tired, so tired

i love traveling, don't get me wrong. but i am so tired. i never get enough sleep and my legs feel dead from walking. it is probably the heat too....in budapest, it is sweaty sticky mess weather.

tomorrow i think i am going to take a day off: find a park, bring a picnic lunch, and read. maybe go to the baths and get a facial. all the museums are closed so it is perfect. but i am tired, i can't walk all over again. i know i should want to, but my legs just won't move.

one thing i love about traveling is finding the vegetarian restaurants everywhere. i ate at a vegan restaurant in prague, vegetarian cafe tonight, vegan deli in berlin, vegetarian mediterranean buffet in copenhagen...there are a lot of great places for non meat eaters, even in very meat based places. i just love hanging around those places, smelling vitamins and wheat grass and seeing women dressed in tapestries (okay, sarongs) talk about yoga and meditation in various languagues. i love it.

my trip is flying back. i can't imagine working. ugh. i won't think about that. instead, i am going to continue to live in the present moment, enjoying each and every day as i can. and right now, my present self is hungry, so i am going to food myself.

leaving prague

i had a good time in prague but it has been really hot, in the high thirties, so i have been drained. i did not fall in love with prague like i thought i would, bc of its super touristy element, but met a ton of rad people the same.

we were talking and i freaked out realising--this trip will not go on forever, i will go back to work and will no longer be meeting new people every day and seeing amazing things every day.

this has made me cherish each moment even more.

off for another train

i know people might think i am being a brat but traveling is a lot more work and exhausting then i thought. but dont get me wrong, because i am having a blast. but sometimes, i wouldnt mind a little umbrella in my drink.

off to prague!

sick of traveling, but really, sick of hostels

i am sick of hostels. i hate hand washing my clothes and snoring roommates and i seriously hate coed rooms, last night i was the only woman with 8 guys and this one guy was snoring like a lawn mower, it was horrid. i prefer female only rooms. i just found out the hostel i am supposed to stay at in prague is in a noisy neighborhood with drunks and bums and someone said they had bedbugs bite them and i dont want to stay there and it is such a hassle finding a new place and i am stressing. i hate this. i want to go home to my apartment and cry in my big bed with my cat.


otherwise traveling is fine. maybe i am just super depressed because of visiting this concentration camp, or having the ticket clerk scream at me.

what a falafel is not

in oslo, starving and trying to find something we can afford, jason, my friend from my hostel who i think just went to oslo so he could drool at all the hot scandinavian men and take photos, we decided to get falafel. so we order, and the guy tells us it is going to be five minutes. okay. we sit down and notice other people getting there food, and it has been more than 5 minutes, and jason is complaining. finally i notice one of the guys comes from outside with a styrofoam container...in it are our falafel. he starts heating up a tortilla on this big thing right next to a big pile of meat and asks me what i want in my falafel. i tell him i am not going to eat a falafel that has been heated up next to meat, that i am a vegetarian and falafel is supposed to be vegetarian. he gets mad at me, and is like, no, this is how it is. on what planet, i wonder. i get my money back and he starts talking smack about me to jason and then he asks me how i usually get falafel. i was like, um, they put it in a pita and it is never cooked by meat. so then he gives me on in a pita and is so mean to me. he forgets to charge me, so i get it for free, but very obnoxious. otherwise, oslo was expensive and nice.

in berlin now, which is a bit ugly, but am having a good time regardless. german is such a scary language to me, but i am sure that hungarian will be even more frightening. i am so screwed there.

getting flashed in stockholm

stockholm is beautiful. i went for dinner in this park last night, and then spent the night listening to music with various people in my hostel, talking about kiwi´s sheep affection, what is wrong with america, ozzie hip hop, among other topics. this morning i set my alarm and woke up before it went off, psyched to get a nice hour long run. there is a huge park on this island not too far from my hostel, and i run along the water so i won´t get lost. about 20 minutes into it, i turn a corner and see a man...and he is wagging his penis at me. i immediately turn around and run as fast as i can. they want reaction, i am told, so i give him none. i see a woman walking and immediately tell her what i saw. she turns around as well.

so i get lost. it is a good thing because i see this amazing rose garden, and it smells like nothing i have ever smelled before. i want to write trevor a letter about the smells and am thinking about how i can describe such a beautiful smell. everything is beautiful: this park, the people, the flowers, the gardens. i avoid smaller and side trails, as i am totally creeped out now.

on my way back, about 2 kilometers from my hostel, i see him again. i scream, 'put your d-ck in your pants you pervert.´so maybe that was a bit much, but really, i dont think so. i am really freaked out, what bad luck, so i ran really fast (he went in the opposite direction) and told this woman. she told me some other woman had seen him do it too, and asked me if i wanted to call the cops. i said no. then i see him in the distance, making violent gestures with his arms towards me. yes. so she is on the phone with the cops and we start following him so we can give the cops directions. and he realizes what we are doing, so he turns around and starts walking really fast towards us. we turn around and i am starting to get really scared. he is screaming in swedish, but all i heard was "english" and "the united states"--so i am guessing he couldnt tell what i was. a later translation included "fucking bitches" "whore" etc. finally the cops come and he pretends he did nothing. i gave my statement, so did the woman, and he did too. i was shaking when i left, and ran so fast. i dont want to go running in sweden now, and really, the parks are lovely. as the first woman i ran into told me, "i come walking here every morning and have never seen anything like that." and he maybe gets off on this, but it seems like a control thing, like he wants to instill fear in women. and i have been flashed at before, yes, and while i was running, yes, but for some reason, this is the scariest time ever. and it is the only time i have ever called the cops before.

still, i am liking sweden.

"my boyfriend is back home"

i am really getting sick of people doubting me because i am traveling alone. what, i need someone to go with me? i actually LOVE traveling alone because it is ALL me and my spontaneity is carrying the trip. i love it! my boyfriend is at home, yes, and i miss him a lot, yes, and no i am not at all cheating on him, and really, why do you have to assume so much?

when people here i am traveling alone, they ask, "why didnt you bring your boyfriend?" well, he has a job, and why do you even assume i have a boyfriend? hmmmm? or, the worst ever, "your boyfriend let you come?" yes, i convinced him to remove the harness for a few months. wtf, since when does my boyfriend control what i do? and these are westerners saying these sorts of things, those from north america and south america and europe! "how does your boyfriend feel about you traveling?" well, he is really glad for me and wishes he could be here but he has no money to travel, and a job. "so, you´re not really staying true to him, right? because what happens in europe, stays in europe." that makes me so mad. i heard it before i left, and while i am here, and i have had the opportunity to be with various people, but am in no way interested in that at all! i hate that people say that. i am 26 and in love with someone, and yes, he is very far, but i think trev and i should get a degree in long distance love. i love him and just want to be with him, so stop asking.

this is really hard for me to be so far from all my friends and family but i think it is a good thing, it is a good exercise for me to do this. i am learning how to make decisions quickly and wisely, how to make friends, how to find things--in short, great experience for librarianship. i do get lonely, yes, thanks for asking and reminding me, but i spend a lot of time thinking and writing in my journal and seeing amazing art that just makes me think and think. i ended up in the prado at the same time as these obnoxious insane brits from my hostel and the experience just wasn´t the same, especially when one of them started giving me a lecture on why i need religion.

sigh. my boyfriend is back home, and yes i miss him, and i know it is hard, but you know what, i can do it. i can do whatever i want. if i could´t, i would never be here in the first place.


on a side note, an ozzie i met in san sebastian told me when she told someone she was traveling alone (and she is about my age), they asked her, "why didn´t you bring your parents?"

traveling

i have finally left the opium den that is called amsterdam and am in copenhagen. seems fairly low key and quiet here, which is very nice. planning on doing some reading, exploring the town, chilling in the various gardens, writing letters which are owed to good friends. then to some town in sweden (stockholm or goteberg--i cant decide. if the hostels work out with gothenberg, it´ll be there) and then oslo.

drained. tired. traveling is exhuasting, but seriously, i have seen so much, i can deal with the tiredness.

am trying to decide if i can add another country--either croatia, hungary, or poland. i don´t deal well with advance planning.

i cant imagine doing a nine to five again.

amsterdam is pretty, but i'm not into the pot

last night five of my roommates and i went for a walk around the red light district. very entertaining. we met some stupid boys from the usa and they were super arrogant and i felt very embarassed as all my roommates were from other countries: please, we are not all like that!

i went to this contemporary art museum here in amsterdam and they had some fantastic art. i feel the more i see "jesus art" (religious art) the more i am sick of it. i'm really into contemporary art, art that i have to think about to figure out. Willem de Rooij had an amazing collage of photos of resistance and war over the past couple of years. very, very powerful. i almost expected to see myself in some of the protest photos.

feel so far from the american protest scene. miss cheering. i don't know what's going on in the world right now, i'm a backpacker.

