Topic 8/12/09 : Sex

This is the first post from a new project of mine where I ask someone to give me a topic and then have to write about it without stopping. This was written in approximately 10 minutes and has been posted unedited. Credit for topic goes to Rose.

TOPIC OF THE DAY : SEX

I can think of three negative angles from which to write about sex. Off the top of my head. Immediately.

The first – medical consequences. Teenage pregnancy. STDs. When was the last time a teenager heard something good about sex from someone other than a “worldly” older teenager who walked with that been-there-done-that air, the one which the virgins envied and figured they’d never attain?
Second – the unwanted. The risk of that baby, that huge responsibility, that living, breathing, permanent reminder of that one encounter with that one other guy or girl… and what about the babies? What if some, realizing how unplanned and unwanted they were, end up wishing they never occurred in the first place; not even a happy accident, just an accident?
Third – emotional anxiety. We spend all our teenage lives hearing about the consequences of sex; that the first time should be special, that we have to choose that first person very carefully, that it opens us up in a raw, new way, forming an emotional connection that’s very difficult to reverse. There are so many things that could go wrong, really, so many ways to lose control, it’s as if the general adult populace wants us all to become nuns or feel so restricted that we bust out into full-on Playboy bunny gear.
Wouldn’t sex be a little easier to deal with, a little less feared, if it was less taboo?

After all, isn’t sex the reason we’re all here? When was the last thing a teenager heard something positive about sex? Why do adults discuss it in hushed tones around us, with furtive glances over their shoulders and constant watch over the TV channels we check out when they’re gone, the websites we visit… what is the big deal, really, when we have hormones and we’re young and we were born and bred with a natural need to reproduce?

Yes, I believe by now that we all understand the dangers sex can produce for us. The constant drills of health classes and HIV/AIDS awareness days, the watchful eyes and looming consciences of our parents… But, if you think about it carefully, sex, like everything else, is a mix of good and bad. Positive and negative. The adults seem to know it. So why are they so determined that we don’t find out? Isn’t it a given that we will? And wouldn’t it be better coming from them than, say, some older friend, that friend with the mystery of someone who’s done something you haven’t, who makes it seem like if you do it you can get that too? And all of a sudden you’re so very sick of hearing the voices in your head. Be good. Hold back. Pregnant. AIDS. Consequence. All that matters is what your body wants and your mind shuts down, as it was programmed to do for centuries—millenia, even—as your instincts take over and your hormones do the talking.

All of you over the age of 27 need to loosen up, before your constant preaching about the consequences you worry over become the trigger for those consequences to be brought upon your children and the children you mentor, those who look up to you. Sex, like learning to walk, talk, laugh… is inevitable. Consider it a passing of age, really. Equip those around you to be ready for it. Warn them against it. Even repeat the warnings a few times every now and then. But don’t surround it with stop signs and strips of caution tape—because all that makes us want to do is break through them.

3.7.09 : Falling In Love, All Over Again

[Block to Writer's Block: Jack]
Soundtrack:
Consequence – The Notwist
What New York Used To Be – The Kills
Glow – UNKLE
Right Round – Flo Rida
The Sun Ain’t Shining No More – The Asteroids Galaxy Tour

[ - Earlier text exchange -
J: How was NYU?
K: Interesting. People were one-dimensional so far, but teachers were nice and one of them was really fucking cool. I've already made a piece that I love. Far better than the class, though, was the neighborhood. It was magnificent. I explored today for an hour and I wasn't even with a friend. Can't wait to hang out there on Saturdays now]

