I believe it was the Mistress (if she’s reading. perhaps she’ll be able to confirm/deny) that I had the following conversation with:

Me: I really like Jill Scott.
Possibly the Mistress: I hate that bitch, if she was skinnier she would be mainstream.

There was something in the way she said “mainstream” that made it sound like it was a dirty word. And she’s one of many, many friends I have that tend to equate mainstream and popular with bad or unworthy of his/her time, and I don’t think I’ll ever understand why. These are people that go out of their way to avoid what’s popular and what others like. Now, I understand that everyone enjoys different flavours of music, and by no means am I calling for a homogenous taste in music, but a part of me is almost hurt by these obscurity-mongers. (I’m not singling out the Mistress here, I’m talking about hardcore pop-haters.) Because each one is such a pompous douchebag.

“What, you HAVEN’T heard <>? LAME”

Yeah, I like Britney Spears. BIG WHOOP WANNA FIGHT ABOUT IT?! I’m sorry that your favorite band has never nor will ever gain any notoriety or exposure worth anything, but don’t bring me down just because I enjoy music that is popular. Futhermore, don’t impugn the talent/hard work of mainstream artists, solely because they have gained exposure and notoriety. It drives me bonkers.

And as a movie person, I see a fuckton of movies that no one will ever see, that will never become popular. But I’m not going around hating on every bitch that never saw “Little Children.” ¿Sabes? And at the same time, I’m able to enjoy films like, “Let the Right One In” as well as whatever crap Michael Bay’s producing this summer. Not that there aren’t cinema pricks, but I just seem to encounter so many more musical obscurity-mongering-pompous-douchebag-assholes. I’ll just never be able to wrap my head around mainstream being a dirty word.

Sometimes I feel like enjoying bands like The Veronicas will somehow buy me hipster street-cred which secretly exacerbates my interest for said band, even though I wish a fiery, fiery death upon any self-or-otherwise-identified hipster. So figure that one out, Freud.

I’ve been reading a lot of Augusten Burroughs lately, which always tends to put me in this hybrid elated-yet-self-deprecating kind of mood. My ex-boyfriend called me today to alert me that I’d left what he considered a significant portion of my book collection in his apartment. Despite our relationship fizzling over six weeks ago, he just now felt the need to let me know. I don’t know. He says he kept meaning to call, and then the more and more he waited, the more awkward he thought it would be. I can’t deny I’ve ever been in that position, but I was driving myself mad thinking I’d lost my copy of Edith Hamilton’s Mythology or Pride and Prejudice or my collection of short stories from Annie Proulx. All things I tried, in vain, to get him to read. He was never a literary one, my former flame.  I shouldn’t say that. He had his own peculiar brand of taste in literature. This is a man whose bookshelf is simultaneously occupied with e.e. cummings, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and 100 Best Fart Jokes, 2003 Edition.

So it was a fairly major wave of relief that washed over me when he told me he had all of those things, along with my personally-annotated copy of The Time Traveler’s Wife. Somehow, my unpenned copy just seems…inferior. I like reading my own notes. Some of them are crass, like, “How hung is Henry?” Come to think of it, most of my notes are probably that crass. Oh, well. Our entire conversation was awkward and punctuated with uncomfortable silences. I quite literally had to chomp on my inner cheek to keep from blurting out how I longed for his touch, to keep from asking if he was still reading, started watching, if he thought about me, if it was okay to still talk to his sister, whom I adore, if his hand was feeling alright after the break, if he’d found anyone else, if he was looking. I had to chomp to keep from asking, to keep from sobbing, I think.

The whole encounter added an unpleasant element to my day; I don’t like to dwell on him when I don’t have to. And now I can’t stop. Coupled with the discovery of this fantasic song by The Veronicas, “Untouched” I’m in a downer place. Which sucks.

A lot.

