we have the same obsession for our cats. we call each other and leave voicemails for the other solely of our cats meowing.
if my sister and her boyfriend break up, i can see us living together in a one bedroom apartment (twin beds with a little night table in between) with our sixteen cats, bitching and complaining with white hair and bad track suits...ooh, getting old can be fun!
27 September 2006
26 September 2006
so i'm totally obsessed
...but when i saw the new ads on the subway for the nyc marathon, i was SO excited!!! i can't wait--39 days until i run 26.2!!!!
a sad thing
i was at my gynecologist today when she asked me, "is your relationship over?"
"yes," i told her.
"oh that's so sad. a sad thing. so sad," she told me.
"yes," i told her.
"oh that's so sad. a sad thing. so sad," she told me.
22 September 2006
adventures in running; or, i did not see any guns on my run this morning
on wednesday i was so excited about running an excellent speed workout, giving my all my final 800 meters and running 7 seconds faster than my fastest so far. who know thursday's workout could hardly compare?
cara and i met and ran over the 59th street bridge (aka the queensboro bridge) into manhattan. i am trying to run over the 59th st bridge as much as possible to practice for the marathon (ugh, mile 15 or 16, ow). we ran down york and then 1st, until the stupid cops yelled at us over by the UN and made us run across a street and climb across cement barricades. we ran down along the east river park, both of us a bit tired but feeling well.
we began running across the williamsburg bridge when i heard jingling. no one else was nearby us on the pedestrian walkway and when i turned to the road below us (maybe 5 or 10 feet below us), i saw a guy walking/running through the cars, keys jangling around his neck, while a cop jogged alongside him. "hmmm, maybe he had an accident." i didn't think much of it...
until i noticed a man standing, pointing his gun. a gun. this is new york still, but still, OMG, a gun! and i'm running in my cute little running outfit several feet away. his back was to me but he was pointing a gun.
i grabbed cara's arm. "run. run! quick!"
"what?" she hadn't seen anything.
i began sprinting in the opposite direction, towards where we had just run from. "a man. with a gun. a gun."
"oh my god!"
cara began sprinting and when we heard something clatter, we feared for the worst and RAN. we run every day but this day, i was convinced we were running for our lives.
the cars were all completely stopped, the cops having blocked traffic completely. cabbies and confused commuters asked us, "what is it?"
"a gun. a guy with a gun!" it was hard not to be hysterical. sure, you see people with guns in movies, but the last place--a place i've been running since i was 19--i expected to see a gun was here, at 7am, during the crush of rush hour. maybe when cara and i explored bedstuy and bushwick, neighborhoods known for seedier histories, but the bridge, where many biked and ran and walked over every day, for work and pleasure?
"what are we going to do?"
i was not running across the bridge if someone had a gun--no, i think i don't feel like getting shot on my run. not on my plans for today (or any day, to be honest). we could hitchhike to the other side of the bridge, run home from there. the traffic was flowing unimpeded in that direction.
"my phone! shit! my phone!" cara realized her phone had fallen in the sprint--that was the clatter, not gunshots as we had thought. we realized it wasn't as far where the guy with the gun was so we began walking rather cautiously over the bridge until we saw it.
and then we saw, walking in traffic, in handcuffs, was the guy, with many cops surrounding him.
we ran home, silence alternating with discussions of what we had just seen. i've lived in new york my whole life save two years, and have never seen this before. no more gossip about dating or complaints about work; right now, i'm just happy to be alive and running.
cara and i met and ran over the 59th street bridge (aka the queensboro bridge) into manhattan. i am trying to run over the 59th st bridge as much as possible to practice for the marathon (ugh, mile 15 or 16, ow). we ran down york and then 1st, until the stupid cops yelled at us over by the UN and made us run across a street and climb across cement barricades. we ran down along the east river park, both of us a bit tired but feeling well.
we began running across the williamsburg bridge when i heard jingling. no one else was nearby us on the pedestrian walkway and when i turned to the road below us (maybe 5 or 10 feet below us), i saw a guy walking/running through the cars, keys jangling around his neck, while a cop jogged alongside him. "hmmm, maybe he had an accident." i didn't think much of it...
until i noticed a man standing, pointing his gun. a gun. this is new york still, but still, OMG, a gun! and i'm running in my cute little running outfit several feet away. his back was to me but he was pointing a gun.
i grabbed cara's arm. "run. run! quick!"
"what?" she hadn't seen anything.
i began sprinting in the opposite direction, towards where we had just run from. "a man. with a gun. a gun."
"oh my god!"
cara began sprinting and when we heard something clatter, we feared for the worst and RAN. we run every day but this day, i was convinced we were running for our lives.
the cars were all completely stopped, the cops having blocked traffic completely. cabbies and confused commuters asked us, "what is it?"
"a gun. a guy with a gun!" it was hard not to be hysterical. sure, you see people with guns in movies, but the last place--a place i've been running since i was 19--i expected to see a gun was here, at 7am, during the crush of rush hour. maybe when cara and i explored bedstuy and bushwick, neighborhoods known for seedier histories, but the bridge, where many biked and ran and walked over every day, for work and pleasure?
"what are we going to do?"
i was not running across the bridge if someone had a gun--no, i think i don't feel like getting shot on my run. not on my plans for today (or any day, to be honest). we could hitchhike to the other side of the bridge, run home from there. the traffic was flowing unimpeded in that direction.
"my phone! shit! my phone!" cara realized her phone had fallen in the sprint--that was the clatter, not gunshots as we had thought. we realized it wasn't as far where the guy with the gun was so we began walking rather cautiously over the bridge until we saw it.
and then we saw, walking in traffic, in handcuffs, was the guy, with many cops surrounding him.
we ran home, silence alternating with discussions of what we had just seen. i've lived in new york my whole life save two years, and have never seen this before. no more gossip about dating or complaints about work; right now, i'm just happy to be alive and running.
19 September 2006
oh no!
i accidentally broke my "no outfit is complete without a fabulous purse" mug.
i got it as a favour at a bridal shower. teehee.
i got it as a favour at a bridal shower. teehee.
16 September 2006
i ran twenty miles this morning
...my longest run yet. my body is aching but i am so proud of myself. i ran most of the time with a portfolio manager for jpmc (although he only ran 16 miles) and found the last ten miles the most difficult. when they told me on my final lap i of central park i only had to do three miles, i kissed the nyrr official on the cheek.
the best part of the run was when the 8:30 runners came behind me in the last half-mile and were singing frank sinatra's "new york new york." it was a very emotional time and exciting part of my run.
and tonight i will soak in a hot bath with epsom salts and lavendar oils before going out....and my appetite is never squelched the day of a long run.
the best part of the run was when the 8:30 runners came behind me in the last half-mile and were singing frank sinatra's "new york new york." it was a very emotional time and exciting part of my run.
and tonight i will soak in a hot bath with epsom salts and lavendar oils before going out....and my appetite is never squelched the day of a long run.
15 September 2006
today's run--splash
cara and i were almost done with our 80-minute run today (in the last mile, or even, last half-mile, perhaps), chatting, running, sweating, in the foggy morning mist. we were running down kent (a messed up road with enormous puddles in it because the drains were too high up for the water to flow down) and passed a stopped car with two men in it. several minutes later, we heard the car gunning its engine...and a loud SPLASH!
the car sped through an enormous puddle, soaking and shocking us. i immediately gave the guy the finger, but then looked at cara, who looked as shocked as i was. we looked at the car driving slowly down the road (the intentionality of the act was obvious) and then back at each other.
and began laughing hysterically.
to just intentionally splash two running women? what the fuck? but somehow, it was hilarious.
we ran home the last minutes, and both of us showered shortly afterwards.
the car sped through an enormous puddle, soaking and shocking us. i immediately gave the guy the finger, but then looked at cara, who looked as shocked as i was. we looked at the car driving slowly down the road (the intentionality of the act was obvious) and then back at each other.
and began laughing hysterically.
to just intentionally splash two running women? what the fuck? but somehow, it was hilarious.
we ran home the last minutes, and both of us showered shortly afterwards.