Yeah, I loved it.
Oh my god the NEIGHBORHOOD. You know those adorable little bookshops you read about in the old classics and in modern magazines where vintage is synonymous with cool? Okay, no, you don’t, but I do. At least, now I do. I’ve been IN one of them.
I think it was called Mark’s Bookshop. Apparently I’m getting worse and worse at remembering names, but I sure as hell remember where it was and what it looked like. Obviously I was unable to resist the pull (the last time I went to a bookstore that wasn’t Barnes & Noble was in Aspen, Colorado, 200…6?), so the natural impulse was to walk in, whereupon I saw a stack of The Onion newspapers before I’d so much as opened the second door. Instant credibility!
Ahhhhh, the smell, the setup. Sprawling rows of books in totally uncoordinated sizes oozed with a downtown charm that made Barnes & Noble seem as despicably chain-store-y as McDonald’s. It was, well, magnificent. (I haven’t outgrown that word since Juno. Although I guess my overuse is kinda blasphemous considering she was talking about sex.)
Anyway, I digress. Ty’s been trying to get me to read Lord of the Rings so we can do a roleplay on it (for all you sickos out there who don’t understand the beauty of the art, that’s not some synonym for cybersex. Some of us actually enjoy writing in our spare time). He even read the greater portion of the first chapter of the Hobbit to me over the phone, which was–well–<insert a word of accolade that does NOT start with an m and end with a t. What’s wrong with my mental thesaurus today?!> (This is the part where I stop sounding like I’m talking to Jack. Jack, if you’re reading this, which you most likely are not, I’m sorry–NO! Bad! Don’t you dare even THINK ‘don’t apologize’!) I figured I should reward such effort with, well, some kind of result. So I looked for the books. Tolkien. Not Ziegesar. Mark was bound to have it.
Horror of horrors! It didn’t. Or at least, I couldn’t find it. It went from, like, Till-something to Tolstoy. Straight to Tolstoy. Nevertheless, I had to resist the urge to make a purchase–not having read “War and Peace” let alone “Anna Karenina” is arguably even more blasphemous than using an adjective originally intended for sex to describe everything that is pleasurable in life. But it was too high up and I was too lazy to clamber clumsily on top of the stool (even though it was, like, right in front of me) in my polka-dotted black skirt and Henri Mendel graffiti boots, so I managed to walk away. Watchmen, however, was considerably more difficult to resist. I am not a comic/manga person–never have been–but after seeing that movie, I simply can’t pass it up. However, the scrooge within prevailed and I managed to leave it under the “Urban – NYC” category (which, by the way, makes no sense to me–what was it doing there?)

Scrooge or no scrooge, I still didn’t manage to walk out of there empty-handed; the March 2009 edition and consequently my first copy of Nylon magazine (cover: Kristen Stewart) accompanied me, and is now spread before me on my desk. For all of you Twihaters who will instantly condemn her for being involved with the franchise, I suggest you read the comments, in which I’ll post an excerpt from the article (I think she says ‘fucking’ even more than I do). Okay, so at $3.99, it had a hefty recession price, but fo’ serious this shit is beautiful. It makes my prized Teen Vogue/Allure subscription seem like Chiclets. And it also provided resistance power when I walked past two Starbucks in, what, three consecutive minutes? So technically I saved a buck and prevented excess calorie consumption.
Literature is good for the soul.

-Later-

I wrote that much about a bookstore? No wonder I never get any blogging done.
The remainder of my day went downhill from there, sadly, and I’m too exhausted to go into detail. I discovered heaven in Kmart, sat outside for an hour and slept outside for another while John Liu announced he was running for City Controller (in addition to seething in silence as Falun Gong staged another pointless, illegal protest that made me want to get on my tiny American feet and hurl profanity-laced sentences brimming with intimidatingly advanced vocabulary at their poorly educated faces), received the April issue of Teen Vogue, went out to dinner, had a lemon lollipop, procrastinated, and had an intriguing conversation with the subject of this blog whom I am now leaving the computer to call.

I love run-on sentences.

- End of Day 7 –

P.S. The weather today (upwards of 60 degrees) made me

Magnificently

Happy

Amped Up Soul

My latest musical fixation has come in the form of a brand that’s somewhere between R&B/Soul and rock. This fusion (the successful versions of it, at least) usually takes the form of an R&B singer over an insane guitar backdrop.

SOME EXAMPLES -

One 2 Many (London) = love.love.love. background. love.
Only U (Ashanti) = One-hit, guitariffic <- [just coined that term] wonder. Not insulting Ashanti’s career, but this is just so much better than anything else she’s done. The magic starts at 0:24.
KEVIN RUDOLF. Yes, the artist in general. Listen to: In The City, Let It Rock

Of course, my favorite genre-hopper has to be Timbaland. Is there anything he hasn’t attempted to merge?

