Young Love: An Introduction

"I'm not from around here." 

Welcome to a new "series" about what I'm doing in my new city. Minneapolis. It's so hot right now.

An outsider’s perspective carries with it something magical. Although I grew up just next-door in South Dakota, my town comprised a mere 1,000 people. So, for me, Minneapolis is the cool older sister who majored in art and volunteered in the Philippines for a year. I met her years ago as a child as I went to my first Vikings game with my dad; however, it was in college that my love affair truly began. Slinking away any weekend we could, friends and I would leave our steady girl (South Dakota) back home and venture up for live music, mild debauchery, and an escape into something more.

After years of Minneapolis dreaming, I finally live here. This city and I are definitely in our sugary sweet honeymoon period, but I do not foresee the wistful haze lifting for a very long time—maybe ever. More than a fling, Minneapolis is my new main squeeze.

This series is full of first times. Wide-eyed wonderment and gasps of freshness are bound to ensue. Here’s to hoping I can help you find beauty in things to which you’ve grown accustomed. Join me and fall in love with your city all over again.

"It’s a curious time in my life. You should stick around"

I’ve just moved to this magical metropolis and first times encapsulate my days. New experiences run amuck, filling my heart with happy and my eyes with wonder. I’ve locked lips on the hill at Gold Medal Park, played Ping-Pong on Nicollet, ventured into Sex World, taken a selfie with the “cherry spoon,” and dabbled in many more quintessential Twin Cities activities. Every day, I fall harder for this city. Perhaps you’ve lived here your whole life and you’ve grown bored with the sights or, on the contrary, perhaps you’re new here as well. Either way, come with me: tour the Twin Cities with fresh eyes and an unhinged perspective. An outsider’s view can offer the clearest, smudge-free lens to peer through, and that’s what I have to share—a blissfully refreshing gaze.

ALSO, WATCH THIS, HOMEY. It's the video that goes alongside all o' this. 

The Deplorable Now.

I uhhhh, had a realization today. I wish I was British so I could say 'realisation,' alas, I am not. OH, no sorry. That wasn't the realization. Man, I bet you were like, "girl, you so laaaaame." Anywho, what I really realized was that when I do not have something to look forward to--something big that I'm planning (most frequently a trip of some sort)--I go absolutely mad with a deplorable emptiness. I get that all-too-familiar feeling of pointlessness and hopelessness and what-the-hell-am-I-doing-ness. There gets to be a little bug flitting around in my mind, bouncing off the squishy walls, whispering to my conscience, "you're a sheep and your work is pointless. You're stationary and melting into the depths of routine. Run... run... before you're 69 and it's too late..."

So, I guess that was fun. However, in this hole, I was able to realize that this only happened because I am not currently planning a great adventure or effectively expressing myself creatively. I took a deep, silly breath and started to contemplate where grown up Karate would go from here. I ended with the reasoning of a promise.

The 24-Year-Old Promise: I vow to constantly keep a carrot dangling in front of my eyes forever mmmmmkay. 

As grand memories of Spain and Arizona and San Francisco float into the nostalgic past, I avert my gaze into the cyclic future. Here, I can build hope and keep my mind occupied with possibility. So, what will be my next "big trip," my next life-altering endeavor, my next rule-breaking escapade? I think it's going to be something monumental. The next 6 months or so might consist of some massive changes in my life to accommodate. Who knows. I'm a careless and capricious soul, so this could turn into a dream and nothing more.... But perhaps it won't. Stay tuned if you're like, interested.

In the meantime, I have two things that helped me get through the day to share:

The first comes from Cara Delevingne's Instagram account. That girl is $$. "You are born and then you die, but in between you can do anything you want. It's society that creates rules for us, but you can break out of that."

And the second comes from my always inspirational and magical friend who said adios to America for the land of Spain. "Always go with your passions. Never ask yourself if it's realistic or not."

So that was today. I'll talk about San Francisco soon. It was magic. And hey, so are you.

Having a hard time in America.