14 September 2006
what's really been making me happy lately
on my runs i've been catching myself: a huge smile seems to be across my face at most times. whether i'm running with someone or alone, as long as i'm laced up in my sauconies and moving fast, i'm happier than any other time. i can't help but smile...
13 September 2006
how the pro-choice movement saved america: a book review
I just finished Cristina Page's fabulous book of the above title, an overview of choice, family, and its opponents in the US. In case you didn't know, anti-choicers (who like to call themselves pro-life) are also anti-family. These anti-choicers are also often anti-birth control, and if you don't have birth control, you are going to end up with abortion. The "abstinence-only" education that America's moronic president is funding and encouraging is only leading to teen pregnancies at astounding rates or riskier behaviors. The latter reminds me of a now-defunct yet hilarious website, Technical Virgin, that had fake ads of teens saying things like, "My boyfriend was pressuring me for sex, but I want to save myself and do good in college. So now my friend and I put a live girl-on-girl show for our boyfriends. We pleasure ourselves and prevent our cherries from being popped," OR, "I was so worried about getting pregnant and wanted to save that for marriage. So now my boyfriend gives it to me up the butt and we don't have to worry about that." That is so scary because teens are actually doing it.
And choice is VERY, VERY important. Without choice, we are locked into religion controlling our government.
Roe, roe, Roe v. Wade,
Our bodies are our own,
A woman's choice is a human right,
So leave the cunts alone.
And choice is VERY, VERY important. Without choice, we are locked into religion controlling our government.
Roe, roe, Roe v. Wade,
Our bodies are our own,
A woman's choice is a human right,
So leave the cunts alone.
12 September 2006
it's september 12th today
i went for my pre-dawn run today and the towers of light were still visible, and the empire state building still blasting redwhiteandblue. ran quite far and quite fast, meditating in my own way on my life and life in general.
Quote by Nina Kuscsik, marathoner
"I've always felt running is a form of meditation. Running enables us to stop our lives, to go out and find a safe place for ourselves."
11 September 2006
autumn tonight, on 11 september
i avoided the media today. people from our west coast office sent a notice over to us that they are thinking of us. but i knew what it was, and that was partially the reason i was feeling down.
in memoriam to all those who have suffered since that day, from those that were killed on the 11th of september in nyc, dc, and pa, as well as those who have been killed in afghanistan, iraq, and anywhere else the usa decided needed to be cleaned of "terrorists."
riding my bike home from jp's house, i saw the redwhiteandblue of the empire state building, saw the towers of light. safe in my home, food in my belly, i feel lucky.
in memoriam to all those who have suffered since that day, from those that were killed on the 11th of september in nyc, dc, and pa, as well as those who have been killed in afghanistan, iraq, and anywhere else the usa decided needed to be cleaned of "terrorists."
riding my bike home from jp's house, i saw the redwhiteandblue of the empire state building, saw the towers of light. safe in my home, food in my belly, i feel lucky.
things that are going on
i'm feeling a bit depressed today. it could be the lack of sleep catching up to me, or the fact that my apartment is super messy, or the fact that i lost *everything* in my pocket pc when the battery died and everything got erased, or it could be the fact that i'm listening to bob dylan and feeling broken-hearted (he always creates that feeling in me, or emphasizes it if i feel it already), or it could be the feeling that it's the 5th anniversary of september 11th attacks.
i was thinking: people mention things like d day or pearl harbour attacks, and youngins are like, "yeah, so what? we don't get a day off and we weren't there and what happened anyway?" i wonder how long it will be before those people are around and how long it will be before new yorkers feel safe and the pain lessens? i suppose we'll need those pesky, rude, and obnoxious tourists to stop mugging for photos in front of a construction site where thousands of people died.
but back to bob, back to work. i know that sadness is only temporary. there are clouds but there is sunshine too. i'm relatively happy, even if the sadness (and stress) has been clouding my dreams lately. this is a time when i need a roommate (as marie had done before) to shout, "cherie you are NOT listening to this! we are putting on happy music."
i was thinking: people mention things like d day or pearl harbour attacks, and youngins are like, "yeah, so what? we don't get a day off and we weren't there and what happened anyway?" i wonder how long it will be before those people are around and how long it will be before new yorkers feel safe and the pain lessens? i suppose we'll need those pesky, rude, and obnoxious tourists to stop mugging for photos in front of a construction site where thousands of people died.
but back to bob, back to work. i know that sadness is only temporary. there are clouds but there is sunshine too. i'm relatively happy, even if the sadness (and stress) has been clouding my dreams lately. this is a time when i need a roommate (as marie had done before) to shout, "cherie you are NOT listening to this! we are putting on happy music."
most likely you go your way and i go mine (bob dylan)
You say you love me
And you're thinkin' of me,
But you know you could be wrong.
You say you told me
That you wanna hold me,
But you know you're not that strong.
I just can't do what I done before,
I just can't beg you any more.
I'm gonna let you pass
And I'll go last.
Then time will tell just who fell
And who's been left behind,
When you go your way and I go mine.
And you're thinkin' of me,
But you know you could be wrong.
You say you told me
That you wanna hold me,
But you know you're not that strong.
I just can't do what I done before,
I just can't beg you any more.
I'm gonna let you pass
And I'll go last.
Then time will tell just who fell
And who's been left behind,
When you go your way and I go mine.
My favourite things about summertime: In mourning of summertime
My dads tomatoes
Amazing fresh produce
Most fruit being in season (ooh, ripe luscious peaches are my latest addiction)
The beach
Running in shorts and a sports bra and socksÂ…how freeing
Miniskirts
Sandals
Sand in toes
No jackets, mittens, scarves
Free concerts, free plays, free things outdoors
Running in the summer
Open windows
Walks with Luna in the park
Iced chai
Rooftop parties
Sweaty kisses
Drinking the air
Sunsets
Fireworks
Barbeques
Parties in parks and yards
Outdoor sports
Naps in the sun
Spending the day outdoors
Amazing fresh produce
Most fruit being in season (ooh, ripe luscious peaches are my latest addiction)
The beach
Running in shorts and a sports bra and socksÂ…how freeing
Miniskirts
Sandals
Sand in toes
No jackets, mittens, scarves
Free concerts, free plays, free things outdoors
Running in the summer
Open windows
Walks with Luna in the park
Iced chai
Rooftop parties
Sweaty kisses
Drinking the air
Sunsets
Fireworks
Barbeques
Parties in parks and yards
Outdoor sports
Naps in the sun
Spending the day outdoors
10 September 2006
why i love running in new york city
on a seventeen miler yesterday, i saw two guys boxing on the side of the reservoir.
09 September 2006
an imaginary conversation
he said, "you've changed since we broke up."
she said, "yes, i've started wearing eyeliner."
she said, "yes, i've started wearing eyeliner."
08 September 2006
shout out to wanda
wanda, i fucking love you. thank you for all your help with my recent (personal) crisis. i know talking about these issues must have been hard for you, bringing up all those bad memories, but you really helped me heaps. i love you for that! wanda, you rule!
07 September 2006
03 September 2006
and then you think,
"wow, i am so glad we are no longer together."
you never thought you'd say that, right?
(note: the you is not referring to a specific you.)
you never thought you'd say that, right?
(note: the you is not referring to a specific you.)
i know i'm hot, but really, must you constantly remind me?
in training for the nyc marathon, i am covering a lot of mileage. i typically wear my sauconies, socks, shorts, and a sports bra. (if it's cooler, i add a t-shirt but i prefer wearing as little as possible, being as lightweight as possible while running.) and it seems so many men have never seen a woman running before. or perhaps it is, as my running partner cara said, "there is a rule that men must stop what they are doing and stare at women running." must be it.
i'm sick of men leering out windows, honking, whistling, yelling, "complimenting," harassing, shouting, stopping, gawking, licking their lips, giving me the up-and-down...come on, i'm a sweaty woman running and i'm obviously not interested in you. i'm focusing on my training, on my sport.
maybe--this must be it--if i see someone who strikes my fancy after yelling a "nice ass" i might rip off my clothes, fling myself on the front of their car and say, "let's just do it right here." is that it?
does paula radcliffe deal with this? deena kastor?
i really am fed up with the shouting, the harassing. i just want to do my run and be left alone.
my run is for me not for you fuck you my run is for me leave me alone my run is for me
i'm sick of men leering out windows, honking, whistling, yelling, "complimenting," harassing, shouting, stopping, gawking, licking their lips, giving me the up-and-down...come on, i'm a sweaty woman running and i'm obviously not interested in you. i'm focusing on my training, on my sport.
maybe--this must be it--if i see someone who strikes my fancy after yelling a "nice ass" i might rip off my clothes, fling myself on the front of their car and say, "let's just do it right here." is that it?
does paula radcliffe deal with this? deena kastor?
i really am fed up with the shouting, the harassing. i just want to do my run and be left alone.
my run is for me not for you fuck you my run is for me leave me alone my run is for me
02 September 2006
30 August 2006
my heart is going out to tonks right now
one of my terrific radical cheerleading friends moved from florida to tennessee and was telling me about the hatred of gay people. the homophobia, the "christian" hate--it's part of why she is considering leaving tn. tonks baby girl, i love you, and there's heaps of people out there who love you. don't let the hate bring you down and remember, love is so much stronger than hate.
