I want to be part of...

Tourism of Doom!!

Everything can be seen in black and white

So I just finished up my Friday evening by watching the 1942 classic Random Harvest. Well...it's a classic to me...and about 3 million really old people. and my mom. Therefore, it's important. It's a CLASSIC. I mean come on Greer Garson! War! Amnesia! Ronald Coleman! Random things! what could be better? (note: I'm not being sarcastic, I love this movie) While I was watching the film I not only walked on my roomate's back to ease her discomfort, but I started thinking about black and white filmmaking. Mostly because at one point the light (meant to be sunlight) made greer garson's (Paula's/Margaret's) hair shine really brightly and I thought wow you know in color films...you don't get that. you get brighter colors, not the impact of light and dark, the beauty in the purity. So anyway, this blog is not actually about black and white films (although I'd LOVE to talk about the dramatic irony in having the audience realize that Margaret is Paula way earlier than Charles does and wayyy earlier in the movie as opposed to in the novel (1942 James Hilton) where only at the very very end do both Charles and reader discover that Paula and Margaret are one in the same....unless you're reading this blog in which case well you're spoiled so...go read the book and enjoy your aforementioned dramatic irony.

Moving on. this blog is about black and white THINGS. Not people, mind you. I think racial tensions are stupid and I pretty much refuse to discuss them. I love all people regardless of color. Stupid people, however, are not loved. But that's just me. I'm...intelligist. Anyway. So. black and white things. Well...there are films and photographs and stuff but I'm not going to TALK about them. No. I'm going to make everyone a little more informed on the world of what is black and white.

1. Bunnies
In a google search for "black & white" I came across this clip of bunnies named "black" and "white" eating. they're adoreable. If you like bunnies, go.

2. Black & White Print Communications
I'm not actually sure what this company does but it has something to do with corporate branding and "collateral materials." If someone figures THAT one out, lemme know.

3. Black & White Cookies





okay seriously if i NEED to explain that one then I also NEED to kick you.

4. Black & White: The Computer Game
Developed by Lionhead Studios in 2001, this empire-game makes the player a "god" ruling over an "island" populated by "various tribes."
Apparently there is a sequel, Black & White 2.

anyone???


5. Black & White Cabs
This Australian Taxi service provides both everyday i-bought-too-much-at-the-suburban-australian-mall transport, as well as school transportation. Isn't that lovely of them? PS did you know that they have 6-digit phonenumbers in Australia? I'm almost jealous. Not even area codes...

6. Black & White: A New York Magazine Critics' Pick bar in the suburbs of the East Village. they do open mic AND have a DJ. sounds like fun!

7. Swans
Yes, they can be black OR white!




anyway, that's it for right now. i think i've fulfilled by boredom quota for the evening. peace out :) :) :)

when self-defense is no longer about self

As we all know, there's a lot of controversy regarding the right to bear arms...or perhaps you DON'T all know. for reference, see Wikipedia...or, you know, the Constitution. Second Amendment. It's the second door on your left right past the Declaration of Independence. You can also check out the NRA's website. They know all about firearms and one's right to bear them. They even have a splashy flashy website. oh, and apparently you can even donate a deer on the site. but the link doesn't connect to anything to do with deer so i'm omitting it for this blog.

ANYWAY there's gun control and right to bear arms controversy. What's new? Well...what's NEW is that on March 27, 2007 Texas Governor Rick Perry of Texas signed a bill into law that "states that a person has no duty to retreat from an intruder before using deadly force" (Dallas News). In layman's terms, this means that a private citizen may protect their home, car, or their workplace (which, of course, is not actually an employee's property so one must wonder where the line gets drawn. like...can you only use deadly force if someone attempts to rob your cubicle? and hey, what if someone DOES try to rob your cubicle. What if your most annoying worker intrudes on your workspace and steals a post-it...? can you use deadly force? According to the Dallas News article, this "castle doctrine" bill (named for the idea that a man's home is his castle--and his car is his steed???) "also provide[s] civil immunity for a person who lawfully uses deadly force in any of the circumstances spelled out in the bill." Note: those circumstances require the building or car to be "occupied at the time for the deadly force provision to apply" and the killer must not be the instigator of the attack. Very interesting. Yes, it's all VERY interesting. But not as interesting as what follows now.

On November 17, a Texan by the name of Joe Horn (I call him a Texan because he is, in fact, from Texas and, thereby, affected by the aforementioned castle doctrine bill) shot and killed two men. But it's not like he, you know, walked up to them in a supermarket or anything. no no no. he felt threatened by these two men. they were burglarizing his neighbor's home. and not just any neighbor, but a neighbor with whom he didn't have a very close relationship. Yes, Mr. Horn shot and killed two men...with a shotgun...and, according to CBS they were both shot from less than 15 feet away...and all for a neighbor that he didn't really know well? Yes. Not only that, but according to CBS' documentation of the 911 call transcript, Mr. Horn argued with the dispatcher about whether he should go outside to stop them with force.

Now, I know what you're thinking: but wait! he wasn't defending his own property! Exactly. that seems to be the root of the complication. And it's not like he shot them in the legs to keep them from running. No, he shot them dead. But still, Hron "was not taken into custody after the shooting...a grand jury will decide if charges are to be filed." Why? The law never said 'your neighbor's property' it says YOUR property. the neighbor's house wasn't occupied by the person who did the killing. Doesn't that make him the instigator? doesn't that say "off to jail with you now!"
No, apparently it doesn't. The New York Times today created a community comment board for Readers' Comments and Responses to what people felt about Mr. Horn's actions. Definitely click on that NYTimes link and definitely read the responses. The majority of them make them pretty sick, not gonna lie. Comments like "If criminals were routinely shot ... instead of trying to protect them from their own folly ... there would be fewer crimin[als]" (S.A.W., Washington DC) and "Illegal aliens have no business in this country and they should be caught and deported at every chance. In the meantime, American homes and property are being burglarized by them, our medical services are overwhelmed by illegals with no remunerative compensation, our law enforcement can't possibly do enough, and on and on" (Dude, USA...yes, he called himself "DUDE")...quick comment on this, the names of the two men were spanish, but no where in the initial report did it say they were illegal aliens. now, that is possible that they were, but really this negative and poorly informed outlook on international inhabitants is pretty disgusting to hear coming from anyone. Oh and a personal favorite: "It's his life. He was born free. So it's his decision. If they didn't want to be shot then they should not have angered him. End of story." (Tatiana Covington, Tuscon AZ). Wait...if they didn't want to get shot they shouldn't have ANGERED him??? what about if my roomate eats my cheese or my damn coworker steals my post-its or my sister steals a CD out of my car (note: I don't have a car)? Should I shoot them because I'm angry? According to 2/3 of those commenting on this situation, yes.

What do you think?

#28

Dear America,
It's been so long since I've lived in suburbia full time that you'll have to tell me: are large hair bows, slow walkers and thin coats al the rage in suburbia, too, or is that just the tourist mentality in NYC? or should I say herd mentality? Face it, tourists are slow anywhere you go (prime example - the molases that is disney). By slow I refer to the infinite wisdom of Jack Kerouac who asks whether the luxury of cars and simply crossing a parking lot to get anywhere has decreased the average speed of your average pedestrian. Why yes, it has. I can appreciate wishing to see the sights and enjoy the time with your family, but if you want to go slow opt for a bus instead of the subway, don't clutter NYC sidewalks. Which brings me to my next tourist complaint--herding into food shops. Every Starbucks is the same, there's no need to stop in at every one. and yes, you have them at home too! Fortunately these tourists seem to opt ONLY for the food shops with higher fat and sugar content. 90% don't know what a Jamba Juice is and the 10% who do would rather cuddle up to a dirty water dog or coffee on their trip which leaves me free to be alone with my Jamba Juice and watch all you sillies through the window. Just me and the locals hanging by our windows or hiding in our Whole Foods* Jamba Juice.

Note: if you ever DO stop in on your trip, might I recommend my friend Molly's fave MEGA MANGO and my personal fave FIT & FRUITFUL: Lemonade, green tea, lime sherbert, mangos, strawberries, ice...all blended with a Weight Loss booster. It's the next best thing to sucking on citrus...which...is probably something that only I as a Florida girl would enjoy.

Add'l side note: NYC's straight males also tend to avoid Jamba so it's not the place to pick up guys...unless you're also a guy.





* Whole Foods: another healthy chain protected by the Tourists are Required to Eat Poorly on Their Vacation Act.

#27

Life is a precariously balanced list of hopes and disappointments. That's how Mandy ended up working the "Nirvana" knitted materials booth at Columbus Circle's Holiday Bazaar. That's how Pete a 53-year-old black man from Pittsburg ended up a bike messenger in NY. And that's how Alex walked into my life. Doug from "Nirvana" re-reads a Daily News from the trash bin. "Little ditty 'bout Jack n' Diane..." in the background. Alex stands, shoulders slumped at the entrance to the bazaar, sighing into his phone, clutching his I ♥ NY bag. Okay...so Alex didn't actually walk into my life and his name (most likely) isn't even actually Alex. But he looks like an Alex. He, too, has experienced hope and disappointment--hoping to buy a gift--found nothing. that's how our lives function. We all settle for what we can get and we end up semi disappointed. Mike over there settled for that "Nirvana" sweater vest because he feels his wife will settle for it just as he is. I've settled for sitting on this cold fountain because the stone is a seat and the light is bright enough and the wind isn't TOO bad. Even Mandy glances at the used Daily News. What will you settle for this Christmas?