What is my contribution to society? Where can my influence or impact be traced? I have lived a short and uninteresting line with few branches or major deviations. Although new growth isn't necessarily impossible or frowned upon within the confines of my day to day, it is nevertheless being stifled with the pressing matters of practicality and money and comfortability.

Don't worry, guys. I'm sure this existential freakout will pass in due time. I'll be smiling behind my desk, showering spoonfuls of bullshit into my morning coffee, slathering on the façade of happy as my routine encompasses any real morsel of life left in me.

Oh boy. Well, I made a playlist to suit this self-deprecating pit I've dug for myself. It is aptly titled, "Wallowing." Have fun with it, kids. It's a real club banger.

I need drastic change. And I want to be strong enough to do it. Okay bye. 

Weird Monday Yo

IT BE MONDAY AND ONLY TYLER, THE CREATOR CAN HELP.
So that's what I'm doing. Listening to my bb, Tyler. The party isn't over; we can still dance.

Today is weird as shit okay. My brain is all 'where's the party? Oh wait, I hate everything.' My eyes are all 'oh, you want me to stay open and shit? Hmm.' My mouth is dead and like, 'Don't make me speak out loud, insolent adults.' I'm gonna rock this hood look all day. Translation: my winter jacket and hooded portion of such is going to remain in the 'on' position all day. My fluffy hair will be kempt within its boundaries, its shelter, if you will. And I know you will. Cuz you my boo, boo.

God, go home. You're clearly super drunk on ridiculousness. Or just drink another cup of coffee. That might be sexy. Also, well done on finishing season one of Friday Night Lights. In three days of viewing. You're not über impressive at a whole lot of things, but damn girl. You can binge watch television like a professional. Remember Chingy. He was a rapper. Dope.

I was get-get-gettin some Head

Well. If that doesn't get you interested from the get-go, then I don't know what will. WHAT IS UP, CAT? Did you have a sexy weekend? Prove it.

I'm going to talk about DETH by Later Babes. These bitches. They, and the album, are very cool. And that is a compliment I don't just like toss in people's faces or breastplates. I don't know. I'm just saying you should value my praise. Respect me. Dance up on me. Also, treat yo'self. Oh, that is definitely how to spell that. Anyway, you can download this shit FOR FREE if you know what I mean.

And look how GD adorable these mother fuckers are (below). Here's the link: http://laterbabes.bandcamp.com/. Whatever you're doing is stupid. Go download it now. KTHNX. Also, just so you know what you're in for... Expect a party of epic dance-overload proportions mixing all eras, genres, and varying amounts of pure sex. I know, amazing. BYE.

http://yadamnright.bigcartel.com/

WARNING: UNCONTROLLABLE AND ERRATIC DANCING WILL ENSUE UPON FIRST AND ALL SUBSEQUENT LISTENS. IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO LOSE FRIENDS, LISTEN TO THIS ALBUM IN THE COMFORT OF YOUR HOUSING UNIT ALONE. YOUR CAT CAN STAY. IN FACT, FOR OPTIMAL LISTEN, INCORPORATE EL GATO. IF YOU SIMPLY "DO NOT GIVE A FUCK," DO YOU, BOO. I RECOMMEND THE LATTER. WINKY FACE.

What kind of bird are you?

WHATUP. I recently took a trip. A monumental trip that allowed me to see all kinds of birds lurking about and living it up. Fancy birds, dancy birds, frankly who needs pants-y birds... Okay go home shitty Dr. Suess. Anyway, I came to the realization that different types o' birds be everywhere. Let's go animal... Bird edition.

1. Cool with Contentment bird. The simplicity of a full tree above you, a nest full of innocent chirps, and a blue sky to soar into is more than enough. You find comfort in the happiness of minimalism; a great deal is worth singing about.

2. Driven and Daring bird. You chirp quickly and with great passion. Your days are filled with the tasks of a great bird... You might be a great bird. No seed is too small and no tree is too tall. You dare to ask why--your feathers shiver with the anticipation of possibility.

