two years too late

irritating how the ny times reveals all of this now:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/31/nyregion/31protest.html?pagewanted=2&_r=1&ref=nyregion

i was part of the whole anti-rnc protest movement; an exhausting week filled with cheering, shouting, screaming, friends getting arrested (and worrying over them until they got out)

this woman said it right: The system is a political system, not a permitting system, said Mara Verheyden-Hilliard, one of the lawyers. The fact of the mayors involvement, the extraordinary lengths officials went through to justify it, makes it clear that free-speech rights are doled out based on politics and viewpoint, and thats clearly unconstitutional.

i hate sexual harassers

im sick of all of my runs being interrupted and disturbed by assholes who feel the need to honk their horn, lean out their car window and leer at me, stop walking and stare at me, shout at me, whistle at me, yell, "bend over" at me...among other things.

this post is a giant FUCK YOU to every sexual harasser. it's not a compliment; it's harassment.

We believe in diversity in America; we seem to include assholes in that definition

“Marriage is not about love. It is about a love that can bear children.” –Todd Akin, Republican Congressman (MO), calling for the House to pass a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. The measure failed.

So a couple who cannot bear children should not get married; a couple who is too old to have children should not get married; so a couple who love each other but do not want children should not get married?

Yes, we seem to never be lacking for idiots in our country.

it's quite awkward when...

someone is trying to date you and you are clearly not interested but they keep trying to hang out with you and etcetera and you are like, "really, must it drag on like this?"

yes.

or else i must be mean.

the funniest thing anyone has ever said to me when i was running...

as i was about to cross over the bridge to roosevelt island, a man starting singing to me, "let's get physical...physical...i wanna get physical...let's get physical" and i joined in for, "lemme hear your body talk..."

lissy, me and gram

i wish you could see my hair better in this picture

nearly two years ago, nothing has changed.

gentrification means forgetting about the people who lived there in the first place

while i really enjoyed all aspects of the art show, i tried not to be critical of the art; instead, appreciated it for what it was. most of the art really grabbed me, or if it didn't do that, it at least entertained and entranced me.

there was one piece of art whose artist's mission pissed me off. the exhibit was of photos being projected in a large scale onto the building next door. the theme was "yearbook" so there was a background in the photos (of a particular type of crushed fabric, something that i've never seen in any yearbook photos) and people appeared in sometimes yearbook poses, other times, silly poses. it didn't make me think of the yearbooks, actually. but anyway, i enjoyed the art for what it was.

the artist's statement really pissed me off. she said she's lived in bushwick since 2005 (so at the most, a year and a half) and she's been amazed at the creative changes in the neighborhood and the vibrancy of the artists since she's moved there and she used her yearbook project to capture these artists. (the east w'burg hood is somewhere i never would have gone six years ago; i went three years ago and it still wasn't the nicest, but slowly...) her tone in her statement irritated me. i dated a guy from bushwick (who was not white, like most of the people in his hood) and he was constantly complaining about what a terrible neighborhood it was, how it sucked everyone under, how he never wanted me to visit him there, etc. and this woman is glorifying the gentrification, the raising of the rents, and ignoring the people that live there--people that are traditionally people of colour while her yearbook photo project captured mostly white people. you have to acknowledge where you are. it's like i can't talk about my hood-- greenpoint-- without acknowledging the strong polish presence. my neighborhood has slowly become more gentrified since i first moved here six years ago and i like some of the things that this has brought--more young people, i have friends in the hood, more cafes, bars, restaurants, etc.--but i acknowledge the changes.

you have to acknowledge the creativity that already exists, the history, when you invoke something as powerful as a neighborhood. just becuase they aren't at the same studio as you or the same bars, doesn't mean they don't exist.

last night

yesterday i went to the art lab party for the bushwick arts project at 3rd ward in bushwick/east williamsburg. it was pretty cool; a lot of interactive art, some stuff that really blew my mind and other stuff i was like, "oh that's kinda cool." there were all these small rooms and studios filled with installations, a lot of interactive stuff (thus the viewer becomes part of the art, and by extension, an artist herself) and sometimes the artists were there which was really neat. one dj was playing this really crazy experimental electronica and had these images to correlate with it, which was nice but there wasn't space to dance--yet it wasn't for dancing, it was more for absorbing and feeling the art. i spoke with some of the artists, most who seemed really nice and earnest about what they did. upstairs, they had several different areas. one area had these djs with crazy visuals and really intense and unusual electronica--and when i speak of electronica, i don't mean techno you would hear at a club. it's this really rare and unusual stuff that combines sounds that are annoying and intense and it's more of an art thing than a dancing thing. still, we danced. in another room, people sat watching visuals on a huge screen, listening to again, eclectic electronica. the biggest room had djs playing bizarre electronica feeding off of outside sources--for example, a woman played on a gameboy and somehow the sounds in it were linked and influencing the music you heard. it was pretty rad.

that's what i like about new york; the conscious decision to include art as part of nightlife, art as a complete part of who you are.

my relationship with running is really going well

marathon training? well, our relationship is flourishing. i'm eating lots of carbs, fruit, veggies. i went on a two hour run today. i was hurting a bit at the end, but i feel good after a shower and brunch with rachelle. sure, dating is fun, but it is not happening for me, my ex is still in love with me (and let's not discuss my feelings for him), no one is interested in me--so running is quite a brilliant substitute. it's good for you, and makes a life-long partner. sure, maybe i'll have arthritis in 20 years, but i won't be breaking up at least with anyone.

from ms. hill

another night, slips away
in other words, I should say
there are no words, you should say
there are no words
another night slips away
in other words, I should say
there are no words, you should say
there are no words

(talib kweli)

bosnia, bosnia by june jordan

BOSNIA BOSNIA
by june jordan (an amazing poet, woman, essayist, activist, 1936-2002)

Too bad
there is no oil
between her legs

that 4-year-old Muslim girl and
her 5-year-old sister
and the 16- year-old babysitter
and the 20-year -old mother of that 4-year-old/that
Muslim child gangf raped
from dawn to dark to time become damnation

Too bad
there is no oil
between her legs

Too bad there is no oil
between Sbrenica and Sarajevo
and in-between the standing of a life
and genocide

Too bad
ther is no oil

Too bad
there in no oil
between her legs

the woman in Somalia
who weighs 45 pounds and
who has buried village elders and
who has buried village children

who weighed even less
than she weighs after so many days
of hunger gaping open
to the flies

Too bad
there is no oil
in South Central L.A.
and in between the beaten men and beatup woman
and in between the African and the Asian throwaways
and in between the Spanish and the English speaking
homeless
and in between the dealers and the drugged
and in between the people and criminal police
too bad
there is no oil

Too bad
there is no oil
between her legs
that four-year-old Muslim girl

Too bad
there is no oil
between her legs

breathing is a privilege

today i had an asthma attack at work. one minute, i was sitting there, listening to the discussion about a recent report that was released, fine. then suddenly i felt my lungs constrict, my throat seemed to close and i knew i wasn't getting enough air. i tried to calm myself but immediately felt like i wanted to cry--i often cry during asthma attacks uncontrollably. i ran out of the room (causing my boss to immediately ask after the meeting, "are you okay?") to my desk and took two quick puffs of an asthmatic's best friend, albuterol.

i sat at my desk, shaking, tears in my eyes that i refused to let free. i calmed myself down, slowly, trying to focus on breathing. breathing is such a beautiful, ! wonderful thing and most people i know take it for granted. me, i never do; i have had times where i thought i would never breathe again. so inhale. exhale. it's wonderful that right now i'm doing it and not even thinking of it.

after shaking at my desk for about fifteen minutes, i felt composed enough. i was done shaking, i was breathing again. i splashed some water on my face, and tried to do work, but still felt too scattered. i sat in my chair for the next ten minutes, sitting and breathing.

and enjoying my breath.

what i find hard to believe is how my asthma has gone from strictly exercise-induced asthma to full-blown asthma. i am addicted to many asthma medications, and cut myself off two of them--but i still am on two inhalers and one oral medication per day. it's a lot. my lungs hurt a bit now. i ran for 12 miles or more on saturday, and was fine. my asthma has not bothered me on a daily run in years--races it has bothered me in, but! not my regular run. speed play will hopefully prepare my lungs for th e marathon.

but please, as you are reading this, don't take that beautiful oxygen flowing so easily into your lungs for granted; there are too many asthmatics in this world who wish breathing was simple.

dating in nyc

peter and i were talking about dating in nyc after work today and i thought about it. it seems like one little mistake, you're fucked, you've lost it. half the time you don't know what you've done. like if you stepped on your boss's heel at work accidentally and lost your job; it's that serious, that hardcore. one slip-up, and it's over.

i do not want to enter this insane forcefield known as the nyc dating scene.

