Washing Day

I sat in B cup cafe while rain started falling early in the morning after she had left, and got into a FB msg volley with Adam L. He was up so I drank down my Coffee #1 and met him at a cute little espresso bar a few blocks down.  It was Lester Young’s 100th birthday so the radio was playing pefect Jazz music. The macchiatos came forward presented like true art. 

We spoke about my life and my youthful energetic aspirations for myself. We spoke about love and how he waited 40 years for it, and she was taken away so soon. We spoke about connecting to the spirit and how this world isn’t all there is. We spoke about soul-mates, and soul-sisters, and friends who make this world worth living in. I wiped away two and a half tears off his cheek, and we walked out into the rain under my umbrella. He asked me how I know so much at my age. I told him that age isn’t everything. He proved that by liking my idea of devoting one room in a house to bumper cars. 

And later he wrote to me saying I’m rad. He’s radical with a capital R, a beautiful soul with a capital B, and once again I was lucky enough to move on from being in someone’s presence feeling uplifted and blessed.

These Little Photographs

…The previous few posts of writing are slightly incoherent, poetic ones. I seem to think that these little photographs taken on my blackberry during the adventure compliment those posts. It is a neat way to wrap up the slightly too artsy to some way of documenting what I’ve been doing. And now I can go on to proper story telling and quality photos…

Eerie-tales

My life is an open book, and I did make that decision to fill it up with tales of wonderful life experience. However, sometimes I wonder how the plot lines turn up three degrees away from the foreshadowed themes. I am also very susceptible to the the power of suggestion; even and especially it’s self imposed. I can convince myself of almost anything and sometimes that means opinion-whiplash in hindsight. All of a sudden I see how those compliments were really not just comfort compliments. There is a lot more to them, and that makes me Bug. She thought I was her because I really like him.

Twisted & Twister

I don’t like thinking that everything happens for a reason. The neatly tied up box with a ribbon at the top form of life events is not something that makes a lot of cameos in my life. I asked one hundred times when the last night I could be here was, and I had a clean response of Saturday night. But then she decided to move the break the wall and take out the furniture day to 7 a.m. on Friday. 7 a.m. might have been forgivable somehow if I had not already nodded to houseguests. More people have air mattresses than I would have thought. And I lugged them in the monsoon downpours to the winery for them. (people are sometimes awesome- I’m starting to think these sort of people are what the word friend was intended for). 

The assholes decided to book hotel rooms instead. Rosi and I headed to a diner for an all american grilled cheese sandwich cut in triangles and all just like middle school. This was after she recorded in an all american superstar studio. ‘”I went down on him,” she said.’ and “Let’s go find some assholes.” were just two of the funny things she came up with that evening. 

See, assholes or not we both had anxiety at the same time for our boys in the sky. Our fears and mindsets are constantly colliding. It’s great stuff. 

So we went to find the boys in the west village for some drinks. Because no-one really is sober. And we got to laugh and try on different hats for a while. She kissed him and he kissed me and geometrical shapes are starting to encroach on our lives in the oddest forms.

Clear Channel

The weather refused to predict nothing but rain. However, the Billboard shoot took a few hours of sunshine. Literally and figuratively. I’m not just talking about the abundance of pizza and cupcakes. I am speaking of the absolute thrill I had watching the five cameras collaborating to shoot Rosi with the most beautiful direction. He was definitely insane and a mad scientist of sorts, but it was amazing to watch him at work and I understood what it was all about. The light, the shadows, the swooping, the timing with the music and the unexpected angles had me completely mesmerized. I practically skipped to work (an hour late) like a five year old little boy who had gotten to see the inside of a fire truck. And it turns out the producer was a lady named Chris and she tour managed a bunch of bands like The Strokes and I think even Bright Eyes, and I need to talk to her about it.

 

1st Aid

Drama Drama Drama.

It follows me everywhere, though when I step back and sip tea I realize I’m decidedly alone as soon as I walk away from all the action in the Drama I encounter outside. The winery is only three months old, and the crew of employees are even younger in the sense of our knowing each-other, and yet people have already left, people have already been fired, and more than one pair have slept together. So it seems that wine and cheese or wine and music are not the only thing fated to be drawn together inside the 25,000 square feet one block north of Soho. I work hard in general in life. I am aware of problems in situations and with people, and rush to their Aid First. But in romance I think of, but don’t Act. And I think too late, at that. But maybe it’s my blessing in disguise. Instead of getting wrapped up in situations, I get to marvel at everyone else’s, be their conscious, be their guide, help write the Script, play a supporting Role. And walk home alone, out of the Scene before some haunted Director shouts out ‘Cut!’ But right here in this moment of reflection of past and present, I wish I was the one walking the tightrope, even with the fear of the fall, because then at least my aches and pains would be for me, myself, and I. And perhaps someone would even come to my aid.