why the world is crazy

so there was a terrorist attack in london and as i am traveling i barely know anything about it but i feel sad and scared and overwhelmed. there's a cat shelter where you can pet cats and leave a donation, and i went today and the guy there was telling me that pot is the reason things like this happen, b/c apparently the terrorists ancestors were smoking weed and messed up the gene pool. okay. anyway i hate the way this world is, i hate that sort of thing, and being from new york, it scares me even more.

travel is about finding out who you are and what you want

i have been getting tons of advice from travelers, but i am sick of the ones who want me to rearrange my trip to do things they loved. like, that sounds awesome but there are so many places to go i can´t do them all. this girl was like, --you´ll be in amsterdam too long, go to brugge. and i can´t. this trip is about me saying, --hey that sounds rad, i´ll do that. but not always. i need to figure out what i want and do my thing and figure out what´s best for me. sorry, this is my trip and my time to make decisions. and it´s really exciting.

i met this guy and he was like, --what´s wrong with your boyfriend? why didn´t he come? um, nothing is wrong with trev, he just doesn´t have money and has a job. i wish he was here but he´s not. and i think it´s good i´m traveling alone b-c i can´t make decisions and this trip is forcing me to do things on my own. i think it´s very good for me to get in touch with myself.

my friend did the walk to santiago from france in 29 days. i´d like to do that at some point, it sounds amazing. just to be so free. still, this is my own pilgrimage and i have been doing a lot of self-reflecting.

i dont think i´m a backpacker

í´m getting sick of living out of a backpack, paying to use the internet. then i feel like such a brat, like i know so many people who would LOVE to do this. so i suck it up and enjoy what i have. right now i´m in san sebastian, and i came to enjoy the beach here, and it´s rained two of the three days i´ve been here. such is life. i´ll have a good time this summer, but that backpack is going to be retired after this summer. well, maybe a little trip here and there....

san sebastian is pretty even when it rains

i´m in san sebastian, and i´m feeling somewhat antisocial (although hilariously, two hostels ago, if you were antisocial that was grounds for removal from the hostel!) and am not going to the beach with the youngins. i think i´m gonna go alone (they´re also a long walk away) with good old leo tolstoy and do some writing. i just want to be alone and relax. hostel life is wearing and drinking, skinny dipping and screaming every night can be fun, but you know, i´m 26. i´m dreaming a bit more of stability, another cat maybe, a job that i don´t hate. and i love traveling but i know that i´m just a big ol homebody. i miss cooking. last night at the hostel i made a pasta dish with chickpeas and everyone was like, wow. i love seeing all these new places, and i´m not complaining, but i just think being a bit older than others can be a bit strange.

things that make me smile and laugh after they happened

yesterday, on our way to the sofia reina museum where guernica is:

jessica (a backpacker from florida): i´m really thirsty.
me: there´s a stand right here. you want to get a bottle of water here?
jessica: no i think i´ll just wait till we get to the museum and i´ll drink from the toilet.
(she meant bathroom and when i went to pee at the museum, i offered my stall to her before i went so she could sip. she went to the sink.)



trevor, me, new york city, last october
we´re wandering around soho and accidentally enter the prada store

trev looks at a tshirt. gasps. i can´t even afford the underwear.

we leave and trev turns to some people entering and goes, ´man, that store is bullshit, don´t bother.

loving spain

spain´s been fun. meeting lots of great travelers, people who are doing more than 'europe in 3 weeks--and i really feel like i saw everything.' right. people traveling for months, people questioning things. i met someone working for e&y and it reminded me of how far i am from my former life.

it feels great.

pride in madrid

so i have of course found my spot as a fag hag across europe.

thurs night there´s a huge group of us in the lounge at the hostel, drinking forties (not me, ugh) and laughing too loud and saying, ¨what the hell should we do?¨so i meet this marine biologist who is actually straight but loves pride and we all go to the pride street party.

awesome.

it´s like a huge ass party in the street with djs at these plazas and people stripping from their balconies and kissing bears and bars blasting spice girls and me finding my place amongst gay men. so fun. drank 6 euro sangrias (huge ass containers) and laughed and tripped and watched my friend try to pick up spanish ladies with his very limited capability. i think it´s hilarious that he´s doing this at pride.

and i´m having a blast, dancing and singing and meeting all these people from all over. and it occurs to me--this is once in my life. i miss trev and my life back home but you know what, i am not going to wish it away.

spain

i love spain. i love speaking spanish and i love spain. it´s beautiful and i´m meeting great people and i´m never going to work for a corporation again. i ran into a deloitte & touche office in madrid and made a gasp. boo!

hot, hot, hot

i´m stinky. i have mosquito bites all over. i´m homesick for my cat and my kitchen, and sometimes, just wish i was in my bed in my boyfriend´s arms with the ac pumping.

but WHATEVER! i´m in spain! i´m unemployed, but i don´t think of it like that: i´m traveling, having an amazing experience and meeting some amazing people, seeing great art, great historical sites, trying new food, laughing, crying, and seeing so much. i´m so lucky even though i´m a stinky sweaty backpacker right now.

what is new york

i was listening to krs1 analyze hip hop and started thinking about all the people who i've met recently and their reactions to me being from new york. and i've started thinking, what is new york?

"have you ever gotten mugged?"
"wow that's really crazy. it must be pretty scary."
"it's dangerous there, right?"
"do you ever go to twilo?" (honey, that club closed too long ago!)
"where you in the world trade centre when it happened?"

i have to constantly assure people of the safety of new york, tell them how i live alone and have been lucky to never have anything happen to me but it's not like it's super scary and there are guns everywhere. they're also surprised i don't talk like a thug and carry a gun. this is the image new york exports of itself.

but the world trade center...so many people ask me about it and when i tell them i work down there, they say, "what's there now? have they started rebuilding? it's just a hole, right?" and i tell them about how the tourists piss me off taking photos of it. i'm not taking photos of any destruction here. but the sensitivty--no one has said, "i hate americans," but i have heard, "i hate bush" or "your president is horrible, i'm sorry"--he's not my president.

viva la cuidad de nueva york en europa!

ibiza

what can i say, but all the rumours are true. women wear bikinis to clubs, the music is amazing, and you´ll take a nap, hit the beach, and do it all over again.

thursday:
chris and i take the ferry. exhausted and beat, we arrive at our hostel, hostal valencia at nearly nine. we dump our stuff and immediately find some grub--cheap pasta and pizza. we get a ticket for amnesia´s opening at cream (35 euros) and get ready. chris wants to get there early, i want to wait later. the clubs here don´t open till midnight, i´m not arriving at 12,30!
amnesia is amazing. paul van dyk is amazing. i dance my butt off, and meet a spanish guy who tells me he loves me. i repeatedly tell him about trevor, and finally ditch him. i meet a group of guys who may or may not be gay and dance with them.
every so often, usually when the music is about to pick up, they will blast co2 into the crowd and you can´t see anything and it´s such an amazing intense experience. and the lights are flashing and everyone is jumping and screaming and when you finally see everyone again, you just scream, ¨YES!¨
we close the party out, and take a cab back to the hostel around 730. chris goes out with my new friends to the after party.

friday:
i sleep for so little--3 hours. the guys in the pool downstairs are loud, so i join them. i eat biscuits and we talk about england, my travels and clubbing. very cool. i suddenly need a nap and run upstairs and sleep another 3 hours. chris wakes up then, and begins talking about pascha. i´m so tired i can barely keep my eyes open. i look like hell.
we go to cafe mambo and eat an overpriced dinner to wicked good music. drink amazing sangria. after, we watch the sunset. i get shivers, and i´ve never gotten shivers over a sunset before. everyone claps and it´s so amazing to see how pink it gets, how it disappears so fast at the end. we meet up with robbie, who hasn´t slept yet from last night.
i go back to the hostel to nap, but i can´t. chris comes back and after hanging out with the guys downstairs, we go to the west end. drunk brits are all we see. it reminds me of a frat.

saturday:
chris leaves early, and i have a room to myself for a change, which is wonderful. i lounge around nude and miss luna. i walk around san antoni, then get a cheap spanish lunch. after i go to the beach and listen to some boring guy talk about how he hates his job, and meet these crazy brits. one of them was stung by a jellyfish on fri, and the other one is bugging out. i ask steve, who was stung, ¨did it hurt?¨he tells me he peed on himself, which supposedly takes the sting out. okay.
i go to the pool and swim around and read sandra cisneros carmelo in the shade. it seems to quiet. i go watch the sunset again at mambo cafe, and meet up with the crazy brits.
i take a shower and head out to privilege, the biggest club in the world. it´s pretty crazy there and i dance like nuts, though i´m tired. i keep getting guys trying to dance with me and it´s so annoying. they don´t get the back to them; i have to yell.

sunday:
leave the club around 6am, and chat with these hyper brit girls on the bus. walk back to my hostel, amazed at how little sleep i´ve gotten. i take a shower, pack up my stuff, eat the amazing complimentary breakfast, and am on the road before i know it.