Subways this weekend

So...the downtown A and the C are skipping a bunch of important stations this weekend...like mine. So now I have to wait in the 30-degree-but-it-feels-like-20-degree weather for a BUS so that I can take that down to a station where my train IS stopping so I can get to work. It's weekends like this when I wish I still lived in Orlando. 

not worked in Orlando, though. because that sucked. 

#26

If there’s anything I hate slightly less than not having a pen in my bag it’s 2 uptown E trains in a row. Like, where the hell is my C train and why would so many people need an E train? Come ON! A man just walked down the staircase next to me…with hiccups…every 3rd step was a high-pitched yelp.

There’s a man on my C train with no legs and I’m not sure ow he got onto this platform since the Times Sq station is not yet evolved into an elevator station…unless I guess if he took a train that came from an Elevator station…but I can’t think of one. Damn transit system. But he managed to get on the train by pulling his wheelchair through the closing doors. It was kind of like an action film.

Supposedly it’s going to be 10 degrees tomorrow? At least, in Poughkeepsie. I ahven’t checked our weather report. And it’s supposed to snow on Sunday. I don’t wanna. If it’s gonna snow that means boots, sweatshirt, coat, sweat pants, jeans, gloves, hat, and I don’t wanna. It’s days like this that make me miss
1) Florida
2) Fordham. Where you never actually have to go outside
3) Coco Cay, Bahamas.

Speaking of la Florid, I’m going home early for Xmas. Of course, gone are the days when I’d go home for a month in college b/c of Xmas break because girl’s gotta work, but 10 days in O-town is way better than 3.5. And I think for my next vaycay I’ll take a cruise.

By March or April I should have another sick day, 3 or 4 comp days, and a floating holiday, so god forbid I’m still at Roundabout, I’ll take a floating vacation.

So yeah, if anyone’s gonna be in Orland over Christmas, I’ll be there 12/17 to 12/27 J

#25

It being the holiday season I’ve decided it’s time to do a little write up on shopping and customer service—two things wholly related and yet so often dichotomous. As a CSR, my motto is “the customer is never right—anyone who says different is trying to buy something.” Serves all of us consumers right. Understanding this motto, I go into holiday shopping with my cynicism and a guard in tow.

There are 3 kinds of holiday shoppers—the first, those who make a list, check it twice, and then freak out when Toys R Us runs out of Tickle Me Elmo XXX. The second—those who shop purely by inspiration and often end up buying too much for one person and far too little for the next. The third, like me, are those who make a tentative “idea” list and base inspirations on my previously thought out plans.

A few years ago, I was purely an “inspired” shopper, which led me to being roped into far too many free standing mall cart holiday specials, one of which was the cart for Dead Sea Minerals. Now, I will say, their products are pretty good. But their sales reps are subversive glorified telesales commission-based whiney bitches and just too fucking persistent. So I made a point to not even give that cart a second glance when shopping at the Manhattan Mall this week. The problem, of course, was that It was standing between the store I’d just exited and the exit I wanted. Well, I was screwed. I knew I’d be targeted since I was carrying shopping bags (and all consumers MUST want to consume more) and my face was a little blotchy. Essentially I should have had a bulls eye printed on my hoodie.

I attempted a casual walk out of Charlotte Russe to the tune of “oh I’m deaf in my right ear” and made a beeline for the door. Unfortunately, the very ill-used and undersold sales rep is much more persistent than the easily-ignored-$18/hr-“do-you-like-stand-up?”-and-help-save-the-children”-guys on the street.

She was on my heels the second I stepped out of the door. Her first “excuse me” was more like “do you have the time?.” The second excuse me was more like “come back, you dropped your wallet.” By now I was a good 10 feet from her cart. The third “excuse me” came 20 feet from the cart to the tune of my mother’s “Lauren Theresa Cartelli get you ass back here!” And she was right behind me.

Now, usually, at this point, I would do 1 of 2 things. A) I could continue to ignore her and go on my merry way. B) I could turn to her and say something to the effect of “wow, your product must be really shitty if you’re not worrying about people stealing it when you desperately chase would-be customers. I couldn’t do the second option because the product is over priced, but not crappy, therefore she’s just a desperate moron working on crap + commission. And I couldn’t go on being deaf because I was kind of afraid that she’d make a grab at my arm and I couldn’t risk smacking her with my gifts because they weren’t heavy enough to knock her out.

So I created another option. At the end of the 3rd very rude, impatient, demanding, threatening, and just plain loud “excuse me” I spun around, putting my face in hers since she’d been following so closely behind me, held my right index finger in her face as one would a naughty dog and firmly said NO.

Spun back around, kept walking.

I could hear her sucking her teeth in anger as I walked off. She can get over it. Find people skills and move on. And I wasn’t even an actual customer. If she’d actually succeeded in getting me to turn around as if interested, no way would I actually buy anything after that display

In another prime holiday example of rude customer service—an example where I was actually a customer AND actually right—I’m boarding my flight to Orlando on the Tuesday before Christmas. I’ve got a backpack on, and I’m carrying another bag in front of me. I’ve just turned into the aisle from the jetway entrance of my Delta plane. I’ve got two walls on my sides because I’m at the entrance for first class. Directly in front of me is an elderly man, pulling a very large-shouldn’t-even-be-a-carry-on-suitcase. Directly behind me—a blonde stewardess and a very skinny black stewardess doing herself up as if for the Delta beauty pageant. Her name is Brenda. I can hear the banter between the two. And just as I squeeze into what is actually “first class space” Brenda says she’s going to start getting drink orders from first class patrons.

She comes up behind me and says “Can I squeeze past you?” I turn to her and sympathetically say “no, you realy can’t.” she says “why? What’s in front of you?” I said “a long line and a very large suitcase” at which point she squeezed into the 4 inches between me and the starboard wall (eliminating the space between myself and the port wall. “But you can try if you must” I said. She looks at me and sneers and says “I CAN because I WORK here.” Which was obvious by the red scarf and garish makeup. She then proceeded to squeeze herself all the way up to the bulkhead to get first class drink orders and once I reached the bulkhead, now had to squeeze past her which seemed to defeat the initial point. Now, I was in Zone 6 of 8 or 9 so there were still several people behind me, so she COULD have just gotten on the line behind me and waited to get 4 rows back. Because god forbid 1st class passengers should have to wait an extra 2 minutes to place their drink orders (they won’t get them for a while, anyway).

But this is what I don’t understand about Delta. Delta’s got this ad campaign (all over the C-train mind you) about CHANGE and all the CHANGES they’re making (Specifically it’s on flights from the East to the West Coast, and from NY to Atlanta. And part of the campaign is “since when is an airline’s time more important than yours?” Which is exactly right. I mean—Jet Blue, the now-defunct Song airlines—they had no first class section. Everyone was treated the same and WELL so why should I get nastier treatment from an airline that is so “CHANGING” and which I’m paying MORE for—an airline that should make you feel valued…? I’ll be writing a letter…

notes from a journal that doesn't live on the subway

Yesterday, on my way home, the guitarist who often plays in the southwest isde of the 42^nd street station was playing "Memory" from CATS. Today, there was a handicapped man in a wheelchair parked on the corner of 39^th and 7^th, playing "Reflection" from MULAN on a trumpet. And the other day there was a college kid playing violin on the A-platform, making a spectacular attempt at "Ave Maria."

I don't know where I was going with that. Happy observation? Artistic pleasure? Sympohnic Meditation? There ya go. Who knows…

In other news, I'm reaching a point of turmoil where I like where I am enough to stay, but I hate it enough to desire to move on. A year from now, I don't want to be in this same seat. Year from now I want to be somewhere else. Not just WORK somewhere else. I want to move on just a little bit…at a time. A bigger show, I bigger part, a bigger paycheck, a bigger knowledge… I want to move on. New York's been my ideal for so long—for real, there's no place like it. But maybe IT is not what I want right now. I mean, seriously, whatever happened to wanting to be everywhere at once, to exploring? I want to split everything I own between a giant travelling trunk and a storage cube on the upper west side and go on tour. Or move everything I own to another county. Anywhere. Italy, Sicily, Spain, Argentina, Peru, England, Portugal, Germany, Turkey, China, Greece, Austria, Israel, India, Sri Lanka, Ireland, Japan, Russia, Laos…somewhere new. Somewhere where creativity still means something to someone. Somewhere where life does not revolve around the million dollars you might win tomorrow. Whatever happened to baby jane? Maybe she just ran away.

#23

Inspiration is a being. It grabs hold of you, shakes you about until day is night, stars line the pavement, and ocean is sky. And then it holds you in one posiiton for far too long, making you believe that that violence is fact--and that's how you're inspired. You have to survive a tornado before you can write about it. you have to climb the mountain before you can sketch it, and you have to experience human compassion and radiance before you can, yourself, shine. Love and tenderness are not based in fact, but in hope and grace. Grace is not a fact, but a forgiveness for the hardness of life. Hope cannot be acute or obtuse like an angle, but it controls our perspective nonetheless. Hope gets me hope every night on the train. I hope it runs local, i hope i get an empty seat. i hope i can climb the 4 flights home, i hope the elevator's working, i hope my room's not too hot, i hope my roomate's already asleep, i hope i'm not cranky in the morning, i hope i remember to blog this.

