The Love-Child

Is thankfully imaginary, by the way.

It was Chloe’s method of entertaining me

whilst I was all caught up at the mother’s house.

So, I can breathe a sigh of relief and not have to worry about puppy pampers,

After all.

(see previous Lovechild post if this confuses you)

Love-Child

The following is a series of texts I have just received from Chloe:

(I said stuff in between, but use your imagination…)

“Ok when are you allowed to talk on the phone again because I bought us a love child spontaneously.”

“ya on a whim, I thought we would really bond over it. But it’s half your dog.”

“I’m walking it now, it’s beautiful, it’s a hungarian pug. I named it lorenzo.”

“I had to name it because they put it on the collar…my phone sucks i’m trying to send you a picture.”

“yes ZoZo is our little munchkin. But she needs a good washing. She stinks right now.”

“where do you think? starbucks. She’s trained but she is going to start running- she’s a porker.” (2 texts later she explained- “O zo needs to start working out- she is a little big.”)

“this guy at starbucks was selling her cheap.”

I’m half freaking out, half thinking this is the funniest thing in the world.

Chloe is certainly not typical girl-friend material, and I think this just about proves that to anyone.

“Trip”ping through Memory Lane

I have too much time on my hands?

I think not.

I think that this is exactly what I was meant to be doing all along.
In over 21 years on this earth I have accumulated an obscene amount of stuff/crap/junk.

Depending how you would define a life’s journey in tangible possessions.

The point is, I tend to think of everything in scrapbook terms and therefore tend to keep an overwhelming amount of “tangible possessions.”

From shopping bags, notes passed in class, birthday cards, photos, pamphlets from trips, movie tickets, random photos, journals started and stopped, notes taken in class, textbooks, other books, magazines, and even (gory warning!)…baby teeth!

So today I’ve been playing judge and deciding which things get to live on as part of my tangible memory of life. And which ones to toss. It’s almost like renewing history. And even rewriting it.

Memory lane is a strange place to visit, and makes me realize how many lives I’ve already lived.

Looking back at things I’ve written, and opening closed windows on thoughts I once thought, and beliefs I’ve since turned away from, I wonder at my journeys and if I have any connection to  the me in my past.

Clearly the voyage and experiences make up what I am today, but when I turn back time with my mind, the essence of me withstanding it all,
is as blurred and foggy as the faded words written on the pages in front of me,
Covered in dust.

Singing to the walls.

Isn’t it slightly egotistical to want people to read my own words?

Or to even assume that people shall?

I think it’s comparable to a singer singing his song for a random audience.

We don’t have a right to have an audience.

If people choose to listen to what we have to say, so be it.

But it’s foolish to assume that things we think are important, are worth other peoples’ time.

Yet, sometimes there’s a little part of me that gets annoyed when I just speak to deaf ears.

I guess everyone is slightly egotistical.

And I’m just waiting for some slightly sort of audience.

Chuckle

My idea of the idyllic chuckle is when it happens after you relate so well to something random, inside your head, and it’s humorous.

This morning on the subway, I experienced that when I read a Jameson ad. I’m pretty sure anyone who has lived in New York would too.

“Maybe this ad will give tourists a place to look so the guy in the map seat can get a break.”

So clever! So personal for New York.

And P.S. it’s the most beautiful day outside, and all I want to do is run away from this building and skip about in the sun…

Mona Lisa’s and Madhatters

I always say how even just the first few chords in a song can bring me back to a moment in my past so completely. It’s true. My memories are so linked to songs and music that I can feel as if it were occurring at this second, what the mood was, what was so beautiful in that moment, and even what my priorities were. Things that were so important then, are so inconsequential now. Time does that. And that night was one of those moments where I felt “it’s all happening.” Carnegie Hall. Backstage. Hundreds of people in that beautiful audience. My friends on stage. And a night on the town afterward. It seems so far away. And so. Perfect.

A Good Distraction

…I was at Rockwood in the back-room while you played last night, and I found myself distracted by the TV displaying your show, because your music was actually amazing!

And I don’t mean to sound like a jaded annoying NY-er, but I’ve seen so much live music around this city, that I just don’t sit and give everyone a chance anymore. But you kicked ass, and you need to know this.