i love spain

i love valencia. it's awesome, amazing. i love speaking in spanish, eating spanish food, drinking sangria, meeting people, going to the beach, and having seista. i've met so many awesome people, and not just backpackers. my friend asked me if she'd like valencia. i love it but she's more into touristy stuff. if you like meeting people and chilling, great. i'm psyched. but seriously, you need to know some spanish or you're screwed. all my friends here don't speak spanish and they're like, "if you weren't here, i'd be screwed." spain is awesome! i love spain, i want to move here.

sweating in paris

i have several hours before my train to valencia and i spent the morning with my friends--lindsey, drew, marco and dania (who i went with last night to the eiffel tower, to see it sparkle! the lights blink and you lay down in the grass with a bottle of wine and the whole world seems magical) went to sacre coeur and took photos. after ate some amazing ice cream, took photos at the moulon rouge, and stood on top of this fan thing that cooled us off. it's seriously like 90 here and super humid and i stink and i'm sweating. i already checked out of my hostel and wish i could shower. before i go i'm going to wipe down in the hostel bathroom (the showers are in the rooms at this hostel) but i dont want to do too much today. i'm sweating like a pig right now and miss my air conditioning. france is filled with sexy glamourous women who don't sweat, and i'm certainly not one of them.

stinky sweaty backpackers unite!

saying goodbye is always lovely

it seems the night before i leave a city i always seem to have a fabulous time and then i don't want to go.

the night before i left reykjavik i went to the symphony and heard some amazing, absolutely lovely music.

the night before i left london i went to hear grooverider at his weekly drum n bass party, danced my ass off, met all these amazing people (who bought drinks, a plus when you're a backpacker) and had one of the best nights ever.

and the night before i left paris, dania, lindsey, drew, marco and i went to the eiffel tower. we watched it twinkle and shared two bottles of wine--ghetto but fab. we reclined on the grass and shrieked at how beautiful it was and took photos. and now these people are going to ibiza with me!

i love the way you meet so many people when you're traveling. i do miss my bathtub and cat tho.

paris

hot
sweaty
humid
skirt sticking to thighs, shirt to back of shoulder blades
expensive--too many euros
messy hair
long walks
bonjour merci au revoir
eiffel tower overpriced art museums friendly strangers
hostel roommates
push button showers

feeling better

i'm going to go out for a nice french dinner at some random but seemingly decent place after this, eat a pastry, try to find v's bday gift and wander. i was so down and i am still missing my home but i have to remember: this is a trip of a lifetime and i'm not going to blow it. i'm looking forward to a few weeks where i can spoil myself with a hotel. london is too pricey for that.

hating france

right now i am at this internet cafe trying to figure out the keyboard but i want to go home
i miss nyc and luna and trev and apt and friends and fam and i was stupid to plan a trip so long but i do not miss work i should ve just quit and written but i really miss my home i hate my hostel and hostel living is annoying

clubbing in london

i went out on a friday night to a rave in 'the cool part of town' as my french friend said. judge jules was there and he was amazing. danced so much, but i hated the stinking like smoke part. i danced my little heart out and i love judge jules--see him if you can.

pickup line used on me: 'do you have a boyfriend 'cause i think you're cute?'

another pickup line: 'do you want to sit down and me to get you some drinks? or we can go someplace else and drink?'
me: 'no thanks im having a great time dancing and i'm gonna stay here.'

i deserted those losers quickly and danced my little heart out.

last night i went to grace, grooverider's weekly drum n bass party at herbal, this chill bar. grooverider was fucking amazing. maybe it's because i miss trevor, or maybe it's because the drum n bass scene here is fucking awesome, but i have been totally infatuated with dnb lately. anyway, it was great. i ended up meeting this group of people who was dancing in the same area: (and they bought me drinks thank goddess b/c i'm low on the pounds here! 8£ left, can i last till tomorrow am?) this portugese guy who was telling me how fab portugal is (i think i'm gonna go tho he clearly won't be there as he lives in london now), and this bizarre girl, and these two guys originally from chile. i had so much fun. we danced and it stunk like smoke--cigs and pots and chemicals that i don't know what they were.

pick up line used on me: 'do you want to snort a line of mdma?' [i didn't know people snorted lines of that! ugh!]
me: 'no, i'm good.'
him: 'how 'bout a cig?'
me: 'i think i'm gonna dance now.'

after grooverider finished and the party was over (2am, things here close early, esp pubs), we went to this other party and danced to house and techno till 4am. i caught the n35 immediately (luck) and got dropped off right in front of my hostel. exhausted, i crawled into bed stinking of smoke. i had such a great time, meeting all these new people--people were just striking up conversations all over the place. one of the chilean guys was helping me practicar mi espanol. buena. estoy cansado. me gusta bailar.

american embassy

observation from my journal which is filling up so fast:


the only building with bars on the windows in reykjavik: the embassy of the united states.

directly across the street, a poster in the window: no blood for oil

having a fab time

at a cheap internet cafe, everything is wonderful. went to the imperial war museum, the national portait gallery, the british library, and am loving london. i'm at a dodgy internet cafe right now, watching buses and tourists and brits alike go by, thankful to be here. i feel so free--liberated from my job and all rules. my rules? a club tomorrow (judge jules), another sunday (grooverider), museums, running along the thames, meeting travelers. london is a lovely city, and i find it less in your face than nyc. been going to the theatre, writing, walking around too much. i love this feeling of absolute freedom.

bad dream far from home

last night i had this complicated dream, but all of the sudden, there was a wind storm. i found myself holding onto stranger's hands to prevent from being blown away, and then i found this skinny girl and was like, 'us skinny girls need to stick together or we'll blow away.' so we were holding hands and suddenly everything went black--we were on the street and it was still windy and chaotic and i screamed, 'what's happening?' and suddenly my old roommate marie appeared and said rather joyously, 'the world is ending of course!' and i was mad because she was happy because i don't want the world to end. it was chaos, running. when i awoke, i was shaking, and wished i had little luna to keep my company. alas, i'm far from home.

enjoying the city, loving the countryside

arrived in london on friday night, late. amazed at random conversations on the train, with an icelandic man about iceland, with a man from a country in africa whose name suddenly escapes my mind. loved it. comfy subway seats (which is probably why the mta is way cheaper) and london, well, it's just bustling and urban, like new york, but less in your face, less intense. it seems as if it were designed with tourists in mind, and there seems to be many more tourists--or is this because i am currently traveling?

on saturday went to the british museum (lovely; i do have some photos of me posed with statues of nude men, which i'll post when i can), the dali museum (pricey but i do love dali, and i got to see venus with the chest of drawers, the mae west lips couch, and the lobster telephone!), and the national gallery. my favorite painting ever is there--jan van eyk's 'portrait of giovanni arnolfini and his wife' (there are varying titles for this painting)--i stared at it three different times and the guard noticed my infatuation--we got in a huge discussion about it, as i have studied it on several occasions. then went to eat at a lovely little vegetarian kitchen, yum.

have been up to marilyn's house in lancaster; lovely. andrew, marilyn and i have been hiking (seeing some andy goldsworthy sculptures in nature), eating (oooh, lovely cheeses and breads for dinner with good olives, pickled walnut chutney and sliced apples), taking photos--it really is lovely up here. i'm so relaxed and wil in fact stay until tomorrow; i don't want to leave at all.

but soon, paris; tomorrow, the world.

the toilets in iceland are awesome

the one thing i can´t get over is the toilets in iceland. in every place i go, they´re different--no traditional handle, but this pump thing that you lift up and let drop, or you push one button or another one (i guess depending on what you do in the toilet). this country is so unlike anything--the landscape is rocky and dirts and grass in between. i´m in the capital city, and the driveways and parking lots and sidewalks are often dirt or gravel. there´s so much green space. the city layout is so confusing--i spent 3 hours looking for a building and never finding it. but the icelandic people are wonderful--helpful and friendly.

after i arrived at my hostel, i dumped my bag next to the bed and grabbed my swimsuit and went to the geothermal pools next door. i swam a few laps in the large lap pool, then hung out in the warmer big pool (with two waterslides, a wading area, a small section, and a big section where the kids hung out). then i went to the hot tub, where i relaxed with a bunch of icelandic people. the best part is this big circular hot pool where you lie down with your head on the outside of the circle and your feet in the middle--it´s very shallow. i relaxed there with my eyes clothes for forever.

i feel so free. free from the corporate world, to which i shall never return. what more is in my future--i´ll soon find out. i love this land of no question marks on the keyboard yet ö and þ and æ and ð. i love this land where people speak 8 languages.

and yes, i shall come back. in time, with the northern lights.

almost gone

i'm about to dismantle my computer so that i may put it in my parents' car--they will be arriving within an hour. i can't believe i'll be gone from home for so long--and gone from my precious kitty. i think my subletters seem really good with cats--and nice--so hopefully it will work out (and not be a repeat of other craigs list horror stories). i still have so much to do today--and can't even comprehend the fact that i'll be in a plane later today, aimed for places i have never been. i'm excited.

today is memorial day, but it's no longer a holiday for me. my life is a holiday. and it feels great. the sun is out, it is warm, and the sun will always shine on me the next several months. this breather from the working world--let's just say i hope to become independently wealthy so i can do this all the time.

well i'm going to dismantle my computer, get an iced chai, and transfer funds at my bank. next time i post, i'll be abroad.

see you in europe!

fiction: jaywalking and other such dangers

when we were fourteen, we crossed the street whenever we liked , because as floridian said (with traces of her thick puerto rican accent mocking up the suburban speech us all-americans know so well), "pedestrians always have the right of way." as soon as we'd leave the house, we'd crack gum, apply extra makeup at the bus stop (my mother only let me wear light pink lipstick) and push up our bras so it looked like we (sorta) had cleavage. the crossing the street at a brisk pace (never a run, floridina cautioned; we didn't want to look desperate) often made us readjust our chests.

one night, after leaving floridina's mother drinking rum with curlers in her hair, and mine sucking down cigarettes and anti-depressants like we sucked down coca-colas, we met our match. after crossing queens boulevard at a brisk pace, our high heels clacking, we heard the usual horn. we kept walking and he drove slowly down the narrow street. the guy pulled over and waited for us.