And somehow, in all that grief and worry, hope is a positive radiance. Because it's based in my love of living. and love, no matter what storybooks or advice columnists or those little boxes of games and books you buy by the register at Borders say, love is subjective. Because love and hope go hand-in-hand. "For love is like a tree, it grows of its own accord, it puts down deep roots into our whole being, and often continues to put out leaves over a heart in ruins." --Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame de Paris, Book 8, Ch. 4...no matter what happens to you, somehow yo keep going, because as far as we know, tomorrow is on its way.

I hate writers who are not tender with their words. you have to be, or all worth inspiring will go to waste in the midst of elipses and poorly phrased fragments. inspiration does not come easy. I've been waiting for it for a long time. finally, i've got it.

That moment when you realize that your priorities are in place, and its everyone else's vision of necessity is skewed--that's enlightenment. Not everything is written with pen and paper. I don't do long goodbyes. Once it's done, there's no point in torturing myself further. Maybe that's why i hate funerals.

#22

Today I got my first guide to alumni events from Fordham. They make being an alumnus sound so glamorous. They do alumni bar nights, alumni GO trips, alumni excursions to places like Ireland, China, and French Polynesia.

Boy I hope they still have French Polynesia on the list 20 years from now—since it'll take 11 years to pay my student loans and 9 more to save up for French Polynesia…

I got caught up watching C-Span earlier this afternoon. I'll have to elaborate on that when the train's not swinging back and forth so violently.

Later…

So anyway, I was watching C-Span today and they were discussing a bill that had to do w/ funding and support for Native American housing which I thought brilliant at first. It was drawn up by, I think, 2 republicans and 3 democrats, and helmed by a Republican representative from New Mexico, which is fantastic because it was drawn up by a state that actually has dealings w/ Native American tribes.

But then a problem was brought up – the fact that the Cherokee people do not see former slaves (now free-men) of their tribe as Cherokees and if funding went through, it would not assist THOSE people. Now, this is an interesting situation. Because it calls into question where we draw the line when it comes to Native American tribes, as independent nations within the US.

Morally, and according to American history, it would only be right that the Cherokees accept black freemen as their brothers. That's one argument. But at the same time, it seems to bear a similar ring as a certain college applications controversy. Where do you draw the line? Do we, as a nation, recognize tribes as independent nations with their own by-laws…why are we spending money to help "Native American Reservations" instead of "new Mexico" or "South Dakota" and "Montana."

It's because we, as a nation, are afraid. I completely respect sovereign Native American nations as such and am eternally heart broken about what this country did to them and their land. But why is our country willing to take these steps and not others? Fear.

For instance, the bill presented includes assistance for Native Hawaiians. Well, in Hawaii, there's a government-funded program through Kulaiwi schools to protect and maintain the use of the Hawaiian language. Why is there no such gov't-funded program fro the Sioux or the Cherokee or the Seminole? Is it because Hawaiian is more novelized? Is it because of fear of more "foreign" languages in the continental US? Why do US schools offer courses in German, French, Spanish, Italian, and Japanese and, only in some places, Chinese? Why do we not encourage Swahili, Arabic, Twi, Hawaiian, Cherokee, Hebrew, Portuguese, Russian, Slavic languages….

Why do our "classics" involve Greek and Latin but not ancient Egyptian?

It's not as if we couldn't find people to teach these classes. We're letting enough French and Spanish persons emigrate, why would letting in more Israeli, Iraqi, Kenyan, Polish and Ugandan be such a problem?

Since when is the American dream only for those who speak "cleaner" languages?

That was a long and, I think, non-sensical rant.

But I'm stuck on the train in Brooklyn right now and can do nothing but write.

Sometimes…much of the time… I wonder if I'm the only person thinking about these things. Does anyone else watch C-Span? Has anyone but me, in the past two years, accessed the Kulaiwi site and taken online lessons in a language I have no rational relation to? Does anyone else realize how loud Barney Frank is…or know WHO he is? Does anyone else find that they're torn constantly between what they love to do, and what they WOULD love to BE doING?

I went to a random baseball game today. Phil had tickets to the Cyclones/Spinners game out at Keyspan Park at Coney Island. I'd never been. I figured I'd have a good time w/ Phil and get to see a landmark before it goes. And, of course, I brought my camera.

I said, to Phil, if there were one thing I could enhance photography with, it would me scent…smell. For instance, when he and I finally walked down to the boardwalk and the pier, it was dark. The waves were lapping in, there were people still fishing at 9:30pm, there was a man who rode by us on his bike, topless, who proceeded to park his bike on the boardwalk, strip his pants and underwear off on the sand, and go swimming naked in the ocean. But at the same time, you could smell the salt water, you could smell the heat in the sand leftover from day, you could smell the fish being caught down the pier, and you could smell the caramel corn that'd been spilled on the playground yards away, hours ago. That's what I wanted in my pictures THAT smell. Of all of it.

I'll have a lot to type out tomorrow. It's a long ride home from Coney Island. And I'm starting to come down from my pixie stick high.

"It's a long way down
It's a long way down
It's a long way down
To the place where
We started from…"

Suddenly Sarah McLachlan came to me. Random. I remember, freshman, sophomore, and junior years of college…I don't remember doing this senior year…I would go to the piano practice rooms after rehearsal and play multiple riffs and renditions of Sarah McLachlan's "Last Dance." It calmed me made me want to get through the next day. Makes me wish I had a real piano to go home to and not the face one-handed keyboard on my Mac.

It's 11pm now. I got on this train 45 minutes ago. I think. I've gotten on trains far later than this, but never felt this tired. At least I'll probably sleep well tonight. Maybe. Last night I didn't. I had a strange dream about sneaking into a child-labor factory and pretending to have an accent…it was part-Valjean, part-Indiana Jones, and part-Law & Order. Good times.

We're crossing a bridge. I THINK that means we're almost to Manhattan. My New York geography blows but I can see the Empire State building so I know I must be right. I discovered this morning that, I THINK you could see the Chrysler building from my corner. When I went down to the bodega this morning, through the haze, I think I saw it. I'll have to investigate. This train keeps starting and stopping and it hurts my ass.

I don't ACTUALLY know whether or not I'm IN Manhattan yet…I hate the D. I have no idea where it comes from, only where it goes. Which is the complete opposite of our lives. We always know where we came from, but we're not sure where we're going.

Oh, we ARE in Manhattan. Bway/Lafayette Station. Actual people. People who smell like city and Chinese food while I smell like garnier and ocean, and perhaps a whiff of Russian vodka—that I didn't actually drink, but there were enough Russians on the pier…

This…today's entry is already 17 pages long. Wonderful. This train just got SO loud at West 4.

11:11 make a wish. Mine never come true, but I still wish. Another example and proof of my being a romantic.

My hair seriously smells like Garnier and salt water.

34th Street Station is really dim. It hurts my eyes. It's amazing how my intellectual moments are over now because the post-theatre crowd and post-theatre noise have entered my brain.

I wish this train would just skip the next 2 stations. I'd like to make my transfer faster. But things never work out precisely the way you want. And these seats hurt my ass. Boo.

This guy across from me is using his friends as a sounding board for his relationship issues…

I was right. Once again. The wishing didn't work. But it was worth a shot, right? Sure. I'll just keep telling myself that.

Home stretch now. 11 more stops, 4 flights of stairs, 200 yards, and an elevator ride. I'm glad I brought this book and not Dumas. I might have fallen asleep to Dumas but this will keep my brain active.

I should go to the museum again soon. It's been a few weeks. Maybe next week instead of all-day TNT and cleaning I'll walk to the museum.

I'll say one more thing for now about missing school—I miss having someone/thing to go home to. Like, now, I have roommates that I don't really know and my computer, and my bed. At school I had Ali to go home to. I had papers to write, paperwork to do…but then I was also not as social. I mean, I went to 2 ballgames in the past 4 years. One was today, and one was in April. Why did I not go to more? Why have I never been to Coney Island before today? Am I really that jaded w/ life? Dear god, I hope not.

Heh, god. That's a fun topic. Phil and I were talking about Communion bread today and I explained how the girl in Jersey not being allowed to make communion because she was allergic to wheat was a factor in my giving up on religion. If there's a god out there, he doesn't need man and HIS church corrupting the purity of his mercy and understanding. Man just fucks things up. This is generally well-known.

3 more stops… the trinity.

#21

Last night I finished Save me the Waltz. Which means this morning I picked up Louise de la Valliere--which of course I got into immediately, so there MAY not be another blog for a few days while i read it.

Re: Waltz, it's not the BEST novel by ANY means. And its style is almost irritating. But there are passages that breathe life into it that have made it the cult novel that it is. Zelda's sometimes odd choice of words allows us to see every bit of her in the sotry. It's a novel of interest if not one of love.

But Dumas is calling me back...

LATER

Alright. I lied. Dumas has managed to bore me for a moment...I think it's simply because I'm distracted by a brilliant performance still floating in my head. Les Miz is always beautiful, but from THOSE seats? oy. magnificent. Thom and I were so enthralled, minus of course the woman directly behind us who was crying the entire time. Her sobbing reached our ears before Fantine even died. And of course her sobbing was HILARIOUS. By the end of the show i was shaking I was laughing so hard and trying to keep it in...poor drew's up there dying and i'm doubled over laughing. I felt so bad lol but the woman would NOT stop. But at least I stopped cracking up at that one man's TB cough...The whole cast seemed to have stepped up their game w/ the return of Gary and Lea...it was fabulous.

I still haven't heard back about the job. Which is fine. I've got enough to keep me busy, and there's alwasy something else.

