Day One: the Hatred Begins or, an Introduction of Sorts

First things first:
I hate bloggers. I hate blogs and I hate bloggers, and were it not for the music I would probably never get near the internet again. That being said

I guess you're pretty good looking...for a blog.

Second things second:
I hate hipsters. I hate hipster clothing, I hate hipster people, I hate hipster dances at concerts that push me out of the way with their noncommittal arms but hyperactively overenthusiastic shoulders and knees. That being said, every damn thing I like some hipster has already gotten their little Urban Outfitters-clad paws all over. Nothing I can do about it but accept that as long as there is air in my body I will be a self-loathing hipster who dresses a helluva lot better.

I wasn't ever going to do this. This blog thing. After seventh grade I vowed to never start another blog type thing because Myspace is for paedophiles and Livejournal is for weirdies of the Avril Levigne designation that I don't ever want to think about again. I vowed to never step in another Hot Topic and dammit all of I'm not going to keep that one promise true*.

So here's what happened:
I'm with music the way normal people are with love interests; super duper passionate the first couple of months, waining tapering half hearted enthusiasm in the following months and or years, followed by only a vague acknowledgement after a while. The difference is a) mine makes me mentally more stable and b) mine can go in reverse. I can forget about a record and reacquaint myself with it years later and rekindle our passion and it'll be good--genuinely good, not make-up-sex-because-you-feel-guilty-good--for another year or so.

So I'm in round two of my relationship with Vampire Weekend...we're past the humping all the time stage and are at the point where I hum it on the quad, I think about it while I'm painting and I listen to it when I can but it's not new anymore, just very comfortable and pleasing to the mind and body. I'm cheating on VW a little bit with my newest reacquaintance Bon Iver (how many times did I say bonne eye-ver before a hipster corrected me? seven.) and stellastarr* but at the end of the day I come home to that loveable Upper West Side Soweto.

Anyway, I find Ezra Koenig's blog from his days at Columbia through a ridiculous series of events. It's eye opening: funny, well written, insightful. It's me, if I cared more, put in effort or tried. I decide that very moment (well, after having read virtually all of his back entries) that I too will write a funny, insightful blog of some capacity, for some other weirdie to uncover three years from now when I'm doing fuck knows what fuck knows where. So here goes.

I will post music that I love. I will suggest movies that have made me. I will bitch. I will rant. I will bleach my hair (some day).

Soon this:
Old songs that deserve a second chance at love
Movies that will change a life
Why hipsters are destroying America
The blogotheque phenomena and why it's alright
The chick-as-bassist phenomena and how it's always true and rarely good

-WaffleFries
The End

Ida Maria - Oh My God

*I wanted to point out that I was never actually an Avril Levigne mall goth. I was a punk rocker of the thrift store-LA circa 1977-Darby Crash sort of punk rocker, but Hot Topic had cheap band shirts and who was I to judge when sometimes I accidentally wore all black. Fuck them. My combat boots were actual combat boots, and my plaid was plaiddier than all of their plaids combined.