watching Tron was a lot like spending time with my mother

There were times when I was like, 'are you seriously saying that right now,' and i didn't think i could take another second!
Then there were parts that were so endearing that all i could do was enjoy the simplicity of the scene.
It made me think about mortality, what I'm doing with my life and what the point of it is in the grand scheme of things any way.
It had me asking the question 'you have all access to all of this advanced technology but you are never even going to get close to using it to it's potential, are you?'
And just when i thought i had it figured out and was totally over it it surprised me and made me look at it in a whole new way.
But seriously Tron, making Daft Punk's cameo be as DJs? LAME!
and those are ways that Tron was like my mother.
The uncomfortably unclear nature of the relationship between Sam & Quorra, who are essentially brother and sister, that part was just gross.

Strangelove, PhD or: How I Learned to Stop Hindering and Love Lady Gaga

My first impression of Lady Gaga was roughly : "oh, so this is what you would get if you shoved Peaches and every single incarnation of Christina Agullera into a meat grinder." I tried to watch the Poker Face video in order to make a list of everything that was wrong with it, but I just couldn't take it. I flipped off the television and that was it. I hated Lady Gaga.

And, OK, maybe i thought Just Dance was a fun song that would have totally been my Wednesday night jam if I were still someone who went out on Wednesday nights. But as far as i could see that was all Lady Gaga had. I figured that, in time, she would quietly shuffle off to Ibiza to hang out with the Venga Boys, and i went on about my life.

Then one day something aired on VH1 that captivated me with the same seductive power as The Ring from The Lord of the Rings. Once i was able to look away and got my wits about me I had the strangest feeling. You know how after you overindulge in dessert you can just feel the diabetes coursing through your veins? It was sort of like that except after watching the Paparazzi video sort of felt like i was coming down with clamidia.

I fought against my urge to eat moldy bread and allowed my love for Lady Gaga to secretly fester so deeply that when the bad romance video was released I watched with excitement and presence and from the first frame i got it and i not only got it i got Gaga.

Now there are so many things I love about her, but the very fact that i am a Gaga fan is at the root of my adoration. The journey i went on in the process of becoming a Gaga fan makes me grateful for the fact that she exists. I had strong opinion about her for a long time and it completely changed. And that's allowed to happen in me.

It is absolutely OK for me to let go of the way i thought about things in the past. If i change my attitude towards something I don't have to think the person i was who held it differently in the the past with the different opinion in the past was a bad person, and it is completely plausible for me to change things about my self the I currently can not see a chance of changing. And none of it has to be at the cost of what else I'm doing or i did that may be or have been laying the foundation for other parts of my life in the future. I am a house that is going to go thru many renovations in this life time. And if I'm happy being different than i was it isn't because who i was was so terrible... it was just a different version of me. And if i enjoy who i become in the future it isn't at the expense of who i am today. And knowing that makes me feel liberated, and saying it makes me feel powerful. And.

When I experience Lady Gaga's work I'm not simply enjoying a performance, I physically feel a wave of emotion connected to all of the blips of inspiration she has to offer, my right to evolution included. She is the little red string tied round my finger to remind me of that.

test

I'll kick this off by revealing something about my self that i've never shared with anyone before; every time a blog catches my interest i can't fight the urge to go back and read the blogger's first entry.

I'd now like to address anyone who is reading this in the future. Hello. How are you? I know... I do it too!

I know of two reasons why someone in the future would be reading this post. They either find my take on everyday adventures charming and want to follow my story from the beginning, or, after randomly stumbling across my blog, they are hoping to catch a gimps of the type of person who would put such crap up on the internet. I'm usually thinking the latter when clicking thru a blog's achieves looking for entry number one.

I have this false sense of superpower in that i believe I can tell a lot about a person based on their first blog post. I have a faulty sense of logic in that I base the former assumption on the fact that I have started a lot of blogs, each to cast my self in a different light, each initial entry carefully crafted with the intention to tell readers a lot about the person i wanted them to believe I was. I will now reduce my entire existence down to a single cliché and tell you that I came to realize that the real person i was trying to convince about who i wanted to be seen as was, in fact, myself. Each new beginning was a clean slate i could fill up with a point of view, not of my own, but of the person i hoped to become. I saw my blog as a way to fake it till could make it, a place where i could fake smile when I was sad till i was once again happy. Wow, that was more like, four or five clichés. Well, I'm very complex.

In the past I didn't know who i was and I thought i could find my way by doing things i thought the type of person i was hoping to become would do. The only thing i was doing in any of those blogs that was totally honest was the actual act of blogging. I love to blog. I've learned lot about myself by putting my experiences into a written format that I'm comfortable about sharing with others, even when I was writing behind a veil. Now I can feel the sun on my face and i want to show off the real me in blog form. This is where that starts.