"hey, you need a ride?"

"hells, no!" i was taught to be rude when approached. floridina would flirt, and was constantly accepting rides from strangers that i would turn down. i told her coldly when she told me i was being a wussy, "if you want to risk death or rape or whatever, go ahead. i'm walking and taking the bus and taking the train." she shut up and listened to me after that. some girl our age who accepted a ride had her body found in a keyfood parking lot. just thinking about the description of her mutilated body--stab wounds and cigarette burns and god, what they did to her down there--well, i never even thought about taking a ride after that.

"but i'd like to give you a ride. c'mon honey." his teeth glinted gold. floridina looked like she was thinking about it.

"no! we're fine."

he smiled. "aight, well, i'll drive around for a while so i can see y'all run across the street. hey brunette, your titty's been shakin' like nobody's business."

and floridina, who sucked mike marskall off after he dared her to, finally spoke up. "i'm surprised you could see anything, what, with your head being up in your ass."

she turned and walked in the corner store; i followed. i tugged my shirt closer to my neckbone, and watched her buy a coke from the cooler, not even attempting to buy a pack of cigarettes. from my window viewpoint, i could see him staring at the corner store, and finally, pulling away, shaking his head.

after floridina got her soda, she told me, "girl, now you know that there are bigger dangers than crosswalking." and we jaywalked across austin boulevard, laughing hysterically the entire time, giving fingers to whoever honked us, and high-fiving each other when we made it to the other side.

this summer

fans,

throughout the summer, i'll be in europe, traveling and sipping fine wines (if others purchase them for me!). check this blog or eurail blog or you can email me to automatically receive this blog. i'm so psyched!

good quote

my coworker amy gave me this good quote on my bon voyage card:

"travel only with thy equals or they betters; if there are none, travel alone."
--the dhammapoda

work=help!

work has been so bad lately. perhaps it's kismet reminding me how

evil it is so that i will never want to return. i remember the last

day at the horrid bagel place i worked at i got the most tips--more

than double i had any other day. it made me leave with a smile, but

tugged at me to stay--i ran.

and so here, i am running, already.

i owe nothing to "the firm." nothing. they owed nothing to me--no

transitchecks (for free!), no tuition reimbursement, no health

insurance. being a temp assures they fuck you over as much as they

can.

i almost wish i had given less notice. the woman who is taking my

job is bizarre and annoying at best. r is being more annoying than

usual--is that possible? the new woman has an mls yet likes to work

as an admin of corporate libraries: "i like to be the power behind

the force." i guess she likes making labels and answering phones....

even my boss is at a loss because she has never done research. "she

can't even do your clips! she's going to be doing a lot more admin

work than you were." so at least my boss realizes my value, in some

miniscule way. i can tell the new woman is itching for me to leave

so she can take my desk and make it her own personal hell.

get me outta here!

i'm running, i'm running, i'm gone.

almost there

dying the bottom underside part of my blonde hair pink, waiting to go to the panty party at opaline (check yr pants at the door and get two for one drinks all night!), looking at my wreck of a house. my friends are here, and it's fab to see them; i do hate the mess that comes along. of course, there was a HUGE mess before they came, so i don't blame them at all... i'm trying to convince my feet that these awesome sneakers i got from zappos fit but they unfortunately do not..i will miss my life in nyc but i need a break, and i know things will be amazing, they truly will. i cannot wait for what's too come, but in the meantime, i'm enjoying every single moment that is here, even with my slightly chubalub cat. i love everything right now, as long as i'm not at the hell they dare call work.

last minute

i have way too much to do and one week left. i have to finish packing, figure out my long-sleeved shirts (do i really want to wear that librarian cardigan all summer?), book my icelandic hostel, figure out which one i'll stay in london, get more memory for my camera, put all my cds on my ipod (inc naming all the mix cds!), etc etc etc. it's just freaking me out almost.

and work is just annoying, stressful. i just want to escape into bed with a good book. say, ariel gore's atlas of the human heart. instead, i'm drinking vitamin water, cleaning my apartment, nibbling on chocolate. yum. even tho i'm gaining weight and my trousers can't close.

running

running through north brooklyn
you
rarely see others
the ones i see
ignore my smiles look away
i continue running

today
amid lazy gait and general lethargy
someone says hi
i'm trying to run faster, and so is she:
blonde ponytail, perkier than mine, big smile

and it keeps me going, even if just for a little bit.

suburbia: a study

i spent a day with my family, and thought a lot about suburbia. coming from the city, you sometimes forget the seasons--the temperature is the sole indicator. the color of trees, flowers, and greenery are often lacking; i often don't realize it is fall until visiting my family. when i arrived at their house for an early brunch (yawn; vitamin water replenishes hydration lost by too much rum) i spent time walking barefoot on their lawn. what a luxury this would be in the city; one would never do it in a city park.

my mother was helping me find a navy tank top; at the end of the day, unsuccessful at so many stores in the mall, we ordered one from ll bean (much easier!) i found a rich lightweight lilac skirt for my travels (the weight of the fabric being key at this shopping trip!) and my mother and i gossiped about family problems over smoothies, strolling through various stores, various levels. advertisements blared ahead, in store windows, and by vendors at booths. thinking about how unwholesome suburbia is: it's like white bread. everything pre-packaged, 12 year old girls with way too much makeup, makeup you know that they applied as soon as their mothers dropped them off in the nordstrom's bathroom. the way people carried themselves and their bags, you learned too much about themselves. large SUVs, toy dogs in louis vuitton bags. labels that only make the product cost more, not the quality increase; what kind of world are we living in?

i hate suburbs, yet i like the green grass it provides. i would like a greener city.

dancing in the streets: a party beyond words

complacent throws some really amazing parties, every few months. my first party of theirs was back in 2000 where we got tangled in an installation in some dirty williamsburg loft, where people smoked from hookahs in tiny little tented domey areas aspiring to be something out of turkey. other parties have included live art, movies, djs, ice sculptures, bands, political tabling, radical cheerleaders (yup, i'm included), dancing, cheap food, deep discussion, and way too much to even begin to talk about. parties will have multiple location, secret locations, available by invite only following questions that wean out the losers from the winners (yes i was selected). last night's party was amazing, and was a traveling party.

first warm night began in the lower east side, took over several train cars, and moved to a park in red hook. years ago, when coaching the alphabet city track club, i ran here with my girls. last night, fueled by confidence, freedom, and rum, i ran around the track in a sparkly black skirt, laughing all the way around. i'm still me, i still am me!

the party moved, led by a small car-like vehicle (not really a car; basically more like a bike rickshaw thing with a huge speaker in the back) and the hungry march band somewhere in the middle. wings were worn. candy was handed out, bubbles were blown. vodka was sipped from flasks and whiskey from crumpled paper bags. i complained of the pulpiness of my rum cocktail, swigged it anyway.

we were all going someplace beyond reality.

at some point, a pickup truck appeared. people piled on the back. djs on a precarious plywood surface, played old school beastie boys. "you gotta fight! for your right! to par-ty!" we were taking over the streets, yes we were, even though they were quiet, back streets where warehouses and abadoned warehouses slept on this saturday evening. twilight crept as "no sleep till brooklyn" rather ironically played--drunk, we shouted, unashamed at the cliches. we were the revolution we hoped to see!

i danced with a drunk girl, a boy, a whoever, a person, a real-live human being. a couple went past with an office chair with wheels. they pushed me on cobblestones for a bit, laughing. we swigged life.

we arrived at a pier in redhook. in the street, in front of a bus with SENIOR CITIZENS on it, the windows were removed and speakers blared drum n bass. i danced--no, we danced. we danced. we danced as one.

