He Doesn't Know Why

Chil'ens.

Hither and thither.

Oughtna.

All this colloquial Civil War, Slave dialect just has me frazzled.

You know it's gone too far when you call your little brother and his friend "Chil'ens".

Surprisingly enough, I am not Aunt Chloe from Uncle Tom's Cabin.

That book is driving me a little bit nuts.

And at the same time,

It makes me feel cool to read "classic literature".

But not cool enough, mind you.

I still have a tendency to go ape and sputter off vague profanities at the book.

The actual book itself, not even the story.

But the paperback copy next to me.

It's always right there.

I swear, it haunts my dreams.

History and all that.

I eat, sleep, dream American History.

And that, my dear friends, isn't a good thing.

Because I can honestly say that I don't really care for

The Crittendon Compromise

Or

The Battle at Antietam.

There are better things to study,

quite frankly.

But so goes it,

Learning day in and day out.

At least it keeps my mind occupied enough to not think about other things.

Psych.

(Took me forever to learn how to spell that.

People always spell it all wrong...)

If I ever ceased thinking, I cannot imagine the black hole in my brain matter that would ensue.

So I don't stop thinking.

Anyone want to enlighten me as to what "Chamber Pop" music is?

iTunes gave me one of those silly mixes called "Chamber Pop Mix".

And I haven't the foggiest as to what such a genre encompasses,

Except I can now see it includes Fleet Foxes, Belle and Sebastian, and Vampire Weekend.

I never thought the three bands had much in common.

But apparently iTunes' magical mystery musical mapping technology thought they did.

And I'm not going argue with my computer as of now.

So if you know what said genre is.

Tell me, please.

So.

You know those people that make their entire relationship public via Facebook?

Those annoying couples always fighting on there or being all "Cutesy" by ending every status with the date they got together?

(The really annoying ones are the ones that say "i love himmm! /n*11/28/10!! You've been 'dating' for two days, I highly doubt your 'love'.)

And they go proclaiming their 'undying love' 'til kingdom come, until oh hey, they're love expires.

And then you get fifty facebook updates of sulky, angsty lyrics about 'heartbreak' and how, oh boo hoo, when I cry it reminds me of you.

Or "I am so over you, I never loved you!"

Cripes, make up your silly little minds people.

What is this,

A shitty reality show?

Or moreso, a vapid reality show.

And then the little relationship thingy goes from

"In a relationship" to "It's complicated"

To "Single"

To "In a realtionship"

And the ever so touching "I love you babe." Facebook wall post.

Modern relationships.

I don't understand them.

I'd say they're way we have such a high teen pregnancy rate.

You meet a guy.

You add him on facebook.

Chat via Facebook.

Screw.

Break-up.

A disgusting, vicious, and all too realistic cycle.

Twenty-first century America never ceases to amaze me.

I'd like a 60's relationship please,

You go to a dance with guy and aren't "dating",

You can hang out and listen to records before you get serious and actually go with him.

Why can't this happen today?

A) Teenagers apparently just can't handle a 'slow' relationship.

B) Nobody listens to records anymore. :(

C) The phrase "go with" is outdated.

Time machine, anyone?

the 1960's were better.

Let's all go back there and be groovy and cool.

And I don't care how much I "romanticize" the time period (in the words of my grandmother),

I just like the era.

I like the music and ideas and films and clothes and people.

Wow,

What a ramble.

Wouldn't you agree?

You all probably didn't need to know my stance on Facebook relationships or my obvious affinity for the sixties.

But now you know anyway.

Do you like the sixties, you all everybody?

Are you fed up with Facebook romances?

Then join me in my time machine and we'll all just go back to the sixties and get our psychedelic groove on, shall we?

Indeed.

Have I mentioned recently my affinity for

The very lovely guy, who I do not carry on a facebook or otherwise relationship with?

I most certainly have, haven't I?

I wonder if he digs the sixties.

At all.

Wouldn't that be stellar?

He's such an odd person,

And it takes so much not to just completely give away the little non-secret

Of who he actually is.

But if I did.

Tomorrow there'd be hell to pay.

(That's from a song.)

Why are humans so ridiculous as to let themselves fall victim to vicious crushes?

We are a peculiar race, I'd say.

So odd.

Alas, I will leave you all now.

Adieu and good night,

My dears.

Re-admittance:

I love you.

Still.

Hmph.