NOT NEW YORK

i went to not new york this weekend.

this is how i feel when i leave town: panicky, because it's not new york. pizza at four in the morning? they won't have it. a zillion people around you so you feel safe and never bored? got it. familiar and exciting things all the time? that's new york. i also think the whole trapped feeling stems from being outside of new york, if you want to go home, be somewhere familiar you can't: you're stuck someplace that's more than a quick cab or subway ride home. you're not in new york.

i went to port authority (which beats times square as my least favourite new york city place, but it's actually in times square, making it all the more suckier) and waited for a bus. i got on a bus and spent the next 5 hours 15 minutes squashed on a bus--an extra hour and a half than my timetable suggested. (vow to self: never take a bus after work leaving the city. the extra the train charged is worth it!)

when i got to not new york, MA, i felt strange. i went into a cvs...people looked so wholesome, so all-american, so suburban. cars driving, politely waving a car making a left in front of them, bland food, the friendly banter...how not new york.

i know you need to leave new york to really get it but sometimes i think there's the world...and there's new york. there's heaps of places (and you probably think of your town as the main thing, and then the rest of the world. i do the same for new york.) but no place is like new york. no place.

John Rechy Quote, from BENEATH THE SKIN ("Holy Drag!")

"Even greater hypocrisy is revealed daily now,w ith accounts of rampant child molestation, about the men who uphold strictures for others, men who continue to stigmatize homosexuals in an attempt to exorcise their own desires. During the 2004 presidential campaign, a number of priests apparently took time out from molesting children in order to decry as sinful a vote for candidates who suppported a woman's right to abortion."

excitement

she said to me, "you get so excited about these sorts of things." i thought to myself, "what else is better to get excited about?"

and then i realized: emotion, in all of its intense forms, is something to be experienced. yes, i am a bit over the top; yes. i live each moment to the fullest, to the total experience. for me, that is the ultimate excitement...and here i am, excited about a marathon in 16.5 weeks, another marathon in the spring, brazil next feb, a yo la tengo show tonight, a two-hour run on saturday, my bed with my cat at bedtime, a cool shower after a long run, a kiss on a street corner as the rush of bodies flies by--but no matter, the only thing that matters is that kiss.

those are the sorts of things that excite me.

what do doors and windows keep out?

"i hate screens. i had no screens when i lived in florence for a year. i realized that yeah, the bugs came in, but because you have no screens, they just fly out."

training for a marathon: a new way to experience life

i've been feeling like maybe my life is this pointless cycle lately: work during the week at a job i love, run around after work doing errands or grabbing drinks or dinner with friends, and weekends are filled with family time, shopping, and going to various bars, parties, events with friends. it's fun, and i finally have time to have a social life. but is this all?

i went to the complacent party on fri, then woke up early, did errands, went to ps1 for the summer warmup series, danced all day, and then went out with j to the misshapes party--i was so exhausted. drink specials ended at midnight so i ended up getting two drinks really close to each other--and they were strong. i felt exhausted and the music wasn't that great so i bailed at 1.30--j looked annoyed but i felt so ill.

this am i got up at 9.15, and went running for 1 hour: 14 min: 36 sec. my pace was slow, it was hot, but i'm so glad i did it. my body is exhausted; the run took a lot out of me. since then, i've showered, made and eaten whole grain pancakes, washed some dishes, and lazed, reading, importing various cds v made me into itunes.

but i'm thinking, "is this it?"

training for the marathon is going to give me some purpose, some grounding. late nights will not be as frequent as i need to get up at 6am (or earlier) to do some of my training runs. through running, i become more of myself, i learn about the world, i come to terms with things. it's my practice.

rain

she was drinking rain-flavored gatorade in a rainy bus station in a small town--"in the middle of nowhere," she liked to say. cars and homes and people filled the few square miles of the town, which was bordered by fields, mountains, and space.

"oooh, to have space," she whispered to herself, hugging her knees to her small chest. she had physical space with the land, but not from her life, her relationship.

she had started, though, started creating more space. she had turned off the phone, removed the battery, and threw it away. the battery she threw atway in a separate trash receptacle--"so it will be very hard." very hard for anyone to find her, to even get in touch with her.

distancewise, she was so close to the place she called home for so many years; but she was here, waiting for the bus, ticket in her pocket--she knew she was already miles from home.

and miles from their hearts.

and miles towards her own heart.

my favourite graffiti (on the bqe between the williamsburg bridge and the mcguinness blvd exit)

con$ervative
government

these late nights...

will these late nights, complete with alcohol, approaches by members of the same and opposite sex for romantic endeavors, cabs, subways, running all over in heels, screeching--will it ever end? is this what i want?

missing you

i was thinking of something from a long time ago: a memory. and i turned to my left, as if you would be there, but of course you were not. where are you, where were you? i have lost track of you, have no idea where you are or what you're doing. do you think of me? do you miss me?

you'll always be my best friend.

rain

the kind of torrential downpour people gasp, "i haven't seen this since_____." i remember only weeks ago, knowing you were coming over, running through heavy torrents of rain similiar to this. tonight, i ran home, arms full of bundles from bloomingdales (a rather bad habit), rain pouring from the sky. when it's raining like that, raining so hard you can barely see and no matter what, you're still soaked--even if you have an umbrella, even if your windows are closed--you have to simply accept it: it is raining and i am going to get very wet. and then a big smile will take over your face.

rain. i'm happy. it's a beautiful thing, especially since the sky is blue. it will stop soon. and my smile, yes, i'll still be happy.

friends around the world

i have friends in many corners of the world. alex (and his mother) have already insisted i stay with them when i visit sydney (and andrew and john are moving there too in august!), rocky is in melbourne with his pet kangaroos, miyuki in la (though she's from japan), friends across the states, chris in toronto, dan in leeds, emma in hamburg (though she's from nz), friends from australia, new zealand, all across europe (from iceland to greece), south america, africa, all over.

that's part of traveling, part of living in new york city, and part of being a citizen of the world.

last summer, on a berlin city tour i took recommended by chris of toronto, i ended up meeting chris (yes, another one, but this one from just outside of london). my tour guide was from williamsburg (right where i live in nyc). chris and i ended up spending much of the tour talking, and ended up meeting that night for a stroll around the holocaust remembrance memorial and getting drinks at a german pub. he was one of the people i def felt i connected with that i met on my travels. we kept in touch throughout our travels, emailing, and since we've been back, emailing rather sporadically.

in london, we met up by the hmv in covent gardens and ended up lunching, walking a lot, talking. he missed the first english game in the world cup for me (so i must be pretty special, eh?). it's amazing how linked you can feel to people who travels; others, like t, think it's cool but don't get it. i'm feeling antsy already...i've been in the country two weeks and want to leave. i checked plane fares to lisbon for this weekend (too much!). traveling is one of the most important things to me.

so back to friends around the world. i was in london to see a friends' wedding, ended up making friends with their friends, and i have even more friends. but seeing chris in his natural habitat (well, almost; he lives outside london a bit) was really awesome. i'm glad i saw him (and hope he can get his butt over to new york city, which is, i believe, just a bit more fabulous than london!) and it's amazing to have connections, friends, everything, all over.