29 August 2006
reader, has this ever happened to you?
crossing cobblestone streets, i suddenly was overcome with sadness, and had to bite my lip (hard, oh, so fucking hard) to prevent tears from escaping my eyes and tumbling down my cheeks.
28 August 2006
27 August 2006
nyc inaugural half marathon!
i ran the nyc inaugural half marathon today--and must admit i had a brilliant time doing so! i woke up just after 4am (an hour before my alarm was to go off, because i couldn't sleep). i got ready (hot pink shorts, magenta sports bra, ponytail, four barrettes (two on each side), sweatband and spent the rest of the time before my friends picked me up. at the start, we stretched, waited in long lines for the port-a-potties, and went to the start. after a bit of confusion of where the corrals were, we lined up. in line, we joked around and stretched.
the race itself was fun. i ran most of it with cara (who is about my pace, a bit quicker maybe), and my foot didn't hurt. we did a loop and then some around central park, and then ran down 7th avenue, across 42nd st (and we all got chills running through times square, HOW AMAZING!), then down the west side highway...it was brilliant! around mile 10, cara left to run a bit faster, and i finished in 1:47. i was pleased with this time, as the past three weeks i have been facing injuries and have run very little. i'm now a big fan of cross-training--prevents injury and keeps you in decent-enough shape.
after, we hung out, had brunch and i realized how nice it is to hang out with runners.
the race itself was fun. i ran most of it with cara (who is about my pace, a bit quicker maybe), and my foot didn't hurt. we did a loop and then some around central park, and then ran down 7th avenue, across 42nd st (and we all got chills running through times square, HOW AMAZING!), then down the west side highway...it was brilliant! around mile 10, cara left to run a bit faster, and i finished in 1:47. i was pleased with this time, as the past three weeks i have been facing injuries and have run very little. i'm now a big fan of cross-training--prevents injury and keeps you in decent-enough shape.
after, we hung out, had brunch and i realized how nice it is to hang out with runners.
26 August 2006
i'm *such* a dork
i went on the nyrr's website for the half-marathon again today (i already have a printed up map hanging at my desk at work, another in my home, and gave rachelle a third map!) and watched the commercial, "i run in new york" and got so excited! now i'm researching chafing and trying to decide which pink running outfit to wear!!!!
i hope my foot is well enough to run competitively (though i've had three weeks of shitty-to-no training with all my injuries); still, i can't wait! i'm running new york!
i hope my foot is well enough to run competitively (though i've had three weeks of shitty-to-no training with all my injuries); still, i can't wait! i'm running new york!
our standards
jokingly (but not) i said to rosa this morning as i scrambled our eggs, "all i want in someone is for them to live in new york and to like breakfast."
25 August 2006
quote of the day (i swear i didn't say it)
"I don’t think it will be hard to seduce him. All I have to do is get him into my apartment."
24 August 2006
keep those old journals...
so when you start feeling nostalgic, or confused, or wondering if you've made the wrong decision, you can look back, see how badly you hurt, and realize, yes, it is time to go on.
i watched reality bites for the first time in years...
and i'm still rooting for troy. michael is the practical yuppie but he still disgusts me. i'm into the philosophical, the thinker, the creative one, the artist...anyone but the yuppie. i don't like practicality or a future to brag to my family about. i live on dreams instead...
class
i've been thinking about class lately; class is one of the things people don't like to talk about. at my job, we research gender, diversity, race, sexual orientation...but what about class? class is something that generally we can't control (if we're born into it) but other times we can (like quitting our corporate jobs and going nonprofit--but even when i was working for "the man" i was def not upper class). people are super sensitive about class issues because they feel like they shouldn't have to apologize for it. (i'm so fucking glad we don't have titles, fuck that english "duke" etc shit.) i think the hardest thing about it is it's not paid attention to very often, so we don't feel like we need to deal with it. what am i saying? i'm not really sure. i grew up middle class, am struggling (a bit) now but still am unsure of what i am. i'm a single woman living alone, no plans for marriage, children, any of that. (marriage is a whole other issue since i live in a hateful country that won't allow for many of my best friends to marry.) is class something you grow into when you become an adult? this job is my career but i know it's not my only one. i plan to do it until i quit to travel--extensive traveling, and then settle someplace else.
and maybe where i settle class won't matter much...
and maybe where i settle class won't matter much...
22 August 2006
breakups
i'm wondering if breakups are ever truly mutual, if people are actually friends with their exes afterwards. i'm trying to be friends with t, but i don't seem to know how to do it. he disappointed me so much (and i ended it, b/c of that) that it seems i find it hard to find him sincere. he will always have a spot in my heart, but i don't think a breakup can ever be like, "well, we're just better this way" and the people are actually friends.
does, "let's just be friends" ever work? or is one person always wanting more?
i really like being alone right now. i like learning to redefine myself as me, as cherie, and it's hard, but i'm doing it. still, when i see a flash from the past, there's pain, and it's like, "this is why i moved on."
does, "let's just be friends" ever work? or is one person always wanting more?
i really like being alone right now. i like learning to redefine myself as me, as cherie, and it's hard, but i'm doing it. still, when i see a flash from the past, there's pain, and it's like, "this is why i moved on."
21 August 2006
beach me
I somehow became obsessed with the beach lately.
This might have to do with the fact that I dated a marine biologist for over six years; or it might have to do with the fact that when we do (occasionally, still) see each other, that is one of the main things we continue doing; or it might be due to the fact that Rachelle loves the beach and we have become better friends this summer (probably due to our breakups--I think this bonded us closer); or it might be due to the fact that I have a number of bikinis; or it might be due to the fact that I live in New York City, a train ride's away to the beach; or it might be due to the fact that I just love lying in the sun in a bikini with a book, applying suntan lotion, splashing in the waves as if I were a child, eating sandy sandwiches and enjoying New York City's local sport of people watching.
I really love the beach this summer. I went twice this past weekend; once with Emily F., once with the infamous Rachelle (my best beach date this summer). As I am training for the marathon, I have given up drinking socially (a glass of wine here or a drink there, yes; but drunken nights on Ludlow, stumbling with J from the Dark Room to the Annex to Max Fish to wherever, flirting, sipping, laughing, no)--this is a new way to socialize. We can chill at the beach, talk, catch up on each other's lives, goss, our reading, maybe meet some new friends (though this doesn't seem to happen as it did in high school, when Crystal and I would take the train to Long Beach and flirt with cute seventeen-year-old surfer boys from Long Island who were always from towns much cooler than our extremely boring (and non-beach-containing) town).
Sigh...
I do admit, as I said to Jamie (and probably everyone I've been to the beach with recently), "The beach would just be perfect if it weren't for all this sand." Ah, I know, yes, then it wouldn't be the beach. So I love it.
Spending last summer in Europe, I went to some lovely beaches. I adored Dubrovnik's beaches with its phenomenal views, and also had an interesting time in Amalfi (where a speedo-wearing slick-talking late-thirtysomething Italian man had me rowed out to his boat, where we splashed, rode into Amalfi Town, talked, and then he gave me a ride on his Vespa to my hostel). I must admit, the sand was rarely as nice as it is in New York (yes, even NYC!). Rocky beaches, or the horridly difficult beach of Riomaggiore (where one person left the beach before I arrived with medical assistance as he slipped on the rocks and hurt himself badly). I do like American beaches, though I don't like the close-minded nature of people about women sunbathing topless. Tan lines (esp the traditional bikini lines around the neck that are most visible in summertime months) are not very attractive.