I'm debating whether or not to work tomorrow. I should, because I'll need the money but on the other hand, I could really sue time to sleep and clean my room.

This station is desperately hot. Screw saunas, ride the 8th avenue line. They should seriously hand out towels when you exit the train. It's really quiet here, though. For the most part. It's nice to be quiet and alone w/ your thoughts even if the pages are sticking together from the humidity.

Association is a nasty monster who preys on normalcy and dines on innocence. Now there's a mantra. Huh.

The local should come soon or I'm gonna melt. oy. oh here it is. thank god.

#20

Apparently I missed the first train this morning. this sucks. So now i have to wait anywhere from 10-20 minutes for the next one...fucking weekend local why can't you run express? bitches.

So in light of certain things coming soon, i AM getting a little sadder. I'm going to miss them a lot. I do, however, think that, when I removed myself from the bullshit, it took a little bit of all this away from me. Not only am I my own person, but I've found this life that I had waiting that exists outside of the fandom sphere. and as my life continues to grow, that sphere looks smaller and smaller. Sometimes I pick it up and look inside....but it's not my world to enter anymore. They're all still brilliant, capable and extremely talented people, but my admiration of a different species now.

I'll be extremely sad to see them go. But fortunately theyr'e going for a really good reason. A year ago, what I depended on...my answer would have been very different. I might have cried for a week together and, three months after the initial departure, still be talking about it daily. But i've grown up now. Friends and people...no. People leave us all the time for college, for better jobs, for lovers, for exploration and we cannot suffer from detachment or we'll go insane. we cannot wallow. my parents made it through my leaving for college, their parents made it through them getting married, and so it goes. only this is not nearly as intense as i make it out to be. we gotta move on and endure it. :) The saddest part is...that what MAKES me saddest is something that has nothing to do with my endurance, but on the part of people who actually have something to suffer.

People are ridiculous and the train smells like stale cigars and my personal space just got invaded by a wide-hipped brick-red and maroon-clad-woman whose hair is the color of dried creamsickle, or sunshine, or mac n cheese. And I'm squished between her and a mexican boy w/ Downs Syndrome who always sits next to me and always mutters aobut what station we're at.

A woman just got on the train whose entire outfit--pants, shoes, shirt--looks like swiss cheese. Lorraine swiss. i wonder if her name is Lorraine.

Cut it the fuck out.

Had to write that b/c beets n' sunshine here is trying to read everything i write.

The train's making express stops...which means next stop is me...

LATER

Financially, the best thing is for me to stay on here, do S+MB and thereby have a lot mroe money. But then there's happiness and carerr factors which is where this job comes in...I'll be happier and more on my way...

It feels strange not going back to school. Today was move-in for freshmen. 4 yrs ago, Melissa Ford screamed my name thru a bullhorn, I let go of my paernts, met some of the silliest and some of the most brilliant people of my life.

I'm trying to figure out what this advertisement means...there's a bottle of fiji water, and a cloud. near the cloud, the words "less fortunate clouds cover hawaii." and then, near the bottle, "untouched." what does that MEAN? Does it indicate that the clouds over fiji are lucky? I don't get it. What does that have to do w/ "Natural Artesian Water from the Islands of Fiji."

Last night on PBS I watched Jungfrukallan (The Virgin Spring)--a film by Ingmar Bergman--written in Swedish German which, in the film, sounded more like Italian than anything else. The description was riveting so i decided to watch it.
But the film itself was more entertaining than anything else. THe best part was where the pregnant paganistic sister, Ingeri, makes a sandwich by putting a live frog in a pita. Sweden. Where else?

There is a man sitting across from me w/ serious man boobage. Yuck.

PS there's another ad that has a picture of martinis. But it's selling calling cards. and now i just want a martini. Actually, they've got DJ cards, martini cards, Coctail cards, Diamond Cards, Figres Norte cards, Vodka cards, and Criticall cards. I'm trying to figure out, though, why the tag line: "con estos productos [word?] ahorrar dinero, tenemos la mejores tarifas para llamar a qualquier parte del mundo" is in spanish when the cards are not just for all spanish-speaking countries, but for India, Pakistan, Phillipines, Romania, Yemen, Jamaica, Nigeria and the Ukraine.

I would like the world to know that Mr. Man-boobs is also wearing a fanny pack. JUST to top it all off.

Oh, THIS is a new one. Someone selling "incense, body odors, chew sticks..." WHAT? Def a new one. wtf is a "body odor" that you can sell, anyway?

And I've decided that this Portuguese/Brazillian 2-yr old behind me is going to be a singer. and a looker, too. but also a singer.

#19

Happy September. It's really hot in this station. Bleh. Ann bought these sandy yellow ballet flats that she wore once and are too big, so she gave them to me. They're snug, but comfy. and once they're really broken in, they'll be great. except they provide little arch support--anyway--i bring them up only beause they're they same color as the dirty side of the yellow I-beams holding the station up and I thought that was funny.

Where the hell is this damn tr--never mind, there it is. took ya long enough.

God damn weekend trains. They fill up AND they run local. in the words of Lieutenant Dan, "Goddamn Bless America."

I was watching the frugal traveler on NYtimes.com this morning and it really made me wan take a road trip. ... or just cali would be nice ... :)

(Choice of major + your Effort) x NY SCAS = successful career.
But then, of course, (C + E) x NY SCAS - (final + hangover) = job at burger king...

I have no idea what will happen in the next few days to come. Each scenario has its pros + cons. Neither one is worth hoping for the other. We shall see.

I need to just take all the contacts from my computer and phone s from my phone and make an actual address book. Because technology seems to hate me and I'd like to beat it at its own game.

Ew, we're the ONLY local train? gross.

This is bad. I'm falling asleep on the train....

#18

God I hope I get it.
I hope i get it.
...
how many boys,
how many girls?
...
i really need this job
please god i need this job
i've got to get this show

Ok, maybe I haven't GOT to get it...but GOD i want it. Actually, if I could just interview w/ these two guys for the rest of my life, that would be great. They put me at ease SO well and I really felt just...COMFY with them.

haha "don't crash the set!"

I don't know if I'm going to get it. Hell, at this point, the interview is enough to make me euphoric for a week, and REALLY, i've GOT other things that I'm doing...it's not like i need something to do. but in reality, this food in the door is all i need.

High stress happens, but melded with those two, i don't see how it could be horrendous. I've really NEVER felt so at ease. Of course, my luck COULD be failing as my express train JUST decided it was gonna run local. yeah. thanks. jerks.

I would like to get home and email my thank you. assholes.

re: this job
I really want it. Realllly. The cons, of course, come from the fact that I'll lose my health insurance for a while. and my transportation pay. and my dental. and optical.

but that's how this [word not readable] works. I'll just have to reamin EXTREMELY healthy for the next like...6 months.

I have to really watch my spending. So I'll spend it all on OJ (for the vitamin-C) and Kanka (for the cold sores I get from drinking too much citric acid).

No, really, I have to not spend money anymore. If I get this job, at least. Well, either way, actually. But if I get this job, I can buy myself 2 new pairs of jeans, a new shirt and some running sneakers. And even those, I'm praying Salvation Army will have.

The trick is reminding myself not to take money out of my savings acct no matter the situation. I'll starve before I can't pay my rent. Yay Rahmen.

And my coat seriously needs to go to the dry-cleaners, but it'll survive at least half the winter. NTS: email Ali's resume and cover letter.

I adapt realy well. I forgot to say that in so many words, but i think they got the gist...."i'll just buy some comfy shoes..." :)

I'm really proud that I even went on the interview. I mean, comparatively, where is everyone else now? Shit. NTS call/email Phil.

PS I need some new shirts. One of my favorites, I discovered today, is badly stained. Boo kitchen. boo.

I really want this job. But I seriously don't want to count my chickens yet. Even THOUGH I have never come out of an interview feeling SO good. Except of course for my RTC interview where I was hired on the spot...hey, they were short a hand or two.

This train smells like pulled pork BBQ. wtf.

I think, regardless of the actual experience, this job would be really good for me in terms of helping me budget and organize. Especially budget. Very fortunately I've got at last another 1.5 RTC checks coming to me, so I won't be broke going into it. THAT is a safety.

And if I don't get it, well, then, I have new resume paper, and I'll dish out the $14 for the latest theatrical indes, and i'll start looking again. Especially because, come mid-November, I'll have $1,000 more than I would have without Spaghetti...

so we'll see.

next stop's mine.

huh. how poignant.

#17

I need to stay out of office supply stores. $75 later... and that's just buying "necessities..."

I hate being late to anything. But especially anything theatre-related. I'm usually extremely punctual, and I hate that one instance of lateness...anyway right now I"m running late for a meeting. Fortunately, the train just got here and hopefully I'lll catch up with an express. But I'm not holding my breath.

Got a new journal. That's why I'm writing...
WOOHOO! caught an express!

So...I'm really bad...or rather i have a really bad oral fixation. so i chew like crazy on all of my pens. (why is this express so slow....boooooooo) anyway, pens...i bought new ones so they're...well, one hopes they're unchewed. so there's nothing to grip...okay this is sort of weird.

Ok this little 5-year-old behind be just goes in reference to the underground status of the subway: "This looks like a gold mine. Or a coal mine. But the local should be slower. We're going to get to the 59th street mine...station...first." .... he's like 5.

Has anyone else noticed how much Jane Alexander looks like Rosemary Harris? I saw the preview for a movie that has Morgan Freeman, Norbert Leo Butz, John Mahoney, and Jane Alexander in it (at least...i THINK that was all the same preview) and I could have SWORN that Jane Alexander was Rosemary Harris.