now if those fares to lisbon would go down a bit, i might make some friends there...

for those moments when you feel like you're settling, listen to this song

MADONNA
EXPRESS YOURSELF

[Spoken:]
Come on girls
Do you believe in love?
'Cause I got something to say about it
And it goes something like this

[Chorus:]
Don't go for second best baby
Put your love to the test
You know, you know, you've got to
Make him express how he feels
And maybe then you'll know your love is real

You don't need diamond rings
Or eighteen karat gold
Fancy cars that go very fast
You know they never last, no, no
What you need is a big strong hand
To lift you to your higher ground
Make you feel like a queen on a throne
Make him love you till you can't come down
(You'll never come down)

[chorus]

Long stem roses are the way to your heart
But he needs to start with your head
Satin sheets are very romantic
What happens when you're not in bed
You deserve the best in life
So if the time isn't right then move on
Second best is never enough
You'll do much better baby on your own
(Baby on your own)

[chorus]

Express yourself
(You've got to make him)
Express himself
Hey, hey, hey, hey
So if you want it right now, make him show you how
Express what he's got, oh baby ready or not

[Intermediate:]

And when you're gone he might regret it
Think about the love he once had
Try to carry on, but he just won't get it
He'll be back on his knees

To express himself
(You've got to make him)
Express himself
Hey hey

What you need is a big strong hand
To lift you to your higher ground
Make you feel like a queen on a throne
Make him love you till you can't come down
(You'll never come down)

[intermediate]

So please

[chorus]

Express yourself
(You've got to make him)
Express himself
Hey, hey, hey, hey
So if you want it right now, make him show you how
Express what he's got, oh baby ready or not
Express yourself
(You've got to make him)
So you can respect yourself
Hey, hey
So if you want it right now, then make him show you how
Express what he's got, oh baby ready or not

happy pride!

pride was good, but exhausting!

it's so amazing the ways in which nyc celebrates lgbt pride! so fun! i am so proud to live in nyc b/c it is open and diverse (at most times) and gay pride originated here.

for those who don't know, patrons at the stonewall inn in nyc's greenwich village spontaneously rose up against the homophobic police trying to bust everyone...there were riots and demonstrations for several days in 1969. the gay pride parade commemorated these events and originates in nyc. go nyc!

on saturday i went to dyke march with the cheerleaders and cheered some dyke faves inc "big judy," "coming out day cheer," "masturbate don't detonate," "queerleaders," "my bush is better" among others. (check out nycrc's website for more cheers!) i was exhausted from jumping but it was SO fun! at one point it started raining and i lightened things up with "it's raining dykes, hallelujah, it's raining dykes!" so fun. after, we cheered at remote lounge's prochoice lesbian party...fun.

today i went to pride with richard. he told me about the earlier prides, about people grinding against every pole they passted and humping police officers. sounds like a lot of fun. it's a bit more clean...but still fun. drag queens everywhere, condoms flying through the air (i think i need to start having sex in response to the number of condoms i got in the past two days!), lgbt pride everywhere, floats re: aids, floats re: homeless lgbt youth, pflag, schools, everything.

and then i saw "every day i hear fag/dyke at least 25 times during my school day" and that brought me back. i was called dyke all the time, mainly b/c i refused to conform to their standards. that was the standard long island insult at my high school if they wanted to piss you off or insult you; for boys, it was fag. and i realize how much i hate high school--i still hate those people for inflicting such pain on me. v went to her high school reunion and i would never, ever fucking go to mine. i would spit in their face if i went. i hate those people still. i can't believe i've been out of high school so long but still, i remember their cruelty. hopefully they have changed but i really don't want to find out.

so i was just in london...

to see andrew and his boyfriend of 14 years get married. it was a beautiful love story and i'm glad i witnessed it. andrew and john are english, but john's job transferred them to the usa (which is how i met andrew), helping with visa issues for andrew...b/c they respect same-sex couples at his corporation (inc helping pay for andrew's degree so he could stay in the us without hassle). they're moving to australia, so i really wanted to be there.

i flew over from the states to see this beautiful ceremony and be there to celebrate with my friend. it really was an amazing and beautiful day--better than any of the heterosexual weddings...b/c you knew it was going to last. they are fun and they are sexy and they are finally able to celebrate their love. as john said, "we just wanted something ordinary. we didn't want to be special. we wanted to be like everyone else."

yes, ordinary and fabulous.

they also talked abt being recognized as a couple, finally feeling like "real people"--something the usa doesn't afford them. this topic has been on my mind a lot as i've been researching lgbt issues in the workplace at my job, and david gave a presentation on this very topic...people tend to assume you're heterosexual unless you specify otherwise (or act a certain way) and lgbt people always have to conceal...and it's fabulous they can be out and proud and happy in their love.

i'm so happy for them! congrats!

from t"The Great Gatsby" on this summer solstice

"Do you always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always wait for the longest day of the year and then miss it."

congratulations to andrew and john on their civil partnership!

our generation's choice in furniture

"it's not like i like ikea, or want it. it's what i can afford."
--a, speaking for himself, but also for our entire generation

monk

i'm drawn to buddhist monks always.

today on the train, a buddhist monk got off. he turned around and stared at me, and my heart felt as if i was falling in love--that is how drawn i am to monks.

then he tripped and i felt terrible.

i walked closely behind him, feeling his amazing energy. the colours--the maroon and gold--struck me deeply, and i listened to him talk tibetan to a friend.

the spiritual life to me does not exist in the church but in people.

"sorry i can't hang out tonight, i'm sterilizing my dirt"

so this morning my speaker fell off my dresser and landed on my favorite rubber plant, smashing its beautiful clay pot that t gave me a while ago. (sorry, t, i'm sad too!) so tonight i purchased a cheap ugly pot at my local florist, and got the dirt my dad gave me out of the cabinet.

i have been having a gnat problem so i researched sterilizing dirt on the internet. the gnats were residing in the dirt so i put the dirt in a ziploc bag, added some water, and zapped it in the microwave...and took it out and saw blood. i killed a worm. somehow this freaked me out hardcore and i ran outside with the dirt, dumped it around the tree in front of my house.

i'm giving the dirt back to my dad. he can use the fertilized dirt. yikes.

from bob dylan "ballad of d"

Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me,
"How good, how good does it feel to be free?"
And I answer them most mysteriously,
"Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"

being single is great, but....

my back is sunburned and it's hard to put aloe on my back. partners are good for putting sunscreen on, and putting aloe on when you're burned....

but i'll make it, i know i will.

i thought of k when i saw this button

"a handjob is still a job"

my sentiments exactly--ha!

being single

thanks to jessica for inspiration for this

i just have been realizing, hey, i dont need to be with anyone. it's okay to be alone, to be single. it's more than okay; in fact, it's fabulous. i can be best friends with t, i can be single and dance alone, i don't need to be tied down to someone immediately.

in fact, i think i feel better alone right now.

i like sleeping in the whole bed, naked. i like eating pretzels in bed and drinking water after i come home tipsy. i like cuddling with luna and cat fur all over the place.

i'm happy with my life right now.

that doesn't mean i don't want to be with someone--it just means i don't feel the need to be constantly with someone. j has mentioned how she's jumped from relationship to relationship and she's so happy now that she's single. being free and fabulous is much better than being with someone...who necessarily isn't good for you or what you want.

c'mon, it's new york city, baby, you think i don't know there aren't heaps of others out there? i'm patient b/c i know sooner or later, i'll find what i'm looking for. but for now, i'm enjoying me, me, me, and the freedom i'm finding.

i compared dating to shopping in a thrift store. at the point we're at now, everything is used. you have to dig deep to find the good stuff--j, just be patient and you'll find those "designer rocker duds at this thrift store" if you look long enough.

sure, someone may be good-looking, but if i'm not into it, forget it.
i need more, more more--i need intellect, i need fun, i need spontaneity, i need chemistry, i need someone i get along with.

and until then, i'll keep on movin sistah!

i'm so bored of the U-S-A

i came back from london last night after an amazing trip: i saw one of my best friends marry his boyfriend of 14 years (everyone kept asking if it was my first gay wedding, and i was like, duh, i live in the states!), i saw one of the coolest people i met on my trip, i purchased heaps of tea, choc, cds, went out to some fantastic drum n bass parties, talked abt how hateful the us is...then i landed and customs gave me trouble ("why is yr bag so heavy?" i overpack and overshop!) anyway now i'm in baltimore for SLA which seems pretty quiet still...nothing happens for another hour and twenty minutes. but i'll update my london trip with photos once i return to nyc.