The word resolutions doesn’t sit well with me. It’s like you can resolve to take action in your life at anytime, why wait for the new year? I prefer the word promise. In all honestly, 2009 doesn’t look very promising for Mykal Bloom. My hours were cut at work, which translates into less cash. I can’t blame them, though. I wasn’t exactly reliable this past semester, the lack of sleep in my life greatly contributed to that. In addition to that, I’m taking more classes, which means more books which means more money to spend. Not to mention the increase in coursework. The Dragon Lady and I still aren’t on the best terms. the Ex hates me. the Boy … exists, therefore depressing my existence. My third job at home is pretty much gone, due to the Dragon Lady’s request I not come home. Which, yet again, means less money. Less money means more adjustments I have to make, less I can save for Japan, fewer opportunities I have in front of me. It just sucks.

But all is not lost. I firmly believe life is what you make of it. Growing up, I wasn’t given much, my family lived on a working class salary. Still does. That doesn’t mean I had a shitty childhood. Au contraire, mon fraire. I traveled, Houston, Dallas, New York City, Orlando, Mexico City, Isla Navidad. I’ve been to Washington DC. I’ve seen the world’s largest roll of yarn! Meaning, I don’t need truckloads of money to experience life. And I won’t stop my partial loss of it, stop 2009 from being amazing. So here are a few promises I’ve made to myself. Presented in absolutely no order.

See Jackie Beat live.

Drag has always been this weird fascination of mine. I’ve only seen a handful of shows, but I have been in drag –only once, for a midnight showing of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” And Jackie Beat is someone that I’ve always wanted to see, but I’ve never had the opportunity. She was previously based in NYC, and the last time I was there I was 8. Not exactly drag show age. You know? Now she’s in LA for the most part, but surprise! she’s coming to Chicago in May. I absolutely must see her.

Save at least $2,000 for Japan.

This is probably a lot easier said than done, but I would like to save at least half of my projected cost of the trip by the end of the year. It’s a substantial chunk of what I make in a year — I am only a college student, after all. But I think if I lay off the Jimmy John’s, I should be okay. At least here’s to hoping.

Be a better boyfriend.

I’ve yet to have a relationship end on anything resembling a good note. Things just always seem to fall apart at the end, in a manner that leaves both me and the other person with nothing but terrible memories. Hard to remember the good times, when you’re screaming at each other in the mall. So, I promise, that I’ll work on myself in 2009. Very rarely are people willing to admit that they aren’t perfect. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard, “I’m not changing for any man!” Well, I agree. No one man should have so much power over you. but this isn’t about that. This is about me, making a positive change for myself. I recognize that at times I can be incredibly petty, diva-like, and above all selfish. I like when things go my way, and I’m apt to pout when they don’t. That’s a childish behaviour about myself I would like to change. For me, and for the one’s close to me.

Reconcile friendships I’ve ended.

I used to have a friend, we’ll call her the Whore, because that was her actual nickname. the Whore and I were very much like Will & Grace, before Will or Grace was very popular. She knew I was gay before I did. It was an interesting relationship. Because, in one moment we could tear each other down with such abject cruelty, but in the next we could talk how much we needed that other person. She and I were very similar. Working class families, too smart for their own good, too fed up with petty high school drama, despite the fact that we were regularly pulled into it. We were the very best of friends until college. We came to the same school, and lived in the same building. A mere flight apart. And one day something happened that I never thought would: the Whore got a boyfriend. See, that was the joke. She was so innocent and so prudish almost, that no one would ever mistake her for a whore. So when she got a boyfriend and started acting like an actual whore, it was a cause for alarm. I didn’t know how to process that –having to share her with anyone else. I was jealous. Over a girl. Ew. And when she started to blow me off for her boyfriend, I couldn’t take it. And when she needed me, I wasn’t there. I blew her off like she had done to me. Except, instead of teaching her a lesson like some ill-planned 80′s movie, she stopped talking to me. That was over a year ago, and we still haven’t talked. That’s just one of a handful of friends I’ve lost over the years. I want to fix that. I realize that I’ve lost some truly incredible people, and I miss them.

Get into the Advertising Program.

As of this posting, I am a Psychology major. When I came into this university, I was positive that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to get my Bachelors, Masters, and Doctorate all in Psychology. I was going to counsel at a high school where I would be needed. Where students needed an outlet.

