Someone else's shoesgreenspun.com : LUSENET : I Wasn't Built to Get Up at this Time : One Thread
Big cups, The Guardian and underground rides - the coffee lifestyle is for me! But if you could put yourself in the lifestyle of anyone or put yourself in someone else's shoes for a day, who would it be?
-- Tim (email@example.com), October 15, 1999
I would love to be a person that lives all by themselves somewhere, hopefully underground. All I'd have would be a computer, the necessary things to survive, and some sort of way of playing music. And books, of course. That goes without saying. I don't really care what I'd be doing, but preferably something that involves a lot of typing. And time to chat to people and read journals. :)
-- Sarah Joy (firstname.lastname@example.org), October 15, 1999.
Oh! I've got an answer for this one. I want to be Al Hoff, girl reporter. She writes for a Pittsburgh newspaper along with being a thrifting legend. Everything in her house is thrifted! She's even written a book (along with many a zine issue) on thrift shopping. Hell, she's even got big John and Ringo statues in her house. If not, Toby Amies. He gets to be on the US Top 20, a show made for a budget of $20, he makes noise err... music when he's not doing the show thing, and he's just damn cool.
-- krysten (email@example.com), October 15, 1999.
I would love to be someone that stumbles out of bed, gets dressed, listens to any random morning show on my headphones as I get on the subway with my dog, and head for Starbucks. Upon entering Starbucks I would be known as the 'regular with her dog' and I would have the 'regular', even though coffee is repelling and only useful to stay awake at night while studying for an algebra test. I would also love to be someone with an old bike, like the ones you see in french movies (usually with a baguette sticking out of the basket), and I would ride my bike to the cafe down the block from my house and read the Chronicle or Times as the morning fog air mixed with coffee wafted over my tostled hair, that I so nonchalantly forgot to brush.
Oh, it's pathetic that I think about these things so thoroughly.
-- Mary E. B. (firstname.lastname@example.org), October 16, 1999.