six hours

Sunsets are becoming something more profound lately, filling the sky with a certain delicateness affluent in romantic novels; soft expanses of lavenders and pinks and oranges blazing from a bright ball of gold. It is as if the world is saying, 'Thank you for reading patiently through the storm. Here's a little something for you.'

Actual shopping today was almost as worse as I had predicted. First, it was Saturday, it was one o'clock in the afternoon, and everyone, ever, was flocking to the Lancaster outlets for some 'quality' discounts, none of which included anything under $5 (which is the only shopping I prefer). Our first stop was Nike, where I watched a beautiful strawberry haired toddler with the biggest blues gawping wide with some exotic noises. She smiled when she noticed I began to join in.

Then we made our way to American Eagle. Admittedly, I like they're clothing, as long as the giant eagle or the wording AMERICAN EAGLE is not amply displayed across the garment. But, it really is hard to get over the fact that that store truly is the fifth circle of hell. First, why in god's name do they think it a good idea to blare, legitimately blast high octane dance music (including hits from Hot Chip and MIA) into a room brimming with high pitched voices and very tanned, very blond parents searching for they're fiftieth pair of acid-torn, overpriced jeans. It's an understatement for me to describe how incredibly nervous I suddenly became while in the store. I began shaking. And sweating. And, was totally unable to try on the six million pairs of jeans I decided would be a good idea to lug into the dressing room.

It was madness. I quickly picked the pair, gave them to my mother (who was paying for them, because, you know, she's awesome) and left the store to stand in the 98% humidity while trying to stop myself from shaking.

Eventually I learned the jeans I chose were $10.

Huzzahs abound for consumerism!

dusty

(the above is my micard photo, my mica identification)

Holy moley! I'm almost totally packed for school! And I still have six more days!

Who are you, new Mattbarry!? And why are you so awesome?

pricetags

I just conducted my first ebay bid. It was exciting. I am currently in so much antici-pation I could vomit. It was for five packs of sx-70 film for my shiny piece of polaroid goodness, the One Step Polaroid Land Camera, BC Series. It was $1.50, and included two flash packs.

These past few days I have been unable to get enough in my quest for polaroid perfection. Along with the One Step, I finally purchased a 600. It was only $1.oo!

The quest for polaroid perfection also included a romp into thrifty, antiquey, markety goodness, which included: vintage fabric, a checkered shirt, a broken clock, fresh pears, peaches, tomatoes, and green onions, the ugliest lamp, ever (it looks to be swindled from a gypsy camp), three old children's books (of the junior deluxe edition variety), a very colorful plaid coat (which will hopefully be utilized as fabric for a bag), four of the most wonderful, unbreakable glasses, a khaki pair of high tops, and four shot glasses with handles.

Also, in this extended time of shopping, was the purchase of three dvds and two cds, both Kings of Leon. One is Aha Shake Heartbreak, and the other, the earlier Youth and Young Manhood. Both were $7.99 at Kmart, of all places, and have provided my driving time with some much needed bass thumping. Also, I had never heard a song from Youth and Young Manhood, and have failed to be surprised at how good it is. I mean, how could it be bad, it's the Kings.

All in all, I think I spent less that $50.oo on the above purchases.

Why do I riddle off all of this nonsense, you may ask. Well, I only mention it because, first, it seems that I've accomplished much purchasing, but none of it is mandatory for college. That's 'muh bad', but, I have come to the conclusion that for the past many a year in my life I have not really went on a purchasing spree, and have feigned from spending money on more than gas and food. Now, I have realized that I do have money and maybe, just maybe, I don't need to put every sent of my paycheck into savings.

Secondly, tomorrow my mother wants to go shopping at the Tanger Outlets in Lancaster. I believe this to be a terrible idea, which is very difficult to express to my mother without her busting out in a rant on, 'just wanting to buy me nice clothes for school', which will end in goop like anger squelching from her facial orifices and making me feel like a smothered rag doll facing the fiery infernos of the bottom of the toy bin. Why is this a terrible idea, for my mother to spend a ridiculous sum of money on nice clothes for her college bound son? First, because I will be attending art school, with classes called Painting 1 and Drawing 1, conducted for six hours a day. Nice clothes will become ruined clothes. Second, I find that I cannot push myself to spend more than $5 on an article of clothing at Salvation Army. What makes her think I can go out and watch her drop $25 on a sweater, or the sale price of $49.99 on a pair of jeans? Legitimately, that is just obscene.

