Day Seven: Ketchup

This weekend was...interesting. The first part of it was spent doing absolutely nothing. I watched TV, worked on an assignment, ordered pizza. I am working on knitting myself a huge fluffy white scarf for those Ohio winters, and that helped me retain sanity while being cooped up in my dorm. I figure that knitting is actually pretty hipster--what could be more so than making your own clothes? I'll post a picture onto Tumblr when I'm done and we can judge just how hipster it is.
I couldn't go the entire weekend without exploring the mystical land of hipster, so Friday night I watched Pulp Fiction. Directed by Quentin Tarantino, released 1994. Starring Uma Thurman, Samuel L. Jackson, John Travolta. Miss Thurman and Mr. Jackson weren't big names yet, and Mr. Travolta had fallen off the radar; Mr. Tarantino wasn't the legend he is now. Thus, all things considered, I excused their current mainstream-ness and decided to see what the hype is all about.
I have to admit, I'm still slightly confused. Quentin Tarantino has a fantastic knack for witty banter and dark humor, but my lack of hipster perception left me befuddled as to some major details. I understand the intricacies of the film, but don't honestly comprehend the significance of most it. I thoroughly enjoyed frequently seeing a much younger, shirtless Bruce Willis, but frankly did not see the significance of his character in the film. Uma Thurman turns in a solid performance being weird and druggy, but again, didn't quite see the deeper meaning. The only two characters that I profoundly understood were the hilarious Samuel L. Jackson and the weird-haircutted John Travolta. I'm going to have to find a more seasoned hipster to help me out with this one. As a cinematic whole, I enjoyed the film. The acting is commendable. The dialogue is smart, sharp, comedic. The directing and editing are quite stimulating. That being said, to me it's a beautiful, well-crafted armoire, but when I open up the drawers its contents are a mystery.I'm still realizing how simple I am. That's going to have to change though, because every hipster I know wishes they were interesting.
But how does one become interesting?