Amanda's Archives

So this is maybe a little mean...

but, while I’m here, unable to sleep (as previously mentioned), I’m trying to get some of my work done that I didn’t get done this afternoon.  I had a question about something I need to send a school that I am interviewing at in October, and since it’s 3am on a Sunday morning and offices are closed, I decided to look at this very neurotic online forum place where all the little obsessed people who I am competing against gather and share in their pain, while simultaneously tearing each other down.  I posted there once, a few months ago, and immediately regretted it (these people are piranhas, I tell you), but sometimes they provide good information.

Anyway, someone on the forum had the same question as me, and he posted it twice and got no answer.  Finally, someone responded with “Everyone else has already been rejected from [redacted] you fucking elitist!”

And it made me smile.

I’m not taking pleasure in anyone else’s misfortune (I received two rejections this week) but, I like that I’m considered an elitist for receiving a coveted interview spot at this particular school.  It minimizes the sting of the disappointments I had earlier on.

Oh, and for the uninitiated, this process really does take up to 16 months.  I think if you make it through with your sanity intact, you get an honorary degree.  or a bright, shiny medal.  or at least a cookie.  gooey, with lots of chocolate chips.

I really need sleep.

Also, if you want to read the original postings, check here and here.  Tami’s summary pretty much covers it all, though.

buyhercandy:

spent the whole day away from tumblr in an attempt to actually get some studying done for once.

apparently i missed a lot. can anyone fill me in on the overshare/ryan adams debate? i’m going to try and tackle the 40-odd pages of my dashboard, now.

I Can't Sleep.

It looks like I’m not the only one.

hmm...ok

As a “difficult” woman, I’ve never felt the need to repress my “subterranean urges” when it comes to art and love, (the workplace is a different story, but somewhat irrelevant to the conversation).  Men fall madly and deeply in love with deranged, sicko, neurotic nymphos all the time.  Trust me.  Being crazy is not an impediment to finding love.  As a culture, we mythologize difficult women just as much as we do difficult men.

People like Ryan, because he’s an amazing artist, and because we can relate to him (or he’s an amazing artist because he’s so good at relating to people).  I don’t think gender has anything to do with it (and I’m more or less a militant feminist, so if I thought this was an issue, I’d say so).

I don’t think Ryan’s female fans are “madly in love” with him or even the idea of him.  Women fantasize, sure, but people know the difference between their fantasy and the actual real-life, living, breathing, person.  I say “I love Ryan Adams,” but that doesn’t really transfer beyond me loving his music, his writing, his words, and what he’s shared with all of us.  I’ve never met him, so who knows, I might really hate the way he brushes his teeth in the morning, or how he leaves socks (multicolored striped ones) at the foot of his bed before he goes to sleep at night (I made that up—I have no clue about Ryan’s cleaning habits, nor do I particularly care where people leave their socks at night).  I don’t think that because I’m in love with his words, that I’d necessarily get along with him as a person.  I am offended that because I am a fan, or because I respond to some of the things Ryan writes, that I am viewed as a silly little girl “in love with the idea” of a man I’ve never met and know very little about.  I do not lack self-awareness, and I understand the limits of my affection for one of my favorite artists.

And Ryan hasn’t stolen my soul.

(I don’t know where this is from, so if I took all of that completely out of context, thereby missing the point, I’m very sorry.)

dradams:

this was asked….

“Cynthia Heimel, essayist-extraordinaire wrote that difficult men are considered cool, romantic, interesting while difficult women are considered deranged, sicko, neurotic nymphos. So we see a fellow who is like you and we identitfy. All those secret subterranean urges that we deny ourselves are manifested in this man and we fall madly in love with the idea of him, often not even vaguely understanding that we’re falling in love with an aspect of ourselves that we’ve denied, hidden, blocked, ignored.

….That sounds about right. You are like the fiddler…stealing everyone’s soul.”

no.

not scientific enough, not with this truth. if i should sing a thing

it is my highest expectation always met that i am a messenger

but not the message

because that is a thing that blocks a truth

and i desire what is open

which cannot be closed

but

this does mean from another

no

from far outside any skin

JB and the syncopated multi-corns

Taylor, your rant was far from “crazy.”  And yes, sharing does make us vulnerable, but it’s the only way to grow.  I stopped tumblr for awhile in part because I cared too much what other people thought and worried about who was and wasn’t following me.  This time around though, I’ve been able to keep my insecurity at bay.  For now, at least.  (I’ve posted some pretty personal stuff on here the last couple of days—personal for me, anyways).  