So I looked you up, and Made sure that even in my tipsy state, the name stuck with me. And here I am, on Myspace, contacting you to say Kudos. Now I’m going to sit and listen to what you have posted here, and I truly hope our paths cross again. If for nothing more, than my listening pleasure. Consider me a fan….

Max (the girl)

Little Demons

Believe in them.

Ok, So I did listen to you. And I even took your own advice and applied it to 

your presence in my

life and thoughts.

Your big head and your Demons were something I challenged, and tried to release.

And now you’ve come back for a minute and thrown me into fits of nostalgia.

Because you’re just like you, only sweeter.

I know you want to meet Chloe. I don’t know what fascinated you about her.

I mean, I do know how awesome she is. It just intrigues me how you picked up on it. And is that how you’ve creeped back into my 

Good Book?

Or was it that I said how I haven’t felt this way about music- until Lucky & J came along- since you?

Did you feel threatened?

That’s kinda cute. And charming.

So you noticed I was having a moment last night. And you texted me that 

I’m a ”good one.”

So now you are as well, once again. And the Little Demons have taken a walk.

CLockS

Apparently I hurt someone because I agreed to go to dinner with them and they spent the entire time since dreaming of being in a relationship with me. Ugh. Why must people be so expectant? I hate pressure. My life’s pretty busy, and I didn’t even notice that a week has passed. He’s been going nuts, poor guy, wondering why I wasn’t rushing to his side. What does he think he is? Some friggin knight in shining armor who swept me off my feet, and very basis of the way my life runs? That just aint the way it is kid.  And you are a kid. And you’re clearly not as independent as you tell yourself (and me). Because you’ve been pining for me. How sweet and childish of you boy.  And now I feel all shitty b/c you made me think this is my issue when it’s yours.

Auto-reply: I LOVE U MAX!!! “…cuz my heart wont break and my friends will hold me if its my mistake in needing you” – as originally sung by ‘LUCKY’ for Max  they’ll b back soon…

She’s darling for writing that. I do miss those boys. But it’s all forlorn. Because they all take the same voyage, and I always remain.

Conundrum

I haven’t had a night like this in a while, and I barely know how to handle it anymore. It’s one of those nostalgic, introspective, slightly sad moods. I even took Garden State out.  This movie for me is like nostalgia in a bottle. Or disk. But I do I have a bottle of Red too. ”Maybe that’s all family really is; a group of people that miss the same imaginary place.” Is that what home is? See I’m convinced it might be.  I think about it all the time, how I have to work so hard to connect to my family. And how people that come in and out of my life make me feel more like family than my own. But the problem with that is they do indeed come in and out of my life. Family is a blessing because they remain constant. At least my extended family does so.  I’m “in it” right now. It’s real. Sometimes it fuckin’ hurts. But it’s real. And I need that person to make me feel safe. And Home. 

Drunkity Drunk

Singles is a good movie. I barely remembered that I’ve seen it because last time it was when I was with Tamima and we were both drunk as shit off three bottles of red. And then I kicked my wine glass over, and I was too drunk to realize I slashed both of my big toes with broken glass. And then I spent the next many hours trying to implement the first-aid I quasi knew in my drunken state; with both legs up compressing the bleeding. And Tamima was laughing on the phone with her then-boyfriend. We were both laughing and wondering if I was going to bleed to death.  But this time watching Singles was not as dramatic. (Though I do still have the scars from the glass cuts for the story). I just think it’s funny how that one scene where he’s drunk in the bar and he’s in the pay-phone stall. It wasn’t even that long ago that the movie was meant to take place (and did). And yet our reality with drunk dialing has vastly shifted. Crucial, I know. But it’s odd isn’t it? How now we can just “drunk text” or drunk dial someone’s cell phone instantly. “Back” then they had to wait drunk online to drunk dial someone from the pay-phone. It’s just kinda humorous to think about. Waiting in line to dial drunk. And giving someone the clicker to your garage door meant something in the relationship.   

Almost Famous

For a long time I said that movies can never live up to the pure quality and depth of words.Maybe I wanted to believe that because it seems like the right thing.But now I’ve discovered an exception.I’ve seen the movie Almost Famous many times before, but I’ve just realized that Cameron Crowe was able to make one of the most brilliant movies in existence. And it’s because he’s not just a director. He’s a writer. So he was able to take his talent as a writer, and that depth of perception of everything around him. And he transfered it to film. ”Experience it. Enjoy it. Don’t just fall for it.”This was his love letter back to music.And I for one, connect on all sorts of levels to it.  And not just because I am Penny Lane.