I’m still trying to decide whether Prom Queen is unbelievably innovative or a three-minute-forty-two-second load of crap.

Being the audiophile that I am, I’ll continue looking for more priceless shit in the form of soulrock. As should you. So, you know, when you find it, you can get your ass on AIM and send it to me.

Another Lens To Peer Through

It’s a sign.

After Tyler hung up last night*, I lay there staring at my ceiling, not feeling the slightest bit of fatigue. Irritated at the wasted time, I plugged my cellphone in and hopped out of bed to grab a copy of the New Yorker. Thanks, Ivy.
EDITION: September 22nd, 2008
I’d waded through a couple pieces on the Babar book series, a childhood favorite, and the parallel between an author’s life experiences and his work before landing on an article about Spike Lee. It was twelve pages long, eleven without the title photo.
I was originally planning to skip over it in favor of a lighter read, but I was intrigued by the shot of Spike on the second page. He had on a serious expression that most would find intimidating- I found it endearing. His shirt was black, with white letters proclaiming “OBAMA IS THE NEW BLACK”. His stance was simultaneously very forward and laid back, with one foot propped up displaying an Air Jordan sneaker (there was a reference to this later on in the article).

Some would find his expression intimidating- I found it endearing.

He looked like the type of person I would genuinely want to be friends with.

By the end of the article, I was caught by a sudden desire to direct. This was nothing new- I’d considered the role of director before, an interest rather than an already-developed talent to add to my “jack-of-all-trades”. However, I’d very quickly dismissed it because, well, there were so many other trades and interests in this collection that I’d already honed to better degrees.
Last night, this obstacle struck me as very stupid.

So?

Spike didn’t know he wanted to direct until later on in life, and was most likely talented at quite a few other things, sports included. Look what he became.

—-

The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed, very much looking forward to an uneventful day of rest- the first in perhaps a week. I wound up in my dad’s room, going through his closet and replacing some ties that had somehow slithered off their designated hanger and onto the floor to mingle with the hairballs.
As I was checking his suit jackets for stains, something prompted me to look upward. There were boxes, piled one on top of the other, a couple depicting unopened childhood toys, another… a camcorder? My interest piqued, I grabbed my dad’s chair and promptly hopped on top of it, intending to bring down whatever I found.

Among my discoveries were a doorag (W-T-F?! My uber-asian father…?), a leather baseball cap with which I was very pleased, scarves, a neon pink scarf which I intend to style as a skirt, and not one but TWO camcorders.
Perhaps I’m just overanalyzing as usual. But discovering two camcorders the morning after I read Spike’s article and resolved to look into film?

I slid my hand behind the strap, wrapping my fingers around the camcorder and flicking the switches with my index. It felt good.

*”Last night”; 2/2/09

http://twitter.com/johncmayer

“Choking up while singing means the song is finally good enough.”

Artistic (And Hormonal) Stimulation

http://www.teenvogue.com/industry/video/2009/01/gossip-girl-star-ed-westwick

Click.

Wonder.

Watch.

Worship.

Ed Westwick is my pick of the Holy Trinity (Penn+Chace+Ed) because, besides catering to my not-so-secret bad boy complex, he has actual substance. Might I add, delicious substance. Not that Penn and Chace lack it, but when you add substance to Ed’s X factor you get an eclipse, so to speak.

I kid you not; this link isn’t just about providing you all with some fabulous eye candy. Do you hear the words this man omits?! There’s nothing better for the romantic (and/or animalistic) palette than an intellectual, well-spoken, brutally talented artist wrapped in one smokin’ hot package with, of course, the essential and supersexy foreign accent.

Agreed? Agreed.

