So I've succumbed to peer and parental pressure and made a blog. I'm shocked to realize that other people want to hear what I have to say, because even though I think I'm the most interesting person I know, I'd hate to be conceited and assume everyone else thinks so too.
First and foremost, I'd like to thank the Academy. Also, hats off to Ben Vermillion: any man able to instigate a chant of his name just by walking into the room will have my respect forever. A slap on the back to Steven Vermillion, whose misogynistic comments never fail to delight me. A blown kiss to the beautiful and illustrious Rachel Jordan, whose laugh I replay in my mind constantly. A hug to Rachelle Hobson, whose guiding light I hope to follow until the end of our days. Three cheers for my Dad; congratulations, my conscience sounds just like you and my homework is done*. And finally, a polite nod to Karrington Taylor, who almost liked the facebook post but didn't. She told me in person instead. You like me, you really like me!
On to my self-obsession. There are these commercials by Stolinycha, a brand of vodka, that pose the question, "Would you have a drink with you?" They show Hugh Heffner having a drink with himself, and Julia Stiles having a drink with herself, and probably some other womanizers and bad actresses having drinks with themselves, and whenever I watch it instead of thinking about drinking Stoli vodka (just as a shot in the dark I would assume that's the point of the commercial, not whether or not Heff thinks he's good enough to change out of a robe for), I think that the underlying premise here is that Stoli is encouraging me to first, drink alone, and second, to talk to myself.
Frankly I'm all for the latter and occasionally consider the first, and if it's going to take a vodka company's advertisement to make having the occasional public chat with yourself cool, that's fine with me. Sidenote: don't worry, I'm not an alcoholic. I just sometimes threaten to day drink if Morgan doesn't hang out with me enough. A story for a different day.
If you've ever lived with me, you'll know I talk to myself a lot--I usually have plenty of funny anecdotes and wisdom to share, so it's almost always a positive experience--but I'm often the source of ridicule for my sisters. I like to pass off my at-times odd behavior as merely a by-product of my culture, but I do find it amazing how blatantly obsessed my generation is with ourselves. With the prevalence that reality tv, online social networks, blogs, vlogs, and probably plogs have in our culture today, it's incredible that we aren't all completely obsolete. Everyone know that as soon as we're all special, no one is. Which is why, incidentally, I love capitalism. I digress.
Clearly I'm contributing to the problem, but then again so are you--ya'll encouraged me to start a blog (where I most likely will only talk about myself and who I think should win on the Bachelor....Emily, by the way, although there's still time for the crazy shoe to drop) on Facebook, where everyone can be famous. It's a vicious cycle.
But great news, I'm undeterred in my desire to tell the world all about my life and times. Mostly because one of the greatest and most prolific writers of all time pioneered individualism in the form of his book, Robinson Crusoe, the first to be about an ordinary guy marooned on an island, and not about dragons and heroic Princes. I'll grant that maybe Defoe isn't the best man to model my life after, he was in jail twice and bankrupt for most of his life, but I have to read Robinson Crusoe in a 400-level English class** here at Tulane. And if someone has to read something I've written almost 300 years after it's published, it's probably pretty damn great.
Also, he has an article on him on Wikipedia. One of the sub-headings is, "Pamphleteering and Prison." Tell me that's not amusing. All Julia Stiles has is some guy from the Times calling her a "young Jane Fonda."
Would you have a drink with a young Jane Fonda, or a guy who invested in an enterprise that created perfume out of civet cats?
I mean it's your call but frankly I'm all about the civet cats. Let the individualistic live on!
*still have some reading left in Crusoe. I needed a break, there's only so many descriptions of building a canoe I can take in one sitting.
**I know I will love this class. Here's why: my professor assigned all 12 of our books as Penguin Classics, so they'll look GREAT on our bookshelves. Seriously. He told us.