Tag Archives: school

Animals At The Zoo

Let’s talk about writing.
See, that was a technique known as breaking the fourth wall. It’s probably gained some fame since the premier of the Deadpool movie this past weekend. I’d now like to use a well-known and overused writing technique known as a metaphor. You see, I can compare various writing styles to the animals you would see at the zoo. A deep lengthy writing piece, for example, something you would see in the New Yorker magazine or that your college proffessor would assign for you to read, is an anaconda. Wedged between a fake rock and plate glass, this large sluggish animal, with its dull eyes and tiny diamond head, appears dull and boring. To truly understand the complexity and ferocity, one has to get past the glass and in the tank and then see how this snake reacts when it gets hungry.
Other pieces of writing function like the tropical birds you can get up close with and let dive-bomb your head in a heated house at the zoo. Beautiful, coloful, fascinating, and melodic, these creatures are only hypnotic for so long before you realize they are nothing but a small mass of fluff and repetitize nonsense you’ve heard before.
My writing does not belong in a zoo, and that’s not just because no one would look at it. My writing ressembles those frogs that school children find in ponds near nuclear power plants. With their green and leapord-spotted skin sprouting out extra limbs and mucas, there is something inherently wrong with these swarming creatures, something bizarre and twisted that makes people shake their heads in confusion. I’m not talking of something Lovecraftian or inspired by Poe. I’m talking about mix-ups and lost train-of-thoughts and crude references. Something that is abhorred until the right person with the right appreciation comes along, picks it up, and studies it with a quiet fascination, maybe realizing that these little green deformities stand for something bigger, something more important as a whole. With the frogs it’s the school kids or scientists. With me, maybe a friend, a teacher, and hopefully in the future it will be an editor. It’s good proofreaders, professors, and editors who can give structure to my work. My leads are more than often abhorrent; I can’t pick a focal point in my article when I want the reader to find every little detail as important as I found it. No, without these people, I’d just continue swimming in circles, paddling my extra┬álimbs.

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Update: I’m back! And I’m going to real concert before I have to enter real adulthood.

Source: ticketmaster.com

So I had decided to adopt this blog from it’s original form as a college project to regular, personal, maybe news-centric blog. I decided this months ago. And then I had an internship this summer, and I was finishing up with the moving in to my new place with my boyfriend. And then this fall I’ve been splitting time between work, school, my internship, and god knows what else. So I’ve decided I’ll write whenever and whatever I can, and currently I’m listening the the album Astoria by the band Marianas Trench so I’ll write about that.

You might have heard about this band, and you might not have. You’ve probably heard about “Call Me Maybe,” the super-catchy pop-song that was nominated for two Grammys. The lead singer of Marianas TrenchJosh Ramsay, helped produce the song and switched Carly Rae Jepsen’s folk song to a pop hit.

Source: luketheemoji on Tumblr

Source: luketheemoji on Tumblr

The band’s sound is pop-punk packaged into sweeping concept albums. Their last album, Ever Aftertold a sort of Toyland fantasy story. Their newly released album, Astoria, imagines it is the soundtrack of a movie like The Gooniesand so it includes Hollywood-esque instrumental pieces as well as songs resembling Queen or Michael Jackson. I usually will say a band sounds like Queen as a complement, and this is no exception. I like the album, but I’m not the true fan.

Source: giphy.com

The true fan is my boyfriend, Chris, and so, as a combined birthday-Christmas present I bought him VIP tickets to their concert. Then he had a stroke (I’m just kidding but he was freaking out over the news, girlfriend points to me). So I’ll be meeting the band, and I will be going to my first concert that is not a) Full of folks over forty, or b) Full of folks under fourteen (okay this concert might have some younger audience members, pop-punk is teen magnet, but still…). You see, my very first concert was at sixteen, to see the amazing Pink Martini. I loved it, but it was The Egg in Albany, and we (as in me and, yes, my parents) stayed in our seats and listened politely with the mostly older audience (the band creates various vintage sounding pieces sung in numerous languages by the very talented China Forbes).

Source: makeagif

I’ve been to little hole-the-wall venues since, and then, this summer, by a strange turn of events, to the Times Union Center‘s Ariana Grande with a friend of mine who is a fan (no, it’s not me, believe me). It wasn’t my sort of music, and we were surrounded by young girls wearing glow-in-the-dark cat ears, but my friend said it was a nice end to a stressful week for her. Now, though, I can go to an average-sized concert to see a band I enjoy and be able to jump around and dance or even (in the case of my boyfriend) scream my heart out (I’d take out that last jab at Chris, but even he’d admit to it).

Source: giphy.com

All this, and it’s even before I turn 21, which is the age I’ve decided I will be a real adult. Not the weird semi-adult I am now. Well, maybe I’ll still be weird. More than likely, really.

PS: Sorry about all the gifs, but that’s what the kids are doing these days, right?

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