EGO MANIAC KID

...I cannot think of a happier time in my life than when my family lived in apartment 1626, the one with the shaggy forest green carpet and the playground behind the building. Yes, we were poor, but so was the Latvian family next door, the Korean family downstairs, and the Iranian and Indonesian families in the next building whose daughters roller-skated with my sister. There was never a desire for things when I was that age. Who needed things when your dad would take breaks from writing his dissertation to play Digger tournaments on the ancient IBM, or your mom would let you insert the quarters at the laundromat down the street?

I am Sri Lankan, albeit a Sri Lankan born in East Lansing, Michigan. My island is something I crave daily, so when I have the chance to visit, I gorge myself on all that is uniquely Sri Lankan: three-wheelers maneuvering around buses and cows, card games until dawn with my cousins, the smell. Words do not do the aroma of Sri Lanka justice; it is a mixture of jasmine, overripe mangoes, curry powder, the ocean, diesel fumes, and a few unknown elements. Sometimes during the summer when the evenings are still humid, I can smell Sri Lanka, so I stay in one spot and inhale deeply and it smells like love.

And I love! I love the anticipation of snow days. I love the sky in Montana, the color orange, and the feeling of completion that comes with finding the precise word to describe an emotion. I love oddly shaped animals, like giraffes and jellyfish. I love when people tell me I look like my mom, the sound of a cello, and the sighs my cat emits when he is sleeping in the sunlight. I love magic tricks even more after the trick is revealed...

Searching for another file led me to the essay I wrote for my application to the University of Chicago four years ago. I chose to respond to the prompt inspired by Langston Hughes, probably because it was the most self-involved of them all. In retrospect, I have no clue how this got me in. The rest of the essay is similarly irritating and poorly-written.

I HAVE ARMS FOR THEM V2.0 or I AM PRETTY SHORT

[courtesy of Erin]

This picture kills me. Check out tiny Greg, tiny Lauren, and tiny partial Sam giving big love to M83:


Also, my six-year-old chucks have been in a sorry state for a while now, but this weekend they ripped so far up that walking became pretty difficult. So. Maite came through with hot pink duct tape:

I think I broke these chucks in at Warped Tour in high school, so their death at Pitchfork seems fitting. RIP.

I HAVE ARMS FOR THEM

After a fairly chance run-in with my sister at O'Hare, I was convinced I couldn't get any happier for the rest of the weekend.

But then I saw Maite's sweet, smiling face!

But then Lauren and I skipped through the gates of Union Park just as Yo La Tengo started playing Autumn Sweater!

But then Adam was tackling me!

But then there was Alex right behind him!

But then I was able to hang out with guys I hadn't seen since Pitchfork two years ago!

But then it was Saturday and the lead screamer for Fucked Up tore beach balls and dolls apart with his teeth, then landed in front of me and spared a moment for a big, fat, sweaty, hairy hug!

But then I got tossed into Casey in the middle Fucked Up and attacked him with hugs--probably the last thing he was expecting in the most fun/insane pit of the weekend!

But then I was able to experience Beirut as a tall person would, thanks to Grant's willingness to carry me through most of the set!

But then we were somehow, surprisingly, able to charm our way up to The National stage!

But then, on Adam's and Grant's shoulders and with the help of a huge group of strangers shouting her name, I was able to find Lauren and direct her toward us!

But then The National was so beautiful on a beautiful night with beautiful friends!

But then there was discussion of moving to Chicago next year...and living with Adam and Andrea?!

But then Maite and I came close to dying several times during The Thermals, saved only by holding onto each other for dear life and Alex not letting go!

But then we didn't move more than a few feet for eight straight hours, which could have been awful but instead was made spectacular by having badass neighbors!

But then, OH MY GOD M83 WAS PROBABLY THE DANCIEST, HAPPIEST, MOST HEART-BURSTING-WITH-LOVE LIVE PERFORMANCE I'VE EVER BEEN INVOLVED WITH! The degree of camaraderie with the friends we had just made was incredible! Now I like Couleurs even more!

But then there was Gobstoppers coated in Junior Mints, water appearing miraculously from kind strangers the second people start to feel the effects of the heat and crowd, and kisses all around!

But THEN, of course, there was fucking Wayne Coyne in his bubble, masses and masses of confetti, fist-pumping, sing-alongs, dance-alongs, and me crowd-surfing, HA!

But then we went out dancing and I got to meet up with the one and only love of my life and really, the weekend couldn't have had a better conclusion!


I woke up this morning without a voice and barely able to move; muscles I didn't even know existed hurt like hell but in the most satisfying way imaginable.

:D :D :D :D :D :D!

Yesterday afternoon, my cubicle-mate and fellow intern mentioned in an offhand manner that she really wanted to go to Pitchfork. Fast forward through twenty-four hours of frantic Ebay and Craigslist scouring to us buying plane tickets to Chicago. My face is stuck in a permanent smile.

This means that:
01. I get to see my FRIENDS, holy YES!
1.5. I also get to see friends that I've lost contact with over the years--for various reasons. This is probably a good thing.
02. Several "must see before I die/they break up" dreams are going to be fulfilled.
03. I've made a friend in Philadelphia. We are going on a trip together.
04. I have little to no money.


Killing four birds with one spectacular stone. I've been in the best mood today.

DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU'RE SAD? IT'S BECAUSE YOU READ TOO MUCH DOSTOEVSKY

I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor--such is my idea of happiness. And then, on the top of all that, you for a mate, and children, perhaps--what more can the heart of man desire?

--Leo Tolstoy, Family Happiness

So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun...You are wrong if you think Joy emanates only or principally from human relationships. God has placed it all around us. It is in everything and anything we might experience. We just have to have the courage to turn against our habitual lifestyle and engage in unconventional living.

--Chris McCandless