#16

So many options, and unfotunately all of them happening at the same time. I know what I WANT to do but not what I CAN do. 'm so wrapped up in loyalty and knowing my rent is paid for…do I stay safe and work the two easiest together? Or do I drop the most consistent job I've had in ages to do something ig. Maybe go to California. I have no idea.

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I don't even know if I WOULD go to California. But the possibility's a little daunting. And then what happens after.

There's a man sitting next to me w/ a cage. In it is either a med-size parrot or a large parakeet. He's beautiful.I want one. And I hope this guy's subway stop has an elevator.

So many good people. I wish I could do more to help.

This is a great post-theatre express train. Not TOO full. Quiet, besides the parrot. Not cold. Not warm. Just right.

I'm longing to do a show partly because I miss the show mentality, the community, the ability to say I'm working ON something instead of just I'm working for… I think that's my life's ambition. To be woring ON something. The idea which overposers working FOR someone.

I need life change but consistent…

I'm getting home sooner than I thought. Two stops away and it's only been 13 minutes. I love it when it works that way. Straight from turnstile to express, from express to local, no waiting, and from local to home.

If what you have is a home. I haven't really given that much thought. What I know is that what I'm living is life and home or "house" or "apt" doesn't amtter yet.

#15

I finished reading Ragtime today, after wanting to read it for almost 5 years now I finally picked it up and finished it in like 3 days. go me.

It's actually REALLY good. and I have to say the musical did a fantastic job of emoting like the book. They're both beautiful. the novel is granted, more carnal. But that's Doctorow going for Victorian shock appeal.

I may or may not have gotten a job offer for a show yesterday*. It's small and I don't want to jinx it...I would kill to be doing a bigger show right now, but a little one is just what i need to keep me going as we get into autumn and i need my health insurance more haha.

I really lucked out on that. My ear infection came back. I was thinking between the doctor and the meds...$45 easy. Nope. $30. Good times.

Okay the point of Jennifer Convertables is that they convert into sofabeds, right? so why does this picture have an expensive coffee table and setting when that crap's just gonna get shoved out of the way anyway?

I'm glad I can take painkillers with my meds. The meds may get rid of the infection, but the pain is still a bitch.

I'm really tired. Being up til 5 will do that to you. I guess. Ah well. Almost home.

*for the record, when I got home tonight I had ANOTHER job-related email in my inbox...these are interesting times....

#14

I think I'm getting happier as the days go on. Not that I wasn't happy before, but I'm rediscovering my passions and finding people I can share those passions with.

A year ago, if you had asked me if I was happy, my answer would have been "for the moment" whereas now it's "yes."

A year ago, if you'd asked me a LOT of questions the answers would be different.

Like "what are your dreams"...very different answer.

August 7 last year was a Monday. This year it's a Tuesday. So it goes. Changes continue to happen. And ideas and dreams are just a little bit skewed.

I am in love with life. With all that affects me to the point of change. Every new path requires soemone to shove nature aside and tread on it before it becomes a path...See, even that which seems bad leads to good.

I'm finally excited by and about life. I finally have something to look foward to--Me. I finally understand the presence of negatives. No matter how much someone tries to put me down, I know that I'm ending as the better person. Bitter about very little, loving so very muh, and appreciating much more.

Ahh, the mid-day local. Quiet, cold, a little slow, nice. I know I tend to harp on MTA buses and mid-day locals. I'll get over it one day.

My hand is healing slowly...but healing. Not like I was ever going to be a hand model. I think we established that when I was 4 and started biting my nails, and then when I was 10 and got the coolest scar on my finger. Damn bike. *shakes fist* ruined my dreams of modeling for dove.

I'm kidding.

Whoever told you
that those pants were okay?
They were lying
or incompetent.
spring-green patterned linen
with room for two
never.
Whoever told you
cadet goes with cerulean.
they were mistaken
whoever told you
those lace up sandals
make sense?
Was it jesus? or Moses?
It doesn't look good for you
But you don't care
with your blue-tinted glasses
and khaki purse.
your hair cut in
all directions
you're you and that's
all that matters

You know what I thought was interesting...in Hunchback (Disney) Quasimodo is kind and humble even though Frollo has always been false and cruel to him. But in Hugo's Notre-Dame, the point is that Frollo WAS kind to him. Humbled him, surely, but was good to him. How does Disney make sense of that? Esmeralda is correct in her inquisition as to how such a "cruel man" could raise such a kind person.

Tonight was amazing. And riding the train home to "Comptine" is making me....beatific.

Tempos off, notes not...that's beautiful.

That's exactly what it is. The tempos are off, but the notes are not. We're singing the same song just in different rooms. Through the walls of our lives we cannot see the same conductor. The soul puzzle. It's so much more beautiful and makes so much more sense now.

I don't think I've ever known so many sweet people as I do right now in my life.

#13

There was a man on the subway platform ranting quite speedily about being in the US Marines and experiencing the REAL Jurassic park and cutting off a raptor's head...makes you wonder sometimes...

I wish I was more specifically ethnic...or like...traditionally ethnic sometimes. I.e. Indians can wear saris wherever they want and not be judged. People who wear clothes from traditional/tribal African nations are the same. I get away with um...nothing.

Yesterday and today were digustingly hot. Even after the rain. But at least there's a nice. breeze on this corner.

This bus is cold. I've really taken to taking the bus now. It's quieter. Cooler. and takes just a LITTLE more time. Enough for me to appreciate what I'm reading or writing.

I worked an extra 3 hours today mostly because I need the overtime. But also because I didn't wanna go home. I have nothing to do when I go home. Exept type these up. I go home, I sleep, i wake up 8 hours later. there's nothing else to do at home. Besides, there's work to be done at work.

I have nyquil at home. That's a good thing. I'm too congested to sleep properly.

Ah yes. Gardening and Liquor two things that go fabulously together. What?

Is it bad that the biggest worry in my life right this second is the fact that this "pine green" pen is actually inking as "blue spruce"...not to be confused with spruce goose.

I'm too lazy to cook meat. unless it's chicken cutlets. you know...breaded...egg...mmmm
but yeah. too lazy.

#12

"Time erodes. People erode more."
Look at what we do to ourselves each day. to each other. Makes me want to scream. I'm 22 years old...I hate...I'm so stubborn. I'm so headstrong. Rory would like to blame it on "being Italian" but, for one, I'm not JUST Italan. And two, anyone can be this bitchy, regardless of heritage
I'm 22 years old and I have no real idea of where I'd like my life to go. I've got snippets of ideas, but none of them fit together as a) acceptable or b) worthwhile. Janio says to me the other day--you should forget about stage managing and do props. It takes forever to make all that money as a stage manager...props people...there's a higher demand...

But it's not about the money. I mean, to a point, yes. but my life will not be successful based on how much money I'm making, but on how colorful I can make it. If I cared about money like that, I'd be a doctor or a lawyer...and then commit suicide because I'd be so unhappy with my life.
I'm so incredibly passionate about living life my way that I assume no one understands and never will. so i shut them out. I know that makes me sound pompous and cold, but It's who I am. I'm going to have to find my way through life on my terms and i can't drag people with me who are daft, incapable of sympathising, too set on being an adult, or too set on being a child. I'm 22 years old which means I'm both. An adult by law, a child by experience, an adult in attitude, a child in behavior. And I get pissed off by stupidity easily.
I resent a lot of people from high school for making me grow up too fast, and regret internalizing it to a point that I became selfish. I have hated and resented and despised myself for over 6 years for being so ungrateful that day in May of 2001. I don't deserve gifts after that. and ever since then it's been extremely difficult to show gratitude. I'm not worth the effort in the end.
I thought I was growing out of that for a while. but I realized it was all lies.
And then something happened almost 6 years to the day that made me think that...just...maybe...I am worth it. because the lies were over. Perhaps I have turned out stronger for it. More headstrong, to be certain, but my thank yous have gotten better and my tears more genuine.
I'm still pretty much a loner, though. In my mind, at least. I'm very self-sufficient in that often times other people's imput and opinions are not necessary. Especially when...I hate people who are misinformed who try to talk about what they know nothing about.
I want my life, not anyone else's. So i have to do it on my own and for me.
Right now I'm really pretty happy. I know there's something else out there fore me, but I'm 22. and I have time. Whether I die tomorrow or 70 years from now, it's not going to matter that I paused while I was happy. I have to do what makes me happy.
Whether that's stage managing, or props, or playing wiht masks at RTC, or planning to be interior decorators with Barb, or finding sanity in this non-relationship I'm in, or spending the rest of my life just discovering by venting like this, sitting at the fountains @ Columbus Circle or Lincoln Center, road tripping to Salem, running around Disney, sitting at the dog run, what does it matter so long as I'm happy and can afford my rent every month?

#11

If I can afford the extra 10 minutes in my morning I like taking the local. Especially Mondays (everyone else's Monday, not mine), 1: less crowded, 2 Because of 1, can sit the whole way if I wanna. If I feel like sitting. Which, on a Monday, I usually do.

I just tried spelling "Sitting" as "Citting"…twice.

My right forefinger is in pain from the fight I lost against a parked delivery bike 3 days ago. So writing isn't so much fun anyway.

Note to self: repaint toenails—they look like I swam through crappy white-out.