Once…Stars & Stipe…REM with very little Sleep

I can’t believe I gave him my clock in/clock out time stub instead of the piece of yellow notebook paper torn out with Max the Girl and my phone number scribbled on it. I realized so this morning when I found my own number in my pocket. Jeez. Of course. I always get it 3/4 percent. But he did say we had an instant attraction and that he wants to see me again…so after Jimmy Fallon today maybe he’ll show up. Because after all, our tidbits of drunken chatting were really intriguing and fun even amongst the drunk after party with all the Stars. And Stipe. Haha. I think I’m funny. Bess and Allie and Chris were there and it was so nice to have a bit of Home at Work. Ingrid thinks I’m tiny and I saved her jacket from the barrel room so maybe tonight she will remember me. Josh showed up for Rachel and it was awesome to see him but it was like a pleasant ghost from my past that I wish would become part of my friendly present. Who knows maybe with the teasing blasts of spring air, all those folks will come back into my life for another summer fling? But I’m happy to say I’m happy right now. I told Michael that it made moments like that worth bringing up the Baby. The winery is just 2.5 months old, and already kinks are being worked out, and he is getting thank you’d by the Lucky Ones. Mim & Jakey are married for 2 months. We shared orgasmic wine and chocolate and spoke to Frank about his roasted pumpkin seeds. I love them. They are family. Today I’m grateful for last night, I’m hanging on hungover with ten fingers and ten toes to all the faces and all the fun. And I hope four o clock a.m. shuteye didn’t close the book on the poor fellow left with my hostess hours.

Still friends…of a different Genre

When I met you on the ancient city wall steps I’d never have imagined I’d actually catch you. Your smile made my heart do flip flops. We exchanged numbers and you were in my phone as Hot Matt. A few months later we slow danced to no music in the hotel lobby at the conference when everyone else was long asleep.  A few more months later, I got on that train to Syosset to see you just because I knew you were in the same state as me; it was one of the most spontaneous daring things I could have done that day. You picked me up in the pouring rain and the ride to the house was full of noisy questioning thoughts rattling my mind. And then we walked inside and within three minutes there was a loud boom and all the electricity for miles went out. It was like a message from fate telling us to do something. We experienced what should have been a scene out of a movie, and I will always have it in my favorites collection. We met again when you came on a business meeting and we spent another cinematic number of hours in that hotel. And that was all. We have a magnetic connection, and now you’re moving on and have chosen to make her your wife. I admire you for being able to put your foot down and do this with your life. Thanks for showing me all that. And you’re definitely welcome for memories you’ve now told me you’ll never forget. The end.

What a day to be Alive

Most days I sit at some point during their 24 hour duration and kind of wished it were slightly later or something. Waiting for something to happen or hours to end. And now dear lord I wish everything can just stop and remain in slow motion forever. Adrenaline is only one part of the equation which has gotten us through this week of ecstasy. Who would have ever thought that watching the same sets of music over and over could provoke so much escalating pleasure. I think I could keep doing this for a really long time, and find pockets of secret goodness in each song and chord progression and harmony. And the Laughter. Today after eating at a chinese buffet place in the middle of Alabama we shared our fortunes from our cookies and I laughed so hard that an actual tear fell all the way down my face. What a group of people. What a group of friends. I have one fear right now. As the last hours and moments pass and slip through our fingers, what if this whole experience just remains in history like a really good dream?

The Curious Case of Amber’s Buttons

The way I see it is that there is a dark dark world. Dark as the darkest night, and it’s so cold there that the thought of being warm is incomprehensible. But in the midst of this frigidness, there is a beam of light, and twinkles of sound emanating from a single small house in downtown Boston. Music is being created in the basement, by a group of people who don’t even know each-other’s names or stories. I found peace there, with Amber and her friends. New Hampshire was one of those states which I had never thought about – it almost just got dissolved in my brain in the clump of states ‘up over there.’ But it is gorgeous. Londonberry is really Londonderry. But it is a blueberry, cranberry, and raspberry concoction; slightly tart, with a british accent. Love old, old houses. Love wine cellars. Love music. Love real people. Loved the Journey. 

Here’s to keep finding and fixing loose buttons. Or Life’s screws. And such. And more, and more, and more…

Combination and its Code

I long for those nights when it goes on and on and music spirals round and round. It’s not a jam it’s more of a cozy cloud of cotton candy where we can sit and lull in the moment, experiencing the dance of sound circling around us. It’s happened before and it must happen again. When time stands still and it doesn’t matter if the night turns into morning outside. Because the Combination of all the seconds and moments adds up to a perfect Now. So we basked and bask in it. The lucky ones have the Code to a secret language and they can communicate with each drop of talent; anywhere around the globe, in any living room, or on any stoop. These lucky ones are musicians. They have this Code. But someone snuck me a spare Key. My spirit is intertwined to the source of music; so though it’s usually spoken, it’s as if I can merely Sign. I hope they somehow comprehend this with their senses. And remain my guardian angels.

When there is a will, nothing is just a Legend…

They were all right. There is nothing like seeing them skate at Nationals. The U.S. Figure Skating nationals of 2009 took place in Cleveland, Ohio this past week. It feels like only yesterday that Chloe’s dad was promising to take me along if they made it. Boy did they make it. My nerves were like jelly and my heart was beating out of my chest prior to the 6 minute warm up. My eyes repeatedly welled up with tears, and I was aware once again of how connected we are. She is my soul sister. The pride I felt during the long program was like being on ecstasy, tears keep welling up in my eyes, and shrieks escaping my mouth with a voice that sounded like it was not me. Because I was just so amazed and taken with the moment. They skated with such beauty, such a clean performance, and I was so proud. They pulled up a spot, and now there is so much more in the realm of possibility for them. I was there, I am here, and I will be there. They truly amaze me. She truly is part of me, and I of her. 

At a Crossroads

I definitely have to stop drinking so much.

