4 posts tagged “lulu's beehive”
For the daytime smoker, the cigarette is a pause button. An Official's Time-Out. A reprieve. What you notice about the daytime smoker is that when they aren't on that break, they are generally balls of kinetic energy. They wear their agitation on their faces. The lines furrow on their foreheads. In the midst of conversation, a deeper, darker, internal discourse is happening. It hides just behind the smile or the eyes or in the tap-tap-tapping of their feet and hands. Something worries them. But the moment they find themselves outside, a small carton in one hand, a lighter in the other, the tension starts to dissipate. When the daytime smoker takes that first drag, his or her eyes flutter. She kicks her head back. His hand falls slack. Something resembling but not quite relaxation sets in. For that five or ten minutes in which she focuses on just the act of breathing -- of inhalation and exhalation -- there is a calm. It is fleeting, however. You can watch the angst re-enter his body as the cigarette shrinks in size. With that final ash and smash of the butt into the ash tray or under the shoe or flick into the street, she has resigned herself to this day and what she must do. And the pressure of those duties will build again until that next smoke break.
I kid. Sort of.
I'm struggling with what I want to say about this book. You don't need me to tell you it's a spectacular piece of writing. It is feminist canon for a reason. It is also, perhaps, one of the most brilliant recollections of mental illness and depression. Plath is also witty and wry and wonderful.
Her Esther, and Plath by extension, would be a chore of a person to care about but I'd like to think I'd get her. Not that it would help anything.
[I've written and deleted a paragraph here three times. We're going to leave it deleted and start fresh.]
Suicide has been a prominent part of my life. I get those who ponder and attempt it. They call and announce their pain. They, generally, don't want to end their lives. They want help. Or to be heard. Whether doing suicide hotline in college or with friends and family in extremely hard times, those people have reached out to me.
Those who are successful at suicide...don't. They dissapear. They simply show up dead.
The two times I've felt intimately involved with someone who has committed suicide, I perceived them as intelligent and special as Esther is written. They saw the world differently. They found absurdity in what most of us consider normalcy. Their response to seemingly "normal" situations were generally so far outside expectation as to be both mesmerizing and often insufferable.
They also had incredible bouts of sadness and solitude. They came up with extreme ways to solve what they considered to be the problems of their lives and the world. They failed to get their desired changes at every turn.
And then they were gone.
I have a friend like that right now. This is her favorite book. She's the reason I read it.
And, I worry.
I wouldn't ever want to be trapped in the bell jar but it's not much easier being on the outside of it either unable to uncork it, smash it, or otherwise break free.
For the insight into what that mindset might be like alone, it is highly recommended.
For the style and skill with which Plath composes her signature work, it is a must.
I'm in my favorite coffee shop. This woman is about to perform. She just walked in. She's wearing some crazy next level Uggs but I'm trying not to judge.
It's been awhile, dear VOXers. Here's my world right now:
1. Everything's Broken! - Earthlink DSL in my apartment isn't working. My car has an electrical short somewhere. My iPod is starting to show the telltale signs of a slow descent into notworkingness. My cell phone's mini-usb port broke (which is making me strongly consider the iPhone sooner rather than later but I don't want to switch to Cingular/AT&T). Electronics are conspiring against me.
2. I work @ work - For the first time in my career (in my life, really), I have more to do than I have time to do it in. I've always been a fast worker. As a kid, it was important for me to finish tests first and to do my homework before I got home from school. I like free time. I like a leisurely pace and space to let my mind wander. Right now, I work 11-12 hour days with barely a free moment. I don't get to VOX. I don't get to keep up on feeds. I'm always well behind on my personal emails. I'm going to have to hire a housekeeper to keep my place in order. I almost feel like I need a personal assistant to take care of my personal life. I really do enjoy my job right now but damn. By the way - Disney Mix Central, Live with Regis and Kelly, Disney Rewards just to URL a few.
3. I'm Broke - Well, broke is relative but you would think that with my recent title change and merit increase, I'd be rolling in the dough. Not yet. With car bills and unexpected payouts and Jet Blue screwing me over, my dollars are not long right now. I'm the poorest well paid man you ever did see.
4. Screw You Jet Blue - So, remember when Jet Blue stranded Baratunde and a cast of thousands in February? Well, I was supposed to fly to NYC that weekend. My flight (and all flights from BUR to JFK) got cancelled on my departure date. A few days later, Jet Blue issued their customer bill of rights and also announced that everyone with a cancelled flight during those crazy 4 or 5 days (beginning on February 15th, the day I was supposed to fly) could collect a full refund up until some day in May. Unfortunately, over the last two months, every time I tried to call JetBlue they were experiencing extremely high volume and I couldn't get through to collect my refund. Today, I was able. The customer care guy was rude to me immediately: "You were supposed to fly two months ago and you're just asking for your refund now?" Yes. "May I ask why?" Because your customer care has sucked every time I called over the last two months. "Well, I dont' think we can give you a refund. We will give you a credit and charge you a $30 cancellation fee." But you cancelled the flight. "No, the computer says it was delayed an hour and then arrived late by an hour." But you website said all flights out of BUR to JFK that day were cancelled. "That's not what it says now and tell me again why you've waited so long?" Because your own customer care policy says I can, Douche Bag. "We can only give you the credit." Fine. But that'll be the last time I fly with you, buck-o.
5. I'm Going to be in the Bay Area next weekend - Friday night to Sunday night. Holla at your boy if you want to hang out. I'm trying to pack everybody in. I suspect I'll be out partying and getting arrested with rowdy social justice chicks Saturday night but otherwise my schedule is clear. Oh, help me put together a bay area playlist for the week to get me appropriately amped. I've got my e-40 and Too $hort and MC Hammer (Don't hate, Gwen) standards but what else is poppin' off in the Bay-eezy?
Probably both.
I kind of hate Rob Sheffield for making me feel like all the relationships I've had in the past have been inadequate. I have never loved anyone like he loved his Renee. He doesn't even hide the feelings he had for her in ebullient metaphor or shlocky hyperbole. He just tells it like it is and it is wonderful and amazing and way shorter than it had any right to be. While I did blow through the chapters focused on his loss and his dealing (or not dealing) because I don't quite have the emotional armor right now to handle more mourning, it's a beautiful love story all explained in terms I totally get -- song lyrics and beats and all the feelings and emotions that we associate with music.
There's probably a mix tape of my own that will come out of this that includes "Symptom Finger" by the Faint, "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" by The Arcade Fire, "Mushaboom (Postal Service Remix)" by Feist, "One More Hour" by Sleater-Kinney, "Keeping You Alive" by The Gossip, "Misread" by Kings of Convenience, and "Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime" by Beck, almost all of which acted as my soundtrack this morning. Somehow, I don't own nor don't think I have ever even heard "One More Hour" by Sleater-Kinney and it is the one song he goes into detail about in the book that I want to know everything about. I can imagine the track in my head by his description. I can hear Carrie and Corin going back and forth. I've already attached an emotional response to it. I will love it. Even if I was deaf, I would love it.
Sheffield goes into great detail about the significance of Nirvana on his life and, in particular, "Heart-Shaped Box". I decided while reading that I'd add Joe Hill's (Stephen King's son) recent debut novel of the same name to my queue. While reading, I aped a line of his that he stole from some outfit a member of Pavement was wearing for a twitter message. I took down quotes, one for me that's a truth I'm going to keep for myself about love and loss and fear and the real agreement that people make to each other when they go into a commitment like marriage and one for you:
There's a reason for that. I leave it to you to figure out why."Most mix tapes are CDs now, yet people still call them mix tapes."
Highly recommended.