pushing through the pulsing crowds with heavy breath and sweat, i walked down the boardwalk. someone was juggling with fire. someone was blowing bubbles. someone was saying, "this is my dream." we were all thinking, this is OUR world.

at the end, a capoeria performance began. we gazed at the dance, marveled at the movements. when it was over, cards were passed, compliments given. i leaned over the railing, staring at the water. moved back to dancing.

met an adorably drunk girl, who told me how brilliant i was. she was hanging all over my neighbor's business partner's arm. she told me i'd love iceland, she had to see me before i left. i laughed hysterically at her drunkeness, becoming drunker soleley by osmosis. my rum cocktail was finished, its plastic bottle gently abandoned in the proper trash receptacle.

tried to meet up with friends; directions from the train, or even the earlier park, were futile. we are here, you will find us!

went on another long walk. dancing in the streets. people with boomboxes. dancing on sidewalks. friends arrived. body paint?

cops and firefighters came. using power, and sirens, demanded us off the streets. i spoke (cheered) back:
they are the c-o-p-s,
with the badge on their chest!
they want to oppress, the people with less!
they're armed in dangerous,
the big boys in blue!
put your hands where they can see them or they're gonna shoot you!
their excuse is protection, their tool is control!
the time to act is now, take the pigs off control.
just me and my big voice, and applause afterwards.

apparently, a whale (a blow up whale) as well as a person had gone for a swim in the east river. supposedly, the person couldn't get back onto land; thus the cops were called. those piers are mighty high.

twister was played. a giant bottle for spin the bottle was carried past. a mother-daughter fairy team ran past. "is this heaven or what?" someone asked.

the party ended at a bar. life stories exchanged, salivia exchanged among strangers who you swore were only introducing themselves earlier, yet you knew by the end of the year, an engagement between them would be announced. i spun around groups of people, speaking with friends, talking about where i grew up and my rapidly approaching trip to europe.

we were far from civilization; who even knew where the train was? met several different people; the ones i ended up walking to the train with were amazing. they tried to convince me to go with them to a weekly drum n bass party, and i almost did; a paper which i haven't started yet and an early brunch with family prevented me from going. we talked about growing up in the suburbs or the city, and about jobs that made us thrilled to get up in the morning (even though we were broke) and ones that made us want to crawl back under the covers (even though we were paid $70k) and ones that the work we did we couldn't even describe what we did since we didn't know what we did. the conversation flowed, from buddhist sculpture to the virtues of growing up in queens. i can't believe such people exist in my city and are not exalted every day.

on the train, we separate; me to the G, them to await the F. i think of how rich my night was, of the rum that did not increase the chances of anything, but merely there; of the fun to be had in the future.

go out. make art. make friends. take over the streets with a party of 800 people. you can do it. we did. and i only looked back to say, "wow, this is amazing. look how many cool people there are in this beautiful city!"

funny

funniest piece of spam:
remove your debt the christian way!

work is for losers

counting down the minutes. today is a beautiful day, although i'm
trapped at work, hearing sallie rant about death benefits (she's
doing an insurance request). i've pretty much given up on my food &
beverage industry request--not finding much, and the consultant
seems happy with all that i've sent him. okay. but i don't like this
lifestyle: living in a small little cube. well, i don't have a cube,
but my job is easily comparable to office space.

my body feels sore sitting here--and i did walk about a mile on my
lunch break, doing errands. i need to practice yoga....and run and
stretch.

but why do we do this? work just feels meaningless, the exchange of
labor for money. i'd rather volunteer, speak with people everywhere,
run, be.

later: i ran into libby by union square. she said my boss said i "had already checked out." um, that happened months ago. i hate how she talks shit behind my back; fucking passive aggressive librarians. grrrrr.

teeth

i went to the dentist yesterday, where the dental hygenist raped my
gums, or so it felt like. that scraper, ugh! i'm still recovering
and my gums are still sore. i guess i'm not the greatest flosser,
but i usually do it once a day. my dental hygenist lectured me the
entire time about my horrid flossing habits and i tried to think of
lovely things. i hate the dentist but i behaved very well.

you can be sure that a small container of floss is already in my
pack!

work is just work, just a job and not my life

although i have many piles of things to do on my work desk, i am content. i am content even though my boss is trying to hire this other woman as a slap in the face to me. i am delighted although i am still working in an insane asylum, and the fact that my boss keeps finding pointless work for me to do. i am happy because i am leaving.

the situation is far from perfect. for instance, i keep our annual report shelves stocked. when i ordered them, i had them sent to me. my boss said, "i noticed you had the annual reports sent to you. i told you to send EVERYTHING to my name." i explained they were being sent just this one time, everyone in the mail room knows me well, and i was sending many of the messages from my email. doesn't she know it can be demeaning to pretend i'm her? (in her case, yes!) she tells me, "well if they replace someone in the mail room they might not know you. i want you to call each of those companies you got annual reports from [at least 90 companies] and have them put me on their mailing list." why? so we can get more crap and more trees are killed? and it's not like she reads all the crap that comes in--she just tosses it (not recycles). no, because she's a power freak and feels like she lost control. i said i'd do it, but i won't. my coworker said, "don't. she's crazy."

we knew that.

i'm happy to be getting 5 more paychecks (i get paid every week and am still owed last week's paycheck) and happy i wasn't immediately dismissed--even though i was just asked to do something else pathetic. i'm going to drink my organic jasmine green tea (thanks venessa!) and breathe and be delighted about how few days i have left here. right now, i have 12 days.

i quit! and i already taste freedom!

so i gave my notice. in three weeks, no more regular paychecks, no
more corporate culture, freedom! three weeks from today i'll be
going to iceland, and from there, europe, and from there, the world,
and from there, the universe. i feel so free.
and all at once i am panicking: budget, cherie. i had no food for
lunch so i'm buying pricey lunch with jess. must buy bread: pbj is
never out of style (for yr budget, that is). need to get memory for
camera, cheap flash drive.
and the countdown begins: 21 days....

"advice"

i'm getting sick of the advice people keep giving me. random tidbits, mostly things i already know. i know they're trying to be helpful, but at this point, three weeks away, it's not helping. it's making me anxious. i bought three bathing suits at macy's, and a fashion show for mom and trev will determine which is best (i can't decide). bathing suits are too damn expensive--$50 for basically a pair of panties. grrrr.

back to my prepping oral report on tomie depaola. that man is a wonderful writer, wonderful.

someone is supposed to be coming over to look at my apt for subletting, and he's late. i wonder what will happen with the rent.

thoughts

i just told my coworker i know why people drink and do drugs: to
numb themselves of the unhappiness of their everyday experience. i
hate the financial district yet recognize it is central to the
modern american experience. i hate how corporations maniupulate and
mess with people, yet am not sure how to get rid of them. the
corporatespeak is disgusting and i am so ready to get out. don't
worry: i'm not drinking.

if you're unhappy and you know it, change yr life.

anxiety

i'm feeling super anxious abt everything right now but am trying to chill out. it will work out, it will work out. i'll take the plunge. i'm holding my nose!

most cats don't sit like it. we say she looks like an old man. notice her hand in her crotch! al bundy indeed! 

luna and dai chi, trevor's stuffed cat puppet that his roommate used to torture in college. luna loves to claw dai chi. i love my kitty. 

preparations

i'm starting to get really nervous. the lack of subletter thing is
making me panic--i'm having trouble breathing, feeling shaky. plus
i'm going to be all alone for so long...what good will seeing all
this art after a while do? there are major butterflies in my
stomach, and the indian food we've ordered for lunch will hardly
help me. (although i love indian food!) i want to travel, but is
this a phase? i've always said i'd want to travel, but not as a
tourist: as a person temporarily residing around the world

should you want to see my pack, check it out:
it's great, but i can't believe i'll be living out of it for 3 1/2
months!
and this here is my daypack:

augh!

slightly drunk but still kicking

i will give up everything i know that is familiar this summer. in france, i will buy french conditioner. i will listen to krs 1 in italy, where i know no italian. i will walk throughout cobblestone streets, missing my beautiful cat. i must be courageous; i posted on craig's list; i got my backpack; my supply list is being filled; it will be okay.

nerves

i leave in exactly four weeks. four weeks from now i will be on a plane to iceland, shaking with nerves and excitement. right now i just feel sick to my stomach (literally; i have a stomachache). i don't have a subletter and don't know how i'll be paying my rent if i don't get one, and laura's bad experiences with craigslist make me nervous, and i want someone discrete who will take care of luna. i don't have anyone and i'm getting really nervous.

where i find life

this morning, on my run through greenpoint and williamsburg, i ran into the bike new york race. awesome! i ran with them most of my run, and they were cheering me on almost as much as i was! "where's your bike?" 'run, run, run!" i mostly yelled, "woooooh! lookin' good!" and clapped. the energy was so amazing. it reminded me of the marathon, and the high, high energy that the audience spread to the runners. there weren't too many cheerers (actually, i was one of the only ones in my hood) but it was such a fun way to give energy to people.