 Things I want to do: (written with anxious gusto in Starbucks waiting to be picked up to go to the airport, hung over from the wedding, and totally stressed about making a decision about the job…and about to see my old, old grand-folks)

• I want to go with Amber on the road right after my birthday. I would go be paper raincoat’s merch girl for a while, and travel to many states and just live.
• In May, I want to go to the folk festival and experience Texas ranch life and be amongst tripped out happy musicians.
• I want to go on that horseback-riding trip that Mr. James did in June to bring the cattle up the mountain for the summer. Then I’d get to see Wyoming and breathe some fresh air.
• I want to be working for Ryan McGinley and I want to end up traveling this summer with Veronica for that….And then an Epiphany came:
• “Maybe I should be a teacher because then I have the summers off. I would get to work with children that would keep me young, and I would never have the same day. I would have to be high energy every day, and I would have to be attentive to all children and pretend I don’t have favorites.”

 Well, timing really is essential. Even when life and fate deliver what we’ve thought we wanted and strived toward with all energy and inklings possible. Ha. So after I was that aggressive person tracking down the CEO, and working odd jobs there at night to keep the contact… his assistant with the same last name as me gave him two weeks notice. Tables Turn. I had turned to him, now he turned to me. And yet, timing made it impossible for me to accept what should have been a dream job. I need time during my days to pursue other interests. I cannot be confined to one task to do multiples and multiples of tasks for one entity. These are the golden years. The ones where so much experience and so many opportunities can be grabbed and had if my time and attention is not completely enslaved to fill just one purpose. It is strong not to let opportunities slip between fingers, but it is even stronger to let them go by if it’s not right in the macro level. I would like to see myself as brave considering the economic situation and the fact that it is Him and that Place which I turned down.

 

Here is how it went…

“Mr. Blank,

 I have spent the past couple of days considering the position that we discussed, and while I do think it would be an incredible opportunity and experience, I have decided that it is not the right time for me to accept the job. Timing really is everything, and perhaps even in a few months it would be the perfect job for me, but I do think that at this particular moment in my life, during my transition from college, I need to slow down and figure out what the correct direction is for me to focus all my energy. If I were to work full time as your assistant at (edited for this): ‘the’ Winery, I would and should be basically making the winery ‘my life.’ I am not quite ready for such an hour and multitude-of-tasks intensive stride forward. You need someone right now who will jump right in and give it their all, and I need a little time to breathe.

 

 I want to make it perfectly clear that I am honored that you considered me for this position. I also want to reiterate that I do think that I would accept it without blinking if timing were not an issue. I certainly hope to continue working together with you and ‘the’ Winery; to whatever degree proves to be possible. I believe in the venture, I appreciate everything and everyone involved, and I look forward to seeing it prosper.

 

 Have you found any other prospects? I have someone in mind that I think would be perfect, if you are interested in hearing about him.

 

 Good luck finding the right person for the job,

 

 Thank you again, and see you soon,

 

 Max…”

 

 

           

Reply (not five minutes later!)

           

“THanks, I might have found someone.   I appreciate your instinct that the timing is not right.  THis is another sign that you have the goods.  We will do things together, and I think your making a wise decision.

 Warmly,

 

 Mr. Blank”

 

Wow. And just like that I had a weight lifted off my shoulders

A New Year

…life…

Puff & Sneak

It didn’t start or end with Jenga Block Playing in a Bar. That was just somewhere in the middle. This week has been hazy, in that warm, happy, time passing sort of way. I noticed his status on Facebook and decided to surprise him on Christmas day at the Mac store with a Tall nonfat extra salty salted caramel signature hot chocolate with whip cream and a shot of espresso…but I had to wait till he was finished,  and it turned into cold chocolate even tho I begged Starbucks to make it extra hot for him. Sentiment noted anyway me thinks. I got to see Po and the kiddies over the weekend, and I tried to like Bink but he seems so selfish to be the father of three. D&D had a party and I had to speak to my best friend’s ex. Who remains EX in all sense of the word. He’s just not the greatest egg. I was apprehensive about cat sitting, but I took a deep breath and a large sip of wine, and then Jack, and then I concocted a chocolate minty cocktail. The result  felt like a happy pill and has officially shelved my fear of cats. Amber and Tim came over, and I shared my ChocolateMintyCocktail and we watched Marry Poppins. I still remember every word. So I recited it under my breath, songs and all. Lazy day yesterday got to see old friends- the kind that I can go without speaking to and still are close as kin. Then I saw Amber again and we saw Folky Gypsy like singing by Mr. Shmidt at The Living Room, and then we went to play Jenga at the Bar with Brent and Co. So that’s where Jenga fell (no pun intended….possibly).  I’m using green tea and honey and my brain to fight my body’s attempt to have a Cold. I think it’s working. I’m in a happy cave…and my content state correlates perfectly into an alternative understanding of the names of the Kitties here. Sneak & Puff. Inhale & Exhale. Feel good….

Living The Dream

I live a philosophy without realizing it. I’m not intimidated to take chances when it comes to reaching out and reaching up for things on tiptoes, to contacts out of my league. I just figure it pays to try. Usually attempts lead me to gold. So while I sat in photography class this summer and lusted after your photos, I had no idea I’d ever have a chance to get close to your inner circle. It’s funny that good things come in threes and once a topic surfaces in life, it tends repeats itself soon after. A posting on an art job site teased me to email something short, sweet, and sincere. The response told me to be at the studio at 3 o’ clock. Perfect. Because Friday’s are easy. But not when snow decides to try and cover NYC to answer people’s White Christmas Wishes. But it was all worth it to sit in the studio and speak to the darlings that are your team. I hope they fell for me like I fell for them. I wish I wish with all my might to enter your circle, even if it means the snow has melted by Christmas.