Art & Business

Twice during the past 24 hours I spoke about this.And twice made it that much more true in my head.The reason  I can’t bare working in such a corporate environment’s aspect of the music industry is because it’s an oxymoron.Art is the epitome of self expression.Business is the epitome of creating and recreating standards- for money.And when I say recreating, I mean it; because they adjust things to make them happier. And, I don’t mean the artists happier. By they, I mean Suits. And Suits recreate standards to make themselves more money.

Self expression and liberty cannot easily coexist with standards and money hungry feigns.

In fact I don’t really understand how the first business man in the arts was even able to relate to the first artist in the first business-artist collaboration. It’s two entirely different mindsets. Working toward two entirely different dreams. And let me tell you, the money dream crushes the artist’s dream. It taints what is beautiful. It squeezes out the life. And it walks all over the soul.  I am not living in a total fantasy. I do realize that business needs to be a part of music. It’s just not the most intuitive reality.  And so…I’m going to take a deep breath and hope for the sake of true music that this revolution switches things up, and glorifies the artist.

The Unthinkable

I just ate Honey Nut Cheerios & milk with a fork.

The office was out of spoons, and I needed food.

And it went very well, thank you.

So now you know it can be done.

Hey Jealousy

What the fuck does that even mean?

Water under the fucking bridge?

Do you really think that if we both keep our mouths shut she won’t find out?? 

Why do you even care?

You always want what you can’t have.

When you were with her, all you wanted was me. You could barely handle it. 

(you didn’t handle it).

And now that you’re ”finally over” You kept beggin me to come.

And I finally did. But I don’t know how. Because I don’t have any feelings for you.

And I know you’re all confused. I’m just really comfortable with you I guess.

And now you’re all concerned about her finding out. 

Why??Is she in or out?

Because I’m the other. And actually, even if she’s out,

I’m far from in.

You need to sort yourself out boy.

I don’t just stick around.

Dancing to the tune in my head

I tend to create  entire scenarios in my mind.

For instance, yesterday, while I was sweating my guts out at the gym, and trying desperately to entertain myself on the machine, I saw a rather old woman hobble over to a rather buff young hottie at the weights.

Now, I have no idea what the reality was- in terms of what was discussed. But I decided I did while the scene unfolded before me.

The old & wise woman must have been going over to tell the young & dumb hottie that he mustn’t put too much emphasis on his body. See, she has lived many years and seen the depths of relationships and love and hate. She knows what’s really important.

I guess the reason I figured all this out is because whenever I see old people on the street I think about how they were once young like me, and full of visions of what they could be. They had the same love and rapture, the same funny moments, the same secret crushes, the same fears and worries, the same doubt that they’d ever get old.

Yet there they are, creeping slowly down the street, in utter amazement, shaking their heads at what’s become of the world and the current generations.

And totally old.

So I’m thinking now it might not be exactly what went on between the lady and the guy in the gym. But anything is possible. Right?

Cliché’s…in needing you

All the cliché’s of love seem to be true of me.
I really do get weak at the knees.
 When you sing I really do feel my heart melting.
 First impressions really do count.
 I can’t stop thinking of you.
And most of all, I love who I may not have.
But then again, time really does heal….My heart won’t break.

Everyone knows you’re lost without Rock & Roll

And Sometimes…you’re even lost when it’s all over you.Like me…sometimes there’s so much beauty in the desperation while coming off a high of such amazing music. It’s a part inside of me which wants so badly for it to just stay. It’s like I just want to grab onto the moment and never let it go.

But that’s the beauty in the desperation.

Because when something is so wonderful and fleeting, it gets that much more intense. It’s similar to the feeling of a person you grow to care so deeply for, but know you can never have. When something is out of your reach it’s all the more beautiful.

You are so full of energy, so un-   jaded, and so fucking lovely. I hate   the distance I feel just because of   the impending greatness, and the   force that will drive you away. It’s   bittersweet. I want the best for   you, but I hate when you go. I have   been trying to figure out what it is   about you that is so captivating.   So last night while I was watching   you, I let go and touched some   points.