since my trip to colorado, i've been breaking down the boundaries whereever i can--on line for security, i ended up in a bizarre joking conversation with some guy. the guy in the middle seat of my plane to denver was a chatter, and we ended up talking. (i fell asleep for 20 minutes, and woke up, thirsty. before i could go to sleep, he began talking, "so you slept." yup.) the streets of boulder are filled with friendly people--including old friends--so i could never walk far without a hello. it reminded me of how cold and selfish nyc is. i want to GIVE. i talk to old ladies in line at the grocery store, laugh at some guy as he tries to tell others we are on our first date at the bus stop when i don't even know him, bat my eyelashes at a neighborhood cat. i can't simply exist; i must give back.

where is my mind?

lately all i seem to do is run around doing stuff for my trip. i have this massive packing list on which i have way too many things i need to buy or get or put together. at the same time, i love my apt so much lately and don't want to leave all of its comforts (including my adorable cat, meow). i know i'm not ready to leave greenpoint or my apt or my cushy paychecks, yet in a matter of four weeks (!), i'll be in iceland before you can spell reyjkavik. i feel as i'm at some turning point in my life.

being in colorado has also made me re-examine nyc. and then i think there was some study showing how much pollution nyc had. how long do i see myself staying in nyc? till i get bored of it. i'd like to stay here another five years or so. then move to some chill town in california, like santa barbara where you can bike everywhere, have a garden, and i can work at an academic library and write, and watch luna chase butterflies (although luna will be 8 by that time, and probably even fatter and lazier).

i'm getting super nervous thinking about being alone, away from home for three and a half months, far from the comforts of home (if i get sick, i'll be in some place not home; if i miss my family or friends i'm screwed).

okay i'm going to go running and think about this while i let my feet carry me where my mind never can.

this is the reservoir in nederland. gorgeous. my view is of a yucky street. one day i'd like to have a view, but really, for starters, i'll take clean air. 

here's a photo of venessa at her picturesque bus stop. trevor says she looks like a hippie here (i think it's the glasses), but we both agree she's cute. great shirt. venessa was wonderful enough to invite me into her home, and remind me of how the chaos new yorkers invite into their lives isn't always healthy. 

me and anna in the allen ginsberg library. anna is also going to library school--she reminds me of the excitement i once had for library school. i hope one day to work in a creative institution like the allen ginsberg library. 

this is a photo of me and one of my naropa library patrons. my trip to colorado has reminded me of how nice things can be. i am never going to work in a corporate library again. 

it's time to leave

i know it's time to leave corporate america when i get mad looking
at magazines at work.

for example,

"David Boies takes on Eliot Spitzer in the Fight Over AIG" (Forbes,
May 9, 2005)
Um, as far as I know, AIG did many things wrong, and I think Spitzer
rocks b/c he is making corporate crooks pay...and I like that about
Spitzer.

"Why Google Scares Gates: It's Not Just Web Search. Google Attacks
Microsoft on its Own Turn: Your PC. How Gates is Fighting Back."
(Fortune May 2, 2005)
I don't like the monopoly that Google has on web searching, and I do
like vivisimo (www.vivisimo.com) but I HATE the monopoly Microsoft
has. Yes I have Windows, but I read a lot, abt what MS is saying abt
Linux (that Linux users and creators deny). Grrrrr. We the people
need more choices!

Information Week (April 25, 2005) also has Gates on the cover, as if
he doesn't get enough publicity. I do like that Gates has donated
many computers to various libraries around the country, including a
library I previously worked at!

what is important to me: my life, not my job

i was getting my new laptop at work when one of the IT people tried to
give me an instructional sheet on how to access the internet from
home. she said, "you probably don't use this too often," and i
said, "actually, as a junior librarian, i never work from home." she
said, "well take it anyway. keep it in the bottom of your computer
bag, and if anything ever happens again...then you'll have it." i
immediately think of sept 11th, and think, fuck work, like i would
stop to detach all the wires and shutdown my laptop, put it in the
bag, etc, if planes flew into my bldg. perhaps she noticed my
expression and said, "like if the building is closed for some
reason, you know." like what reason? that totally pissed me off. it's the idea
of business continuity and even if planes have been flown into
buildings and people have died, i should be sitting in my apartment,
not mourning, but doing research on my laptop in my living room.

fuck that.

colorado

i went to colorado for nearly a week and had a wonderful time. i felt so free. no work, no apt that needed to be swept, mopped, scrubbed, no dealing with annoying cell phone calls, with hating work and annoying commutes. instead i relaxed, saw friends, and stared at the beautiful views.

i feel so mellow, so chill still. the pace of life here in nyc is a bit too much at times, and i hate bullshit at work. taking off has helped me feel so relaxed. nothing like a little distance to put life into perspective. seeing old friends was wonderful, and i really missed colorado.

i feel it's hard for me to write abt this, so i'll include some stuff i wrote in my journal:

colorado is filled with a beauty and a cleanliness unlike new york. the people here allow less chaos into their lives. i feel since i left here i have tremendous growth--juggling a full-time corporate job with library school, seeing t leave, etc--it's been hard, but i've learned what's important to me--family, friends, writing, staying true to myself. this trip is heaven--i think of how nice it was to live in boulder, yet i call new york city home.
for the first time in a while, i feel at peace.
people are impressed at how i'll be getting my MLS, going to europe, being a professional librarian (yet i like to focus on my writing as who i am, not my work). it's wonderful to see the trails i used to run on, the mountains i used to gaze at, the friends who helped me with way too much. i feel more settled, more grownup, although the energetic cheryl is coming out.
v's life seems much calmer compared to mine, more relaxed. i envy the many elements of her life--such as growing her garden--and i delight in the beauty of nature that colorado and v share with me.
so many memories...so much love. i left too soon, even as i was here.
i can't believe how much i've missed colorado, and how much i will miss it: my true friends, the wonderful health food stories, pearl street (yes, even the wonderful restaurants and cute stores), gorgeous mountain views. i miss tea at the dushanbe-boulder tea house, naropa chai, knowing familiar faces everywhere i go. i love it in boulder. my insane schedule in nyc accomodates my job, not my life.
i can't believe the snow, the rain, and cold, but i can say i had a wonderful time. i feel so relaxed, so at ease, so completely comfortable in my skin.
i wonder why i was in such a rush to leave.

i'm finishing the marathon here! 

avoiding eye contact in the corporate world

an extension on that thought yesterday of the lack of friendliness in new york city....

while sometimes i feel like the whole world is rude, i think my job is filled with way more rude people. i will be washing my hands at the sink next to other people at my job and they will not look at me. in the bathroom, it's silent; everyone is pee shy, and they don't breathe while applying lipliner. people will go out of their way to use a sink where they don't have to make eye contact. if they are next to you, they're stare at their appearance in the mirror, ignoring any timid smile attempts i may make.

no one goes out of their way to look at others, smile, say hello. if i do research for someone for two days and talk with them, discussing their research needs, and see them a week later--they don't even make eye contact. i can't deal with this. "this is a voicemail company," my boss told me when i started. people will send you a voicemail instead of calling; direct interaction is too scary.

i want to work someplace where you say hi to everyone in the hallways, where laughing and smiling among
coworkers--even during small talk, is common.

i want to break into the rigid lines

in the summer of 2001, a group of activists (mostly radical cheerleaders) learned a dance, and performed it on the trains of new york city. we called ourselves the boxcutters (almost immediately, emailing each other on september 11th, knowing our name would be changed and forever feeling somewhat sick when hearing the very word, boxcutter) because we saw ourselves as cutting through the walls new yorkers put up around themselves and getting close to the real people and uniting us. (little did we know, a different set of boxcutters weeks later would transform new yorkers into what we were hoping art would do.) we would be standing on the train, reading ads, or sitting, bored, when the music would come on (a song called "hey lover") we'd get up, start snapping, and do our dance. we would sit when the song was done and talk to the riders about what they thought of our dance. we got some interesting responses.

i have been getting sick of these walls new yorkers erect; let the love in. i'm a hippie in the big city, but in no way am i gonna start living in a tent, wearing a fleece daily and never bathing. i just have a big heart. i hate standing next to people, stone silent, staring at nothing (even if they are staring at your ear, they don't absorb it, they just focus on where they're going next)--why don't we talk? i had a great conversation with a guy reading jorge luis borges on the train, when i was reading michael ondaatje. and then some guy had a huge suitcase with hair care products in it, and we just chatted.

why not lean over to the person next to you, comment on how nice their sweater is, what book they're reading, how wonderful/sucky the weather is, how tired you are, small talk. maybe you'll make a friend, enlighten someone, learn something, or just make your commute a little more pleasant.