Then I got here.

And I realized how much I hated Psychology, despite my knack for it. Yes, I understood the theory upon theory upon theory, but it all seemed so useless. And when faced with ten more years of the same theories and theories, I suddenly lost passion for my education. My motivation all but dried up, and I found it hard to muster the effort to get up for class. On a whim, I took a class called, “Introduction to the Media” and it changed my life. While others were struggling with the concepts of the class, I was flying through it. Nielsen ratings, box office returns, adclicks, standards and practices, these were all things I’d already read about and followed daily. And I knew, in that moment, that the Media was where my passion was. I knew it. I’d always known it, it had just never dawned on me that I could study it. How Alicia Silverstone of me. So I applied to change my major to Advertising. I was swiftly denied. I have one more opportunity this semester, and to this I promise you dear reader. I will make it in. I even have a fantastic way to celebrate, courtesy of the Mistress.

Take charge of my health.

They’ll be more on this later. Suffice it to say, I will no longer worry about being a headless fat person on the news.

See Mariah.

It’s been over two years since I’ve last my love Mariah Carey. I haven’t written much about her on this version of the blog, but know that I love Mariah. I live for Mariah. In my eyes, she can do no wrong. She is, simply put, amazing. I can’t even begin to iterate how much I adore Mariah Carey. Which is why it saddens me that it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. Whether it’s on tour, or at an event, or anything. This year, I will see her.

Go to at least three concerts.

I love concerts. I love big, loud, elaborate concerts. With the lights, dancers, lasers, fireworks. I love it. LOVE IT! Mariah shoots butterfly confetti out of cannons at the end of her shows. It’s ridiculous, yet why I love concerts. I know I’ll be seeing Britney in April, but other than that, I have nothing else planned for this year. It would be amazing to see the Ting Tings. I love them so much. And would you look at that? They’ll be here in April. One more slot open.

Become a better Resident Advisor.

If you didn’t know, I’m a Resident Advisor here in a residence hall on campus. I really enjoy it, mostly for the people I meet and work with. While I do a fair job, and my job evaluation reflected that, I know I can do better. I know I can work harder to make a real community on my floor.

Blog more.

Yeah! I really like having this outlet to express myself. It’s just I tend to forget about it. My goal for the year is to post at least twice a day, in addition to the Daily Doodle, which is making a comeback I swear.

Speaking of Turning Japanese, is anyone else completely in love with the Charlie’s Angels soundtrack? Yeah, from way back in 2000. That album was [as a Christmas card I recently received would say] primo shit. It introduced me to Deelite, any album that includes Deelite is [again] primo shit. Anyway, it included this song called, “Turning Japanese” by the Vapors, I believe. Short story long, all morning I’ve been researching my trip to Japan, and it made me think of that song.

Oh, yeah. I’m going to Japan. And I’m going to do it for $4,000. That is the budget I have given myself for my 21st birthday present to myself. Hopefully I can divide it equally between money it takes to get there, and money to spend there. I’m really looking forward to seeing Akihabara, it’s kind of what inspired my trip. For the uninitiated, Akihabara is a sector in Tokyo, that is primarily known for it’s shopping. Thankfully, by shopping, I mean stories upon stories of the latest electronics, gadgets, and gizmos. You know in Japan, they have that super-secret James Bond type shit. Watches that double as lasers, sunglasses that are really thermonuclear binoculars. Okay, maybe not. But I just want to go.

Originally, I was planning on going to New York. But honestly, I hate New York. And I’ve already been there. I wanted to go somewhere wild and foreign. I didn’t want to know the language, and, most importantly, I wanted to be able to get lost. Have you ever just wanted to lose yourself in the grand scheme of things? A lot of the time, I feel like I have a very pointed position in life. At work, people know to come to me to fix their broken computer, or my residents know to come to me when life is down on them. And I’m not saying I don’t enjoy that, quite the opposite. I just want to lose myself. There really isn’t any other way I know how to articulate that thought.

So, tentatively speaking, come June 13th, 2010 I’ll be in Tokyo