That Day was a Wonderful Day

A perfect day might start in dread of regular routine that gets sweaty. It did in my case, and little did I know that after I pushed through running 7.5 miles I’d be running off the treadmill and into a perfect day.

It was frigid, don’t get me wrong. But the sun was shining so strong that we wondered how it can warm us from so far away, and pondered how scorching it must be up close. Vin & Max day did in fact happen. Brunch at one at a place called Egg in Williamsburg right off the L train. That neighborhood is love at first stroll, and I was utterly enamoured. The vintage sweaters and brunch spots and pretty people.

The tea hit the spot while we were waiting to be seated, with steam from the drink and our mouths mixing together to form dramatic poofs. The food was scrumptious, the conversation was splendid, and my mind and body purred with contentment. We walked into that wonderful store with all things Alice, things from households ages ago & past, and simply darling. Now the tiny brass pocketknife sits on a chain around my neck, and the Gingerbread Man stands upon a baking timer. I certainly will be back in that shop again.

I decided to walk across the bridge to get back home, despite your warnings of the cold. It was magical. Like seeing the city from an entirely different world. I was numb and frozen by the end, by my core was bursting with happiness and warmth. I felt so alive.

And then Rockwood was open with people and music and Scott, even though it was four. It was surreal and wonderful. So was the spicy drink. So was the fact that a bunch of children soon entered for a Rock School music show. Little Children starting their music journey on Saturday afternoon in Rockwood Music Hall. It was like a glimpse of the future. Precious.

So Scott sipped jasmine tea with me, and then I went to the French apartment. I entered with a culture shock, and it took a little while to warm up. But now I’ve got a born & raised in Champagne crush. And I can’t even pronounce his name. The scents and tastes were analyzed. Champagne, Rum, and Red Wine. I was happily tipsy and my nose was filled with wonderful aromas when I took my leave of the Gentlemen. For I was tired, and a Lady needs her beauty sleep, so he sent me off with two bottles of Red. To remember him by?

Perfect Day. Perfect Night. I pray I pray with all my might, that this goes forth similarly into the week.

Unfinished Art

“It just takes some getting used to, it just takes some getting used to…it’s all, it’s all…It’s not the changes but the spaces in between… it’s not the story, but the cuts between the scenes…it’s the part where your eyes get in focus a minute just before you notice, the images align naturally…”

Life is so cyclical.

It’s almost comical because you’d think we’d all learn after being tossed around the roller coaster once or twice or even five times. But still we get all shocked when it happens yet again. When we get up all dizzy from something we go through and can’t believe we didn’t see it coming. Even that feeling when I realize it’s already black Friday again. And the Christmas trees are back on the curb, for sale. And my face gets slapped because I’m just too sweet. How much time has to pass before we are fully adjusted to the Light even when it’s really Dark?

‘Tis the same amount of time till that pretty image comes clear and aligned and all the fogginess that makes me sick to my stomach dissipates and I feel happy again. Because that energy invested in a ring around a not so rosy journey is restored and I’m back to Me. Happily me. In between Scenes, cut yet restored, floating thankfully in Space, waiting for the next Change.

Designated Friend

I’m your personal friend, your designated voice of reason when you find yourself so lost in all the frenzies of the incline. From the lovely jukebox and coloring on the table-clothes to the divine group in an upscale diner to the dark room full of dancing people leaving their worries behind with a couple of sensational hours making love to music with movements of their bodies intermingled with others. There is such a rush of excitement and I’m pleasantly surprised by the fascination it brings to me. I’m not a pessimist, I just fear for hearts and protect the ones I love in any way I can. So with the rush of this lifestyle must come some withdrawal, some uncertainty, and some fear that something within grasp can slip away. I remember feeling these feelings when I was madly in love with musicians, and spent some of the most incredible nights of my life in sheer bliss, only to wake up to the rebound. I see it in all of them, even the ones I’ve just seen in photographs. The worry that their day will end and the dream they are living will just dissolve and morph itself into the dream of someone else. Life is short, but it is real, and it is beautiful. I want to help you see that every day. I want you to enjoy the talent and the journey. I want you to revel in all the glory that you deserve. But with all of that I want your core essence to remain. So on those days when you need yourself we will find that inner peace. And bring you back to Center.