Terrific Dali Quote

"I never understand why at a restaurant, when I ask for a grilled lobster, they never serve me a telephone."
--Salvador Dali

it's my birthday today!

i started off by celebrating the day with a run!

i'm gonna beat asthma

i forgot to take my inhaler this am and didnt realize it until i was nearly done with my run. i struggled a bit, but i ran. i'm gonna beat asthma, i am!

i'm reducing one of my inhalers again!

taking risks

today c, s, and i went out to lunch. we began talking abt risks, abt breakups. it was insightful (and yummy!) and i am so glad i live in someplace where people are from all over with all different opinions.

"i broke up with him because i didn't respect myself when dating him. i am still in love with him, but i just couldn't be with him any longer."

"i give ultimatums. it's a huge risk, but you have to do it or you won't be able to live with yourself."

"i can't take risks. i hate being out of my comfort zone."

"that's when you learn. that's when you grow."

"learning and growing are scary."

"taking risks also introduces you to all sorts of new options, new things that enhance your life. eating aubergines was a huge risk for me--it was expensive that first time--but i love them and i can't imagine a week without aubergines."

and so on. risks are necessary for life. i'm not talking about bungee jumping or subway surfing; those are stupid risks, with death as possibility. (well, the first isn't as risky but i still wouldn't do it; the second is very stupid, especially as i remember being late for my first class in library school b/c of that high school boy who was beheaded while subway surfing.) risks are saying, "i love you," or saying, "i love you but i can't do this anymore," or chatting someone new up or adopting a kitten or cutting your hair or wearing heels for the first time. risks are about new experiences and a new way of thinking.

fiction: from a short story i'm working on about love, sex, and life

he says i look so pretty after sex. he says i have a glow. he says he can't believe how beautiful i am after sex.

from v

"I wasn't ready to face the truth, which was that you reach a point in every intimate relationship where you have to be brave, to move forward into the dangerous territory. Because if you don't, there is nothing left to do but retreat."
Steve Almond and Julianna Baggot WHICH BRINGS ME TO YOU

wait

did you wonder how long i'd wait for you? did you really think it would be years, and years, and years, and still i'd wait? i'd wait like that bride with her van packed full of wedding gifts, the groom off to get a pack of ciggies before the wedding, and never came home? i remember going with my daddy and seeing the van packed up--"and cher, this was years, years before you were born! this was before your mother and i got married"--packed with wedding gifts, and the rumour was, she was still waiting.

i swear i will never be like that.

sup

i had a pretty good weekend. i went to rosa's in CT on friday and i had a bit of culture shock (i am such a freak--the second i am abt to go someplace in the US i start panicking if it's outside of nyc (except LI i can handle b/c i grew up there) and getting all nervous and antsy and feeling uneasy b/c everything other than nyc is strange) but a really splendid time. i love rosa. we spent some time in nature but turns out, i'm freaked of dark forests at night. oh well. saturday i went to a rooftop party in the south bronx and got pretty smashed (etc etc) and then cabbed it down to the complacent party where i danced with too many friends and strangers till 5.30 am. today i spent the day with the fam out on the boat and at a family bbq (boca burgers for cherie).

but yesterday a lot of things hit me. i went to rachelle's to help her move her apt--b finally moved out! n came over too and the three of us really bonded b/c all of us have recently gotten out of long-term relationships (eight years for r and n, six for me). r was over b a lot more than n and i were over our exes ("why?") but we all felt free.

"dating new people is SO strange!"

and where do you meet these people? r had all these books like there goes the bride and some weird matchmaking books her mother gave her and i was reading them for a bit, but snorting at some of the advice. apparently, i have to look sexy while i work out. my limited tanks that i run in that i originally bought in seventh grade garner enough comments; imagine how much i'd be sexually harassed if i wore sexy clothes?

but i digress. being single is a very scary thing but at the same time, i kind of like my freedom. freedom to talk with whomever, to have a bit of space. i don't know what's happening tomorrow, and i'm rather savouring it. i can listen to specific songs on repeat (i currently have a playlist of four songs on my ipod titled "tracks i'm obsessed with" that i listen to repeatedly) without any faces being made. plus more space in my apt. more space in my life. it's hard, so fucking hard, and it's esp difficult when the decision can easily be reversed--but i know i shouldn't let it be, and i won't. i have demands, and they'll never be filled, b/c my heart has been crushed.

i said months ago to dan in an email, "absence makes the heart grow fonder, but neglect only leads to decay." i think that sums so much up.

"you have loved me too well and not enough."
--peter covino

what emily said when i told her i was no longer dating t

"good. another less boyfriend."

who am i?

i walk past the spot where i was almost attacked nearly every day, and i decided, "i should put a sign up here to warn other women." and the radical feminist i once was--i still am, but not as radical--came back. putting signs "a rapist lives here," spitting at cr's rapist, shouting back at pi alpha nu, writing letters...i was fucking FIERCE. i was hardcore. what happened?

i can blame it on falling in love with a man (who broke my heart when he left ny), i can blame it on living in nyc where heels are mandatory for saturday nights, i can blame it on growing up...but it's still there. that's why i'm a radical cheerleader at 26, nearly 27, why i'm going to speak up for my sisters who can't speak up...or who are too scared to....or who won't, for whatever reason.

but now i'm single, looking at the world with big open eyes. i work for a women's nonprofit, and know i need to go back to my roots: radical feminist activist.

the woman who was raped after dancing at a duke party...that could have been me. but it wasn't. the woman that was raped by those lacrosse players was black, so of course the media has to portray the black stripper (single mom, struggling to raise her family and go to the local public college) as opposed to the "wholesome" rich white duke lacrosse players (one of them is a graduate of chaminade, and any long island girl knows about the chaminade boys). why do people doubt her? shouldn't we automatically just accept it? i do. i believe her. i believe her. i believe we have to believe her. why the fuck would she make up something like that? it's a horrific experience to be raped--and i know--and i think the least we can do--the very, very least--is to support her.

but how can i get back to direct action? i was the one screaming, tears streaming down my face, in front of the new paltz courthouse about the injustice, about the blind eye the law turns towards women, especially women who have been raped. "she couldn't have been raped; she was wearing tight jeans." (italian court) "what were you wearing?" "you were a hooker; you can't have been raped!" "what did you go to his house before?" and too many other things.

maybe i'm in the wrong field. i always feel like i need to do something MORE, to help women. how can i? i should volunteer, i suppose.

but it's late-ish; instead, i'll just listen to old skool bikini kill, huggy bear. and i'll make some fucking signs to warn women about the scummy men who are out there, wanting to hurt women. i have been hurt before by men, and i'm fucking strong: i don't want my sisters to get hurt too.

hating menstruation

i know i'm a big hippie, but i get the worst periods. and when you get three in forty days, you start getting ready to throttle someone (namely that asshole scratching his crotch on wall st--wtf?!!). anyway, a new pill is abt to be approved that would make menstruation optional. and i hate the hormones of regular birth control, but to not have periods--to have sex whenever i want, to not be bleeding so badly i cry, to not have cramps, to not get depressed--it'd be worth it.

i've always been opposed to the pill--the hormones--but i am tempted to try this, assuming fda approves it in june! wooohooo!

anti-bush graffiti i witnessed around europe

the following are photos of anti-bush/anti-war graffiti and signs i saw around europe. interesting...

what my grandma said this morning to me, shocking me beyond belief

"i don't like that, cheryl. you need to play the field. i'm serious. i don't like to see you waiting. you're young and pretty and shouldn't be tied down to one person who's never there. i love you."

well said, grandma.

