I need these for my (near future) apartment.

Walk, walk. Passion baby.

Work it...



...I'm a free bitch baby.

No one ever died from wanting too much.

There's something I love about the James Bond series, particularly their opening titles sequences. The display of beautiful women in expertly constructed visually-stunning themed environments, all set to very dramatic music. It's all so clean, stylish, and chic. There's also some sort of almost sadness behind it all, a tragic feel.

Something about it, chills every time.

2009.

2009 has been the most insane, exhilaration, thrilling, progressive, eye-opening year I've ever had.

At the same time, it was the most difficult, heart-wrenching, cumbersome, obstacle-bearing, exhausting year as well.

2009 needs to end now, so I can begin the next year, 2010, asap. I need a new year, a whole new chapter.

This is why I need an assistant.

Things I have to do before the 22 of Dec:

-20+ page statistical research paper on driving simulations
-dmv coordinator interview
-computer programming final project
-graduation exit interview with the dean
-engineering econ exam
-design for manufaturability and design exam
-finish programming driving simulation test course
-senior design class exam
-capstone design project final report
-computer programming final
-physics III exam

Now accepting applications.

Oh sinnerman, where you gonna run to?

Not your old-fashioned bow tie.

They are insane, but I love them.

The Longstanding Influence of Guy Bourdin.

Wretched Excess.

There's something I find so phenomenal and intriguing about the 80's. Not the typical 80's pop culture cliches that are brought up so often, but that whole "Wall Street" power side of the era.

The whole age of excessive capitalism, disgustingly wasteful, garishly gaudy, extreme selfishness. While it was happening, it was awful and such a bad reflection of American society at the time. However, that style point in retrospect is phenomenal. Evolved Hedonism.

The power suit, shoulder pads, gaudy watches, structured jackets, unblemished jeans, monochromatic colors, overdone bright makeup, bright red lipstick, hard cold severity, the topcoat, the invention of the designer label, ostentatious sunglasses. An overall imposing style, something I have embraced for quite some time wholeheartedly.

This style, refined and modernized appropriately, is what I think should be quintessentially chic style.

Listen and Watch.

Propaganda.

So I was digging through my DVD collection today, and uncovered a gem. I had recently watched "The September Issue", a documentary on Vogue magazine and Anna Wintour on the making of the September 2007 issue. Fascinating by the way, worth a viewing.

I stumbled across "The Devil Wears Prada", and took a good look at this supposed lighthearted romantic comedy.

I take huge issue with this movie. The whole message reads as "career women are inherently self-obsessed and evil". It is essentially a cautionary tale, scaring women into early, submissive relationships. Or, even worse, furthering the opinion that women aren't meant to be the demanding smart overlords in business that they should be. Not only that, it depicts gay men in the same light.

I take issue with this because I have always been career driven. I've always had a goal in mind (engineer in nyc), and movies like this are trying to convince me that I am being selfish by thinking this way. I've subconsciously never given a second thought to anyone who would deviate from my future goals, so according to this movie, does that make be a bad person?

I refuse to think that. Flat out disagree.

Surreal.

Why does the surreal resonate so loudly? Things that are ridiculous, infeasible, and defy logic always speak so volumes.
It's like, why do they exist? What purpose do they serve? How are they used?

The thing is, they don't have a purpose, or use. They just exist to spin my mind. And I love it.

I saw this picture of a performance. It's amusing searching for purpose in things that have none.

gasp.

Girlfriend: You know all those books I have that I don't let you read?

Boyfriend: Yeah...

Girlfriend: Do you know why I don't let you read them?

Boyfriend: No, why?

Girlfriend: Because they are all filled with love letters about you.

watch this. fasinating.

currently obsessed.

Which wine would you recommend with the prime rib?

Does pairing weaken or strengthen?

Take wine, a nice red for example. Can be phenomenal alone to some, but carries a need for pairing with blue cheese, or dark chocolate, or steak for others.

Carry that obvious transition over to people and their obligingly need for pairing themselves off. Some people pair perfectly, are almost made that way for it. Others remain solitary, and flourish fantastically on their own.

Accepting which category one resides in is the key to self success.

A few things that are a window into my mind, at least at the moment.

last.fm

What I've been listening to, in extreme detail:

http://www.last.fm/user/blckdg71

15,120,000 seconds.

Forgive me for the "Rent" reference (ironically because I generally don't like musicals). 15,120,000 seconds, 252,000 minutes, 4200 hours, 25 weeks, 175 days, or 5 months, 24 days. This is the time from this moment until May 23, 2010. The day I receive my undergraduate degree, a B.S. in Industrial and Systems engineering.

This particular job/major was recently rated the number 1 career/job to have in the country by CNN/Money magazine. Needless to say the future is looking rather bright for me. Of course it took me 5 years of clawing my way up to this position in order to be looking into this bright future, but I guess certain things have a particularly high price.

I am starting this blog because I am on the precipice of a very poignant segway in my life. I decided to change my outlook of everything I had been doing and how I had been living on the single pivot point of this: compromise. The biggest betrayal to oneself is compromise. So, in accordance to this, I will no longer compromise on anything I truly want in life.

Stay tuned, more to come of both the past and future.