See…mornings like this suck. 8:15 and I'm still not on a train. Which means if, when we get to an express stop, there's an express train waiting, I'm getting on it. Yuck.

Or maybe not because I just found myself a nice cold seat on the local and I'm not stopping for breakfast on the way to work so…I could just sit for the next 24-32 minutes. Mark it: 8:17 I got on the local.

There's a man sitting across from me who has Norm's nose, skin tone, and height, but the rest of his facial features are too small for the nose, and his girth is too wide for the height. I miss Norm. I hope Mermaid's doing well in Denver.

Things to do with this week's paycheck: half my rent, student loan, phone bill, theatrical index, resume & mailing supplies, birthday presents. Ahhhhch I'm going to be poor.

See I ran into Thom yesterday (Widmann) and he said "we have to get you stage managing" and I was like "yes…WE do…"…not that I expect him to talk me up to the German stage manager for Wicked who's staying with him right now but you know…little things…they help lol. And I realize that since my initial mailing I've been fairly inactive in my search, but I've also been very happy working full time and getting paid and my health insurance kicks in on Wednesday… so I've been laying low, thinking maybe something would come my way on its own.

Finally Janio called me….only Cherry Lane doesn't want a stage manager, they need a props mistress. Now…that's something I can do, but I'm not passionate about it necessarily. Perhaps I shouldn't voice my concerns so publicly here, but I feel like I have to be honest. Like Thom said "it's a foot in the door"…but is it a foot in the right door? I think that getting the call from Janio and running into Thom all within 48 hours has great significance. If you believe in fate, this is fate speaking to me.

I don't think this is a crossroads. I don't think choosing one is going to eliminate the other. What I THINK is that I'm not going to get the props gig…and that will let me then focus on sending my resume and such out to the right people and THEN I'm going to get something good.

There was this asshole on the subway just now trying to get off the train and he made this exasperated sigh at this woman for getting on the train before he could get off. She didn't hear him say "step down step down step down" from the depths of the car while she was on the platform. And a man standing by the door is telling his girlfriend that, if this was Florida or something, the guy would have let her go first and not have spazzed out. Not true. Florida has the worst road rage I've ever seen and it doesn't stop on the roads. That's how I got so exasperated. Not New York. Florida.

Two more stops and we've only been on the train for 18 minutes. Fabulous.

#10

I love when happy-go-stupid people step off the subway like they're getting off the Monorail @ Disney. I'm sorry, this is NOT the Magic Kingdom, The Contemporary Resort, the Transportation & Ticket Center, The Polynesian, OR the Grand Floridian. This is 42nd Street. We've all been working 8-9 hours. We look more like Disney employees at the end of the day, ready to strangle you.

I kind of...really...don't want to be on this train right now. Maybe w/ fewer hooligans and more space and less light nad a friend or two, but right now i'm not liking this particular train car. Maybe I should get a dog or something.

"The 3 o'clock slump has met it's match"
*picture of peanut*
maybe it's me...but a peanut doesn't get me thorugh that slump. perhaps American's Peanut Famers should look into growing fruit snacks...or carrots...or wine grapes...or margaritas.

"please keep an eye out for suspicious persons"
um...this is New York...that bandana'd white woman with a conway bag looks suspicious.

You're wearing a Krispy Kreme shirt and carrying a Whole Foods bag. Disparity?

Geez. Got tight jeans? your pants rival the lestat breeches.

There's a man on this local...black..about 50...see-thru shirt...singing a Diana Ross song...in Diana Ross' key.

Recompensa de $1,000 para informacion de qualquier persona en POSESION ILEGAL DE UN ARMA DE FUEGO. Direct translation: person who owns an arm of fire. Didn't they have one of those on Buffy Season 3?

#9

New notebook. And I bought new pens for the occassion! yay!

I love mid-day empty train cars. let me think and they're cool. and no one seems as stressed as they do at 8am or 5pm.

I spend an average of an hour on/waiting for the train eveyday. That's an average of 7 hours a week. A whole night's sleep I could be getting instead of commuting...

I think I slept on my neck funny.

Dammit now everyone from the express is gonna get on my local. boo. go home.

the Beverley Hillbillies theme song is stuck in my head.

Everyone...all 10 people on this car...are wearing navy blue. myself included.

A note about tkts--do NOT try to bribe me into buying tickets FOR you. I'll tattle. this doesn't mean that if we're friends and make plans that I won't help ya out...but seriously...the audacious bitch who was at tkts and asked if she could bribe someone to buy her tickets because she didn't have the time to wait online...ugh.

Amazing. Thursday @ 6pm downtown train: nearly empty. what IS that?

My neck still hurts.

Do you think that when we are reincarnated, there's any memory retained? or are instincts retained? because i'd like to remember how not to do stupid shit.

I like this pen...it's like...dark mango. mmm mango.

This D train had better be cold. NYC: where you don't have to pay for the sauna. just wrap yourself in a towel...i'm here to tell you, if you chose to just wear a towel onto the hot subway platform, i seriously doubt anyone would stop you. take the towel off, however, and we might have a problem.

Daylight come and me wanna go home. Jolly man banana? what?

#8

Happy July. The Sunday local sucks.

If it's tight, don't sit there. You'll have to brace yourself on my pole which i'm very attached to and don't want you interfering with my leaning on.

That's right, PH lookalike, back off.

I wish to illustrate this look for you: Hispanic woman, age 27-32, about 190lbs, all the weight between her knees and her chest. Red spandex/nylon blend flowy shirt thing that clings to her not-pregnant-just-fat-like-me stomach, white spandex leggings with black rings/o's pattern, and white mocassins. who told her this was okay? can we get her on what not to wear?

Dear MTA, if your Sunday train takes this long ever again i'm firing you and spending all my savings on cab fare. figure i save about $650/month...$30/trip, 2x a week (sundays only) that's....$240/month...so i'll still be saving about $400/month...the problem of course now is where the hell near me am i going to hail a cab?!?!

This subway musician makes me miss the Mexico restaurant at Epcot. i like margaritas. what?

You look like diana ross.

Everything i think about it the more i SAY no, and the more i tell myself YES!!

Thank you for staying away.

"I get my money's worth out of my beer and hookers." ...... oh yeah?

Stupid boys are funny.

Slim and blue
stitched and seamed
tone underneath
no evidence of stress
laid back but lazy
following a crowd
slim and blue or grey or midnight
lazy and connected

Oh this is a funny convo....yes, my friend, Bill Cosby is funnier than Chappelle. I hate Chappelle. OMG this story has no point. you do realize that everyone's heard this right? the funny thing is that one of you appreciates good comedy and the rest of you are waiting for the blood and guts. that's not the point, kids.

ew rednecks. make it stop. oh yes, good...let's compare bill cosby with men in black II. anyone?

Okay...the "that's your boyfriend" game? not funny. i'm glad you think it is....but no one thinks it's funny.

Wait, you and Eliza are going to the next level by taking pictures? what? stop making fun of antiquees. they're way more intelligent than you, dumbshit.

Wait, and now you're taking pride in having gotten kicked in the balls...great. OMG you all have NO lives....i have no sympathy for you...y'all need...something.

#7

love my neighborhood. And my that turn of phrase I of course mean the 100 feet or so between my front door and the subway entrance on the corner. There's a pizzaria (that i've been to...once...a bodega (which is my happiness)...a dry cleaners--where a creepy man leers at me in the AM...a new unisex salon run by a chinese lady who's always sweeping and never cutting hair, and a chinese takeout where, judging by the fact that you can't see past the front counter, I think they've got all the neighorhood's runaways slaving. And then there are 3-5 brickface buildings with stoops and 2-3 stories plus the basements...but it's the people I love. I.e. I walked out of my apt this morning and the garbage man at his truck said good morning...(disclaimer: i'm pretty sure this was because on walking out of my building i released my hair from its bun and tossed it. my hair is very sexy wehn i do that. and i think he liked my sexy hair. / end disclaimer). Then, walking past the brick buildings, there's an older man who sells homemade bags by hanging them on the facade of his building. His young son/grandson was standing at an open screened window singing Twinkle Twinkle...Cute. Then, walking to the train, a man emerged from teh corner entrance of the subway singing Glory Glory Hallelujia...Howe...I think Howe wrote it. It's where Steinbeck got "the grapes of wrath".

Boo local train. boo.

German Barbarella--specifically Die Macht Der Schwarzen Koenigin is the oddest thing to listen to while looking around on the train...but strangely comforting...

I think this little japanese woman stole her shirt from an african bazaar.

Dear Person,
Saw someone who looked like you today. reminded me that tomorrow is two weeks. charge up your cellphones for a let down. Also, I was reminded that you're coming soon. why? to piss me off? No. In fact, I'm not the point of this trip at all...Hope you're not actually expecting to see me. I have plans with friends. Not people who can't get their act together.
Sorry. didn't mean to be mean necessarily. I really do like you but right after things started getting good, they fizzled...and so now...i'm stuck...and i'd rather be hanging with my friends.

where is my train?

WHY would you paint your toenails SHREK-green? did you go to Home Depot to match that, or has Universal gone to a new level?

I will never understand women (some my age) with the same awkward fat rolls I have (some smaller, some bigger) who don't seem to own a shirt that DOESN'T cling to the fat. It's not cute. And I know you're uncomfortable as I am. So buy a bigger shirt. Accept your size. Cute clothes DO come in bigger sizes!

I wish I had the time to describe everyone in my third of the car right now.

You idiot. I'm glad you fell and i'm glad i got to see it.
Got Drunk?