Blurry Vision

She was crying and walking on the street and we both did a double take and then realized at the same split second that we were in fact eachother. I am the kind of person that runs on time but lately I have been running late in a weird way. But somehow last night I was running an hour early. And I never walk down that avenue. So fate kind of placed me there at that time while she finished her conversation on her phone and I heard her words about her hunger. So I took her arm and led her towards a sushi place. It’s weird how being hungry can make your whole life seem like it’s falling apart and the entire world like it’s coming to an end. It’s also weird to think how just a banana or someting as easy can fix this. But if you’ve been doing so well and sober, and this edge from hunger can confuse you to the point of needing a drink, then it’s certainly clear from this scenario that God did in fact send me to you at that moment on the street an hour earlier than I would ever be in that area and three avenues west of where I’d normally walk. I get it. Irony kicks in three hours after the miso soup and sushi rolls when at the 80’s party after one mere drink on the rocks sent me tumbling down a dark hole with no clear idea of what was going on around me. I remember bits and peices like a connect the dots page in an activity book for children. I remember dancing to “Jessie’s Girl,” Leaving the Canal Room and eating three chocolate munchkins with Alexa because they wouldn’t sell me just one. And spilling hot coffee on my shirt and neatly placing the full cup of coffee on top of a garbage can because I was scared it would burn me to death. We went to another place where I couldn’t figure out which things on the menu were food and which were drinks. More people joined us and I have no idea when or what made me get up and leave everyone. I just knew it was time to go. I got in a cab which I never do, and I certainly never throw up. I have a phobia of vomit, and the last time I had to was after getting my wisdom teeth pulled and I needed my little sister to hold my hand because it frightens me so much. Last night my little sister wasn’t there and I was sicker than I’ve ever ever been. At one point I woke up and realized I was in a bathtub full of cold water with all my clothes on. I thought I was dead. One drink did this to me. In a way now I see even more why me running into her on the street was more of a gift to her than I could have seen before. That one drink could have been deadly. So I took it instead…and now I’m in recovery.

Narcissist

There is no one more perfect to describe this word. Someone so entirely full of themselves that their walls are covered in photos of themselves, they lose their breath watching a video of themselves, and get emotional while listening to themselves sing. They think of no-one but themselves. They find no value in anyone else but themselves unless that other is doing something for them. They think the world was created and continues to exist to be of service to them and their desires. And that goes for everyone and everything in the world as well. The funny thing about this is that they desperately seek other people’s approval, and need to be worshipped.

He doesn’t trust his own obsession so he needs to get others on-board. What this means to me is that I end up pitying this poor pathetic gorgeous individual. Because he doesn’t even trust himself enough to trust what he loves most, which is himself. So he’s insecure, full of himself, and somebody who nobody should trust.

Swing, Swing

This past weekend I managed to ward off the cutest guy I’ve ever spoken to in a bar in NYC. I did this because somehow I decided to tell him off and say everything I would tell any irresponsible bad quality guy. Which he wasn’t. As far as I know the only thing he was, was incredibly cute. Oh well. I also went to the gym this morning, ran seven miles really well, showered, and came back to my locker to realize I had left my clothes for the day at home. With class starting in twenty minutes, I was wrapped in a towel, with only sweaty pants and sports top, feeling entirely stupid. Thank goodness Danielle is an angel and Dave was home. I ended up in adorable jeans and a Cubs t-shirt. It feels really good to hang out in Soho in that ensemble. Dreama and I both noticed the moon tonight but she beat me to texting it to my attention. It’s kind of sick and wonderful all at the same time that Pete and J’s show this Wednesday is what is getting me through this week. Oh and I get to swing on porch swings tomorrow night at Nico’s party…while drinking alcohol. Adult life can be fun after all!!!

Laws of Attraction

Is that really true? Is the feeling of attraction always somewhat mutual? I kind of hope so. But it seems too good to be true. But I suppose it’s not too good to be true if it’s true only to some extent. Because if the extent does not lead to any follow through of the feelings, then it remains just a mysterious moment of magnetic inclination and then dismissed. Without pursuit. The only problem is if one of the attracted lets that attraction linger on their consciousness. Then it can even become slightly tragic.

Back to School

I’m totally bugged out. Hungover. Whatever. I’m on day two of classes at this ridiculous incubator of a school full of crowds of girls who all look the same and speak with the same slow sing song annoying (and loud!) voice. They all eat fat free cottage cheese with fruit and frozen yogurt and salad and nothing else. Ok maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it makes me sick. They’re not in shape, but they pretend to be ‘healthy’ by not eating, and are getting on my last nerve. I just tried talking to a professor after class and the dean walked in and I introduced myself and tried to continue the entrepreneurial conversation with both of them, but realized that the dean was just staring at me up and down and not engaged at all in the discussion. Ok I might not look like the average student here because I’m wearing all black tight clothes and a red pashmina around my neck and moccasins. But seriously dude, get the fuck over it. Stop staring at me like that. It makes me think you can see straight through me and know that I’m not wearing any underwear. How in the world am I going to survive this semester?!

(In)Significant

I hate all lies. Even little mostly non-consequential ones. Especially little non-consequential ones. Because that means someone cares so little about deceiving another that they’re willing to formulate a lie. Willing to waste brain power and words on something so insignificant that it’s so entirely significant in its gesture to how little they care for the receiver. It’s deeply offensive then, to find out that someone would do this to me. And I think I know his reason too- just so that his pride wouldn’t be damaged and his imaged maintained as the all encompassing able and perfect guy. But his character is so very flawed now, and he has therefore turned so insignificant, just from an insignificant little lie.

Paint My Fate

People always ask me how I know so many people and how I manage to have such interesting, many times random experiences. I think it’s all about not being tied down and being open to meeting strangers and turning them and their lives into something I can connect to. Serial killers aside, I really do find that most people have something to offer the rest of the world in terms of how they live and meet challenges. We’re all just a mass of cells, blood, flesh, and bones. We’re composed of the same substances, but the substances we add to ourselves over the course of our lives is what differs us, and is it not quite remarkable how much and how little we are capable of on that front? And that’s why when I meet people who are merely mediocre and follow a middle road guidebook to lead their lives, I feel sorry for them, and just can’t stay intrigued. Going through motions and doing each step of life the way ‘everybody does it’ is kind of cop-out-ish. 

