a little bit punk
You know that quiz result I posted a few days ago? The "what neighborhood in New York should you live in" one? I find I keep thinking about it. It's helping me achieve a feeling of self-definition in moments of alienation. I'm actually amazed and disturbed how many moments like that I seem to have. But it's been helping me.
A lot of it I think comes from living in a city with nice weather and beaches, like the cities I've been living in since I was 25, but places that don't really suit me or attract my type of person.
My profile said I was "arty, and a little bit punk." I'm feeling so comforted by that! When I wonder how to define myself politically, whether I can really call myself Left if I disagree with the Green Left so strongly, or whether I have to be Right if I am a capitalist - then I remember, I'm arty, and a little bit punk. Arty left, not Green Left or Wear a Big Sign Denouncing Anyone In Power left or Socialist Left. I believe in creativity and self-expression and humanism, but I can still have cynicism about what it all means or what we're doing to the planet or blah blah blah.
When I worry if I'm worthy as a woman - attractive enough, fashionable enough, thin enough, young enough to still be desired by anyone (esp post-birthday) - then I remember, I'm a little bit punk! I grew up wearing black! My hair hangs in my eyes! I feel cynical about girly stuff like fashion and thinness. We punks think the world is basically fucked, right? And we feel most at home in semi-derelict urban environments, because we embrace human development and progress, yet are appropriately cynical about its success or sustainability. I don't have to surf. I don't have to do E's and dance at night clubs. I'm a punk! We hate dance music. We hate nightclubs. We don't do E's, we drink lots of coffee. We have sex, but we feel cynical about it. We don't expect happiness or health. We have cutting senses of humour. We read too much and have soft muscles.
I'm just feeling so comforted by this. I feel like I can really latch onto that definition of me. I can use it as a filter - "Should I worry about calling Mercedes Boy or him calling me? No! I belong in the East Village drinking coffee, not on the arm of some overdressed scatty wanker!" Or, "Should I start going to the gym at 5am so that my arms are as hard as my boss's who's a long-distance maniac bicyclist? No! I'm a punk, and an academic on the weekends. We have soft bodies! It's what we do!" Or, "Will any boy ever like me? Should I be going for short meaningless flings or hold out for someone who's actually husband material? Did I actually want a husband and kids, and should I fell devastated now that I have neither? NO! The world is fucked! A nuclear war could start any time! Maggie Thatcher is closing the mines and privatising the public utilities (well, she was back when we were all being punks), and anyway we're all fucked! Don't worry yourself about husbands and babies, how impossibly suburban and bourgeois. Just sit here amidst this urban decay drinking coffee and being clever until the apocalypse comes."
Maybe it's a feature of being forty-something. You finally begin to know yourself, which also means knowing who you are not.
We're desperate. Get used to it.
A lot of it I think comes from living in a city with nice weather and beaches, like the cities I've been living in since I was 25, but places that don't really suit me or attract my type of person.
My profile said I was "arty, and a little bit punk." I'm feeling so comforted by that! When I wonder how to define myself politically, whether I can really call myself Left if I disagree with the Green Left so strongly, or whether I have to be Right if I am a capitalist - then I remember, I'm arty, and a little bit punk. Arty left, not Green Left or Wear a Big Sign Denouncing Anyone In Power left or Socialist Left. I believe in creativity and self-expression and humanism, but I can still have cynicism about what it all means or what we're doing to the planet or blah blah blah.
When I worry if I'm worthy as a woman - attractive enough, fashionable enough, thin enough, young enough to still be desired by anyone (esp post-birthday) - then I remember, I'm a little bit punk! I grew up wearing black! My hair hangs in my eyes! I feel cynical about girly stuff like fashion and thinness. We punks think the world is basically fucked, right? And we feel most at home in semi-derelict urban environments, because we embrace human development and progress, yet are appropriately cynical about its success or sustainability. I don't have to surf. I don't have to do E's and dance at night clubs. I'm a punk! We hate dance music. We hate nightclubs. We don't do E's, we drink lots of coffee. We have sex, but we feel cynical about it. We don't expect happiness or health. We have cutting senses of humour. We read too much and have soft muscles.
I'm just feeling so comforted by this. I feel like I can really latch onto that definition of me. I can use it as a filter - "Should I worry about calling Mercedes Boy or him calling me? No! I belong in the East Village drinking coffee, not on the arm of some overdressed scatty wanker!" Or, "Should I start going to the gym at 5am so that my arms are as hard as my boss's who's a long-distance maniac bicyclist? No! I'm a punk, and an academic on the weekends. We have soft bodies! It's what we do!" Or, "Will any boy ever like me? Should I be going for short meaningless flings or hold out for someone who's actually husband material? Did I actually want a husband and kids, and should I fell devastated now that I have neither? NO! The world is fucked! A nuclear war could start any time! Maggie Thatcher is closing the mines and privatising the public utilities (well, she was back when we were all being punks), and anyway we're all fucked! Don't worry yourself about husbands and babies, how impossibly suburban and bourgeois. Just sit here amidst this urban decay drinking coffee and being clever until the apocalypse comes."
Maybe it's a feature of being forty-something. You finally begin to know yourself, which also means knowing who you are not.
We're desperate. Get used to it.
posted by Ellen at 12:25 am
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