Sometimes though, I think we need to reach out to people and let them know we’re listening and that we care.  I couldn’t agree more with your last statement.  More love, less snarkiness (is that a word?)

taylorswaim:

God, I’d almost completely forgotten about that crazy rant I made.  I think this even sort of goes back to that post I made last week about my lack in ability to be comfortable w/ other people looking at my photography… I think sharing makes people vulnerable. We’re on this thing here sharing w/ people we’ve never even met before, not even close personal friends, complete strangers (although now I feel like I do know some of you, and even have a “sister” in one of you).   As long a there are people in the world who find it fun to tear other people to shreds, no one will ever be truly “comfortable” sharing themselves.  It’s a big pill to swallow when you put yourself out there. Especially when you feel like you’re alone.   So many people have gone through a lot of absolute crap, and sometimes they just need n outlet.  Maybe not even for anyone to see, just someplace to go to get it out.  This was sort of that place for me to begin w/ but over time I started to put less and less of myself into this blog because I was getting more and more feedback from “strangers”. I’ve never been comfortable w/ people knowing a lot about what goes on in my personal life.  I think it’s awful that people find it fun to poke fun of people when they’re just trying to open up and be more human.  It’s almost impossible to get real human emotion out of people these days.  So many people are fake. You never really know who someone is anymore because someone may be guarded, or untrusting of people because they’ve never had someone around to trust from day one.  Or people may just be manipulative and thats why you never see their true colors.  I don’t know, I’m going on and on…

what I really wanted to say was that we need to embrace each other for trying to connect.  The world is scary, and we need all of the love we can get. 

JB and the syncopated multi-corns

I just read this and then traced back to see what inspired the post.  wow, this is almost exactly what I just complained about not more than ten minutes ago.  (see blah).  Also, taylor, tami, and others were involved in this conversation here, which is also somewhat related.  we are all connected … seriously spooky.

I agree, and can see no reason why we can’t all share on here without the external commentary.  Tumblr is it’s own little special universe, and that’s perfectly ok.  We can connect on this level.

dradams:

whatever.

why can’t i share or someone else share, and there be a sort of “we meet here on the level” vibe…. you know. plus when i speil i burst lots of info then i go “ghost”.

going “ghost for me” is like staying in for three days hiding under some quilts and just reading about some shit you have no business knowing how to do… like they make these great reference books, these how to books, which are very witty, and you might learn how to make a proper bookshelf to re-wiring lamps, or speed-reading- or learning how to memorize stuff- by teaching yourself alphabet code….or history. the real one.

anyway, i always though synocphant was like, someone who wanted to like take up some sex stuff with like Warrant (not saying Warrant or any Hair-Metal band did stuff with girls, but gross and yuck and i dunno bout that whole scene man where is the galaga machine, with a Galaga Machine for a heart - heavy with things past anyway- my love is always too wordy and a mess)

-sycophant |ˈsikəfənt; -ˌfant|nouna person who acts obsequiously toward someone in order to gain advantage; a servile flatterer.

Procrastination

If you look through my many, many posts from yesterday evening and today, you’ll see that I’ve spent the majority of the day delaying writing essays about myself by, um, writing about myself.  This is troubling.  I’ll do better tomorrow.

Blah.

So, I just did that thing, you know, that thing that people complain about when it comes to Ryan Adams’ tumblr, where people reblog him and they write to him like they know him, like they’re friends.  I’ve seen so many people post stuff here and elsewhere about how that’s “sad” and “pathetic.”  I don’t know.  I talk to him just like I talk to everyone else on here, and if that’s too familiar, than I don’t know.  Isn’t this place all about sharing?  He’s part of this little world too, and I don’t think he wants to be treated differently, or that I should feel compelled to act like he’s untouchable.  Of course, I know nothing on here translates outside of the computer screen, but I hate that I feel weird every time I reblog him, even though I talk to people on here all the time without even thinking about it.

Ryan,

When I was a kid, I used to visit my cousins in Rockland County for Christmas, and they subscribed to Reader’s Digest.  They kept their back issues on a rack in the master bathroom, which also had a very nice heater.  In the winter, I’d spend hours in that bathroom reading Readers Digest’s from the previous several months, warming myself by the heater (I was a little girl from the desert, so New York in the wintertime was always shocking).  My cousins probably thought something was wrong with me or that I needed alone time, but that’s okay, they knew I was a little strange.  I was embarrassed to admit that I read Reader’s Digests, because of that phrase, you know “the readers digest version.”  I heard that once, I don’t know where, and decided that it wasn’t cool for me to read them, so I never told anyone.  That’s so dumb though, for so many reasons, and nothing that I’m saying right now has anything to do with why I’m writing.  So, anyway …

You mentioned Reader’s Digest and I thought, cool, someone, other than me, under the age of 60, also used to read the Reader’s Digest (although we’re probably not the only ones, since isn’t it like the best selling magazine of all time?), but the fact that I had that thought, is a perfect encapsulation of the point you made, which is that you share and create in part to make other people feel less alone.

So, thank you.

You’ve said stuff like this before, in many different ways, and it’s how you live your life, so I believe you.  I really believe that you dedicate yourself to inspiring people and to helping them get through their days knowing they aren’t alone.  That’s really beautiful, and is probably why I like you so much.

Also, you’re doing a damn good job.  Seriously.

So, once again I’m picking out a piece of your post to comment on, because it resonated with me, but I hope it doesn’t seem like I didn’t read the rest, or that I don’t think it’s important.  I do, I just don’t have anything original to say beyond “oh, gawker” and “I like dragons, as do many of my female friends (Saphira, Geryon, and Norbert are my favorites—although, you know, buddhist dragons are cool, too).”

-Amanda

dradams:

its so hard to share…hard as fuck- and it’s good for others. it’s good for others to know they are not alone if they are in pain- imagined, physical, or emotional. it’s very fair to want to connect that way.

when i was little i read the Readers Digest series and couldn’t wait for the mail to come. I’d open each one like it was a box of chocolate. I couldn’t wait to know if what I was dreaming was close to what others were dreaming.