My favorite section from Blake Nelson's GIRL (my fave book in high school and still one of the best books)

"What I didn't understand that first couple days was if sex was so fun why didn't people spend, you know, like six or eight hours a day doing it? I felt like I could have. And I looked at all the grownups and older kids and the counselors and I thought how everyone on earth complains they can't get sex but why can't they? Just go meet someone and do it. Everyone wants to, how hard can it be? And even if you don't like the person that much you'll be having sex with them and sex is so fun of course you'll start to like them."

What We Really Learn in Library School

"Our society is obsessed with sex," said Rep. Sally Kern (R-Oklahoma City). "And I will tell you this: The American Library Association is out to sexualize our children."

I am a card-carrying member of the American Library Association.

i wrote this a while ago and found it while cleaning....it makes me sad as this is not even "foreshadowing" but smacking me over the head....so sad

It is past our bedtime. You are lying on my bed in jeans, t-shirt. From what you normally sleep in, you might as well have on your jacket too. I am sitting in the bathroom, on the closed toilet seat, thinking of what tomorrow will be like.

Will our fight continue, venomous words spewing from our mouths? Will you leave and never return my calls? Will one day an email come from you demanding I mail you that obscure item you left at my house, insisting I never get in touch with you again--maybe you'll want the cock ring to use with someone else?

Or maybe you'll have blocked me out of your mind--a kind of amnesia.

We thought it could work, admist the vast differences--an artist and a scientist, a dreamer and a realist, a financially responsible one and...oh, fuck the labels. we are different. we were different. we were so arrogant: oh, our love, no one else feels like this. we have something special.

yet on and on we went: forever unhappy.

what can i say? tears, words, embraces--all met with resistance. violence in the tossing, ripping words. i think of a missed yoga class tonight--perhaps if i went, tonight wouldn't have turned out so. my mind would have been clearer.

you are so clever, so calm, so cool and collected. i, the messy one, with my dreams and desires out in the air, acting and talking, australia and europe, novels and libraries. i want to do it all (and am determined to do so) and seeing you, my love, makes me want to forfeit it all, the world for the solace i locate in your embrace. and when i see you, my heart flips, yet you act cool. i try to mimic you but you are not me an di fail.

i wonder where we are going: not even us since that no longer appears to be an option, but you & i, separately. me, i've got big dreams, and you're number one in them. am i in yours? anymore?

who knows?

sad eyes want to die

this morning i saw buffy, my grandma's dog. a bit about buffy: she enjoys rice krispies, chocolate, eggs, pasta, cheese, pastries--people food. shit zus are supposed to weight 13 or 14; buffy weighed 26 until not too long ago. buffy is 14.

about two months ago, buffy was diagnosed with cancer. the vet told my grandmother that she could:

1. have another three or so months with buffy;
2. put buffy to sleep;
3. give buffy chemo, which might prolong her life another year.

my grandma was leaning towards option one, just letting buffy slowly go and eventually putting her to sleep, or letting her die. instead, my stupid aunt (who as my father says, "used to hate dogs, not give a shit about dogs, and suddenly she's the mother teresa of canines") convinced my grandmother to get chemo for buffy--not a cheap option. "you have to do it," my pushy aunt said. "i would borrow money if i had to do it." (this doesn't mention the fact that she once put a dog to sleep b/c it was old. that's when she didn't give a shit abt her dogs.)

so buffy has been undergoing chemo. the last time i saw buffy was about a month ago, and she just looked skinnier, but still like the buffy i've grown up with: the buffy who begs for food, who pees on the carpet when you excite her, who says hello to me. this time, i was in for a shock. i almost started crying.

buffy was skinnier: skinnier than probably a normal shit zu (so she probably weighed 12 pounds, maybe 10?), and she lost the fur on her face, giving her a bizarre and sad appearance. "she looks much better," grandma convinced me, but my heart ached. the worst was buffy's eyes.

in her emaciated, mostly-furless face, her eyes stuck out the most. they were filled with pain, with sadness, and i never saw an animal look like this. buffy was telling me, "please, i am in pain, i am suffering, i do not like this. please, let me go. this is not fair to me." her eyes were reaching out to me, and i knew she did not want to live anymore as she was living.

this i could not say to my grandmother. my grandma had seen the change slowly, but for me in buffy, the change was dramatic. instead, while my grandma fussed over where my father hung the fuscia my sister and i gave her for mother's day, i sat with buffy, talking to her, comforting her, telling her i loved her.

i hope buffy's pain does not continue too much longer. although i deeply love this dog (more than i've ever loved a dog), i do not want buffy to be in pain. if luna were like this, it would be hard, but i would need to let her go.

wait

She wasn’t sure what she came for but she was glad she was there.

She was waiting at the bar, not for him or for her or for anyone in particular. She was waiting, waiting for something, and she wasn’t sure what. She sat there, sipping a tall mojito, waiting, listening, waiting.

And when it happened, she was so relieved the waiting was over.

scary incident

today i was exhausted and took the bus to india st and didn't have the driver stop at my corner like i usually do b/c i didn't want to make everyone wait and some cute polish guy in his fancy car started hitting on me in polish. i said, "i don't speak polish" and he hit on me again in polish. "sorry, i don't speak polish," and then he said, "can i give you a ride somewhere? or get to know you?" and i was flattered but said, "i leave around the block" and ducked through one of those annoying construction-fake sidewalks (if you live in nyc, you know what i mean) and this guy started saying, "baby, wait baby," and following me and going to grab me and i freaked, and screamed, "get the fuck away from me! get away from me! get away!" and ran out of the fake sidewalk and crossed my street and i'm relieved i'm home in my safe apt with my little kitty and the sound of rain.

choice cheer

if you can't trust me with a CHOICE
how can you trust me with a child!
it's pro choice or no choice
abortion is a right
we must stand united and fight FIGHT FIGHT
so come on, everyone,
we need your racket!
'cause when women use hangers,
it should be for their JACKETS!

i miss traveling...

seeing new things each and every day...today i saw a backpacker on wall street, and thought, "i miss the days where each day was a new city, a new chance to explore, new people..."

later i walked up to cortlandt st to get my mum her mother's day gift and i saw a fucking tourist smiling having someone take a photo of themself in front of the world trade centre. that made me so fucking angry. i'm not ready to let the site of a massacre be a photo opp. how insensitive.

running is my religion

this morning, as i was completing my daily run, i mulled over various things on my mind. i let my feet take to the streets, let it all out as i ran, as i put one foot in front of the other, as i ran, ran, ran. i remember years ago, when i was moving into snow lion, my buddhist super said to me, "do you practice?" meaning, practice buddhist or practice spirituality with meditation, yoga, etc.

"yes, i run," i told him.

"ah, yes," zoran responded.

my roommate attacked me, "that's not meditation. you aren't meditating when you run."

"what about thich nhat hanh? and his infamous walking meditation you revere so?" i questioned.

"but that's walking! this is running! running is different!" said my roommate who never ran.

my super interrupted our argument. "no it's not. running, it's simply a different method of letting it all out. whether you walk or run or sit, it's all a method of un-avoidance, of meditation. i am glad we have a runner-meditator here."

running is a place where i can go that lets my thoughts flow, my mind is full of creative ideas...or a place where my mind is blank and i can truly focus on nothing as i push my body to its extreme. running is everything to me, and helps me better than any therapy ever could.

