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.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 6, 2007
#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.
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.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
#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.
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.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
#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.
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.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
#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....
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....
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