We only live once. We all hear that all the time to the point where those words lose their meaning in triggering us to do something about it. We only live once. We have an unknown amount of time on this earth to meet people, forge relationships, feel any feeling we wish and don’t wish, travel wherever we can, see all the places we have some innate interest for, and learn all the endless mass of concepts & ideas possible. From the time I was little I got overwhelmed in libraries because I already had this finite realization. I knew that even if I sat my entire life just reading all those books, I wouldn’t be able to conquer it all. And that’s just in one silly building.

Next to the rest of the world, this reality is enough to shake me to do something about this cliché truth;     We only live once. So live we must. 

The Devil

Speak of the devil and he appears. Like smack in the middle of discussing one of my most humiliating moments of my entire life with the boys in a bar, he walks into the very bar with the girl who shares my last name. Brilliant. I guess Devil’s can do irony.

Ignore the devil and he still appears. On electronic sources. Like facebook status’s in my face. And in the form of goodness knows what else he’s plotting behind our backs. His ship sailed but now he’s trying to sink ours and I really wish he’d just run far, far away and never come back. How does he find poo humorous when it was used to make a statement? Instead it entertained him. He is the most selfish devil.

Pizza is not the same devil I speak of, but this still makes me chuckle. “Pizza is my crack. It’s the devil on my shoulder. Pizza is my greatest love and my worst enemy. But I will not marry pizza.” Charlie said this to me when we were discussing my sick obsession with pizza. 

D-Listed

Truth is more fascinating than fiction. It’s more warped, twisted, and astonishingly orchestrated than a horror’s symphony or a nightmare’s plot. But now that we’ve all woken from this bad dream, things seem even more surreal. I may not have been involved, but I sure was taken for a ride. I hate rides that make me queasy, and I had to let the cat out of the bag. Manipulating everyone against each other is the darkest art, and I told you I’d protect her and she better not get hurt. You had me convinced you cared. You said you cared, but so do I care- about strangers who fall on the street. That isn’t enough to call it love. Don’t tell her you love her and ask the other her to marry you. You had your cake and ate it too. But it was poisonous, and I think you see now that dishonesty can’t go on forever, so ironically, in a way I saved you too. Because even the biggest monster must find all those Lies a torturous weight; incredibly heavy on his shoulders. But now you are the hated one, Sir, and your two sweet puppets have surfaced out of murky waters, and are real live girls again. And even better they’re friends. 

Physical Therapy

So my body is apparently in some sort of race against the sun in the mornings, and it woke me before dawn.

Normally this would piss me off exceedingly, but yesterday brought about some physical therapy which has been keeping me in a wonderful mood ever since. The therapy was in the form of a hookup. I don’t get it. He’s the only guy I’ve consistently liked since high school. I met him in tenth grade at Liz’ house where we had a heated game of monopoly, and I don’t even like monopoly. I hate board games. I remember seeing him walk into the backyard and as soon as I saw him, it was a crush. In freshman year of college we finally hooked up. The way that happened was a late night phone-call, which led to me getting in a late night cab down to his dorm. I was the one taking charge, he didn’t know any tricks, and still I thought he was magnificent. We are an unlikely team. He is preppy, snobby, suit-wearing rich boy. I am a free loving, carefree, imagination, music, & romance driven middle class girl. And therefore, in my mind, in his mind, I was just an adventure. It’s almost like those English literature themes where his family & friends would never approve. But something has kept us consistently speaking and periodically hooking up. The one thing that had kept my feelings at bay was that he’s not as experienced. But last night he took that off the con list, and there are only pros. His new flat on St. Marks is all empty, freshly painted, with a beautiful brick wall, and calming murmurs of people speaking outside. It felt like a movie scene somewhere in Europe as the sun went down & we came back from happy hour…and He has definitely learned new tricks.

My feelings are fresh ‘not at bay.’ And now I’m left wondering…what if, just maybe, we possibly liked each other?? 

A Tale of Random

It started as a Masquerade party with the greatest couple on earth. We were dressed to the nines with some attitude, suspenders paired with an undershirt and top hat. A chic lace dress with a daring mask, and me in a dress and high heeled shoes, which automatically is a statement. The pretentious folks throwing the party in their lovely flat which spills right out of the elevator, took the idea of a house party and stuck it’s snobby nose way up in the air. To the point where it was comical for me to observe. From the bouncer positioned outside to the ‘list’ and the ‘event.’ To the opaquely dark lit floor creating a sheer insight to the concept of ‘trying too hard.’ And the sushi. And cash bar. And seriously, what the fuck is a folky Tracy Chapman sounding girl singing on a guitar moodily in the corner doing there? This was a jagged edged puzzle with pieces not aligning in the slightest.

We did not stay too long, because drunk sloppy pretentious people stumbling over their own feet because their chins were blocking their view from their perch up high in the air, was simply not our scene. The D.J. was admittedly more than decent, but it was time to move on. So we headed down to Bar 13, and when the words “cover charge” were spoken at the door, I decided I’d have a rendezvous with Max Brenner & his orgasmic chocolate and meet up with the Greatests later.

