So I was in New York City yesterday.  I took the bus, and rocked myself to sleep with a  little of this [definitely some of the best music to come out this whole indie rock movement] followed by a lot of this [newest CD- I love you].

I was also on a mission to re-create my 2009 summer living in Paris by going here– it’s the only one in the US!! Unfortunately, its hard to recreate the Parisian ambiance.  It just wasn’t the same- even though it was delicious.

Then off to my interview with them!  Now I have a writing assignment…I hope I get an ‘A’

I swung by here [duh], then scooted off to an early dinner here before catching my bus back to DC.  I wish I had been able to make it here, but time was pressed.  I guess I’ll just have to make another trip [oh darn].

I got home at 1am.  I’m tired, but man I love nyc.  They say it has an energy, and whoever ‘they’ is is totally right.

**I wonder if this is going to be the future of storytelling.  Just plugging in links instead of taking the time to describe things/events?  I was just being lazy, but maybe everyone else is too?  I mean it’s already started to happen- you don’t see any nytimes best sellers having pages and pages of song lyrics circa Lord of the Rings- The Fellowship of the Ring [I never made it through the others, the first one was enough for me.  Besides, the movies were excellent].  We want facts, and we want them now.  When the internet can help you to confirm in seconds that even though Hope Solo kiiind of looks like a giant- she’s only 5’9″, why would you put yourself through 15 pages of someone describing the feeling of a warm summer day?  No one creates that flowy elaborate language of Wuthering Heights and “Portrait of the Artist of A Young Man” anymore [and lets be real that book would never make it today- people wouldn’t be able to get through the entire title].

It was pretty serious when I decided that, no, I am not going to skip ahead to the end of 1984 and just figure out what the hell happens to Winston.  I had faith in good ole George that the message I got after reading the entire book would make me put on my thinking cap and ponder the concept of democracy and a ‘utopia’ [and it kind of did, no joke].  It was clearly a different time when Orwell decided it would be a good idea to have 30+ pages of his book be composed of an excerpt from the- fictional- “Manifesto of the Brotherhood”.  That was torture. 

So where will this minimalist approach to writing end?  Hopefully it wont end up like this blog post because part of the beauty of a book is that it can transport your mind to somewhere else, to another persons’ life.  But then again I’m totally OK reading books without songs, sorry Tolkien.

Wow, this kind of thinking is a throwback to my brain in 2009 when I got an average of 3 hours a sleep a night in architecture studio…I apologize.

Now please excuse me while I go eat the best invention ever: a plumcot


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