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Ramble O’s: Blog Serial v1 e2

As we near the end of January, it’s time to exam 2007 so far. Is it just me, or is the concept of New Years Resolutions discussed much more than actual resolutions are made? Every newspaper, blog, news broadcast, comic strip, themed strip club, and billboard is brimming with Resolutions - what they are, if you’ll keep them, how to keep them. Now, I haven’t sat down and made a list of resolutions in like 24 years. Am I the only one not doing this? Or—like the Yetti, a free lunch, or available girls with self confidence—are New Years Resolutions a figment of our collective imagination? It would make sense. There’s a certain post modern romance to the idea of creating a physical list every year of all the reasons you’re unhappy. That’s advertising gold dudes!

Remember that feeling you had when you first started driving a car? Or first went on a date to a fancy dinner? Or first started going out to bars? It was the feeling of awkwardness mixed with excitement. You always knew these things existed, and that people did them everyday, but they are still uniquely foreign to you. I still get that feeling every time I go to the Post Office. There’s some set of rules there, steps in a ballet I’m not privy to. I always kind of stand dumbly, wondering the same things: Do I get in line? Where are the envelopes I need? Should I just buy stamps at the machine? What’s the difference between all these boxes? Why are all the women who work here built like linebackers? I always feel like the only one who’s confused though. Everyone else waits in line, stone faced, like they do this everyday. Good thing that despite their butch appearance the employees are always as kind and lovable as your grandmother. Then you remember coming to the Post Office with your grandmother years ago, and even though you’ve fallen comfortably into the rhythms of adult life, being here feels as foreign now as it did then.

A fun game is to look around your office or wherever you may work, and notice all the people wearing new clothes they got for Christmas. It’s starling how, seeing people everyday, you get to know their wardrobe enough that you can spot the new additions. It’s not as easy now that they’ve been living in the clothes for a few weeks, but you can still tell. That new dress shirt (usually still sporting the creases in the back from the package) or the new skirt suit makes that person hold their head a little higher. We all do the same thing—walk taller with our fancy new threads. These clothes will eventually transition into normal rotation, shifting from novelty to familiar comfort, but for these first few weeks we’re all a little bit fancier and new.

Steven Colbert is flaccid with rage.

Do the multiple meanings of this word confuse and frighten anyone else as much as it does me? Look at #1 and #4. I’d be cautious to use this too frequently. I think there’s a hilarious adult cartoon character in their somewhere just waiting to be discovered.

sem·i·nal [sem-uh-nl] – adjective
1. pertaining to, containing, or consisting of semen.
2. Botany. of or pertaining to seed.
3. having possibilities of future development.
4. highly original and influencing the development of future events: a seminal artist; seminal ideas.

Although I have no actual frame of reference, I imagine this to be hauntingly accurate.

This is why Al-Qaeda hates us.

Ah, to be young and have the innocence still to dream…

I predict the next hipster trend will be to carry a baguette around a party, tucked under one’s arm. First, it was the 30 pack. Then, the ironic box of wine. Now that the Atkins fad has all but died out, bread is chic again. What better way to avoid a hellish hangover than to stock up on simple carbs that’ll absorb all that alcohol so you can buckle your white leather belt and lace up your Converse sneaks before you hit Magnolia’s for some afternoon cupcakes the next day. Plus, it’s vaguely French which seems to be the attitude all the filmmakers I know are striving for anyway. Mark my words: the baguette is coming.

One must not ask ‘Why?’ but, rather ‘Why not?’

Justin Dickinson



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