29 December 2006
samba into my heart
as i'm going to brazil for carnaval and fully experience the magic of it, i took a samba class last night. i learned i can pick up moves pretty quickly (which i knew already) but need to practice shaking my hips/ass (which i also knew already). but i had *heaps* of fun, tossing my body in ways i only did to crazy music on the dance floor, but throwing it in these bizarre leaps of heaps that somehow worked. TOO much fun. A coworker of mine asked, "How will you be sore from dancing?" I am sore--my body is not used to bending like that. I was sweating profusely--hair stuck to my face. It was a beautiful, living, amazing experience, complete with live drummers. I'm a convert. I plan on dancing as much as I can afford it until I go to Brazil...and then some afterwards!
27 December 2006
you have those days....
where everyone can't stop looking at you, and you get all defensive, "what? WHAT?" and then you have those days no one notices you, and you think, "what? WHAT?"
and then you have those days where you notice no one. and honestly, those are the most peaceful of all.
and then you have those days where you notice no one. and honestly, those are the most peaceful of all.
25 December 2006
merry christmas
after sleeping for ten hours, i feel heaps better than i did yesterday (think flu-like symptoms, nausea, chills, aching). am now drinking a cup of emergen-c in my running clothes, ready to stretch and head out for a run. i think i'll go along the italian catholic hood b/c it's likely to be a lively scene. i'm glad i'm not missing seeing my grandparents (already missed christmas last year b/c my parents have a psychotic son) as i feel well enough to attend the formalities associated with cousins you try to stomach and questions you're forced to answer as you realize, your life is your life and a question put forth to the entire dining room table will never properly sum it up.
22 December 2006
a good run
had a really great run. made christmas gifts, then went out for a nice long run and came home to some amazing cookies v baked me. (i love you, venessa!) during my ran, while speeding past fortunato brothers (the best italian pastries in nyc!), someone was blasting "i'll be home for christmas" (i think it was the frank sinatra version) and i just started singing along.
20 December 2006
my mom was wrong
according to a study mentioned in today's times, most americans have had premarital sex. 91% in fact. shocking! i like that the researcher talks about because of findings like this (and they go back into adults from the 1940s!), it makes it more relevant than ever for our teens to get sexual education--which, in the usa, is very hard. i know my mother--though i do love her--gave me very little sexual education, and school wasn't much better. abstinence-only education is horrible, as people ARE having sex.
what people also forget is that one of the ways so many women get stds is FROM THEIR HUSBANDS. (related.) you think, "we're in a monogamous relationship..." when he's cheating on you and not using condoms... i'm sure it also happens in the reverse way (women giving men stds) but you mostly hear about the husbands giving the wives the stds. and if you have no education, you may not understand the signs...
it's just really, really sad.
education is key. and mom, i really do love you.
what people also forget is that one of the ways so many women get stds is FROM THEIR HUSBANDS. (related.) you think, "we're in a monogamous relationship..." when he's cheating on you and not using condoms... i'm sure it also happens in the reverse way (women giving men stds) but you mostly hear about the husbands giving the wives the stds. and if you have no education, you may not understand the signs...
it's just really, really sad.
education is key. and mom, i really do love you.
13 December 2006
what luna thinks of the holidays:
"i like hiding under the tree. that's about it. and lying on top of the wrapping paper you're trying to use. merry catmess."
02 December 2006
people are humans
new yorkers will know what i mean.
tired, after christmas shopping all day, t and i were waiting for the L train to whisk us back to brooklyn. when the train came, of course, we were standing between two cars, and as the left looked nearly empty, and the right, the last and always the most crowded, was quite crowded, we immediately went into the train car. we were tired, and wanted to sit.
immediately, we both noticed the foul smell in the car, and commented on it, but were tired. people moved to the next carriages, noses wrinkled, while others, like us, grateful to have a seat, remained. it wasn't the worst i've smelled, and i've smelled some really terrible things before. we ignored it as best we could, and talked about our day. at the next stop, people entered, made faces, and ran into the next very-crowded cars. (this is the same as the non-air-conditioned train in the summertime.)
at 3rd avenue, these boys--probably fourteen years old to seventeen years--ran in, whooping, shouting. then--"damn, this shit stink!" "this car smell like SHIT!" "disgusting!" "what the fuck smell so awful?" and etcetera.
the smell was coming from a man at one end of the car (we were at the other) who was obviously homeless. he had a bunch of stuff--his personal belongings--with him, possibly all he owned. he was wearing an ill-fitting shirt and stood there stoicly, not letting his facial expressions change.
but as the boys shouted (some of the large group ran into the next crowded car, while the others stayed to complain and shout about the smell), i could see his eyes. his eyes were obviously sad. he was not some shadow with a pile of cardboard boxes. he was a person. a person who has hopes and dreams and one day probably lived in a home like me too. and something went wrong. everyone has their own story. you can't forget this; everyone has their past, present and future.
on the walk in the train station, we entered at 16th street and walked down the long platform underground (as opposed to walking above ground in the freezing cold) and saw several different people sleeping, cardboard covering them or below them, and i thought about how truly lucky i am. i also thought about how silly the packages we carried in our hands as christmas gifts.
when we left the train, rather than feeling grateful to be exiting the smell, we both felt sad at how the feelings were hurt of that person. "kids are cruel," could be an easy excuse, but i was a kid, and i had more empathy than that. rather, instead, i thought about how people forget kindness and forgot that all people are humans and all humans are people.
tired, after christmas shopping all day, t and i were waiting for the L train to whisk us back to brooklyn. when the train came, of course, we were standing between two cars, and as the left looked nearly empty, and the right, the last and always the most crowded, was quite crowded, we immediately went into the train car. we were tired, and wanted to sit.
immediately, we both noticed the foul smell in the car, and commented on it, but were tired. people moved to the next carriages, noses wrinkled, while others, like us, grateful to have a seat, remained. it wasn't the worst i've smelled, and i've smelled some really terrible things before. we ignored it as best we could, and talked about our day. at the next stop, people entered, made faces, and ran into the next very-crowded cars. (this is the same as the non-air-conditioned train in the summertime.)
at 3rd avenue, these boys--probably fourteen years old to seventeen years--ran in, whooping, shouting. then--"damn, this shit stink!" "this car smell like SHIT!" "disgusting!" "what the fuck smell so awful?" and etcetera.
the smell was coming from a man at one end of the car (we were at the other) who was obviously homeless. he had a bunch of stuff--his personal belongings--with him, possibly all he owned. he was wearing an ill-fitting shirt and stood there stoicly, not letting his facial expressions change.
but as the boys shouted (some of the large group ran into the next crowded car, while the others stayed to complain and shout about the smell), i could see his eyes. his eyes were obviously sad. he was not some shadow with a pile of cardboard boxes. he was a person. a person who has hopes and dreams and one day probably lived in a home like me too. and something went wrong. everyone has their own story. you can't forget this; everyone has their past, present and future.
on the walk in the train station, we entered at 16th street and walked down the long platform underground (as opposed to walking above ground in the freezing cold) and saw several different people sleeping, cardboard covering them or below them, and i thought about how truly lucky i am. i also thought about how silly the packages we carried in our hands as christmas gifts.
when we left the train, rather than feeling grateful to be exiting the smell, we both felt sad at how the feelings were hurt of that person. "kids are cruel," could be an easy excuse, but i was a kid, and i had more empathy than that. rather, instead, i thought about how people forget kindness and forgot that all people are humans and all humans are people.
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