the El: every time I get on, there's a small part of me that things maybe, just maybe, I'm going to be in a car that will unwillingly host a Step Up 2 (the Streets) surprise subway dance-off. I know it won't happen, but it'd be nice.
driving: whatever neighborhood is between Temple and my house (what is it? Old Kensington?) makes me hate where I live*. Not the actual spot where my house is, but the spots around it, and having to get there.
music: on that one rap station, they have all the weird radio station remixes that feature a lot of air horns and other noises. Most of it I can handle. Sirens though? Freak me out. Every time, I'm looking in my mirror for those flashing lights.
*the one thing I do like about that neighborhood is the weird Native/African/Southwest/Philly-mosaic sculptures that are in every vacant lot. They're all big weird, feirce, pointy animals and totems in bright colors with horns and mirrors.
3 years ago
2 comments:
re. native sculptures: stop being so hip by inappropriately appropriating, sue.
about sirens in songs: many moons ago, two of my friends were driving home from a weird party where a girl got punched by a boy. they were silently listening to the band Planes Mistaken for Stars. At one point, they heard sirens, got freaked out, then realized it was the music. One of them said "Oh, Songs Mistaken for Cops".
I think about it and laugh sometimes.
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