25

Apr

Why the Semicolon is Sexy

I realize that for some people, punctation is just a fact of reading and writing, a necessary way to break up thoughts and words. But ooh how they miss the point(s and swooshes). Punctuation is the intent of the writer, it takes the words and turns them into a voice. Punctuation is “punchy” and manipulative and oh, so sexy.

Yes, sexy. Punctuation is sexy. And of all the punctuation marks in the entirety of the German and Roman languages of the world, all the dots and swooshy commas and explanatory m-dashes and elusive ellipses… The semicolon is by far the sexiest bit of punctuation the world has ever known. If I could make love to a piece of punctuation, you can bet it’d be that seductive little sucker.

With its dot and its swoosh, it vaguely resembles an eager little spermy tadpole scurrying to create life. It’s not just sexy; it’s straight-up procreation. Creation of life. Or voice. Or whatever. It’s Freudian, and thus dripping in sexual everything.

Lingerie is sexy because it hints at what lies beneath. Semicolons are sexy because they hint at what is to come (See? Another Freudian slip).

The semicolon finishes a thought, but still keeps the reader sitting at the edge of their seat, drooling with anticipation over what could possibly come next. It grabs the reader by their tie and pulls them in close, brushes their lips, and then loosens its grip ever so slightly, never sacrificing its power.

It’s a gentle tease, that saucy little minx. 

media

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24

Apr

True Life: I am Life Bulimic

As my friend so kindly put it, I’m life bulimic. The past couple of days, I’ve been working to scour through every last belonging. What has little or no emotional significance I’m donating. Or just plain chucking. Ozone layer be damned, sometimes it just feels better to throw things in the trash. Hard.

A lot of it has to do with moving. What I can’t fit into two suitcases I have to either store or purge.

I get in this mode almost predictably every spring; it’s my extreme version of “Spring Cleaning.” Last year, I called it my Perfect 10 Concept. And while the same rules apply, this is different. This is determined, cold-hearted war. I’m not afraid to call a spade a spade. I’m life bulimic.

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To veer slightly off-subject… I’m so tired. My mom jokes that I have one mode: Go Mode. The problem is that I’ve been in Go Mode since, umm, August 2010. I had a week long brain break when I escaped to the Bahamas in May last year. But other than that, I’ve been running on empty for almost two straight years. I’m tired, burnt out, and it’s definitely not helping my whole mental health (or lack thereof) sitch.

My mom caught this from 3,000 miles away, and kindly booked me a flight home for July. She’s informed me that while I am home, I am to sleep on my beloved red couch, play with my puppy, and eat home food (think Mexican food, and my dad’s biscuits and gravy). I’m going to plan Paris explorations, rediscover my running legs, and bathe in Vitamin D.

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Tangent aside, my purging isn’t just about clothes and belongings. It’s throwing away letters and gifts from high school boyfriends. It’s shedding my responsibilities with WOOF and other clubs. Even getting rid of books, old magazines, business cards. It’s throwing away half of my nail polish, old beat up (Sharpie’d in) flats, and threadbare towels. Even cleaning out my computer files. It’s about clarity, zen. I imagine this airy, white room. That’s what I want my inside to feel like. That’s what I want my everything to be.

For someone who claims to be a “gypsy soul,” I sure have a lot of baggage. And just general shit. Better to purge the 1-9.9s. I’m buying a lot of trash bags. And probably mints, too.

musings

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20

Apr

New Thoughts on “To Read or to E-Read”

Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote a post on e-readers, evaluating whether or not I thought they were worth the investment. In the original post, I applauded the stylish covers and the sleek appeal of the readers, but didn’t really understand the appeal. It’s hard to deny my love for the feel and smell of new and old books. Whether they smell like fresh ink or delicious mold, the experience of reading a physical book, of flipping the page and moving a bookmark each night–it’s intoxicating.

However, since writing that post, I’ve also moved a whopping three times. In one year. And in the next couple of months, I’m moving several more times.

And however obvious this may be to regular folk, I’ve come to the realization that books are freaking heavy.

I probably have two or three boxes worth of books in my current apartment. And before I left for school, I packed up another eight or nine meticulously labeled boxes… chick lit, classics, antiques, and personal favorites. I’m a book nerd, I know. For years, I’ve imagined a dream apartment with hardwood floors, brightly painted walls, lofted ceilings,  a spiral staircase and floor-to-ceiling books. And a dog (obviously).

I love books, but–what with moving around the world and such–I’m in a purge mode right now, and am not all that keen on lugging and storing countless boxes of crap.

So, in the spirit of minimalism, I’m thinking about it… and in true Marian form, I’m reevaluating the pros and cons. Hypothetically speaking… If I were looking for an e-reader, it would be simple. No need for colorful gadgets, no need for games or tablet-like features. I have an iPhone, already. Let’s get serious.

Ideally, it would be small, portable, last forever with one battery charge, have a super adorable case, and frequently emit that new book scent from some hidden sensory disbursement thingamajigger.

Obviously, it doesn’t exist. Continue reading →

books

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