MULTITALENT: A Thousand Things

“I just wanted to let people see some of the things I’ve seen. The book contains images I’ve taken all over the world.”
“The way a live performance is to the studio performance; so is Polaroid Instant to the Digital Format. I only get one shot of the subject.”

http://www.athousandthingsbook.com/
A Thousand Things – A book of polaroids by Jason Mraz

Break out of the box!… or at least climb on top of it and use it as a launch pad.
Singer-songwriter Jason Mraz (the man behind 08’s “I’m Yours”) adds “avid and now published photographer” to his resume. I must admit it looks good next to “Grammy nominee”.

PREVIEW:

You know, if anyone mysteriously feels the urge to get me this, you won’t hear me complaining.

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009 – Freewrite

Prelude (First Band, English)
“Happy Inauguration Day.
President Obama, you will be forced to make some tough decisions. Follow Bruce Wayne’s lead and make the right ones, because even if short-term America resents you for them, long-term world history will remember you. Well.
They didn’t start dissecting Lincoln’s second inaugural address until long after he was dead anyway.

Townsend Harris High School
1/20/09
Writing Process – 6
Kari Wei

*written on Microsoft Word*
This fill effect is called daybreak, which is actually quite fitting for the occasion.

Inauguration Day.

 

          A new day dawns for America- and for the universe. Because no matter how far we have fallen in the public eye, this is still the greatest country in the world. We are the focal point in the international eye. Our glass ceiling, albeit still intact, has 18 million cracks within it. Our president- our president- is a half-African man, and a full American man.

            President Barack Hussein Obama.

            President Barack Obama.

            President Obama.

            Washington. Jefferson. Madison. Lincoln. Jackson. Kennedy. Johnson. Reagan. Clinton. Bush. Obama.

            Welcome to a new day, America. Welcome to change. For better or for worse, we are moving- forward or backward, we are moving, and this man has both hands on the steering wheel. We, America, we, the people of the world, the next generation and the future of the universe, pledge to follow you wherever you may take us.

            You are both the white knight and the dark knight. You will maintain a beloved public image while simultaneously making the right decisions even when they do not please everyone. You are Barack Obama, 44^th President of the United States of America, the leader of the modern world. You will uphold our constitution, our bill of rights, our spirit, and our hearts. You are the colors I use to write this (red, white, blue). You are the flag. You are America, and America is you.

            Good luck.

This is what I love about the internet

Two random things I discovered today that warmed the heart.

a) In an article about celebrity roommates that I clicked on while procrastinating:

Christopher Reeve and Robin Williams

At Julliard, roomies Robin Williams and Christopher Reeve vowed to always be friends and help each other throughout life. Both held true to the promise, as they remained close. Williams even covered some of Reeve’s medical expenses after he was paralyzed. Of course, being Robin Williams, he couldn’t stop there; after Reeve found out he couldn’t walk again, Williams visited him dressed as a doctor and pretending to be his proctologist, reportedly causing Reeve to smile for the first time since the accident.

b) Link from Tyler

Turn D-Day back into V-Day

Ah, the dread that accompanies the “most romantic day of the year”.
Perhaps for a lucky few, this is indeed what Valentine’s means. However, for those of us who are not so fortunate (and the number of people falling into this category are usually greater than the former), Valentine’s Day is just another glaringly obvious reason to feel miserable about the lack of a one true love with which to share all those truffles.
For those of us who are, for various reasons, planning to spend V-Day miserably adding pounds to our thighs in front of the TV, I have a little proposition for you. Misery does love company, and what better way to bemoan your solo status than among your closest and equally self-pitying friends?

LAIR: My humble suburban home
MOMENT: Either on V-Day itself or the day after
DECADENCE: A mind-numbingly long movie night over boxes of chocolate that you WOULD have bought or would have liked to receive and, of course, the never-failing tubs of ice cream.
TICKETS: Yourself, your favorite romantic movies, and as many sweets as you can pack.

If you’re interested, leave me a comment with at least three of the following:
- Your name
- Whether/when you’re available
- Movie suggestions
- Whatever sugary delicacies you can bring
- Why you’re qualified for this fabulously sad little gathering

No, I have not discussed it with my dad. No, I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it. RSVP ASAP! Sadness and solitude are NOT a good combination.