Wednesday, August 29, 2007

why i heart pictures

For those of you who haven't visited, do it now.

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This is an image from one of my favorite albums on the site called "What the Camera Saw." It's a selection of images that the camera decided to capture, thus rendering useless and insignificant the photographer.

It's worth a quick skim and if it doesn't catch your interest, then go do something else-- like doodle and/or sing loudly.

As to my title of "why i heart pictures," i heart them because they tell more about us than we can ever tell ourselves. ever.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007


my friend wants to talk to you

The scene:
it's 1am at the Pats (a cheap, fratboy-esque, testosterone overdose basement bar, for those of you not familiar)

The characters:
Yours truly - MonMon the Sexatron
A handful (roughly 4) of drunken boys with British accents. fake? perhaps.

The drama:
MonMon is getting ready to leave with Sethel and JonBoy when Boy A grabs here arm and mutters something incoherent.
"What?" yells MonMon. "It's too loud in here and you're too drunk!"
Boy A yells back "My friend wants to talk to you" and motions towards the clearly obliterated Boy B while boys C and D lean against the wall and giggle and shake their heads, tanked beyond belief.
Boy B smiles. "I do want to talk you." then to Boy A "Dude let her go, she was on her way out"
Boy A "He's been wanting to talk to you all night."
MonMon "Well that's weird cuz I've only been here for about 30 minutes and he didn't come and talk to me. You boys have a good night I'm on my way out with boyfriend and lover," motioning toward JonBoy and Sethel.
Boy B yells to Boy A "Man she has a boyfriend, I told you!" then to MonMon "And a lover? Well, my buddy still wants to talk to you."
MonMon "Well that's super nice but I'm outta here and you guys are all cut off."
Cue the shitty little drunken smiles and giggles from boys A, B, C and D.

MonMon exits stage left.

End Scene.

While I'm always flattered by boys wanting to chat with me in bars (regardless of their level of intoxication) this was particularly interesting. I mean how ridiculous to have a middle man when you're standing literally 4 feet away. Not only that but whats the deal with guys "wanting to talk to you all night" and not actually growing and pair and doing it. Trust me fellas, the last thing a girl wants is your drunk (and albeit, cuter) friend coming over and motioning towards a drunker (and less cute) you saying that you're interested. I mean it was definitely silly but it was going no where.

Here's what you do. I call it:
The Montastic Guide to Chatting up a Dime Piece (in 4 easy steps!)
1. It's ok to stare a bit until you make eye contact. Smile.
2. Repeat
3. Walk over and introduce yourself, offer to buy a drink. Ex: "what are you drinking? Next one's on me." Smile. (Don't worry, most girls will let you buy them a drink even if they think you aren't that cute, you look like a tool, they have a boyfriend, they were just leaving, etc etc etc. Either way, it's a definite way to break the ice, duh.)
4. Buy said drink. Chatsy-watsy.

This public service announcment brought to you by Montastic.

Friday, August 17, 2007

In a word? Noisy.

Revisiting my old post about the italian word of the day (parola del giorno), today's word is:
rumore (roo-more-ay): noise, uproar.

These are a few of my favorite noises:

humming subconsciously- when someone doesn't realize they are humming. it's purely carefree.
emptying your computer's trash - what a rewarding crinkle sound
goofy laughs you think are fake but aren't
hearty laughs from the deepest depths that override any other emotion
violent laughs that sound like they hurt and are so good that they do
quiet laughs people don't think you hear but you do
wheezy laughs just before someone crosses over to that laugh that only dogs can hear
accidental snorting while laughing - gets me every time
the italian language
bicycle bells - it reminds me of old movies and classic youth
turn signals on the car - click-click click-click click-click. i've always loved it. 'nuff said.
accents you haven't heard before and can't place
teeth being brushed
shaving - the scraping sound is one of self improvement, depending on the person
the dull sound of being submerged in water - everything is more simple under there
liquor splooshing around in its bottle
coffee being ground - the sound of destruction, both to the beans and your sleepiness
lighters lighting
when a bottle cap falls to the ground and hits the side of the glass bottle on the way
water bottles being filled
when my phone vibrates - someone somewhere is actively communication. amazing.
stomach growls
walking on coarse gravel
tap dancing
glass shattering or dinnerware breaking
impromptu yelps/cheers/woohoos/screams/gasps/etc. Any noise unplanned and suprising is good by me.

A Tuscan Photo Lexicon

during my morning reading of blogs today, I stumbled across a project by a man named Douglas Gayeton. It's called My Shoes are Caked With Mud. A Tuscan Photo Lexicon. and it is amazing.

And no, not just because it's italian-oriented. I absolutely love the way the words interplay with the images. There's so much meaning in the photography itself (most of which is usually left up to imagination). But, having the words included adds a different perspective and a little insight into the photographer (what he chooses to highlight), the people in the picture (their "true" identities) and the endless possibility of two-dimensional imagery.

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check out the rest of the art and see if it inspires at you at all.

Monday, August 6, 2007

Buzz Buzz

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so, i went on a run tonight.. to clear my head and figure out what i need in my life.

i ran quite far (4.4 miles) and shockingly, something possibly meaningful happened. now, being one for symbolism, i know that bees symbolize creativity, hard work, perserverance and eloquence. (Although i still looked it up online to make sure I was right)

Well guess what happened?
No, a nice lil bee didn't land on my finger as I jogged.
No, I did not get stung by a malicious, ill-tempered bee.

Instead, as I was running, I shit you not a bee flew right into my mouth and hit the back of my throat. In shock, I bit down, thus killing the bee before spitting it out.

It left a horribly bitter taste in my mouth that is still there almost an hour later.

How's that for symbolism.