thankfully, god hasn't completely disowned me and we quickly came to discover that the man was none other than a security guard. Unfortunately we were unable to shoot at that location, but we didn't get stabbed by any crazed hobo's with old coke bottles.
If you would like to check out how the shoot went you can see everything here
Sweet dreams people, I'm off to play rockband into the early hours of the morning because thankfully, for the first time in six days I don't have to work!!!
How has everyone been?
That's great!!!
I don't give a shit.
Moving on to business. About five months ago I started working at a little place called Steak-n-Shake. I've made many fucking amazing friends since I started working, and one of them is none other than the ever so adorable SuperKim.
Kim and I have similar interests when it comes to art and photography and we came to the conclusion that we absolutely had to have a photo shoot. We chose the infamous Wall in downtown St. Louis to have the shoot. For those who are unaware, The Wall in a 3-mile long graffiti covered flood wall in the old warehouse district of St. Louie. It's truly a spectacle for the eyes, miles of beautiful and unique graffiti art, left by thousands of different people. To myself and Kim it's awe inspiring, however if graffiti art isn't your thing, you'd probably be bored. I think it's fucking awesome though.
After finishing up at the wall, we decided to head down towards some old abandoned buildings to get some cool shots of other a few other graffiti hot spots.
Here is where the story gets interesting.
We didn't have any weapons, and strong men with us, so going into the ghetto was an overall bad idea. But we went with it regardless. When we found what seemed to be a safe parking area we decided to look around my car for any sort of weapon we could use in case some hobos came after us.
We looked and looked and looked, but we couldn't find anything, except an umbrella.
It wasn't a gun, but it would do.
We got out of the car and started walking towards on of the more awesome looking buildings. On the way towards this building we saw what appeared to be some random homeless person siting watching one of the warehouses. We panicked, and decided to go around to the back entrance. We managed to get about ten feet from the back of the building until we heard a voice say excuse me!!!
My heart jumped out of my chest and forty feet into the air.
The very first thing that crossed my mind was, here we are, two jews and an umbrella. One is dressed like a biker chick hooker, the other like a crazed lesbian, how are we going to explain this to the cops?
Thankfully, god hasn't completely disowned me and we quickly came to discover that the man was none other than a security guard. Unfortunately we were unable to shoot at that location, but we didn't get stabbed by any crazed hobo's with old coke bottles.
If you would like to check out how the shoot went you can see everything here
Sweet dreams people, I'm off to play rockband into the early hours of the morning because thankfully, for the first time in six days I don't have to work!!!
Friday, June 13, 2008
Random ramblings from an open mind.
(Currently Listening: Nine Inch Nails- Lights In The Sky)
I, for a very long time, have been a believer in telling people exactly what you feel, regardless of the consequences. With the recent events in my life, that notion has been re-enforced ten-fold. Because you never really know how much longer you are going to have with that person. Over the past few months there have been many different people who have come in and out of my life. Some of them good for me, and others not so much. Some have made a difference in the way I do things, others haven't even been able to scratch the surface. People who I thought were my best friends have disappeared,and people I once hated with every ounce of my soul, I know find myself in love with, again. My brain is weird. I'm siting in a waiting room in a hospital, anxious to find out if someone I love dearly is going to be OK, and for the first time in a long time, I feel fear.
Several months ago, I was hurt by someone I loved. It crushed me, and I really had no choice but to block off my heart and let it go cold. So for these past few months I've chosen to be somewhat emotionless. I've focused 90% of my time on work, and the other 10% on the rest of my work. Now, don't confuse that with my job. My work, and my job are two completely different things. My work is what brings me more joy than anything else in my life. My job is a source of stress and anguish.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. Recently, I've had no choice but to let my guard down around a few different people, and it's been... well it's been good to be happy. It's been good to be able to be myself again. I've started writing again, and I've got god knows how many shoots set up for this summer. It's been nice to be able to be myself around others.
The point of the strange rambling is that I want everyone who is reading this to have an open heart, an open mind, and I want everyone to know that know matter how bad things get, you can always make it through the pain. You can always make it through those bad days. My heart and mind are both now open, and I'm happy for the first time in a long time.
I know I usually make funny posts about ridiculous things people buy, and politics, and other things of that nature, but I fell it's necessary to have a few post ever now and then that are about me. This is my blog after all.
I, for a very long time, have been a believer in telling people exactly what you feel, regardless of the consequences. With the recent events in my life, that notion has been re-enforced ten-fold. Because you never really know how much longer you are going to have with that person. Over the past few months there have been many different people who have come in and out of my life. Some of them good for me, and others not so much. Some have made a difference in the way I do things, others haven't even been able to scratch the surface. People who I thought were my best friends have disappeared,and people I once hated with every ounce of my soul, I know find myself in love with, again. My brain is weird. I'm siting in a waiting room in a hospital, anxious to find out if someone I love dearly is going to be OK, and for the first time in a long time, I feel fear.