I have been becoming a connoisseur of sands. Coney Island--yuck, though it is very NYC as J says, and you can always go on the rides, play skeeball or walk the boardwalk. Brighton Beach has nice sand, and small (or no) waves, which I like. Jacob Riis has lovely sand, but crashing waves. Long Beach is expensive ($7 per person; I'm used to using my Nassau County drivers license to pay $6 per car with T, which is split between all of the car's inhabitants) but with nice waves. Jones Beach is nice but I *hate* the walk from the car/bus to the beach. So far. Also crowded. Point Lookout is all families (and where my parents always took me as a child) and I do admit, Lido is probably my favorite.
I went to the beach yesterday, and the day before, and I am excited about going to the beach this Saturday--Robert Moses. Me, Rachelle, maybe some sandwiches, trashy novels--sounds like a fantastic day to me.
This might have to do with the fact that I dated a marine biologist for over six years; or it might have to do with the fact that when we do (occasionally, still) see each other, that is one of the main things we continue doing; or it might be due to the fact that Rachelle loves the beach and we have become better friends this summer (probably due to our breakups--I think this bonded us closer); or it might be due to the fact that I have a number of bikinis; or it might be due to the fact that I live in New York City, a train ride's away to the beach; or it might be due to the fact that I just love lying in the sun in a bikini with a book, applying suntan lotion, splashing in the waves as if I were a child, eating sandy sandwiches and enjoying New York City's local sport of people watching.
I really love the beach this summer. I went twice this past weekend; once with Emily F., once with the infamous Rachelle (my best beach date this summer). As I am training for the marathon, I have given up drinking socially (a glass of wine here or a drink there, yes; but drunken nights on Ludlow, stumbling with J from the Dark Room to the Annex to Max Fish to wherever, flirting, sipping, laughing, no)--this is a new way to socialize. We can chill at the beach, talk, catch up on each other's lives, goss, our reading, maybe meet some new friends (though this doesn't seem to happen as it did in high school, when Crystal and I would take the train to Long Beach and flirt with cute seventeen-year-old surfer boys from Long Island who were always from towns much cooler than our extremely boring (and non-beach-containing) town).
Sigh...
I do admit, as I said to Jamie (and probably everyone I've been to the beach with recently), "The beach would just be perfect if it weren't for all this sand." Ah, I know, yes, then it wouldn't be the beach. So I love it.
Spending last summer in Europe, I went to some lovely beaches. I adored Dubrovnik's beaches with its phenomenal views, and also had an interesting time in Amalfi (where a speedo-wearing slick-talking late-thirtysomething Italian man had me rowed out to his boat, where we splashed, rode into Amalfi Town, talked, and then he gave me a ride on his Vespa to my hostel). I must admit, the sand was rarely as nice as it is in New York (yes, even NYC!). Rocky beaches, or the horridly difficult beach of Riomaggiore (where one person left the beach before I arrived with medical assistance as he slipped on the rocks and hurt himself badly). I do like American beaches, though I don't like the close-minded nature of people about women sunbathing topless. Tan lines (esp the traditional bikini lines around the neck that are most visible in summertime months) are not very attractive.
I have been becoming a connoisseur of sands. Coney Island--yuck, though it is very NYC as J says, and you can always go on the rides, play skeeball or walk the boardwalk. Brighton Beach has nice sand, and small (or no) waves, which I like. Jacob Riis has lovely sand, but crashing waves. Long Beach is expensive ($7 per person; I'm used to using my Nassau County drivers license to pay $6 per car with T, which is split between all of the car's inhabitants) but with nice waves. Jones Beach is nice but I *hate* the walk from the car/bus to the beach. So far. Also crowded. Point Lookout is all families (and where my parents always took me as a child) and I do admit, Lido is probably my favorite.
I went to the beach yesterday, and the day before, and I am excited about going to the beach this Saturday--Robert Moses. Me, Rachelle, maybe some sandwiches, trashy novels--sounds like a fantastic day to me.
beach me
I somehow became obsessed with the beach lately.
This might have to do with the fact that I dated a marine biologist for over six years; or it might have to do with the fact that when we do (occasionally, still) see each other, that is one of the main things we continue doing; or it might be due to the fact that Rachelle loves the beach and we have become better friends this summer (probably due to our breakups--I think this bonded us closer); or it might be due to the fact that I have a number of bikinis; or it might be due to the fact that I live in New York City, a train ride's away to the beach; or it might be due to the fact that I just love lying in the sun in a bikini with a book, applying suntan lotion, splashing in the waves as if I were a child, eating sandy sandwiches and enjoying New York City's local sport of people watching.
I really love the beach this summer. I went twice this past weekend; once with Emily F., once with the infamous Rachelle (my best beach date this summer). As I am training for the marathon, I have given up drinking socially (a glass of wine here or a drink there, yes; but drunken nights on Ludlow, stumbling with J from the Dark Room to the Annex to Max Fish to wherever, flirting, sipping, laughing, no)--this is a new way to socialize. We can chill at the beach, talk, catch up on each other's lives, goss, our reading, maybe meet some new friends (though this doesn't seem to happen as it did in high school, when Crystal and I would take the train to Long Beach and flirt with cute seventeen-year-old surfer boys from Long Island who were always from towns much cooler than our extremely boring (and non-beach-containing) town).
Sigh...
I do admit, as I said to Jamie (and probably everyone I've been to the beach with recently), "The beach would just be perfect if it weren't for all this sand." Ah, I know, yes, then it wouldn't be the beach. So I love it.
Spending last summer in Europe, I went to some lovely beaches. I adored Dubrovnik's beaches with its phenomenal views, and also had an interesting time in Amalfi (where a speedo-wearing slick-talking late-thirtysomething Italian man had me rowed out to his boat, where we splashed, rode into Amalfi Town, talked, and then he gave me a ride on his Vespa to my hostel). I must admit, the sand was rarely as nice as it is in New York (yes, even NYC!). Rocky beaches, or the horridly difficult beach of Riomaggiore (where one person left the beach before I arrived with medical assistance as he slipped on the rocks and hurt himself badly). I do like American beaches, though I don't like the close-minded nature of people about women sunbathing topless. Tan lines (esp the traditional bikini lines around the neck that are most visible in summertime months) are not very attractive.
I have been becoming a connoisseur of sands. Coney Island--yuck, though it is very NYC as J says, and you can always go on the rides, play skeeball or walk the boardwalk. Brighton Beach has nice sand, and small (or no) waves, which I like. Jacob Riis has lovely sand, but crashing waves. Long Beach is expensive ($7 per person; I'm used to using my Nassau County drivers license to pay $6 per car with T, which is split between all of the car's inhabitants) but with nice waves. Jones Beach is nice but I *hate* the walk from the car/bus to the beach. So far. Also crowded. Point Lookout is all families (and where my parents always took me as a child) and I do admit, Lido is probably my favorite.
I went to the beach yesterday, and the day before, and I am excited about going to the beach this Saturday--Robert Moses. Me, Rachelle, maybe some sandwiches, trashy novels--sounds like a fantastic day to me.
This might have to do with the fact that I dated a marine biologist for over six years; or it might have to do with the fact that when we do (occasionally, still) see each other, that is one of the main things we continue doing; or it might be due to the fact that Rachelle loves the beach and we have become better friends this summer (probably due to our breakups--I think this bonded us closer); or it might be due to the fact that I have a number of bikinis; or it might be due to the fact that I live in New York City, a train ride's away to the beach; or it might be due to the fact that I just love lying in the sun in a bikini with a book, applying suntan lotion, splashing in the waves as if I were a child, eating sandy sandwiches and enjoying New York City's local sport of people watching.