the first days of sandals

i wore my black aldo fancy flip flops and though they are comfortable by the end of the summer, after i running around doing errands in soho and by union square, they are hurting. red marks overwhelm my feet. on line at h&m (for 20 minutes, for one skirt!), all of the women around me were taking off their shoes, gazing at their blistered, red, sore feet. we stretched our toes and rubbed our feet against our naked thighs, all aching, all cursing the start of the sandal season yet loving it. mini skirts, tshirts insisting others fuck off, beads made right here in soho, big sunglasses, tanned skin, ipods dangling...the women of new york city all are happy to wear sandals.

revelations at work

everyone at my job thinks i'm an optimist. an optimist or a hippie.
i'm neither, but compared to the all-black wearing look on the dark
side of things, stressing over every little email and memo--what's
the point? is this my life? no, it's merely a period of time where
i'm working at a job that isn't perfect. is there a perfect job?
probably not. even if i'm working at an academic library, chances
are i'll have a stalking patron or a psycho coworker or a long
commute or whatever--nothing is perfect, and bouncing around from
job to job won't solve that either. paychecks are a good thing,
though.

i have been thinking a lot about how our society exists--there's a
lot of anti-capitalism energy, yet i'm not sure what the solution
would be. is canada heaven? switzerland? where is the perfect
society? then you think about it, all that snow in canada, and in
switzerland those hidden explosives in the road creep me out. (do we
have those in the USA?)

i hate the point of view that if you're anti-bush or anti-bush
administration, you're unpatriotic. right now i am not a fan of the
USA at all, and would not call myself patriotic. i love many things
about new york city, and never want to leave. but the inequality of
the USA is disturbing. but is that everything? although, no matter
how poor you are, in canada or the uk, you can go to a doctor. i pay
my own health insurance, and truly value it. i'm glad, and i go to
the doctor when i'm sick or when i need to. i hope whatever job i
have next will offer me health insurance, and even then, i plan on
always looking on the bright side.

looking back

in high school, i used to be one of the arts students--i took tons of art classes, photography classes, was in the thespian guild (which many people called the lesbian guild), and every year, went to the olympics of visual arts in albany, new york, where schools from various parts of the country competed. our illustration group did not win, but all three years i performed in the performing arts category, we won. we wrote scripts, acted them out (whether we were characters in the painting or artists themselves), did research about the paintings, designed our sets, put together costumes. i just started thinking about that, and wow, i really had so many outlets to channel my creative energy.

as adults, to get involved in creative aspects of the world, you must seek it out; it does not come in the form of a flyer on a hallway in your high school or an ad in the school newspaper. you must conscientiously read the village voice and the l magazine, browse through craig's list, even post ads on craig's list. why is it so hard to be creative? if i want to play poker, or talk about football, or discuss the exciting world of hedge funds (what is a hedge fund, by the way? i only research it, but my disdain has prevented me from learning more about it. yuck, financial services industry.)--it's easy. being creative--that's hard.

so i'm glad i creative. i make presents for my family, fashion unusual cat toys for the laziest cat on the earth. i write stories, read novels, write notes to my friends. i make soaps, paint watercolors (even though i have crappy paint and crappy paper and crappy brushes), sketch when i'm bored during class. i think it's important to not forget my creative roots.

viva la creativity!

hungry and weary

i went to a police brutality protest and rally after work today. the energy level of the crowd was low at times, but the fact that there were a lot of youth (esp queer and trans youth) and emotional family members of people who had been shot made up for it. the speeches of the mothers of the shot people--so upsetting. people from copwatch were there, as well as many youth angered about the police brutality. the cops were there, doing nothing. no anger, no tension, just there. i want to make a difference, yet how can we against this police state?

constants in life

my mom says these are the constants in life:

t is asleep; luna is asleep and/or hungry; i am hungry.

i guess luna is what links t and i together.

heaven, new york

i'm somewhere between your arms and the pile of dirty laundry and messy papers in the place i call my apartment. my foot feels like someone ran it over, a 70 year old man has a crush on me and makes kissy lips, i have a tendency to fall for straight girls and gay men, and suddenly i'm wearing all black like any other new yorker. in the sticky summer heat, i'm sitting on your fire escape, drinking chocolate milk. you are watching tv inside, not picking up your telephone, and not answering my questions. i want to leave so badly, but for some reason, can't. i watch two teenagers down the block attempt to figure out how to open up the fire hydrant, and the tears on my face are mixing with sweat and dirt.

cat fur is sticking to my legs, and my skirt is too short and keeps riding up. "you wantin' people to look at you or something?" you asked me. "what, you don't care anyway," i said. you insisted upon a crucifix above your bed even as you engaged in premaritial sex and positions that could never have been condoned by the bible. you called it love and now you called it over.

i stare at the peeling paint on your fire escape, your one dead flowerpot that probably used to have marigolds in it, and two girls making out below me. if only i had it so easy.

when you're passed out and your apartment stinks like bad weed, i climb in the window and walk softly by you, hoping i won't wake you. you call my name as i approach the door, but my slam is the reply. i take the stairs two, three at a time, needing to get out of your house so fast. i know i don't belong.

not wanting to go home, but being too late to wander, i duck into a lounge on my way to the train. i order a martini, and wait for you to meet me. i know you won't; you'll just temporarily curse my absence. i drink two martinis unnoticed. no one talks to me, hits on me, bumps into me. save the bartender, no one knows i am there.

the train is empty. when i get to my stop, i stumbled on shadowy east village streets. streets are ghosts in early mornings. i remember how you kissed me, how you said you hated me.

in my apartment is my cat mewing for food, piles of dirt, sheets that have been on the bed longer than our relationship (and even they are dirty). unable to go in, i smoke cloves on my stoop, one after another, until i have convinced myself i am okay. in my apartment, there are no messages on my answering machine, and i fall asleep on the pile of laundry, cleaner than my sheets and cleaner than you.

being a cat lady

it's happening. i'm about ready to start looking for studio apartments (though i'm more thinking of bed-stuy instead of the bronx) where i can become a cat lady. i need about twelve more cats first.

today i took luna on a walk to emily's (around the block). she walked fine sometimes, other times stopped and tried to hard. i got in a conversation with several old polish people, and they though it was great i was walking my cat. some guy told me he saw a woman wheeling her cat in a cat carriage. i saw it in dr foster & smiths; i totally want it. at emily's, luna hid under the couch. now she's cleaning herself at my feet, so sweet and cute and warms my heart like nothing else. i'm on my way to being a crazy cat lady.

my first plan was love; as that's not working out, the cat lady approach seems more attractive than ever. i have a lot of furniture, but it was be crammed into my studio for my cats.

my cat lady idea is somewhat a joke, somewhat not. i don't want my apartment to smell like cat pee, but i really do want another cat. a furry little friend for luna.

i always said if things with t didnt work out, i'd get 15 cats and move to a studio apartment in the bronx (b/c how else could i afford to live if i'm feeding 15 cats?).

today, i'm thinking i'll probably stay in my greenpoint apartment with just one cat, but sometimes, it's nice to fantasize. wouldn't it be fun sleeping in a bed with 18 cats?

wine and whine

i had a meltdown on friday. i was hating my job more than ever all day at work, annoyed at every little thing my boss asked me to do, ready to quit. i took a mental health break around 230 and took a long walk. i spent time in borders looking at all the travel magazines, soothing myself. really, my ticket is bought, i'll be gone soon. this won't matter.

even better: i give my notice in three weeks!

i got the naropa magazine in the mail and i looked at it, what my former peers and classmates and library patrons were doing and i started crying. naked, in the fetal position of my futon. the corporate world is pointless, and i can't believe i went from snazzy cosmopolitan girl in the mountains to a corporate librarian...i'm too much of a hippie to work in the corporate world.

i'm stuck somewhere between a martini and a microbrew.

these day jobs just suck the energy out of us. my dream life would involve writing, running, yoga, doing creative crafty things. instead, i work at a job i hate, come home and seethe and eat chocolate to pep me up, and then feel too low to do much besides schoolwork. i want to be the creative person i was at naropa.

i had a pretty good weekend, except for the parts when i was thinking about, talking about, or doing schoolwork. train rides prove useful for the editing of papers. i'm almost done with a paper that focuses on how academic libraries changed with the popularization of the internet, now i just have to write 16 more analytical annotations for children's books. (so basically, i'm writing theoretical mini-essays on childrens' books, with more words in my essays than there are in the books!) this weekend i watched and the band played on, gave a radical cheerleading workshop, went to the donkey show, spent the rest of that random saturday night wandering around manhattan (high on life but yearning for a little bit of sangria to go along with it), took my cat on a walk (thus winning over the elderly polish population of greenpoint), prepared elaborate meals, ate cookies with emily...and here i am, sunday night, realizing i still have way too much work to do.

sometimes this schoolwork seem so pointless. like, yeah, it's great to know of the history of libraries and to know these things, but these analytical essays--i mean, i doubt this will make me a better childrens' librarian. it's busy work, like you did when you were in third grade and your teacher was sick.