"i need an australian-american dictionary"

my friend alex from sydney has been staying with me until he finds a job and an apt, or until i get sick of him and kick him out. we're having heaps of fun, though i must admit i'm not used to the excessive drinking ozzies take place in. this summer, i remember once drinking water and my friend rocky from melbourne was incredulous: "but cherie, that's just water? water? let me buy you a beer. no, i have to buy you a beer." in the end, we did shots of absinthe and took photos. here's one of them.

anyway, since alex has been here, i feel like i have a roommate. it's kind of nice, although everyone knows boys never make good roommates. i love living alone--i generally walk around naked, pee with the door open, have my weird secret habits (i believe sex and the city touched upon these weird habits in one episode--i think carrie liked to stand in her kitchen eating stacks of saletines)--so this is intruding upon that a bit, but really, i'm having heaps of fun.

alex plays australian football (aka footie) and i went out with one of his footie friends to this australian bar--ozzie flag in the front, footie on the tele, lots of ozzie accents. ruebin won a 1k bar tab so we drank for free and got really trashed. these dopey american girls heard us talking and joined in our conversation.

them: so, are you guys like british?

this is the best way to insult an ozzie. they were annoyed at them, but since they were hot, ruebin (who was heavily smashed at this point) began chatting them up. one of the girls decided alex and i were boyfriend-girlfriend. alex was getting smashed and i warned him if he threw up he'd be sleeping on the bathroom floor.

girl: so how long have you guys been living together?

alex and i look at each other, thinking, is him sleeping on my futon with a pile of suitcases in the corner living together? i guess so.

me: um, a week today.

girl: oh how nice!

us: yeah...

girl: how long have you been dating?

us: ummm....actually, we met last friday....he flew in from sydney then....

girl (flustered): oh, well, my sister moved in with her husband after a week and they've been married for seven years!

alex and i laugh.

so i've been trying not to drink more than usual, but of course it's a bit difficult. otherwise i've been showing alex around ny, talking to him abt the city, having heaps of fun. he's really considerate and i think i've learned a lot abt australia since he's been staying with me. he's trying to turn me on to rodney rude, this australian comedian but i don't get what he's saying: half the time i have no clue of what he's saying, and the other half, i can understand what he's saying but i don't get the jokes. cultural barriers. alex and i have been using heaps of words the other doesn't understand and my dad said, "cher, where's your australian-american dictionary?"

for real, i saw one of those at the amazing travel bookstore in london and i need one of those!

on the bus yesterday

african-american woman: that bitch pushed me! i hate stupid white people.

me to the guy sitting next to me: i hate stupid every people.

the protest

saturday was the anti-war protest. it was fucking awesome. despite staying up past 4am with alex after he landed from sydney, i still was able to muster up enough energy to cheer. (i'm a radical cheerleader!) and cheer we did. popular favorites of the day were "masturbate don't detonate" and "my bush is better." we had so much fun screaming. i loved doing a thigh stand and screaming: if you can't trust me with a choice you can't trust me with a child! it's pro-choice or no choice abortion is a right! bush it is you we'll fight fight FIGHT!

the rads wooed the crowd as usual, and we screamed beyond the point of hoarseness. tears were in my eyes at the pain i was in while screaming. there was a fairly good turnout, but still, i felt the crowd lacked some of the energy i have seen at other protests. and most importantly, where the fuck were the anarchists? the rads are often part of the anarchist blocs and there was none. no other squads except nyc showed up; it was sad. the rc movement needs some inspiration. to read some cheers, or start your own squad, check out here for info!

fire

yesterday i woke up for my morning run, and as soon as i stepped outside my house, i heard helicopters. lots of them. i looked up and felt frightened for a second: something has happened. running to the end of my block, i could see what happened: there was a fire. i could see smoke, but it took me several blocks to see the building (at the end of my friend's block)--an abandoned building on the waterfront. i have never seen so much smoke in years--it has been the worst fire in over 10 years (besides 9/11) and the smoke coming from the building--it reminded me of the twin towers.

after talking to rachelle, friend and greenpoint expert, neighbors, and others, i learned that this was the one building that could NOT be torn down--though it was owned by developers and slated for renovation for luxury apts. it was a historical site, so they couldn't destroy it. however, there have been several reports of someone being sighted sloshing liquid on the roof of the building--and for the intensity of the fire--a ten alarm fire--it could not have been a random burning. the developer sounded like a real asshole in this new york times article and the fire was still burning earlier today--on my morning run today, i saw several hoses shooting at the fire, and a bunch of exhausted-looking firefighters. i ran home from work today and felt as if i were choking--the smell was horrid. luckily, the smoke blew north, and so it did not affect me...and it mainly went into the river, so most people were okay.

running in the rain

today i pulled myself out of bed and propelled myself onto the rainy new york city streets. i am a crazy runner: to qualify for the 2007 marathon, one must be a member of the new york road runners and run 9 scored races. as it is late april and i only had one, i ran this one. it was only a four miler, but a miserable, rainy day: torrential downpour was the norm, and my shoes were so water logged i felt as if i were running through a shallow creek instead of the roads of central park.

about ten minutes after being soaked outdoors before the race, i came to terms with the rain. it was raining, i was getting wet, and there was nothing i could do about that. i began to enjoy the fat splashes from the sky, the puddles, even began wearing the mud on my calves as if they were badges: yes, you are hardcore, a hardcore runner.

after the race, i ran to the subway, soaked, and squeezed water out of my hair onto the train platform. puddles everywear, rivulets of rain streaking off my clothing onto the train floors.

and i came home and showered, drank tea and read: and then i realized, it stopped. the rain stopped. and i immediately left my house to enjoy my wide open sunday, complete with shoe shopping at DSW and errands around the union square area. it's amazing how the rain affects your mood, and this rainy weekend has left me despondent. yet now, as i sip my yummy organic strawberry paradise purity juice, i know that spring is coming. we need the rain for our flowers and plants and trees, and the sun will be around to entertain us. one must be patient, and accept the rain.

and run with the rain.

springtime is a time for rebirth

i got a new job.

v is introducing me to all this music--who ever thought my new fave song is by my life with the thrill kill kult?

t and i are probably ending things...due to the fact that it's practically impossible for us to ever be together unless i quit my amazing job and move to wherever he is. i'll always love him but i'm trying to be brave.

i'll be traveling for sure, even if it's just short trips--ibiza in july (or someplace else, maybe?) and brazil for carnaval in feb!

i'm doing a bit of editing!

i started growing plants from seeds on friday and the first sprouts shot up by sunday!

i feel alive, happy, and full of new life in this beautiful spring!

a very new york moment on the street yesterday

the scene: 14th st between 6th and 7th avenues. me, walking down the street east, wearing a short pleated tan skirt, pink tank top, and a cropped pink short-sleeved crocheted sweater. hair down. chatting on the cell phone with j. an attractive african-american man spots me.

guy: mmmm. you look like dessert.

i keep walking.

guy: and i got a sweet tooth.

me: well, i just had my chocolate so i'm okay. (referring the chocolate gelato carin and i had earlier.)

i suddenly realize that is not the best thing to say to a black man who's hitting on me.

guy: chocolate? you want chocolate? i'm all the chocolate you need, baby. i got chocolate. c'mere and get some chocolate.

me: jessica, um, this guy, don't say to a black guy you like chocolate ever unless you want to get with them.

guy: chocolate? chocolate?....

his voice fades as i rush into the subway.

life, lately

i've been catching up on things lately; my apartment isn't quite so trashed, and the spring-like weather is just divine! today i went shopping and found a surprisingly inexpensive and cute pink skirt at brooklyn industries (ironically, at their soho location). i almost passed by and didn't enter but then decided to--most of their stuff is costly but i was having a free day. i really wanted to go shoe shopping but both macy's and dsw (my prime location) were closed. i found some cute shoes at other places but a lot of them have suckass return policies and i generally prefer walking around my apt in new shoes for a night before i decide if i want to keep them. so....