That isn't to say that I don't like or appreciate nice, new clothing. I do. I really do. Tearing that tag from a fresh christmas sweater, or new summer swim suit is like readying your car for a long car ride. Times are swell in new clothing, memories created and passed and kept and washed and re applied.

But, I can get that same feeling from Salvation Army clothing. They, too, have a tag, frustratingly stapled onto the clothing. Even so, it's basically the same.

Mhmm. Money. How everything totally revolves around you. I hate you. I love having you. Go die.

things i need for college

1. rugs. one for the kitchen, one for the bath, and one for the bed.

2. sink-side dish drainer.

3. the ultimate bartender's guide. for the kitchen.

4. an address book. preferably old. or handmade. or both.

5. bar set to compliment bartender's guide. including shot glasses.

6. polaroid film (for my shiny $1.50 polaroid and matching flash bulbs).

7. trash cans. one for the bed, one for the bath.

8. a neat lamp for the bed. maybe, also, a standing lamp.

9. a desk. probably not. all types of a maybe.

10. basic baking needs, such as and not limited to: brownie pans and cupcake trays and mixing bowls with matching utensils.

11. a toothbrush holder. i found the perfect one at the antique barn, but, when returned to purchase it, was unable to find it. now, the search is on.

12. film for the hawkeye.

13. a debit card.

14. kitchen towels.

15. jeans.

16. twin extra long sheets.

I do hope to god that that is the last of it. I feel like I have much too much to accomplish in the next ten days.

Wish me luck!

i love us

(500) Days of Summer was everything it needed to be.

The End.

the world at large

There are those days that are so explicitly better than others, even when considering the fact that nothing true was truly accomplished. With that said, it still is only two:thirty, and I still have much of the day to look forward to. Highlights of this wondrous monument to the final days of summer include:

1. Laundry, of course, because what day would be complete without laundry?

2. A walk through the park with my dog; a display of nature's muggy finest through the nature of the center of Hershey. The trees are tall, the foliage still full, thick, shadowing and cooling the path of heat dried dirt, dug up rocks, insects. Bailey, my dog, enjoyed every moment. And so did I.

3. Errands with Bailey; to fill my tank (which was impossible because gas is now two.fifty nine and I only had fifteen dollars in my wallet, to drop lunch for my mother (which included the most beautiful display of parallel parking (which really cheered my because it is always nice to know that one is still readily able to parallel park)), to the bank (which Bailey thoroughly enjoyed), and to pick up Super Baby Barry from soccer practice.

4. Taking pictures of Bailey throughout aforementioned errand running. This, let me say, was a terrible idea because driving and taking pictures is very dangerous to attempt to do simulatneously.

5. Listening to the Arcade Fire radio station provided by last.fm. That website is a thing of pure beauty. While listening, it showed an image collage of Owen Pallet, which I found uncanny because that is exactly how I pictured him to look. This brought me to google image him, which then led me to the strangest interview I have ever read. It was a long dialouge between him, Owen Pallet, and Ed Drost of Gizzly Bear. It caught me off guard, to say the least, as, while reading it, I realized the article was for Out magazine, the largest circulated gat magazine in the country, or something. Needlesstosay, the article talked about something I have always thought about: whether or not a musician likes and enjoys their own music. http://www.out.com/detail.asp?id=21164

I highly recommend reading it. Even in it's awkwardness, Owen holds some really great insights into himself as a musician, as well as the musician in general. It's curious, now, to think of how other musicians, artists, thinkers really think of themselves.

Is it terrible to say that I wish summer wouldn't end? I feel the need to live a bit longer, to accomplish just a bit more before going off to college, and now, with a mere three weeks left, I worry that said time isn't nearly long enough. Hopefully I'm merely thinking silly in some underlying fear of college. It isn't so much that I don't want to leave, because, in truth, I want to leave home in more ways than I could ever imagine. Therefore, I assume the fear must lie in something deeper, something more intangible; the idea of growing up, growing apart, moving on. I'm just not ready to uproot everything I know. With that said, I have come to understand that that necesarrily doesn't happen, but, in the regard, I have also come to witness that in small, inspecific ways it does really, inevitablely, occur.

For now, I just want to breathe deep and hold it, hold it all, for at least three weeks.

Then, I guess, after that time, I'll have to breathe out, breathe it all out; making room for something new.