I really love the beach this summer. I went twice this past weekend; once with Emily F., once with the infamous Rachelle (my best beach date this summer). As I am training for the marathon, I have given up drinking socially (a glass of wine here or a drink there, yes; but drunken nights on Ludlow, stumbling with J from the Dark Room to the Annex to Max Fish to wherever, flirting, sipping, laughing, no)--this is a new way to socialize. We can chill at the beach, talk, catch up on each other's lives, goss, our reading, maybe meet some new friends (though this doesn't seem to happen as it did in high school, when Crystal and I would take the train to Long Beach and flirt with cute seventeen-year-old surfer boys from Long Island who were always from towns much cooler than our extremely boring (and non-beach-containing) town).
Sigh...
I do admit, as I said to Jamie (and probably everyone I've been to the beach with recently), "The beach would just be perfect if it weren't for all this sand." Ah, I know, yes, then it wouldn't be the beach. So I love it.
Spending last summer in Europe, I went to some lovely beaches. I adored Dubrovnik's beaches with its phenomenal views, and also had an interesting time in Amalfi (where a speedo-wearing slick-talking late-thirtysomething Italian man had me rowed out to his boat, where we splashed, rode into Amalfi Town, talked, and then he gave me a ride on his Vespa to my hostel). I must admit, the sand was rarely as nice as it is in New York (yes, even NYC!). Rocky beaches, or the horridly difficult beach of Riomaggiore (where one person left the beach before I arrived with medical assistance as he slipped on the rocks and hurt himself badly). I do like American beaches, though I don't like the close-minded nature of people about women sunbathing topless. Tan lines (esp the traditional bikini lines around the neck that are most visible in summertime months) are not very attractive.
I have been becoming a connoisseur of sands. Coney Island--yuck, though it is very NYC as J says, and you can always go on the rides, play skeeball or walk the boardwalk. Brighton Beach has nice sand, and small (or no) waves, which I like. Jacob Riis has lovely sand, but crashing waves. Long Beach is expensive ($7 per person; I'm used to using my Nassau County drivers license to pay $6 per car with T, which is split between all of the car's inhabitants) but with nice waves. Jones Beach is nice but I *hate* the walk from the car/bus to the beach. So far. Also crowded. Point Lookout is all families (and where my parents always took me as a child) and I do admit, Lido is probably my favorite.
I went to the beach yesterday, and the day before, and I am excited about going to the beach this Saturday--Robert Moses. Me, Rachelle, maybe some sandwiches, trashy novels--sounds like a fantastic day to me.
20 August 2006
people obsessed with pvd
yup, me and peter. i personally know of three heterosexual men who adore pvd more than i do, who say, "i love pvd!" this is one of them; my friend peter and i, a few weeks ago. friday night we were both dancing our asses off (and hurting our respective injuries further, booo!) at paul van dyk at central park. i fucking love pvd. i never felt like i was having an orgasm while hearing music dancing at a party before. now i know what it's like. thanks, pvd, for playing dogzilla's "without you." i never danced so much nonstop to a dj--he plays no filler, just fucking brilliant music.
a touch of nature
an insect, or bird, twittering outside my window;
i am excited.
sad at how little nature there is in new york city that i become excited about this minor sound.
sometimes, the suburbs have so much to offer.
i am excited.
sad at how little nature there is in new york city that i become excited about this minor sound.
sometimes, the suburbs have so much to offer.
16 August 2006
coffee break
My coworker and I decided to take a break and sit by the East River to talk (we work on Wall Street) so we sat on a bench. All of the other benches were empty until this guy in a white dress shirt sat across from us. Being a territorial New Yorker, Candice said, "Ugh, why does he have to sit right next to us?"
We continue chatting when movement catches my eye. The fucker is masturbating himself on the East River Park & Wall Street, right next to the tourist-filled South Street Seaport. "Get up, move, now!" I tell Candice. She follows and I say, "Quicker!"
I turn around and see him walking away. He knew we knew. I screamed, "Pervert!" and he started running. "PERVERT!"
Next time I need to take a photo. I'm glad I yelled pervert but what a total asshole. Ugh. The last thing I need/want to see in the middle of the day is some middle-age exhibitionist's disgusting penis.
We continue chatting when movement catches my eye. The fucker is masturbating himself on the East River Park & Wall Street, right next to the tourist-filled South Street Seaport. "Get up, move, now!" I tell Candice. She follows and I say, "Quicker!"
I turn around and see him walking away. He knew we knew. I screamed, "Pervert!" and he started running. "PERVERT!"
Next time I need to take a photo. I'm glad I yelled pervert but what a total asshole. Ugh. The last thing I need/want to see in the middle of the day is some middle-age exhibitionist's disgusting penis.
enough cryin lyrics
Enough Cryin' Lyrics
Mary J. Blige
Cause
The sex was good
You had my mind
And I
I let you
Come back
Every time
You would
Violate
And cross
The line
And you
Knew that I
Would be
The type
To always
Wait so patiently
Thinkin'
You was comin'
Home to me
Well
Damn, I never heard
The keys
Or
Felt ya taps
Sayin' are
You sleep
Rewind that!
Cause
The sex was good
You had my mind
And I
I let you
Come back
Every time
You would
Violate
And cross
The line
And you
Knew that I
Would be
The type
To always
Wait so patiently
Thinkin'
You was comin'
Home to me
Well
Damn, I never heard
The keys
Or
Felt ya taps
Sayin' are
You sleep
Chorus:
Don't wanna
Play house
No more
So dumb
To think
You gon'
Marry me
I got to be out
My mind
To think I
Need someone
To carry me
I've done enough
Cryin', cryin', cryin'
(Cryin', cryin', cryin')
It's time to say
Bye, bye, bye
It's time I
Do something
For me
It's time
I choose
My foes
Choose my friends
Be with my family
Baby, listen
Girlfriend
Where you been?
We ain't seen
You in weeks
Been chasin'
This fool around
Thinkin' he gon'
Hold me down
I would
Follow his lead
Thinkin' I would
Be the one
He keep around
When I ain't need
Not ya finance
And all that
I needed
Real commitment
I really couldn't see it
Not the real man
Said you was being
In this relationship
So many men
Think all
A girl needs
Is to be sold
A dream
But I won't
Fall for it
Repeat Chorus 1x
Bridge:
Don't wanna
Play house no more
You treat me wrong
Tired of you
Playin' me
I been lookin'
At the front door
This ain't yours
So let me do me
Don't wanna
Play house no more
No more
Tired of you
Playin' me
I've done enough
Cryin', cryin', cryin'
It's time
I do
Something for Me
Brook's Rap:
You turned ya back
And back
I came runnin'
But the simple
Fact is
That you
Ain't want me
I done enough
Lyin' and cryin'
To myself
Nothin' left
To do but move
What else
Can I do but leave?
I believed-ed you
When Mary need
But now I gotta breeze
I be's with LT
When you come
To ya senses
But then
It's too late
That's always
How it be
Catch me
With the B's
On the wheels
Giuseppe on the heels
Shoulda Marc Jacob
Fe Fe bag me
When you had me
Next dude
Will gladly
Pick up
Where you left off
Ice me
Wife me
You ain't gon'
Have me
[Mary]
Cryin', cryin', cryin'
(Cryin', cryin', cryin')
It's time to say
Bye, bye, bye
It's time I
Do something
For me
Repeat Chorus 2x
Mary J. Blige
Cause
The sex was good
You had my mind
And I
I let you
Come back
Every time
You would
Violate
And cross
The line
And you
Knew that I
Would be
The type
To always
Wait so patiently
Thinkin'
You was comin'
Home to me
Well
Damn, I never heard
The keys
Or
Felt ya taps
Sayin' are
You sleep
Rewind that!
Cause
The sex was good
You had my mind
And I
I let you
Come back
Every time
You would
Violate
And cross
The line
And you
Knew that I
Would be
The type
To always
Wait so patiently
Thinkin'
You was comin'
Home to me
Well
Damn, I never heard
The keys
Or
Felt ya taps
Sayin' are
You sleep
Chorus:
Don't wanna
Play house
No more
So dumb
To think
You gon'
Marry me
I got to be out
My mind
To think I
Need someone
To carry me
I've done enough
Cryin', cryin', cryin'
(Cryin', cryin', cryin')
It's time to say
Bye, bye, bye
It's time I
Do something
For me
It's time
I choose
My foes
Choose my friends
Be with my family
Baby, listen
Girlfriend
Where you been?