sew buttons, as craig would say.

i'm having all sorts of adventures i don't even know how to describe that probably seem pointless to most of you out there. like for instance, today i ran an hour and fifteen minutes and felt wonderful afterwards. or the fact that i am aware of the fact of the limitless possibilites of nyc and don't ever want to leave. or the fact that nyc is so fucking gorgeous, take that, the south, new england, wherever--it's a beautiful, beautiful place and i love everything about it.

about nyc, one of my coworkers said of e, "she's leaving because she doesn't love nyc enough. you live here because you love it. like the main sucky thing is, it's impossible to save. you live in shoeboxes because you can't afford anything else. but it's better than anywhere else--and that's why you stay."

and why we struggle.

laundry

the thing i hate most about doing my laundry is the day you do it, when you're picking out something to wear, you think, "oh no, if i wear this today i won't get to wear it again for another week or two, until i do laundry again."

how do you get rid of someone you can't get rid of?

sometimes there are people in your life that you'd rather not talk to for a while--you just don't feel like dealing with their gloating or their big ego or whatever it is--you just want some space. and they keep calling and don't understand why you're not calling back and keep calling and you have to call back eventually but feel unenthusiastic and know in your heart that you still love them but still, you just don't feel like talking to them right now.

it's not me, it's YOU!

so t and i established that we are having an open relationship; thus, we are still engaged in a relationship (not engaged, goddess forbid, a commitment and a ring, t doesn't know what to do in that area!) but we are dating other people. right now, i'm not dating anyone but t, but i could.

so i'm hanging out with a (which stands for asshole if you must know) and he is being a bit too flirty, and i say, "look, treat me like you'd treat a male friend. would you treat a male friend like this?" and he goes, "i like you a bit more than i like my male friends." i make it clear (and made it very fucking clear before he even came over, before we even hung out) that i would not be getting with him. apparently, men are fucking stupid (t always says this; they don't care, they still will try). he keeps trying, trying to cuddle me, touch me.

a smooth move: "are you a romantic person?" he asks me. i nod. "on sundays, spending the day cuddling in bed is good for you, no?" i describe how i love to sleep in t's arms, to spend the entire day snuggling and kissing--which we do when we have time.

he responds, "let us have a deal. why not we don't mention my girlfriend [who lives in poland] and your boyfriend and then we can hang out?"

i get up from the couch and sit across the room. "no, no, it's not like that. i'll mention t all i want and i am not getting with you. it's not going to be like that between us."

he gets all pissy. "you're hung up on your boyfriend. you feel too guilty."

no, really, i don't. t and i established we can date other people and i'm very cool with that. just the thing is, i'm not into a at all. i find him not my type, fun, but i'm not attracted to him--and he's crazy in some ways, not someone i'd want to be with. if t were never bored, i still wouldn't hook up with a.

finally he leaves, and i'm happy. i spend the rest of the evening reading and i decide i never want to speak to him again.

a message when i turn my computer on this morning from a tells me i have a big ego. wtf? i don't want to get with you b/c i'm not into you--not b/c i have a big ego. i quickly type back, "i don't have a big ego. i'm just not into you at all in that way. don't ever contact me again."

all these people i'm talking to are totally crazy. being semi-single in nyc is dangerous--but of course, an adventure!

yummy fake fake

i posted on a message board for good meat substitutes (i'm a vegetarian) and here are a few recommendations:

• wildwood natural foods--tofu--veggie burgers
• morning star farms meatballs--put it in broth with carrots, garlic, parsley, oregano and pasta for a good soup idea
• morningstar farms sausage links
• morningstar farms bacon
• trader joe's veggie burgers

here are my personal suggestions:

• most fake meat products from trader joe's
• dr praegers veggie burgers
• nirvana burgers (if you like spicy ones)
• boca chik patties
• smart links fake bacon (with eggs--yum!)
• amy's organic burgers--esp the chicago and california ones

my fave way for veggie burgers is to spread one side of the bread with avocado, the other with hummus (esp trader joe's sundried tomato basil or abe's roasted red pepper hummus) and serve the burger with a slice of cheese, ketchup and any additional things around the house like greens, sprouts, pickles, shredded carrots, etc. yum!

pictures from colorado--two are views from venessa's house, and the other is a view from a bridge over the boulder creek

132 BPM--What a Beautiful World

a few weeks ago i went to ps1. i saw some incredible video installations that even if you generally don't like video installations (and i generally don't) you will enjoy these.

first i saw johanna billing's beautiful world which was comprised of a group of students (around ages 10-12, if i am estimating correctly) singing "oh, what a beautiful world"--but it included shots of croatia at its bleakest. the clips of photos interspersed with the singing children was captivating. the voices drew me into the room.

the other video installation i adored also featured music. torbjorn rodland's 132 bpm was phenomenal. i could not look at the other art on the floor as his piece drew me into the room--it called my name and i could not enjoy anything else until i sat through it three times. he takes music that is 132 bpm--standard techno--and includes videos in clips of the light playing through trees and other parts of nature, strangely, also shot entirely in croatia (although rodland is Norwegian). i highly recommend it! i adore it! i want to see it again!

artists are the true creators and saviors of society because it is us who inspires others, who draws them out of their everyday life and brings them into a lovely state of bliss, or otherwise creates emotion. there are disagreements on this, and not all artists are fabulous, and not all are saviors, but artists are very important.

Going back in time

The past few days, I was in Colorado. I went to graduate school at Naropa for two years, and have many friends in the communities around Boulder. My first night there, I was sick, wearing a coat, and experiencing culture shock at how many youthful slim figures paraded down the Pearl St Mall, often wearing khaki shorts and long sleeved t-shirts with perfectly propped sunglasses, laughing, preparing for their next hike or walking meditation or whatever. It is so completely different out there, days and evenings occupied with philosophical conversation, Buddhism and Tibetan culture quite prominent, tea and coffee often several times a day with various friends, exploring used bookshops....

I miss my much simpler life. Granted, when I lived in Boulder, I spent much of my time mooning over my long-distance love, missing NYC, and stressing about money, but there's just something so great about riding your bike to work and walking, biking and running everywhere you go.

since i've come home

i went away for several days and since i've arrived, i feel immensely bitchy. my suitcase took a bit to come out of the big gaping hole in the wall, and there was a long queue for a cab, and i've been running around, doing laundry and running to the health food store for provisions, and t didn't throw out the foul tofu or rice and bean leftovers (so my fridge smells like death!) and can't make my bed (at age 25, quite sad) and my apt is messy and i'm feeling cranky of all the things i have to do and my mom keeps calling, keeps calling to chat and "aren't you excited about working tomorrow?" (fucking no, i want my freedom!) and i am starting to go mad from being 26, almost 27, still having my mother know everyfuckingthing that i am doing and she only seems to respond to me being rude--which i hate doing but i don't need her to know who i was with and what i did and where i'm going. isn't that part of growing up?

so i am a bit nervous abt starting my new job tomorrow but right now i'm focused on cleaning my apt, cleansing the air, and putting stuff away. i hate being crabby but it's better than being angry. i'm listening to this excellent cd jennifer gave me and it's putting me in a much better mood.