Several months ago, I was hurt by someone I loved. It crushed me, and I really had no choice but to block off my heart and let it go cold. So for these past few months I've chosen to be somewhat emotionless. I've focused 90% of my time on work, and the other 10% on the rest of my work. Now, don't confuse that with my job. My work, and my job are two completely different things. My work is what brings me more joy than anything else in my life. My job is a source of stress and anguish.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. Recently, I've had no choice but to let my guard down around a few different people, and it's been... well it's been good to be happy. It's been good to be able to be myself again. I've started writing again, and I've got god knows how many shoots set up for this summer. It's been nice to be able to be myself around others.
The point of the strange rambling is that I want everyone who is reading this to have an open heart, an open mind, and I want everyone to know that know matter how bad things get, you can always make it through the pain. You can always make it through those bad days. My heart and mind are both now open, and I'm happy for the first time in a long time.
I know I usually make funny posts about ridiculous things people buy, and politics, and other things of that nature, but I fell it's necessary to have a few post ever now and then that are about me. This is my blog after all.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
High school is just a part of your life, it isn't your life.
Dear class of 2008,
High school is just a part of your life, it isn't your life.
Those are the words of a teacher, whom I befriended years ago. An english teacher, and a coach who taught me that giving up was never an option. I never actually had him as a teacher, but more as a mentor. He taught me that I was special, and what others thought was meaningless, what mattered most was how I felt.
I sit here, with only one day left in high school, and it almost brings me to tears to think that four years of my life have gone by so fast. Four years of drama, laughs, god only knows how many tears, four years of growing up, gone by in the blink of an eye.
I started high school as an emo, goth whiny little fat girl. I ended high school as the speaker at graduation and a member of prom court. It blows me away how people change. It blows my mind how much I've changed. I stopped and looked in the mirror this morning, and I asked myself what about me had really changed. I'm wearing a Johnny Cash t-shirt, shorts from Hot Topic, my ears are gauged, only 14's but they don't have Gucci studs in them, and my hair which used to be platinum blonde, is now black as night. The shape of my body hasn't really changed much either, I'm still very giant like. I asked myself why people liked me, I couldn't really think of any logical reason so I asked my friend Chelsea about it once I got to school and her response was simple,
"Because your you."
I was confused by her answer, and I asked her to elaborate
"All of those popular kids you've been making fun of for years, they are stuck like that because they care to much for what others think. They look up to you because you could care less about what others think."
I was puzzled by her answer, but the way I see it, life is like a staircase. Filled with billions of steps. A step for everyone. That step may be made of gold and diamonds, or it may be made of wood with cracks in it. Regardless it's your step. You can turn it into whatever you want it to be. It's your step, it's your life, make it your own. What those other stairs think of yours doesn't matter. Right now my step is pretty plain, I don't even have a plant on it, but it has me, and despite 18 years of an uphill battle against conformity, I think that makes my step pretty spectacular.
With love, and best wishes
Victor/Victoria
High school is just a part of your life, it isn't your life.
Those are the words of a teacher, whom I befriended years ago. An english teacher, and a coach who taught me that giving up was never an option. I never actually had him as a teacher, but more as a mentor. He taught me that I was special, and what others thought was meaningless, what mattered most was how I felt.
I sit here, with only one day left in high school, and it almost brings me to tears to think that four years of my life have gone by so fast. Four years of drama, laughs, god only knows how many tears, four years of growing up, gone by in the blink of an eye.
I started high school as an emo, goth whiny little fat girl. I ended high school as the speaker at graduation and a member of prom court. It blows me away how people change. It blows my mind how much I've changed. I stopped and looked in the mirror this morning, and I asked myself what about me had really changed. I'm wearing a Johnny Cash t-shirt, shorts from Hot Topic, my ears are gauged, only 14's but they don't have Gucci studs in them, and my hair which used to be platinum blonde, is now black as night. The shape of my body hasn't really changed much either, I'm still very giant like. I asked myself why people liked me, I couldn't really think of any logical reason so I asked my friend Chelsea about it once I got to school and her response was simple,
"Because your you."
I was confused by her answer, and I asked her to elaborate
"All of those popular kids you've been making fun of for years, they are stuck like that because they care to much for what others think. They look up to you because you could care less about what others think."
I was puzzled by her answer, but the way I see it, life is like a staircase. Filled with billions of steps. A step for everyone. That step may be made of gold and diamonds, or it may be made of wood with cracks in it. Regardless it's your step. You can turn it into whatever you want it to be. It's your step, it's your life, make it your own. What those other stairs think of yours doesn't matter. Right now my step is pretty plain, I don't even have a plant on it, but it has me, and despite 18 years of an uphill battle against conformity, I think that makes my step pretty spectacular.
With love, and best wishes
Victor/Victoria
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