None of your songs sound the   same. When I told you so, you   pointed out something very true.   It’s because both of you are  bringing certain aspects to songwriting which most people who work together can’t do. And that is full trust and lack of competitiveness. In this dismal cut throat industry, songwriters feel they must have ‘their style’ which marks their territory on a song. So they can’t let that be and write a proper song with full freedom. And each of your songs are marked with liberty and brilliance. They don’t get boring- the whole set keeps our ears busy and loving each minute. Because no minute is the same.

Along the same lines, you come up to the stage with no expectations, no regrets, and no concerns. You do your thing, you do it well, and most importantly, you have fun doing it. The energy spills out into the crowd, and into each person, and it cycles around. The ambiance is extraordinary, and it freezes time.You don’t let yourselves get sick of your songs, because you manage to add elements to the tunes with tweaks in your musical and vocal arrangements, and it’s truly charming.

Your voices are completely different. And when you sing together it’s like the perfect dance. The harmonies are compiled with the most incredible knowledge and anticipation of each other. There is no way to describe the sound besides sheer beauty.

I could go on, but this is looking like a sappy love letter for two,

and I should just sign this post “Penny Lane.”

The point is you boys are fuckin’ tight. I could sit and listen to you for hours.

And when you whistle it’s just plain adorable.

So much more than black & white…

I dread nights like this.

The ones where everyone is doing something because it’s a holiday. And you know everyone is out doing something. But I just don’t feel like it. I don’t feel like going out and being with crowds of too many people I know to celebrate just cuz it’s an established celebration. I want to do something different. But it feels lonely. And it’s not that I’m suffering from peer-pressure, because if it were I’d just end up in the scene. I just know no matter what I decide to do I’m going to feel lonely, because I know there’s this reality of people hanging together for a joint reason. Tonight. And I chose not to.

Blank Stares

All I want to do right now is crawl into a hole. I felt so good all day, and now that’s just how I feel. Two pretty interesting things happened today.One is that I witnessed a psycho girl at the gym (who is there even more than me- cuz she’s there before and after I leave) getting escorted out of NYSC with two cops for the last time. She’s not allowed back. She apparently threatened one of the trainers (one of my favorite ones too!) with a dumbbell.  Yea- psycho girl!!! Secondly, On my walk through the rain to the Lower East Side and Rockwood, I passed two girls who were evidently tipsy/drunk. They were giggling like silly girls do. (me included). And they were walking with umbrellas in the rain. (like me).  And they proceeded to twirl around lamp-posts and laugh hysterically. They were probably laughing because they were thinking how they didn’t care that people watching them would think them crazy, and how fun that is. What’s funny is that they never could have known how much I just would have wanted to join them. Amos Lee really has a way with captivating his audience. I was taken. It was wonderful.I met MJ and she is a sweetheart. Of the most sincere sort, and I can’t help but like her. There are so many parts of her that make me think of me. So not surprising.  But Tonight I Even Ate Pizza. 

Stuck up in a tree

Is where I want to be.

Well, maybe not, but it sure sounds good the way Amos Lee sings about it. Grr. this day is passing too slowly. Last night I was inspired by marines. It’s funny cuz the career evaluation thing brought up some data that I have interest in the military. Subconscious, no doubt. But now, it seems to be showing its face a lot. The Father always spoke to us about the military. His biggest dream for me was to go to Valley Forge military academy (or so he says). And he did always take us to those West Point parades every spring. And I do love a man in uniform (tho not as obsessively as most girls).

  But those marines last night- there was something that hit my core when one of them mentioned that they’re going to Iraq in two weeks.

What little darlings.

 These hot folk,

in hot uniform,

who may not walk and talk (on a cell),

and have charming manners,

and protect ladies while they walk (yes there’s a specific way they walk- ladies inside),

and have perfectly shiny shoes,

They are going to Iraq in two weeks. And it made my eyes blurr instantly with tears. If only for a second. Despite myself.  

No Air

Radio Sucks.

They take songs which have – even if it’s just a small bit of it - appeal, and wring it out. Playing even the most ingenious song every hour on the hour, is not the best way to secure it in a listener’s good book. I’m just sayin…if you’re a music artist, and your goal is to become *huge* and get your song ‘on the radio’…Yeah, I get it. You want fame and success. But at the end of the day- if you’re truly talented- your art does not deserve to be subjugated to being the cause somebody feeling ill. Because right now, I feel physically ill, from the damn radio playing in the next cubicle. Same songs. Same playlist. Every single day. (I’m not kidding!)> I know what time of day it is just from what song comes on next.

