Nick Versus Suburbistan
Jun. 8th, 2006 10:59 amMan, so I had to go to Roseville today yesterday as part of Project Stop Sleeping on the Floor. (Was looking at futons.)
What is Roseville? the Pacific Northwesterners among us ask me. Roseville combines the worst excesses of West Olympia, Lacey, SeaTac, and Federal Way. Roseville is the armpit of the Twin Cities. In Roseville, streets turn into freeways with no rhyme or reason. In Roseville, they think it's okay to not have sidewalks, because what do you think God gave people cars for, anyway. Roseville is Outer Suburbistan, in its incarnation as big-box purgatory.
Am I just bitter because I ended up stuck on the freeway on my bike for no good earthly reason and then wandered around for half an hour in the home furnishings store from outer space, trying to get some help? Well, maybe. Anyway, I'm now busily washing Roseville's dust off my shoes by engaging in sustainable urbanness, by which I mean drinking beer I can't afford at my neighborhood café.
And how am I writing while doing that? Friends, I have rediscovered the joys of longhand. Interestingly, I started working on my cursive again about a week ago, for other reasons entirey, but it's certainly coming in handy now that my computer's broken.
It's really interesting how easily cursive is coming back to me. And all of a sudden, I'm finally able to see all of the rationale behind the things that were so awkward and counter-intuitive back in elementary school. (Has it been that long...?) Maybe it's my improved understanding of the history of text and the reasons cursive exists in the first place, but yeah, it's all gelling, and my hand is thanking me for it.
It's also making me think again about maybe learning a little shorthand--the idea of being able to boost my speed and comfort by that much more is really appealing to me right now. Of course, the actual learning curve might be a little overwhelming for someone who's supposed to be doing other things. I think I'll check out one of the Gregg manuals next time I hit Central, and we'll see how feasible that is.
What is Roseville? the Pacific Northwesterners among us ask me. Roseville combines the worst excesses of West Olympia, Lacey, SeaTac, and Federal Way. Roseville is the armpit of the Twin Cities. In Roseville, streets turn into freeways with no rhyme or reason. In Roseville, they think it's okay to not have sidewalks, because what do you think God gave people cars for, anyway. Roseville is Outer Suburbistan, in its incarnation as big-box purgatory.
Am I just bitter because I ended up stuck on the freeway on my bike for no good earthly reason and then wandered around for half an hour in the home furnishings store from outer space, trying to get some help? Well, maybe. Anyway, I'm now busily washing Roseville's dust off my shoes by engaging in sustainable urbanness, by which I mean drinking beer I can't afford at my neighborhood café.
And how am I writing while doing that? Friends, I have rediscovered the joys of longhand. Interestingly, I started working on my cursive again about a week ago, for other reasons entirey, but it's certainly coming in handy now that my computer's broken.
It's really interesting how easily cursive is coming back to me. And all of a sudden, I'm finally able to see all of the rationale behind the things that were so awkward and counter-intuitive back in elementary school. (Has it been that long...?) Maybe it's my improved understanding of the history of text and the reasons cursive exists in the first place, but yeah, it's all gelling, and my hand is thanking me for it.
It's also making me think again about maybe learning a little shorthand--the idea of being able to boost my speed and comfort by that much more is really appealing to me right now. Of course, the actual learning curve might be a little overwhelming for someone who's supposed to be doing other things. I think I'll check out one of the Gregg manuals next time I hit Central, and we'll see how feasible that is.