"new yorkers are actually quite friendly"

on monday night, while waiting inside the C/E 50th St station, someone asked me how to transfer to the uptown train (you can't.). i told him you had to go out and he was all pissed b/c he didn't have an unlimited card and then he'd have to pay to re-enter on the other side. i was cozy in my little spot, writing a letter to v and waiting for laura, but said, "i'll take you, i have an unlimited." he was very happy, proceeding to ask me out for a drink instead of waiting in the subway and asking, "how does it feel to be a saint?" the suffering folks, the suffering is a lot more intense than you'd think.

we walked around for a bit in the freezing cold, trying to find the entrance (at this rate, he should have just waited for another train downtown to catch the uptown one) and talking. he asked me out again for a drink but i told him really, laura would be here soon and i had to head over to china club. he told me his name, kissed me on the cheek, and i swiped him in. i felt like he wanted to ask me for his number but i simply brightly smiled and waved.

at china club, i met these three irish guys in line. we had a great conversation, and they told me about their st. patty's day experience ("completely different in ireland! no one drinks like that or wears green!") and one of them told me during their week in nyc, they've had 210 pints of beer. woah.

i went in, hung out with charlie and adam and natalia and laura in the vip section, but left to talk with them. they were loads of fun and told me, "everyone says new yorkers are mean, rude. they definitely aren't. they're friendly. so friendly." i'm glad to have inserted my little friendly energy into their trip.

a lot of people think it's impossible to meet people in new york city. while sex and the city was a tv show, it was based on reality--i constantly meet people in nyc on the train, on the street, at a bar, in line for the loo--we love to talk. in crisis--forgetaboutit. we're all best friends. during the transit strike (not to mention the blackout and other similiar dramas; i was in grad school during 9/11 but i heard it was the same), everyone bonded together to bitch abt how selfish the transit workers were and how it was freezing cold and hurting their businesses and how horrid it was. yup, we like to talk and complain and talk about how two-year-old that wouldn't stop crying when it realized mommy had to walk to work. that sort of thing. we're rude, we have our busy lives, but we'll make time to make new friends, have a conversation, often hoping it will blossom into a relationship. i.e., "i met my husband while waiting for the stupid train one night. the train was messed up and we barely noticed."

quote of the day

"she didn't care about her other dogs, and all of the sudden, she's the mother teresa of canines."

--my dad about my aunt

and the neighborhood's going down

yesterday, a surveyor was on my street. in light of all of the construction on franklin, i asked the surveyor, "please don't tell me you're going to rip up half my street and put it under construction for the next year."

he told me, no, they weren't going to. with relief, i started to walk away, and then asked him, "what are you doing?"

"we're putting up a big apartment building. right here," he said gesturing at the area across the street from me. great. my rents will rise, and that will be even worse construction.

i need to get out of greenpoint.

coming home, alone and tipsy

i had this totally crazy night. this guy wanted the radical cheerleaders to perform at this club, and it was such a hassle but he kept begging, and finally we cheered, with mics, which sucked as no one could hear anything. we beat it after our performance and headed to prvada, a snotty expensive bar where less than one drink got me drunk. i'm pathetic.

i ran into this friend of my friend's whatever (not boyfriend, but it's slowly becoming that) and he was with his girlfriend. when this guy p and i had met two weeks ago he said something to my friend's whatever about me, and i barely remembered him but p apparently liked me. i was like, okay, whatever. today however, p had his gf. j was saying i could make out with him when his gf was around and i was like, "no way, that's bad karma." i won't do that.

besides, i'm waiting for antonio.

the virgin suicides

i remember reading the virgin suicides when i was in high school, selecting the book because of the titilating title. i remember being blown away by the incredible story, rereading it, adoring celia for her fearlessness, lux for her sexiness, and knowing they escaped the lifes they loathed. i escaped the life i loathed by living; they did it by dying.

fast-forward to my junior year of college, to my internship at zoetrope: all-story. the short story publication associated with francis ford coppola (he was the founding editor) had photos of the coppola wine and various movies, including the virgin suicides. there was a lot of hype about the movie, but i never saw it, for whatever reason i know not now.

now tonight, in 2006, before heading out, i had two hours, so i watched it. in between applying a thick lucious layer of eyeliner, trying on various skirts and tops (and unsure of the one i am currently wearing), i watched it. and was blown away with the beauty of the script, of how it was fairly true to the book. and i love sofia coppola's films again.

we all yearn for something more. we do this in different ways: by looking back over our shoulder at our regrets and wishing we could change the past; by consistently obsessing over the future, hoping and wishing. we need to live in the present and try to put forth our yearning into reality.

amalfi: i miss traveling

where i am going

moments before i thought i would be spiraling into the world of late night clubbing, relentless flirting, jobs that meant nothing, i found a job that looks like it will be a career. i think they'll be cool with my traveling addiction. i already decided i want to take all my vacation days in nov or dec, and see if i can work from wherever i am traveling too--hopefully someplace in argentina or brazil or chile or peru--all places i am drawn to.

that said, i have two weeks left to flit and fly; tonight, performing with laura at a club (cheering) and then maybe au bar. mon there's a party for charlie at china club, and then there's heaps of shopping i am to get to and...

so i think it may be possible to have a job that's rad!

decisions

so i have been bad abt updating this blog. however, some good news: i got a fantastic job as a librarian for this rad women's nonprofit! i'm super excited, and i even negotiated my salary; my job now wanted to give me more hours and if i worked ft at my current job, i'd get paid more...so i was able to negotiate a higher salary. but, yay, i can't wait!

i'm listening to the evita soundtrack (with madonna and antonio banderas) and if antonio were here in my apartment, i'd have sex with him immediately. sorry, t.

t and i also didn't break up. we are, however, going to see other people, whatever that means. i suppose that means i can have sex with antonio banderas, but it's highly unlikely he's coming to greenpoint today.

my grandma's dog has cancer and is predicted to only live another month or so.

i gained weight.

people from my old life--or, rather, years ago, have started contacting me again. it's strange the way time makes you realize how you've changed.

oh, there's the buzzer. i believe it's antonio. ciao!

only in brooklyn

the other day, while cooling down after a speed workout, i saw that the street had just been covered in tar. the previous day i ran across the street through wet tar and spent the rest of my run trying to scrape the tar off my sneakers.

"excuse me, how do i cross if i don't want to muck my sneakers up with tar?"

the construction workers paused, laughed, and being to gesticulate.

"wait! hop on!" said a passing older man--by older i mean probably in his sixties.

i hopped on his back and the construction workers laughed as he brought me to the other side. i thanked him profusely.

"so is that how people are crossing the street?" a woman asked me.

dancing away the wednesdays

last night i went to le souk to see my friend gal dj. le souk is an awesome east village bar--no, bar is too weak a word, but club is too strong (maybe if we lived in kansas we'd consider this a club but in nyc, it's too small), and louge gives forth the idea that we are just sitting around, drinking, listening to some dj while talking politics. le souk has big hookah pipes were people smoke (and yes, people smoke cigs there too, :( ), amazing food, great decour, two floors, a big bed to lounge in, and an amazing drummer who beat along to the music. it was fantastic. i danced a lot (in my librarian clothes, no less).

one guy started dancing with him and i'm feeling pretty solitary so i mostly ignored him. then he lifted up his shirt, flexing his stomach muscles, and suddenly i realized he's gay. i have a gay magnet in me; if a men approaches me it is because he is gay (90% of the time). like when jessica told me to talk to someone on friday night, the one man i picked is a gay archivist living in greenpoint. i was tipsy so i didn't realize it until halfway through our conversation that he is gay, and he was so cool. it's not like i'm looking for someone right now. (keeping my fingers crossed for things to work out with t, but if it does not, i am not dating anyone for a while. a long while. i will always have love for t in my heart.) an albanian plumber hit on me, and he said, "i fix your leaks. do you have any leaks?" i said, "actually, yes, my bathtub is leaking and my super is being lame and not coming over." he said nothing, then asked me for the eighth time what i wanted to drink, and i told him for the eighth time i wasn't drinking anything else that evening. gal gave me some of his drink tickets earlier and i was done. i don't need to drink to have fun--plus i'm starting to train more seriously in my running so i don't want to be drunk if i have to do a speed workout.

at nearly three i realized i should get home and said goodbye to gal. the dancefloor was packed, people were smoking from the hookahs, and the bouncer winked at me. i realized that this is my new york city, my life, and i'm happy in it. it's not perfect, but it's my life, and i'm doing okay with it right now.