 

So you know those ice-breaker conversations about what CD you’d take on a desert island for the rest of your life. I’m now thoroughly convinced that it doesn’t exist. Basically…if you’re stuck on a desert island with one selection on repeat for the rest of your life…you’re screwed.

Mass Eavesdropping

I learned two very valuable life lessons today in the terminal at the airport:1. There are many hot men floating around. 2. Most people are on cell phones, declaring their life stories to the world. While I was just sitting there in the terminal waiting for the same plane everyone else was, and very painfully sunburnt, I did not have a chance to clear my mind because as my eyes slowly gazed around, I noticed that virtually everyone around me was in the middle of a very heated conversation with someone on the other end of their cell phones. So everything started spinning, and I turned to my mom and made her give me a pen and paper so that I could jot down tidbits of my mass eavesdropping.”$2 a share”….”porque es cinco”….”there you go! (ultra loud guy)”…”I’d give her anything from me”…”But she’s just saying stuff I can’t stand”…”You just left your i-pod??”…”They have the best birds I’ve ever seen!”…”No offense, honestly the United Nations”….”Jill and Danna came down, no-they almost did”…”I try to stop by at least once a week”…”Um did you know that she and I have been speaking recently?”… Those are each from a different person sitting there.That’s how many people were yapping on their cells loudly enough for me to hear. In a very small area, too. Yeah…basically it’s pathetically overwhelming to just sit nowadays. Because you can’t escape conversations anymore. Because even if you choose not to speak, you’re automatically thrown into about a million other people’s discussions. By just sitting. Kinda scary folks.  So I got a smug little experience taking down what people were saying. And then the really hot guy sitting across my way yawned at the very same time as I did.  

Wear Sunscreen

When I met you that night at D’s party I had no way of knowing that true friends step into your life in mere seconds, when you least expect it. In just the 1.5 years that I’ve known you, you’ve gone from being just a cute fun loving girl at some party to one of the most precious people in my life. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for. I know this, because I don’t usually have many girlfriends, and you are so intrinsically wonderful. You’ve also grown up so much in just one year. You’re the most- gifted, talented, creative, considerate, insightful, ambitious, driven, motivated & motivating, smart, and not to mention obviously blessed with outward beauty- girl I know. And I know you. We’ve gone through a lot already. Hard times and Fun times. Crying and Laughing. Sleeping and Hyper (ha!). Eating and Starving. Healthy and Injured. (slightly) Big assed and Huge-faced. Carrots and Apples. Splenda and Maple Syrup. Walking…and walking. Boys and Men. Wine and (our favorite) Tequilla. Cossette. Michigan and New York. Dogs and Roommates (sometimes interchangeable). Muffin tops and Bread. Lots of Coffee. Lots of Pictures. Lots of Memories. But above all- Lots of Love. I used to be of the opinion that friends come and go, and that it was ok because everyone grows and changes. But when it comes to you, I believe the part of that song that says “but a precious few you should hold on to.” You’ve become such an essential part of who I am and what my values are. That’s because you are so sincere about how you feel and what you believe in. You are true to yourself. You don’t cross your values for anything. And that is such a testament to who you are every day. I’m truly amazed by you. You inspire me so much and I love you so much, and I just hope that with each birthday I get to share with you, and with each year that passes, we can keep growing and achieving all our dreams. Because something tells me…we’ll always be here for each other.

May this year bring you loads of health, success, happiness, and of course- LOVE!

Love you more than I can ever tell you! This world would not be the same to so many without you in it….Happy Birthday Chloe!

I just want you to know who I am

 Scratch that. I want to know who you are. I hope you even   exist.I’m deathly scared of ending up alone. Maybe it’s the pressure of the time. Maybe it’s that I have yet to take the idea of me in a relationship seriously. Maybe it’s all the weddings slowly taking over my entire summer.  Maybe it’s all the take-my-breath-away scenes from shows and movies where I wish it were me. Maybe it’s cuz I don’t know what I want out of you. Or what you need me to be. AndMaybe this is all because I don’t know who I really am. I’ve been trying so hard to be true to myself. It sounds so easy. Just be who you are. But somehow I think we all get lost. Because we so desperately need to complete ourselves. Because we so desperately seek love. Because while we are searching for love, we lose ourselves.And then who really knows who anymore?But please. Just please make sure we don’t end up alone. Find me and stay with me. And I promise I’ll meet you half way. Because far off in the future…people with canes always look better in pairs.