3. Stuck in Cement bird. Your talons sink deeper into the concrete that is your home soil. Why would you try somewhere new when where you're currently planted has the benefits of convenience and ease? You sink deeper. See you next year... You'll be in the same exact spot.

4. Unsure and Fearful of the Unknown bird. You etch the names of dream destinations in the bark of your home tree. Germany, you write, Scotland, France... A tear forms and falls off your water repellent upper cheek feather. Back to gathering sticks and hair to add to the nest.

5. Up for Anything and Optimistic bird. You're the type of feather-bearer that goes with the flow. The West is calling your name. You fly the coop and puddle jump until you're partying with some chill Venice Beach pelicans. Those birds have all the sweet hookups.

6. All of the fucking birds... all at once. In a single day, you're comfortable, terrified, optimistic, impassioned, overcommitted, unfulfilled, stuck, unsure, and 47 other things. Your complexity is exhausting--even to your own self. Perhaps your depth and uncertainty is merely an indication of the boundless future that lies before you? That's what you're telling yourself anyway.


Oh shit, you're a human? Well, my bad. Please disregard the notes and classifications above. See future blogs for human stuff.

New year, new resolve...If you're into that sort of thing.

I've never had a New Year's Resolution. I don't know why really. It seems like a fine practice... setting goals and trying to reach them. That's a healthy human thing, I think. I'm not obstinately against them for any fundamental reason; I guess 23 years just hasn't been enough time to adequately ponder a set of goals I resolve to achieve with the refreshing of the yearly calendar.

I do find the premise of it very romantic and enticing. The fresh breath and novelty of "starting over" is a dream for all, right? That's why mornings feel so good--the promise of a new day can be intoxicating. And those happen 365 times a year! Unless you sleep through a whole day or you're traveling through all the time zones (I'm not sure how that works actually), or super hungover and then you're like I HATE TODAY. Anyway, for the most part, even the smallest renewal can bring out positivity previously buried under annoyance or regret, dance moves formerly trapped between clinched buttcheeks (hehe), and a certain undeniable morsel of possibility that offers the potential of anything.

And that's just on the daily level. January 1 happens once. The biggest and most inspiring restart button of the year. That's why we all get shitfaced about it--because the anticipation of starting afresh is best enjoyed alongside fireworks, cocktails, sequins clothing, and a few final questionable choices before you can really ring in the new year. We would all die of anticipatory "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE because new year bahhhh" without alcohol and hey, whatever else you're into, man. Just be safe; nobody can party with you if you're dead. Oops, got dark again.

Anyway, on New Years, as people turn up and pop off, (sorry about those; symptoms of 2013) you hear people saying things like, "I could totally be a senator; why not!" and "I'm going to be so healthy. Like BANANAS fit. Like I'll lose friends about it." or maybe something like, "It's not about changing my appearance this year, I want to grow emotionally. I'm going to learn something new, like origami maybe. Or how to control my drinking problem."


So... should I like, resolve to do something in 2014? Maybe. I mean, I'm here now; I could just keep writing and see what happens? Yeah, okay, cool.

1. Read. TV is cool, I get it. But also, you should read more. You're a "writer," so obviously this is obvious. You have all these books... Untouched. Start with those. 

2. Travel with an open mind. Different cultures and ideals make for a more understanding and whole human. You should be that. And uhh, go to as many places as you can. You're 23. Someday soon, you're going to wake up and be 60--I don't want you to wake up sad and decrepit from lack of experience. 

3. Quit living a life within your apartment. If Spain* taught you anything, it afforded you the perspective of a new idea of human experience. Their lives exist outside their homes--something that a South Dakota homebody (formerly, I assure you) was like WHAT about. But it is easy to see the loveliness of such a life. You, too, should fill your days with meeting people, seeing your city, and less constant introspection. A solitary life breeds insanity and you're learning that's not always the answer. A mixture of introspective thought and outside interaction is key. Do I sound like a robot? Hmm. 

Did I do that right? Whatever. BYE I LOVE YOU AND COOKIES.

-Karate

*Proof of Spain, okay.