We ain't seen
You in weeks
Been chasin'
This fool around
Thinkin' he gon'
Hold me down
I would
Follow his lead
Thinkin' I would
Be the one
He keep around
When I ain't need
Not ya finance
And all that
I needed
Real commitment
I really couldn't see it
Not the real man
Said you was being
In this relationship
So many men
Think all
A girl needs
Is to be sold
A dream
But I won't
Fall for it
Repeat Chorus 1x
Bridge:
Don't wanna
Play house no more
You treat me wrong
Tired of you
Playin' me
I been lookin'
At the front door
This ain't yours
So let me do me
Don't wanna
Play house no more
No more
Tired of you
Playin' me
I've done enough
Cryin', cryin', cryin'
It's time
I do
Something for Me
Brook's Rap:
You turned ya back
And back
I came runnin'
But the simple
Fact is
That you
Ain't want me
I done enough
Lyin' and cryin'
To myself
Nothin' left
To do but move
What else
Can I do but leave?
I believed-ed you
When Mary need
But now I gotta breeze
I be's with LT
When you come
To ya senses
But then
It's too late
That's always
How it be
Catch me
With the B's
On the wheels
Giuseppe on the heels
Shoulda Marc Jacob
Fe Fe bag me
When you had me
Next dude
Will gladly
Pick up
Where you left off
Ice me
Wife me
You ain't gon'
Have me
[Mary]
Cryin', cryin', cryin'
(Cryin', cryin', cryin')
It's time to say
Bye, bye, bye
It's time I
Do something
For me
Repeat Chorus 2x
15 August 2006
sometimes my friends can be bitches but i need them to be
well, that situation related to my own situation w/b... it was just pathetic & i was like 'why am i longing for this person who is not here & hasn t taken another step to be w/me (if we wants to be w/me soo much- as he says.' i think it s def. over for that ill scenario, i m not hanging onto it (from jessica)
thanks, jessica. i know i've been hanging onto the impossible. love is so complicated, so hard, but i can't hold onto it anymore. instead, i feel sad for what i've lost.
i need to smile and look forward to the future, put a brave face on: even if i don't feel brave, i must persevere.
please, be harsh to your friends when they are in love. they may be in love with someone from another country or another state or someone who's married to their sister, and afterwards, they'll thank you for the slap. j's honesty and v's honesty--both of you--i never would have disentangled myself from this mess if it wasn't for the both of you.
even if i did think you were a bitch at the time, or thought it was bitchy, i'm glad you did it.
love hurts.
thanks, jessica. i know i've been hanging onto the impossible. love is so complicated, so hard, but i can't hold onto it anymore. instead, i feel sad for what i've lost.
i need to smile and look forward to the future, put a brave face on: even if i don't feel brave, i must persevere.
please, be harsh to your friends when they are in love. they may be in love with someone from another country or another state or someone who's married to their sister, and afterwards, they'll thank you for the slap. j's honesty and v's honesty--both of you--i never would have disentangled myself from this mess if it wasn't for the both of you.
even if i did think you were a bitch at the time, or thought it was bitchy, i'm glad you did it.
love hurts.
did you know it's legal to fire someone because of their sexual orientation in 33 states?
yep, disgusting. gay marriage is a far dream away. at least in this world of corporate conglomerates, if you work for a big company, chances are they might be opposed to that and you won't be able to.
also depressing in today's new york times:
Ugh. I really hate the homophobia of this country.
also depressing in today's new york times:
Military’s Discharges for Being Gay Rose in ’05
Ugh. I really hate the homophobia of this country.
14 August 2006
why does my body betray me?
i exercise. i eat good--whole grains, vegetarian diet, mostly organic food. i sleep 7 or 8 hours most nights. i drink heaps of water. i don't drink soda, don't drink heaps of alcohol. i stretch, do yoga, don't eat heaps of fat or salt. i don't eat trans fats at all; i eat a minimal amount of high fructose corn syrup.
yet this is the third injury i've had since mid-june. third fucking injury. i have bursitis and my awesome doctor (who likes trance music and we like to chat when i see him) isn't in and is going on vacation wasn't there so i had to see the older doctor who is a total rude prick. manners are beyond him; gruffness is how he handles everything. i can't take off a fucking week of running! i am SO behind in my training already. i hate this. i am going to eat good and sleep and stretch and i am running as soon as it doesn't hurt. i hate my doctor. i need to run. he doesn't understand b/c he is heavy and obviously does not know the love that i feel for running.
running is the most important thing in my life. i lost the great love of my life; running has taken its place.
yet this is the third injury i've had since mid-june. third fucking injury. i have bursitis and my awesome doctor (who likes trance music and we like to chat when i see him) isn't in and is going on vacation wasn't there so i had to see the older doctor who is a total rude prick. manners are beyond him; gruffness is how he handles everything. i can't take off a fucking week of running! i am SO behind in my training already. i hate this. i am going to eat good and sleep and stretch and i am running as soon as it doesn't hurt. i hate my doctor. i need to run. he doesn't understand b/c he is heavy and obviously does not know the love that i feel for running.
running is the most important thing in my life. i lost the great love of my life; running has taken its place.
13 August 2006
getting back into the flirting/dating thing is an odd adventure
scene: the water taxi beach with g and two guys, one of whom is a huge tool (who g is talking to at the time of this discussion)
non-tool guy: you smell really good.
me (making a joke): yeah, i showered today.
ntg: no, you smell really good....like, it's dangerous. i can't keep away from you. it draws me closer to you.
me (feeling uncomfortable at what to say to that): um, okay. (i take a step back, smelling my vanilla spice body lotion and cherie perfume by dior (which is good, esp b/c it shares my name!))
non-tool guy: you smell really good.
me (making a joke): yeah, i showered today.
ntg: no, you smell really good....like, it's dangerous. i can't keep away from you. it draws me closer to you.
me (feeling uncomfortable at what to say to that): um, okay. (i take a step back, smelling my vanilla spice body lotion and cherie perfume by dior (which is good, esp b/c it shares my name!))
you know you're obsessed with marathon training when...
you find goo tasty.
goo (i prefer the power bar power gel kind) is a little packet of squishy carbohydrate-filled mush that you suck out of the little packet during a marathon or longer training run (or just randomly on the street, if you are like me). yum yum yum!
goo (i prefer the power bar power gel kind) is a little packet of squishy carbohydrate-filled mush that you suck out of the little packet during a marathon or longer training run (or just randomly on the street, if you are like me). yum yum yum!
shout out to v
just wanted to provide a shout out to venessa, who's one of the coolest fucking women in the world, and i'm lucky to be such close friends with her. she recently left a difficult relationship and her mountain town to move across the country to start library school and live closer to her family. and it's been hard but she's doing it and i'm so proud of her. perseverence is key, as we all know, but especially v does. she listens to me babble about my relationship difficulties and crushes (she helped me through all my difficult times with t and continues to assist me in romantic entangles, and is one of the only people who doesn't get bored when i babble on and on). she fills my mailbox with thick envelopes full of her neat penmanship, which is always a great surprise and alternative to the many bills. also, venessa has introduced me to so many amazing new bands and musicians...like miri ben-ari (the hip hop violinist--i fucking love her!!!) and the raconteurs and ani difranco and neko case and the gossip and the list could go on pages and pages--and music is very important to me, i'm constantly listening to it so i truly thank v for that. she is a supportive, beautiful, amazing, wonderful, intelligent woman and i am so lucky we are friends. thanks, venessa!
said by g late last night, leaving the red party
"it's guys like that that make me think it's okay to be like, 'pull it out and show it to me.' and then say, 'oh, you're not my type,' when it's too small."
this guy was so ridiculous. he starts talking to us by saying, "i'm just going to listen to what you're saying," and i said, "no, actually, this is a private conversation." he counters with, "is it about boys? because i think i need to listen to that." "no it's not and it's private, sorry." he steps away for a second and pops his head into our area and begins talking about himself, the big fucking bore that he is, not realizing that he's pissing us off and by not listening to us, not respecting us, his chances of getting with us are now zilch. ugh.
this guy was so ridiculous. he starts talking to us by saying, "i'm just going to listen to what you're saying," and i said, "no, actually, this is a private conversation." he counters with, "is it about boys? because i think i need to listen to that." "no it's not and it's private, sorry." he steps away for a second and pops his head into our area and begins talking about himself, the big fucking bore that he is, not realizing that he's pissing us off and by not listening to us, not respecting us, his chances of getting with us are now zilch. ugh.