Marching down the street armed with a getup, which would never be owned by me- a flouncy goddess dress, and the most daring yet darling high heeled shoes- I was bound toward the best form of adultery- a rendezvous with Max Brenner’s orgasmic chocolate creations. But on the way a blond little fellow, with The Little Prince ‘look’ spoke to me. “Where are you going tonight? And why are you heading away from that bar.” I explained that I was not about to spend money on a cover to spend more on drinks, to which he responded with complete agreement, claiming that this was his exact reasoning.
I said “I want chocolate.” He said “I’m gay, I like chocolate too”
and offered me his arm, and together we marched happily down the street in the direction of the Chocolate Orgasm Maker Store. I might point out that no part of my right or left mind would ever do this with a random guy on the streets of New York if he had not said he was gay. But this reality put me at complete ease, and I was filled with happiness. Happiness slightly sloped when we were informed that 1:00 a.m. is closing time for Mr. Brenner, but my new friend, Matt, quickly appeased my sad eyes with the reminder that Walgreens has lots of chocolate, and that will do.

An authentic gentleman, to his core, Matt made sure I walked first, besides for when we entered a revolving door. He explained that in this case it was proper for him to make sure he was before me to push the door. Wow. The chocolate was slightly melted, so he broke pieces off for me to pick at. His fingers could get dirty, but mine were to be protected. I felt so comfortable. He is fluent in German, speaks Icelandic, and dabbles in other languages as well. He has toured parts of the globe with musical theatre, and seen the wine country extensively in the south of France. We walked along in search of a place at that hour which would serve amazing red wine, preferably outdoors.

After several attempts at some of Matt’s ideas, we landed at a big bold wrought set of doors with no name, and we walked into a gloriously decorated bar which mimicked certain speakeasy styles. He ordered a ginger infused cocktail. I ordered the glass of bold Red which he recommended, and were conversed some of the morning away. We discussed practical application for the theoretical, and merging creativity with intellect. We were in a comfort zone, and I was so thankful. I noticed that this comfort oozes out of Matt, for during the short time we spent, several interesting conversations were had with us and others…strangers. It is one of those overused/clichés/ideologies that every girl needs a gay best friend…but if this is one more ‘check’ in my life…I’m certainly not complaining. I might even giggle along as my friends hear the tale of yet another random Max Story, and just shake their heads in that ‘only her,’ ‘of all the random idiocy,’ way.

History Repeating: For Better

When I let my thoughts drift back and and float from crushes and ‘loves’ starting from the very first one I’ve ever had, it’s hilarious, nostalgic, and oddly comforting. It is a fact and common belief that there is nothing like the first love. That first feeling of thinking that guy is the be all and end all of what my heart beats for. The innocent certainty that I can spend the rest of my life with him. But I was just ten years old. And though I never believed there would be anyone else to make my stomach drop like that when he walked into the room, the procession of life knew better, and proved me wrong. And when the next lad came into my life I thought the same thing, the feelings were so intense and I saw not how my life could go on if he was not half of it.

 

over and over

But I’m sure that many can relate to this recurring reality of such authentic passionate feelings. And in a way each time we have those feelings that there will never again be someone we’d fall for like that, it is true. Each person that we come across in this fashion in our lives will always hold a unique part of our heart. Because each period in our lives, we are a different version of ourselves, and perhaps each version has the capacity to love someone else.

So we mustn’t lose hope when hurt shows its face and we feel that our heart is broken in two or more pieces, because that just means we are alive and feeling. And so long as we are alive and feeling, time truly heals, and with that renewal comes every possibility and probability of new, better, love.  And now I’ll retrace every time I’ve used the word ‘love’ and contradict it.

Because the point of it all- the journey of falling in ‘love’- is that those loves are a different form of love than we hope to have in our future. Because though history repeats itself and love reappears in different forms and intensities, hopefully it just keeps getting Better. Until it’s entirely Real. For Life.

History Repeating: For Worse

For Better or for Worse History Repeats itself. And so does Human Behavior.

For worse, if he lost his temper and yelled horrible things to you and was so selfish that your crying was too much for him to deal with, so that his hands found their way around your neck while he just kept yelling at you in anger, it is not just an isolated freakish incident. It is him. It is the darkest secret part of him which he keeps wrapped up and hidden away under his ‘laid back demeanor.’ And I don’t ever want to call you lucky for experiencing what you did, but at least you now know the truth. He crossed the line of control, and once that kind of behavior is let out and displayed, the jig is up. He isn’t the person you thought he was. He is someone entirely different from the person you have loved until now. You can reflect on your sweet memories and pick out aspects you hope to have mimicked in your future, but you cannot fool yourself into thinking you can take him back. You cannot. Because now you know you’d not be taking him back. You’d be taking back a stranger.

A-Muse-D

Why is it that I need to force expressing myself to certain people to try and build a connection when there are people out there who think the same way I do? And please know that I am not in the least bit bitter, rather amused (haha I’m also a muse to some) by it. I guess the problem is that people who realize I get them use me for advice and take that advice and use it to get the people who don’t get them. This is why they say love makes the world go round. Because people are moving forcefully forward in attempt to get their dream and vision of love they want, they move forward away from what may be rational, and chase their fairy tale. Everyone is doing so, everyone is chasing something, and this makes the world actually move around. Pretty cool & sick all at the same time, aye?