Infatuation: A Stage

I just spoke to you this morning, and I already need to talk to you again.Ok, maybe not Need. But really want. Desire. I want to talk to you, because it’s that point in our “thing” or lack there of, where you’re oh so intriguing, and built up in my head as something which you probably aren’t.  But that’s why you’ve been on my mind all damn day. All the mind-games. Every lousy little text or IM.You’re the one who said “see you real soon darling.”It has my imagination reeling.Analyzing every word and wondering if you like me too.   

Tink!!!

“ I hereby publicly propose that I be made some sort of official person in the P.P.S. My credentials outnumber the space on this page, but I assure you- besides for the fact that: I always loved peter pan, my psychology teacher in highschool diagnosed me with peter pan syndrome (the whole never going to grow up thing- at least in spirit) in his speech about me at graduation, I have actually read the REAL book by J.M. Barrie, I love every movie connected to the author and the subject, It’s listed in all my interests everywhere, and I even have Peter Pan PJ’s (!)….besides for that little window of a glimpse into my relationship with Peter…I just think that my existance wouldn’t be complete without me being officiated. PLEASE. I beg you, or I might grow up or something. (Nah…) ox what say you?!”

Laugh if you must, but Jackelyn saw the humor in this, and now I’m an officer of the Peter Pan Society facebook -so happy!– ok…yea internship isn’t too happening today, must admit.

Dark or Light

I must have passed about ten couples walking in a mere few minutes tonight, and something dawned on me.It was always the girl blabbing on and on, while the guy stared blankly ahead, or to the right, or at me (ha!) while the girl just went on and on about nothing. It cracked me up. Time and time again. Is this the way the entire female population is? I mean, I bet I do the same too, but come on! Poor guys need to sit and be in the same situation. If you guys think that you found a reallllly cool one- yeah- you’re wrong. All girls will talk your ears off, and if it’s one of those talkity talk nights- you might not even get the reward you’re looking for at the end. Because they’ll just be all tired and roll over and go to sleep. And then, the next day, when they start it all again– they’ll expect you to remember what color their best friend’s ex best friend’s bridal shower color scheme was. And you’ll be damned if you don’t remember that crucial tidbit of info from the long tale of unnecessary stupidity which they subjugated you to “that time.” Damn. Girls really do suck. Besides for Chloe. I bought a funky hat on the street today down by St. Marks, but I’m thinking it might be a big large, because many people at the Living Room tonight tried to do the whole ‘pat my head’ thing, and the poor new hat almost flew.I met some cool bar-tenders tonight too. I decided while Pete and J (who just keep kicking more ass) did their rounds I might as well not be the loner loser and make more friends. Scents was the overly dominating conversation subject tonight. That’s cuz Stella Tocca is now my new fave.    

A story of tragedy. A story of Love.

I’m just thinking about when bad things happen, some things hit you harder than others. Threshold is so subjective. Yet, at some point in disaster, tragedy becomes objective.

I don’t know if this is one of those times. I don’t know, because the media seems to have overlooked the horror of the victims, and their ages, and their pools of blood.

They chose to discuss more about the coming elections, and which person running would be suitable for tragedy.

  So I don’t know where the line of demarkation falls between subjective and objective horror.  

When does something awful shake the core of the common man?

And when our core is shaken, and the pain numbs our body, and we finally cry.

Is it because we have lost what we love so deeply. Or.

Is it because we have lost to the hands of what we hate so deeply.

It is clear that hearts are broken.

But is it love, or hate which broke our heart?

Or both?

Tragedy

I need you right now.

It’s sick and twisted that something of such tremendous terror has to occur in order for me to feel the need.

But I need you right now.

And you’re out of reach.

I know it’s my own fault. My priorities are so shaken, and in the face of such a horror, I get a taste of haunting tragedy.

It’s fucked up how people can see so little value in human life that they can go in to a room of students and shoot.

How can they shoot such innocence? How can they kill with so much apathy?