dear reader

dear reader,

look at the person you are madly in love with. or look at a photo of them. or if you are not madly in love with someone, but are married (with or without children), or in a serious committed relationship, perhaps planning a wedding or talking about children's names (you argue: your partner thinks it should be duncan for the boy, while you prefer chaucer) or you live together, perhaps are pooling your funds together in a joint bank account or even that old cookie jar that is made up of mostly quarters. picture this person, your saturday night date, your bed hog, the person who buys you flowers on your birthday and feeds your cat cheez-whiz when you are not home, picture them not there.

hard to imagine?

picture them moving away, even disappearing. picture your love starting a separate life: picture them living alone, or with someone else. is this person sexier than you? what will their new apartment look like? will there be any photos of you kept? picture them dating, your old beau buying drinks for people at bars, doing things that were never done with you.

do you feel hurt? it's okay to feel hurt. jealous.

picture yourself moving on, though you could never imagine living without them. you'll cry for several months, bore your friends while your moan over their wonderful qualities, bitch about the problems--which is, of course, why you ended it. or maybe you didn't end it. maybe they disappeared.

everyone has problems. yours just led to the separation.

picture yourself fumbling along in life. you are glad you two broke up anyway; what did we really have going for us, you ask yourself, denying yourself memories of days spent in bed making love, sunday morning brunch, permanent friday night date, someone to laugh with, someone to come with you to a horrid wedding or a dreadful cocktail party. now you are alone, flossing your teeth before bed, staring at your pale face in the mirror, and you wonder about the point of it all.

meanwhile, you quit your job, or go back to graduate school, or have a baby, or get into credit card debt. you go to weddings and cry; at these weddings, you think of what could've happened.

your lives are totally different. you've completely moved on, perhaps are even living in a different country. you speak latin and icelandic now. you have two masters' degrees and a phd. you are well-respected, toil over articles about obscure issues, are happy even though you know you are underpaid and overworked. or you are a failure, still waiting tables with your unpublished poems and high dry cleaning bills. you stress over trinkets and furniture to fill your house, fill your heart.

it's ten years now, and you wonder what it was like to be in love. do people even really think like that? you wonder. you are buying cheese in a local store, and you see a couple--that could be you, and that could be them. they are handling different cheeses, walking too close, laughing softly. under the flourescent lights, you see yourself tilting up towards your old lover, letting them kiss you in the middle of the store. you are dreaming of babies, or of a lifetime of travel, or of goals--houses, loans paid off, seeing the taj mahal, a great job, multiple orgasms, seeing your partner get an advanced degree or a promotion or recognition of some sort.

suddenly the couple moves on, and you're left alone. alone, so very alone. you wonder what has happened; a decade of empty dates. you wonder if it was even right in the first place to have broken up; you remember endearing smiles and massages on greek islands; you can't remember why you stopped loving each other. or how. or if it was really love, or why, how, what.

you select your cheese. you want to leave immediately, but know you need food for supper. mechanically, bread, milk, chocolates, spinach, roma tomatoes. at the register, you are standing behind the couple, who are laughing as they place items on the conveyer belt. you think about how your life could have been. you move over to the next register, where there is no line. the cashier smiles at you and engages you in a conversation about the weather. you find yourself talking too much, and the cashier’s cheeks are pink, and the cashier tells you to come again soon. you think, yes, maybe you will.

in the parking lot, you watch the couple struggle with their bags, and you turn in the opposite direction. you know it’s the long way, but you don’t care. you have all the time in the world: to think, to live, to be.

i am a runner

last night as soon as i got home from class, i was shrugging off
corporate clothes for the clothes i feel most comfortable in:
running clothes. my orange saucony shorts, a white t-shirt from a
5miler i ran last october, a sports bra. sneakers, my brace, and
socks. puff albuterol (twice), foradil (once), flovent (once) and
intal (once). and i'm gone.

outside, the sun was slowly setting, and i appreciated daylight
savings time. i ran quickly, from franklin to bank and down wythe,
over to berry. i ran efficiently and happily, loving the spring
weather, the air on my bare legs and arms, running fast,
smiling. "everything is wonderful." i turned around on north 3rd,
then ran along the water on kent. i paused twice on kent, ostensibly
to stretch, but really, to gawk at the beautiful view. the sky was a
mess of blue and grey, swirls, like a painting. buildings were light
up in white, blue, pink, yellow. it was simply so beautiful. i
couldn't touch it--because i was part of it. it was so real and so
fresh and so wonderful. yes, i'm in dirty nyc, but this is a
wonderful place to live, my home, where i feel so right. and
running? why it's the only way that i can possibly explore the world.

one day i'd like to do a forrest gump. not the usa, maybe, but a
small country. or even--iceland! there are so many places in the
world that i can learn about by running. i know other travelers are
like, "i don't work out when i travel" but i insist upon my two
running outfits. i'm not just working out; i'm learning about the
culture and myself--and it is my practice.

i am a runner.

things to do with really, really ripe strawberries

• chopped them up. put them in a bowl with yogurt (i prefer brown cow's cream top vanilla), coarse brown sugar, and sliced almonds. stir and eat.
• throw them into a blender with ice, other fruits if you desire, juice, and yogurt. blend. drink.
• mash and spread onto thick slices of bread for a homemade jam.
• blend with ice and vodka in the blender.
• search on the internet for sangria recipes, and other fruity drinks like daiquiris.
• spread across your lover's body.
• feed them to your lover or self covered with a fine sprinkling of sugar.
• add to cereal.
• make strawberry walnut oatmeal. here's how: follow directions for old-fashioned quaker oats. when it's done, add walnuts, strawberries, brown sugar, and milk.
• add to a light mixed green salad.
• add to rice pudding.
• top plain brown rice with butter, a little sugar and salt, and strawberries.

i have some really, really ripe strawberries (which is why they were on sale). here are some of my ideas. enjoy!

some books you just need to read right now

i've been doing a ton of reading lately, and wanted to make some suggestions to ya'll. a lot of it is travel-related, surprise, surprise. right now i'm involved in the drama of the backpack, but here's some reading to keep you occupied.

• A Thousand Days in Venice: An Unexpected Romance by Marlene De Blasi. This book is fantastic. Marlena is "of a certain age" (I'm guessing in her late forties/early fifties) when she falls in love with a Venetian. She sells her home in the USA, and moves to Venice to consumate their affair. It is such a beautiful, sweet book. I was practically crying as I finished it, for reasons of happiness.
• Tales of a Female Nomad by Rita Golden Gelman. You can find more information about it on Rita's site, http://www.ritagoldengelman.com/book.html I found this book absolutely fascinating, and again, it dealt with an older woman traveling. She doesn't fall in love, but she has such a fantastic and wonderful life. It's truly a terrific memoir.
• Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami. I have read all of the Murakami books that are translated into English, and he is a fantastic Japanese writer. You may find yourself addicted to his writing style. His books are very unusual, and may seem to be science-fiction but I can't stop reading them! (This is why my huge paper has practically nothing on it, while I have finished that book!)
• Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer. This book is a fantastic retelling of a crisis on Mt. Everst that led to the death of many hikers. Krakauer was there, and you really feel like you are there. Yes, you may even cry.
• Without Reservations by Alice Steinbach. This is another tale of a forty-something woman who travels around the world. So inspirational.

What have I been listening to?

• The new Moby CD, Hotel
• http://www.kcrw.com/online/ My fave online radio station
• Judge Jules on the BBC (accessed through www.bbc.co.uk, click on radio, and it's under dance music)
• Some mix CDs Venessa made me
• My cat

happy hardcore has inspired me with its lyrics

think about what this means to you (from my old dj indecent tape):

"love, it's just a dream away"

that's all it is in my world, always a dream away, never quite in my grasp. once, years ago, i had it, but since then, it's only a dream away.

sometimes i really hate men

when i was younger, and was asked out on dates by patron who were at
least ten years older than i was (and possible 20 or 30 years
older), the director of the library suggest i dress "less
attractive." as it was summertime and we had crappy air
conditioning, i wore skirts and dresses daily (shorts were not
allowed). i took offense to that; i should not have to alter my
behavior because there are perverts who are into 16 year old girls.
THEY should be the ones doing the changing.

likewise, this is how i am feeling today. i LOVE summertime, and
yes, i LOVE short skirts. i love skirts of any kind, but especially
short ones, ones that are pleated or that flutter out as i spin.
today i was wearing a knee-length one that had a slit, and it has a
tendency to hike up around my waist so every so often i need to pull
it down. so i'm crossing broadway by city hall and this asshole
truck driver is like "nice skirt." i gave him the finger and told
him to go fuck himself.

it surprises when my strong, feminist friends are shy of telling
guys to get the hell away. i like to make them feel shitty--they are
making me feel shitty with each "compliment." it's not a compliment,
go away!

and i know i'm beautiful, i know i have great legs (which is why i
love to wear skirts), and i don't need reinforcement from some
disgusting men.

and as the cheer goes,
My body's nobody's body but mine,
You run your own body, let me run mine!