Tuesday, November 27, 2007
-In no particular order-
1. Kiss the pitch at Ibrox
2. Rebuild/restore a muscle car (resto-modded 67' Mustang fastback or and Oldsmobile 442 convertible, or maybe a late sixties Camaro coupe with an LS-2 aluminum engine with a manual six speed transmission. *linked is the engine*) http://www.gmhightechperformance.com/features/0405htp_ls2_inside_look_feature/photo_01.html
3. Catch a swordfish
4. Go to a Pixies or Superdrag show should they reunite (again)
5. Hike the entire Appalachian trail (doesn't have to be all at once) http://www.monmouth.com/~johno/A%20Large%20Detailed%20Map%20of%20the%20Appalachian%20Trail.htm
6. Invent something beneficial to mankind
7. Go surfing in Hawaii
8. Restore a historic house, or house in a historic neighborhood (Victorian era would be nice)
Each morning as I exit the El stop and begin my walk to my office building, I am greeted warmly by an older woman in a wheelchair. She joyously says hello to everyone, and sometimes offers polite comments on outfit choices. She refers to most women as sweetie, and most men as guys. Every morning, I know she will be there to start my day with a bit of hope. "Good Morning, " she says, as I pass, " Hi guys, good morning, " she sings to others, " Have a nice day ladies, " she offers to a group of women, "That's a cute sweater, sweetie, " she comments to the young woman in front of me. Each passer by is blessed with a tiny bit of cheer to start their work day.
I was actually sad she wasn't there one morning, worried something had happened and I would never see her again. Yet, a few days later, and every day since, she has been there, and as cheerful as ever to help brighten my day.
Thank you Wheelchair Lady.
Monday, November 26, 2007
As I walked, I noticed that all the trees were decorated with white lights, and each store commanded a spectacular display window full of holiday cheer. As I continued walking, I became aware of one of our many horse and carriages walking along beside me, and in the distance I could make out the faint, yet steadily growing sounds of Christmas Music being performed by a lone sax.
My mood improved as I stood on the sidewalk, taking in the sounds and the atmosphere. I smiled to myself as I realized that this was a perfect moment, and I was aware of being a part of it. These moments are often passed through without a moments hesitation. Last week, I may have been the only one who embraced this moment as a spectacular one, but I will remember it always, among the many memories of my first Holiday Season in the City.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
I ate lots of turk', and had a terrible time deciding what to eat for dinner this evening because I have had so much food these past two days. I've narrowed all dinner choices down to about four areas of the earth, and have become bored with them already. If I'm so lucky to make it to eighty years old, I hope food finds a way of changing itself into something I have never tried before. I've become bored of food. When I get hungry, arguement ensues because A. and I can never decide what to eat. If you don't want Chinese, Mexican, Italian (including pizza), or American, like burgers or steak, what is there? Sure, theres Greek and all those other borderline freakish food uhmmm genres? that we could try, but it's essentially just a combination of the previously mentioned food categories. We've tried it all, and there is nothing new, or desirable to eat. I sometimes feel like my cravings for things have died. Ahhh well.. I guess there will always be Cuban sandwiches and 1% milk. It's almost as if I die starving, it will be because food is over-rated and I've tried everything.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
I just now received pictures from my long time and good friend Ryan. This is from his wedding this past summer. I was very thrilled with this picture, and felt I'd share it. Here in this shot, I am sharing a laugh with my dashing twin brother John, and his lovely wife, Kelly. To my left (in the photo) is an all too familiar, but wonderfully calming and angelic face, the A., or the gelfling as I like to call her. If one were to look closely, they could see the twisty-tie ring I gave 'the gelfling'. Although it may not be as expensive as the ring my brother gave to Kelly or (on this special occasion) the ring Ryan gave to his newlywed wife, Amanda, I could surmise or deduce, in a flea market, dollar store kind of way, I had the same kind of love behind it when I gave the plastic/bendy-metal blend of a conjured ring to my A. [I love the fact that she held onto, and wore the thing until it broke... that A. is truly a class woman] -D.
I kept that ring for so long because I loved it and how D. gave it to me, in fact I still have it tucked safely away in a jewelry box. I will treasure it always.
And tell me what you think.
It sure does alleviate life's stresses, therefore leading to happiness. . .
I guess it would've been easier to just say 'yes it does'
As the nights passed, each felt more and more uncomfortable, and chose to bring it up in subtle ways, as to not frighten their partner. The girl began having strange nightmares, unlike her usual dreams, and the boy became paranoid and worried. They both watched ghost hunting related television, silently trying to compare their experiences with those on the screen. Finally, both concluded that the strange feeling in their bedroom was due to a high amount of electronics, for they were no longer insecure or unfamiliar with their surroundings.
Months passed, each desperately clinging to the belief/hope that the electrical outlet behind their bed was the culprit. More and more often the girl would be lying in bed alone and feel the presence of someone lying beside her. Her dreams became increasingly frightening, as she dreamt of a shadow hovering above her as she slept, and then awoke to find her cat staring at the corner where the shadow had been, meowing. She dreamt she was hoisted to the ceiling in the bedroom by an unknown force, and awoke to feel as though she had a heavy weight resting on her chest. The boy began to feel as though someone was lying against him or pressing against him, when the girl was not. He began to see shadows or glimpses of things scurrying around the room during the night. Finally, both decided to speak openly about their experiences.