Biggest brown eyes
Beauty your mother will never see
in the mirror
Nose too big
Hands too small
Your face--reminder to your mother that
daddy wouldn't marry
Alone she strides in color
with you
Her music she will pass onto you.

Your thighs are skinnier than mine. So get your semi fat ass of that seat and let the sweating hard-working fat MTA employee sit down. ass.

#6

Ugh. advil. fucking knee.

Many Moore's "Can't you just adore her" is fabulous. J'adore.

Yesterday I walked from 15th & Bway to 44th & 8th...that's 29 blocks...and 5 avenues...so about 2 miles...of course my knee hurt, but besides that...I think I have ice paks @ work...and..I think i'll be using one.

Aww I <3 wie wird ...

There's one song that i've found is perfect for both walking down the steps of my apt building in the morning, and walking down the steps of my ofice building at the end of the day. I THINK the song's called "dreamer's disease"...New Radicals...anyway...it's perfect.

Know what song makes me sad? (and part of the bass line sounds like Frog & Scorpion?) last goodbye--Jeff Buckley...ugh. it's so sad and i love it...and there was a time a few months ago that I really needed the strength that comes with acceptance and this song was perfect.

Can you be an eye donor if you wear corrective lenses? What if you're really BAD about your contacts and don't take them out until they've gotten...gross...i know...i'm lazy.

I have no idea why we just sat @ that station for so long, but whatever intercom man was saying I couldn't understand him over my music. No matter the problem, Wig in a Box ALWAYS makes it better.

There are some people I love, and others I adore.

I think it bothers some people that I turn percussionist on the subway. over. it.

"And I ain't never....I'm never turning back!"

OH this idiot forgot her stop....3 stops ago...and started yelling about it. Um...

I think it's funny that Zoloft is the name of an antidepressant. oh linguistics.

I just realized that parts of my last journal were in not English. wonderful.

I'd be lying if I said that "kiss the girl" coming on my ipod didnt' remind of me of how EXCITED i am about mermaid. Mostly for Norm, but also b/c it's one of the very few disney movie musicals that I see making the cut....and Norm...omg did i mention Norm? haha. please. someone stop sherie renee scott...when's her u/s going on? I wanna see them. dammit.

Your stroller is blocking a door in a half-empty subway car. move it. oy.

#5

oooh here goes

In Orlando, mistakenly known as the hottest place on earth, there are one or two theme parks that have been constructed to provide little-to-no shade. this, one would assume, is to increase beverage sales. however, everyone who works there knows it's actually a government conspiracy to decrease the population and get ride of a few choice internationals while they're at it. To mask their motives, many of these parks have installed fans on the corners and on queues that mist water so as too cool and moisten. As if the sweaty guests need anymore humidity, right? I mean...at least they can strip and wear next to nothing. You should see the poor employees over @ Universal's Shrek attraction..By poor I mean that yes, they're getting paid minimum wage, but also they um...well you should sympathize with them. they're wearing shrek's clothes. in the 100 degree weather. And then they made that rule at Twister that we HAD to wear USF-issued-long jeans. Not shorts. and not jeans that actually fit. we had to wear jeans apparently for inner-show-safety. UM i didn't fall once and you wanna talk about safety? go wash the rain jackets dammit they smell like jason's armpits. My least favorite Universal wardrobe moment was when one morning, Jim spilled syrup on me on the way over from the Grille. I had to walk back to wardrobe, and get new jeans...and the woman handed me jeans that were supposedly my size...um...i haven't been a size 10 since I was oh...10. And they had to dig around for new jeans for me...ew. They wouldn't fit right anyway because they taper at the ankles...my point IS that New York should invest in, and install, the misty fan things...it might piss some blackberry owners off, but at least we'd stay cool. and the market for silk shirts would die.

I have another complaint against hte city. Non-porous sidewalks. Last night it rained--poured even--and i walked from 31st and 2nd to 46th and 7th...in said rain. Now, as it's summer, I and another 89% of New York are wearing flip flops. 90% of that percent are wearing FOAM flip flps. like mine. the kind that will slip on tile. Fine, you say, stay off tile...hahahaha not that easy. Per sfortunato nella 34 strada sono molti locali con passagiatti that are non porous. You'll recognize them by their orangy marble tint. sheen. Unfortunately, the city has seen fit to install said non-porous--though very nice looking--granite on many corners, not just directly enfrente de las bodegas. In the rain, with foam flip flops, your'e gonna slip. In order to cross said material, one must focus one's mind and put all the weight into the arches of your feet so that your heels and the balls of your feet down forsake you. I however craved so strongly to go barefoot on the street. boo city. boo.

Trolman, Glaser & Lichtman: Attorneys at Law. Las Abogados Numero Uno Para Los Hispanos Heridos en Accidentes. 1-888-MARGARITA.....wait what???

I don't think "chicly" is a word...as in "Radically chic. Chicly radical." But Williamstown (BKLYN) thinks it is...

I don't understand how so many people can wear SO much white/tan/beige. 1) ew. 2) um...pen...other things? 3) public transportation. 4) sweat. 5) rain.
Yeah, i know it's cooler, but go get yourself a personal fan or something. They sell them at every corner store. $4.99-10.99 each. Invest. I do NOT however condone buying one of the disney/universal mister fans. First of all, expensive. Second, they EAT batteries. 3. huge. 4. if your kid sprays me in the face with one, YOU'RE getting shoved onto the tracks. and there's no eyes-everywhere 24-hr disney security to stop me.

Also, re: the white thing. No one's teeth are perfect. not THAT white. You're dooming yourself to ugly comparison.

And one more city of NY sidewalk complaint. Today Ali and I were walkin up Park and I slipped on non-porous concrete tile. my knee is now changing colors and my ass hurts. Other than that i'm fine ut...i mean of course, let's face it, i've gone down in a full split doing that before and i've been fine...but it still hurts...

I'm not on the subway this second, but i'll allow it. There was a huge crowd outside xanadu tonight. i'm guessing for Cheyenne Jackson (whom Bill refers to as Mizz Jackson). (side note, some spanish guy just walked by and said "Lezz-Mieez-ehr-ahb-lezz...is dat a spanishhh playyy?") Good for them. I may be against musicals based on movies (for emotionally aesthetic reasons) but it's still a creative gig. There are a lot of shows that fail--based on books, movies, original works...a painting...they all succeed or fail. They all have stage managers and actors and directors and equity contracts and stage hands and agents and tara rubin and award potential and lighting designers and fans. Nothing is completely empty. And that's an artistic beauty. And while I try to stay away from condenced emotion-turned theatrical expansion, I still respect their stage process and their right to exist. But let's face it. Somethings should never happen. A show is like a human life. It can be taken away at any moment. But it should not be denied the right to live based on who its parents are.

If one more spamalot audience member steps on my toes while skipping to "I am not dead yet" i'm going to push them into traffic.

I don't remember the last time I saw the St. James theatre sans Producers marquis. Anyone know what was playing there in May of '96? that would have been the last time.

I kind of wish--I said this before--I wish I'd found Jack Kerouac before college...I'd be one hell of a hippie bum. I love sitting in the city at night...watching different people wlak by. They think me strange for sitting here wriing, but I'd rather be the strange ny street part of their experience than sitting in my hot bedroom hating the world. There's a cool post-rain breeze right now.

One day, I say, I'll meld with these stones, these walls, these parapets, these doors--and you'll never see me look back. Because I'll be who I want to be. And you'll know I'm there.

Sometimes, sitting on these streets, I feel like I'm paying homage to a theatre god...praying if you will. But my hands never meet, and my lips never mutter. Prayer, here, is different.

A girl...13? 14? just walked out crying to her dad "whyyy did she go with Raouuuuulllll?!!?!?!?!?! *sob*"

Thank you. With you, I know I never have to worry...because I know you'll ask.

Thank god Tim Curry, Bernadette Peters and Carol Burnet were on my iPod.

Today I fell in love with a bird. at Petco. His name is Sapphire. If anyone has $550 they'd like to share, i'd greatly appreciate it. And please get Sapphire, the show off, not Disney, the bird that likes to play dead just to get a neck rub.

i'm gonna need a new subway notebook soon

Top 5 non-musical-movie sountracks (in no real order)
Pirates (1)
Godsford Park (ohhh Chris and Jeremy Northam...)
Pride & Prejudice (BBC of course)
Atlantis (Disney)
You've got mail (c'mon...cranberries AND the puppy song?)

Cheat on New York..hmm...Dear Delta...unless you're paying for my ticket to the Bahamas...oh....OHHhhh...Jet Blue OWES me a flight!!! AHHHH!!! that's amazing!!!

