vinylgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- down with the hate of haters Often I dislike the way I am perceived by people, whether it is comparison in appearance to celebrities or personality. I have heard it all from Meg White from the White Stripes to Russian to Kate Moss' eyes. From evil to not quite pessimistic, but hating alot of things. I will admit that I have strong opinions, inherited from my dear father, and I am usually unafraid to share them. Yet, it bothers me when my roommate tacks onto the fact I hate a particular band (Soundgarden). The only word I can think of right now is righteous. Why should people love everything? Why should everyone be watching out for political correctness? When I shoot the breeze about music, hate is synomymous with dislike. Somehow, her "hatred" for a particular commercial is different. Apparently the amount of things you hate is correlated to the way you hate things. I am the first to say that words like love and hate are overused, but it just frustrates me that there are double standards. Why can't people admit they hate things too? "Oh, no. I just dislike things. Hate is too strong a word." According to my BFF dictionary.com: hate I really dislike Soundgarden, and I think it perfectly fair to say I hate them. My use of hate does not mean I wish ill upon them, just that I really do not like their music. It hurts my ears. You might be saying, "gosh, she is really angry." I am not, and I have no hatred for my roommate. What I do take issue with is the sort of self-righteousness people peddle now. I am not a hate-filled person because I use the word hate and you do not. This type of venting makes me realize I still need the sense of anonymity I have here. It does not make me a coward; I just view the idea of journaling differently. I have been playing with the idea of starting a blog on blogger or a similar site, and going public — if you will. I enjoy reading the people who have blogs on these sites, but it isn't me. Besides the logistical issues: signing up, desiging a page, linking people, and becoming public, it wouldn't represent me. My journal is where I make my thoughts resonate against a wall to hear what they sound like. I do not post pictures of myself or write about every small detail of life. There is a voyeur in me who loves the idea of minute details, but I always wanted my diary to be something more. If I had a blog like that I would lose the wonderful things I gained here: a form of self expression that clenses me. Yes, I only have slightly under 150 entries, but each one is important to me. I do not post unless I have something decent to say. I have decided instead I will revamp the diary. Perhaps I will change the design and add some photos and such. These things will not be the focus though. When I started this journal I did it for me, and not for the fame. I have a vague idea of who reads it, but I don't write it for them. I think this is the one fatal flaw of blogging: people write for their fans or for the sake of the fame associated with being "blogger-x." Perhaps when I die two people will read this collection of entries and deem it worthy of something, or perhaps they will deem it garbage. Either way it should not and will not affect what I write. The moment I write this for anyone else is the moment I should shut it down. This diary is more and more a resource I go to in order to remember, to write for the so-called "public sphere"and my form of personal therapy. * * * Now I need a new "in." In date-speak this is the excuse to talk to that person, and to construct further excuses to talk to them. Sometimes it can take weeks to construct a good "in" and often it includes the hard work of friends and family as well. My "in" before was to call in a request to his radio show. I was supposed to set up another "in", but I chickened out. I have been toying with another idea: make another request, but be sure to ask his favourite record store. I will then inform him of my plan to buy records, and if I feel ballsy invite him. My only concern with this "in" is I have already used it, and it makes me seem too available. Girls and boys do not want to seem too available. There needs to be a mystery — will she or won't she call in. Of course, this presumes that he cares at all or thinks of me. The other part of me says, "fuck, you are such a coward. Grow some cajones and try something." Perhaps I will play it by ear and gauge his interest on his respose to my record shopping prompt. Mr. Seven-and-one-half-year-relationship responded to my email. I replied quite late, so the breakdown in communication is my fault. In his last email he said he was thinking of me when reading an article in the Toronto Star about boho-chic fashion. If this was a boy I was interested in I would swoon: first for remembering I adore that style, and second for thinking of me. Instead my first reaction was "who are you to think about me? You are practically married!" So in anger I asked in the last paragraph of my email how his girlfriend is. "Ha!" I thought, "let's see what he says now." He completely ignored the question, and in fact the girlfriend was not even mentioned in his current email. He did ask if I would be visiting Toronto anytime soon. What is his deal? My co-worker kept telling me not to be naive. I am trying because I want to believe men and women can be just friends. But then I cannot shake the hour and a half long phone conversation we had one night — abruptly ended by his ladyfriend's entrance. If I was the girlfriend and I heard about me I would be upset to say the least. It is this part of me that makes me want to write things like "what are doing?" in an email. The other side complains how unfair it is the guys you have the best connection with are the taken ones. I will reply to his tomorrow with another test: "I cannot make it to Toronto. Too bad though. It would be nice to hangout with you. You know, aside from almost running into each other at Fez Batik." We shall see what this devious fellow comes up with. Allison xoxo 12:13 a.m. - 10/20/2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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