12 August 2006
this exhaustion
this exhaustion i feel when i think of your face, when i lift my feet, when i inhale...perhaps it is what is the reason for this heaviness in my lungs?
sexy summertime
it's a gorgeous day. i woke up at 645am on a saturday to go running for 2 hours 7 minutes and 45 seconds--feel brilliant, if a tad tired. i may indulge in an afternoon nap but today is so lovely i hesitate as i would miss out on all the beautiful sunshine.
summertime in new york is filled with sweating, running around to see friends, heaps of free events, late nights scanning the sky for stars. running is also taking up my days, with early morning runs followed by days of taking in enormous amounts of gatorade (i love the xfactor blends, yum!). which free event should i go to tomorrow? luckily, all of them are in williamsburg or greenpoint, so i can go to more than one.
i talked on the phone with two of my friends this afternoon about dating. i said i don't know how to do it--i was in a 6 1/2 year relationship and now i'm just confused. it's kind of fun but mostly confusing; and of course my heart is torn. so i'm not REALLY into dating, or anything, but more really, thinking about doing it and how i don't understand it. like g, she has 6 page MS word doc with notes from dating books. i don't think i need that but at the same time, i wonder, do i need to pay attention to the rules? i prefer to think of myself as a cyclist...obeying the rules when they make sense (like stopping at a red light when cars are coming) but going when they don't apply (like not making full stops at stop signs b/c it's hard to stop yr bike...i know, i know! it's brooklyn-style bicycling).
i think i'll just live. i'll let things happen--that's the best way to live, in my opinion. i don't want to stress out like my kid sister who is worrying about washers and dryers and that sort of thing. i want to live. i'm going to take a nap, then drink some more gatorade, write, maybe take little lunie in the park. i'm going to enjoy my sexy summer--and you should too.
summertime in new york is filled with sweating, running around to see friends, heaps of free events, late nights scanning the sky for stars. running is also taking up my days, with early morning runs followed by days of taking in enormous amounts of gatorade (i love the xfactor blends, yum!). which free event should i go to tomorrow? luckily, all of them are in williamsburg or greenpoint, so i can go to more than one.
i talked on the phone with two of my friends this afternoon about dating. i said i don't know how to do it--i was in a 6 1/2 year relationship and now i'm just confused. it's kind of fun but mostly confusing; and of course my heart is torn. so i'm not REALLY into dating, or anything, but more really, thinking about doing it and how i don't understand it. like g, she has 6 page MS word doc with notes from dating books. i don't think i need that but at the same time, i wonder, do i need to pay attention to the rules? i prefer to think of myself as a cyclist...obeying the rules when they make sense (like stopping at a red light when cars are coming) but going when they don't apply (like not making full stops at stop signs b/c it's hard to stop yr bike...i know, i know! it's brooklyn-style bicycling).
i think i'll just live. i'll let things happen--that's the best way to live, in my opinion. i don't want to stress out like my kid sister who is worrying about washers and dryers and that sort of thing. i want to live. i'm going to take a nap, then drink some more gatorade, write, maybe take little lunie in the park. i'm going to enjoy my sexy summer--and you should too.
06 August 2006
vivir
to live. are you really living? or are you just really getting by, scraping by, breathing and sleeping and eating and excreting but giving off nothing but excess?
03 August 2006
one night of fire
had one of the most amazing nights of my life on friday: combine fire with artists with fantastic energy with a roaming street party and you have one night of fire. over two thousand people joined in this night of fire.
we met on the infamous brooklyn bridge--the one tourists (this night, bewildered tourists) go on to take photos of the skyline, of themselves, and of the bridge. i got there several minutes late to a bridge full of stilt-walkers, drummers, cyclists, costumed people, radical cheerleaders (yup, that's me!), wigs, colors (esp red, orange, and yellow), boomboxes, drummers, and life. i could feel an incredible energy. i describe complacent party attendants as "hippies in new york city"--free spirits, artists, creative people, revelers. i met up with friends--some cheerleaders (patrick, gwendolyn, veronica (surprise! yay!) and jinxy (another surprise) and rachelle and peter--and had heaps of fun. i shared my homemade sangria (yum!) with friends and strangers while we struggled to remove fruit chunks with chopsticks. (next time i make sangria for a street party, i'm going to puree the fruit first.)
after a tug of war between manhattan and brooklyn (brooklyn won) we headed to cadman plaza park. cops and pedestrians looked bewildered as our massive group left the bridge. in the plaza, there was chanting, there was drumming, there was dancing, there was singing, there were hugs and love and sharing and glowing jewelry and wigs becoming lopsided but who cared? we were having fun.
but this street party was confusing: no one (except the tight-lipped organizers) knew where we were going. i didn't care; i liked the freedom in not knowing where my night would lead me. i danced, swirling and watching my dress billow around me (and showing off my pink striped underwear that matched my pink striped dress).
we started moving. we weren't sure where, but we were moving. we were going away from the f york st station (where i thought we would be leaving from). our parade continued down streets, cars stopping to shout (and because our crowds prevented them from driving), "what is this?" "a street party! join us!" we shouted, dancing, feeling no pain, feeling, finally, the taste of freedom.
i hugged friends, jumped into arms, shared sangria. but please, don't think it was a night of alcohol; i rarely saw alcohol. the sharing of sangria was a beautiful social occasion; it was delicious to drink and to share.
at jay st a/c/f station, we filed in. crowds. we swiped our metrocards, shouting, "where are we going?" "f train to coney island." okay. we waited on the platform while cops, people waiting for the train stared as us. who are these lunatics?
we are the complacent nation.
when the train arrived, there was drumming, stomping, clapping, shouting, screaming, squealing, kissing, hugging--a celebration in itself. we crammed on and the train sat in the station for several minutes while partygoers climbed on, rushing into crowded cars. when the train finally departed jay st, stomping, hands smacked the ceiling, whistles, shouts filled the air. football cheers i heard at world cup games filled the air. we kissed each other, crowd surfed, shared what we had, talked. confused passengers stared at us; our wings, our wings, our outrageousness. yes, we were having fun.
"this is not your station," a megaphone announced at early stations while revelers ran in between cars, finding a better party. people decorated train cars with posters. hearing the next car up was better, we ran there in between stations to find music, chanting, cheering, screaming, and an even better atmosphere. will the main organizer was there (who you can't help but have a crush one) and peter distributed gummy bears to a chant. we flitted our wings and fluttered our lashes and shared the love. "i have never had so much fun on the subway!"
we took the train all the way out to coney island, the last station. when we emerged, crowded, sweaty (remember, there were 2000 of us crammed into the trains, in addition to the other passengers there already.), shouting to be free. "we are free!"