If I was homeless...well...I'm not very talented...I could sing along in italian to the two mexican guys at union square playing time to say goodbye on flute and violin. other than that i can play the entertainer, the rose, and some jewish wedding song on piano...and that's it folks.

in the middle

before bed i just need to state one thing:

if there's ANYTHING i hate about the subway, it's being TOLD to sit down when I'm perfectly fine standing up. I give you: my journey downtown today. I'm on the express between 125th and 59th. Around 116th I see a group of 3 boys -- one 18ish, the others 12ish -- performing, if you will, in the next car to our rear. doing crazy acrobatics in the train car while it's moving, spotting one another, getting some real air...great...nice...have fun. at around 96th they move to our car. now this would have been fine if they hadn't wanted the junction of the car in which I was standing. Mind you, I'm standing of my own will--there are just enough people to blanket MOST of the seats and the only way i'm gonna sit is if i squeeze my ass between this old guy and the window. i didn't feel like it. I'm standing. well this group of boys wanted my spot. i've got my ipod on, one of them tries to say something to me, but i can't hear him so i don't turn --i've got no idea they want me to MOVE-- and then one of the smaller boys POKES me in the side about 5 times before i'm able to realize he's talking to me, not bumping into me and he says "MOST RESPET'...need your space, man" and pushes me away from the pole. Now... i'm not one to get upset in the middle of the train car. But I was PISSED. One, you're removing me from the spot I want so that you can make money exploiting underage boys for their talents so you can make a little change. 2, you could have chosen one of the other two door wells on this car and you chose mine. FUCK OFF. Regardless, that nice old man moved over toward the window and patted the seat next to him so i could sit down and get out of their way. I don't understand subway acrobatics. They're unsafe, for one. if the train stops suddenly you're gonna break your neck. I don't care how good you think you are, you're spinning around on poles within inches of some people's heads with your feet, and PUSHING me away from the place I'm very comfortable in...you want to perform, go to the entrance of Central Park @ Columbus Circle like everyone else. You'll be getting no change from me. That really pissed me off.

#4

The people on the train in the middle of the day are the most amusing. I think. Probably it's that they're not in as much of a rush as the AM and evening crowds. they linger more. it's like it's okay to take the local because the express isn't going much faster. Not to mention, the fewer people on teh train, the cooler the air. not to mention, yet again, it's quieter without being awkward. You're not obliged to look at anyone. But it's nice to study them sometimes.

I'm glad my once-a-week half day this summer is on Tuesdays. It's so much quieter. So many people have Fridays off early. Not me. There'd be no point what with having work at 10am the next morning. I prefer my Tuesdays. it leads into my weekend (wed. thurs) nicely. I'm not stressed into doing Friday night activities--I never was a Friday night kinda gal anyway.


My life would be perfectly happy if all i had to worry about was when the next thing's coming.

Dear Con-Edison,
You have all these ads for saving energy and email bills instead of paper bills. but your subway ads are ON paper. please do something about that.
Love,
Me.

Dear Jack Kerouac,
My mother yesterday asked me if Dharma Bums was really literature and not just an American book. Oy.
PS I wish I had found you 4 years ago. I might have grown up to be a hippie road bum and been eternally happy.
Love,
Me.

See what I mean? We're just now about to reach the 3rd express stop and the express train is just NOW catching up with us. c'mon mta.

If unemployment is SO high...which it's not actually...why doesn't the mta and hte city of NY hire people to clean the subways...i definitely just spelled "hire", "higher"...phononyms suck.

I love it when people look at me funny for popping/cracking my hips/back/neck/knuckles one the train. I'm like ummm get over it. you smell.

Dear Burgers & Cupcakes,
Your mushroom swiss burger is calling me.
Love, Me.

#3

WHY is no one getting OFF of this train?!? Boo.

"do you suffer from frequent migraines?" "gorgeous skin" "don't let impotence ruin your sex life" "foot pain" "get smarter...right here on the subway"

White pantyhose are ugly. Especially w/ that neon pink dress.

I don't mind standing on the train. When I'm riding w/ someone else I usually stand b/c 1) I'm young and I can stand and 2) I'm not gonna be here an hour. I can bear to stand. I'll never understand the young 20-somethings or teenagers carring next to NOTHING who insist on sitting, to go one or two stops. You're going from GCT to the Bronx, sit. You're going from 42nd to Inwood, sit. You're going from anywhere to JFK, sit...but seriously people...you're not gonna die if you stand from 59th to 125th or GCT to 51st. calm the fuck down.

NTS: move shit to Jacob's desk

"I found afterwards that blunt susceptibilities are very consistent with strong propensities"

to the homeless and beggin: please, if my eyes are closed, I can't help you. If i had any change in my pocket, it owuld be yours, but I don't, so go beg on the East Side. At least you'll know they're lying.

Short mexi-talian reading hemmingway on the subway--priceless. He's not processing any of it. He's too busy checking out the tits on this chick in a pink balloon dress and silver sandals! what did i say about that!?!?!

people coming home from the pride parade are hilarious. I love all people. I love gay people. But wearing a rainbow-colored lei makes you like psychotic, not fulll of pride. Hawaii, anyone? love to. I'll treat everyone w/ a rainbow lei.

Back to the sitting. My mexitalian here just got pissed because someoen took the only seat that openeed up at the last station. Let me restate: the train's not going far and you're 20something. calm the fuck down. Plus, the guy who took the seat? looks like he should star in the Brian Fellows Action-packed Adventure film (think SNL, Tracy Morgan). I already love him more than you.

#2

Commuting in the morning is all about finding that perfect wake up song on your iPod...a coffee substitute. This morning, my click wheel--of its own volition--found New Radicals: Mother We Just Can't Get Enough, which has a perfect blend of quick beat, appealing vocals, and a tinge of reggae to get my brain working. Or make me wish I was drinking a Piña Colada on St. Thomas.

Now where is this damn train?

The morning commute is the worst. You would expect that a Saturday would be better--but when your train unexpectedly runs express, no one wants to get off. Unless they're going to the museum. Which no one was this Saturday morning. Instead I was crammed into the car with no room to even reach my iPod so I could change it from slowwww Natalie Merchant.

AMNH
--> 8/19 GOLD
Tues 10/2 7pm lecture: Unnatural History of the Sea
Fri July 20 8:30pm $20 bat walk

A personal favorite for the commute home (we're back to my iPod now) is "Pushing Back" - Drew Sarich (Say It--which I got by not necessarily kosher means, and one of these days I'll give him the $15.99 I owe him). It's a perfect "get me out of work/the crowds/life" song. Although I don't encourage using it as an excuse to push people out of the way.

Note: please do not wear an ugly Gap-grey balloon smock wiht silver sandals. It takes away the glamour of the shoes and makes you look like your'e wearing a gown bunched up at the bottom UNDER the grey smock.

A great going-home subway song is (now, don't laugh) "Gracias por pensar a me" ("Thank you for thinking of me") - Ricky Martin. Usually I don't condone the existence of Ricky Martin, but this song is from his album "Vuelve" which was his last Spanish-only album pre-Livin' la Vida Loca hitting the market. It's got this perfect beat to it, and smooth sound that feels like going home and a happy return to love. And with the rhythm of the tracks...it's almost REALLY beautiful.

Side note: i DO recommend MOST of Vuelve (Perdido Sin Ti (I'm lost without you), No Importa la Distancia--I can go the distance, from Hercules)...

If you have holes in your back jeans pocket from waring your wallet on your ass, sew them up before you do something stupid like...try to store M&Ms in that pocket.

Reeses Pieces are better than M&Ms.

Why is there a 55-year-old man wearing a shirt that says "Bend it, Baby!"?

PS those silver sandals are Steve Madden...and you couldn't afford a more attractive dress???

Note to Self (NTS, for future reference): buy a stopwatch

PS I'm heartily proud of myself. I "took the high road" and the view was both great and amusing.

Dear 125th St. Subway station...why do you have "wet paint" signs on your cracked disintegrating tiles?

#1

If I were a writer (and I must confess, I am not), I should seek the brightest words to form my thesis, the oldest to make the story, and the components of constellations to end the tale. For dull words will bring fatality, as the dullest stars darken the sky.

Need to Know:
1- Movie nights in Byrant Park
2- time of Tasha's late show
3- Pat Bennatar @ Six Flags
4- Nbc concert series?
5- softball tomorrow - field 2- POTO

I am happy. and you have made me eternally so. The sparkle in your eyes and the grace of your smile endear you to my heart.

I shall never understand people who fall asleep on the subway: legs crossed, purse askance, and book open.

I do not possess the talent of purposely endearing myself to others. I'm far too busy practicing my talents for finding something in myself worth it.

The written word is a commitment. True, it may be crossed or whited out or erased--but for the moment it exists it's a commitment. There is beauty in that. And while the spoken word seems truer and more fascinating because you cannot erase it from the air, inevitably it vanishes from space and one can only be held to its commitment if you deep yourself important enough to allow your speech to be recorded.

Everyone has multiple sets of values--John VanDruten says we all have one for ourselves, one for everyone else, and one for the people we truly care about and love. in other words, we endear ourselves only to our own vision, and hope that those we love will never act like "everyone else."

I despise people who saunter far too close to me on the subway platform--as if they're either going to steal my notebook or leer at my face--neither of which would be very welcome.

There's a Chuck-e-Cheese's on 125th street. Is is wrong that I really wanna go?

My grandmother dislikes people. She often does not get past "looks like rain" before she deems to hate someone. Usually I'd say the same of myself, but my mother observes that, no, I care to like some people and can forsee speaking ot them in the future. It's a problematic situation i'm in because I would love to like people, but so much of the time I doubt that they like me--i can usually tell 3 sentences in--But I'm working on that. After all, no one is hated by everyone and, as it turns out, I'm liked by many more people than i ever thought possible. I think it's that my people skills are growing up.

I hate it when a large group (school, etc) gets off the subway at the same time because, often enough, the conductor doesn't realize that the car's been emptied but not filled and, more often than i like, i emerge from the train later on with bruises on my arms. This is not Disney world, kids. The doors are not motion sensitive, and there's no time to look around. Mickey Mouse is gonna leave without you if you don't move your ass.

Can we please talk to someone about getting wireless internet and cell phone service on the subway? thanks.