What were those poor children thinking while they dropped to the sound of so many gunshots?

Where are they?

How can something like this happen?

You would have something to say about this. I know it.

You are a man of the world, but of the true world. The one of God’s world.

I need you right now, and I have caused you to drift.

Please come back to me. I will reach out.

But please take me.  

Pandora

Thank you for being my friend. Here in this lonely cubicle in the midst of people who are actually doing things. I get to delve deep into the world of self-introspection, prancing around the web in a sneaky way so that I don’t give my bored self away. It would interest some that the person who gets to take lunch before me has not taken lunch yet, and it is 2 o’clock.

Perfect Imperfections…

Kate Nash is currently rocking.Last night of highs and lows.Aviva climbed to new heights of bitchiness.Even Mom said so.And Mom doesn’t call anyone that word.She’s trying to get out of her side of the deal, by throwing two foreigners at me. And no I’m not racist, but come freakin’ on. Give me a break.But after rushing through the streets of NY screaming dirty things at her and bursting into tears,And after continuing to cry and subsequently calming down on the phone with Mom,I decided to shut that part of my brain off, and enjoy the night.And I did.Rockwood was warm and cozy as ever.As were the folks.And the music.Success on all fronts there.I even stopped in “the bean” and got one of those fresh out of the oven, just baked chocolate chip cookies, which was a little piece of heaven. And if I was not still in the process of calming down, I would have noticed how hot the guys were there.Ok, I did notice a little, but I did not take enough advantage.Heehee.So I actually got into a conversation about blogs, because I met this guy Rich, and he is a writer, and writers observe and know secret things about people that the people don’t even know themselves. And Rich observes, and knows that (or at least maintains that) people who write blogs, even just for an electronic journal, such as me, really want it to be read someday.Hmm…I don’t think so, but if that ever turned out to be true, then someone is reading this now. That thought makes me feel all dubious and fun. But no- really I think I’m too honest about people here. I’m like a gossip girl queen.Pete and J were fantastic yet again. They have never failed me. Besides for the “sex with no hands” slap-bracelet. There they still fail. But it’s all about the music, and that, my friends, is certainly happening in their department. The folks showed up both looking marvelous in hats, and cute as ever. Rich took to them, and this just was more added proof to the human beings that power couple is. They just click with people, make them feel great, and leave some feel-good-vibes when they walk away. Quite a feat.O…but about the blogs.Nicole, the cute little photographer girl with beautiful cat eyes, was there last night, and she blogs. But she writes in a cool way, and attaches photos which are links to things, and it’s all interesting. I looked at her xoxonico.com last night, and was kinda inspired.See the thing about Lucky’s rejection is that they are all soothed now. It is a good reason- he has a girl. And a really pretty one at that. So all is calm on that front. Matt was cute last night too. The folks realized that. They were talking to him for a while.He’s stamped now. Phew.Seems that whiskey does have positive effects on people. Keep it in mind. No, but I’m just going to stick to red wine. (ok, and a little whiskey here and there).I wonder if everyone feels weird when they realize that the singer on stage is climaxing right there in front of us. Sometimes I’m pretty sure everyone around me does feel weird. Actually, the other day I was on Pandora, here in the office and one of the songs was appealingly different, until the girl started incorporating orgasm sounds into her song.All I could think about was what the other people in this large office were thinking as the sounds drifted their way…Green tea is becoming one of those things I like.But for real.Last night one of the things Pete, Rich, and I discussed was the whole idea of health food v. pizza. I made a comment about pizza and how I really like it but don’t eat it. Then I followed up with a comment about health food and how I love it. Pete is of the opinion that secretly I still love crap food more. I truly believe I like the health food I’ve become accustomed to. Putting apples aside (cuz clearly that’s a bias situation based on the pleasure I get from it due to years of deprivation), green tea liking is another example of how I do really enjoy health food.So there.