Shit & Giggles

People fall into our lives when we least expect it. That’s why on Myspace, even a bunch of years ago, when I first created my profile, before it was so full of garbage, and when it was still all about the music…I answered the bit of ‘who I would like to meet’ by saying “Usually the most interesting and important people that you come across, are the ones you had no intention of meeting in the first place…” I still believe in my own words, because life keeps proving them to me. You don’t expect to adore the person your friend cheats on your other friend with. But we have so much in common and and there are so many sides to each persons’ story. Nothing is black and white, and it is all colorful and quite an intricate 3-D, and possibly 4-D display. If you focus on all the light and shadows,  you start to notice  things which you had never seen before. So yes, I’ve shared a PBR, a tequila shot, a pomegranate martini, quite a few vodka and lime’s, and a wonderful beer called Ayinger Brau Weisse with her. And lots of intelligent conversation. And I keep meeting more friends, for she surrounds herself with some of the greatest people. And I hope to keep on doing so. So, Cheers!

Gone

They’re gone. They’ve moved on.

Music @ the Museum

She reminds me of a storybook character like Belle from Beauty and the Beast who popped out of the pages and came to sit here in this day and age and start singing whimsical songs. Her voice dances through all sorts of ranges like the most animated waltz, and her whole set is endearing like a performance of a child.

Shwa is a candid and hilarious human being. His songs are simply put, but some of the most cynical, blunt, and insightful creations I have ever heard. They are thoughts which I would think and usually not express unless I was sure the person I was speaking with was capable of going for that ride. His voice is intriguing like the guy who sings that song in Cruel Intentions, it’s intense and beautiful. And then if you’d cross that with the personality of a song like Puff the Magic Dragon you’d have an idea of what Shwa brings to the room. He’s lovely. 

Shadows

How much of art and music is actually just a mimicking act of other’s styles? Artists all chase after their own streak and try to harvest differentiation to bring to the table and to the ears and eyes of the whole world. But really the very fact that we’re so exposed to art and artist’s work all around us every day means that we’re not completely original. Elements will automatically infiltrate our consciousness and soil some of the creativity. The same goes for personalities. Being aware of oneself, ones strengths and weaknesses, and how different one is from is from other can just be a tainted perception. Every single one of those girls in my opinion were so drop dead beautiful that I felt every insecurity about my body flooding to the center stage of my mind. But now I know they all felt the same about me and about each-other. When will we get over the fact that others are blind to our imperfections, and that it is ok if we’re different and don’t fit entirely ‘in?’ Because really no-one does. Everyone has bits of originality. But at the end of the day we’re all just in this race called Human. Our chord progression might be a variation. But at the end of the day it’s all the same chords, and probably even the same genre. Every one is different. Yet at the same time everyone is just the same. 

A Twisted Game of Twister

When I was younger my Mum and ten and a half year older than me sister used to call me tall and lanky. When we were dressing up as The Wizard of Oz cast one year as a family, they even wanted me to be the scarecrow because of my long legs and arms. This memory disregards the fact that I am considered a kind of tiny girl and on the short side now, and I sometimes still think of myself with that long reed-like sort of image. But that doesn’t help me when I am being pulled in all directions. I am stuck in the middle and I try and see both sides and be optimistic from all angles. I see the anger. I see the hurt. I see the cruel. I see the apathy. I see the ignorance. And I see the blindness. It’s hard to be everybody’s friend when something crumbles. It’s like a really huge game of Twister- Everyone is intertwined and the game was fun and comforting even in it’s awkward twistedness. But now some people have fallen in their place, right down. Right on those colored dots, and everyone mingled in is being pulled down along with them. Who knows what will be left standing and positioned properly after all this? I certainly don’t know. Not even the tallest, lanky-est, scarecrow-like human could stretch all over and everywhere with ease.  

Technicolor

Rockwood during the day, is just another world. Sun streaming through the windows in place of the dark scenes peeking through the red velvet curtains is a wonderful change. A birthday party on a lazy Sunday afternoon is just what the doctor would have ordered for this case- I’m certain. The family our crew of musicians has become is quite charming and I couldn’t help feeling totally happy hanging out and listening to the tribute to her which the musicians all created by singing her favorites of each of their tunes. So though everything is so very uncertain right now in a macro prospective, those moments spent with the very best people I’ve known was extremely endearing. And apparently I ‘flared’ J by thinking of him and buying that pin. And apparently some other chick shares my passion for suspenders, for she was wearing them with little shorts and I was all impressed and wishin’ I had them on too. But at least Beauty rustled my hair and the evening was so lovely. And really it was lovely, because the only vibes in that room were ones of peace and love. So those gaps, which can make things so unpleasant, are slowly getting filled, by things falling into place…

I think I’ll go to Boston…

At Harvard Square you can almost think you’re in the beautiful bits of NYC; but it’s as if it’s a sample dose of it. There are not twenty people playing live music for pennies in the vicinity- there are two. And they are playing “Wagon Wheel” together and that’s my favorite song, so I have no trouble skipping to the beat and singing along, and even giving them some money for it. The streets are also not lined completely with homeless or random beggars- there is one youngster dressed in black sitting rather contently on the side of the road with a cup singing, “I can get really annoying- shut me up, I can get really annoying shut me up…” to the tune of “she’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes.” (What is it with people and singing random songs to that tune in every state??!- see an earlier post of mine for explanation).

Oh and Christopher Columbus Park was truly breathtaking…