"this is what freedom tastes like," i thought as people shot photographs and kissed and jumped and stomped and danced and twirled and welcomed the world.
we made a parade to the boardwalk, blocking traffic and laughing and spreading our love. on the boardwalk, we found the hungry march band already playing (i wish i had been in there train car as opposed to mine with a boombox) and i danced like crazy. people got fries at nathans. we shouted; we sweated; we had fun like never before. our huge crowd began slowly marching down the boardwalk.
people raced down the boardwalk. "where's the fire?" images were projected onto a building while hardcore techno and techno played. i danced like nuts.
a fire show began. people spinning fire, dancing with fire, spitting fire. the cops eventually broke it up, but to their credit, were rather cool, letting everything go on for a long time.
after the fire show ended, the crowd spilled onto the beach. whistling sparklers were distributed. once mine was lit, i ran across the beach, holding my glowing sparkler in the air, running for everything. when it went out, i jumped, "yes!"
people started swimming. "i don't have a bathing suit." people swam in their underwear. people swam in nothing. an image: patrick aka trixxi trash walking into the water, buttnaked, holding a cigarette. we swam, splashing each other, squealing, "i feel so free." stepping on a crab we swam away, splashed. who cared? we were free. we are free.
the cops eventually stopped this fun too. what a surprise. rather funny yet embarassing as people ran naked from the water through a sea of cops to find their clothes. laughter. "this is a fun way to spend a night." what could be better than this?
there was pressure to move back to the boardwalk, so we did. on the boardwalk, people hung out. a woman instructed patrick on how to put his stockings back on. rachelle and i shared a funnel cake. we spread the love. the stars--"this is what nyc is about."
we headed to the more secret of the two after parties, a dumbo loft i've been to before. sweating, tired, we chilled, drinking vitamin water and beer, sharing chips and love, dancing. first amazing tribal music, then live drumming (amazing--and it was totally spontaneous! anyone could join.), then this crazy, eclectic and surreal techno. i danced with my heart and my entire being.
at 5am, friends decided to leave; gwendolyn and i shared a cab home together. getting home, i showered to rinse remnants of sand from my body, feeling free, feeling amazing. my wings (i was a lightning bug) were rather damaged, but can be repaired.
for a night, everyone, we were free.
photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/drierp/sets/72157594220048195/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/classicgirl/
http://www.ahutchdesign.com/nightoffire/
http://www.601video.com/files/danger/index.html
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=one+night+of+fire&z=t
video: http://www.youtube.com/results?tag=onenightoffire
we met on the infamous brooklyn bridge--the one tourists (this night, bewildered tourists) go on to take photos of the skyline, of themselves, and of the bridge. i got there several minutes late to a bridge full of stilt-walkers, drummers, cyclists, costumed people, radical cheerleaders (yup, that's me!), wigs, colors (esp red, orange, and yellow), boomboxes, drummers, and life. i could feel an incredible energy. i describe complacent party attendants as "hippies in new york city"--free spirits, artists, creative people, revelers. i met up with friends--some cheerleaders (patrick, gwendolyn, veronica (surprise! yay!) and jinxy (another surprise) and rachelle and peter--and had heaps of fun. i shared my homemade sangria (yum!) with friends and strangers while we struggled to remove fruit chunks with chopsticks. (next time i make sangria for a street party, i'm going to puree the fruit first.)
after a tug of war between manhattan and brooklyn (brooklyn won) we headed to cadman plaza park. cops and pedestrians looked bewildered as our massive group left the bridge. in the plaza, there was chanting, there was drumming, there was dancing, there was singing, there were hugs and love and sharing and glowing jewelry and wigs becoming lopsided but who cared? we were having fun.
but this street party was confusing: no one (except the tight-lipped organizers) knew where we were going. i didn't care; i liked the freedom in not knowing where my night would lead me. i danced, swirling and watching my dress billow around me (and showing off my pink striped underwear that matched my pink striped dress).
we started moving. we weren't sure where, but we were moving. we were going away from the f york st station (where i thought we would be leaving from). our parade continued down streets, cars stopping to shout (and because our crowds prevented them from driving), "what is this?" "a street party! join us!" we shouted, dancing, feeling no pain, feeling, finally, the taste of freedom.
i hugged friends, jumped into arms, shared sangria. but please, don't think it was a night of alcohol; i rarely saw alcohol. the sharing of sangria was a beautiful social occasion; it was delicious to drink and to share.
at jay st a/c/f station, we filed in. crowds. we swiped our metrocards, shouting, "where are we going?" "f train to coney island." okay. we waited on the platform while cops, people waiting for the train stared as us. who are these lunatics?
we are the complacent nation.
when the train arrived, there was drumming, stomping, clapping, shouting, screaming, squealing, kissing, hugging--a celebration in itself. we crammed on and the train sat in the station for several minutes while partygoers climbed on, rushing into crowded cars. when the train finally departed jay st, stomping, hands smacked the ceiling, whistles, shouts filled the air. football cheers i heard at world cup games filled the air. we kissed each other, crowd surfed, shared what we had, talked. confused passengers stared at us; our wings, our wings, our outrageousness. yes, we were having fun.
"this is not your station," a megaphone announced at early stations while revelers ran in between cars, finding a better party. people decorated train cars with posters. hearing the next car up was better, we ran there in between stations to find music, chanting, cheering, screaming, and an even better atmosphere. will the main organizer was there (who you can't help but have a crush one) and peter distributed gummy bears to a chant. we flitted our wings and fluttered our lashes and shared the love. "i have never had so much fun on the subway!"
we took the train all the way out to coney island, the last station. when we emerged, crowded, sweaty (remember, there were 2000 of us crammed into the trains, in addition to the other passengers there already.), shouting to be free. "we are free!"
"this is what freedom tastes like," i thought as people shot photographs and kissed and jumped and stomped and danced and twirled and welcomed the world.
we made a parade to the boardwalk, blocking traffic and laughing and spreading our love. on the boardwalk, we found the hungry march band already playing (i wish i had been in there train car as opposed to mine with a boombox) and i danced like crazy. people got fries at nathans. we shouted; we sweated; we had fun like never before. our huge crowd began slowly marching down the boardwalk.
people raced down the boardwalk. "where's the fire?" images were projected onto a building while hardcore techno and techno played. i danced like nuts.
a fire show began. people spinning fire, dancing with fire, spitting fire. the cops eventually broke it up, but to their credit, were rather cool, letting everything go on for a long time.
after the fire show ended, the crowd spilled onto the beach. whistling sparklers were distributed. once mine was lit, i ran across the beach, holding my glowing sparkler in the air, running for everything. when it went out, i jumped, "yes!"
people started swimming. "i don't have a bathing suit." people swam in their underwear. people swam in nothing. an image: patrick aka trixxi trash walking into the water, buttnaked, holding a cigarette. we swam, splashing each other, squealing, "i feel so free." stepping on a crab we swam away, splashed. who cared? we were free. we are free.
the cops eventually stopped this fun too. what a surprise. rather funny yet embarassing as people ran naked from the water through a sea of cops to find their clothes. laughter. "this is a fun way to spend a night." what could be better than this?
there was pressure to move back to the boardwalk, so we did. on the boardwalk, people hung out. a woman instructed patrick on how to put his stockings back on. rachelle and i shared a funnel cake. we spread the love. the stars--"this is what nyc is about."
we headed to the more secret of the two after parties, a dumbo loft i've been to before. sweating, tired, we chilled, drinking vitamin water and beer, sharing chips and love, dancing. first amazing tribal music, then live drumming (amazing--and it was totally spontaneous! anyone could join.), then this crazy, eclectic and surreal techno. i danced with my heart and my entire being.
at 5am, friends decided to leave; gwendolyn and i shared a cab home together. getting home, i showered to rinse remnants of sand from my body, feeling free, feeling amazing. my wings (i was a lightning bug) were rather damaged, but can be repaired.
for a night, everyone, we were free.
photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/drierp/sets/72157594220048195/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/classicgirl/
http://www.ahutchdesign.com/nightoffire/
http://www.601video.com/files/danger/index.html
http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=one+night+of+fire&z=t
video: http://www.youtube.com/results?tag=onenightoffire
02 August 2006
the skyline is unfamiliar
to save power during this crazy heat wave nyc is experiencing, the lights are turned off in the empire state buildng and the chrysler building at night: my skyline looks different. it's sad, somehow.
31 July 2006
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.
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.
28 July 2006
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.
this post is a giant FUCK YOU to every sexual harasser. it's not a compliment; it's harassment.
27 July 2006
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.
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.
25 July 2006
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.
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..."
24 July 2006
23 July 2006
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.
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.
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.
22 July 2006
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.
20 July 2006
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)
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)
19 July 2006
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
18 July 2006
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.
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.
i do not want to enter this insane forcefield known as the nyc dating scene.
17 July 2006
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.
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.
16 July 2006
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."
14 July 2006
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.
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.
09 July 2006
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.
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.
04 July 2006
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.
"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.
03 July 2006
01 July 2006
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?
30 June 2006
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.
you'll always be my best friend.
29 June 2006
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.
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.
26 June 2006
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...
25 June 2006
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
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.
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.
21 June 2006
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."
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
--a, speaking for himself, but also for our entire generation
20 June 2006
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.
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.
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