PB&J

I hate the fact that I am constantly falling for musicians! I sound like a little foolish girl, which I am.Yesterday, the only way to describe the weather is glorious.Absolutely glorious.I knew it was going to be warm and sunny, but boy was I a happy person. I had a whole plan to go to classes, then the gym, and then walk alllll the way down to the lower east side for Pete and J at The Living RoomPlans change, see.Because after my third class I ran into Stephanie and she said that she and people were going to skip class and go to a fashion show.I was instantly inspired and ditched class to start a little stroll down to Union Square.So I was walking down Lexington with a bit of a bounce in my step because I was so happy, with my hair up in a crazy loose ponytail.And who do I run into?Tommy.But I mean literally- run into!I kinda was out of focus and caught completely off guard, and the scene that unfolded was totally meant to be scripted for one of those awkward scenes in a movie.Where the girl is so ga-ga over someone that she can’t even speak.Yeah. It was that funny.He looked really good too. I swear his eyes can peer straight into me. And they did, and they were checking me out, and all I could get out was;“It’s so beautiful out! I’m ditching class and walking to Union Square, wanna come?”Ouuuuch.So he responded, “Nice boots, nah I can’t I’m going home.”So I basically went on walking with a bounce in my foot, and my heart beating so fast, it might have been dangerous. Ha.During the next few blocks all I could think about is why the hell I would have put my hair up in a loose crazy ponytail. Silly me.When I got to Union Square I texted Tommy saying “wow sorry, was caught completely off good but you look amazing!” I got a text message back saying, “haha, you too!” This made me even more giddy, and I said something back about how he should really be outside. He then texted me “ur so skinny.” If fireworks can go off in someone’s brain from happiness, I’m pretty sure they did in mine. This freakin’ skinny gorgeous model boy is telling me I’m skinny.Yep, fireworks.He then invited me over. I told him that I wanted to be outside and walk around, but that I’d touch base with him later. He agreed with that idea. So I spent the next lovely few hours just walking around enjoying the day. People are so much nicer when it’s nice out too!I decided to go get my nails done at the $5 place, and I got “scarlet o’hara” as the red sparkly color. After which, I texted Tommy to tell him I’m back, and he never responded.His loss.I went to the gym for like three hours instead, which was amazing.After the gym, with even more of an adrenaline rush, I started walking down to the lower east side, and told Naomi Z. to meet me there, instead of me going to pick her up all the way down by the knitting factory. She was cool with that, and I walked happily down, in search of a bite to eat along the way. (Which I found at Atlas- a small but ever full of variety- health restaurant).The show was fabulous. Kevin didn’t turn out, which was fine, because it would have been weird with Matt and all the girls and Kevin. He’ll come next time.BUT…Musician Drama. Either he is a)gay b)in a relationship, or worst of all, c) not in the least bit interested in me.Roar.Pete and J are apparently playing today at the Red Lion, under the radar. They are playing with a band called Sex Without Hands. Which just cracked me up anyway. And J was wearing a slap-bracelet with their band name on it. Which I tried extremely hard to steal.Unsuccessful.He, apparently, has not received the memo about how I get what I want.So I walked with Naomi alllll the way back uptown.

BABY!

It is so exciting that Tzipora has a new baby boy. I went to visit her on Thursday straight after interning. The maternity ward is a happy place- lots of balloons and buzz and flowers. I was the only one there at the time, so it was nice to have some one-on-one bonding time with her. The baby is actually pretty good-looking for a newborn, and so sweet and small. I’m happy I went.

Then I hung out with Dave and Danielle down on St. Marks at the Hummus Place, where we were with a large group of Dave’s friends. Chloe and Fred, a couple there, were really cute, and I hope that this general group hangs out more. It was fun. And thursday night, boy did it snow. When I woke up on Friday there was no chance I was going to go to work. So instead, I trekked down to the gym, had a wonderful long workout, and then met Ayala for a spontaneous coffee date in the Sony Wonder building. Note about that coffee- very expensive, but boy was it YUM! I have to remember that.

And then I took the bus home, and Mum sent me some fabulous text messages about how I should pick up some beer and chickpeas so we can have our own little shalom zachor. She actually wrote one text which read “aint it great to be legal?” It was quite funny to me, and definitely earned some chuckles.

It’s good to be chilling at home right now. I get lazy here, which is kind of good I think. I got my work in tonight, and now I have been spending the past few hours working on Chloe’s birthday present. It’s finished now, and very pretty. I made a collage online at snapfish, with a bunch of photos of us and some of the ‘co.’ as you’d call it. I hope it comes out as good as I think it will. On the bottom of it, it says “Chloe: With you I cry, but more laughter is the sound You’re the best friend I could have ever found.” Totally stole it from her V-day poem to me, but it works so well. I had to.