It was concluded that the cat was the cause of much of this trouble. This cat was not like usual cats, in that she often meowed at things that were not there, and often caused a great deal of disturbance throughout the night. She must be the reason for it all.
Days passed, each becoming more and more frightened to be in their bedroom. Weeks passed, and each began to fear what their terrible nightmares would bring. Months passed and each wished for the lease to expire sooner. Neither knew what would come next, what the next night would bring, what horrible nightmares they would endure, they were just trying to hold on until their lease expired and they could find someplace less haunted to live.
Ughkk... I'm telling yah', weird energy in that bedroom, thankfully I have someone to hold onto in there.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Bridget Moynahan, Sandra Bullock and The Hills' Heidi Montag were all recently spotted wearing a gray sweater dress. Whether worn with leggings or skinny jeans and boots (bare legged is a bit tougher to pull off), this is a chic look that virtually anyone can wear
Friday, November 9, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Then they'll turn twenty-eight and realize that they had higher expectations of what was to come, and have been vacuumed into the mundane and boring existence everyone else is in, only to reflect on what they thought of themselves, and realize that they're just like everyone else.. on the road to some life binding ceremony, and a constant and mounting pile of unpaid bills. What one would think is the awestruck interest in the eyes of someone looking at them when they're twenty-something, is just them thinking to themselves "that reminds me of me at that age" or "I was there once, I could relate to that exactly" but it's not bad, it's just that you will have become what everyone else has become, nothing extravagant, but nothing beyond the realm of comfortable mediocrity.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
I had to bring it up eventually. It's actually surprising that it took this long. A long while ago I read, Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto by Chuck Klosterman, and was immediately excited about the very first chapter. At the time, I identified profoundly with the following:
But whenever I meet dynamic, non retarded Americans, I notice that they all seem
to share a single unifying characteristic: the inability to experience the kind
of mind-blowing, transcendent romantic relationship they perceive to be a normal
part of living. And someone needs to take the fall for this. So instead of
blaming no one for this (which is kind of cowardly) or blaming everyone (which
is kind of meaningless), I'm going to blame John Cusack.
Stories like Say Anything are fucking people up. We don't need to worry about people unconsciously "absorbing" archaic secret messages when they're six years old; we need to worry about all the entertaining messages people are consciously
accepting when they're twenty-six. They're the ones that get us, because they're
the ones we try to turn into life. I mean, Christ: I wish I could believe that
bozo in Coldplay when he tells me that stars are yellow. I miss that girl. I
wish I was Lloyd Dobler.
For me the love of Cusack happened much later than the 1989 release of Say Anything in which Cusack plays the infamous Lloyd Dobler, a lovable underachiever who wins the heart of the beautiful girl. While this is obviously the beginning of the Cusack identity we have fallen for, my own personal sickness didn't begin until I was introduced to Rob Gordon.
For years I have suffered from Cusack/Rob Gordon syndrome. In the 2000 release High Fidelity, Cusack portrays yet another underachiever in love with a woman. The film, adapted from the excellent Nick Hornby novel, has become a cult classic, as has Cusack himself. For years, I wandered, looking for my very own version of Rob Gordon. While I cannot go into detail as to what the appeal is, I can say that it has made my romantic life and the romantic lives of several other women in my generation difficult. Luckily, Mr. Pessimistic fits the bill. ( Watch High Fidelity and if you know D. you will see some similarities.. mostly music related) I'm not saying Rob Gordon is perfect, he clearly isn't, but I think that might just add to my love for him.
And, this isn't just me. http://blogs.usatoday.com/popcandy/2006/06/40_reasons_why_.html Another woman, whom I can assume is close to my own age, wrote a blog about loving Cusack, and, if you scroll through the comments, most of them are from women suffering from the same sickness.
What has happened to us? Why has John Cusack become the beacon of hope for our romantic lives? And, more importantly, why are we all so attracted to underachievers, and/or music ( pop culture) elitists?
* please note this is in no way a commentary on my relationship, or Mr. Pessimistic himself, but rather a look into the psyche of women in my generation*
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
One thing that has remained a constant, however, is the weather. It is November, and as I have mentioned before, this brings coldness. I have a lovely winter coat that I love, and served me well in Ohio. I never really ventured out in the winter time except to my car, then from the car to the store etc. This coat, is warm enough for that purpose and the occasional trip outside to get the mail. This coat, however, is not warm enough for the 1 mile walk,and the 15 minute El ride, pressed against several other people that I face every morning and evening. Oh, did I mention that this coat is also white? Again, not the best option for my new circumstances.
So, upon learning of this situation with my coat, my wonderful mother offered to purchase me a nice new WARM coat. I was instructed to scour the Internet for my new outer wear. Armed with the knowledge that white is not ideal, and that it will be cold this winter, in addition to the knowledge that I live in "The Real City" and therefore will not be required to shovel snow or be expected to dress as though I live in the tundra, I looked. I found the perfect coat... if I were my mother. I found it and KNEW it was the one she wanted me to have. This was later confirmed when she described the perfect coat for me. I, of course, trying to be fashionable, rejected this idea, and it was decided that I would just have to freeze. Perhaps I was mistaken.
And, nearly 3 days following that conversation, here I am... freezing already.
I guess my easier lifestyle just got a little harder, (well, at least colder).